Chapter 21: The Price of Nobility
Solona was in her office when the letter from Ostwick arrived. For weeks now she had been waiting for word from Daylen's agents in the walled city, some word if the plan to remove Baron Lafaille from their shores was ready to proceed.
To be honest she had started to lose hope. She had heard little from Bann Aliza since she had first sent Ana here, and what she had heard had nothing to do with the Orlesian or what the nobles of Ostwick were doing about him.
The Viscountess frowned.
Surely they had to know how dangerous their situation was becoming. The longer the Baron went without victory, the more likely he was to do something desperate, something that might cause irreparable harm to their fair city, and even if that did not happen, the man still had an army, perhaps not as large as it once was, but still a very strong force.
Such a force would likely be more than enough to occupy the coastal city.
Yes, she thought time was growing short, the longer they waited the more likely that something unexpected might happen, and with the Templars still crawling all over the keep, Solona would not be in the best position to try and stop it.
Which is why she turned to Daylen and his contacts in the first place, her brother seemed more than certain that with their combined resources, the Orlesian could be removed.
Now the letter had arrived, thee letter.
Her frown deepened as she read it. It seemed to contain nothing about their plans, just a lot of talk about the weather and certain popular trends that had come from Orlais. It did contain the code-phrases she and Daylen had agreed upon, to show that it was a correspondence about their plan.
So, what was going on here?
What…was she missing?
Solona ran he fingers over the parchment. She was missing something, she was sure of it. She could sense the slight twinge of magic from the paper, but none of the revealing spells she knew uncovered anything.
Finally, she sighed.
It seemed that she would have to seek out help if she wanted to know exactly what was in front of her.
She called for one of her pages; the man was there in seconds.
She gave him her most regal look.
"Have the guards bring my brother here please," she said.
The man nodded and bowed before heading back out into the keep.
The Viscountess leaned back in her chair and sighed heavily.
Even though he had agreed to help her, even though he had done everything she had asked since his surrender, she could still not shake the feeling that Daylen was up to something. It had taken her losing everything to see what kind of a man her brother had grown into, how he had spent much of his mid-teens plotting against her, and gathering her enemies for the sole purpose of overthrowing her.
Her frown deepened.
What was he doing up there? What did he think about as he lay on his bed locked in his tower room? Had he truly decided to aid her, or was this all just another of his schemes? Had he planned for her to ask for his help in dealing with the Orlesian? Was she falling into another of his traps?
There was no easy answer. If she was wrong, it was the height of paranoia, but if she was right…
Then she had possibly let their doom in the front door…again.
Neither thought gave her much comfort, nor did both have the potential for disaster.
The Viscountess shook her head.
In the end it came down to trust. Daylen had no more love for the Orlesian then she did. Even at the height of their war he never once tried to approach the man for an alliance, not that he would have been able to given Daylen's reliance on blood magic and the elf that practiced it.
No, Neria Surana would have been enough to keep the Orlesian away; his feelings about elves were well known.
Such a man was not the type to make an alliance with someone who trusted one, much less had produced an elf-blooded child.
Then there were her brother's personal feelings about their family, about House Amell as a whole.
In this, she and her brother shared a common ground, both of them respected what their late father had done, and neither wanted to be the one to tear that all down.
Her brother believed in the idea of an Amell dynasty, it was the one goal they both shared. If the Orlesian won, or Knight Commander Meredith destroyed them, there would be nothing left of their proud family's heritage.
Daylen did not want that, and neither did she.
They were both still Amells after all, and for an Amell one thing was certain.
Family came first.
Perhaps that was the reason she still clung to the hope that she and Bethany could mend fences. They had been so close once, almost sisters.
She had to believe that whatever happened, whatever her cousin had done; it had been for the good of the family, the protection of safety of their children.
Without that, what truly did they have? Without that loyalty, they would be destroyed, whether by the Jackal and her Templars or the Baron or his Chevaliers, it did not matter.
House Amell would fall…
…and there would be nothing they could do about it.
Solona crossed her hands in front of her face, deep in thought, almost lost in prayer.
Whatever happened next, it would fall upon her brother and his allies.
She needed to have faith.
She needed to trust him.
She could not forget what he had done, the lives he had taken the world he had tried to destroy, but she could try to forgive, one day she might even find it in her heart to actually do that.
Forgiveness was possible, but she would never forget.
She heard the sound of boots approaching, and she thought she heard her brother's voice.
Solona's eyes narrowed.
Never forget what he is, she thought.
Never…forget.
IOI
"Prick your finger, and let a drop of blood fall on the page."
Daylen smiled as his sister gave him a suspicious look, not that he blamed her.
"Neria enchanted the parchment," he said with a sigh, "It will only reveal what is written on it to a member of the Amell bloodline.
He gave her a sly smile.
"You are welcome to use my blood if you're so worried?"
Solona glared at him.
That look just made his smile widen.
This was one of the few times that the two of them had been left alone in a room together. The guards were just outside the door should his dear sweet sister need them, but at least she understood the value of keeping what was on that parchment between them.
A necessary precaution, with so many strangers in the keep, Templars traders, and servants not directly in House Amell's employ it was hard to keep anything secret. There were too many eyes on them now, and far too many ears.
Discretion was what was called for now…
…Discretion and watchfulness.
He watched as Solona pricked her finger with a small dagger, why she was carrying, he thought he could guess.
She held her finger over the parchment, and let a single drop of blood fall…
Daylen almost chuckled when he heard his sister gasp. He could not see what was happening, but knew what it was.
The letters on the parchment were rearranging themselves…
Now…they would know what his agents had to report.
Solona read through the letter, carefully.
Daylen waited patiently, waited for her to tell her what was inside.
His sister smiled.
It seems that Teyrn had agreed to meet with us," The Viscountess said, "At least he is willing to listen to what we have to say. The nobles who have supported the Baron the most are willing to help, or at least the most influential of them are, their leader Lord Crestmere, he is prepared to support us for…"
Solona's smile fell, her eyes widened in shock.
She pursed her lips, looking worried.
Daylen frowned.
When Solona looked up at her brother she looked angry, more than angry…
She looked furious!
He had never been afraid of his sister before…
The look on her face changed that.
"Is this some kind of joke?!"
"What," he asked.
"What did you promise these people? Was there something in the last letter that I did not see?!"
"You wrote it," he reminded her, "There were no enchantments on that letter I assure you. What's wrong?"
Solona hissed, the flames in the fireplace bloomed, every candle in the room flared.
"What?" He repeated.
Solona almost crumpled up the paper, almost tossed it across the room, or burned it away with her magic. Aqua-colored fire blazed in her eyes.
It was all she could do to get up and take the parchment and drop it in Daylen's hands.
Her brother read the last section.
He pursed his lips at what he had read.
The Viscountess paced in front of him. He was surprised she had not yet called out and had him dragged down to the dungeons.
At least she had managed some self-control. He understood her anger, but…
He also understood what was being asked.
"It could be worse," he sighed, "At least they are willing to deal with you."
Solona glared him.
"Didn't you read what was in there?" she demanded, "Are you actually telling me that this is right?!"
Daylen shrugged.
"Right or wrong does not enter into this sister. This is the way the game is played."
The Viscountess' eyes narrowed.
"Livia," she spat, "Crestmere…he…he wants Livia, my daughter!"
Daylen shifted in his seat.
"This is the way that noble houses make alliances sister," he reminded her, "As I said, this is the way the game is played."
Her brother shrugged.
"The strongest alliances are forged through matrimony."
Solona spun around; she looked every bit the angry lioness people said she could be.
"SHE IS JUST A BABY!" the Viscountess snarled.
Her brother winced.
"It is not like they are ripping her from your arms," he said trying to sooth her. "When she turns thirteen, she will be sent to live the Crestmere family in Ostwick, so she can get to know her future husband."
Solona hissed and began pacing again.
That she should do this to her own child!
It…it was INTOLERABLE!
"We need to offer them something else," she said.
Daylen frowned.
"Lord Crestmere, from what I have heard of the man, isn't the type of person to take something else…not when he has decided it is what he wants."
Solona spun around, she gestured.
Daylen gasped, he found himself surrounded by magic…
…and that magic was constricting, not crushing him exactly, but not letting him breathe either.
He gasped.
Solona looked ready to murder him.
"THIS WAS YOUR DOING!" she spat, "YOU KNEW THIS WOULD HAPPEN!"
Her brother hissed, trying to get his breath back.
"I didn't," he snarled.
"Yet, you are fine with it," the Viscountess growled, "You think this is a good idea."
"I never said that," Daylen said trying to take a breath, "I…"
He gestured.
The magic around him dispelled.
IOI
Solona gasped. She half expected her brother to smite her. He had been so quiet these last few weeks…
She had almost forgotten his Templar training.
Daylen slumped to the ground; he was glaring at her, his eyes like to icy blue voids.
She could see the fury there. The fury that threatened to spill over into madness, but just as quickly as it had reared up…
Her brother sighed.
The madness faded.
He took a deep breath and sat back down.
"Now," he said wiping his mouth, "May we talk sensibly?"
Solona frowned but returned to her desk.
"Thank you," he said.
She nodded. It was not often that she lost her temper; her magic demanded so much control.
Her brother had always seemed to know what buttons to push.
"Okay," he began, "To answer your earlier question, no, I had nothing to do with this. As to what Lord Crestmere wants, that is not surprising."
He gave her a sad smile.
"You know, I always wondered why Father never tried to find a marriage match for you. Technically, you should have been living with your would be husband's family by the time you were thirteen."
He shrugged.
"Father no doubt realized that he couldn't give you away. Too many questions about why he kept you from the city, even after the Threnholds were gone."
Daylen shook his head.
"I should have realized back then that you had to have a secret. It is the only reason why Father would go to such lengths to protect you."
"Why did he not choose a bride for you?" she asked.
Again Daylen smiled.
"Father's health was failing by the time I was that age, remember, even so…I'm not sure he wanted to risk me leaving. Marius in the Circle, you living on the run, if Mother had not written to you, She would have served as Lady Protector, at least until I was old enough to take the throne."
Again Daylen shook his head.
"If she had done that, our lives would have been very different."
Solona lowered her eyes. Thinking of their mother made her realize just how much she had come to love her children. Livia was such a free spirit.
She…she could not imagine sending her away.
Daylen pursed his lips, perhaps realizing what she was thinking.
"If we want this done, it has to be this way," he reminded her.
Solona almost whimpered.
"She is my baby, Daylen."
He gave her a sad look.
"It is not all bad, sister," he said, "Ten years is a long time, much can happen between now and then. Perhaps the Crestmeres will find a new bride for their son, a more advantageous one. In the meantime if we want the plan to go forward, you must say yes."
Daylen rubbed his arm, looking down at the stump where his missing hand once was.
Solona said nothing, still not wanting to accept this.
Her brother frowned.
"The longer we wait, the harder it will be to unseat the Orlesian. Even now he might be drawing up plans to take Ostwick for himself, if he does that…we may never get him out, and the Empire of Orlais will have a beach head to begin a new invasion of the Free Marches.
Daylen's eyes narrowed.
"We can't allow that sister. You know that."
He pinned her with his icy cold gaze.
"We both know that."
Solona winced.
If only there was some other way? If only she could convince Lord Crestmere that he did not want his son marrying her daughter?
She shook her head.
Daylen was not wrong, much could happen in ten years; perhaps by then they could find some way to get Livia out of this…
She sighed.
In the meantime…
The Viscountess shook her head.
"I will send a response in the affirmative," she told her brother.
Daylen gave her a sly smile.
"It is all you can do sister, at least, for now."
Solona's eyes narrowed.
All she could do?
She wasn't sure about that.
The Viscountess looked out the window, even as her fingers closed into angry fists.
She would do this, but she not pleased.
If…if only there were some other way.
She sighed heavily.
She wished Sebastian was here.
For now she had to try to have faith, and focus on what needed to be done.
Sebastian would return soon, and then…
They would decide what was best to do next.
She did not doubt that.
She trusted her husband.
He would know what the right thing to do was.
She was confident of that.
He would know.