QUEEN OF RUIN
She did not hide the evidence.
"By the Founder," her physician breathed as he gently tilted her chin up for a better look at the raw, fresh wound ripped across her jugular. His green eye was large behind his monocle even narrowed as it was. His grey, bushy beard twitched occasionally as he fought to control his mouth. "It is remarkable that you survived the night with this."
"I am, at best, mediocre with the healing arts, but most of the spores were cleansed through your efforts," she conceded. Were she not what she was, the wound would have killed her. Had her contract been badly written, she would have bled out within minutes. But as it was, her anchor was the last demon that would kill her. As with all demons, it knew where the fine line lay. It demanded pain as a Price, not blood. "I will not pretend it looks pretty, but it is as you said, I am resilient."
His gaze flickered up to meet her eyes, abashed at his earlier words spoken while she vomited out the poison. "Ah, well, we shall not have you leaving my care with scars now, your..."
"Imperial majesty," Marie said impishly from where she was setting what looked like breakfast on the side table. Renia made sure to flash the girl a small, amused smile that the servant returned. No matter her crown, she always had more in common with the common folk and she had never allowed herself to forget it. Small gestures, cheap gestures, went far with the underprivileged and smiles cost nothing.
If only she knew nobility half as well.
She was sure the food smelled lovely and it almost did, but she could never eat just after paying a Price. Perhaps, she just had a delicate constitution.
"Imperial…" the man murmured thoughtfully. There was a cold sting as he gently peeled the scabbing wound apart, caressing the injured skin with warm, pure water. He mumbled under his breath as he worked, very little of it audible, but eventually he increased his volume.
"Spores, you said. You know the means of your affliction?"
"Venatus Ignos spores." She gained nothing by concealing this, but gained everything by being cautious with what she revealed. "Symptoms include fever, muscular spasms, dizziness and, of course, excessive bleeding both internally and externally."
The last word was the lie.
"And reduced effectiveness of magic." He blurted out, aghast.
"Yes." She hummed as he finished and ran a contemplative finger over the line where the tear used to be. "It was ingested intentionally."
"Intentionally?"
She met his eyes evenly.
"Not by my intention," she said quietly. She did not allow herself to dwell on it, shoving the emotion away before it could fully form. It would only distract her.
His beard bristled. "Well, believe me when I say, you are safe here, your imperial majesty."
"So it seems." She did not believe it. Sorceresses cannot afford to be careless. Even in the height of power, she would never be safe. She must remember this. "And, I sincerely apologize, but I seem to have missed your name, sir."
"Ah! Yes, yes, Sebastien Durand, Spell Theory and applied Water manipulation professor here at The Magical Academy of Tristain," he said with a certain pomp and flair. "At your disposal, of course."
No, not at hers. The Headmaster's. She would never understand the purpose of such banal falsehoods.
"Renia Maxwell Ruten of Rutenia," she introduced herself for the second time. It had been years, decades even, since the last occasion for her own introduction and she found herself quite out of practice. The name still didn't feel right. "I trust you are to be my primary physician?" At his nod, she allowed her gaze to slip to the side as if hesitant. "Am I well enough to be out of bed?"
He made a long, low considering hum.
"Perhaps. I would permit a bit of exercise today, but I must, respectfully, request that you do not exert yourself, you imperial majesty. No spells." His eye behind the monocle narrowed. "Unless your life depends upon it."
She met his eyes and gave a resolute nod. "Agreed. I know my limits."
Two sips.
Durand grinned. "You would be surprised how many patients say the same, and then overestimate themselves!"
"I nearly died," she countered cooly. "I have no desire to put myself back into that state."
She had no desire to see Руин any time soon.
"Ah…" the man deflated, before bounding back with enthusiasm. "Naturally! But I must insist, any pain, lightheadedness or nausea and you are to cease and desist immediately!"
"Noted." And she would keep it in mind. "I only wish to see the Academy and perhaps receive a guest. I do find myself curious. The girl?" She watched the subtle tension play in his shoulders. "I fear we made terrible first impressions on each other."
"Terrible first impressions," he repeated, tickled literally pink from the ruddy glow in his cheeks as he chuckled. "Yes, I imagine that is true enough. No hard feelings, hm?"
"I do not know what to feel," she said slowly. Carefully. "Because I have yet to understand how and why I have come to be here." Despite herself, she found her eyes traveling to the window where she recalled seeing twin moons in the night sky.
Lost.
"Am I to have answers, Sebastien?"
The man sobered quickly. "You will, your imperial majesty. Headmaster Osmund would like nothing more than to provide them, on my honor."
How much is honor worth, these days, she wondered.
Edmund would know.
"Then I will await them."
To retrieve my Arcanum, what is the Price? She asked, half paying attention to Durand running her through the battery of examination questions common to doctor's everywhere, designed to make patients feel like they were contributing.
Flesh.
She managed to hide the grimace as a slight tightening of her jaw. "I feel fine, sir. Tired, and a bit sore, but otherwise well."
Flesh? Of course it was. Of course it was. Loyal, as far as demons go, but cunning. It knew the depths of her desperation, and priced accordingly.
She wouldn't be able to hide that.
She wasn't entirely sure she'd be able to survive that as she was.
Weak? It asked and she did not answer.
Durand took his leave, begging her patience, and Marie shared a wry smile as soon as the door closed.
"They have not asked enough of your patience already?" she asked as she positioned the tray. The girl carefully handed over the mug of hot tea, blissfully unaware that for a moment Renia considered using her flesh instead.
Patience, she reminded herself. That cannot be taken back.
Three hundred for three thousand. The calculus had been sound and she'd been poisoned for it. Remembering that gave her all the patience she needed.
She sipped at the tea, an earthy and vaguely spicy blend. Breakfast was a mixture of fruits, cold meats, pastries and cheese. The girl misread her look.
"Is this not the fare you are used to? I - I apologize, the students have minimal complaints, but - "
"Please," Renia cut in before the girl debased herself further. "That is not a problem, I assure you. I have simpler tastes than gold flakes and jeweled covered fruit."
"Gold…?" Marie's face contorted briefly, flashing through bewilderment and disgust to exasperation. That told her a thousand words about the relationship between the nobility and the common folk here. One that should have been exploited long before, were it not for the clear monopoly of power nobles had here.
Magic.
She forced herself to nibble on some hard cheese. It was sharp with an iron aftertaste, though the latter might have just been the blood in her mouth.
"Do not mistake me, what food that was there underneath was delicious, but…" She shrugged her shoulders helplessly. "It was a waste."
Upon hearing that word, waste, a look flashed through Marie's blue eyes. A realization, or an understanding. Had she her Arcanum, she would be able to tell exactly what conclusion the girl reached, but as it was, she could only guess.
Renia had never bothered to learn how to dance. She couldn't cook either, so she never shared any recipes. She never bothered to write poetry, host balls, run an estate or any other number of skills noble ladies typically possessed.
Because they were useless.
She was a sorceress. If her lack of refinement and willingness to disparage the life of the privileged marked her as uncommonly common, then so be it.
They chatted lightly, focusing mainly on the habits of lifestyle of Tristainian nobles. Each scrap of information contributing to the picture she was building in her mind. She had to understand how people here thought, what they thought important. What they might be willing to kill for, or die for.
She had to understand Louise Françoise Le Blanc de La Vallière.
"Oh!" They were interrupted by a short, plump woman with greying dark hair pulled back into a severe bun. "I beg your pardons, majesty," she said, striding into the room with her gaze fixed on the girl who had frozen in her chair. She dumped her armful of linens on the overstuffed chair in the corner. "I hope she wasn't too much of a bother, come along, girl. You've wasted enough time!"
Renia had to only glance at the girl's stricken expression to decide. "She is assigned to me, was she not?"
That brought the woman up short. "In - in a manner of speaking, but surely it isn't appropriate - It was only for the day, while you were recovering. I can request persons of a better lineage to attend - "
"I require no such thing," she cut the woman off coldly. "Marie has been very informative and has done well so far. She will continue to do so." She softened the command with a brief lowering of her eyes. "If the Headmaster wishes to object," she said, relieving the woman of culpability. "He may do so in person."
There was nothing left but for the woman to nod. "As you wish, your majesty."
Imperial Majesty, Renia thought.
"Imperial Majesty," Marie said, rolling her eyes. "With permission, may I procure new clothes for you?"
Yes, wearing something a little bit more than a cotton shift would be nice. "If you could return my dress?"
The look on both of their faces said enough.
"I do not care if it is now ashes, I will have it back along with its sleeve of gold." If they haven't already figured out the Arcanum was not originally just part of the outfit, she was not going to inform them. Fixing her dress would be the most petty use of magic she'd ever indulged in, but if it meant not sitting through the poking and prodding necessary for people of this era to make new garments, she was willing to do it.
Provided the magic use wouldn't kill her.
Last night had been inconclusive as to the status of her spore infection.
"Marie, can you do this for me?"
The girl grinned with a happy nod. "At once!"
0/0/0/0/0/0/0
"Where were you?" Siesta hissed as soon as she entered the room. Her dark eyes swept up and down before her tense expression changed, seeing no evidence of punishment. "Oh, you weren't …"
"I was rewarded," Marie replied primly. "The queen asked that I attend her. Agnes didn't like it of course, but doing our errands, it's all beneath me now."
'Agnes,' Siesta mouthed, wordlessly recalling that it was the head lady's first name that they were to never use, but it wasn't like anyone could do anything about it. She could just imagine Agnes blustering into the room, dragging her by the ear behind her only to be met with the queen's red eyed gaze and soft, lilting voice. Queen Renia wouldn't stand for it, she knew.
Siesta smiled tentatively as she went back to folding blankets. The room was as stuffy as ever with the roaring fireplace serving to dry out the cloth as they worked. The room was too small, really, but she was embarrassed to admit she didn't know where else to go. It wasn't as if she regularly had free time to herself. There was little to do in her quarters except read one of Siesta's books. The Head Lady herself had gone to the Headmaster to retrieve the queen's belongings, so she had a bit of free time watching what she would have been doing if things had happened differently.
"You should have come with me," Marie said. The sting of abandonment had completely faded. "She would have liked you, I swear it."
"Good," Siesta said. "If she didn't like me, she could have me killed."
"She's not like that."
"How do you know?" Siesta placed her folded blanket aside on the pile. "You'll never know for sure, until she ceases to like you."
"You don't understand!" Marie burst out. "She's - "
"Arrogant?" Siesta finished for her. "Entitled? Doesn't take no for an answer?"
"Magnificent," Marie said. She turned away, frustration heating her cheeks. "She didn't take no as an answer, that much is true, but it had been on my behalf. Surely, that makes all the difference?"
"It might," her friend allowed. "Depends on what her motive was."
"You are very jaded, Siesta."
"You are very naive, Marie."
They shared a smile.
Siesta went back to her folding, a small, sad smile on her face. "If you are to be attending the queen, you should have your quarters moved."
"Should I…?" Marie asked, a bit lost on the reason.
Siesta nodded. "Not everyone will be happy for you."
None of the other girls were looking at her. Each one seemed absorbed in their task, but just yesterday she could recall the steady hum of chatter around her as she worked. It was something they had to make their errands lighter to handle and since she arrived, no one but Siesta had said a thing.
"I see," Marie whispered as she turned and quickly left.
She brought the bundle of cloth, fur, leather and gold wrapped up in cloth back to the queen's room with a smile fixed onto her face. It didn't matter. Not really. This was almost like being a handmaiden wasn't it? Or, perhaps, a lady in waiting?
A new table had been brought to the room that was slowly, but surely, transforming into a noble's quarters. She set her burden upon it and heard the bed shifting as the queen moved to stand.
"Just a moment, please," she pleaded, abandoning the cloth to swiftly cross the room to the woman's side. She held out her hands, freezing just shy of touching, stricken by a sudden uncertainty. What if touching her without explicit permission would be overstepping her bounds? What if she didn't like to be touched?
"I am fine," Queen Renia bit out and Marie couldn't help flinching back. The woman paused, casting her a look from the corner of her red eyes. "You, however, seem far less sure of yourself. Did something happen?"
The queen was concerned. For her, a simple servant girl.
Damn it Siesta, she thought.
"No," she said, smiling. "I was just being silly."
The queen didn't need too much help, just a steadying hand on her shoulder for a few moments after she settled on her feet. Together they unfolded the bundle of cloth and Marie let out a gasp, catching the shine of silver and gold among the lustre of pearls and glimmer of rubies. Almost immediately, she felt incredibly slow. The woman was a queen. If the nobles at the Academy were impressive with their fine clothes and jewelry, how much more opulent would royalty be?
The first thing the lady reached for was the gold, a waterfall of clinking as she put a hand through the chain mail link sleeve. It lacked a glove, merely ending in a golden ring that fit around the queen's middle finger while golden strands held a ruby in her palm.
The woman couldn't quite hide the gasp of pain. She ripped the chain from her arm, dropping it onto the floor as she turned, coughing. A hand was up at her mouth and it came away spotted with red flecks.
Marie instantly kicked the gold pile away under the table and the queen began to laugh between coughs. The coughing fit lasted for a worrying amount of time before it ebbed. The woman's slight frame was shaking.
"Still - " her breath wheezed. "Still weak, it seems..."
The queen reached out and laid her left hand on the other golden piece, a crown, and with her right made a gesture. The scraps of cloth and fur and leather writhed. Before her bewildered eyes, the dress resewed its seams shut and mended its tears as if they had never existed. The black three-quarters cloak flowed together into one piece once more as her shoes cleaned themselves of mud. The old dried black blood reddened and moistened until it was as if it had been freshly spilt, and then it seemingly evaporated from the cloth and white fur.
"Amazing," Marie breathed.
Queen Renia hummed non-committedly, then bent over and vomited blood.
0/0/0/0/0/0/0/0
...it is for reasons stated that the Crown feels it best that the impending visit to the Academy be moved ahead…
Osmund palmed his face.
"They are making the trip early," Longuevuille said.
"Unfortunately," he sighed. Hm, white and black lace, must be new. He knew the moment she found Chuchu by the swift foot. He winced, covering it up by lifting the parchment in front of his face.
It said nothing good that this response had come so swiftly.
Well, perhaps it said some good, being that he would have support sooner than he thought. It was only the fact that reading between the lines revealed that support would come soon because the Crown was in a panic that kept him from feeling any relief.
First Albion. Then Germania.
Now this.
"If you could send for Louise for me, my dear?"
"Preparing to throw her to the wolves?" his secretary asked with a faint frown.
"Hopefully it won't come to that," he replied and didn't deny it. He had to keep his options open. There was more at stake than one failing student. But he was the Headmaster, Founder take it! This wasn't a decision he could make lightly and he had, somewhat naively, hoped he wouldn't have to make it all. The only nation he knew of that used the word Imperial was Germania, comprised of dozens of smaller nations led by petty kings. It suggested size and with size came power. If the queen was any indication at all, her kingdom had the advantage both magically and industrially, but he also knew Karin de La Vallière would accept that excuse over her dead body. Cardinal Mazarin would come up with something he missed. He must. "Hopefully it won't."
"And if it does?"
He had no answer for that.