Regards to my reviewers.
The Court
Lady Beatrix of Alexandria, family name unknown, straightened in her chair as the new arrival entered. She had no way of knowing who he was, but could tell from the posture of the two Alexandrians flanking him that they weren't sure if they were an escort or guards. A flash of movement from the crowd drew her eyes. Lord King's head had snapped up, and when 'Kuja of Treno' was announced, his hand visibly flexed, a swordfighter's reflex.
The Alexandrian court of 100 regarded the latest petitioner. He'd certainly dressed for the occasion, but beneath the foppish costume, his eyes were sweeping their ranks. One hand slid out of sight until his escort hissed at him, whereupon it returned empty. Hundreds of eyes tended to be intimidating for new arrivals, but if 'Kuja' was uneasy he did not display it.
Behind her and to her right, she could no longer hear various clanks from Capt. Adelbert Steiner, meaning he was standing still. Poised to strike? Odd.
Kuja's eyes swept the nobles again, before moving to King and Queen Alexandros. Garnet was in their shadow, but she rarely spoke when court was in session. He sank to one knee, a perfect courtier's bow.
"Your Majesties."
"Rise," the King commanded. The supplicant did so, meeting the King's eyes squarely with little deference. Beatrix let her hair fall across her face, staring through it with head bowed.
She'd heard the name, of course. 'Kuja', almost certainly an alias, had arrived in Treno some eight years earlier with no possessions other than the clothes he wore, not in itself an uncommon position. He'd begun hiring himself out as a sorcerer to the local street gangs, and had been decisive in several clashes. With demand rising for his services, he had raised his charges, and once he had enough money, began crafting magical items and selling them... weapons imbued with magical qualities such as durability or the ability to render an opponent asleep at a touch. Such items were a common feature of Treno's auctions, and he eventually gained the attention of some of the city's nobility. Once he became involved in the petty power struggles, demand for his services grew sharply, and there had been a bloody interval before Lord King had offered him a permanent position on his staff.
There were markedly fewer nobles in Treno than there had been eight years ago, and a great deal more street gangs.
King Alexandros allowed his stare to pierce the newcomer.
"I'm told you have a petition for us to consider?" The nobles straightened. Ordinarily, nowhere near the full hundred would have been present, but the play ensured that this newcomer would gain an audience. If the King turned him down, there was a possibility of an approach from another individual member.
Kuja swept his hair from his face. "I do. No doubt you've heard my reputation?"
Murmurs. The Royal Line was considered above petty politics, primarily because if they chose to play, backed by the Alexandrian army, smoking ruins multiplied quickly. The King had no reason to know who this man was, and implying otherwise could be seen as an insult. Admitting to being aware of the man could be seen as a sign of being insecure in power, while admitting ignorance was equally dangerous. At his lack of answer, Kuja smiled.
"Of course. My apologies. I deal in magics, lately employed by one Lord King, but I felt I might perhaps give you the opportunity to avail of my services, given certain... rumblings... among your nobles at the cost of this fine performance." Several Alexandrian guards shifted stance. Beatrix flicked her hair out of her face and spoke.
"Elaborate, please."
Kuja flicked his own hair. "Ah, the esteemed General Beatrix. Your reputation precedes you."
"Reputations usually do."
"Of course, and expand in the telling. I confess, I have wondered at the true extent of your capabilities."
Silence. Halfway to her hair, Beatrix snatched her hand down. A direct insult in open court.
"I'll be pleased to provide you with a demonstration if you feel it necessary..."
"Enough." The King. "If you have a proposal to make Kuja, speak it. The play begins shortly. And you would be wise to be a touch more polite in your delivery."
Kuja genuflected. "My apologies, Your Majesty. As I said, my talents are in magic and magical items, and I feel I may be of value to your court in some of its... more martial pursuits?"
"War?" Brahne spoke for the first time. She tended to avoid scrutiny when she could, but the single word had every noble's eyes back on Kuja, mining for his intentions.
The arms dealer smiled. "I had thought a general contract to equip your army. What you do with what I provide is of course entirely out of my hands."
"No doubt." The King sighed. "Kuja, I shall consider your offer, but I shall say now that the Alexandrian army is equipped enough as things stand to meet our needs. Please accept quarters in the palace while we formally reject your petition. And, while you're here, do try not to offend any more of my army."
Kuja genuflected again, with a calm smile. Possibly only Beatrix saw his fists unclench as he walked away, − a sorcerer's reflex. The King had been less than polite, but being of a martial disposition, he took issue with insults towards his army. If Kuja had been expecting benevolence, he had just made a serious mistake.
Brahne til Alexandros had always had a taste for theatre (she was famously difficult to impress), and she knew excellent acting when she saw it. Kuja would make trouble. For just an instant, his hands had sparkled with electricity – Brahne had been just about to step in front of Garnet when he turned away. The man was dangerous.
It was a sad fact that many in the court equated intelligence with beauty. Brahne til Alexandros was not conventionally beautiful, and therefore was worthy only of thinly veiled contempt. Politically, this could work to her advantage, backed by Beatrix and the King, but only with support. Centuries of inbreeding to preserve the royal line had left Brahne with a less than appealing visage, but one thing she did have was strength. Garnet had been born beautiful, but had had a weak chest from birth. Such was the curse of royalty, but Brahne had managed to find a genuinely loving husband through all the intrigue – once upon a time, he'd stepped in front of a Burmecian spear headed her way. Steiner had subsequently stepped in front of him, upon which point Beatrix cut the blade out of the air, but still.
The theatre ship was, of course, of high standard, and it took an alert onlooker to catch the whispered instructions during the fencing scenes. Looking around, it seemed the majority of the nobles were impressed, but Garnet and Kuja applauded most vehemently...up until the stage magic hit, and then the man's face curled into a sneer. Brahne, who was a passable white mage, had genuinely been impressed by the ingenuity of the SFX ... the very expensive special effects, but the look in Garnet's eyes was worth it all.
By the conclusion, she had entirely forgotten about their overdramatic petitioner.
Once Garnet bid them goodnight, Brahne followed her husband into the royal sitting room.
"Quite a show, wasn't it?"
The Queen smiled. "Oh yes. Garnet was most pleased."
"And you, Your Majesty?"
"Quite impressed, I must say. " She stepped past him, drew the curtains on the high arched windows, while he latched the privacy bolt on the door− the royal chamber had two locks, the privacy bolt to keep careless guards from wandering in, and a second lock which would allow the door to withstand siege weapons.
"Only quite? I was very impressed, although you did study drama. I can't allow you to be less than fully satisfied with the celebrations, can I?"
"And how, pray tell, do you propose to satisfy me further?"
King Alexandros' teeth flashed. "I shall reflect on the matter, Majesty, and present my conclusions shortly. The Princess would not wish you downhearted."
"No, she would not. What did you make of our visitor?"
"The arms dealer? Troubling. If we turn him down, he'll find other employment, but if we solicit his aid, my brother may feel compelled to take action."
Brahne's eyes narrowed. "Conflicted loyalties?"
The King lost his smile. "Brahne, I relinquished my Lindblumian Citizenship when I married you. I have yet to regret that decision, and I do not intend to begin now. Please, do not question my devotion to our nation."
"I- I'm sorry, Tharman. It's just...that weapons dealer, there's something ...slimy... in his manner. I worry."
"I understand. But now is not the night for such thoughts. We can worry about him tomorrow."
They turned at a noise from the fireplace. A candle had been knocked askew. And half a dozen people with knives were in the room.
Two of them darted toward the door and threw the heavy bolt across, while the others ran at the royals. Brahne took a light slash across the forearm, and the scream died in her throat. Silenced, she snarled at the assassin as he reached for a different knife, searching for a weapon of her own. Her husband reached for the sword he wore as three assassins charged him, knives jabbing. Blood spattered across the carpet as the King retreated, seeking space to draw. Brahne snatched off her crown and threw it at the stone floor, where it landed with a clatter.
"Majesty?" came the query from outside the door. "Is everything...alright?"
"Yes!" said the assassin nearest the door, in Brahne's voice! She was slightly breathless, yes, but that in itself would not arouse the guards' suspicion. "Everything's fi− Ungh!" This last as Brahne had lunged in sheer rage, her body carrying the assassin to the floor. Rising first, Brahne stamped hard on the assassin's throat, causing her to expire with a gurgle. Outside the door, blades were drawn.
Across the room, the King was backed against a wall, having finally managed to draw his sword. The next assassin to attack was greeted by the blade being driven through her stomach to the hilt. The dying woman took the blade with her as she fell, leaving the King unarmed once more. Another assassin hissed in rage and loss, lunging until his knife buried itself to the hilt in the King of Alexandria. But he'd come too close, and Tharman wrapped his arms around the man before he could draw back, picking him up and throwing him through the room's high arched window. The main door was now rattling in its frame, and only increased at the sound of breaking glass.
The remaining assassin menacing the king pulled back and suddenly vanished from sight, her blurred outline and a floating dagger the only things betraying her whereabouts. The King drew the knife out of his chest and took a stance, smiling through the blood. The two assassins facing Brahne hesitated between helping their comrade and finishing the queen, and Brahne took flight as both vanished from view. Hefting the cushioned couch, the Queen of Alexandria hurled it blindly across the room, where it landed on something unseen. The cushions protected the assassin beneath from serious injury, until the full weight of the Queen pressed the steel frame down and produced arterial spray from empty air. Another knife lunge sliced a furrow down the Queen's back as she regained her feet.
Climhazzard blasted the door to matchsticks, and the first assassin was dead before he knew someone else was there. The final man had been driven back towards the window by the King's furious counterattack, and on seeing Alexandria's general running at him, lowered his guard, allowing the King to step close for a thrust. Accepting the wound, the assassin wrapped his arms around the King, buckling his knees and carrying both of them through the remains of the window.
One of the King's hands caught on the sill, slowing his flight long enough for Brahne to seize it, until his full weight rested on her. Tharman til Alexandros met his wife's eyes and smiled.
"Take care of Garnet." And he let go. One of the knife wounds must have had a Petrify effect, because he was stone by the time he hit the cobbles below, and shattered to shards with Brahne's silent scream trailing in his wake.
Brahne looked back as a precautionary Esuna from her General washed over her.
"Garnet: Ring of Steel, Now."
She picked up a fallen knife. A stylised 'K' was carved into the hilt.
"Order the arrest of that arms dealer, charges of Treason and Regicide. There's no need to be gentle."
Beatrix nodded to the nearest guards. She made no move to leave.