Velstadt stood in Vendrick's office, watching his liege lift papers on his desk, searching for something he had yet to locate. "Do whatever you think is best, Vel. We should be looking forward to an end to this war soon enough." He sighed heavily. "Bloody hell, where is it!"
Velstadt furrowed his brow. After the wedding, the King had become increasingly distracted. Velstadt could feel the shift in his aura, but he wasn't sure what to make of it. As if a darkness had started to creep in. A darkness he felt on the Queen. "Where is what, my liege?"
Vendrick moved around his desk and started checking the side tables. "The schedule and the poem. Nehma's Day is tomorrow."
Nehma's Day had been mentioned in passing by his second. Velstadt had heard murmurs of it when he passed through the training halls. It had very little to do with him, but he did not mind allowing those of his men to take off early for their loved ones. Even those within their own ranks. As long as their duties were not impaired while they were on shift.
It would be a good day to catch up on reports from around Drangleic.
The King pulled a key from a pouch on his belt. The key turned the lock on the drawer of the side table. "Ah." He nodded and produced a folded piece of paper from the drawer. Vendrick lifted the top fold and smiled. "There we are." He held them in one hand and shook them in Velstadt's direction. "I locked them up to keep them from my love's curious eyes."
Vendrick smiled to Velstadt. "What about you? Anything planned for your Lieutenant in my brother's mansion?"
Velstadt stiffened, his thumb started to rub absently on his helmet at the question. "Why should I have anything planned for her?"
Vendrick locked the drawer and turned to his General. "It's Nehma's Day, Vel. Do you not have anything planned for your Lady Liandra?"
"Sir Liandra." The correction fell from his lips unbidden. She hated being called Lady. She only tolerated it from him because of their friendship. Vendrick arched a brow. "Apologies, my liege. That is not her title. She works for the crown."
Vendrick pointed at Velstadt as he returned to his desk. "She works for you, who works for the crown. You hired her to watch Aldia without my sanction, if you recall." Velstadt dropped his gaze to the grain of the wood. He had once fought for Raime as well. "Which should be proof enough that you should have something planned for her." Vendrick opened the papers, bending them forward at the creases.
Velstadt swallowed hard. "I have apologized for going against your wishes, my liege. She is the best suited to keep the beasts at Lord Aldia's keep in check. She has proven herself on more than one-"
Vendrick leveled a hard stare on the General, quieting his protests. "You don't have to defend her to me. She has more than proven her worth." He smirked and lifted his head. "Just because I do not approve of her does not mean she is bad at her job. You only have to look at my brother for proof." He crossed his arms over the desk. "You're very vocal about your lack of romantic involvement with your Lieutenant, and yet you defend her with every fiber of your being."
Velstadt's gaze fell again. He felt a tightness in his chest, a tug at the void on his left shoulder. She was his Lieutenant. "There is too much work to do, my liege. The War effort still requires-"
Vendrick shrugged and relaxed in his chair. "Simply handled. I order you to take the day off."
Velstadt's grip tightened on his helmet. "My liege, I must object-"
Vendrick shook his head. "Objection noted and ignored. I would strongly advise that you spend time with your Sir Liandra, but I will not order you to. What you do on your day off, for Nehma's Day, is your own business."
The Royal Aegis's left hand curled into a fist. There was no getting out of it. Ever since the Queen had appeared in the King's life, he was bound and determined to drive Drangleic as far from stability in service to his Queen. "Thank you, my liege. I will consider it." The Royal Aegis had taken to lying to his liege. All in service to the land. "By your leave."
The King waved a dismissive hand and returned to his papers.
Velstadt spent a great deal of the night preparing for his prescribed "day off" as ordered by the King. He provided his second with all the information he would need for the day. All important missives were sent out. As of last report, the Giants maintained a retreat, but every fort had a large missive with damage reports, still a wharf full of dead men, cities and towns still razed with ever growing graveyards, more corpses tossed into the pit in Majula. Still families losing members to the Hollowing. The Bastille's cells filled quickly with more and more Hollows. Something needed to be done. He did not have time for a day off. Drangleic still required him. In absence of her King.
"General? Letter from Aldia's Keep." A messenger offered a wax sealed paper to him.
The seal belonged to her. A simple, jagged bolt behind a sword. Velstadt took the letter and sent the messenger on their way. He closed the door to his office, a smile spreading on his lips. Her letters were the highlight of his day when they arrived. Rarely ever formal, but still friendly and informative. They were a breath of fresh air amongst all the reports and letters from Captains and Commanders and Scouts.
Velstadt moved to his desk and sank into the chair behind it. He used a letter opener to carefully break the seal on the trifolded parchment. He lifted his hand to his face, his thumb pressing into his cheek, the rest lazily hanging over his mouth.
Dearest General, Aldia is taking the day off tomorrow for some kind of event with Your Liege.
Velstadt smirked. She always teased him about his devotion. Good-naturedly, of course.
As such, the mansion should be quiet. I hope everything is quiet on your end for whatever it is that Vendrick has planned. Freshly wed and with a disposable income and men, I imagine he has some amazing shindig planned. I know how much you hate those, though, so I hope for your sake he at least left you out of it. I mean, Aldia will be there, most likely to provide some sorcery to the day. Me, I plan on spending the day catching up on the itemization of the creatures that Aldia has been working on. His assistants keep records of the experiments they perform, but I want to make sure I know what they are, what they were, and anything else I might need to know should me and my boys have to fight them. It's been interesting, I'll give it that. Speaking of interesting, it's been almost a year now, hasn't it? I suppose I should thank you for dragging me out here and giving me this position. It's been far more rewarding than I would've thought. And I'm glad I'm the one doing it. I doubt anyone else would be good at it. Except you, of course. But you got the King to worry about, and those mooks you call Kingsguard. I hope they get to be as good as me someday. You know I'm kidding, right, General? Not about the thank you. I really do appreciate everything you've done for me. Maybe one day I'll be able to Your Lady Liandra
Velstadt brushed his fingers along his jawline until they met at his chin. It had been almost a year. And he had felt more complete, more compelled, more at ease in that last year subsisting on letters and reports than any other year. He looked forward to every letter, every tale she regaled him with. Of the ogres, of the mutated rats. Of the strange bugs. They were awful in theory, but the way she spoke of them diminished their horror. When she told him of how she had defeated them, how she had saved the lives of everyone there, he was comforted by his decision in conscripting her despite the King's wishes.
Velstadt knew the value of a good Miracle caster. And if there ever was one, it was Lady Liandra. But whenever he thought of her, he remembered her in the dress the Queen had forced on her the first few days in the castle. The wait for a new chestplate from the Blacksmith had taken longer than anticipated. The Queen had found her, an attractive young woman not a threat to her, and decided to take her under her wing. No amount of protests had been enough. Lady Liandra had escaped later with a much needed meal for the General that she brought to his office.
Velstadt had been mesmerized by the simple gown. He met her in combat, engaged her as a soldier, caster, and sword arm first. The trappings the Queen graced her with – the paint on her eyes and lips, the soft curls that reflected the candlelight, the corset that pushed her breasts up to meet the revealing neckline – reminded him that she had so much more to offer. He chose instead to focus on the scars on her chest and arms from fights, from a snapping line, from a fall, from her miracles.
She hadn't been self-conscious about them until he had asked her about the largest gash over her chest. She had blushed, tried to deflect with a question about his intentions. Having summarily flustered him, she allowed him an answer. He had asked about the other visible ones, about the tattoo on her ankle, on the front of her shoulder.
He swallowed hard thinking of that night. She had warned him there were others under the fabrics. He had declined her playful invitation to find them all. She toyed with him. And he fell for it, easily flustered by her flirtations and temptations of the flesh. He would never admit to how close he came to giving in to that temptation, how he would've delighted to explore her. To find every last scar, every last bruise, every tattoo. He wanted to know what she felt like, what she sounded like when he pressed his lips to her neck. He wanted to know if she released electricity when she prayed for climax, if she would worship him as they worshipped the light.
He cleared his throat and folded the letter back up.