Tristan sat, staring at Lord Wells as he slowly taught his son, occasionally stopping to ask his son questions. The tis when Edmund struggled to give an answer were when Tristan would step in, carefully nudging Edmund towards the answer without outright saying it. Although Edmund didn’t seem to realise, he could tell Lord Wells knew what he was doing, happily smiling.
"That will be all today." Lord Wells slamd the book shut and slipped it back into the bookshelf. "We will continue tomorrow." Edmund rose, letting out a large stretch, moaning as he did. "Tristan." Lord Wells called out to him with a small smile, "Please co with for a second. Edmund, just wait for a while. I must talk with the Princeling alone."
Like a dutiful son, Edmund nodded and reached into the small satchel he had brought with him, pulling out a small wooden device and playing with it. Tristan watched and realised it was a puzzle that required soone to separate the pieces that made it up, soemthing he had played with many tis before, to the point he could solve it in minutes now.
Shaking his head, he quietly followed behind Wells as he turned the corner just out of earshot of his son, "I appreciate what you were doing for Edmund." Resting a hand on his chest, Wells lowered his head slightly, "He is a smart boy, but struggles to think for himself sotis."
"Lord Wells, please, there is no need." Tristan politely said, resting his hands behind his back, "All I did was nudge Edmund into the right direction. He was the one who eventually reached the correct answers." The older man nodded in agreent. Placing both hands atop his cane, his hands curled around it, making his leather gloves make a snapping sound.
"Tristan." Wells looked through the bookshelf at his son, a thin smile forming on his lips as he watched the boy’s face light up at solving the first part of the puzzle he played with, "Why have I never heard of you before?" Wells asked with a calm, quiet voice. Looking back down at Tristan, he t the young man’s gaze and smiled, "Watching you with my son, I can tell you are smart enough to get a minor role within the palace."
"You honour , Lord Wells." Tristan said with a light chuckle, "But there is no need. I understand myself better than anyone. My ability to help Edmund simply ca from the fact that I was already learning about the Flatlands."
"Tristan." Lord Wells chuckled, "So things you spoke about can easily be explained by studying, but the ability to lead my son to the correct answer on his own cannot be taught. More than that, reading about crop rotation and understanding it are two different things." Before Tristan could speak, Wells raised his hand to stop him, "My son has looked over those scrolls containing my finances of the previous year many tis. Whilst he understood correctly how all the money was being distributed and spotted many of the purposeful mistakes I left, do you know what he missed that you didn’t?"
Tristan’s smile dropped ever so slightly. In a pursuit to make a friend, he realised he had let Wells see a little too much. It didn’t take much thinking. Wells had provided his territories’ previous years’ expenditure and inco for his son to get a grip on. Out of curiosity, Tristan looked over it with permission and noticed what Wells wanted to do. So mistakes were obvious, such as numbers not adding up, but other things were different.
"Embezzlent through the servants’ spending," Tristan said with a quiet voice, getting a nod from Wells. When he had looked over the scrolls, he didn’t understand why, but he had felt the servants were spending too much, be it on food, wages, or sudden paynts that always occurred throughout the year.
"It’s very minor and usually accounted for by the Lords, knowing they can’t stop it." Wells said with a light chuckle, "But one look at my yearly spending, and you spotted it. How?"
Tristan looked to the ground. "Your budget is made at the start of the year." Without a chance to lie, he answered honestly, "Then you have the budget for sudden paynts you must make, for things like damage, I assu?" Wells nodded. "I live in the palace. I have seen how rare it is for things to be damaged or go missing. Maybe if your land were in a special climate like a swamp, it would be different, but your territory is not like that. Added to the fact that you are married to Aunt Mary, and I doubt her servants would be as clumsy as to have to use that much of your ergency budget, after all, Aunt Mary would only want the best working for her. The only thing I could assu it was, was the servants pocketing so."
Wells nodded, "You are right, but you miss the key point. Feats, tournants, and other activities which require an influx of gold will also drain this."
"But the spending would have been larger." Tristan countered, making Wells raise an eyebrow, "It was too consistent and too light to be spent on such things. As if trying not to arouse soone’s attention to it." Wells smirked and patted a hand on Tristan’s shoulder.
"You may be my son’s friend. I hope you can help him in the future." Wells said, and slowly limped back over to Edmund, firmly grabbing the boy’s shoulder and leading him away, talking to him about his lessons and recapping what he knew.
Tristan watched the two walk off and smiled to himself, feeling Annabell land on his shoulder and hug his cheek afterwards. "Did you beco friends with him, Tristan?"
"Not yet, but I got permission for it." Annabell jumped up happily, rubbing her head into Tristan with more ferocity.
"Do you like him?" Annabell asked the most important question and made Tristan fall into thought.
"He’s..." Thinking back to what he knew about Edmund, he couldn’t help but smile. "He’s a kind person and a quick learner. Yeah, I think I can like him." That was enough for Annabell, who nodded.
"Where are we going now?" Tristan thought for a mont and shrugged, walking off without a destination in mind.
-----------------------
The moonlight pierced through Wells’ room. Stepping in, he saw Mary quietly reading a book in bed, before looking up at him with a loving smile, placing it to the side. Limping over, he rested his cane to the side and slowly undressed himself until he only wore a light vest. Nursing his leg that had a section of muscle cut out, he groaned and reached into the drawer, grabbing a vial of liquid and drinking it before slipping under the sheets.
The discomfort in his leg slowly faded as he finally relaxed. Mary waited for her husband to get comfortable and rested her head on his shoulder. "How were Edmund’s studies?"
"They were good. He did better than he usually does." Mary sweetly smiled.
"That’s good. Do you think he is ready to go back to your lands now?" Wells noticed the double aning in her tone, knowing she wished for her son to finally be taken away from the danger of the Palace, with enough ti having passed after Anton’s crowning.
"Soon. But for now, I want him to stay. He is making a friend who will be good for him." Wells said, thinking of Tristan. Mary looked up into his eyes, whilst her other hand played with his undershirt.
"Is that so. Did he get close to one of the servants or a courtier’s child?" With a shake of the head, Wells rested his head atop hers and took a deep inhale of her hair, slling the faint hint of lavender in it.
"No, it was one of his cousins. A boy nad Tristan." Feeling his wife tense up, Well pulled his head away and looked down into her eyes. Seeing the strange look that flashed through them, he frowned. "Is there a problem, my love?" Wells asked.
Mary let out a deep sigh and shook her head, "No. It’s just, you know, how I had Edmund look into the thing my brothers wanted." Wells nodded, "That boy, Tristan, his na was brought up during the recounting. Apparently, Tristan saw Edmund during his investigation. A minor eting where he introduced himself before reading."
Wells’ frown deepened, "There is hardly ever a coincidence in this place." Mary nodded, "You think he is approaching Edmund for his own sches."
"I do not know. I’ve never spoken to the boy. In fact, what do you think?" Wells closed his eyes, recounting the entire day in his mind.
"Potentially. It baffles how such a child managed to stay hidden for so long. He is a smart boy, Mary, almost like Cillian." Mary’s eyes widened in shock.
"You can’t be serious."
"I am. I’ve t the majority of your family and gotten a feel for them. The majority of them are happy with the luxury their na provides, never improving themselves, only good for marriage, whilst a few are actually useful." Wells narrowed his gaze, "He’s like Cillian, attentive, smart and able to make you drop your guard. Tristan does it in a different way, but it is much like him."
Mary took a deep breath and leaned into Wells, "I’ll leave this to you. I trust you know what’s best for Edmund. But the mont that boy steps too far, tell ." Wells nodded and smiled. With a kiss on her forehead, he leaned over and blew out the candle.
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