Read Online The Schism (The Broken Prism Book 4) by V. St. Clair - Free Book Online
Authors: V. St. Clair
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worn before, with a series of buttons trailing diagonally from his left shoulder to the right side of his waist—was quite loose in the shoulder, like it was made for someone much more muscular than him.
He opened the door to let the others back in, and the tailor immediately began taking measurements and sticking tiny pins into the clothing to mark where it needed to be taken in. When he was finished, Mrs. Trout handed him the robes to complete the look, and Hayden pulled on the lightweight under layer, made of gauzy black fabric. Then he added the thicker, bulkier outer layer that was done in pale blue trimmed in black, which draped all the way to the floor and bunched around his feet.
Also made for someone taller…
He wondered if Magdalene had bought these robes on consignment, since they were obviously intended for someone else, but he didn’t want to ask her since she had taken the initiative on his behalf and he didn’t want to sound ungrateful. Even if she had bought them used, they were in remarkably good shape—no stains or tears that he could see.
“Hmm, the bottom of the outer layer will need to come up an inch or two; Aleric was taller,” Mrs. Trout pointed out casually to the tailor, as though she hadn’t said anything alarming.
“Wait—what?” Hayden interrupted. “Do you mean that these were made for…”
“Those are your father’s House robes, yes.” She looked at him like he was being deliberately slow. “Didn’t you notice the detailing on the cuffs?”
Hayden looked down at his wrists for the first time and saw that the black cuffs were embroidered with intricate detailing surrounding the letter ‘F’ on each side. For a moment he just stared at them dumbly.
“Those are your House colors,” Mrs. Trout explained, clearly realizing that she needed to back up a step or two. “We wear our House robes for very formal business dealings or for legal proceedings—really anytime that you are acting in an official capacity for your household. I made another pass through the Frost estate today and found those in your father’s closet from before his Dark Prism days. We’re lucky he didn’t see the need to throw them out, or we would have been pressed to recreate a new set in time for your trial.”
Hayden looked down at his body, feeling strange. He had never been given anything of his father’s before (unless he counted the Magistra’s sigla that he stole from his house last year), and he tried to imagine a young Aleric wearing these same robes, not knowing that in a few years he would become the deranged, soulless Dark Prism.
Magdalene seemed to know what he was thinking.
“I don’t deny that many people will compare you to your father when you walk into the chambers tomorrow, but the association is unavoidable.” She shrugged. “Quite frankly, people need to get over it and accept that while you may resemble him in certain ways, you are not Aleric Frost.”
“Reminding them of my father isn’t going to make them more likely to give me his stuff back though, is it?” Hayden asked quietly.
“Not if you act ashamed of your tie to him,” she warned. “If you walk in there with your head held high, claim your rights, and offer no apologies, then I think it could actually benefit you.”
Surprised, Hayden raised an eyebrow and said, “You are the first person to ever tell me that associating myself with the Dark Prism could be a good thing.”
She smirked at that. “Like it or not, your father was immensely powerful and intelligent, not to mention resourceful and ambitious—even before his dark years. Your grandfather was not magically inclined at all and still managed to become one of the richest men on the continent. Your grandmother forged more political alliances than anyone I know, your great aunt mastered all five of the major arcana, your great uncle was the youngest person to ever chair the Council of Mages, and so forth.” She paused to let that sink in.
He opened the door to let the others back in, and the tailor immediately began taking measurements and sticking tiny pins into the clothing to mark where it needed to be taken in. When he was finished, Mrs. Trout handed him the robes to complete the look, and Hayden pulled on the lightweight under layer, made of gauzy black fabric. Then he added the thicker, bulkier outer layer that was done in pale blue trimmed in black, which draped all the way to the floor and bunched around his feet.
Also made for someone taller…
He wondered if Magdalene had bought these robes on consignment, since they were obviously intended for someone else, but he didn’t want to ask her since she had taken the initiative on his behalf and he didn’t want to sound ungrateful. Even if she had bought them used, they were in remarkably good shape—no stains or tears that he could see.
“Hmm, the bottom of the outer layer will need to come up an inch or two; Aleric was taller,” Mrs. Trout pointed out casually to the tailor, as though she hadn’t said anything alarming.
“Wait—what?” Hayden interrupted. “Do you mean that these were made for…”
“Those are your father’s House robes, yes.” She looked at him like he was being deliberately slow. “Didn’t you notice the detailing on the cuffs?”
Hayden looked down at his wrists for the first time and saw that the black cuffs were embroidered with intricate detailing surrounding the letter ‘F’ on each side. For a moment he just stared at them dumbly.
“Those are your House colors,” Mrs. Trout explained, clearly realizing that she needed to back up a step or two. “We wear our House robes for very formal business dealings or for legal proceedings—really anytime that you are acting in an official capacity for your household. I made another pass through the Frost estate today and found those in your father’s closet from before his Dark Prism days. We’re lucky he didn’t see the need to throw them out, or we would have been pressed to recreate a new set in time for your trial.”
Hayden looked down at his body, feeling strange. He had never been given anything of his father’s before (unless he counted the Magistra’s sigla that he stole from his house last year), and he tried to imagine a young Aleric wearing these same robes, not knowing that in a few years he would become the deranged, soulless Dark Prism.
Magdalene seemed to know what he was thinking.
“I don’t deny that many people will compare you to your father when you walk into the chambers tomorrow, but the association is unavoidable.” She shrugged. “Quite frankly, people need to get over it and accept that while you may resemble him in certain ways, you are not Aleric Frost.”
“Reminding them of my father isn’t going to make them more likely to give me his stuff back though, is it?” Hayden asked quietly.
“Not if you act ashamed of your tie to him,” she warned. “If you walk in there with your head held high, claim your rights, and offer no apologies, then I think it could actually benefit you.”
Surprised, Hayden raised an eyebrow and said, “You are the first person to ever tell me that associating myself with the Dark Prism could be a good thing.”
She smirked at that. “Like it or not, your father was immensely powerful and intelligent, not to mention resourceful and ambitious—even before his dark years. Your grandfather was not magically inclined at all and still managed to become one of the richest men on the continent. Your grandmother forged more political alliances than anyone I know, your great aunt mastered all five of the major arcana, your great uncle was the youngest person to ever chair the Council of Mages, and so forth.” She paused to let that sink in.
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