“Am I interrupting the lesson?” Perry asked with a look of mild embarrassment.

  Gertrude and Avenell both stood up from their chairs.

  “Not at all, Sir Perry,” Avenell said.

  Gertrude gestured to the table with her wooden spoon.

  “We were just finishing up, Lord Mannigold.”

  Perry put his hand on his hip.

  “And how are they doing?”

  Avenell turned to Gertrude, waiting for her to answer. Instead, Gertrude put her hand behind her back and stepped back a pace from him. Realizing her betrayal, Avenell resigned to give the answer.

  “They…have mastered some skills…and are working on others.”

  “I see.”

  Avenell waited for another question, but none came. Rather, Perry stood there with a nervous look; clutched in his hand was a small wooden box with a familiar engraving. Gertrude and Avenell shared a look. Gertrude then stepped forward and spoke.

  “My Lord,” she said with a bow, “Mary and I have a few other lessons to review.”

  “A-absolutely, Gertrude. Please, do not let me interfere.”

  Mary looked suspiciously at Ellis who shrugged his shoulders. At once, Gertrude crossed the room and stood beside Mary; in her hand she brandished her wooden spoon.

  “Come, Mary.”

  Mary rose from the chair and followed Gertrude out of the room, giving one last look of desperation to Ellis as she disappeared into the hallway.

  “Master Telhari,” Avenell said, suddenly. “Would you mind accompanying me to the study? I would like to review the potential guest list with you, so that you may have some information on the other nobility.”

  Telhari took survey of the situation. It seemed Ellis was the only one who was oblivious.

  “Of course, Avenell,” Telhari said as he stood up, “Thank you.”

  Together, the two of them crossed the room and closed the door behind them as they left.

  “It seems the instructions are going well,” Perry said awkwardly as he headed over to the table.

  “I suppose…” Ellis mumbled bitterly —and half to himself— as he rubbed the back of his hand. Then, he caught sight of the wooden box that Perry held at his side.

  “Uncle, what’s that?”

  Perry placed the box onto the table and sat down.

  “This? This is a gift.”

  Ellis eyed the box suspiciously.

  “A gift?”

  Perry cleared his throat a few times, but said nothing. He wasn’t quite sure how to begin. But suddenly, Ellis reached forward and grabbed greedily at the box.

  “What’s inside!?”

  Perry lunged at him and snatched the box back.

  “Patience, Ellis!” Perry then adjusted the box on the table and turned it to face him. “This,” Perry began, “Is something that I had always meant to give to you…but there just never seemed an occasion for it. Until now, that is.”

  Ellis gave him a look as he fidgeted in the chair.

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  Perry sighed.

  “Now you may open it.”

  Ellis’ chair scraped across the floor as he shot forward and grabbed the box. In a flash, he flipped open the top and looked inside. Staring back at him was an exquisitely crafted knife, with glittering golden ornaments running along the handle. At the end of the handle was hollowed out a space; and placed inside it was a plate of gold, imprinted with a calligraphic letter ‘M’. Beside the knife was laid a silver spoon of equal magnificence with a gold encrusted handle and an engraving of the same letter ‘M’.

  “Uncle…what are these?”

  Perry nudged the box forward with a smile.

  “Go on. Take them out.”

  Ellis hesitated to do as he was told. He had never seen something so ostensibly regal. It was too beautiful to touch. He felt unworthy. But he couldn’t bring himself to disappoint his uncle, whose patient yet eager smile urged him onward. And so he reached his hand into the box and withdrew the knife. Freed from the shadow of the wooden lid, its golden luster shone more brightly— even in this dimly lit room.

  “Its fantastic,” he said as he turned it in his hand. “Its a little small for hunting though…”

  Perry’s sudden baritone laughter made Ellis confused.

  “Its not for hunting, Ellis,” Perry declared as he patted his chest. “It is for dining.”

  Perry turned the box toward himself, reached inside, and withdrew the spoon. He held it thoughtfully for a moment, then flipped it between his fingers and pointed the end toward Ellis.

  “This,” he said as he gestured to the calligraphic letter ‘M’, “Is a symbol of the house of Mannigold.” Perry continued to turn the spoon over in his hands as he continued. “Many years ago, the ancestor of the Mannigold family — a man named Gilbert Cunningham— became known all throughout Omnirius for his wealth and status. At weddings, banquets and even royal coronations, he would bring his own cutlery— a knife and spoon made of stunning gold. At the time, and even to this day, it is more customary to dine with tools of silver. Yet Gilbert would flaunt these golden utensils, and even give them away as special favors. He became known to all as the “Man of Gold”. Eventually, the name stuck. And he took Mannigold as his new surname.”

  Perry turned the box back toward Ellis so he could have a look. Ellis stared at it a few moments, then placed the knife back inside and shrank away from it.

  “Thank you, Uncle, but I can’t…”

  “I understand how you feel, Ellis,” Perry said in a low voice. “I felt the same when my father would boast about Gilbert and his antics. Those in my family choose to see his story as a lesson in the values of domination, wealth and status. I disagree.”

  Ellis looked up from the box with a questioning glance.

  “That is part of the reason I left to fight in Rhoden’s army,” Perry continued. “The politics. The rules. The obsession with status. Watching my siblings run about, squabbling over things that seemed so highfalutin. I never much cared for any of it.”

  “So you left?”

  Perry nodded.

  “And so I left. Mind you, I was not the heir to the estate, of course. Though,” Perry sighed, “I suppose a second born son has their value.” Perry paused a moment, then laughed to himself at unspoken memories. “Needless to say I doubt that my father has ever forgiven me for it.”

  “Then you should take them!” Ellis said suddenly as he looked up at Perry. “They are yours by right. It is your family they represent, not mine.”

  Perry smiled at Ellis as he made his plea. And Ellis did not understand what was so funny.

  “What!?”

  Perry put a hand on Ellis’ shoulder.

  “Don’t you ever listen? It is as you say. They are mine. And I choose to give them to you.”

  Ellis felt a shame well up inside of him. And with each passing second, Perry’s hand grew heavier and heavier. Finally, the chair screeched as Ellis pushed himself away from the table and stood up.

  “Uncle, I can’t take this.”

  “Ellis—”

  “Really, I can’t! I am grateful that you would give it to me— honest, I am— but I could never take this. It wouldn’t be right!”

  “It is mine to give,” Perry said with a firm tone. “It is tradition that they should be passed from father to son.”

  Ellis nearly choked on his words. He looked up with misty eyes toward his uncle and was met with only genuineness and love.

  Ellis looked down again at the open box— a hollow vessel of gilded promise.

  “What is so wrong with it, Ellis?” Perry asked with a soft chuckle. “It is simple cutlery.”

  Ellis shook his head from side to side.

  “What will they think?”

  “Who?”

  “The others! The nobles. Your family. All of them! If I go with you to Gate City, they’ll know. They’ll know that I am not like them. That I don’t belong.”

  Perry leaned forward, placed a hand on Ellis’ head, and pulled him in close.

  “You listen to me, Ellis. If you ever listen to a single thing I tell you, let it be this. I do not care if it is not by blood. You are my family and I love you. No matter what anyone else says. Wherever I am — that is where you belong. Do you understand me?”

  Ellis couldn’t bring himself to speak, and so he simply nodded back at Perry.

  “Good.”

  Perry smiled warmly back at him. He then paced his arm around Ellis’ back and hugged him close.