Aphonion Tales (New posts 6/13, 6/15, 6/19)
- Thread starter Cerebral Paladin
- Start date
Cerebral Paladin
First Post
A short investigation identified who the traitor within the palace was: the chief dog trainer. He fit all of the descriptions, and Kit arranged to see him with the hounds and recognized him from the image in the reverend canon’s mind. They asked the Eldar if he would be willing to have his people capture the drow assassin when he would seek to make contact with the dog trainer, and the Eldar readily agreed. Kit pressed on the Eldar the need to be surreptitious to avoid tipping off the assassin, and while the Eldar seemed mostly confused by this idea, his gray elf captain readily agreed and assured her that he would take care of it.
As was becoming part of the daily routine, the Chancellor came in with a list of the additional nobles who had arrived, or were arriving presently, to attend the coronation. The Necropolis of Svanti had sent a representative. Dame Brionna expressed concern at a representative from a necropolis, but the Chancellor assured her that their emissary, though dead, was very nice about it. He had only recently noticed that he had died. Kalinshire also sent an ambassador, although really he was about the lowest ranked noble they could send without creating a diplomatic incident. The Chancellor explained that Kalinshire was having tensions on its border with the Duchy of Avery; with the differences of religion and so forth making matters even more delicate, and as the nobility of Kalinshire serve directly as the commanders of its army, it sought to avoid disrupting the high command any more than necessary in case open warfare broke out. The Duchy of Avery, for its part, sent a higher noble, apparently less concerned about any military consequences of his absence.
There were also three additional guests of note: a single male titan from the far north; a religious representative from Holy Cortose, the center of Syrtry’s temple, who they denominated an “observer;” and Lady Jane Peryton, from the extreme northern coast of Drucien, who hadn’t arrived yet because of delays related to the rebuilding in her lands after the eighteen-month battle that had recently concluded there. The Chancellor noted with a certain amount of pride that there would be an emissary from essentially every land on the continent and the most important realms of the other continents, with most of the emissaries nobles, and several actual rulers or other high figures. The Council thanked him, and he left to deal with the interminable logistical work all these guests created.
With the morning business concluded, they headed to Aunt Cecilia’s chambers for the lunch with the Princess of Gates. Kit ducked in, past rather more guards than she was used to in this wing of the palace, to say hello to Aunt Cecilia, then slipped through the secret door into the security passages within the walls, while Alistair and Dame Brionna entered and headed for the back of the antechamber that Cecilia had transformed into a formal receiving room. Princess Cecilia looked over her nephew with a critical eye, taking in the heavy, military cut tunic, the flashes of armor, the heavy coronet with spikes projecting down in a circle around his head, and the heavy, battle-tested bastard sword. She smiled approval. “The crazy old goose from Gates will think you look perfect, dear.” Alistair decided that it would be best not to comment on the old battlestandards and banners with which his Aunt had decorated her chambers; they had clearly been ironed for the occasion, but the creases from where they had been folded for many years in storage were still obvious.
Kit opened a mindlink to Dame Brionna and activated detect thoughts for Princess Cecilia and the guests. <<Well, if he's wearing that coronet, I guess we don't have to worry about the princess being too impressed with him...>>
<<It's to her taste.>> replied Dame Brionna. <<On the other hand, he can legitimately plead a headache.>>
As was becoming part of the daily routine, the Chancellor came in with a list of the additional nobles who had arrived, or were arriving presently, to attend the coronation. The Necropolis of Svanti had sent a representative. Dame Brionna expressed concern at a representative from a necropolis, but the Chancellor assured her that their emissary, though dead, was very nice about it. He had only recently noticed that he had died. Kalinshire also sent an ambassador, although really he was about the lowest ranked noble they could send without creating a diplomatic incident. The Chancellor explained that Kalinshire was having tensions on its border with the Duchy of Avery; with the differences of religion and so forth making matters even more delicate, and as the nobility of Kalinshire serve directly as the commanders of its army, it sought to avoid disrupting the high command any more than necessary in case open warfare broke out. The Duchy of Avery, for its part, sent a higher noble, apparently less concerned about any military consequences of his absence.
There were also three additional guests of note: a single male titan from the far north; a religious representative from Holy Cortose, the center of Syrtry’s temple, who they denominated an “observer;” and Lady Jane Peryton, from the extreme northern coast of Drucien, who hadn’t arrived yet because of delays related to the rebuilding in her lands after the eighteen-month battle that had recently concluded there. The Chancellor noted with a certain amount of pride that there would be an emissary from essentially every land on the continent and the most important realms of the other continents, with most of the emissaries nobles, and several actual rulers or other high figures. The Council thanked him, and he left to deal with the interminable logistical work all these guests created.
With the morning business concluded, they headed to Aunt Cecilia’s chambers for the lunch with the Princess of Gates. Kit ducked in, past rather more guards than she was used to in this wing of the palace, to say hello to Aunt Cecilia, then slipped through the secret door into the security passages within the walls, while Alistair and Dame Brionna entered and headed for the back of the antechamber that Cecilia had transformed into a formal receiving room. Princess Cecilia looked over her nephew with a critical eye, taking in the heavy, military cut tunic, the flashes of armor, the heavy coronet with spikes projecting down in a circle around his head, and the heavy, battle-tested bastard sword. She smiled approval. “The crazy old goose from Gates will think you look perfect, dear.” Alistair decided that it would be best not to comment on the old battlestandards and banners with which his Aunt had decorated her chambers; they had clearly been ironed for the occasion, but the creases from where they had been folded for many years in storage were still obvious.
Kit opened a mindlink to Dame Brionna and activated detect thoughts for Princess Cecilia and the guests. <<Well, if he's wearing that coronet, I guess we don't have to worry about the princess being too impressed with him...>>
<<It's to her taste.>> replied Dame Brionna. <<On the other hand, he can legitimately plead a headache.>>
Cerebral Paladin
First Post
Outside the chambers, the corridors rang with the sounds of challenges and counter-challenges. They could hear a muffled conversation between Cecilia’s chamberlain and the party of the Dowager Queen of Gates. The chamberlain directed most of the entourage to a side waiting room, before showing in the Queen, the Princess, their chaplain, and a single bodyguard, none with weapons larger than a short sword.
“Her Majesty, Queen Baryana of the Gates, and Princess Mirabelle!” cried the chamberlain.
The guests strode into the room, proud and measured, with the honor guard remaining at a remove by the door. The chaplain, princess, and queen stopped at an appropriate distance, and in ascending order of rank performed an incline of respect, each bending less than the one before. Alistair maintained a pleasant but neutral regard and responded appropriately, inclining slightly less even than the Queen of Gates-- giving them their due, but also making it clear that he did not consider them his equals.
From her hiding place, Kit reached out with her mind. There were no signs of treachery among the visitors from Gates, and in any event Princess Cecilia would surely have reacted if they intended Alistair harm. She scanned over the surface thoughts of each. The Queen was hopeful, but also slightly concerned. The chaplain, an older priest of Glor’diadel, had a strong will, and his mind was closed to Kit. As for Princess Mirabelle, she thought, “My goodness, he’s not as handsome as they said he was!” Kit had to stifle a laugh at that-- it must be the silly hat, she thought. But at least parts of Alistair’s reputation were still positive, although she wondered who “they” were.
[As Alistair’s player, when the DM said that I protested that Alistair had a modified Charisma of 20, and he said that he knew. Apparently, she had been told that he was ridiculously good looking.]
Princess Mirabelle approached and said formally, “Your eminent grace, we have brought you a token of the esteem of Gates, at this time of such importance to our people and our region.” She handed across a scabbarded bastard sword of enormously high quality. Alistair was almost positive that it was of dwarven-make, and likely intelligent as well. He began to extend his hand to accept it, but Dame Brionna stepped forward to intercept and received it for him.
“Perhaps your grace would like to hear its history before examining the blade itself?” suggested Dame Brionna. She frantically sent a message over the mindlink to Kit. <<Is it safe? Can we be sure that it isn’t a trap of some sort?>>
<<Aunt Cecilia isn’t bothered by it, so I’m pretty sure it’s not made of warpstone or that sort of trap. But… the sword is thinking. Not very well, but it is. I think... it's a baby? That's kinda cute. It likes the scabbard. We don't want it to start crying if it's taken out...>>
The Princess smiled at Dame Brionna’s suggestion, as if she had hoped to be asked about its history. “We have significant trade with an underkingdom of dwarves. We began forging this blade over a year ago, when we first heard that your grandmother was growing ill. It is truly a gift from both our peoples, because the steel and the mithril in the blade were from a lucky strike in a surface mine, while the skill in its forging was theirs.”
In her passageway, Kit slapped a hand over her mouth to stifle a laugh. Princess Cecilia had come within an inch of speaking her thought aloud: <<The old bat hasn’t changed a bit; now she has the girl trained.>>
<<Is it safe for him to hold? I’m just worried about mind control.>>
<<Yes. It's not powerful enough to exert any kind of control.>>
Alistair reached again for the sword, and Dame Brionna surrendered it this time. Alistair carefully held the scabbard and drew the sword part way, making it clear from his posture that he only wished to view the blade. He began speaking, addressing the sword itself. “You are a great weapon indeed, and I will be proud to carry you in battle, as will my descendants after me. Many years of glory await us.” The sword hummed in pleasure, glad to be acknowledged and treated with respect, and Alistair felt a warm presence in his mind. He carefully unhooked the sword he had worn from his baldric and passed it to Dame Brionna, before slinging the new sword at his side. Alistair looked up at Princess Mirabelle. “We thank you for this great gift. Truly, a worthy gift from one royal house to another.”
Kit heard Dame Brionna’s thoughts clearly. <<Oh, what a waste. Such a fine weapon, but Alistair won’t ever use it. It will simply sit in some vault, waiting for a different Archduke…>>
“Her Majesty, Queen Baryana of the Gates, and Princess Mirabelle!” cried the chamberlain.
The guests strode into the room, proud and measured, with the honor guard remaining at a remove by the door. The chaplain, princess, and queen stopped at an appropriate distance, and in ascending order of rank performed an incline of respect, each bending less than the one before. Alistair maintained a pleasant but neutral regard and responded appropriately, inclining slightly less even than the Queen of Gates-- giving them their due, but also making it clear that he did not consider them his equals.
From her hiding place, Kit reached out with her mind. There were no signs of treachery among the visitors from Gates, and in any event Princess Cecilia would surely have reacted if they intended Alistair harm. She scanned over the surface thoughts of each. The Queen was hopeful, but also slightly concerned. The chaplain, an older priest of Glor’diadel, had a strong will, and his mind was closed to Kit. As for Princess Mirabelle, she thought, “My goodness, he’s not as handsome as they said he was!” Kit had to stifle a laugh at that-- it must be the silly hat, she thought. But at least parts of Alistair’s reputation were still positive, although she wondered who “they” were.
[As Alistair’s player, when the DM said that I protested that Alistair had a modified Charisma of 20, and he said that he knew. Apparently, she had been told that he was ridiculously good looking.]
Princess Mirabelle approached and said formally, “Your eminent grace, we have brought you a token of the esteem of Gates, at this time of such importance to our people and our region.” She handed across a scabbarded bastard sword of enormously high quality. Alistair was almost positive that it was of dwarven-make, and likely intelligent as well. He began to extend his hand to accept it, but Dame Brionna stepped forward to intercept and received it for him.
“Perhaps your grace would like to hear its history before examining the blade itself?” suggested Dame Brionna. She frantically sent a message over the mindlink to Kit. <<Is it safe? Can we be sure that it isn’t a trap of some sort?>>
<<Aunt Cecilia isn’t bothered by it, so I’m pretty sure it’s not made of warpstone or that sort of trap. But… the sword is thinking. Not very well, but it is. I think... it's a baby? That's kinda cute. It likes the scabbard. We don't want it to start crying if it's taken out...>>
The Princess smiled at Dame Brionna’s suggestion, as if she had hoped to be asked about its history. “We have significant trade with an underkingdom of dwarves. We began forging this blade over a year ago, when we first heard that your grandmother was growing ill. It is truly a gift from both our peoples, because the steel and the mithril in the blade were from a lucky strike in a surface mine, while the skill in its forging was theirs.”
In her passageway, Kit slapped a hand over her mouth to stifle a laugh. Princess Cecilia had come within an inch of speaking her thought aloud: <<The old bat hasn’t changed a bit; now she has the girl trained.>>
<<Is it safe for him to hold? I’m just worried about mind control.>>
<<Yes. It's not powerful enough to exert any kind of control.>>
Alistair reached again for the sword, and Dame Brionna surrendered it this time. Alistair carefully held the scabbard and drew the sword part way, making it clear from his posture that he only wished to view the blade. He began speaking, addressing the sword itself. “You are a great weapon indeed, and I will be proud to carry you in battle, as will my descendants after me. Many years of glory await us.” The sword hummed in pleasure, glad to be acknowledged and treated with respect, and Alistair felt a warm presence in his mind. He carefully unhooked the sword he had worn from his baldric and passed it to Dame Brionna, before slinging the new sword at his side. Alistair looked up at Princess Mirabelle. “We thank you for this great gift. Truly, a worthy gift from one royal house to another.”
Kit heard Dame Brionna’s thoughts clearly. <<Oh, what a waste. Such a fine weapon, but Alistair won’t ever use it. It will simply sit in some vault, waiting for a different Archduke…>>
Cerebral Paladin
First Post
With the formalities taken care of, Princess Cecilia lead them all into a formal dining room. Alistair carefully looked over the royal party. Both the Queen and the Princess were dressed in the most formal of gowns. Their clothing was beautiful, and the jewelry both ornate and expensive. Their raiment was somewhat old-fashioned, however; the Queen’s style was not too unusual for a lady of her age, but her daughter was dressed in a similarly old-fashioned style, despite her obvious youth. The princess was pretty and vivacious, although not nearly as beautiful as someone like Kit. Alistair judged that she was probably about as attractive a woman as he was as a man, without the benefit of magic. She was slight of build, almost boyishly slender, with straight blonde hair held in place by weapon hair-pins, probably an honor dagger and its mate. Her blue eyes darted about the room, carefully taking everything in with a practiced look. At a guess, she seemed very bright, although also young, and while she did not exactly seem nervous, neither did she seem completely comfortable. The Princess carried no other weapons besides her hair-pins openly, and concealed weapons were most unlikely. In contrast, her mother wore many small weapons, including a short sword-- she had probably served in the military as an officer for a while.
In the early phases of the dinner, the chaperones dominated the conversation, mixing banalities and the news of the day. The Queen commented on the noble palace that disappeared the other night, but Princess Cecilia waived her hand dismissively-- it was an eyesore, anyway, and she was glad to see it go. The only briefly worrisome bit was when Princess Cecilia almost gestured towards Kit, hidden in the passageways behind the walls.
Kit sighed mentally to Dame Brionna. <<Aunt Cecilia was this close to pointing to me. Thank you, Aunt Cecilia, for pointing out the secret location of the Spymaster.>>
<<Oh dear. We really need a new Imperial Matron.>>
<<Yeah, we do.>>
<<Well, and no one knows you're the Spymaster, but everyone knows you're Alistair’s companion, and that's disastrous here.>>
<<Yeah.>>
As the meal progressed, the servants brought out ever grander dishes, such as whole roast pig split at the table. Carefully and cautiously, Princess Mirabelle and Alistair began talking.
“Your grace, they tell me that you traveled widely before your grandmother passed.”
“Yes, I toured much of Drucien. It was a marvelous experience.” He smiled a little sadly. “I wish I could have spent more time traveling, still, but when my grandmother’s health started failing, duty required me here.”
The Princess nodded understandingly. “I envy you for being able to do it at all. And adventuring is a good way for a man to start out, even if eventually other responsibilities interfere. Did you have many exciting adventures?”
“Indeed. While we were in the North, we mostly concentrated on fighting slavery. But then once news reached us of my father’s death and my grandmother’s failing health, we mostly concentrated on getting past the assassins to make it back to Canberry. But even then, we worked to continue my family’s efforts against the slavers.”
“Did Mother tell you they got some people out of Gates as well? A few months ago-- they spread a great deal of money around, and purchased nearly two dozen young people, probably for sacrifice. It’s all very morbid.”
“We hadn’t heard about their operations in Gates, but we know of the kidnappings of young people for sacrifice. I assume that the victims were targeted because of elven blood? That was really the first part of their conspiracy that we noticed, when we were rescuing children in Enclaves-- the first sign that it was even worse than the normal slave-taking. There’s still more to be done, of course, but we’ve put a serious hurt on their efforts.”
“It’s all so unpleasant.” Princess Mirabelle shook her head, and really her whole upper body, as if to shake the unwanted thoughts out of her mind. Alistair found the effect quite fetching, although it worried Dame Brionna: a monarch, even a consort, would need to be willing to address unpleasant things directly. “Did you have to kill many people on your adventures?”
In the early phases of the dinner, the chaperones dominated the conversation, mixing banalities and the news of the day. The Queen commented on the noble palace that disappeared the other night, but Princess Cecilia waived her hand dismissively-- it was an eyesore, anyway, and she was glad to see it go. The only briefly worrisome bit was when Princess Cecilia almost gestured towards Kit, hidden in the passageways behind the walls.
Kit sighed mentally to Dame Brionna. <<Aunt Cecilia was this close to pointing to me. Thank you, Aunt Cecilia, for pointing out the secret location of the Spymaster.>>
<<Oh dear. We really need a new Imperial Matron.>>
<<Yeah, we do.>>
<<Well, and no one knows you're the Spymaster, but everyone knows you're Alistair’s companion, and that's disastrous here.>>
<<Yeah.>>
As the meal progressed, the servants brought out ever grander dishes, such as whole roast pig split at the table. Carefully and cautiously, Princess Mirabelle and Alistair began talking.
“Your grace, they tell me that you traveled widely before your grandmother passed.”
“Yes, I toured much of Drucien. It was a marvelous experience.” He smiled a little sadly. “I wish I could have spent more time traveling, still, but when my grandmother’s health started failing, duty required me here.”
The Princess nodded understandingly. “I envy you for being able to do it at all. And adventuring is a good way for a man to start out, even if eventually other responsibilities interfere. Did you have many exciting adventures?”
“Indeed. While we were in the North, we mostly concentrated on fighting slavery. But then once news reached us of my father’s death and my grandmother’s failing health, we mostly concentrated on getting past the assassins to make it back to Canberry. But even then, we worked to continue my family’s efforts against the slavers.”
“Did Mother tell you they got some people out of Gates as well? A few months ago-- they spread a great deal of money around, and purchased nearly two dozen young people, probably for sacrifice. It’s all very morbid.”
“We hadn’t heard about their operations in Gates, but we know of the kidnappings of young people for sacrifice. I assume that the victims were targeted because of elven blood? That was really the first part of their conspiracy that we noticed, when we were rescuing children in Enclaves-- the first sign that it was even worse than the normal slave-taking. There’s still more to be done, of course, but we’ve put a serious hurt on their efforts.”
“It’s all so unpleasant.” Princess Mirabelle shook her head, and really her whole upper body, as if to shake the unwanted thoughts out of her mind. Alistair found the effect quite fetching, although it worried Dame Brionna: a monarch, even a consort, would need to be willing to address unpleasant things directly. “Did you have to kill many people on your adventures?”
Baron Opal
First Post
"Yes, but they were all bad..."
Ladybird
First Post
Hey folks! Cerebral Paladin is having some computer problems, so he's asked me to post the next installment. He's still the one who wrote it; I'm just doing the posting 
Enjoy!
--
Alistair looked at the Princess for a moment. Her face was very guarded, and he knew that his answer to this question would make a huge difference. But he couldn’t quite tell what answer she was looking for-- did she want a peaceful response as her phrasing implied, avoiding the unpleasant realities of adventuring, or did she want Alistair covered with blood and glory, as might be expected from a princess of Gates? Alistair held up his hand, asking for a moment’s delay while he chewed a bite.
A sending from Kit cut into his thoughts. <<Play the killing down! She’s scared of your reputation-- she’s heard more lies about you.>>
“I’ve had to kill some, when it was necessary-- drow slavers and some ratmen assassins. It’s not what I would wish, but sometimes there is no choice.”
Kit relaxed at that answer: Princess Mirabelle’s relief was obvious. Kit also resolved to look into this new set of rumors, as well-- Mirabelle gave no indications of having heard the rumors of mistreatment of women, but she had heard that Alistair and a merry band had taken down a small barony. That was true enough, she supposed, but the version Mirabelle had heard omitted the fact that they had only killed a werewolf lord who had usurped and murdered the rightful rulers. Instead, the story had Alistair and his raiders slaughtering the whole noble family, even putting the infant children to the sword.
“Ratmen, your grace? We have faced their depredations as well. A small group of them destroyed the grain harvest in East Gate. We had to institute new measures to prevent further attacks and to avoid starvation. How any thinking being could destroy a grain harvest I don’t understand.”
“They think very differently from how we do. It comes from their close association with demons and chaos lords, I think.”
“Anna said they could be redeemed.”
“Anna, your highness?” asked Dame Brionna.
Mirabelle paused for a moment as pain crossed her features. “She passed, I’m afraid. She was my twin sister.”
With the additional prompt, Alistair remembered having heard that Princess Mirabelle had had a sister, only younger by hours, with a defect in her foot. She was rumored to have died about 11 months earlier, although Gates had never made an official statement.
“I’m very sorry for your loss, your highness. I’ve had a very difficult time with the loss of my father and grandmother-- I can only imagine what your loss, so much more unexpected, would have been like.”
“Thank you, your grace.” She paused for a moment, clearly looking for a way to change the subject.
<<Ask her about her own military service. There's something there... she's tried it but doesn't feel that it's right for her? Or maybe hasn't tried fighting at all?>>
Dame Brionna gamely asked, “Do you have any hobbies or pursuits?”
“Jewel-setting is my only real hobby-- I studied at the Royal Jewelry Guild of my family,” she said with a certain amount of pride, gesturing at one of her rings. “Trade in precious metals and gems is vital to our prosperity, so I thought it would help the family, but I believe I have some skill. And then I have studied strategy.”
“Your craftsmanship is most impressive, your highness. That setting is beautiful, as befits a beauty such as yourself.”
Enjoy!--
Alistair looked at the Princess for a moment. Her face was very guarded, and he knew that his answer to this question would make a huge difference. But he couldn’t quite tell what answer she was looking for-- did she want a peaceful response as her phrasing implied, avoiding the unpleasant realities of adventuring, or did she want Alistair covered with blood and glory, as might be expected from a princess of Gates? Alistair held up his hand, asking for a moment’s delay while he chewed a bite.
A sending from Kit cut into his thoughts. <<Play the killing down! She’s scared of your reputation-- she’s heard more lies about you.>>
“I’ve had to kill some, when it was necessary-- drow slavers and some ratmen assassins. It’s not what I would wish, but sometimes there is no choice.”
Kit relaxed at that answer: Princess Mirabelle’s relief was obvious. Kit also resolved to look into this new set of rumors, as well-- Mirabelle gave no indications of having heard the rumors of mistreatment of women, but she had heard that Alistair and a merry band had taken down a small barony. That was true enough, she supposed, but the version Mirabelle had heard omitted the fact that they had only killed a werewolf lord who had usurped and murdered the rightful rulers. Instead, the story had Alistair and his raiders slaughtering the whole noble family, even putting the infant children to the sword.
“Ratmen, your grace? We have faced their depredations as well. A small group of them destroyed the grain harvest in East Gate. We had to institute new measures to prevent further attacks and to avoid starvation. How any thinking being could destroy a grain harvest I don’t understand.”
“They think very differently from how we do. It comes from their close association with demons and chaos lords, I think.”
“Anna said they could be redeemed.”
“Anna, your highness?” asked Dame Brionna.
Mirabelle paused for a moment as pain crossed her features. “She passed, I’m afraid. She was my twin sister.”
With the additional prompt, Alistair remembered having heard that Princess Mirabelle had had a sister, only younger by hours, with a defect in her foot. She was rumored to have died about 11 months earlier, although Gates had never made an official statement.
“I’m very sorry for your loss, your highness. I’ve had a very difficult time with the loss of my father and grandmother-- I can only imagine what your loss, so much more unexpected, would have been like.”
“Thank you, your grace.” She paused for a moment, clearly looking for a way to change the subject.
<<Ask her about her own military service. There's something there... she's tried it but doesn't feel that it's right for her? Or maybe hasn't tried fighting at all?>>
Dame Brionna gamely asked, “Do you have any hobbies or pursuits?”
“Jewel-setting is my only real hobby-- I studied at the Royal Jewelry Guild of my family,” she said with a certain amount of pride, gesturing at one of her rings. “Trade in precious metals and gems is vital to our prosperity, so I thought it would help the family, but I believe I have some skill. And then I have studied strategy.”
“Your craftsmanship is most impressive, your highness. That setting is beautiful, as befits a beauty such as yourself.”
Cerebral Paladin
First Post
The Princess smiled and reddened slightly. “You do me too much honor, your grace. And you are very forthright and direct, but I suppose I should have guessed that from your adventures.”
“Yes, my family can be very direct at times.”
<<Oh no, that makes it sound like he's about to kiss her,>> thought Dame Brionna.
Kit agreed, but was a little reassured when Alistair simply looked at her meaningfully, and then asked another question. “You mentioned studying strategy, your highness?”
“Yes, especially military history and strategy. I hope to find a method where we can fight, but with less loss of life.” She thought for a moment for a good example of what she meant. “Do you know that the Duchy of Avery and Kalinshire are on the verge of war?”
“Yes, of course.”
“Do you know why?”
“Only in the broadest sense. I know that there are border disputes, and I know that they are traditional enemies.”
“Both true, but the reason is that Avery is too land-poor. Oh, they have much land, but very little of it is arable, whereas Kalinshire has the best farmland in the region, at the river delta. And so inevitably Avery’s population grows until they cannot feed them all. And then the Duchy launches another war.”
“To take Kalinshire’s farmlands.”
“Yes, but you see, they accomplish their goals whether they win or lose. If they win, they would take the farmland they need. And if they lose… their problem stems from excess population. A losing war does a great deal to reduce that problem, horrible as it is to contemplate. There are many similar situations: around the Forest of Screams and in the Broken Lands Confederation. I study strategy so I can understand how to prevent similar things.” Princess Mirabelle paused and looked down sadly. “I’m sorry, your grace. I didn’t mean to talk about such unfortunate matters. Perhaps we could discuss something nicer?”
Kit grudgingly thought to Dame Brionna, <<All right, she's smart, I'll give her that...>>
<<Well, she certainly has useful skills.>>
“Yes, my family can be very direct at times.”
<<Oh no, that makes it sound like he's about to kiss her,>> thought Dame Brionna.
Kit agreed, but was a little reassured when Alistair simply looked at her meaningfully, and then asked another question. “You mentioned studying strategy, your highness?”
“Yes, especially military history and strategy. I hope to find a method where we can fight, but with less loss of life.” She thought for a moment for a good example of what she meant. “Do you know that the Duchy of Avery and Kalinshire are on the verge of war?”
“Yes, of course.”
“Do you know why?”
“Only in the broadest sense. I know that there are border disputes, and I know that they are traditional enemies.”
“Both true, but the reason is that Avery is too land-poor. Oh, they have much land, but very little of it is arable, whereas Kalinshire has the best farmland in the region, at the river delta. And so inevitably Avery’s population grows until they cannot feed them all. And then the Duchy launches another war.”
“To take Kalinshire’s farmlands.”
“Yes, but you see, they accomplish their goals whether they win or lose. If they win, they would take the farmland they need. And if they lose… their problem stems from excess population. A losing war does a great deal to reduce that problem, horrible as it is to contemplate. There are many similar situations: around the Forest of Screams and in the Broken Lands Confederation. I study strategy so I can understand how to prevent similar things.” Princess Mirabelle paused and looked down sadly. “I’m sorry, your grace. I didn’t mean to talk about such unfortunate matters. Perhaps we could discuss something nicer?”
Kit grudgingly thought to Dame Brionna, <<All right, she's smart, I'll give her that...>>
<<Well, she certainly has useful skills.>>
Cerebral Paladin
First Post
Princess Cecilia’s servants whisked away the plates from the meal. As they rose from the table, the Queen of Gates began to turn her attention away from her conversation with Princess Cecilia, but Alistair’s aunt knew that he would want more time to talk with Mirabelle. “Your majesty, let me show you my needlepoint.” Cecilia took the Queen’s elbow firmly and led her to one of the other chambers in the suite, resolutely ignoring the somewhat stricken look the suggestion had produced. The guard looked back and forth between Mirabelle and the Queen for several seconds, before finally deciding that he was technically the Queen’s bodyguard and should accompany her.
<<Wow. That was unsubtle, even for Aunt Cecilia.>>
Dame Brionna desperately thought back, <<Must keep a straight face. Don’t make me laugh!>>
<<Sorry.>>
“Do you have an interest in art besides jewelry, your highness?”
“Of course, your grace.”
“Perhaps you would like to visit our portrait gallery? It has many of the finest works on Drucien.”
“I would love to, your grace.”
<<Don’t worry,>> Kit sent to Dame Brionna. <<I know the passages that lead to the portrait gallery.>>
<<Yell if you need me.>>
Alistair looked meaningfully at Dame Brionna and raised an eyebrow. She cleared her throat. “If you will excuse me, your grace, there are some matters with the Guard that I should take care of, now that dinner has concluded. Your reverence, perhaps you would be interested in meeting with Bishop Hoggsworthy, the Palace Chaplain? I’m sure he would be most happy to speak with a fellow Glor’diadelian royal chaplain.”
“That would be fine, of course, but… ah… I’m not sure if I should…”
While the chaplain searched for a way to delicately suggest that it might not be proper to leave the two young suitors alone together without impugning either of their honors, Alistair pressed the point. “Oh, but you must, your reverence. His Excellence is most interested in ensuring effective cooperation with our coreligionists, and that takes regular contact between the clergy as well as the nobility, you know. Dame Brionna could take you to his chambers on the way to attending to her duties.”
Princess Mirabelle nodded. “You really should, your reverence. After all, the point of this dinner is to strengthen our ties to Canberry. Meeting with the Bishop will help you do your part.”
“But… That is…” The priest’s shoulders slumped in defeat. He couldn’t very well refuse what was close to a command from the princess, and he would simply have to hope that the Dowager Queen would not be too upset with him for leaving the princess and the Archduke alone together. “Yes, your highness.”
<<Oh, Brionna! That poor man doesn’t deserve Bishop Hoggsworthy!>>
<<It was all I could think of!>>
<<It’s alright. I just feel bad for him.>>
Alistair held out his arm to Princess Mirabelle, and she gently laid her arm on top of his. They set off for the portrait gallery, gradually edging closer together after they were out of sight of the priest. Dame Brionna dropped the chaplain off with Bishop Hoggsworthy and quickly looped around to join Kit in the secret passageways through the art gallery.
<<Wow. That was unsubtle, even for Aunt Cecilia.>>
Dame Brionna desperately thought back, <<Must keep a straight face. Don’t make me laugh!>>
<<Sorry.>>
“Do you have an interest in art besides jewelry, your highness?”
“Of course, your grace.”
“Perhaps you would like to visit our portrait gallery? It has many of the finest works on Drucien.”
“I would love to, your grace.”
<<Don’t worry,>> Kit sent to Dame Brionna. <<I know the passages that lead to the portrait gallery.>>
<<Yell if you need me.>>
Alistair looked meaningfully at Dame Brionna and raised an eyebrow. She cleared her throat. “If you will excuse me, your grace, there are some matters with the Guard that I should take care of, now that dinner has concluded. Your reverence, perhaps you would be interested in meeting with Bishop Hoggsworthy, the Palace Chaplain? I’m sure he would be most happy to speak with a fellow Glor’diadelian royal chaplain.”
“That would be fine, of course, but… ah… I’m not sure if I should…”
While the chaplain searched for a way to delicately suggest that it might not be proper to leave the two young suitors alone together without impugning either of their honors, Alistair pressed the point. “Oh, but you must, your reverence. His Excellence is most interested in ensuring effective cooperation with our coreligionists, and that takes regular contact between the clergy as well as the nobility, you know. Dame Brionna could take you to his chambers on the way to attending to her duties.”
Princess Mirabelle nodded. “You really should, your reverence. After all, the point of this dinner is to strengthen our ties to Canberry. Meeting with the Bishop will help you do your part.”
“But… That is…” The priest’s shoulders slumped in defeat. He couldn’t very well refuse what was close to a command from the princess, and he would simply have to hope that the Dowager Queen would not be too upset with him for leaving the princess and the Archduke alone together. “Yes, your highness.”
<<Oh, Brionna! That poor man doesn’t deserve Bishop Hoggsworthy!>>
<<It was all I could think of!>>
<<It’s alright. I just feel bad for him.>>
Alistair held out his arm to Princess Mirabelle, and she gently laid her arm on top of his. They set off for the portrait gallery, gradually edging closer together after they were out of sight of the priest. Dame Brionna dropped the chaplain off with Bishop Hoggsworthy and quickly looped around to join Kit in the secret passageways through the art gallery.
Cerebral Paladin
First Post
Alistair and Mirabelle made their way among the paintings, concentrating on ones that were by artists of Gates or depicted people or events involving the Cities of the Gates. Mirabelle demonstrated that she was, indeed, well-versed in art and possessed of good taste, while Alistair showed off some of his own knowledge and much greater familiarity with the collection.
Kit could read Mirabelle’s thoughts as the Princess gradually grew more impressed with Alistair and relaxed, realizing that there was more to him than a warrior and that he did not seem like the savage killer he was rumored to be. But Kit worried more about a strange pattern in Mirabelle’s mind rather than what she was thinking. It was like there was a second mind, riding along.
Princess Mirabelle smiled up at Alistair. “You are a very interesting person, your grace.”
“Not half as interesting as you are, your highness.”
Dame Brionna rolled her eyes to Kit in the passageway.
<<Well, yeah, actually, in a technical sense. If she's actually two people, then she is twice as interesting as he is.>>
Alistair and Mirabelle made their way to one of the plush couches in an alcove in the gallery and began kissing.
<<Do I need to interrupt?>> asked Dame Brionna.
<<Not yet.>>
<<Is she safe?>>
<<Yes. There is something weird about her mind, but she isn’t a threat. Brionna - I'm going to drop for a second. I'll be back.>>
Kit reached out with her mind, trying and failing to reach the second mind along with the Princess. After a moment’s thought, however, she tried reaching out to the idea of Anna and suddenly found that the connection was clean and clear. In fact, when she read Anna’s mind, she realized that the entire identity of Mirabelle was a lie. The elder twin and heir-apparent had died, killed in action leading one of the Gates armies, not Anna, but the Dowager Queen had decided that that was unacceptable. So Anna had been forced to become Mirabelle, denying her own existence and acting as her sister. The princess had no doubt that her mother would have viewed the whole situation as much easier if she had been the one who had died, but there was no choice but to carry on in her new identity. While Kit recoiled in horror at the idea of how the Princess’s family had treated her, she began watching with her eyes again instead of just her mind, and she found a new reason to be horrified.
Alistair and Mirabelle were enthusiastically making out on the couch. With rising distaste and anger, Kit realized that Alistair had clearly decided to seduce Mirabelle-Anna, and that the Princess, while nervous and trepidatious, was entirely willing to be seduced. Kit sent an angry mental message to Alistair-- <<No more succession crises! Use protection, damn you!>>-- and then grew even more angry as Alistair ignored her message and blithely carried on.
Dame Brionna looked questioningly at Kit. “So we’re just watching this?” She could arrange for a patrol to interrupt them, but she knew that Alistair would not want her to, and even though he had not left any specific orders, he was her liege-lord. Besides, the diplomatic fall-out could be disastrous.
“I think I’ve concluded there’s no security risk here.”
“I haven’t.”
“Fine, you can watch,” whispered Kit bitterly, before turning and walking away.
<<I’m staying. I have to.>> Dame Brionna’s thoughts felt apologetic.
<<I know. There are limits even to my job, though,>> sent back Kit, softening her mental tone-- it wasn’t Brionna she was furious at.
A few minutes later, she received another thought. <<Oh dear, I hope she wasn't a virgin.>>
<<I think she was. She seemed really inexperienced.>>
<<Does he have no self-control?>>
<<No, he doesn't.>>
Alistair and Mirabelle quietly talked and embraced afterwards. Finally, Alistair said, “We had best return to Aunt Cecilia’s rooms. It wouldn’t do for people to start worrying about our absence.”
Mirabelle nodded and began doing her best to rearrange her gown. Worry crossed her face as she realized just how disheveled they had gotten, but Alistair smiled and waved his hands, singing softly. Moments later, the prestidigitation had restored them to respectability. He offered her his arm and escorted the princess back.
Kit could read Mirabelle’s thoughts as the Princess gradually grew more impressed with Alistair and relaxed, realizing that there was more to him than a warrior and that he did not seem like the savage killer he was rumored to be. But Kit worried more about a strange pattern in Mirabelle’s mind rather than what she was thinking. It was like there was a second mind, riding along.
Princess Mirabelle smiled up at Alistair. “You are a very interesting person, your grace.”
“Not half as interesting as you are, your highness.”
Dame Brionna rolled her eyes to Kit in the passageway.
<<Well, yeah, actually, in a technical sense. If she's actually two people, then she is twice as interesting as he is.>>
Alistair and Mirabelle made their way to one of the plush couches in an alcove in the gallery and began kissing.
<<Do I need to interrupt?>> asked Dame Brionna.
<<Not yet.>>
<<Is she safe?>>
<<Yes. There is something weird about her mind, but she isn’t a threat. Brionna - I'm going to drop for a second. I'll be back.>>
Kit reached out with her mind, trying and failing to reach the second mind along with the Princess. After a moment’s thought, however, she tried reaching out to the idea of Anna and suddenly found that the connection was clean and clear. In fact, when she read Anna’s mind, she realized that the entire identity of Mirabelle was a lie. The elder twin and heir-apparent had died, killed in action leading one of the Gates armies, not Anna, but the Dowager Queen had decided that that was unacceptable. So Anna had been forced to become Mirabelle, denying her own existence and acting as her sister. The princess had no doubt that her mother would have viewed the whole situation as much easier if she had been the one who had died, but there was no choice but to carry on in her new identity. While Kit recoiled in horror at the idea of how the Princess’s family had treated her, she began watching with her eyes again instead of just her mind, and she found a new reason to be horrified.
Alistair and Mirabelle were enthusiastically making out on the couch. With rising distaste and anger, Kit realized that Alistair had clearly decided to seduce Mirabelle-Anna, and that the Princess, while nervous and trepidatious, was entirely willing to be seduced. Kit sent an angry mental message to Alistair-- <<No more succession crises! Use protection, damn you!>>-- and then grew even more angry as Alistair ignored her message and blithely carried on.
Dame Brionna looked questioningly at Kit. “So we’re just watching this?” She could arrange for a patrol to interrupt them, but she knew that Alistair would not want her to, and even though he had not left any specific orders, he was her liege-lord. Besides, the diplomatic fall-out could be disastrous.
“I think I’ve concluded there’s no security risk here.”
“I haven’t.”
“Fine, you can watch,” whispered Kit bitterly, before turning and walking away.
<<I’m staying. I have to.>> Dame Brionna’s thoughts felt apologetic.
<<I know. There are limits even to my job, though,>> sent back Kit, softening her mental tone-- it wasn’t Brionna she was furious at.
A few minutes later, she received another thought. <<Oh dear, I hope she wasn't a virgin.>>
<<I think she was. She seemed really inexperienced.>>
<<Does he have no self-control?>>
<<No, he doesn't.>>
Alistair and Mirabelle quietly talked and embraced afterwards. Finally, Alistair said, “We had best return to Aunt Cecilia’s rooms. It wouldn’t do for people to start worrying about our absence.”
Mirabelle nodded and began doing her best to rearrange her gown. Worry crossed her face as she realized just how disheveled they had gotten, but Alistair smiled and waved his hands, singing softly. Moments later, the prestidigitation had restored them to respectability. He offered her his arm and escorted the princess back.
Cerebral Paladin
First Post
They returned just as the Dowager Queen was finishing a nigh-interminable examination of hundreds of pieces of needlework, embroidery, and other courtly arts. Alistair noted with equanimity the cold and angry expressions on Dame Brionna and Kit’s faces, but the Queen was so happy to finally be able to take her leave of Princess Cecilia that she neither noticed the flustered expression on her daughter’s face nor thought to ask who had been chaperoning them. Princess Cecilia looked at Alistair with a resigned expression, and he suddenly worried that she would say something tremendously awkward, but she only said “Well, I’m glad that’s done with; was the gallery nice, dear?”
“It was lovely, Aunt Cecilia,” replied Alistair, sharing a small smile with Mirabelle and ignoring the renewed glare this provoked from Kit.
The Dowager Queen took her leave from Aunt Cecilia, and Alistair escorted Mirabelle to the door to the chambers, stopping to kiss her hand and promising her that they would see each other soon before she left.
As soon as the door closed, Kit opened her mouth, but Dame Brionna quickly held up a hand. “Wait, Kit-- make sure that the Queen is out of earshot before you say anything.
Kit snapped her mouth shut and just glared for a minute or two.
Dame Brionna looked at Princess Cecilia. “May I ask what you thought of her, your highness?”
“Oh, she’s a dear. I think she would make a quite pliant wife. The old bat, on the other hand, at least I can talk her under the table. And he’s not marrying her.” The Princess looked around at the two knights and Alistair. “I should retire to a private chamber. I’m tired, and I think you young people have some things to discuss.”
Kit looked at Dame Brionna, who nodded this time, and then began yelling at Alistair. “How could you? I’d ask what you were thinking, but you clearly weren’t!”
Alistair spoke in smooth low tones, trying without much success to placate Kit, “I’m sorry, Kit, but I was trying to win her over completely. If we decide that a marriage alliance with Gates is desirable, I’m sure Mirabelle will push for it now, and would pressure her family to agree to annexation in the process.”
“You mean Anna,” spat out Kit.
“What?”
“Anna, not Mirabelle. Mirabelle was the older twin, but she died… their family insisted that Anna take her place.” Kit turned her back on Alistair, but continued yelling at him over her shoulder. “I’m not angry for myself-- I know you haven’t made me any promises-- but how could you do that to that poor girl? She’s confused and being forced by her family to be the better loved sister because they wish she had died instead, and then you took advantage of her.”
“Kit… I had no idea. I didn’t know any of that.”
“You knew that her sister-- her twin sister! -- had died less than a year ago.”
“That’s true, but I also have lost close family members in the last year. Not a twin, but my father and my grandmother, and even the memory of my mother. And being with you helped me a great deal. I had no reason to know that her situation was different.”
Kit refused to even answer that, keeping her back turned. But Dame Brionna was happy to continue the scolding. “But your grace, think about what a horrible mess you’ve made diplomatically. She was a virgin! And her family is very traditional and militaristic. What if her brother challenges you to a duel? Or even just denounces you for shaming Canberry?”
“We already know that they care more about appearances than about any actual sense of honor. If they didn’t, they wouldn’t have forced Anna to pose as Mirabelle. So even if they find out-- which I don’t think they will-- they won’t make a public scandal out of it.”
“Oh, wonderful, your grace. We’ll just have to deal with a neighbor who hates us and wants revenge, but seeks that revenge through assassins, skullduggery, and political intransigence instead of open challenges or wars. You’re right, that’s much better.”
“Yeah, we can have seething hatred simmering below the surface with a neighbor for years this way. Besides, what if you knocked her up? Did you even think about that? Somehow, I don’t think her family could miss that. This was supposed to be the last succession crisis…”
“She won’t get pregnant, Kit. A ‘block’ has been placed on me to prevent any pregnancies. Goodwife Burleytoes assures me that I don’t need to worry about that, but that it will dissolve naturally within three or four months, so that there will not be any problems producing legitimate heirs after I marry.”
Kit paused at that, and Dame Brionna grudgingly nodded confirmation. I guess those herbs the Manumistian priestess gave me aren’t necessary then… and that I don’t have to worry about them failing, Kit thought as she took in the new information. “But that only makes it a little better-- you’ve still taken a very fragile girl and set her up to be hurt even further. She’ll finally think she’s found someone who cares for her, instead of just making her a substitute for her sister, and you’ll send her the message that she’s just a meaningless toss.”
“I already told you, I didn’t understand how serious her issues were. I thought that Canberry needed the leverage… which is cruel, but I have to think that way. And I wasn’t trying to hurt her-- I was also doing what she wanted…”
“No, you were doing what you wanted!” Kit stormed out of Princess Cecilia’s chambers, slamming the door behind her.
Alistair went to the door and called after her, “I’m sorry you think that…” But he had the sense to not follow. Better to let the situation cool down before trying to fix it.
Dame Brionna shook her head, a mix of disappointment and disgust on her face. “We’d best get back to your chambers, your grace. We still have a meeting with the Minister of the Mind scheduled for later today.”
“It was lovely, Aunt Cecilia,” replied Alistair, sharing a small smile with Mirabelle and ignoring the renewed glare this provoked from Kit.
The Dowager Queen took her leave from Aunt Cecilia, and Alistair escorted Mirabelle to the door to the chambers, stopping to kiss her hand and promising her that they would see each other soon before she left.
As soon as the door closed, Kit opened her mouth, but Dame Brionna quickly held up a hand. “Wait, Kit-- make sure that the Queen is out of earshot before you say anything.
Kit snapped her mouth shut and just glared for a minute or two.
Dame Brionna looked at Princess Cecilia. “May I ask what you thought of her, your highness?”
“Oh, she’s a dear. I think she would make a quite pliant wife. The old bat, on the other hand, at least I can talk her under the table. And he’s not marrying her.” The Princess looked around at the two knights and Alistair. “I should retire to a private chamber. I’m tired, and I think you young people have some things to discuss.”
Kit looked at Dame Brionna, who nodded this time, and then began yelling at Alistair. “How could you? I’d ask what you were thinking, but you clearly weren’t!”
Alistair spoke in smooth low tones, trying without much success to placate Kit, “I’m sorry, Kit, but I was trying to win her over completely. If we decide that a marriage alliance with Gates is desirable, I’m sure Mirabelle will push for it now, and would pressure her family to agree to annexation in the process.”
“You mean Anna,” spat out Kit.
“What?”
“Anna, not Mirabelle. Mirabelle was the older twin, but she died… their family insisted that Anna take her place.” Kit turned her back on Alistair, but continued yelling at him over her shoulder. “I’m not angry for myself-- I know you haven’t made me any promises-- but how could you do that to that poor girl? She’s confused and being forced by her family to be the better loved sister because they wish she had died instead, and then you took advantage of her.”
“Kit… I had no idea. I didn’t know any of that.”
“You knew that her sister-- her twin sister! -- had died less than a year ago.”
“That’s true, but I also have lost close family members in the last year. Not a twin, but my father and my grandmother, and even the memory of my mother. And being with you helped me a great deal. I had no reason to know that her situation was different.”
Kit refused to even answer that, keeping her back turned. But Dame Brionna was happy to continue the scolding. “But your grace, think about what a horrible mess you’ve made diplomatically. She was a virgin! And her family is very traditional and militaristic. What if her brother challenges you to a duel? Or even just denounces you for shaming Canberry?”
“We already know that they care more about appearances than about any actual sense of honor. If they didn’t, they wouldn’t have forced Anna to pose as Mirabelle. So even if they find out-- which I don’t think they will-- they won’t make a public scandal out of it.”
“Oh, wonderful, your grace. We’ll just have to deal with a neighbor who hates us and wants revenge, but seeks that revenge through assassins, skullduggery, and political intransigence instead of open challenges or wars. You’re right, that’s much better.”
“Yeah, we can have seething hatred simmering below the surface with a neighbor for years this way. Besides, what if you knocked her up? Did you even think about that? Somehow, I don’t think her family could miss that. This was supposed to be the last succession crisis…”
“She won’t get pregnant, Kit. A ‘block’ has been placed on me to prevent any pregnancies. Goodwife Burleytoes assures me that I don’t need to worry about that, but that it will dissolve naturally within three or four months, so that there will not be any problems producing legitimate heirs after I marry.”
Kit paused at that, and Dame Brionna grudgingly nodded confirmation. I guess those herbs the Manumistian priestess gave me aren’t necessary then… and that I don’t have to worry about them failing, Kit thought as she took in the new information. “But that only makes it a little better-- you’ve still taken a very fragile girl and set her up to be hurt even further. She’ll finally think she’s found someone who cares for her, instead of just making her a substitute for her sister, and you’ll send her the message that she’s just a meaningless toss.”
“I already told you, I didn’t understand how serious her issues were. I thought that Canberry needed the leverage… which is cruel, but I have to think that way. And I wasn’t trying to hurt her-- I was also doing what she wanted…”
“No, you were doing what you wanted!” Kit stormed out of Princess Cecilia’s chambers, slamming the door behind her.
Alistair went to the door and called after her, “I’m sorry you think that…” But he had the sense to not follow. Better to let the situation cool down before trying to fix it.
Dame Brionna shook her head, a mix of disappointment and disgust on her face. “We’d best get back to your chambers, your grace. We still have a meeting with the Minister of the Mind scheduled for later today.”
