The Alleged Paradigm

by burntoashe

"Not a stranger

No I am yours

Crippled anger

And tears that still drip sore"

"Cut" by Plumb

4.1

Adan was grateful to be free of the woman's shoddy house in the basement of some shop. To be very polite, the room had smelled like dust and urine, and Adan was thankful for the fresh evening air. He turned towards the street, knowing it would be a bit of a walk to catch one of the Winds from here. He didn't mind overmuch. He wanted time to clear his head and get that woman's scent off of him before returning to the home of his Queen. Nicole, despite it all, was innocent of the horrors of this place.

Dhemlan was destroyed. It was not even a festering wound, but one too far gone to save. A Healer would have known it needed to be severed, to save what of Terreille that could be saved. He avoided looking around as he walked, feeling colder than he had in some time.

He turned down an alley, still fairly well lit even at this hour. He was confident that he was untouchable. Few would be foolish enough to tangle with a Warlord Prince, especially one as... on edge as he was. The Red pendant he wore quite openly should be all the deterrent anyone else might need.

He paused long enough to adjust the cuff on his coat when he realized that something felt wrong.

Adan shifted his footing, even so slightly. He was being followed, he was sure of it now. He didn't turn around, that would be too obvious. He probed, gently, with the Red, and found a bubble of psychic power some yards behind him. Dark power, but he was darker.

He snapped a thought of the Red at the bubble and it popped. He turned at the same time, and the flash of icy gold eyes, a swirl of dark hair and cold, cold power was all the impression he had before he was dodging knives. Physical ones. He snapped a Red shield up in time to save himself, and turned back to find the figure of his attacker.

She, for he realized quickly that it was a witch, had thrown her full strength at him. He felt the snap of strength... Green, if he estimated correctly, and felt the rebound. It struck her. It was a careless mistake, but he doubted she had ever come face to face with someone who wore the darker Jewel.

He caught her arm and dragged her back to her feet. She snapped up her head and snarled, but he had her effectively pinned.

"Who are you?" he snapped. She bared her teeth. He realized, belatedly, that she was trying to wretch her head around and bite him. He yanked a hand away, and she broke his grip on the other before he could rebound. He moved to intercept her flight, but she wasn't trying to get away. She was trying to get under his guard.

He'd thrown up protective shields that had shattered under such harsh use. They had been hasty, and he was not a fighter by training. He hadn't expected such a slight girl would be a challenge, either. He recalculated his odds when the heel of her hand struck him in the nose. He saw stars, his eyes watered, and pain exploded behind them. He snarled, temper snapping the leash. He grabbed her, snapped Red shields up around them both rather firmly, and drew her up to look at him.

"I suggest you answer the question before I break you in half." It was a ruse. Without much better reason, he would never harm a witch. Even one so annoying as this one. But she seemed startled enough by the violence she'd drawn to the surface to rethink a more foolish course of action.

She still didn't answer. She opted to fight with words. "You asked about Cosette Deloncre... why?" she demanded. Adan narrowed his eyes and looked over this woman's face, but didn't see any trace of the Deloncre blood that might betray her. He had thought for a moment that this woman might be Cosette... she had been barely more than a child when he'd seen her last... but he doubted it.

"I am searching for her on behalf of my Queen."

The witch's eyes were cold... so cold. "And why does your Queen want her?" Adan reconsidered telling the witch something impolite. He sensed the spike of fear, and knew that though three years had passed... three years was not much time in the scope of the lives of the long lived. It would be much longer before the people trusted Queens once again.

Adan spoke softly, honestly. "My Queen is Nicole Deloncre... the Lady's sister."

The cold, snarling witch transformed. There was something... pain?... in her eyes. He couldn't quite tell, but it was gone before he could discern exactly what it was. She was skilled at hiding herself, in mind and body he would imagine.

"Nicole... Deloncre... has been dead for a very long time, sir. That is a cruel lie." she said, voice hoarse. Adan blinked, startled at her sudden grief, and released her. He studied her.

"You are not Cosette... who are you, Lady?" he asked softly.

She studied him, wary, with animal shyness. His nose still hurt, so he amended that thought... a violent animal. Like a tiger.

"Blythe Ametrine."

4.2

Nicole took breakfast private, habitually, unless her Steward thought it important for her to do otherwise. Because this morning was no different than any other, she nibbled on her meal over some bit of paperwork that Vincent had left for her, enjoying the last peace she was likely to experience today.

The Warlord Princes were coming to the estate today, for her to choose a Court. She was nervous, of course, but she knew she had to face them with calm and poise. Dhemlan had always been a place ruled by the aristo sensibilities of the upper echelon, with reason and calm dignity. Nicole knew this, and yet she found herself wishing futilely for some of the casual assurance that she found so comforting... a thing so natural to Kaeleer, especially since the formation (and subsequent dissolving) of the Dark Court.

A soft knock at the door and the new maid, Liliane, entered. Nicole smiled an encouragement and nodded. "Yes, Liliane?"

"Lady, Prince Adan requests a word. In his office." Liliane was still somewhat animal shy around the Queen, and she was a stickler for formal Protocol. Nicole was giving her some time to adjust before she introduced the more casual attitude she preferred in her home residence.

But the request unnerved Nicole. Adan had the same tendency towards formality when he was concerned about something, she'd always realized, but he knew as well as she did that the Warlord Princes were coming today. Everything else was being put on the back burner, so to speak, until the Court was formed and ranks were neatly arranged.

He hadn't been at dinner the night before. She'd questioned Vincent, who had been elusive. Was something wrong? Was Adan ill? She pushed to her feet and quickly dressed. She'd intended to spend a more leasurely time dressing, with a careful eye to color and presentation, but she simply pulled on a day gown and let her dark brown hair fall over her shoulders. It was a youthful look, and if she'd been thinking more, she'd have known it wasn't what she should have done. She was young enough, she didn't need to give an illusion of further youth.

She hurried to Adan's office. Even a concerned Queen knew better than to burst into his office without so much as a knock. So she did. The noise resounded, but served their purpose. Nicole felt the shields around the office shift and the door unlock beneath her hand. She turned the knob and entered.

She met his eyes across the room before she noticed that he was not alone.

"Adan..."

Movement alerted her to the other witch's presense long before she extended her senses to be alerted. Put on guard, Nicole's stance shifted. She didn't know this woman before her, and she didn't like having this surprise on a day she was already ill at ease. She turned back to Adan, a question in her eyes.

"Lady... may I have the pleasure of introducing our guest?" he asked. There was a high level of formality in his voice, and she wondered who this guest was. She turned to look back at her.

The witch had hard eyes, but there was a soft sheen to them... as if she was trying not to cry. She was a little older than Nicole, perhaps, but they were of a similar age. Her clothes were well patched and tended, but worn. It was apparent she had been living rough for the last few years, if not more.

"Lady Nicole Deloncre... please be reacquainted with Blythe Ametrine... your cousin."

Nicole's jaw fell open, and she was stunned. The other witch rose from the chair and hesitated. Nicole reached for her... and they were soon clinging to one another.

"Blythe? Truly?" she whispered. The other witch nodded, clinging tighter, before she stepped back enough to study Nicole's face.

"We all thought you were dead, Nicole... when the estate was burned..." she closed her eyes and took a shaky breath. She turned back to Adan. "You weren't lying. I... thank you, Prince."

Adan nodded an acknowledgement, but looked to Nicole. "I hate to break up this reunion, but..."

Nicole closed her eyes and nodded. Blythe looked between them. "What is it?" she asked warily.

"I have asked the Warlord Princes interested in Court service to visit today... I intend to form my Court in a few hours." she explained swiftly. Blythe's eyes narrowed, thoughtful. Nicole studied that face, then the Green pendant hanging above the neckline of her blouse. Blythe had worn the Summer sky, her Birthright, when Nicole had seen her last.

"May I attend upon you, Lady?" she asked hoarsely. Nicole blinked, unsure.

"What are you asking, Blythe?" she countered.

Blythe steeled herself. Nicole could see the muscles tensing, the tension around her sharp gold eyes. "I want to serve in your Court." she said somewhat rapidly. "I realize... we've only just remet, and it might take you some time to trust me... but I've dreamed of this. None of us dared to believe you were really still alive, but..."

Nicole stared, uncomprehending. Blythe shifted, pulled away somewhat, and raised a hand. Underneath her ring finger appeared a snake's tooth. Nicole's eyes were wide and she took a step back, cautious. Blythe hadn't been a Black Widow... had she? Nicole looked at her cousin, confused.

"I was training before the attack... but my mother thought it best that no one knew. Not even your parents." she said softly. "With the way things were, we thought it would be better if the secret remained among as few as possible... I would have told you when you formed your Court." she said very softly. Nicole's eyes flicked to Adan, who shrugged gently. He knew better than to intrude. This was between the Ladies.

Nicole took a deep breath and let it out before she let the resigned smile slide over her face. "I suppose I shouldn't be surprised. The summer you were so ill..." she trailed off. Blythe smiled sadly and nodded. The two shared a moment of bittersweet memory before Nicole touched Blythe's shoulder. "I would be glad to have you, cousin."

Blythe shifted, and something in her seemed to fit into place. Reaffirmed, she turned to face Adan as Nicole spoke.

"Prince, please ask Vincent to arrange for another suite to be opened for Lady Blythe in the same wing as my own. In the meantime," she turned to face her cousin. "You can have the other bedroom in my own suite." Blythe laughed gently. That room was traditionally the Consort's room, but Nicole had no formal Court, let alone no Consort.

"Aren't you going to be filling that position today, with the formation of your Court?" Blythe teased.

Nicole flushed, but it was the undercurrent of danger from Adan that startled both Ladies. Blythe glanced at Adan, but it was Nicole who acted. She linked arms with Blythe and excused them both.

4.3

Xavier shifted, uncomfortable. He was one of perhaps three dozen Warlord Princes who had shown up. Nearly all the males who had come to the original meeting were here. All were hungry for something... and what the Lady Deloncre had dangled in front of them was something that none of them could afford to discard offhand.

When she'd appeared at that meeting, he'd felt the razor sharp line drawn in his own soul, but he'd come despite that. He knew that many of the other men still looked to him for guidance, trusting his judgment. He'd been a firm supporter of the rebellion that had rocked Dhemlan to its knees , and now that they had a chance to rebuild, the mistrust between the classes was likely to destroy them entirely.

Lady Deloncre was aristo born, but there was something about her demeanor that did not immediately cause him to flinch away from her. He didn't entirely understand what that was, but he was willing to discover it.

The problem always had been that the aristos had let Hayll in when the common people had wanted to fight. Dhemlan had been awkwardly ruled for years before Hayll's influence threatened to tear them apart. The issues were not all caused by Hayll, but by an absentee ruler and assumptions that hurt everyone... Xavier was too young to remember those days clearly, however. He had always known the aristos to be the source of Hayll's poison.

But the Deloncre name was one that the rebels had held in infamy. Augustin Deloncre, Nicole's father, had been one of their greatest supporters.

The line, always there.

A hush settled over them as Lady Deloncre entered, flanked by those same four males that had accompanied her to the meeting a week earlier. Xavier judged they already served her, and had come with her back to Dhemlan. All had the look of the long lived, but most of them were strangely different. Distant cousins of the Dhemlanese in Terreille, perhaps. Strange.

The witch that accompanied the Lady to the head of the room blended into the background with practiced ease, but Xavier noticed her.

"Princes, I thank you for coming." Nicole's voice rolled over them, like cool water on a hot day. Some of the men actually sighed, and others turned away, repulsed. Xavier felt a punch to his gut, like red hot fingers of desire coursed through him. Repulsed by his own response, he forced himself to look away from her.

"As I had indicated, I intend to form a Court today. All of you have come, which indicates your interest in this Court. I thank you for that... and I hope that together we can help rebuild what we all have loved about Dhemlan."

Nicole glanced at the Warlord Prince at her side, the one who had addressed the others at the meeting a week ago. Her First Escort, if Xavier judged the body language correctly.

It had not been so long in Dhemlan that the people did not recognize or understand Blood Law and Protocol, but it had been long enough that the presense of a rich, dark, beautiful Queen was causing the men to become restless and unsure. Violence was a hairs breadth away from exploding, and the moment that the Queen's hand touched that of her Escort's, someone shoved into Xavier from the back. He stumbled forward, but caught himself, turning to stare at what had exploded as a conflict between two men. Warlord Princes, both, with dark enough Jewels to be dangerous to everyone in the room.

Xavier cast his eyes towards the head of the room, where the Queen stood, now directly flanked by her males, including the two dark Jeweled Warlord Princes on either side of her. Sapphire and Red. Their pendants were gleaming. But it was the light glittering in Lady Deloncre's eyes that was so fascinating.

Xavier turned back towards the fighting and waded in. These men respected him. He intended to use his influence to stop the fighting, and to save this chance that the Queen was giving them.

But she beat him to it.

"Princes, ATTEND."

And everything stopped. Most of the men in the room felt as if their leashes had been yanked. Those who did not stumbled backwards. Her Green Jewel shone, like a beacon, catching the eye of them all, and stole their attention.

Hungry eyes fixed on her.

Her face was a cool mask, backlit by those glorious gold eyes.

PREVIEW OF CHAPTER FIVE:

Nicole poured over the documents with her Steward, once more officially her Steward, glad for the pot of herbal tea they were sharing. Vincent was her Steward. Adan, her First Escort. Sebastien was her Master of the Guard. She had appointed no Consort, but had gathered the required thirteen males to form her First Circle. Later, she would search elsewhere for more.

"Prince Xavier seems promising." Vincent commented. Nicole nodded. She remembered him quite well. She'd recognized the others had deferred to him in many ways. "I'd name him an official Escort of the First Circle."

That would put him at her elbow, metaphorically speaking. She liked that. She smirked, and Vincent raised a questioning eyebrow.

"Blythe probably won't appreciate that. As Escort of the First Circle, any of the First Circle Ladies without Consorts of their own would become his responsibility." she laughed lightly to herself to think of Xavier and Blythe having to work together directly. If Blythe was anything like she used to be, and Nicole was coming to realize she was, then her cousin would give Xavier a run for his money. Poor boyo.