Chapter 32: A Family Matter

Chapter 32: A Family Matter

By the time the separate statements were signed, Lydia had stopped trying to cry quietly.

"It was a mistake," she said. "I was angry. I didn’t think it would go this far."

Silas set down his cup. "You asked for a court."

She looked at him as though he had interrupted something delicate and important.

The vice principal allowed her to finish. Lydia apologized to the academy, to the panel, and finally to Silas, with Gareth’s hand pressing against her shoulder.

A young man in Star Class uniform rose beside their bench. Silas had seen him sitting there throughout the hearing. The silver edging on his badge marked an S-Rank Talent; his family crest had drawn nearly as many glances.

"Vice Principal, may I speak?"

"Were you involved in preparing this accusation?"

The young man stiffened. "No. I learned of it this morning. Gareth is my friend." He glanced toward Gareth, then continued less confidently. "I ask that you consider their future. Lydia is a first-year student. A severe temporary sanction would give her an opportunity to return with a proper understanding of what she’s done."

Gareth added his own plea, stumbling over an assurance that their family would take responsibility for her conduct.

Silas watched the vice principal make a note. He knew what was coming before she announced it.

"Lydia Rooke will be suspended for one semester. Her access to academy instruction, facilities, and examinations will be withdrawn for that period. This finding will remain on her disciplinary record."

Lydia put the handkerchief over her mouth.

One semester. Long enough to hurt, especially here. She would return to classmates who had advanced without her, and every one of them would know why.

Silas remembered the notice pushed through his cell door.

"And Gareth?" he asked.

Gareth looked up sharply.

"He arranged it," Silas continued. "I’m asking for the same suspension."

"You’ve made your point," the Star Class student said. "His record until this—"

"Is being considered," the vice principal interrupted. "Sit down."

Lydia let go of the handkerchief. "Gareth didn’t make me do anything. This was mine. I wanted to—"

"Then why did he give Harker his lines?" Silas asked.

"Renn is frightened. He’ll say anything now."

"All three of them?" Silas’s lip hurt when he spoke. He resisted touching it. "They waited outside a dormitory none of them live in, on your brother’s instructions. The council found him there. The recording shows him coming through my door almost as soon as you screamed. Which part would you like us to ignore?"

"Please," Lydia said, turning toward the dais. "He can’t miss a semester. He’s in Star Class."

Gareth stood beside her. There was moisture at the corners of his eyes, though his voice came out hard.

"I request time to consult my family."

"You have admitted being present, and the others have given corroborating accounts of your instructions," the vice principal said. "I find that you knowingly organized the accusation and the false testimony supporting it. Your unprovoked assault is also established. You may appeal the finding through the proper procedure."

"Vice Principal—"

"I have heard you."

Gareth’s friend reached for his arm. Gareth shook him off.

Silas let him stand there for a few seconds. He remembered how readily that hand had closed around his shirt.

"There is another arrangement I’d accept," Silas said.

Gareth faced him.

"Restitution, in place of the suspension. If the court permits it."

The vice principal studied Silas before answering. "You may propose terms. The finding against him will stand."

"Of course." Silas looked back at Gareth. "Your sister will still be taking her semester off. I wouldn’t want her to miss the lesson."

Lydia’s face twisted, but Gareth barely glanced at her.

"What do you want?" he asked.

"What are you offering?"

Gareth looked down at Silas’s uniform, then at the cheap box beside the recorder. Something in his expression steadied.

"One hundred gold coins," he said. "Paid in full. You have my word."

It was a great deal of money. A few weeks ago, Silas would have had difficulty imagining a hundred gold belonging to him.

He pictured Gareth leaving this room relieved, perhaps even pleased with the bargain.

"One hundred platinum," Silas said.

Gareth stared at him.

Someone in the gallery repeated the amount aloud. A thousand gold. The whisper spread quickly enough that the vice principal had to ask for quiet.

Celia had finally uncrossed her hands. She was looking directly at Silas now.

"But—" Gareth began.

Silas raised a finger to his lips.

"Shh. I haven’t finished."

His cousin’s face darkened. Silas lowered his hand before it started shaking.

"Your family found a small adamantite mine recently, didn’t they? Add one kilogram of the highest-purity metal you have. A bonus for my generosity."

Celia stood so abruptly that the student behind her pulled his knees back.

Gareth’s color drained away.

Silas could hear the clerk’s pen scratching again. He hadn’t forgotten to record that part. Good.

"A mine?" Celia asked.

Gareth turned toward her. Whatever answer he had intended to give never came out.

Lydia’s hand slipped from her brother’s sleeve. She sagged sideways, and the Star Class student caught her before her head struck the bench.

An officer called for the infirmary attendant.

Silas stayed seated while people moved around his cousins. He hadn’t needed the mine’s exact yield to know Gareth could afford his price. He remembered what had financed the branch family’s rise in the game.

Across the aisle, Celia was still standing. She watched Gareth while the attendant checked Lydia’s pulse, then stepped into the aisle.

Gareth tried to work out who could have spoken to Silas.

The foreman had never met him. Neither had the buyer. The auction had used an intermediary, and the accounts were kept at home, where even most of the servants knew nothing.

Father? No. Why would Father tell him?

Celia passed his bench. She didn’t look at Lydia, who was beginning to stir beneath the attendant’s hand.

At the door, Celia spoke to the council officer. "I need to contact Baron Rooke."

Gareth nearly called her back.

He had no explanation ready. Asking her to wait would only make him look worse, and Silas was watching from the other side of the aisle with his battered mouth and his hands resting comfortably on the table.

One hundred platinum was roughly three years of their household expenditure. Gareth had been about to tell him that. He had been about to make the demand sound so absurd that even the court would refuse it.

Six months ago, his family had found the deposit. Three to five kilograms a year, the surveyor estimated, provided they could work it properly. They had recovered a kilogram and a half so far.

Last month, Gareth himself had supervised the sale of five hundred grams at a hidden auction. It had brought a hundred platinum.

The remaining kilogram was meant for his weapon and Lydia’s.

He pressed his teeth together until his jaw hurt.

How much does he know?

Their father had trusted him with the arrangements because he had earned his place in Star Class. An A-Rank Unique Talent, rare enough to put him among students whose ordinary training sessions still left him struggling to keep up. He had learned to stay late and conceal how much the extra practice mattered.

A lost semester would leave him behind all of them. His friend might speak for him now, but nobody would slow down to wait.

And the mine was gone. Celia would tell the baron. If they had reported the discovery at once, there would have been a reward and a share under the house’s authority. Gareth had argued for keeping it private. His family could build something of their own before the main branch took its portion.

Now there would be an accounting for every gram.

Lydia caught his wrist as the attendant helped her sit upright.

"Don’t agree," she whispered. "We can’t."

Gareth pulled his hand free, more roughly than he intended. He couldn’t comfort her while thinking. He needed to think, and everyone kept looking at him.

Silas should have wanted money. A few gold would have been a fortune to someone reduced to taking scraps from commoners and doing paid student work. Gareth had heard that the main house covered his necessities and little else. That was why he had offered a hundred, immediately, without haggling.

He looked at his cousin again. Silas’s lip was swollen where Gareth had hit him. One more blow last night would have put him on the floor.

Yet Gareth found himself afraid to speak in case the bastard mentioned something else.

"Fine," he said.

Silas waited.

"One hundred platinum coins. One kilogram of our highest-purity adamantite." Gareth’s voice scraped on the last word. "I accept."

His friend looked away.