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House Garza had been struggling to restructure themselves, which had been further compounded by the battle at Logden Prison, where apparently the two most obvious successors to Socorro had both lost their lives, putting the family into an even more confused state once the dust had finally settled.

Blessedly, there had not been many casualties from that mess of a fight--and none at all from this current defense of Ridgemark--but that was small comfort for the Garzas right now, Diego knew.

Their new head, Valero Garza, was even younger than himself.

He’d met him many times over the years, and yet Diego still felt like he’d never really gotten to known him. At most, he’d gotten the impression that Valero was a very humble, unassuming guy; and looking at him now with those wide eyes, that assessment seemed to be spot on. Of all the assumptions Valero might’ve made about the trajectory of his own life, becoming the new head of his entire House had probably not been among them. Especially at such a young age.

Not to mention the war going on.

Diego felt for the poor fellow. What a time to be thrust into a leadership role.

To the man’s credit, though, he did manage to speak up and answer Lord Santos. “...I-I think th-that’s a sound plan, as well.”

And that was all, apparently.

Well.

It got the job done, Diego supposed. But he was pretty sure Lord Santos had been hoping for a bit more than that.

The Lady Evangelina Stroud filled the ensuing silence. “As for me, I like Diego’s idea well enough, but I still do not like the idea of staying in Vantalay to assist Graves. If he lets us leave without a fight, then I think we should just leave.”

“Then Evangelina and I are of the same mind,” said Rayen.

“It sounds like we are ready for a vote, then,” said Santos. “Assuming Graves passes our test, all in favor staying to assist him?” And he held up his right hand.

As did Grandma, Horatio, Dimas, and Valero.

Salvador, Evangelina, and Rayen did not.

“Five to three in favor,” said Lord Santos. “It would seem our course is set.”


Chapter Three Hundred: ‘O, enduring sands...’
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What a strange place this was. What a strange feeling. A place and a feeling. Merged into one. Inseparable. Indistinguishable.

He couldn’t think. Didn’t even want to, really. It was so comfortable here. Warm and peaceful. And yet plenty busy, too. Plenty to watch and be entertained by.