The simplicity of coordinating the packing that needed to be done was calming. Her orders were followed swiftly, the consequences of mistakes weren't apocalyptic and her long time servants saw no need to seek her weaknesses and exploit them. She could comfortably be a mother, a Queen and nothing else.
Melty wasn't able to hold on to the momentary peace as easily as Mirellia.
"Mother," she whispered, "w-what is the plan? Sister is doing insane things…"
Mirellia smiled sadly and pulled her daughter into a sideways hug. Melty, ever attempting to be the perfect princess, flailed for a moment before accepting her mother's affection. It was a bitter reminder of Aultcray's death. Mirellia had seen it coming. He'd made far too many enemies with his summoning of the Four Heroes, and his inability to use the Cane and lack of desire to regain his strength had destroyed him.
She mourned him, but found it hard to feel anything more than anger at the man who might have ruined her kingdom. Treachery had repaid her trust in him. He had escaped punishment and permitted the rise of someone worse.
Melty had no such conflict about him. She missed her doting father. The man who had played with her and taught her magic. The father who had spent every moment he could with her unless he was spending time with Malty.
He had been a poor father despite his affection. She had left Malty to him and he had ruined her. Had it not been for her deliberate efforts to isolate Melty from both of her toxic immediate family members, Mirellia did not doubt that Melty would have been just as bad as them. As bad as Mirellia herself was.
"We must gather allies," she said, deliberately vague. Mirellia would not permit the eavesdroppers to listen into her plans. "Malty has done well in dismantling my obvious supporters around the capital, but it will take time for her to secure the entire country. We must play a longer game."
Melty nodded slowly. Mirellia was proud to see her daughter slowly working through each line that the girl had heard. Even at 10, Melty was a skilled political interpreter. She could understand what Mirellia intended without too much difficulty.
Her naivety and lack of experience would, however, impede her risk assessment. Malty would need to kill them both to secure their rule. It was inevitable.
Mirellia felt a strange weight settle on her as she accepted what would happen.
Her family had always been volatile and damaged. The colder, more logical part of her had seen this coming from the moment she had declared Melty as her heiress.
It still hurt to contemplate killing her daughter. To kill the woman who had once been a young excitable little girl who had been so very proud of her first fireball and had eagerly run into a meeting to show off to her mother and father.
"Your Majesty," said a guard, stepping into the part of the wing in the palace they had been assigned, "Prince Takt of Faubrey is here. He wished to speak to you and Princess Melty."
Mirellia nodded and snapped her fan open. Prince Takt was at the head of a powerful faction in Faubrey. A genius who was likely to be the next ruler of Faubrey. She disliked him a great deal. A womanizer who was impolite, arrogant and more than a little condescending, but such opinions meant nothing. Not when he was the Whip Hero and had a cadre of exceptional followers.
"Lead him to the hall. Offer some refreshments," she said, signalling her servants to help her get dressed, "I shall be there soon."
It didn't take long for both Melty and herself to be ready. Mirellia was prepared for a hostile meeting. She remembered the reports her informants had provided her about Malty's education in Faubrey.
Takt had slept with Malty. Her daughter was a skilled seducer when her arrogance and impatience didn't sour her plans. The Prince was likely intelligent enough to realize that Malty was a dead woman if Mirellia succeeded.
Her mind spun as she walked into the room, plans forming and being filed away as Melty followed her obediently.
Prince Takt did not rise to greet them and his two guards, both female and beautiful, said nothing and stared at the two royals of Melromarc.
"Prince Takt," she said with a nod, discarding her courtesies, and took a seat across from him around the oak table. Melty was at her side and her two guards, one of them a Shadow behind her.
"Mirellia Melromarc," he said with an irritating tone, "I have an offer you'll accept."
Mirellia didn't rise to his provocation. "What is your offer?" she said, voice calm and polite, but only barely.
Takt looked at her with a serious expression. "I will capture the imposter that is pretending to be your daughter and stop the possession." he said, "After that, she'll want to recover and it is best if she does so here, away from the place where her trauma took place."
Mirellia felt herself freeze. Takt did not mince his words.
"Sister is possessed?" exclaimed Melty, before slamming her mouth shut and turning to her mother.
"You are certain?" she heard herself ask the Prince. Mind slowly putting the pieces together. Malty had always been cruel, that had not changed, but if this was another person then the sudden rise in confidence. The power that was being shown. The information blackout around the capital and the way her greatest allies were being dismantled made a terrible amount of sense. Worse, it made it almost obvious. If Malty was being possessed, then her Master was the one who must have killed Aultcray to take the throne and the Cane-
Stop, thought Mirellia. She was going too far with no basis. This would require careful thought, and it was not the time to do so.
"Do you think I'm stupid?" said the young man with a scoff. His companions glared at her. "The creator of the Hero system. The Goddess who made these weapons told me that Malty's being possessed. I'm the only one that can free her and I know how much you hate Malty. I won't let you kill her just because she's being controlled."
Mirellia wasn't sure how to respond to the words he'd so casually spat out. He was delusional, lying, or speaking a truth she'd never even seen referred to from anywhere else. Some sects of the various Churches that worshipped the Heroes suggested a God might exist which created the weapons and the Hourglasses, but this was the first time someone had claimed to speak to said God.
"I see," she said, deciding to use this. Possessed or not possessed. Malty, or the imposter, had to be removed. A Hero with the power of a nation behind him was certainly a worthwhile ally...even if he seemed mad, arrogant and irritating. It was a small price to pay if it increased the chances of Melromarc's survival, "What are your terms, Prince Takt?"
"I'll send some of my girls with you," he said, "They're all stronger than anyone else except me. Even this bitch who's possessing Malty won't be able to win against them. You get to keep your throne, but I want the Heroes and Malty."
Mirellia felt herself sink into something resembling normality, "Malty is my daughter," she said, realizing that this boy wanted Malty, "She will need time to recover from her possession and Aultcray's death. Please permit her to choose where to stay."
The Queen would have to convince Malty that leaving was unwise. It wouldn't be too difficult if she was truly possessed.
The Prince, who desired to be seen as benevolent, could only nod. He was trapped by his image of himself. After all, no Hero would force another to join them against their will.
It was a weakness that almost everyone had.
"She'll come with me," he said confidently with a wide smile.
Mirellia nodded and covered the lower half of her face with her fan, "If that is true will then you will find no opposition from me."
Takt studied her with a leering gaze. The lust was something she was familiar with. A tool she had used. Mirellia understood why Malty could leash this fool so easily. She doubted Malty's capability to hold this man's attention, however. This Prince truly was cut from the same cloth as the King of Faubrey. That pig was just like this boy when he'd been younger.
"Good," he said finally, "Then I'll arrange for some support and get Malty to safety."
"I should note that the Heroes are not mine to give," she said coldly, "Heroes must make their own choices."
A complete lie, but one that he could not refute easily.
"The Four Heroes are all idiots," he said dismissively, "They'll be happy to listen to me. I'll deal with that as long as you don't get in the way."
Or he could just do that, she thought, a little numb at the casual disrespect. Melty was a lot less controlled and looked a little shocked, while Prince Takt's companions looked proud of his disregard for the Legendary Heroes.
Mirellia answered him positively, and the planning session went on for a minute or two before the impatient prince declared that he would send his allies to her later and stormed off.
Melty turned to her after they left, "Mother, are we going to really take his help?"
"Yes," she said to her daughter for the listeners, her tone determined, "Let's return to packing. We have much to do."
They needed him for now; she thought. Mind working to get to the Heroes before he did. To set up a counter to him once their alliance ended. What she would do if Malty wasn't possessed?
Takt and his tools were useful, but they complicated her situation.
She could only hope that her other assets wouldn't do the same.
