Star as the Substitute

Tougher than diamonds, rich like cream

Stronger and harder than a bad girl's dream

~ Huey Lewis

Chapter 2

When Anger and Revenge get married, their daughter is called Cruelty. ~ Russian Proverb

"How did I get into this mess?" Leon subvocalized to Luxion.

"I had no idea that Holfort had such interesting customs," Hertrude murmured as the two of them passed Brad and Greg. "Are you likely to dress like that at any point?"

The two of them were dressed in what was apparently the uniform for the host cafe that Marie Fou Lafan was running through the festival. She hadn't called it that when she filed her application, but the purpose was clear. The purple and red members of her coterie were wearing sharp black pants, polished shoes, and a bib made up to look like the front of a tuxedo shirt.

"If someone had a gun to my head, I'd have to think very carefully on whether my life was really worth that."

"What a shame. If all the young knights of Holfort were so eccentric I would feel more confident in the Principality's security."

"Eccentricity is unfortunately not a clear indicator of lacking competence." Marie's plan was actually working, after all. Many of the girls in the academy were happily paying the quite ridiculous prices demanded to have cheap tea and snacks served to them by the prince and his friends. In theory it might be sweet that the five of them valued their dignity so little when it came to their loved one, but Leon had to wonder if they realised how little respect for them it showed on her part. "Or having any, to be fair."

"If you had run your own store, or taken part in the student council's play, you wouldn't have been available to escort the princess, master." Luxion sounded entirely too smug.

"So you're saying this is my own fault."

"I would never deprive you of realising that for yourself," the AI declared innocently.

"I'm almost tempted to visit this cafe of Lady Lafan's," the princess continued, "If only to see if Prince Julius is so lacking in good sense."

"He is."

She smiled slyly. "So quick to disown him. Have my charms won you away from the Holforts already?"

"My homeland, right or wrong. If right to be kept right, if wrong to be made right." Leon shook his head. "That doesn't mean I'm personally loyal to him… perhaps if he removes his head from a certain bodily orifice I'll reconsider this."

Hertrude flushed a little at the crudity. "One can tell that you don't spend much time around court."

"I'm sorry," he apologised. "I forgot that I was dealing with such a sheltered young lady."

"I will have you know that I am as worldly as any woman that ever set foot on - on - on -" she broke off as she saw Deidre Fou Roseblade sweeping down the path, accompanied by two demihuman servants and wearing the costume of her part in the next day's play.

She was playing an evil marchioness in the Student Council's production of the classic Countess of Monte Cristo, and the voluptuous blonde certainly looked the part.

"Are rehearsals going well?"

Deirdre turned to Leon and bit back what would likely have been pure arrogance as she saw that he was escorting the foreign princess. "Very well indeed. I daresay that my performance will leave you as stunned and awed as it does the rest of the audience."

"I admire your confidence."

"Well, since you lack the confidence to take the stage I shall leave you to admire me from the audience, Lord Bartford."

Leon inclined his head. "I shall be praying for you to trip, forget your lines or suffer a costume malfunction then." He considered what she was wearing with some appreciation. "Not that there's much to malfunction."

The drill-haired girl laughed disdainfully. "Your prayers will fail, for you worship at the wrong altar. Ohohohoho..."

Leon waited for her to stop coughing. "Honey and lemon may help with that," he offered.

"Thank you," the girl admitted. "Servant, I will take honey and lemon in my tea."

"Yes, my lady," the demihuman not carrying Deirdre's bags came to attention. "Shall I fetch you some?"

"No, I'll take tea in my rooms," she decided. "That way I can rehearse my lines again. Not that I don't have them perfectly memorised."

Hertrude stared enviously at the busty young woman as Dierdre and her entourage departed. "Is that glued on?"

"Either that or magnets," Leon concluded. "Otherwise…"

The princess drew herself up. "I am in any case a worldly and accomplished lady, Lord Bartford."

"Of course. Would you like to go visit the stall selling romance novels? Then you can retreat somewhere quiet and wait out the madness." He rather hoped that she agreed. That would let him make an escape - Hertrude was fun to tease but the more time he spent with her, the greater the chances she recognised his voice or some other clue that he was the same man that had stolen from Castle Fanoss. And perhaps more pointedly, the man who'd pointed a gun at her precious little sister. She probably didn't know that it had just been a dart gun with sedatives.

"No," Hertrude declared. "The time approaches for the airbike races and it would be my pleasure to watch them."

"Her highness' wish is my command," Leon assured her (holding back certain reservations to that). He offered his arm again to her and Hertrude placed her hand lightly on his forearm, letting him lead her to the stands overlooking the track laid out for several dozen airbikes to race.

There was naturally a class divide here - most of the students watching the festival's most hyped and gambled on event were on rows of seats in the open air, but above them there were lounges with floor to ceiling windows, allowing those of the highest status (the daughters of noble houses, their servants and if they were very lucky, their fiances) to enjoy the experience while screened from noise and dust.

Princess Hertrude naturally (and correctly) assumed she would have uncontested access to the lounges and she was right, which also meant Leon was allowed in.

"Is there any means to get a closer look at the race?" the princess asked, looking down at the starting grid.

"The open stands are closer," Leon stated the obvious, "But also rather crowded." He glanced around and saw one of the other ladies present using opera glasses. "Perhaps I can get you some of those?"

It took some asking around before Leon found that it was the barman who provided the glasses. At a price, of course. (And yes, of course there was a barman - and a bar. Why would there not be?)

"My thanks." Hertrude lifted the opera glasses and started examining the racers eagerly only for the flag to wave and be left watching them zoom away.

The track was mostly still in view from the stands, which were only on the outer edge. The altitude at which the airbikes raced meant that even the lower stands had a reasonable line of sight to the racers.

Leon watched Hertrude as she watched the students blaze away around the track. She certainly seemed intent. "Are airbikes a passion of yours?"

"Oh yes," she told him, not tearing her eyes away from the opera glasses. She wasn't just tracking the leaders, she was scanning the entire line-up. As the racers finished their first loop, racing past the stands again, Leon saw that Hertrude simply focused on the track, watching each of the riders go past her viewpoint, not trying to track any of them - not even the jostling pack that had formed up around Jilk Fia Marmoria.

Leon was pretty sure that the boy was in trouble, but he was the best racer in the first year special class, so short of breaking his leg there was no keeping him from going out to race. Actually doing that had been dismissed only because there would be no small suspicion that Leon might be involved out of some grudge from the duel before the summer.

"Luxion," he mused, communicating subvocally. "Can you tell what she's looking at?"

The drone was lurking just above the lounge windows, hard to see. Luxion didn't react for several moments. "Based on the angle of her opera glasses, she appears to be more interested in the airbikes rather than the riders," it reported at last.

Leon bit back a groan. She must be looking for an airbike similar to the one I used to escape Fanoss, he realised. Evidence that Holfort was behind my raid.

She wasn't going to see his airbike out there, of course. But if he did wind up replacing Jilk, which had been the decision in the book…

"Luxion, I don't suppose you could build another airbike overnight?"

"It would take a little longer, master."

"How about disguising the existing airbike to look more like a conventional one?" Leon asked hopefully. "And err on the side of making it more durable - even if it's at the expense of speed."

"That will be possible, master. Although if that is the case you may not be able to defeat these new humans should you enter the race."

"Winning is nice," he reminded the AI, "but surviving matters more."

As if to emphasise this, a familiar looking airbike fell out of the race. It was trailing smoke and the rider prudently rolled off it once he was low enough. A few seconds later, the bike hit one of the poles marking the route and went into a spin before hitting the ground and exploding into hundreds of pieces.

Despite having jumped free, the rider hadn't gotten away lightly. He tried to sit up, only to slump to the ground in evident pain.

"It looks as if someone has suffered some misfortune," Hertrude noted, with thinly disguised satisfaction.

"It can be a rough sport, but whoever did this probably cost themselves a lot of time." Leon shaded his eyes and watched as a rescue team went out to collect the fallen rider. The first man on site helped the rider remove his helmet. A familiar head of green hair was revealed - as expected, Jilk's enemies among the other racers had forced him out of the competition.

"I appreciate you leaving the race for this." Leon led Hertrude down into the support rooms built below the stands, from which various functions supporting the race took place.

"Your loyalty to Holfort is misplaced," she told him. "But I can respect that you feel obligated to see to the wellbeing of a fellow student council member. Though is he not the same boy that attempted to force you out of the duel last term with vile threats to your loved ones?"

Leon nodded. "He is indeed. So I get to discharge my duties and also enjoy seeing him in pain. It's nice to be able to hit more than one bird with a single stone." Then he mimed poking at a wounded person. "Does this hurt? How about this?"

Hertrude covered her mouth. "You are a terrible person, Lord Bartford."

"One should always seek to excel."

The medical room's door was open and the pair of them paused to look inside. It seemed that they weren't the first visitors to arrive though - a small crowd had gathered, in fact.

"Alright, let me through," Leon told them with a sigh. "No one's allowed to sell tickets for viewing the wounded Marmoria - paperwork would have to be filed in advance. However profitable it would apparently be."

The students, mostly older than Leon, nonetheless stepped aside for him and he led Hertrude in to see a resigned Jilk sitting up on a bed, already stripped of his racing gear and bandaged beneath the loose medical smock he wore. His eyes were closed, as if he wished not to look at his guests.

"Ah, Leon. Jilk's definitely in poor shape," Clarice Fia Atlee smiled in a catlike fashion. She leant over and jabbed one finger into the injured boy's side. "How does that feel?"

The young greenette gritted his teeth and said nothing.

Hertrude glanced sideways at Leon, who spread his hands slightly in concession. His earlier jest now felt to have been in poor taste. "I have the impression that you are not here as Lord Marmoria's friend, Lady Atlee."

Clarice's head jerked around and then she smirked. "Ah, princess. I imagine that you might not have learned what a piece of work he is. No, I'm just here to examine my handiwork."

"So you were behind this then," Jilk concluded. There was no satisfaction in his voice as he continued: "I had thought as much."

"Yeah!" The redhead wheeled upon him. "That's right. You threw me away and now I'll put through every hell I can imagine. No matter how much you beg me, I will never forgive you!"

Even Hertrude stepped back in alarm at the rage on display. Leon folded his arms. "So you won't be doing him the kindness of finishing him off today?"

Two of the students who'd come with Clarice moved towards Leon as he questioned her, but she waved them back. "What possible reason do you have to stand up for him?"

He shook his head. "I'm not. But this is tearing you apart as well."

She jerked her head back, showing off her new look. "Don't try to pretend you don't like looking at me, Bartford. I've seen your eyes lingering when we crossed paths."

"You do have a beautiful body," he admitted and was amused to see the demihuman servants bristle. "But I've also seen your eyes. You have a raw wound, Lady Atlee. One that you can't stop tearing open. I'd rather not see that destroy you, so if you're going to deal with Jilk then do it. Get it over with and put him behind you."

"W-what do you know?" she demanded, fingers twitching into claws.

Leon wasn't entirely sure if he was about to be lynched - assuming Clarice didn't unleash her magic and attack him directly. But he'd started, so he'd finish. "The opposite of love is not hate. It's indifference… and you're evidently a long way from being indifferent to this moron."

The girl trembled, as if on the cusp of doing something rash. Then she exhaled slowly. "So you think I did wrong, that I should be like Redgrave and pretend that I'm happy to let him just go on - as if he'd never cast me away when I never did anything to deserve it?"

"I'm saying he's worth less than your whole life. If you want revenge then take it and be done."

Clarice spun and pointed down at Jilk, who had yet to open his eyes. "Don't plan on racing again, Marmoria. If you turn up, we'll drag you down in front of everyone. And if you send anyone else, even your precious prince, then I'll do the same. You said you'd win this race for your class, but I won't let any one of you finish the race. Enjoy knowing you're dragging all your friends down with you, you pathetic loser."

At that, finally Jilk looked up at her. "If you feel you must. Just leave Marie out of it. Touch her and I'll take my own revenge."

As if the mention of the other girl, Clarice managed something Leon would have never guessed possible. She grew even angrier. Her eyes were practically bloodshot and Leon imagined he could feel electricity in the air.

Oh wait, he wasn't imagining anything.

"I'll tell you the same thing I told Lady Ades, the day Seberg broke it off with her." He kept his voice - somehow! - calm and non-confrontational. "There's nothing you can do to Marie Fou Lafan that's worse than what she's inflicted upon herself."

"I could think of a thing or two."

Leon shook his head slowly. "She thought she was seducing rich and powerful men, that she would enjoy all the opportunities and privileges that could be lavished upon her - perhaps even become queen." He shrugged as if that was a matter of no consequence. "She thought they were an escape from a family that does nothing but heap debt and responsibility upon her. Now she has to nursemaid a pack of man-children who will be a constant burden. She's in a hell of her own making."

"How dare you!" Jilk exclaimed, attempting to leave the bed in his outrage. He still wasn't up to it and slumped backwards with a groan of pain.

Clarice looked down at her former fiance and then, to the amazement of everyone, she chuckled. It was not a kind laugh, but at least she no longer seemed about to do murder. "Perhaps, Bartford, you might understand revenge better than I thought." She shook her head and stepped up to him, well inside his personal space. "Do tell Angelica what I told him though. I take nothing back. My friends here will destroy Jilk if he races tomorrow - and I will be only marginally kinder to anyone that substitutes. Even if it's you."

Hertrude remained behind Leon until Clarice and all of her company had left the room. "I begin to understand why Holfort's knights are so formidable," she exclaimed, apparently so shaken she was actually willing to compliment her nation's ancient foe. "If you must face women like that."

"Lady Atlee is exceptional, but you may be onto something," the dark-haired boy admitted.

Jilk rolled onto his back again. "Don't ever speak of Marie like that again, Bartford. You know nothing about her!"

"What are you going to do? Bleed on me?" Leon was tempted to probe at Jilk and see how much he knew about Viscount Lafan's household, and particularly the daughter that the greenette claimed to love. But a duel of wits with the unarmed was no great entertainment. "Worry more about what you'll do next. You'll be doing well to walk by tomorrow, much less race."

"I'll manage, somehow."

"Yeah, right." He shook his head. "If someone does take your place tomorrow, you're going to owe them - big time."

Jilk's face was pale. "I hate to agree with a bastard like you… but for once I have little choice to admit that you're right."

Hertrude gave Leon a wary look as if expecting him to take offence.

The boy shrugged. "He's technically right. There was a temporary irregularity regarding my mother's marital status - we sorted it out eventually."

"You were fifteen when they married!"

"Married is married, Marmoria."

The philosophical discussion was cut short as another pack of visitors arrived, this squad less fond of Leon than Clarice's clique. On the other hand, Julius and Marie seemed unlikely to be out to maim Jilk - and Leon would give the other three enough credit to think that they probably weren't actively murderous towards their romantic rival.

"What is he doing here?" asked Greg Fou Seberg bluntly.

"He has a name," Leon told him. "And you should be more polite with a princess in the room."

Brad Fou Field seemed to realise only then that Hertrude was in the room, and pointedly moved around to be as far from her as he could manage within the confines of the medical room. She seemed happy enough about that since all four of the other boys were still in their waiter outfits.

"Whatever happened to you?" Marie exclaimed, "I heard that you fell from your airbike."

"I didn't fall off, Marie. I jumped clear before it crashed!"

Leon cleared his throat. "Before Marmoria digs himself even deeper, Lady Atlee has many friends among the airbikers. Apparently they decided to express their displeasure at his treatment of her by battering his bike during the race. It basically exploded after he got clear."

Marie examined Jilk's wounds, behaving more maturely than usual. "This is terrible, Jilk."

"I'll recover in time, Marie. After all, I have to win the race for you tomorrow."

Hertrude shook her head. "Then they'll likely kill you."

"What?!" Julius exclaimed.

"Hell hath no fury like a woman scorned," Leon warned them. "I've never met Fanoss' legendary black knight, but I suspect even his wrath against Holfort pales compared to Clarice's anger."

"You, uh, may not be entirely wrong," admitted the princess from next to him. "She was very clear that you, or whoever races tomorrow in your place will be targeted the same way."

"I'll go," Julius declared, "I'm almost as good on an airbike as you are Jilk."

"Absolutely not!" the prince's foster-brother exclaimed, paling at the very thought. "You… you can't leave Marie without your support at the cafe." He gestured to his bandages. "I doubt I'll be very appealing as a waiter right now."

Julius froze, struck by one of the few arguments that might dissuade him. He looked at Marie, who clasped her hands together. "Please, I couldn't bear to lose either of you!"

For once, Leon approved of the little blonde's acting.

The girl stepped closer to Jilk. "Let me do what I can to help." Placing her hands upon him, she focused and then a clear, bright light washed over the room.

Even standing well away, Leon felt a wave of relief as fatigue faded and the trivial aches and stiffness of the day were washed away. At the centre of the magic, Jilk's pallor improved markedly and he seemed visibly stronger.

"Marie!" he exclaimed, reaching out and dragging her into an embrace.

The other boys rushed forwards to take their own moments with 'their healing angel', but Hertrude stepped back, letting go of Leon's arm. After a moment, she stepped hastily for the exit and Leon had to stretch his legs to keep up.

Only once they were exiting the racing building did the princess slow to a halt, resting one hand against a wall to steady herself. "Leon, did I see what I thought I did?"

He shrugged. "Lafan's magic?"

"Light magic!" she exclaimed. "You know how rare that is. I had no idea… I - I've never encountered it before."

Fanoss was considerably smaller than the sprawling Kingdom of Holfort, Leon reminded himself. And there weren't many light magic users even here. It was one reason Olivia had been given unprecedented enrollment to the special class: it was unlikely there were a half-dozen light magic users as strong as Marie in all of Holfort, much less as powerful as the scholarship student. Undoubtedly, it was one reason that she had had a thought that she might be acceptable as a partner for one of the boys she'd seduced.

"It's not common, even here."

"Even in Fanoss, we respect adventurers. We were part of the kingdom once - as little as most of us like to remember it." Hertrude sounded disorientated. "And we have our own temples, and revere light magic. So why, why is Holfort so gifted with it when we are not?"

Leon, genuinely surprised at her shock, found himself for once with nothing to say.

Angelica was surprised to see Leon bringing a distressed-looking Princess Hertrude over to her. One reason she'd agreed with Nicol's suggestion to assign the count's younger son as their guest's primary escort was that he seemed to have some genuine rapport with the slender young woman.

"Is something the matter?" her own guest asked.

The blonde's plans for the festival had been rather complicated by being called away to greet another royal visitor, this one planning to be incognito. But one did not argue with the queen - especially as, since her own mother's loss years ago, Mylene Rafa Holfort had rather stepped into that role for Angelica.

"I assume so," Angelica answered and went to meet the pair partway through a street of booths serving snack foods. The queen had delighted in shopping at each and every one of them, even those that her guide would have thought unbefitting of royalty.

Perhaps that was why her highness insisted on not revealing her identity, she thought. Although the princess will see right through the disguise.

It was a very thin one, little more than Mylene setting aside her gowns and tiara for a dress more befitting a middling noblewoman. She did look younger and less burdened - although Angelica admitted that she might be imagining it. Not seeing her substitute-mother over the summer had been more of a disappointment than she'd realised. To see her again and receive acceptance rather than blame for the fact that she could no longer be Mylene's daughter-in-law was a great relief.

"Is everything alright, Leon?"

"Sorry to interrupt you," Leon greeted her. "Unfortunately, there's been a little issue." He glanced at the queen but to Angelica's relief he didn't seem to recognise her. "I didn't know you had an older sister, Angelica."

Angelica flushed and her relief evaporated. Fortunately, the queen merely smiled. "Ah, Angie, this must be one of the young men who fought for your honour. Lord… Bartford?"

"At your service, my lady. Though also at Lady Angelica's and Princess Hertrude's." He paused. "I seem to be at the service of a lot of people."

"That is rather the social order," the queen pointed out.

Hertrude's eyes widened, her distraction not quite enough to keep her from identifying Angelica's companion.

"So what is the matter?" Angelica asked, drawing Leon's attention away from the quiet hand signalling Mylene was resorting to, trying to communicate her intention to remain discreet.

Leon sighed, recounting a sordid tale of Clarice's revenge against Jilk. "At least Lafan had the sense to not want his highness substituting - maybe not for the same reasons we have to avoid that, but I'll take the result."

Mylene looked livid. "I never thought I'd hear of something like this - the boy could have been killed!"

"I came very close to killing him last term, so I'd hardly weep for that," Leon said harshly. "But he's been disowned so we'd also need to handle his funeral and it would ruin the festival."

"W-what?!"

Angelica reached out to take the queen's hand. "Jilk threatened Leon's family to try to force him to concede his duel," she reminded the older woman. "I would find it hard to blame him for taking Clarice's side."

"...I'm sorry, Lord Bartford." Mylene inclined her head. "I… I've known Jilk Fia Marmoria since he was a young boy, I still find it hard to reconcile that with what I've heard of the duel."

"I don't actually want any of them dead," Leon conceded. "My temper got a little ahead of me there. It would be nice if they'd grow up a bit though. Or a lot."

"I can only conclude that Lady Lafan brings out the worst in them. I'd hesitate to call her a bad influence when I haven't met her, but…"

Hertrude looked distracted at the mention of Marie. Angelica wondered why - she wasn't sure if they'd crossed paths much. Presumably they must have met since Leon mentioned Marie talking Julius out of substituting for Jilk in the race. At least Hertrude had no fiance for the little tramp to seduce away.

Angelica had not the slightest doubt that if the princess had been engaged then Marie would have made the attempt and she wasn't willing to bet against her. The small blonde had a proven track record and it was unlikely she'd care about the political consequences.

"I'd better see what state Jilk is in," she said tiredly. "Even if he's recovered, he's probably not going to be able to race tomorrow - I don't know where he'd get an airbike. Whether we send someone else out, I don't know yet."

The queen nodded. "I've taken you away from your responsibilities, Angie. Please go ahead. I'll be fine."

Oh, of course. She could hardly accompany Angelica and expect her identity not to come out - Julius would recognise his own mother, if nothing else.

"Leon," the young woman asked. "If I could be a bother and ask you to keep My… sister company while I'm busy?"

"I don't usually object to having a fair flower on each arm, but I should ask Hertrude first." The boy turned to the princess. "I realise this surely isn't what you had in mind for the day…"

"Oh it's quite alright." Hertrude's smile was a little sly - perhaps anticipating Leon's expression once he realised who Mylene was. "I'm very happy to make the acquaintance of another lady of this kingdom."

Leon extended his arm and Mylene took it with a warm smile. "Is there anything you'd like to do?" he asked.

"Oh," the queen said - with a note in her voice that suggested to Angelica that the woman had a definite purpose in mind - "Do you have any idea where Lady Mary Hunt might be found? I did want to have a word with her if the opportunity arose…"