Inquisitor's Promise (Act One, Chapter Eight)
The opening of the ancient gate had been ominous. Down on Earth, young Inquisitor Aeneas Aquilanus was blissfully unaware that his life was going to change forever.
Chapter Eight: Papa
Aeneas sat down in the Great Hall of Castle Aquila; he had changed back to his formal wear. Next to him was his father Anchises, who was concerned for his son. Aeneas’ breath was somewhat ragged. Though he did not sustain any wounds, Aeneas could still feel the aftereffects of Pep’s electric attacks.
“How are you holding up, son?” Anchises asked.
“I’m fine, papa,” Aeneas said in assurance. “Though I am exhausted.”
Anchises wrapped his arm around his son and hugged him. Aeneas didn’t mind affectionate gestures from his father. Not since he lost his mother.
“You know Aeneas,” Anchises said. “One of these days, the Holy League is going to need you. And I’m pleased with all the work you’ve put in.”
Aeneas looked at his father with confusion. “What brought this on, papa?”
“I’ll tell you when the time is right,” the older Inquisitor said gently. “Now, let’s move on to a different conversation. Shall we?”
Aeneas inwardly groaned. He knew where his father was taking this conversation.
“Umm.”
“How are things with Lavinia?”
The younger Inquisitor looked away. “It’s…,” Aeneas struggled to find the words, but he knew that he had to get it out of the way. “It’s not going to happen,” he blurted out.
Aeneas watched his father carefully, expecting the worst. He was sure that the older Inquisitor would not take this news well. After all, both Anchises and Caius had been working together for years to pair up their children. The Grand Duke of Pacifica went so far as to send his daughter to Nepoli so she could be closer to Aeneas. The end result would be the reunification of House Aquilanus. It would have been the perfect story, if Aeneas would simply play his part in it.
“I understand, if that is your decision,” Anchises said. If he was disappointed or angry at this turn of events, he did not show it.
Aeneas blinked; this was not how he had expected his father to respond. “Really?”
Anchises smiled warmly. “We are of House Aquilanus, Aeneas. Our line had lasted unbroken, father to son, for over a thousand years.”
“I don’t, quite follow,” Aeneas said in confusion.
“That is only possible because in this House, the fathers love their sons.” Anchises continued. “But for a father to love his son, he must also love the boy’s mother. If a man hates his wife, he will grow to hate his son from that woman. And that is not good for a House.”
Aeneas mulled over what his father had told him. Like most nobles of the 74th century, he had assumed that marrying for love was a luxury at best for people of his station. The happiness of the man must make way for the needs of the family, or so the saying goes. He did not expect his father to have spoken like this.
“That sounds just like…”
“Your mother?”
Aeneas could see that his father looked wistful. The two of them had barely talked about her ever since that fateful day. Aeneas wanted to say something but could not find the words. It was Anchises who broke the silence.
“Who’s the lucky lady?”
The younger Inquisitor was startled by the question. “I didn’t say…”
“Don’t be coy with me, Aeneas,” Anchises scolded. “I’ve heard the rumors.”
“Rumors? What rumors?”
Anchises sighed. “You should know that the walls of Castle Aquila have ears. I have heard that you are in a relationship with all five of the faction princesses.”
“What!?” Aeneas exclaimed; his face was red as a tomato. At first, he was shocked by the implication of what his father had said, but quickly realized how people would come to that conclusion. Aeneas thought back to those interactions he had with each of them. It made perfect sense that people would start to get ideas.
“I didn’t know you have it in you,” Anchises teased. “Good job, son.”
As if to emphasize his point, the older Inquisitor reached out his hand, beckoning his son to shake it.
“No, papa,” Aeneas cried aghast. “It’s not like that at all.”
“Just shake your old man’s hand, Aeneas,” Anchises prodded.
Aeneas shook his head, but he played along with his father’s joke. The younger Inquisitor shook the hand of the older.
Aeneas knew that he had to clear up this rumor as quickly as possible. “I’m not in a relationship with all of them, papa. Just one.”
“Is it the Grand Knight’s niece?”
“What?” Aeneas yelped in shock. “How did you know?”
Anchises brought up his hands confidently. “Do you think your old man is stupid, Aeneas? I saw the looks the two of you shared during that duel against Pep. I also saw the bracelet she had, the one that was once your mother’s. And…”
At this point, Anchises pointed towards Aeneas’ left hand.
“… you have a ring that bore the emblem of San Felipe.”
Aeneas was dumfounded. To think that his father could deduce so many out of so little.
“When’s the wedding, son?”
The younger Inquisitor shook his head in response. “I’m not sure yet. Our relationship is, a little complicated,” Aeneas confessed.
“In what way?” Anchises said as he raised his eyes.
“It’s hard to put into words,” Aeneas said. He did not know how to even begin to explain the promise that he had made to Galatea. It was true that the main branch of House Aquilanus had more than its fair share of ‘ladies of war’ in its genealogy; meaning that the idea of a lady knight would not be out of the question to them. In addition, Inquisitors were known take their wives and children along in their missions. Thus, it was not unheard of for wives of Inquisitors to learn how to defend themselves and their families. But the idea of a paraplegic girl with dreams of knighthood being such a woman was a ridiculous proposition in its face.
“Come now, Aeneas,” Anchises said jokingly.
“I’m serious, papa!” Aeneas snapped. “I’ll tell you tomorrow.”
“Fine,” Anchises relented. He was clearly not pleased with his son’s secretiveness. “Tomorrow it is.”
But if Aeneas had known of the events that would occur later this day, he would have told his father everything right then and there.
Oh, nice foreshadowing. I can't wait to see the tragedy that's about to occur. This may have turned from a traditional harem story to a king/concubines type of story.