2.16 – Houses
“The Vetter family isn’t that important, globally speaking,” Sammy said. “Mostly, I’m just concerned you don’t know the name. It means you didn’t do your homework.”
“Homework?”
“I’m not from a noble house, either, you know,” Sammy pointed out. “So your situation isn’t that rare. Maybe not from down south like you, the middle of nowhere, but what’s that matter? I didn’t brush shoulders with nobility growing up, so I didn’t know their names because I had play dates with them. Had to learn. But I did, because I knew it’d be important, coming to Tenet.”
“Right.” Natalie recognized the mild scolding.
But, Natalie figured, she had Jordan for that sort of thing. And, unfortunately, Sofia, who probably knew more about the political situation in Tenet than even Jordan. Y’know, seeing how she pretended to be one of them, all the time.
But, explaining that to Sammy probably wouldn’t fly. Make her sound dependent, even. Which was ... kind of true. She was dependent on Jordan. Maybe Natalie should put more effort into this sort of thing.
“Anyway,” Sammy said pointedly, raising her eyebrows in minor chastisement. Natalie took it for the good-hearted concern it was. “Gabriel Vetter—or House Vetter—is one of the most influential houses aligned under House Ainsworth. You know who they are, I’m assuming.”
The words were sarcastic, but at Natalie’s blank look, Sammy gaped at her.
“House Ainsworth,” she repeated. “Nat. They own half the city.”
“Right ...” Natalie said. It was starting to come back. “They’re one of the five major houses.”
Sammy stared at her, baffled that it had even taken a second for Natalie to remember. Maybe she was a little more than ‘behind’ on this. Maybe she’d been willfully ignorant, even.
Just, really. Who cared? Politics. What everyone should be worried about was their class, their skills, and the dungeon.
“Yes,” Sammy said flatly. “One of the major houses. You know those, at least?”
“The Beaumons. Parda-Halt. Valeria. Uh ...” What was the last one? “The nerd house.”
“The nerd house?”
“The tinkers and mages.”
“House Gylver?”
“That’s the one.”
Sammy laughed. “That’s true. But there’s a skill to it. Making friends without making enemies.”
Natalie wrinkled her nose. Political deftness. Yeah ... she had a feeling that wouldn’t ever be her specialty. Didn’t intend to try. Way too much of a headache. “Well, Liz is nice. And like I said, if it needs to be someone, then I wouldn’t mind being friendly with her family.” The most powerful, individually, of any house.
“Just think about what you’re doing,” Sammy said. “I’m hardly going to tell you what to do, but think about it.”
Natalie was about to ask who Sammy ‘aligned’ with, but the question fizzled when a crash rang through the room. She winced, head snapping to the noise.
It took a moment to make sense of the chaos. One of the infamous ‘brawls’ had broken out. Only a portion of the party-goers—again, the healer’s guild was packed—bothered to watch. To be fair, the conflict didn’t seem to be a particularly interesting one. Two men had started swinging, a woman on the sidelines holding her head in one hand, seeming more irritated than concerned. A story as old as time.
She watched, interested, for a few moments, critiquing their wrestling forms. Drunk, it wasn’t particularly elegant—definitely a substandard brawl considering these were Tenet students, regardless of their role background. She winced as the losing boy made a vicious comeback, slamming the other’s head into the floor with a resounding smack. The floor tile cracked. Definitely upper years. They were fighting faster, and stronger, than they ought to, even clumsy as they were.
Nobody seemed concerned by the scuffle, only entertained. That was maybe the best proof that this sort of thing was routine. What else would she expect, stuffing hundreds of men and women whose professions were violence into a crowded party hall—then adding alcohol?
“Why’s it so easy to get booze, anyway?” Natalie asked, the question coming naturally in her head, but probably sounding random to Sammy. “Seems like Tenet would care more than they do.”
“Dunno,” Sammy said. “Like I said, it’s not that easy to sneak in.”
Natalie quirked an eyebrow. It wasn’t a few bottles that had been arranged for this party. Whoever the party organizers were, they’d smuggled in whole racks.
“But not that hard, either,” Sammy conceded. “Why they don’t care? I mean, I guess you’d have to ask the Dean, or someone equally high up. I’ve got plenty of theories, though.”
“Like?”
“To vent pressure?” She gestured at the fight. “Better a drunken brawl than actually letting things boil over. And forcing everyone to be secretive about it makes it more dangerous, not less.” She gave Natalie an amused look. “I’m a member of the tank’s guild, remember, so I’ve done my fair share of stringing these events together. I would know.”
“Huh,” Natalie said. The fight was wrapping up. There didn’t seem to be a clear victor. It was degrading into a verbal spar, with different groups helping peel the two boys apart. For all the legendary reputation, and Liz’s claims of ‘casualties’, the party wasn’t that different from the ones Natalie knew. Besides all the crystal glasses and fancy clothing, obviously.
Sammy downed the rest of her drink. “Anyway, you wanna head back? As much fun as I’m having, I feel like there’s more exciting things we could be doing.”
“Like each other?”
“Please, Nat. Leave it to subtext.”
“That’s not really my style,” Natalie grinned.
Natalie finished the last of her punch, then was pulled along by Sammy.