CROSS//Process, Part 4

CROSS//Process, Part 4 Hildred M. Billings Contents Copyright Series Order 1. Chapter 1 2. Chapter 2 3. Chapter 3 4. Chapter 4 5. Chapter 5 6. Chapter 6 7. Chapter 7 8. Chapter 8 9. Chapter 9 10. Chapter 10 Get PART 5 Free Stories! FB Group Copyright CROSS//Process PART 4 Copyright: Hildred BillingsPublished: 20th February, 2023Publisher: Barachou Press This is a work of fiction. Any and all similarities to any characters, settings, or situations are purely coincidental. All rights reserved. No part of this publication may be reproduced, stored in retrieval system, copied in any form or by any means, electronic, mechanical, photocopying, recording or otherwise transmitted without written permission from the publisher. You must not circulate this book in any format. Series Order MAIN SERIES REBIRTH REVENGE REGRESS REPENT RELEASE PREQUELS PROCESS PROPHET one A rrah; Federation Year 4527 Sonall and his father rode through the woods, their hats fluttering in the breeze and their gloves tight around their reins. I’m riding a stallion, Sonall thought with the glee that pressed against his face. Until that morning, both he and his sister were confined to riding mares, fillies, and geldings, the beasts for “lovely ladies and their small children.” Stallions were for esteemed men like Lord Vern, Marco di’Flare, and Howarth to ride through the countryside. Stallions were bred and sold across the Federation. Now Sonall was deemed old enough to ride one. Truth be told, it wasn’t much different from riding any other horse. The stallion he rode was black with gray spattered spots and galloped at an even pace, but that was not the point. The point was that his father took him into the stables and told him to choose one to ride. He even showed some pride when Sonall picked the gray-spotted stallion. “A magistrate from Terra III has inquired about buying that one,” he told Sonall. “Nice to see you share similar tastes.” They caught their breath at the top of a hill that capsized into a cliff overlooking the rest of the woods. Sonall settled his stallion and eased his body into his saddle and stirrups. The air was fresh in his nostrils and against his cheeks—like a gentle slap to the face. “Look at this,” Vern said with a sweep of the hand. “Someday, many years from now, this will all be yours, Void willing. I do not intend on leaving it to you until I’m good and dead.” “I look forward to learning everything you can teach me,” Sonall said with as much confidence as he could muster. Deep inside, though, he tittered at the prospect of this being the day his father started sharing business secrets, but he could never let his father see that and second guess his intuitions. “You will learn some things soon enough. First, though, you will begin private lessons with Marco, at least once every other day. He will teach you more about our trade. When you are ready in a couple of years, I will teach you true family affairs, and then you will have a place among the staff. Your general studies should be concluded by then.” “I’m glad to do it, Father.” Vern nodded with a grunt as if to reassure himself that this was his course of action. The stout black beard he kept on his chin flecked with each passing breeze, and his eyes sparkled with all the knowledge of his land. So thought a young man only now realizing the true extent of his prospective future. “When the time comes, we will search for a wife, if you do not find a suitable one for yourself. The Gardiah name will not die with you.” Sonall feigned understanding. He only had academic knowledge of what his father meant. “What do you know of women? You’re old enough to know how biology works.” “I…” Sonall fought back the last of his cracking voice. No wonder Marco couldn’t believe I was sixteen. Books told Sonall that puberty could hit anytime between ten and seventeen, but it would be his luck that it didn’t strike him down until his father commented on its absence. Between the growth spurts and squeaking vocal cords, however, Sonall liked to think he was growing as nature commanded. As for his father, who asked him these awkward questions when they were alone? “I have not been with a woman if that’s what you’re asking.” “I figured as much. You’re younger, and we are isolated. More so than I was at your age. I didn’t have my first until I was seventeen, and it wasn’t your mother.” Sonall didn’t know what to say. “Remember that the laws of succession are cleaner if you’re married to the woman who births your get. Having bastards by multiple women sounds fun, but they’ll muddy our family tree come your death. Think long and hard about who you want running our business when you’re gone. You can only control your actions, but following your head instead of your feelings should give you more peace of mind when you reach my age.” The words were out of Sonall’s mouth before he could stop them. “Do you have any bastards?” He meant it as a way of asking if he should be wary of anyone trying to stake claim to his father’s estates, but once he said the words, Sonall knew how horrible they sounded. “None older than you, no, and certainly none younger. After your mother, she was the only woman for me. You’d do best to find one the same for you.” Sonall bit his lip. “What about Graella? She’s older.” “Your sister will either marry and join another family, or she’ll be a maiden here for the rest of her life. So long as she has no bastards of her own, your claim will be safe from all sides.” A frown creased into Sonall’s skin. He didn’t like the idea of Graella getting married and leaving the family. She was the