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In the days that followed Vandal's return to Cintra, the triumvirate of generals along with the soul-bound army were treated as Cintra would treat a foreign delegation, with all due hospitality that the Northern Kingdoms were known for. Yet even though the members of the royal court carried themselves with all the formality expected of them, showing that they were united in this endeavor of cooperation, behind closed doors it was anything but cooperative. Having been relieved from the threat of the undead incursions to the point that the kingdom was beginning to attain some semblance of normalcy again, the court was quick to dismiss the latest threat, displaying their harbored resentment for Dagorad's decisions as of late- all of which they saw as extravagant, needlessly expensive and in other words, impulsive.
The nobility who formed the royal court's inner circle, naturally, could not see beyond their personal interests which they now felt were being threatened by the crown's actions. Even though the king's word was, by all means, the law of the land, a great majority of the lords and ladies were rather eager to withdraw their support. As far as they were concerned, their lands, their coffers, and their very lives were paramount. The matter had not been resolved yet, and Dagorad found himself treading on thin ice, for he did not wish to lose the many allies he fought so hard to keep when he ascended to the throne.
And so, a new war had to be fought at the heart of the kingdom- a political one. The stakes to be played were the favors of the court, each member's loyalty ever questionable and ever shifting as their interests varied and required adequate compensation. Of all the things that retained its hold on the realm, the game of thrones seemed to be the most tenacious. Truly, even in the face of armageddon, it could never be stopped.
Lord Strauss, though an avid player himself, bore through the game with unparalleled disgust that he so expertly disguised under a mask of pretense. While the world burned around them, the nobles would play at politics. Heroes like that one outworlder, the one called Vandal, who had just recently begun his ascent into the heights of Cintran powers, they all came and went. Their lives became forfeit for the true monsters, often unknowingly sacrificing themselves in body and soul so the accursed would live on. And the grinding wheel that was the powers of the land, it would keep turning long after they were gone.
A lifetime ago, when Dagorad was just a prince and had yet to become the powerful king that he was today, Strauss willingly became that same monster he loathed so he could ensure a good man would remain on the throne. It took a great deal of effort to learn the game, and cost him many friends as well as made him a lot of enemies, but he mastered it in time. Dagorad and Adalia needed his help now more than ever, just as the throne itself. The Lord Protector was more than willing to put his skills to use once more.
One day, as he entered the royal gardens which were located in the center courtyard of the royal palace, Strauss met one of the visitors on his way to meet with one of the lords he intended to curry favor from. He spied her from afar, easily enough with that eye-catching ashen hair swept into a neat little braid.
Lady Belen, the woman who was in Lord Vandal's company when he returned to the capital, was seated atop one of the stone benches as she stared at the marvelous display of waterworks in the bubbling fountain nearby. They had met once or twice before in the time she spent attending the conferences held in the king's throneroom, but he never got any further than knowing her name. She, like many of her ilk, was a mystery. And, as a magpie would be to a shining object, he was drawn to her. If it wasn't just mere attraction, it was a politically related move.
Allies were, after all, in short supply and were thus valued wherever one could pick them.
"Lady Belen, greetings." Lord Strauss said as he approached the woman. His gaze fell upon the small silver mirror in her gloved hands, in which she curiously had no reflection in.
Lady Belen turned her head towards the Lord Protector and folded her hands over the mirror. Her eyes were the darkest blue, which betrayed the sadness that was almost palpable about her. Her lips curled into a small polite smile, "Salutations." She uttered a mirthless chuckle, "Forgive me...but your name escapes me..."
"Ah, 'tis nothing to be ashamed of." Ubrich assured her, "Sometimes I find myself in a similar spot. Can't remember all the names in a court this big. I am Ubrich Strauss, sometimes acting Lord Protector of the Realm whenever the crown is unavailable. Folk forget that I assume that title only when either the king or queen are indisposed, but the name stuck alas, so I wear it wherever I go."
"Mmm, yes. Now I remember." Lady Belen nodded, scooting over to invite him to sit down with her. "You've been most accommodating to us. For that, I thank you."
"I do my best to help our friends, as my duty demands." Ubrich said as he accepted her invitation, took a seat then interlaced his fingers together between his legs. "I do not wish to be overly presumptuous, but I just cannot help but be curious. So I find myself wondering, what is it that you do?"
Her eyes peered deeply into his own. As he watched those dark blue swirling orbs, he felt a strange calm wash over him. "Well, what do you mean by 'what I do'?"
"You're in the company of warriors, fine ones all." Ubrich elaborated, later frowning as he realized he'd just given away his intentions. "Lord Vandal brought you to the capital for a reason. This, I must know."
Lady Belen smiled, clearly delighting in his perplexed expression. "So refreshing to tell the truth, is it not?"
Ubrich was angry for a moment, but quickly got over it the next. He'd been playing the game against one he thought would be a guileless asset, and found that he had stumbled upon another player. Rather than feeling angry over it, he felt his interest in her rise to new heights. "You cast a spell on me." Magic was a unique advantage in the game, and Ubrich lamented that he forgot that there were no rules in it. To be a good player, one must use all resources at their disposal.
"And you were looking to exploit me." Lady Belen turned to watch the fountain again, "A fair play."
"Well, you've got me." Ubrich commended her, "Although, I do not believe the play is anything but fair. You've taken a peek at my cards, I fear I am at a disadvantage."
"Asking a lady to reveal her hand?" The woman's smile grew, "Come now, Lord Strauss, that is improper!"
"The way I see it, we may very well be playing the same hand together." The Lord Protector mused.
"Are we now?" Lady Belen's piercing gaze traveled from one corner of the courtyard gardens to the other, testing his resolve by playing the dismissive courtier. "I do believe you have an appointment with some lord, is it wise to keep him so?"
"Oh, I don't think he's worth the time."
"Really now? What would prod the Lord Protector to think thusly?"
"I think I found a powerful ally right here." Ubrich said, this time not requiring a spell to make him speak the truth. No bumbling spills, only a calculated trickle to gain her favor. "A sorceress who plays the part of Keeper of Secrets is not entirely new in any court, but when one plies their trade amongst the wrong crowds- it might turn ugly."
"Flattery and threats, the rose petals and its thorns." Lady Belen replied, her spirits lifting as she felt the thrill of her old life resurfacing.
"No threats, only warnings from a potential friend." Ubrich assured her, "I am not the wrong crowd. We can help each other."
One final test, if he passed he would be able to finally see her card, but never the whole hand. "How?"
The Lord Protector had his answer readied beforehand, he saw that question a mile away. "I offer a place in the court of Cintra, in return for your loyal services, of course."
There was a pause, as if Lady Belen was carefully measuring each word that fell from her lips. "I have been to many courts, my lord. What would another mean to me?"
"Ah, but I wager that you weren't in those courts for their sake alone. You were there, like many of us who play the game, for the sake of it. The thrill of dancing atop the edge of a knife, to wield plots and schemes as one would conduct a symphony, to play the game for all its stakes." Lord Strauss smiled confidently as he noted the change in her expression from casual disdain to intrigue, "Play it with me, and let both our fortunes rise with the crown."
Lady Belen laughed heartily, taking the lord aback. "My my, you're going all in on this one, aren't you?" The smile disappeared as her mood changed to a more serious tone, "I am well aware of the game, do not for a moment mistake that I am otherwise. My skills in service are not weighed in gold, but in blood. My counsel has decided the fates of whole empires, shaped the future through the many strings I plucked, until I danced too close to the edge and fell. I failed in regards to retaliation in my last life, it won't happen again."
She took a moment to recompose herself, then stared back into the waters of the fountain. "You will have an ally in me. If you remain a team-player, my skills will work in your favor. Make a misstep against me, you will feel the sting of reprisal- but will never see it coming."
"As all things should be." The Lord Protector said with a nod, respecting her bluntness in the latter part of her sentence.
"I'm glad we understand each other." Lady Belen replied, "Now tell me, my lord, what stakes are we playing for this round?"
"For now, the strengths of this realm- that lie with the nobility. The Royal Army can only do so much, the vassals require more incentives to pitch in with the coming war."
"We are at war, Lord Protector."
"Ahem, yes. But they do not know that." Ubrich said, "They'd like to believe that it is all far away, so far that they cannot be touched by it. Sadly, it falls to us to personally chip away at this ridiculous notion. And you, oh Mistress of Secrets, will help me find out how to make them change their minds."
"Very well. I shall need their names, Lord Protector, the rest you can leave to me." Lady Belen later added, "I shall find you later this afternoon, I will have results before then."
"Really? That quickly?"
"My talents extend beyond just the mastery of persuasion and guile, my lord." She told him as she got up to leave, "And I am not in the habit of wasting life's most precious resource. Time, once spent, has no refunds."
"Indeed. So what if-" Lord Strauss turned around, only to find himself alone in the gardens. Lady Belen had vanished into thin air, leaving the man to ponder long about the curious circumstances that brought them together. He wondered if it was just pure coincidence that Lady Belen had set him up, picking the time and place expertly so he would meet her.
She certainly looked the type to do such a thing. He made a mental note to watch her carefully. She was no member of the Brotherhood of Sorcerers, which made her quite dangerous as her motives were yet to be determined, but at the same time made her a very useful asset. That is, as long as he could keep her in check.
He would have to play for two things from that moment on. One, for the favor of the court. The second, for the Lady Belen's loyalty. Both were worth playing for, as they were for the realm's best interests.
"Lord Vandal." Serah purred in his ear as her arms snaked and coiled around his massive chest, "I do love the sound of that."
Vandal smiled as he stood there with nothing but his trousers on, putting one free hand to caress her arms as she embraced him from behind, and read a couple of invoices in the other. "The proper term for my position in the peerage would be baron, but I suppose that sounds more...regal."
They stood there together close to the table filled with stacks of state papers, deeds and other documents. Vandal's tasks extended well beyond than that of a mere knight. As baron, he had properties to attend to, the responsibilities of which came piling on top of one another the moment he put his name in the deed.
"Come back to bed." Serah said as she kissed his neck, "You've been staying up late every night doing little else than stare at those stupid things."
"I stare because I can't understand half of the words inscribed." Vandal chuckled, turning around to face another titillating barrage of kisses from the raven-haired woman. "If only I had a competent tutor..."
"Come now, don't hurt my feelings so." Serah giggled as she pulled him back into the bed, where Sandy lay sprawled with nothing but Vandal's shirt to cover her. The woman had filled her gullet on the finest wine the cellar of the house could offer, and then some. Nothing could rouse her from her slumber, for she lay as though someone cast a sleeping spell on her in the night.
Serah gasped as Vandal pulled her skirt up to her waist and lifted her supple thighs high, only to cry out in surprise when his lips tasted of her down under. She might have been an incompetent teacher in some ways, but she was creative in her methods of teaching. One such method was teaching Vandal how to write the nordling alphabet on her- with his tongue.
Her fingers brushed down across his soft mane and curled to grasp at his hair. Vandal was no master at the current lesson, but he was an attentive student. He listened to her tortured grunts, her elated moans of approval and her breathless gasps of delight. Whenever he realized he did something she liked, he would have at it like a thirsting hound lapping at water, relentlessly and oh so vigorously.
And when he employed the use of his fingers, Serah's voice came away with shameless screams. When she was finished, Vandal left the room so she could rest. For the better part of the morning, she lay there in that bed, a quivering but thoroughly satisfied mess.
"My lord, is everything alright?" Tammen, one of the guardsmen, inquired of the noise when he saw the baron descend the stairs.
Vandal smoothened down his shirt and glanced up the stairs then back down to Tammen, "It is now. Carry on, my good man."
The guardsman saluted, then returned to his post. Vandal, seeing that there was little else to do in the house but read more state papers, announced his desire to inspect the lands given to him by the king and rode off on Alfie. Along the way, he passed by adoring crowds of cityfolk and many of the soul-bound who've taken to interact with the people of Cintra. He stopped to speak with many of them, inquired of how they fared with their current circumstances and how they've come to adjust in their new lives.
The answers he got were mixed. Some were happy to have a second chance, others were not so optimistic as they still grieved the loss of their world, while the rest refused to let the Vestige of Warmth know of their thoughts. Vandal tried with all he could do to make their stay comfortable, but alas, the cityfolk were not all accommodating.
The different were always a target for disdain, hatred and loathing.
However, curiously enough, those who grew to accept the soul-bound were those of the non-human population. Vandal had not met many of their kind in the time he spent on the Continent, and he was rather eager to meet them now that he knew they existed. Elves, dwarves and gnomes. Every one of them were of great interest to the young baron, and he spent a great deal of the day just getting to know them before finally heading out of the city to visit his properties.
When he got there, Vandal was astonished with how large the land was and felt grateful that he had help in overseeing it. Sir Boshly, the former owner of that land, knew every one of the workers who kept it in good order. Upon being stripped of his title and branded Craven, the lands were forfeited and given to the ownership of the king, though the workers were kept as a provisional retinue should another lord be granted the ownership of that land later.
"Ah, greetings master." Sir Boshly bowed as he caught sight of his liege riding up the common road. He had someone see to the horse as Vandal dismounted and walked towards his overseer's tent. The construction of the new dwellings had gone underway in advance of his inspection, and when Vandal arrived it was already nearing completion. "Come to see how the work fares?"
"Yes, I was feeling rather restless." Vandal replied, "As of late, all I could think about is the great evil we all are about to face. I've been trying to get an answer from the court, but they've blocked me at every turn. It frustrates me so..."
"My liege, this is how things in the court work." Boshly said to him, "Forgive me for being so bold as to assume you've little experience in the inner workings of the realm, but every decision like this that concerns not just the kingdom entire, but the whole world? It requires time and a great deal of political intrigue."
Vandal nodded, "I won't hold it against you, but thanks for letting me know."
When the refugees started coming in droves, Vandal wondered if they had enough dwellings to hold everyone as there seemed to be too many to be accommodated with nothing short of a small city. Thankfully, Sir Boshly had anticipated this, and the dwellings were enough to keep them with a good roof over their heads. The promise of shelter and security would be given if the refugees were willing to work the fields, as many of them were peasant farmers or livestock herders. By Boshly's estimates, his liege's shelter for the downtrodden would quickly sprout from a humble bunch of dwellings to a small village teeming with workers just looking to have their skills put to good use, so he saw no harm in getting them settled with working the fields while the baron and his house took a just cut of the profits.
"You should be prepared for the tax collectors, my lord." He informed Vandal, "Wherever there is profit, the crown must always have its cut."
"Tax collectors..." Vandal mused, "Ah yes, every kingdom's cogs need their grease."
"Uh, that's right. Where'd ya heard that from?"
"I read it in a book."
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