Page 19 of The Consolation Prize

Her lack of filial piety was strangely cheering to him. “I never liked my father either,” he admitted bracingly.

Una gasped then coughed. “He was too boring for your tastes?” she asked after a moment.

“He was … very distant,” Armand said cheerfully. “Disapproving and aloof. I was my mother’s favorite though, and looking back on it now, I can see why my brothers resented me for it.” He winced. “She was not a subtle woman.”

“Neither was my father,” Una added looking a little guilty. “I never admitted to anyone before that I did not like him.”

“How does it feel to say it out loud?”

Una thought about it. “I’m not sure,” she said musingly. “In the North, everyone would have it that he was a saint and a martyr. No one would ever dream of breathing a word against him. It feels a little wrong to acknowledge that I held no love for him out loud.”

“Give it some time,” Armand recommended. “It will get easier.” She smiled faintly but made no reply to this. “Tell me about Otho.”

Una considered. “He and I are much the same age. Maybe that is why he was my favorite, I do not know. His mother was a serving maid at my father’s castle in Menith. She died when we were both quite small, and my father had Otho fostered out to a knight called Sir Moreland. All my half-brothers would be brought to visit on feast days and sit at the high table. Forwin and Waleran came at other times too, but Otho and Umrey were only permitted on special occasions.” She lapsed into silence for a moment. “Forwin was always … unkind … to Otho. Umrey too, but it was not so bad for Umrey because he had his mother still and her people, whereas Otho had no one. I suppose really, it was Forwin’s insecurity at his own status that caused him to lash out at them, but it was hard not just to see him as a bully.”

“How was Forwin to you?” Armand asked.

“Oh, he never dared to be anything other than scrupulously polite to a princess of the blood,” she said in an odd tone.

He wanted to probe further but could tell a dark shadow was being cast over Una to speak of her past. The twinkle from her eye was quite snuffed out and she had turned pale. In the spirit of fair play, he thought he had better volunteer some personal detail. “My mother used to say I was the very image of her own father and favored me over both Henry and Roger,” he admitted. “It did not exactly endear me to them.”

At length, she asked, “Is your mother dead now?”

“Yes, some four years now.”

“What of your father?”

He pulled a face. “Oh, he’s still around.”

“And he did not play favorites?”

“I’m happy to say he disliked all of us equally,” Armand responded with a smirk.

Una was quiet for a moment. “I think you said your siblings are married?” she ventured.

“All save Roger, who is intended for the church. Well, at least he was last time I spoke to him,” Armand acknowledged. “Which was a while back.”

“I see, and they all settled around your childhood home?”

“Henry and his wife Muriel live with my father at Anninghurst. That’s the family seat. Henry will inherit of course.”

“They have no children?”

Armand shook his head. “No, and I doubt they will now. Muriel is older than Henry. She was a widow already when he married her and must be nearly fifty if she’s a day. My brother Roger has probably left home for the seminary at Upper Derring by now. That was the plan I believe.”

“And your sister?”

“She lives about five miles from Anninghurst with her husband.”

“And they have children?”

Armand screwed up his eyes. “Boy and a girl, I think.” Una blinked at his vagueness. “Pretty sure that’s right,” he added. She looked like she wanted to press him further but held herself back. He could only be glad of her forbearance.

“So,” he said, after a few minutes’ silence. “If your brother was to waylay us unexpectedly, what would his motivation be, do you suppose?”

Una looked troubled. “I could not be sure. We have not seen each other since I was taken by Wymer’s forces. I was given no news of his whereabouts, or indeed anyone else’s while I was under house arrest with Lord Mycroft. I do not know what he has been doing for the past four and a half years,” she admitted hopelessly. “He could even have been prisoner for some of that time at least.”

“Could it be that he simply wishes to see that you are healthy and happy?” he suggested slowly.