Reversal -CH1- (Highly Experimental)

((Hi! So... you're probably wondering what the fuck this new story is. I'm sure some of you were expecting Remnant or Swing Shift. Yes, they're being worked on, but I'm trying my hand at some experimental stuff.

Or at least, experimental for me. Something quite different and away from the norm. This is what I normally call a 'test write' and only do a chapter or two. Then call it done and walk away.

This one is different. Because I enjoyed writing it, and I felt like I could tell a fun story in it. But... it's not something I'm entirely sold on for my core audience. To the point that I wonder if this would be best suited under a third pen name. One that wouldn't directly link back to Arand or Darren.

Well, enough chatter. Here's the chapter of this new, experimental, and likely non-audience facing book. Should be interesting.))

 

One

Phillip smiled and waited politely for his aunt to finish with her story.

Chances were good that she wasn’t actually going to finish any time soon, but that was irrelevant to how he was expected to behave.

“-the daft woman couldn’t seemed to be bothered. I ended up backhanding her and having he escorted from my house,” said Elizabeth with a bored hand wave.

“So what are you doing for a wet-nurse then?” asked his older sister.

Looking from his older sister, to his aunt, or even himself, one could easily spot them as familial. The stamp of house Curis was heavy and seemed almost unavoidable.

Straight blonde hair, bright blue eyes, and handsome.

Man or woman, they always came out handsome.

Which didn’t seem to bother the women in his family in the least. In fact, there was a certain aesthetic to it that made his household highly sought after for marriage candidates.

Giving them quite a bit of leeway in choosing who they wished to marry.

Unless you were one of the men in the family, of which there were quite few. Those marriages tended to be high state affairs in the Curis household.

Political alliances arranged through marriage well in advance as soon as a male child was born. Sometimes they would change, as fortunes and families changed, but more often than not they remained steady and pre-determined.

“Oh, I just grabbed one of the house guard who’d just given birth and hired her directly,” his aunt said, shaking her head. “I forbade her from speaking around Stephanie while feeding her though. I swear, sometimes I think I need to do a cleaning of the cadet- family house-guard and get rid of all these rough tongued clods.

“Though she does seem to produce more than enough milk for Stephanie and than her own daughter. Her husband is a rather cute little thing. He came around with their daughter the first day when she hadn’t come home.”

“Oh?” his sister asked, a rather scandalous tone to her voice. “Aunty… you know better.”

“I do, I do. I didn’t touch, I only looked. She didn’t seem to mind me looking either. I gave him a penny just for coming around. I was hoping he’d come around again,” Elizabeth admitted, then laughed. “Must’ve scared him off. Oh well. Do remember that, Louise. You can look at the commoners, but never touch.”

“Of course. Especially after grandmother disinherited poor Gerdie,” said his sister with a shrug of her shoulders.

“I heard from her recently you know. She’s apparently working as a bartender. Her and that man she ran off with bought an inn and are doing alright for themselves,” said Elizabeth. “Can’t say I have much pity for her, she was warned. But at least she’s doing well.”

That’s good. I liked Gerdie. She always treated me rather nicely.

Elizabeth picked up her teacup and drank from it noiselessly, leaning over one side of the arm of the sofa. Her tight pants squeaked at the movement, the only sound in the room.

Glancing into her cup as it came away from her lips aunt Elizabeth set it back down onto her saucer.

Phillip of course hadn’t missed the look, nor the sound the teacup had made when it was set down. He imagined it was empty, or nearly so.

Which meant he needed to take up his duties.

“Aunt Elizabeth, would you care for some more tea? Perhaps a pastry at this time?” Phillip asked, slowly standing up from his seat. Moving over to the tea-trolley he repositioned the tea-pot and turned to his aunt, awaiting her response.

“Phillip, it’s a shame you’re in my household,” Elizabeth said, smiling at him. “I still wonder sometimes what I’d have to give to grandmother to get you wed to my Bethany.

“And yes, I’d love another cup. Thank you. No need for a pastry however. Still working off the poundage I put on for Steph. Though… well… add a sugar for me actually.”

“Ew, Aunty, that’s just… gross,” Louise mumbled, looking to Phillip. “Phillip is… Phillip.”

“Hah, you’ll think differently once you start your own courtship. Your brother is a very fine specimen of a man,” Elizabeth said as Phillip came over with the teapot. “If I could find a man a third as talented as your brother for Bethany I’d be far more at ease with her future.”

He’d already glanced inside and confirmed the tea was still fit for use and wasn’t too dark. The mesh inside was also still quite firmly and place and would keep the tea clean and clear.

Retrieving his aunts saucer he pulled it closer to himself.

Judging the contents, he quickly poured in an appropriate amount. Setting the teapot back to it’s position, he came over with the small pair of tongs and the plate of sugar cubes he’d prepared.

Looking to his aunt, he placed a single cube into the teacup and waited her approval to continue.

Smiling she nodded her head at him and looked back to his sister.

“-ill gross. I mean… he’s Phillip,” Louise was saying.

“Yes. And he’s intelligent. Handsome. Respectful. Understanding. He can cook, read, and maintains the household when your father isn’t available,” Elizabeth tried once again. “As I said. If I didn’t know the answer, and that honestly it really shouldn’t be done, I’d have tried to set him up with Bethany.”

I’d like to firmly pass on that one, please.

She’s about as tactful as a muddy dog during white-linen tea-service.

Picking up the small spoon that’d been laid on the back of the saucer, Phillip neatly and quietly stirred the tea. Moving it back and forth across the center of the cup without making any noise as he did so.

Laying the spoon down on the back of the saucer he angled the handle to match the teacups handle. Then adjusted the teacup slightly so that the handle was the appropriate angle for his aunt.

“Such a shame his original betrothal fell through. House Harkal would have been a good match,” Elizabeth complained. “Well, right up until they lost the family manse and fortune. Then again, house Risal is quite the family, too. I hear his betrothed is already on the way here.”

Phillip nearly lost control of the saucer as he set it back down in front of his aunt.

He’d handled it so smoothly though, no one seemed to have noticed the near faux pas.

“Aunty! Phillip… Phillip doesn’t-” Louise’s voice trailed off as Phillip turned back to the tea-trolly and organized it briefly.

“I think I’ll need to freshen the pot if you’d like more, Aunt Elizabeth,” Phillip said in the quiet stillness that’d come over both women.

“Ah, that’d be a good idea, Phill,” Elizabeth muttered. “You’re a good man. You’ll make some girl real proud some day.”

Smiling, and feeling like his heart had dropped into his feet, Phillip quickly unlocked the wheels on his trolley, and began pushing it out of the room.

“Mother hadn’t told him yet,” Louise hissed as soon as the door closed behind him as he left. Standing there, he knew he’d hear what they said, and that he should leave, but he couldn’t bring himself to do it.

“What? Why not? House Risal is a great house for him. It’ll be great for our house as well,” Elizabeth asked, clearly confused.

“Because… well, Phillip is her only boy. He’s the little prince,” grumbled Louise. “They spoil him.”

“Given his fiance is only a day or two away, that seems like a silly thing to do. Not tell a man to prepare for his bride showing up to take him away.

“As to being spoiled… I’d say he deserves to be spoiled. Your mother and father truly lucked out with him. You really have no idea, dear. You’ll look at your husband down the road and be lucky if he’s an equal to your brother,” said Elizabeth. “Now, look at your father if you want a good example of how any man show grow into themselves. He-”

Walking away from the doors, Phillip wasn’t quite sure how to handle himself. He felt like he was sprinting through an icy field, even though it was the middle of spring.

A day or two away?

House Risal?

Goodness, me.

***

Tapping firmly, if lightly, on his mother’s study doors, Phillip waited quietly.

The two members of the main-branch house-guard were all smiles at his presence.

Coming from a better class of commoner gave them a better sense of self and what most of their employers were like.

There wasn’t a guard or soldier in the Curis main-household that didn’t like Phillip.

“I’m sure she’s just reading,” said the guard on the left. “Give’er a moment and I’m sure she’ll respond.”

“Or… just knock again in a minute,” said the second guard on the right. “We wouldn’t fault you for waiting here with us.”

Phillip smiled at that and ducked his head, not wanting to meet either woman’s eyes.

They were armed and armored, dressed for combat and war.

Additionally they were considerably taller and stronger than him. Each woman reaching six foot five or six foot six easily.

He was just a bit above average for a man at five foot six, which put him on a fairly even footing with most women.

Just not those who were joined the military careers.

“Enter!” called his mother through the door, her voice partially muffled.

“See? Told you so, young master. Now, chin up, smile, and ask your question directly,” said the guard on the left. “Your mother seems a bit harried but in a good mood.”

Glancing to her, Phillip was grateful. She was only older than him by a year or so, but Mildred had always been kind to him. 

“Thanks,” Phillip said and then pushed the doors open.

Stepping into what his father called his mother’s “war room” he found himself tensing up. He never really came in here unless his father brought him here to be scolded. Or if he was trying to ask his mother something that he didn’t want the rest of the family knowing about.

Often when something had gone wrong for him and he needed an out.

“Phillip?” his mother asked, looking up from her writing desk.

She was hunched over it, a quill in hand, and an ink-pot at her elbow.

“Ah, yes, mother,” Phillip said, closing the door behind himself. “Do you have a few minutes to spare?”

“Yes, have a seat,” his mother replied after a moment, then motioned to one of the chairs in front of her desk. She went back to her paper, her quill scratching across the surface quickly and neatly.

Walking over Phillip to a seat as indicated and folded his hands in his lap, and then crossed his ankles. He was dressed in the house tunic and trousers that most of his family wore around the house.

Though his riding boots were a gift from his father and weren’t quite house approved, but his mother overlooked them.

Watching his mother, he saw the same broad-strokes that were part of the rest of his family.

Short-blonde hair, blue eyes that nearly glowed, and a handsome face and set of features.

She also looked somewhat tired and worn, but nothing that would cause any alarm for Phillip. His mother often worked late into the night he’d found. On queen’s business, her family’s, or her own. As the Countess of Curis, next in line for the Duchy of Curis, there was a large weight that rested on his mother’s fair brow.

Finishing up, Countess Clarissa Curis leaned back from her work. Inspecting it critically she frowned and began chewing at her lower lip.

“Phillip, read this over and tell me what you think,” his mother said then picked up the paper. Flipping it around she set it down in front of him, wiped off her quill, set it in it’s place, and got up from her desk. Walking around to a bookshelf she began to casually finger through her own books for a moment before moving on toward a map of the Queendom.

“Of course, mother,” Phillip said, looking to the document and then started to read it.

He quickly realized it was a trade agreement with house Risal and that there were a very large number of concessions coming their way.

So many in fact that this almost felt more like an ultimatum rather than a trade deal.

Except everything was penned in an acceptance form of verbiage. This wasn’t someone asking for these items, they were agreeing to receiving them.

Realizing that this agreement was likely part and parcel to his own marriage, Phillip had a number of concerns and doubts well up in him.

If House Risal found him wanting, it was quite likely this deal would never happen.

And while his family didn’t need the deal, it would help them out considerably.

“It reads fine, mother,” Phillip said, moving around to the other side of his mother’s desk. While he didn’t often visit her study, she’d often included him in her works.

Even going so far as to having him close up her correspondence for her and have it dispatched.

“Shall I finish and post this, mother?” asked Phillip as he picked up the pounce pot and unstoppered it.

“Finish it, but don’t post it. We can hand it off to them when they arrive,” his mother said, still standing near the map.

“It’s true then?” he asked, feeling like she’d used this moment to help facilitate the point to him about why this was happening.

Phillip lightly shook out pounce powder all over the document. He held it above the collection tray so that the possibility of reusing the pounce was possible. Though he knew his mother wouldn’t. She’d likely toss it and use new powder.

But there was no reason to not at least practice being economical.

Or so Phillip believed.

“Yes, dear. It is,” his mother said with a heavy sigh. “To be fair, I felt like you and Kathryn were a better match. You were both rather sweet on one another.”

Nodding his head, Phillip closed up the pounce pot and set it aside. Kathryn and he had gotten along quite well.

They’d grown up knowing they’d be married and had shared a great deal with one another.

She’d even been his first kiss when they were but ten years aloud.

Later on that followed along with a great deal of “exploring” that they really shouldn’t have been doing.

“How… is Kathryn?” Phillip asked while holding up the document. Touching the tip of his pinky to the ink of one particular spot he found it to be almost completely dry. There was just a hint of tackiness to the ink.

“Oh, she’s fine. Last I heard they found a very nice man for her to marry. The son of an earl with a small estate,” his mother said. “They had their ceremony last month.”

“I see,” Phillip said, feeling like his heart was in his throat. He hadn’t even known Kathryn was already married off, let alone already living her with her spouse.

“Given the situation, and what was available to us, I feel like this opportunity was a masterful stroke of luck for us. To the point that… honestly I can hardly believe it.”

The soft clump of his mother’s boots heading back his way made him look down to her desk, rather than at her.

“I understand, mother.”

“Ah… I’m sure you do. In fact, I don’t doubt you do at all. I just wish it wasn’t this way. I can’t imagine We’ll get to see much of you after this.

“Their main estate is a week away on a fast horse. Practically the other side of the country.”

A warm hand was laid down to the back of his head.

“I’m going to miss you, my Phillip. Phill. My son,” murmured his mother, her finger tips likely moving through his hair.

His mother wasn’t great with showing emotions. In fact she was pretty stoic if he had to put a term to it.

The fact that she was touching him while admitting her feelings made him rather nervous.

“I came… to ask who it was I was marrying? Aunt Elizabeth didn’t say,” Phillip said deciding to put his all into this marriage. He needed it to work out for his mother, if no one else.

“I swear… my sister was always a problem. Reminds me of Louise sometimes. If she doesn’t get her act together, it’s likely Tiffany is going to move her out of the main family and into a position similar to Elizabeth’s.”

Oh, that’d be… different. Tiffany and Louise never really got along.

I could see her doing something like that.

“And your wife to be… her name is Alice. She’s third in line to inherit. It’s likely her estate will end up rather large even with being down two rungs,” his mother said, her hand now smoothing his hair down against the back of his head. “I met her several times last year while I was on campaign. She was there with her mother and two sisters.

“She’s a year older than you but will be a good fit for you, I believe. Very intelligent, very kind. I imagine she’ll end up managing the mercantile side of their family.

“They may only be have a family title of Count, but their power, prestige, and money easily equate them to what was the duchy of Harkal.”

Mercantile.

Mercantile? Well. Better than… better than marrying into a warrior family, I suppose. Not a whole lot I can do there with that one.

I’ll need to start studying as quickly as possible to figure out what kind goods they produce.

Their… their imports and exports and… and what their taxes are and-

Phillip let out a slow shuddering breath.

He knew the day would come when he’d leave his home. Where he’d spent his whole life. But it didn’t mean he was ready for it.

Whether it was Kathryn or this Alice, he likely wouldn’t have been ready either way.

But with Kathryn, I’d at least know my wife. Know the family.

I don’t even know what Alice looks like, let alone the sound of her voice, or how she likes her breakfast.

“Oh my boy,” his mother said, her arms wrapping him up around the shoulders and drawing him into a hug.

Her hard and muscles form was a reminder that while his mother dealt in trade, and handily swam with the merchant families as if she were born for it, she’d originally earned her prestige through the military.

And continued to serve the queen in that capacity as needed.

Unable to fight his mother off even if he tried, Phillip just let himself be hugged, and found he was hugging her back tightly in return.

He didn’t want to leave home.