The Half-Blood Brigade

"Wake up Emerick."

The sharp, stern tone forced the young man to groan and stir. Blinking blearily, he realized from the lack of sunlight streaming through the window, it was very early in the morning

"I thought I told you not to wake me up before noon Jacoby," Emerick yawned.

"I'm not Jacoby, little lordling," the voice above him replied frostily. With a frown, Emerick rolled toward the voice and found himself face to face with a pair of seething silver eyes. It was in that moment he realized how much trouble he was in.

"Why, good morning father," he offered a sheepish smile. "What brings you to my little lodge?"

"May I remind you that you had an appointment with Syre Baldric Arnwald Xanathanous the second, ruler of the of the Esperion Kingdom within our illustrious Wyrmshire empire this morning?" Jacoby spoke from the doorway of Emerick's sleeping quarters. "I've only been 'nagging' you about it for the better part of three weeks young master. As I recall, you insisted that you were 'well aware of it' and that you'd 'stuff my boutonniere down my throat' if I brought it up again."

The smugness in his butler's tone was very irritating, but not helpful. Frankly, Emerick would've preferred the shorter and simpler 'I told you so.' It was also quite pretentious of Jacoby to announce his father by his full title in such an informal situation. They were in his bed chambers after all, and Emerick was well aware of his father's importance.

"That was today huh?" Emerick yawned and rolled out of his bed. He probably should have been embarrassed about the fact that he stood before the king in nothing but boxers, but he didn't actually care. His father had seen worse.

"It was," Arnwald smiled in spite of himself. "You really couldn't put more effort into taking your responsibilities more seriously? As you well know, I didn't set that appointment for my own amusement." It was well known that the draconic ruler had a soft spot for his only son, though he was an illegitimate child born of his concubine.

"Doubtful," Emerick grunted as he stretched, "You've put more effort into other pranks. Like the silly little chores you assign me, for instance, though I suppose we can call them 'responsibilities,' if you so desire." He considered most of the work his father attempted foisting on him to be more busy-work than anything. At one point, his father had even tried forcing him into acting to get him 'out in society' as he put it. He could appreciate his father's concerns, as well as his frustrations, but that didn't change his mentality. His 'tainted' blood prevented him from truly succeeding in any platform, so why bother?

Though Emerick was Arnwald's only male heir, his illegitimate birth and his mixed blood-line made him ineligible to succeed his father. The only way to take his father's throne was by right of the conqueror, but he had no desire to take his father's life simply for the opportunity to sit on his throne. Besides, he was convinced the bulk of his many, many sisters were better suited to governing any way.

"As ever, young prince, you remain quite the handful," Jacoby shook his head and moved to start dressing him. Anticipating this, Emerick dodged him and quickly pulled on a pair of trousers. From there, they started their daily dance of discord as Jacoby attempted to force a shirt over his shoulders. Arnwald observed the chaotic scene with some amusement before he decided to take pity on the poor butler.

"You will need to be fully dressed," He announced, causing both to freeze. "If you had been to the meeting at my estate, as expected, you would already know this, but I have an important errand for you that requires you to travel."

"Oh goody." At his father's words, Emerick put his arms up in surrender and allowed Jacoby to force the stiff white fabric of a formal blouse onto each of his arms. After the buttons were done up, and the blouse was effectively tucked, he was forced to dawn a starchy grey vest, and finally a violet blazer. He drew the line at the black tie Jacoby attempted to loop around his neck.

"I need you to conduct an inspection of one of the slum based institutions," Arnwald spoke as Emerick was dressed. "It is a fair distance away, at least half a day's travel in fair conditions, and I expect this inspection to take several days, so I've arranged lodging."

"Don't you have men designated for such tasks?" Emerick yawned again and stepped into a pair of sturdy boots Jacoby had placed in front of him. "Why have me go?"

"Inspections are conducted quarterly, but I'm not satisfied with the reports I receive from either the facility or the inspectors," Arnwald frowned. "I've heard strange rumors amongst the servants about the place, some quite alarming, and yet I only receive vague reports, insisting that everything is 'fairly administered.' Wording which deeply disturbs me."

"There are numerous institutions within this city alone, not to mention throughout the other cities, villages, and countryside of your territory. What makes this one so special?" Emerick questioned.

Jacoby had begun brushing back his unruly mane, attempting to wrestle it down and tie it back into a low pony tail with a black satin ribbon that would've matched the discarded neck tie. Emerick's hair had a natural ombre, dark steel in color at the roots which abruptly faded to an icy blue near the tips, a trait inherited from his father. In his true form, the pale blue highlights in Arnwald's scales glowed with energy, which reminded Emerick of lightening in a storm cloud.

"This one has a high population of half-blooded children," Arnwald replied. "In fact, the majority of them are of mixed lineage, something I attribute to the fact that it is within the red light district."

"Lots of brothels and corresponding orphanages, eh?" Emerick chuckled. "Yeah, that would certainly do it. And, thankfully, with our illustrious Emperor's assertion that 'every single body counts' it's not as though 'systematic culling' is an option."

"Thankfully," Arnwald agreed with a sigh. "The treatment of those with mixed bloodlines is bad enough as it is, if it was lawful to outright butcher them…" He shuddered at the thought, as did Emerick. No, the laws in place didn't offer many rights to the half-bloods but bad as it was, it certainly could've been worse.

As it was, with the exception of Esperion, the empire permitted half bloods to be enslaved for criminal behavior, something which was far too easy for slave traders to work around. That said, while not much was thought of them, they remained a valuable asset by way of cheap labor, something that every business was desperate to obtain. Killing them wantonly, without 'just' cause, would rob the kingdom of desperately needed resources.

"So, aside from the high volume of half-bloods, what else about this place makes you skeptical of your men?" Emerick decided to refocus the subject. The sooner he could get going, the sooner he'd arrive, accomplish his work, and finally relieve himself of the itchy starched fabric covering his torso.

"All of the inspectors and instructors assigned to this institution make money from its operation. It would be easy to launder money from it, especially since the nobility, draconic or otherwise, don't care for half-bloods, children or no," Arnwald growled. "There is not a way for me to inspect it myself without being anticipated and any unethical proceedings covered up before I arrive. Besides, I am not comfortable with the fact it is called "Honey Pot" of all things."

"Honey Pot?" Emerick snorted before barking out a laugh. "What, is that supposed to be some kind of euphemism?"

"I don't think I truly want to know," Arnwald shook his head. "In any case, I can't think of anyone more suited to the task than you, my little lordling."

"I would be impartial," Emerick concluded. "I have no investment in this… 'Honey Pot,' nor would I have reason to try and make the staff or other inspectors look bad with a fraudulent report."

"Don't forget you're shamelessly blunt about your opinions," Jacoby added as he folded and placed changes of clothes for him into a luggage box.

"That too," Emerick grinned. "I'm guessing this is going to be a surprise inspection?"

"Of course," Arnwald nodded. "Now, I fear I've ignored my schedule for too long. I look forward to your report."

With a nod toward Jacoby who bowed in anticipation of his departure, Arnwald swept from the room. Emerick watched him go, chuckling to himself.

"Old busy body," He shook his head. "Don't know why he goes to such great lengths for me."

"Perhaps he simply expects you to become something more than a privileged lout," Jacoby suggested.

"Privileged? Moi? Pish tosh!" Emerick took on a mockingly dramatic tone. "Don't you know, I'm flat broke? My father only pays me a modest sum of 1,500 gold a week to maintain this cushy little estate that doesn't even have a fully functioning staff!"

"Your personality is, indeed 'broke' young prince," Jacoby verified.

"You're not supposed to agree so readily, Jacoby," Emerick shot him a playful scowl. After a moment, he laughed in spite of himself. "But seriously, I wish we had more staff on hand. I'm rather tired of you complaining about the amount of cleaning you have to accomplish in a day."

"You would complain too if you were solely responsible for maintaining the forty-two rooms of the primary estate as well as the entirety of the staff quarters which contains at least an additional forty or more smaller rooms, and that's before we get into other facilities on your grounds-"

"Yes, yes, thanks for proving my point," Emerick cut him off, not interested in hearing the ever growing number of rooms in his home. He swore, Jacoby gave him a larger number each time the topic came up, though he could've been wrong. He didn't ever listen closely to those rants.

"Forgive me," Jacoby cleared his throat and resumed his state of general composure. "In any case, whilst you were snoozing, your father hinted that this new errand might be a good opportunity to improve our staffing situation."

"Oh?" Emerick's interest in the inspection doubled at that moment. It wasn't that he didn't have the money to staff his estate, his father's allotted allowance was more than enough to pay comfortable wages for at least thirty servants on top of his armed guard. The problem was, though his father favored him highly, Emerick was a halfblooded bastard, and no one wanted to 'lower' themselves buy serving him.

"The purpose of the institutions is to nurture orphaned children's talents and prepare them for life as adults," Jacoby informed. "Most work hard to stand out in hopes of recruitment or even adoption. In a place full of half-bloods, there's almost certainly some children working doubly hard to stand out. If they aren't able to leave the system by their twentieth birthday, they're shipped off to the mines, or various sweatshops throughout the kingdom. In some cases, marriages are arranged, or—and this is purely speculation as generally slavery is only permissible when a crime has been committed—they may even be sold to the highest bidder."

"Hard workers desperate for a better life who aren't going to turn their noses up at me because of my mixed blood? Sounds… miserable… but it'll be a perfect recruiting ground nonetheless!" Emerick fought back another yawn as he smiled. "I don't suppose he left me with records to review so I know what standards the facility is supposed to be held to and what I need to look for in this investigation?"

"Indeed," Jacoby lifted a sizeable leather briefcase that was stuffed so full it was bulging. "Should I prepare the carriage?"

"No," Emerick shook his head. "I'd rather not look so important. We'll take the trolley most of the way. It's less conspicuous and a little faster for that matter. If you would be so kind to prepare the horses for the ride to the station, I'll collect Orval and the stable boy my father is lending us for the time being…. What's his name…"

"Chad."

"That's right," Emerick chuckled to himself. "Once we depart, I'd ask you to guide my stead as we ride. It seems I've got a lot of reading to do."