To be honest, it was with his mentor that the heir showed himself to be quite good: master Turvon was passing through their area, not everyone would have had time to make such a fuss. Go find a master necromancer who is ready to take on an apprentice. There are maybe a dozen of them in the whole world, or even less, but in the kingdom there is only one. And, to be honest, in the depths of his soul, Ser Gaunt understood this very well. As well as the possible benefits of finding grandfather’s and great-grandfather’s hiding places and secrets. But the son is a necromancer!
But, whatever one may say, son. The only one. One cannot expect continuation of the family line from daughters; they will go to their husbands’ families, and in general, abandoning the first-born, the blood successor of the family name, and accepting a son-in-law-consort is much worse than allowing a son to study in a way that is not entirely appropriate. It is “not quite”, and not “not at all…” – magic, after all, not some kind of chicanery or, Great God forbid, trade. And the wife, although she does not interfere in the upbringing of her son, loves him and will not allow him to be driven out. To fight with his wife and daughters who adore his brother – no, he is still sane! Peace in the family is worth more than indulging a kicking offspring.
“Okay,” Ser Gaunt said almost forcefully. – I won’t say that I think it’s appropriate, but…
“Acceptable” will be quite enough, suggested Marius.
But then the idea of procreation finally came to its logical conclusion, and Sieur Gaunt again fell into a hissing rage.
– "Acceptable"? How will you order you to look for a bride? What girl would agree to tie her heart to a necromancer? I will not allow the family to fade away. Neither. Behind. What.
For some time, father and son silently glared at each other. Marius was the first to break the silence: he, after all, could not help but understand how terrible the very thought that the del Marre branch could dry out was for his father. And even more so – through his fault.
– Is this the last reason? What if I give my word that I will find a suitable bride myself?
“When you find…,” Ser Gaunt began, cooling down, but his son interrupted disrespectfully:
– No, that would be wrong! I need a girl who won’t be afraid of my gift, which means she can’t hide it.