~ Lytton
Lytton sighed as he climbed the winding steps to his solar. His mind was occupied with how he was going to fulfill his promise to Barret. He was sure Adrianna would be more than happy to bring the children in as servants, provided Lytton presented her with a plan for their employment to be beneficial. She was quite adamant that there be as little waste as possible in their household. Lytton assumed it was a holdover habit from growing up in a house that was beggared from reckless drinking and tourney ransoms, and had never brought it up.
Stepping into his solar, Lytton saw there was a plate with one of those wooden domes sitting on his desk. Raising it revealed a small platter of square-shaped bits of dough that were bulging with filling. They had a buttery sheen and various herbs were placed atop, giving the dish a delectable scent.
Lytton picked up the provided fork and raised one to his mouth. While it wasn't steaming hot, the dish wasn't lukewarm. Each square seemed to have a different filling, and Lytton took the time to savor each bite. One had a multitude of cheese and fresh herbs, another with minced meat and garlic, a third contained onions and mushrooms in a creamy cheese. Even when there was no meat in his bite, Lytton still loved the flavors gracing his tongue. Fresh butter and savory juices burst as he bit into another square, and they were so abundant drops flowed down the sides of his mouth.
Alongside the meal was a small note, the parchment taken from one of the small rolls used for raven letters. Unrolling it as he wiped his mouth with a handkerchief, Lytton instantly recognized his lady wife's handwriting, and paused his meal to read her words. It was a short message, but its length made it no less worrying.
That wasn't good. Adrianna only sent a note when she wanted to have a consequential conversation. She had taken a much more personal hand in the raising of her children than the average noblewoman. She only gave them over to the wet nurse when duty required it, and was always trying to spend as much time as she could with her children. She praised them when they succeeded, comforted them when they failed, and punished them when they misbehaved. And Alan had been misbehaving a lot.
She probably wasn't happy about how Alan had acted since he returned from the Hightowers, but his actions against Barret had really sat wrong with her. That night in bed, Lytton had to talk her out of running off to Alan's room and spanking him. He had done so by promising he was going to punish Alan accordingly, and Lytton hoped she was satisfied with his plans.
Lytton sighed, the meal tasting a little less delicious with his poor mood. If only Alan hadn't made such a mistake, peace might have lasted in Honeyholt. Alas, Lytton would have to work to broker a peace before outright war erupted.
As he was about halfway through the delicious meal, the doors to his solar swung open with force, slamming against the walls and rattling on their hinges. Bursting through the doorway stomped Alan, his face red with barely contained anger.
Lytton wiped his mouth and put the dome back on the tray, moving it to the side of his desk as Alan stomped up to him. "What is the meaning of this, father? Lessons with your fool of a Maester, training in the yard with the new squires! How dare you-"
Lytton couldn't hold back his bubbling anger and let it explode. "No, how dare you!" He stood up and slammed his hands on the desk. Alan seemed momentarily stunned by Lytton's words, which was all Lytton needed to press the attack.
Lytton's volume rose with every word, as his temper flared higher than it had gone in years. "You barge in here, making demands of me? I am your father and your lord, and you will give me the respect I deserve!"
Alan's face was turning a shade of red Lytton had only seen before in dyes and berries. "I am a man! This is beneath me!" He screamed, although Lytton was paying less attention to what his son was saying more to the spittle that was flying out of his mouth with every word.
Lytton was just about done with his son. "Then you are free to leave and commit deeds befitting your high station. Roam the land and prove your honor. But you will do so without the support of House Beesbury. You will have the horse you ride off on and the armor you wear on your back, and that is it."
Alan spluttered. He seemed to not expect Lytton to threaten to cut him off, and his shock overcame his anger briefly. He opened his mouth to speak, but no words came out. Lytton waited for him to apologize, or say anything at all, but Alan just turned and left the solar.
Lytton slumped back down into his chair, the anger flowing out, replaced by disappointment. Lytton had never truly loved the Hightowers, but now a hatred was starting to brew. Alan had left a promising young man and returned a reckless young boy.
But the worst part was how, the more Lytton talked with his son, the more of his father he saw in Alan. That same arrogance, a complete disregard for anyone but himself, and a headstrong idea of what honor was.
Eventually, Lytton picked himself up and continued his meal. No point in wasting good food. As he ate, there was a knock at his door.
Adrianna was standing in the doorway with a concerned expression. "A servant said Alan was storming up here. What did he do now?"
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Lytton wiped his mouth again, a bit annoyed at being constantly interrupted. "He was complaining about his lessons and was completely out of line."
Adrianna sighed and moved around the desk, pulling a small stood to sit next to Lytton. She put her hand on his arm. "You saw my message?"
"Yes I did," Lytton said, "but might I be able to finish my meal before we speak?"
Adrianna smiled. "Of course. In fact, why don't I help you."
Lytton chuckled and speared one of the squares with the fork. He raised it to Adrianna's mouth, holding his other hand below to catch any dripping juices, and Adrianna bit down.
She let out a small squeak as she chewed. After swallowing she spoke. "That is delicious. Another new recipe?"
"I presume so. Manrel has been making so many new things, I don't know which dish is my favorite anymore." Lytton said as he ate the second to last piece.
As Lytton chewed Adrianna motioned for the fork. Lytton frowned and shook his head. This was his meal. He had a whole night of paperwork ahead of him; Adrianna could just go to the kitchen and get a fresh batch made.
But before Lytton had finished chewing, Adrianna struck. Her fingers swiped down and grabbed the last piece, bringing it to her mouth before Lytton could object. She chewed with a smug satisfaction.
"Trying to starve me, are you?" Lytton said in a mock accusatory tone.
Adrianna giggled, and Lytton's mind flashed with memories of that perfect first night, when they had both been young and nervous. "Don't worry," Adrianna said as she pulled a pouch from her hip, "I have some berries from the garden for you. It's your favorite."
From the pouch she pulled some blackberries, and Lytton submitted to being fed them as he stared into his wife's eyes. It was nice to just be husband and wife, but eventually they had to be lord and lady.
There was a lot they had to discuss, so they started with the easiest part. "The household's incomes are very good. Even with the reward for the hive extractor machine paid out, the treasury is abundant."
Lytton smiled. "I am glad my little gamble turned out so well. It would have been a bit of an embarrassment if I wasted so much coin." Lytton mused for a moment. "Perhaps we should give the workers a bit of a reward. A nice set of candles, let them appreciate the fruits of their labours."
Adrianna nodded, then frowned slightly. "I will say, we should keep a bit of a lump sum in case we are called to arms by the Hightowers. I have heard there is pirate trouble in the Stepstones, and our unlikely King Aegon might send a force to stop their slaving and butchery."
Lytton sighed and laid his head on his desk. "I dislike this talk about pirate kings. Every captain that I invite to Honeyholt speaks of fearful sailors and less and less ships from Essos arriving on our shores. I was hoping, with our increased production, we could start exporting to the Free Cities. Now it seems more likely such a venture would end up with our candles at the bottom of the Narrow Sea than an Essosi market."
Adrianna stood up and started rubbing Lytton's shoulders. "Well, perhaps we should focus closer to home. All the Reach knows of the quality of our hives, and we are going to have a great number of lords here soon. It is going to be a perfect opportunity for establishing new trade relationships."
"That feast is going to be the death of me. I am already swamped in work, and I keep worrying that Alan is going to do some damn foolish thing." Lytton complained.
Adrianna frowned, and then steeled herself. "Perhaps we have to make it clear to Alan what his duties and responsibilities are, as your heir."
Lytton looked at his wife and they had a silent conversation with their expressions. Finally, he spoke. "A progress?"
She nodded. "Some time away from luxury would do him good."
Lytton ran a plan through his head. "I can take the rest of the children as well. It will be easier to prepare Honeyholt without us, and they have never actually seen our lands."
Adrianna kissed Lytton on the cheek. "This will be good for everyone."
As they just sat in silence, enjoying each other's presence, Lytton felt truly calm for the first time since Barret had been injured. He was glad nothing else urgent had happened so he could give his full attention to what mattered most, his children and the future of his house.
~ Alice
The four children who made up Barret's retinue were spending their afternoon at the hill atop which Honeyholt stood. This would have not been unusual, save for the fact that they were underneath the hill rather than on it. The four of them crept along the tunnel they had found in their hideout. Henry was in front, marching forward without a care in the world. Alice and Robin were behind him, both of them jockeying to be in front of the other, yet they would always look back to make sure the other was not far behind. And bringing up the rear was William, who was spending his time watching and listening for anything that he might recognize.
He was also periodically marking the walls with a piece of chalk they usually used to draw pictures on the hideout walls. William had told his friends about how his father marked trees in the forest with arrows to help lost folks find their way out, and they all agreed it was a good idea to help stop them getting lost underground.
A bit into the tunnel, near the entrance, had been a small pile of candlesticks and dusty handles that fit them. William had gone back to the cave and started a small fire with kindling from the forest and a technique his father had taught him involving spinning a stick with a specially made bow.
The gang had lit the candles and ventured forth. As they walked, it became very clear that these tunnels were not solely manmade. The floor had been cleared of anything that could block the thoroughfare, but the walls and roof were still rough stone. It looked like the work of some sort of burrowing animal, or perhaps the hill just had tunnels since time immemorial.
None of the gang could imagine digging even a single tunnel of the kind they were exploring, and it soon became apparent it was not unique. After about half an hour of walking, which the gang filled with discussions about what they thought was at the end of the tunnel (Alice and Robin talked of hidden treasure, William warned there might be a bear or other cave-dwelling animal, and Henry was just excited to be on an adventure), the gang reached a fork in the road. The left path angled up while the right one descended.
"What do we do?" Robin asked.
"Well," Alice said as she shined her candle down each path, "Honeyholt is at the top of the hill, so that tunnel probably leads there."
"Okay, so why don't we-" Robin was cut off by Alice.
"But Maester Robert said to not come back until he called for us. So we should head down."
Henry nodded. "Makes sense." He started marching down the right runnel.
William let out a small grunt before keeping right as well, and Alice followed behind him.
Robin stood spluttering protestations, until Alice turned around, smirked and stuck out her tongue at him. "I- You- Uuuuugh!" Robin let out a noise of frustration before following the rest of his friends down the dark tunnel, their candles flickering with the movement.
