"When you surround your enemies, leave them an avenue of escape."
Sun Tzu.
…
…
As a gust of cold wind blew across gray skies, Louise shivered as she followed Napoleon up the steps to the Tristanian palace. Tristania's main clock had just bonged eight times and the conference wouldn't start for another hour or so. Yet despite the early hours, Napoleon had insisted on dragging her out to the palace before any other nobles would show up.
She had worried that perhaps she would not be allowed in due to the loss of her status, but her fears were unfounded. The guard noted Napoleon's presence and without little more than an aside glance at her, wished him good luck as they entered the Main Hall.
The Hall had been renovated in preparation for the conference. Two long plain wooden tables had been placed parallel to each other alongside with a large number of chairs, but that was not the first thing Louise noticed. The throne had been removed from the center of the hall. In its place rested a smaller table along with four chairs. It wasn't difficult for Louise to understand why – that table was for Tristain's Great Families, including the one she had once belonged to. But she still didn't like it. Just because Her Majesty was gone and no one could sit upon for it now didn't mean they have to remove it. It was an ill omen to the conference which would determine the next ruler of Tristain, Louise thought as she shivered again out of foreboding.
"You're cold." Her partner sighed. "Just why did you insist on wearing your old school uniform to this? I told you. The olive uniform looks better on you and you wouldn't be shivering like that."
He just didn't get it, she thought. She wanted to wear something a little more formal to this conference. The olive uniform which Napoleon had procured for and which she had worn throughout the campaign was good clothing, but this uniform indicated her status as a mage and was an indication of pride even though she would never visit the academy again. Why couldn't Napoleon understand that, especially when he wore a dark blue military uniform as a symbol of his status?
Nevertheless, she said nothing. After looking at Louise a moment longer, Napoleon walked towards the two tables and she followed. As they got closer, Louise saw that in front of each chair, a small piece of paper lay on the table. Napoleon reached the table and looked down at the first piece.
"Napoleon Bonaparte." He read. "Of course. Since I am the only commoner here, I am the lowest ranked and the farthest away from where the throne would be. The Five Great Families must sit on the table by the throne, and the rest of the nobility will sit down here."
He looked over towards Louise.
"Well, I don't think there's a chair for you, and your mother would probably be upset if you did sit down. So you'll probably just have to stand up behind me for the conference."
Louise nodded. But then she walked around the table and sat down at the chair across from Napoleon.
"No one is using it right now." She stated before he could say anything. "But Napoleon, there's something I want to know."
"Yes?"
"Who are you loyal to?"
She had to know. The question had bugged her for days upon days at this point, ever since Napoleon had told her that he would have killed her had she asked him to kill Fouquet. He had declared such a shocking and outrageous statement without a hint of hesitation or remorse.
That moment had made it clear to Louise. Absolutely, shockingly clear. Napoleon was not loyal to her. Sure, she had known that. She had known that he would not be addressed as a "familiar" and that he rarely actually listened to her. But there was still a massive difference between not obeying the commands she gave and deciding to kill her.
But if he had merely been disloyal, she could have understood. She remembered when she thought of a familiar as an equivalent to a dog, and disloyal dogs existed. They were no problems. One merely trained into submission through any means necessary. Yet while he was not loyal, he was hardly disloyal either. He may have been willing to kill her if she had given that command, but then he risked his life to save her from her mother, the most powerful mage she knew. He may have hit her when she had broken down afterwards, but then he reminded her that he still believed that she was great.
She had wished for a powerful familiar that day in the academy and she had received one. But Louise had finally been forced to come to the conclusion which she should have realized ever since he had declared in front of her friends who he was what he had been. Even after all this time and all they had been through together, she still didn't completely understand him.
So she asked that question. And Napoleon leaned back in his chair and looked at her.
"I think you know the answer to that question very well, Louise."
She slowly nodded.
"It's to you, isn't it? You're fighting for your honor and your pride. You aren't fighting for me or for Tristain."
"Of course." Napoleon said. "My highest priority is to myself, Louise. There's nothing unusual or wrong about it when a leader does it."
"And where does Tristain fall? Are you telling me that you would be willing to destroy it?"
"You're worried I'll betray Tristain?"
Louise hesitated for a long moment at those words before she spoke
"Yes. You could go work for Gallia and Albion at a moment's notice if you're fighting for yourself, Napoleon. How do I know you won't?"
"I have no reason to." Napoleon responded. "Tristain is for better or worse my new home. No one destroys his own home for any reason.
Though to tell the truth, Louise, I do care for you more than I care for Tristain."
She couldn't help but blush at those words. H-how? How could he mock her like that? It was utterly maddening the way her partner just acted like this all the time! Besides…
"Are you talking about Louise Valliere or are you talking about Louise the Void mage?"
She threw the question down, the one which had continued to worry her. But Napoleon gave a short snort at those words.
"What kind of question is that? I told you that your power is you, and you are your power. There's no distinction between the two things that you asked me to compare."
"Yeah, there is!" Louise shouted. "I want to know if you care about me because of my power, or if you actually care about me."
"And I repeat myself once again. You are your power, Louise. You might as well ask me if I would still care for you if your heart was ripped out of your body. Void magic is just as important of a part of you."
Napoleon's eyes shone with amusement as he gazed at Louise.
"I told you on the day we met that if you summoned me, it was because you wished to be a great person. Yet while you have continued down that path, you still don't understand, Louise. You cannot let yourself be bound by rules and honor if you wish to become truly great, Louise. You should have realized that from your battle against Touraine. If you had fought him without the restrictions or petty limitations which you imposed upon yourself, you could have won. No, you would have won.
I've told you before and I'll tell you again, Louise. Embrace what you can do, and be proud of it. And do not hesitate to destroy those in your way between you and what you fight for."
But now I've answered a question of yours, so I want you to answer a question of mine. Are you going to be all right dealing with your mother?"
Louise nodded.
"You told me she won't try to kill me anymore, especially since I no longer dishonor the Vallieres since I've been kicked out. Anyways-"
But before Louise could speak, the door to the Main Hall opened. Napoleon quickly glanced in its direction before he turned to Louise.
"You should probably get up before the sight of you sitting in a nobleman's chair causes commotion," he said. "We can talk later."
Louise nodded and moved to stand behind him. But as she walked over, she wondered about what her partner had said. It was so different from what she had been taught by her mother. The Rule of Steel demanded obedience and loyalty, but it also required the greatest stoicism and repression of humanity's weaknesses and sins. She knew better than anyone else the mental and physical pain which Karin regularly subjected herself to test her resolve. That was why the Vallieres took great pride in their honor which helped them act nobly and heroically.
But when that honor meant that a mother should try to kill her own daughter, did that make it become noble or heroic? Napoleon clearly disagreed. No, she thought, that was wrong. It wasn't a question for him about whether such an action was noble or heroic. Such questions were utterly irrelevant to him. He had his own pride, of course, but he glorified in the deeds he accomplished for himself.
It was all too confusing for Louise to understand. But as she looked at Napoleon who stared straight ahead, a new question arose in her mind.
"I know what Napoleon fights for. But what is my reason to fight?"
…
The seats at the table began to be filled as the Tristanian nobility arrived. A few of them such as the Marquis of Touraine recognized and acknowledged Napoleon as he waited at his seat, though most of them didn't recognize him and some clearly looked askance at the presence of a commoner. However, not a single person who passed him said a word to him.
In fact, none of the nobles really spoke with each other. There was a rumbling of conversation, but even a child could understand how meager these attempts were. The noblemen would speak to each other about mundane topics like the weather for a few short sentences and then drop off, only to be followed by other nobles who mimicked the same futile attempts to talk. Almost every single member at the table carried worried and haggard expressions on their faces before the conference, while some just stared at the table by the throne as the four seats remained empty. Perhaps the only exception, Napoleon thought, was the man who sat across from him. This nobleman just stared directly at the empty table with a gaze not of confusion or exhaustion, but rather of resentment and anger.
As those last drips of conversation drifted away, the sound of a door opened could be heard behind a curtain near the throne. Cardinal Mazarin strode out, his long confident demeanor a significant contrast to the nobles. He gave a single, low bow before them. As many of the nobles began to stand up to reciprocate the gesture, the Cardinal raised his hand.
"Please, now is not the time." He stated. "I wish to introduce the Five Great Families of Tristain. I hope all of you fellows here may give ALL of them a warm and pleasant welcome. Then we shall pray to Brimir and the conference will start."
Mazarin ducked back behind the curtain. For several moments, nothing could be heard and the rest of the nobles stirred restlessly amongst themselves as the time passed. Napoleon in the meantime stared straight ahead as he seemingly ignored the entire hubbub.
At last, Mazarin walked back to the stage, but he was not alone. To his side, her expression stern and resolute stood…
"I would like to introduce the leader of the first family of Tristain, the Vallieres. Please allow me to welcome the honored Duchess Karin Desiree de la Valliere!"
The rest of the nobles politely clapped as Karin raised a hand in acknowledgment. Even Napoleon followed the example of the other nobles, though his applause lasted notably shorter compared to the others. As the noise finally died down, Karin sat down at the table and closed her eyes. This time, Mazarin did not leave for the back.
"The representative of the second family, the honored Duke of Guldenhorf."
As the nobles applauded once again, the Duke made his way onto the stage. He gave a great, low bow to the crowd of nobles as he sat down behind Karin.
"The representative of the third family, the honored Marshal Gramont, accompanied by his eldest son, Robert de Gramont."
While Karin and Guldenhorf were in their prime of their adult lives, the head of the Gramont family was a very old man. As Robert pushed him along in a wheelchair, Napoleon could tell that he was at least 70 and possibly even older since Tristanian magic easily outclassed the medicines from his world. His right hand, wrinkled and aged, lifted up slightly in appreciation as the nobility clapped. Robert de Gramont pushed him up to the table and then took a step back as the Marshal adjusted himself. Just as Louise stood behind Napoleon, so Robert did as he looked out onto the hall with a stern expression.
"The representative of the fourth family, the honored Duke of Walloon."
While the other three family members had been well-dressed in preparation for the conference, all of them paled in comparison to the next member. The Duke was a tall, well-built man, easily bigger than Guldenhorf or Karin. His large size was somehow accentuated by the bold red uniform he wore as well as the massive necklace holding a cross which hung from his neck. Jewels and rings adorned his fingers as he made his way to the table and his fine well-trimmed beard bristled as he took his place and leaned closer to Gramont.
As the nobility applauded, Napoleon leaned slightly backward towards Louise.
"Well, that's interesting." He murmured. "That's Martin's father. He said that his dad took the Brimir faith extremely seriously, but I guess vows of poverty aren't part of your religion."
Louise said nothing to his jibe and Napoleon turned his head around. She was looking at the stage with trepidation, but he could see that it wasn't at her mother. Her eyes were focused on the curtain, where the last family was set to come out from momentarily.
"Louise, do you know the fifth family?"
"Huh?"
His question seemed to snap her out of a trance.
"I said, do you know the-"
"The representative of the fifth family, the Duke of Wardes."
There was no applause, as another old man hobbled onto the stage. Marshal Gramont looked like a spring chicken compared to this person. His bald head and his entire face was gray and wrinkled and the cheeks under his eyes drooped and sagged; their appearance made his white beady eyes shine as they stared at the silent nobility. Even his clothing served to accentuate his age, as its plain colors of dark brown and green served as a shoddy contrast to the fancy and brightly-colored clothing of the other great families.
"What is he doing here?" One nobleman yelled. "How can we trust a traitor's father at a place like this?"
No one cheered or reprimanded the heckler. The only sound that broke the uncomfortable silence within the hall was the tap of the large wooden cane that the old man held in his right hand as he made his way to the table. As he finally took his seat and rested his arm on the table, a single white rat dashed out of his robes and onto the table.
"How dare you, you yellow-bellied cur!" he snarled. "I am the Duke of Wardes. I was fighting dragons and trolls before you were born. I've forgotten more about magic than a half-assed noble like you would learn in fifty lifetimes. So the next time you waggle your tongue about things which you know nothing about, I'll slice it in half and feed it to Lady here! And that includes talking about my son, may Brimir damn him to hell!"
It wasn't just the words. Spittle flecked from the old man's tongue as he snarled at the nobleman in his anger. The nobleman looked away from the Duke of Wardes and towards the table in his surprise.
"That's right, you little pup." Wardes hissed. "Cower away. For Brimir's sake, you cried that I shouldn't be here? You should get out, you pathetic pile of miserable-"
"Wardes, please!"
The Duke looked to his right as Cardinal Mazarin made his way towards him.
"We have a conference here for all of the nobility. Please, forgive him for Brimir's sake."
Wardes stared back at the Mazarin for a few moments and then gave a short chuckle. Napoleon saw the gaps within his teeth as he did so.
"Kahahahahaha. All right, all right, Mazarin. No need for you to panic. Now, let's get the prayers sorted out, shall we?"
…
…
The Tristanian palace was easy to observe from the roof of Tiffania's new orphanage, Fouquet observed. It's not like there was any reason to really look at it. If her master ended up blowing up the castle, she would likely hear the commotion anyways.
Still, everything seemed to be working out well, with the exception of Jessica. Napoleon had interrogated her for what seemed like hours when she had explained what she had done to Louise as well as the news about her cousin. When Fouquet had contacted Scarron about the possibility of work, she hadn't expected things would become that bad, but that misunderstanding had been cleared up. She had told Scarron that he wouldn't be able to rely on Louise on a daily basis, but the innkeeper had nodded and flexed some more muscles to show his understanding. Louise had been a good worker, he claimed, and he would be happy to see her back any time.
But even ignoring what had happened there, Fouquet had plenty to worry about. Louise may have saved her from certain death, but now her concerns lay about how to protect her as well as the fact that she knew she would have to deal with Wardes and Sheffield eventually. And with her master's loss of status, these problems just became all the more important.
Fortunately, she wasn't the only one protecting Louise. Her familiar was peculiar, but he was devoted to her. Fouquet could tell that he did care about Louise in her own way. Last night, he had talked with her after Louise had fallen asleep in the tent and had made certain arrangements. She would check on that later, probably when the sun rose higher in the sky.
Creak.
Fouquet's hand instinctively darted to her wand even though she knew what the sound was. She had scaled the walls of the orphanage to reach the roof in order to avoid unnecessary attention, but there was a door encased into the ground which served as a means of access for an ordinary person. As Fouquet watched, a young boy with red hair pushed up the door and rolled onto the ground as he clenched a large stick. As he slowly stood up, he looked directly at her for a few seconds. But before Fouquet could wonder to do, he gave a friendly smile.
"You're the nice lady who was with Big Sis Tiffania, right?"
As she nodded, she noted that she recognized the kid. He had been at Tiffania's orphanage and she remembered his loud mouth above all.
"Your name was Gim, right? What are you doing up here?"
"I wanted to explore." the child said. "I don't like this new place. It's too dirty and there are no woods or lakes to play in."
Fouquet stowed the wand back in her cloak and then tossed something at the boy. He instinctively caught it and looked at a small white ball.
"It's candy, Gim. Mind if I ask you something?"
The boy instantly popped it into his mouth. A happy smile of delight popped into his face as he sucked on the hard treat.
"So, how is Tiffania doing these days?"
"Huh?" Gim asked. "I saw you here yesterday, miss. You were in the orphanage for a long time yesterday and you talked with Big Sis. Couldn't you have asked her then?"
"That's true." Fouquet said. "Big Sis seems happy. She worries about you children all the time, but she told me that she's doing fine and you're being fed and cared for. In fact, I think she mentioned you."
"Really?"
"Yeah. Weren't you the kid who ran outside at two for the morning screaming that you were going to hunt down bandits?"
The boy blushed in embarrassment and waved his stick around.
"It's true!" He said. "There are bandits everywhere, and they'll threaten Big Sis. I want to protect them. That'll be my first step to becoming a great warrior!"
"I see, I see. But I want to hear what you think about Tiffania. How is she doing these days?
The boy thought as he sat down and sucked on the candy for a while. In the meantime, Fouquet clambered up on a small wall which surrounded the roof.
"Big Sis is happy with us. She plays with us and she's still Big Sis. But the other ladies don't talk to her a whole lot. They pointed at her ears a lot when we arrived, but I don't get why. Her ears are really pretty, right?"
Fouquet twitched at what he had said.
"Yes. Yes they are. But are they mean to her?"
The boy leapt up to that question.
"Of course they're not!" Gim nodded. "Those ladies will never be mean to Big Sis. If they do, then I'll fight them as a Hero of Justice and make them apologize. Then me and my friends will get together and make them play with Big Sis and they'll all eat cakes and honey! No one will harm Big Sis, not as long as I have this!"
He waved the stick around haphazardly and began to dash around the roof.
"I found this from the woods back where I used to live, and kept it ever since! It's just a stick, but lady, just you watch! Someday I'll make a legendary sword that will defeat evil with it!"
He puffed up with pride as he gazed upon the stick and imagined the great deeds he knew he would accomplish, but then realized that he had swallowed the candy as he had ran around the roof.
"Hey, Big Sis," The boy cried as he turned around. "Do you have any more candy-"
There was no one on the roof. The boy blinked in confusion at the vanished thief.
…
"Amen."
The final prayers to Brimir concluded and the nobles opened their eyes. Mazarin stood in front of the table holding the five families and opened his eyes.
"I do not intend to personally discuss my own thoughts on who should take the throne." He said. "I should like to leave it to you nobles and only intervene when necessary. Still, perhaps I could start things off by suggesting-"
"Cardinal Mazarin. There is nothing to discuss. I, Karin de la Valliere, am the rightful ruler of Tristain."
The Duchess stood up and her hands hit the table as she continued to statement.
"My husband is the brother to Her Majesty's father, so we possess the proper bloodline which no other noble family here owns. We possess the appropriate wealth, power and prestige. I am not here to negotiate. I am here to declare that the throne belongs to my husband and me."
The nobles murmured amongst themselves at the strength of Karin's declaration, but then one of them stood up from the lower table.
"If you claim your bloodline through your husband, Duchess Valliere, then why is he not here?"
"The Duke has an estate to manage." Karin said. "He wished to return home to manage it. But I can assure you that I can speak for him and the Vallieres at this conference."
Guldenhorf snorted in response and Karin looked over at him.
"Would you care to say something, Guldenhorf?"
"Nothing much, nothing much." He responded. "But doesn't that say something about your husband's desire to lead that he's perfectly willing to let you handle the responsibility?"
"I understand your ears may be plugged with your ego, Guldenhorf, but I have already stated that my husband and I would rule jointly and that I can speak for the family. I believe that it is important to get a decision down fast so that we can deal with other pressing matters and I am the most credible candidate out there."
The nobleman who sat across from Napoleon then stood up.
"Credible?" He cried. "Of course, you're credible from that angle. You're simply discussing all of the qualifications which make you the best queen! But you are not discussing all of the important angles!"
"And what are these important angles, Count Noyon?" Karin scornfully asked. "Revenge for your son?"
"No. I ask how we know that we can trust you!" He said. "True, the Vallieres possess wealth and power, but I consider that a problem! I know you can't comprehend this with your Rule of Steel which does not allow for human feelings, but we nobles have rights! We need to have assurances that you won't just trample on what we own and when you are the Queen of Tristain."
"I've already shown that I treat those who serve me well" Karin stated. "I can confidently say that the commoners love me more than they love Guldenhorf, for example."
"I don't care about Guldenhorf or commoners, I care about you! And there's a huge difference between you and Guldenhorf anyways. If your lands are added to the lands which belong to the crown, the Valliere family would own over half of Tristain! You would be able to trample over all of us if we united against some tyranny you committed and I can't accept that."
"Enough!"
Karin had opened her mouth to respond, but then Marshal Gramont abruptly stepped in.
"Why are you stressing about such matters, Noyon? It does not matter whether Karin may have the potential to become a tyrant. When those matters occur, then we may deal with it. This conference is to discuss who will be the next ruler of this country, above all. And the bloodline means that Karin is a credible candidate."
"I am not denying that, I'm simply pointing out that she threatens us all if she was to rule Tristain! Including you, Gramont!"
Gramont began to chuckle at those words, but instead he began to cough loudly. As the crowd watched, he continued to hack away at his throat for some time. Even as he did so, Robert did nothing as the group of nobles waited for his father to finish clearing his throat.
"Then who is a credible candidate to rule, Noyon? Because the fact is that the next monarch will come from one of us five families. This is something which I think you cannot deny."
He looked over to his right, towards Wardes. The old man did not look back at Gramont. He seemingly paid more attention to Lady than to the conference as he watched it scurry about the table.
"The Duke of Wardes currently lacks an heir and no one will trust him with the throne after what his son did. I do not desire the throne and personally would rather give it to the Vallieres. The Gramonts and the Vallieres have been allies for generations. Furthermore, we are a family who follows the law, and the fact that the Valliere Duke currently possesses the proper bloodline is good enough for me.
So, Duke Walloon, Duke Guldenhorf. Do either of you wish to claim the throne?"
The former shook his head.
"I must decline. I do not possess a case for the throne which is better than Karin's. Furthermore, I have received no sign from Brimir that I should take the throne, so therefore I do not desire it. I will only do what he commands me to do."
Gramont nodded and then looked at Guldenhorf.
"Guldenhorf. What do you say?"
The duke shrugged his shoulders and shook his head before he stood up.
"I say that you are once again attempting to frame the issue in your own way, Gramont. But let me ask you a question. Is no king a worse alternative than a bad king?"
"That is ridiculous!" The Marshal spat. "To have no king is the worst thing of all! And why don't you answer my question first?"
"I don't need to. The fact is that despite his puny peerage, Noyon is correct. Suppose we make Karin the Queen. What happens if she decides with all of her power that she would destroy us all? If you combine the power of the Valliere estate and the royal lands she would receive, she could do it even if we all united against her! I fear a potential tyrant far more than I fear a country with no king!"
The crowd murmured amongst themselves at those words. Guldenhorf smiled at the commotion he had caused, before another voice from the High table spoke up.
"So why don't you spell it out clearly, Guldenhorf?"
Karin did not bother to stand up. Even as she gazed at Guldenhorf with scorn, she maintained an erect and proper posture on her chair.
"You think I will become a tyrant if I take the throne?"
"It's not a matter of 'will you'" Guldenhorf responded as he turned to her. "We simply have to make sure that the possibility of you becoming a tyrant is not merely dependent on your whims or moods or-"
"Did you just say 'whims', Guldenhorf? Are you telling me that I, Karin Desiree de la Tristain, one who follows the ideal of the Rule of Steel, will make my decisions through whims? Why don't you call me a tyrant to my face, you sniveling coward!"
It was an impressive sight. Karin's body language did not change in the slightest nor did she still look at Guldenhorf. But everyone in the hall could feel her anger both in her voice and in the very air they breathed. Nevertheless, Guldenhorf did not flinch in the slightest. He stood up from his chair and pointed his finger at Karin.
"Behold, my fellow nobles! THIS is your queen. This would be your future ruler. Someone who lets her rage blind her when her honor is insulted. That is who you would let control over half of Tristain territory and threaten to dominate all of us if she was so inclined.
Are you telling me that that is what you desire?"
About half of the other nobles began to clap towards Guldenhorf's statement, but the rest did nothing. One of them, a well-fed man, stood up.
"And you still haven't provided an alternative, Guldenhorf! What do you propose? Because your proposal of no king at all is ludicrous! The people will never support it! I don't care what you state about the viability of Karin being the Queen, as long as there is no alternative, she should be the ruler. And even if you have concerns about the viability of her rule, that isn't relevant to us, because her husband possesses the blood. That is all that matters!"
"Oh, be quiet, Grandple." Guldenhorf snarled. "As I said, no king is better than a bad king. Tristain may have had idiot rulers and vicious rulers. But we have been blessed not to have a vicious idiot for a ruler."
"What did you call Karin?" Gramont shouted.
As the conference hall degenerated into a shouting match, Mazarin stood up and waved his hands to calm the angry nobles down. But it was hopeless. All of the nobles at the High Table with the exception of Wardes stood up and began to argue with each other, and Wardes seemed content to simply watch his rat. In the meantime, the rest of the nobles also began to argue.
"What about an assurance?"
A loud voice broke through the din, one which few people recognized. Guldenhorf looked around in confusion and so did Marshal Gramont. But Karin did not. She looked directly at the person who spoke, the person who had challenged her in the graveyard. As Napoleon stood up from his table, he looked directly at the nobles at the High Table.
"How about this?" He suggested. "Karin becomes the queen, and in exchange she swears before she takes the crown to enact certain reforms to limit her power and prevent a potential tyranny."
Everyone took a long, slow, look at Bonaparte and his suggestion. At last, Guldenhorf spoke up.
"What sort of reforms?"
"How should I know?" Napoleon said as he shrugged his shoulders. "I'm just a commoner. Surely you cannot expect me to be able to manage your affairs. I'm sure you could figure something like that out."
For a few moments, no one spoke. But then Touraine shrugged his shoulder.
"That sounds like a good plan, makes everyone happy. Perhaps Karin could break up, say, half of her estate and distribute it to us or even the commoners? Or she could swear not to enact any laws which threaten us for two years, so we could have time to adjust to the new regime? I'm just throwing out suggestions."
A murmur of approval ran through the crowd as they discussed it. Guldenhorf looked visibly displeased, but after looking at the rest of the crowd, he leaned over and whispered to Gramont who sat to his right. After he finished, he stood up.
"I believe that is a sound plan. Perhaps we could adjourn for a short break and then we could get together to craft it? How would that work?"
"No."
Two voices spoke up. And at that moment, Karin stood up from her chair.
"I will not accept a compromise. I will not accept anything which would impinge on the authority of the royal family. Would you have demanded this from Princess Henrietta if she had the amount of lands, Guldenhorf? No, you wouldn't have. Because you thought you could manipulate her. But now that you're dealing with someone who possesses the moral integrity and the strength to resist you, you think you can change the rules to weaken me?
Follow the Rule of Steel for a change, Guldenhorf, and you might understand why I will not accept this."
"I agree with Karin's sentiments." Gramont stated. "I do not desire to change the law unless it is absolutely necessary. And this is not the time. Guldenhorf, I tell you, Karin will not become a tyrant."
"And you have no way to assure that!" one nobleman yelled. "That is the key thing, knowing rather than hoping that our lands or power will remain secure. I want an assurance! If Karin can't accept that, she has no right to rule!"
"Her bloodline determines it!" Gramont shouted. "Her family has the blood of the royal family flowing through their veins, blood which has been blessed by Brimir! And now you want to enact further binds on it?"
"I must agree." Walloon said. "The Vallieres has been chosen by Brimir. There is no need for an assurance."
"You're just saying that because you owe her money, Walloon!" another nobleman yelled.
Walloon's face turned a bright shade of red and he sputtered for several seconds. But before he could retaliate, Karin stood up.
"I've had enough of discussion over compromises or assurances. The facts are these. Our country must select a new ruler as rapidly as possible. I am the only credible candidate for the throne, as not even the Duke of Guldenhorf has chosen to name himself as one. And I will not accept any assurances, negotiations, or anything like that. Doing that in the aftermath of Henrietta's death disrespects her name and it dishonors the name of the Valliere. Perhaps there can be discussions after I become the Queen of Tristain, but I will not accept prerogatives before I take the throne!"
"Don't you get it? We can't trust you!" Guldenhorf shouted. "An assurance after you take the throne is worthless! You probably wouldn't listen to us anyways afterwards and would just destroy everything we nobles have worked for!"
"It is not a matter of personal favors. It is a matter of the Law." Karin flatly stated. "When there is a new ruler to Tristain, then we can discuss changes. I will not discuss such a thing beforehand."
She then left the table and began to walk to the door at the back. Mazarin ran up to her.
"Please, Karin, you should stay. For the sake of all of us."
"I am sorry, Cardinal." Karin said. "I have been insulted and ridiculed despite the fact that I am the only one with a realistic claim to the throne. I have had enough for today."
She then looked out at the crowd and raised her voice.
"I am leaving for the day. If you wish to acknowledge me as the ruler of Tristain, come to my room in the High Quarter. Those who don't come will not be my friends when I am the ruler of this country."
Without any further words, she left the room. The Hall remained in silence as they thought about her words. But then Marshall Gramont turned and waved his hand to Robert, who walked up and grasped his chair.
"I must agree with the Duchess. I shall be heading over there to give her my fealty." He rasped. "I advise all of you to do the same as soon as possible."
"Are you serious, Gramont?" Guldenhorf shouted. "She refuses to negotiate with us. She refuses to treat us as equals at all. She acts like she's already the ruler of Tristain of this country and this greed and arrogance is what you support? If you're that loyal to the Vallieres, why don't you hand your estate over to them already?"
"Greed? Arrogance? It's your arrogance that's causing you to act like this, Guldenhorf! Karin's right. If Henrietta was alive, you wouldn't be doing this. Quit thinking about yourself and start thinking about the good of the country."
"And learn that the good of the nobility IS the good of the country, Gramont!"
The old man said nothing in response but simply looked behind him and nodded. Without a word, Robert wheeled him out of the room. As Gramont left, Walloon stood up.
"I believe in Karin as our new ruler. May Brimir's blessings go with her."
As he followed Gramont out of the exit, the rest of the nobles began to discuss amongst themselves what they were to do.
"What are we supposed to do?" Asked one. "Karin has the Walloons and the Gramonts behind her. Isn't that enough? Shouldn't we just accept her as our new Queen?"
"That's wrong!" Noyon said as he shouted. "That's not what it's supposed to be like. We can't accept this"
"Oh, be quiet, Noyon. You're just bitter because she killed your crazy son. I've had it. I'm going to support her."
As one nobleman began to stride out of the hall, another stood up after him. And then another, and then another. A crowd of nobleman began to make their way out of the hall as their minds acquiesced to their new ruler.
But then a harsh, ancient voice cackled over the room.
"Kahahahahaha! Oh, are the nobility of this generation so young and foolish that they would agree to a couple of shouted demands like dogs?"
The nobleman turned around and looked up at the stage from which the voice had come from. Hobbling on his cane, the Duke of Wardes slowly descended down the stairs with a devilish grin on his face.
"What are you talking about, Wardes?" one nobleman cried. "Are you saying that you do not support Karin taking the throne? For Brimir's sake, I'm surprised that you even know what's going on since you kept watching that foul beast of yours."
"I would take care not to insult Lady." The old man said. "She is far more powerful than you think she is, and it's not exactly a surprise to say that she's smarter than most of you."
"Why you-"
"And about your second question. What does that matter?" Wardes interrupted as he finally reached the lower table. "None of you trust me because of my son. If I said I opposed Karin taking the throne, over half of you would instantly go support her.
But let me ask you young children a question. Many of you seem to think that Karin should become Queen. But what does it mean to be one?"
"What are you talking? It means she is the ruler and runs this country. Why are you asking such a silly question?"
The old man laughed again, and both of his hands grasped the handle of his wooden cane as it repeatedly hit the floor.
"Kahahahahaha. Oh, you have been taught well by your private tutors, you little dogs. But no, that is not the answer. A Queen does not run a country. That fool Cromwell ran Albion when we defeated him, but none of you called him a King. A King or Queen is someone who LEADS the country and respects your wishes.
Karin has done no such thing. She does not even look upon you as people to negotiate with, and that will be true when she is a queen thanks to her Rule of Steel. And you are nobles. She considers herself far superior to you and refuses to even recognize your right to petition. And you sniveling worms are willing to let her rule?"
The crowd of nobles murmured amongst themselves, but then Grandple gave a loud grunt.
"I'm not listening to your lies, Wardes. You may be old, but you are not wise! Karin will be. She has the blood of the Vallieres and is married to the Royal Family. She helped me remove Osmond after he let my son become a vegetable when Fouquet attacked. That's more than you ever did!"
Without any further words, Grandple pushed the doors open and stormed off. But while the other nobles looked longingly in his direction, none of them took the step to leave.
"That's true." Wardes mused. "Valliere is respected by many of you. And you do not respect me.
But let me ask you a question. If I were to become King, and asked one of you to lick my shoes, all of you would refuse. Your pride as a nobleman meant that none of you would ever do such a thing.
Can you honestly say that would remain the same if Karin became Queen? With the power that backed her up, as well as her immense strength?"
More silence followed that question as the nobles pondered it amongst themselves. But then they saw Guldenhorf walk toward the crowd of nobles which had assembled by the door.
"So what are you proposing then, Wardes?" He asked. "Shall we ask to negotiate with Karin again? You know her as well as I do. She will not come back to the negotiating table. She has declared so, and Karin keeps her promises."
"My, my, my." Wardes chuckled. "Isn't it obvious, Guldenhorf? I thought you of all nobles would have figured it out by now. If Karin won't come back to the negotiating table…
Then make her do so. With force, if necessary."
A stunned silence descended over the crowd at Wardes's implications.
"Are you suggesting war? Now? So soon after our fight with Albion?" whispered one nobleman.
Wardes merely shrugged.
"We fight to protect our country and honor, do we not? How is the exhaustion of this country relevant under those circumstances, then?"
Without listening for a response, the old man turned around and began to move away from the door.
"Karin said that she would be staying in the High Quarter. I, on the other hand, will be resting in my villa at the outskirts of town. I know you all know where it is.
If you are interested in licking the boots of a tyrant, then so be it. Go to the High Quarter. If you are interested in talking with me some more about the actual future of this glorious country, then please come to my home. I shall serve you with the best hospitality."
As he walked away, the nobles began to discuss amongst themselves. Even Guldenhorf looked nonplussed as he glanced between Wardes and the nobles. Eventually, he settled for the nobles, and his harsh, rough voice could be heard among the jabbering crowd.
Wardes in the meantime continued to hobble away before he stopped in front of the table and Napoleon. His white eyes flickered on Louise for a moment before they settled on the Emperor, who in turn moved his eyes towards the old man. The two slowly smiled at each other, though Louise could feel the danger that radiated from their presence.
"Very impressive, old man." Napoleon said. "You started talking before I could by half a second. Though I do not desire to imitate that laugh of yours."
"Kahahahahaha." Wheezed Wardes. "Well met, General Napoleon Bonaparte. I have heard about your exploits as well as the fact that you would be attending this conference. Still, Mazarin gave quite the impressive speech about you at the parade."
"That is true. I am assuming that you expect me to be at your villa tonight?"
"You were just analyzing the situation throughout this conference, General." Wardes observed. "I do hope that when you are at my humble home tonight, that you will be much more active."
Napoleon gave a small nod to his words. Wardes returned the gesture but then hobbled closer to Louise.
"Hello, Louise." He said. "I hope you remember me? It was a long time ago when you played in the garden with dear Jacques."
The old man gave a kindly, grandfatherly smile, but Louise only paled in his presence. She noticeably looked away from Wardes as she responded.
"Y-yes, y-yes sir. I do remember you as well. I did not see you often in those visits, however. You were most frequently in the study and so I talked with your wife and…"
"My son, Louise. Jacques will always be my son, regardless of what I tell the other nobles."
Wardes said nothing, but he continued to stand in front of Louise. She fidgeted her fingers together, and anyone there could easily tell that at that particular moment, she just wanted to disappear.
"A-are you angry?" She finally asked.
"Angry?" Wardes replied, the smile never leaving his face. "About what?"
"W-well, I was his fiancé. Your son's fiancé. But then he did, well….that… and I'm wondering if you might be mad at me. Perhaps I could have stopped him if I talked to him or something or…"
Louise stopped abruptly in embarrassment as her words tumbled over themselves. But Wardes said nothing. He shook his head and gave a deep sigh.
"I'm sorry, Louise. I don't think you understand."
Wardes's hands gripped the cane as he leaned a little further towards the girl.
"I…hate the Vallieres. I hate every last one of them. We were allies for generations, the Wardes and the Vallieres. You should have learned that, right? We stood by and watched that family rise to greatness, while we were left with the scraps. But we did not complain. I did not complain as the patriarch of the family. I trusted in their protection and of the benefits of our partnership. And that partnership was going to culminate between the marriage between you and Jacques as our families united.
But when Jacques betrayed us, betrayed me and everyone jumped on the name of the Wardes and splattered it in the mud, what did your mother do, Louise? She did nothing. It is true that she never slandered me. But your mother said that our family was strong enough and could take of such silly attacks and did nothing to defend our reputation, our names! And this is from the woman who tried to kill you over her name!"
Wardes's right hand slowly lifted up from his cane and slowly extended towards Louise.
"And I don't trust her, you know? Wardes was my son. My only son. He had everything. I still don't understand why he betrayed Tristain. As far as I'm concerned, the Vallieres are to blame for the marriage. You are to blame. Perhaps you said something that wounded his heart or filled him with jealousy?"
"No, that is not true!" Louise cried. "I'm sorry, Duke, but I have not met your son in years. I didn't do anything."
"You have no way to prove you didn't."
Louise gulped at those words and Wardes leaned a little more forward.
"I don't want to rule, Louise." He hissed. "I am too old, and I have no heir. But I want retribution and justice. Karin may be a good queen, but I don't care. I want revenge. I want to kill every single Valliere and go up to the Duchess and watch her in despair. And I will let her know that I, Gilford Wardes, will have my revenge."
He raised his hand up to Louise's cheek, but she swatted it away with her left hand. Her right hand grabbed her wand and pointed it at Wardes. The rest of the nobles ignored the scene as they discussed among one another, but Napoleon watched next to them, his expression that of detached amusement even as his left hand dangled near his saber. Louise and Wardes stood like that for some moments, neither moving an inch.
"You have good spirit and a strong will." Wardes finally said. "You will be a factor in the years to come, little Louise. But don't underestimate me. Your Void Explosions are powerful, but they will not kill me."
Lady popped out from his neck as he said those words. But then the old man once again gave a grandfatherly smile.
"Besides, you have nothing to worry about. Even if you were my son's fiancé, you are no longer a Valliere. I have no quarrel with you."
"That doesn't matter." Louise said.
"Ah?"
As the old man looked at Louise, Louise stared right back at him. Her eyes blazed with a quiet fury as she continued to hold her wand.
"I'm no longer a Valliere. I'm not sure what I think about most of them at this point. I don't know whether I hate mother, or love her. I can't tell at this point.
But I DO know this. You will not touch Cattleya. You will leave her out of any plans for revenge you have, do you understand me?"
Wardes said nothing. He continued to gaze at Louise, but then his eyes flitted back toward the crowd of nobles who continued to talk by the door. It had grown smaller during the process, while some had left, whether to pledge their loyalty to Karin or otherwise.
"We shall see." He finally said. "We can discuss this later when you come tonight. I look forward to a good conversation."
He tapped his cane on the floor and Lady slid back down his neck. Then with a final nod of acknowledgment, he hobbled away from Napoleon and Louise.
…
"I can't believe her."
Eleanor huffed as she walked along the hallways of the castle. Her right hand clenched her wand and her left a set of keys. All the same, she could conceal the irritation on her face. Jerome had been reluctant to provide her the set of keys necessary to enter the library, but she had insisted and he had finally complied. She would deal with it at last and prove herself. She was the best researcher in Tristain, the one who could read magical artifact after magical artifact. There was no way she could not fail to help Siesta. Sure, she had failed to help Siesta, but the more she thought about it, the more and more she found it ridiculous. She could only read due to some special blood she possessed? Ha!
She walked along the hallways but as she walked by the entrance she stopped and looked at the doorway.
"Cattleya." She asked. "What are you doing here? Shouldn't you be in bed?"
Eleanor's younger sister raised her hand to her mouth and coughed for a moment.
"I'm feeling a little stronger now." She said. "Besides, I wanted to say goodbye."
"Goodbye?"
The pink-haired girl shook her head and gave a soft smile.
"Oh dear, Eleanor. Didn't you hear? Siesta's siblings are going away."
"Huh." Eleanor said. "So they're heading down to the nearby village?"
"No. Siesta told me that she found a family member in Tristania who was willing to look after them and they'll head over there. She just sent them off."
Eleanor nodded. For a moment, she thought about asking Cattleya where Siesta had gone so that the maid could see how she could help her out, but she changed her mind. She guarded those books preciously, and would probably freak out somehow if she told Siesta that she was going in that library.
"They were nice kids." She mused. "Very energetic."
"That's true." Cattleya responded. "I wonder how well they'll do in a city like Tristania. They lived in the village of Tarbes their whole life before they came here, and it's such a difference between a peasant village and a city.
Still, they have their sister's love, so I'm sure they'll be fine. She spent a lot of time fussing over them as they left and hugged them repeatedly."
"How are they going to get there anyways? Tristania is a long way. You can't have a couple kids walk there."
"I asked her that. Siesta told me that a friend got a wagon for her. It was a really big wagon, but she put a lot of stuff in it. I took a look inside. It was filled with just all sorts of furniture and other tools which the peasants in the village gave to her."
"Yeah." Eleanor softly said. "It's nice to have siblings."
Cattleya stared at Eleanor for a moment as the conversation quieted down and then giggled.
"You're thinking about her, aren't you?" she said.
"Who? Siesta?"
"No, silly." Cattleya responded. "Our sister."
Eleanor stiffened for a moment at those words.
"We don't have another sister, Cattleya."
"Oh stop it." The pink-haired girl said. "Of course we do. She's still our sister, and I don't care what mother says."
"What are you talking? She's our mother. She and Father run this family. We can't disobey her!"
"Does that include the fact that she keeps telling you to quit your magical research and get married?" Cattleya teased.
Eleanor flushed at those words before she looked away.
"That is… over the line, Cattleya. And that's well, different."
"Oh, come on. No, it's not."
"Yes it is." Eleanor snapped. "And this conversation is over."
"But-"
"Over!"
With those words, she hurriedly walked out of the hall. Cattleya watched her sister leave and then called out after her.
"You can't deny the truth, Eleanor! I know it hurts, I know you have to choose! We have to choose! But don't deny your own sister!"
Eleanor covered her hands over her ears as she walked back down the hall. She was annoyed now. Really annoyed. She just needed to get to the library and read some books and think. That was what was important now.
After a time frame that felt far too long, she finally arrived. No one was in the hallway and she quickly grasped the door. Confirming that it was locked, she grasped the library key and fit it in the lock before she swung it open.
The lights were off, but sunlight streamed into the room. With a small feeling of triumph at finally accessing this room, Eleanor walked inside and-
"What?"
-looked in the room.
"What? Wait, is this a mistake? I'm in the library, right?"
She looked at the scene in front of her in confusion.
"What's going on? What happened here? And what is-"
She looked down at a table. A small notebook lay on it. And beside it…
"Oh, dear Brimir."
That was why. Everything made sense. Siesta guarded this room jealously for a reason.
"But…how did she do this? There's no way, there's no way…"
Her voice trailed off and her eyes widened.
"That's how. She…impossible. But…"
Eleanor stopped again. But as she pondered, as she thought, she looked up as she felt a presence in the room.
"Now, this was certainly a surprise." Siesta lilted as she walked in the library. "I thought you would go to Jerome eventually, Eleanor. I just didn't think it would be this fast."
The blonde-haired girl whipped around towards Siesta and pointed her wand directly at her. Siesta stopped in response, though she continued to smile as she looked back at Eleanor. The scar on her left cheek seemed to gleam in the darkened room.
"Not that it makes a difference anyways, Eleanor. You're too late. I'm already finished. Not you, not your mother, not Napoleon, and not his master. Though honestly, I guess now you do become a serious problem if you start talking about, well…"
She shrugged and uplifted her empty hands towards the library. In the meantime, Eleanor assessed the situation. She was a triangle mage. She had her wand. And about fifteen feet separated her from Siesta. She was dealing with a commoner, a maid, and one who likely had never fought in her life. Theoretically, there was nothing to be frightened of. She could blast Siesta to ashes before she reached her.
But she knew Siesta knew that too. Even so, Siesta simply smiled as she didn't move. And so the question burrowed itself in Eleanor's brain as her wand arm shook.
Why is she so confident and why…
Why am I so terrified now?
And as the thought entered her brain and paralyzed her, Siesta moved one arm behind her back.