The letter was from Noerelle. He was asked to join her and Scypian for an audience with Gloria in the Summerwind Palace in an hour’s time.
He rubbed his face with both hands.
He felt his resolve vanishing. He couldn’t pass on a chance like this.
***
“Don’t worry, Duchess, they have nothing on you,” Duke Saintjohn Flamebow, Gloria’s new lawyer, reassuringly patted her hand.
“What on Earth does that ghastly man want from me?” she sighed, chewing on her lip, even though she was certain that she knew the answer.
Gloria’s mind immediately conjured up the conversation she had with her close friend, the Pyonian Empress, not long ago. Sidonia had come to her palace to say goodbye. She had told her that she feared for her life, and even more for the lives of her sons, who had all moved to another continent already.
Apparently, Empress Sidonia had made her decision to leave the Realm based on information she got from a certain Kronurian Lady; Noerelle Raven-Zinn.
Two weeks later, Sidonia was officially declared missing, and Gloria had been appointed the Regent Empress of Pyonia by the Government.
“Knowing King Scypian; undoubtedly some made-up matter to discredit you… Which he won’t,” the lawyer added hastily.
After a knock on the door, a servant announced the visitors.
“King Scypian Stinger, Lady Noerelle Raven-Zinn and Master Mordan Grimdor.”
“Ah, I see you have legal representation, Duchess,” said Scypian after the obligatory and mutual greeting procedures.
“As your Lady wife had been reported missing, thus unable to perform her imperial tasks, Her Majesty is Empress Regent Gloria of Pyonia, and you will address her accordingly, King Scypian,” Flamebow lectured him with disdain.
“I would also like to inform you that this is a formal audience.
Minutes will be taken by my apprentice, therefore I would advise you to tread lightly. If you decide to have a lawyer present, we will give you the time necessary to have one fetched.”
“Why on Earth would I need a lawyer?”
“Because any accusations, threats or any form of slander will be followed by legal procedures, my King,” replied Duke Flamebow calmly.
Scypian was outraged.
“Who do you think you are, lecturing me?”
In retrospect, he wished he didn’t ask that question, as he had to endure a seemingly endless speech from the lawyer in the most tedious legal gibberish.
He felt Noerelle lightly touching his hand. He decided to let her take over.
“Empress Regent Gloria, please let me assure you that King Scypian is most grateful that you could spare the time to receive him. Please know that he is in a very desperate situation that might cause him to lose his temper occasionally.”
Mordan couldn’t stop himself from letting out a little snort, earning him a warning look from Noerelle. Thankfully, nobody else seemed to notice it.
She carried on, while Scypian tried to put on a placated smile that made him look as if he was being tortured by painful wind.
“My Regent Empress, I know you are aware that the present Empress Sidonia has gone missing. She was supposed to arrive in Stingray Harbour weeks ago, but nobody has seen her since she left the Island.”
This was the first time Mordan heard about this.
He had resented the fact that he was brought along without being given any information on what would happen.
He saw Gloria blanch; it was obvious that the statement hit a nerve. She looked so vulnerable and unhappy; he wished he could take her away somewhere far, where nobody else was around.
He had hoped that he could get over her; his resolve from a few hours ago had contained his resignation to the realisation that she was just a dream for him; he could never be with her.
But now, looking at her, he knew he couldn’t find another woman like Gloria; he would do anything for the slightest chance to get closer to her.
Noerelle’s words hung in the air.
Gloria was desperately trying to come up with something to say. She wasn’t supposed to know any of this; she had made a promise.
The silence was getting unbearable. Duke Flamebow had realised that Gloria was at a loss. He stepped in.
“Pray tell, Lady Raven-Zinn, what are you insinuating?”
Noerelle looked at him with innocent surprise.
“No, no, you misunderstand, Duke Flamebow…”
“Has the Realm Guard been informed about Empress Sidonia’s disappearance?” the lawyer stepped closer to the visitors.
“No, but…”
“Is there a formal investigation?” he took another step forward.
“Not as yet…”
“So what makes you come here with allegations…” it was Flamebow who was being interrupted this time.
Scypian, who could feel his blood boil during the exchange, exploded with a bang. He stepped forward wildly jabbing the air with his index finger.
“Stop interrogating her, lawyer. I’ll tell you what makes us come here.
The fact that this woman has weaselled her way into the confidence of my wife.
The fact that the last place my wife was seen alive was this impostor’s palace!
The fact that I’ll be the first to be investigated in case anything has happened to Sidonia!”
He turned to Gloria shouting on top of his voice.
“You have planned this all along, haven’t you? You wanted her throne, her title and her palace.”
“That’s preposterous! She had been elected by the Government as a candidate, should your family lose the throne. Your own wife had voted for her. All because of the treasonous acts committed by your countrymen! You will have to answer for this accusation at Court!” shouted Flamebow.
“You had my wife and sons killed so you can be Empress, you jumped-up whore!” Scypian screamed at Gloria.
Mordan had watched the exchange with mounting anger, but at this point, there was no holding back.
He jumped up and grabbed Scypian by his collar.
“Are you out of your mind? Get out, get out of here!” he roared, pushing and kicking Scypian out of the Grand Salon.
“I’m so sorry, Regent Empress,” Noerelle whispered, making a hasty exit.
Gloria was shocked. She was trembling. She summoned all her willpower to stop herself from crying, while she thanked Flamebow for his assistance and asked him to leave. He promised her to come back when she had calmed down, reassuring her again that everything would be taken care of.
Gloria calmly walked to her bedroom, where she threw herself on her bed and broke down in a flood of tears.
A day ago she had that thought Octarian was her biggest problem; now she realised that she could be discredited to a point where all of society would shun her, what’s more, if there were Pyonians involved, she might even have to fear for her safety – and that of her children.
Her whole body was shaking from crying. She thought she would never stop.
After what felt like hours, Dinah slipped into the room.
“Is there something I can do for you, my Lady?” she asked gently.
“Bring me a bottle of sparkling wine… or two,” she muttered.
Dinah returned in a few minutes with the order.
She didn’t leave.
“Is there something you want?” Gloria asked.
She sat at her vanity table in front of a gilded mirror. Even if nobody could see her, she couldn’t stand not looking her best.
“Master Grimdor is begging for you to receive him.”
“You must be joking!”
“No, my Lady. He is desperate. He wants to apologise. He said he’ll be waiting as long as it’s necessary. In fact, he’s been waiting for two hours already.”
Gloria thought for a moment.
“Let me know whether he’s still here in an hour.”
An hour and a bottle of spar
kling wine later, Dinah reappeared.
“He’s still here.”
“Bring him up here,” Gloria nodded towards the private salon adjacent to her bedroom.
Half an hour later, Gloria stepped in the salon. Mordan blushed violently, jumped up and threw himself at her feet.
“My Empress, thank you so much for receiving me. I… I…” he stammered. He had meticulously planned out everything he wanted to say, but being in her private quarters alone with her, wiped his mind blank.
Gloria didn’t quite know what to expect from this conversation; she had steeled herself to deal with one of Scypian’s lackeys. The theatrical display of submission threw her. She looked down at Mordan who seemed to be even more miserable than she had felt.
“Please, Master Grimdor, stand up and take a seat. We shall be civil to each other, even though your choice of company seems rather questionable. But we are not here to discuss your poor choices.”
She sat down, taking a sip of Cadentian Sparkle.
“Help yourself to a drink,” she commanded.
Mordan obeyed and sat down.
“Please say what you have to say and then leave.”
He gathered his thoughts and launched himself into a tirade of apologies, explanations and reassurances. He offered her the choice of him leaving the King’s employ immediately.
While he was talking, she leant back. She was watching him intently, only half-listening to what he was saying.
When he was finished she stood up. He followed suit.
She stepped up to him.
“So, you’re on my side then?” she asked.
“I will do whatever you want me to, my Empress.”
“Anything?”
“Yes, anything. I would do anything for you.”
“Comfort me,” she said.
Mordan hesitated for a second.
“Now,” she commanded.
As in a dream, he found himself slipping his arm around her waist, pulling her close. Within a few minutes, they were stumbling over to the next room, kissing and tearing off each other’s clothes.
The following evening, when Mordan finally took his leave, he knew he could do anything in the World he wanted.
With Gloria on his side, he could take whatever abuse was thrown at him.
On his arrival at the Academy, a letter was waiting for him.
Mordan dear,
You have done well.
Even better than expected.
N.
P.S.: Don’t worry, the King isn’t angry with You. It was all part of the Plan.
Swiftarrow Mansion, Realm’s Heart Island
“My Lady, Lady Noerelle and King Scypian request your presence in the study in half an hour,” Nadira reminded Rica, interrupting her feverish revision of her family history.
Rica had been moved into Swiftarrow Mansion a few weeks ago with Gunda and Master Snakebite. She had slowly got used to owning an elegant townhouse in one of the best parts of the Lazulian District, with staff to go with it; two servants, a gardener, a cook and two kitchen scullions, two maids, the handmaiden Miah, her lady in waiting called Nadira and the Master of House, Daryn Rider.
The latter nodded at her encouragingly.
“Don’t worry, my Lady, you will do just fine. We have some time, let’s go over it again.”
Rica took a deep breath and started recounting all she learnt.
“King Scypian and my late mother, the Countess Arpya Swiftarrow, descendant of the Outer Pyonian Stingers, had been sweethearts from a young age.
Because of the war and the following Sunflare occupation, lesser nobles – like my mother’s family – were forced to assimilate and pressured into marrying anybody but other Pyonians. Thus my mother had been wed to my father, the Lazulian Count Swiftarrow,” she stopped for a moment.
“Please remember to breathe, my Lady.”
“The love between the King and my mother prevailed, despite all the hardships and obstacles they had to endure. It took King Scypian years to find my mother, but in the end he did.
With the help of a faithful servant, they had started a clandestine relationship. Shortly, my mother became pregnant with my brother; she saw it as the ultimate revenge on her husband and the Sunflares.
My father, the impoverished Count, was a travelling merchant.
Unfortunately, during my mother’s pregnancy and the time my brother was born, he had been away for almost a year, therefore it was impossible to convince him the child was his.
The only possibility to live in the same house with her new-born child was for my mother to ask one of her servants to pretend the boy was hers.”
“How is it possible nobody had noticed? Your family lived in in a fairly sizeable town,” Rider tested Rica.
“Oh…yes… My mother had a rare condition, she very rarely left her quarters, and most of the townsfolk never even saw her. The servant had been asked to stuff her clothes with pillows, so people would believe she was pregnant,” she replied triumphantly.
“Very good, very good. So, what had happened then?”
“When my mother discovered that she was pregnant with me, she had decided that her affair with King Scypian would have to come to an end.”
“You are a very good student, my Lady,” Rider praised her. He looked at her pensively.
“Where is Count Swiftarrow now?”
“I don’t know. After my mother had died, my father found documents and my mother’s diaries, so he discovered that my half-brother was King Scypian’s son. He never told me how he had felt about it.
A few months ago, he had planned to take me and my governess on a journey. A few days after we had left, I found myself back home with no memories. Our Master of House had alerted Lord Bowman who is a friend of our family. He had arranged for me to come here. My mother had left me this house in her will. As my father had been missing for several months now, I am presently Countess Swiftarrow.”
“Do you harbour any ill feelings towards King Scypian for having been the lover of your mother while she already had been married to your father?”
“I… I do feel sorry for my father for having been betrayed… but I understand that my parents’ marriage was arranged, and that King Scypian and my mother were in love,” she sighed.
“Do you know why you have lost your memory?”
She shook her head.
“Do you actually remember any of the things you have just told me?”
She cast her eyes down and shook her head again.
“Please, my Lady, you misunderstood, I didn’t mean to sound reproachful. It’s not your fault that something so horrendous must have happened to you that all your memories had been wiped out,” he gently patted her hand.
“Do you think it would help if you met your brother?”
Rica’s eyes lit up.
“Mordan is coming here?” she asked incredulously.
He smiled benevolently and nodded.
“He is not only coming here, but he will escort you to the ball.”
***
Scypian looked at the piece of paper in front of him. The text was identical to the one Rica had been studying. He rubbed his forehead.
“What if she doesn’t remember it correctly?”
“I don’t think that would be a problem, considering she suffers from severe memory loss,” Noerelle replied, trying to suppress an annoyed sigh.
She found it more and more difficult to be polite to Scypian. Not to mention that his advances were getting more frequent and increasingly harder to dodge.
“You on the other hand, should be able to respond to any question in connection with the story,” she warned.
“Do you think Grimdor will believe it?”
This time, Noerelle couldn’t stop her from vigorously rolling her eyes.
“He might be many things, but an idiot he is not. Of course he wouldn’t believe it and he doesn’t need to either. Remember?”
“Oh, yes, right
you are. Sorry my dear, this bloody ball is making me nervous. A Windscale Ball at that. I hate the whole bunch of them. Don’t you think we’ll take a huge risk?”
“No. Rica has to be there. Every eventuality has been taken into consideration, everything is planned, we have several backup plans,” the sheer amount of determination in her eyes shut him up.
***
Mordan was getting tired of the secret meetings and the changing venues of the get-togethers of their little conspirators’ group. What they were conspiring against, he still didn’t know. Or care for that matter.
He had Gloria, everything else was secondary.
One wrong word and he would beat that ratty bastard Scypian to a pulp.
He asked himself why he agreed to be brought to the new location at all.
If he was completely honest with himself, he had to admit that he found a somewhat perverse pleasure in listening to the utterly ludicrous plans those two came up with.
He found Scypian and Noerelle in yet another study; the King sitting at the desk, Noerelle hovering above him.
For an instant, he locked eyes with Scypian. Their last encounter hasn’t been forgotten by either of them, in spite of Noerelle’s best efforts to explain to both of them that it was all meant to happen.
Noerelle hurried to him, and before he could stop her, she hugged him.
“Mordan dear, prepare yourself for the happiest day of your life,” she clapped her hands girlishly.
“I can hardly contain my excitement.”
“You better sit down, because believe me, this will knock you off your feet,” she announced.
He obeyed, looking around.
“Where are we anyway? Lazulian district, a definite lack of gory paintings and black wall-papers, all in all, a house fit for the majority of human-kind. What is a Stinger doing in an agreeable place like this?”
“The Lady of the house invited us to stay with her. You will find out the rest in a matter of seconds, but first thing first…” she nodded towards Scypian.
The King produced an old-fashioned parchment and unrolled it.
He sighed and cleared his throat.
“This is a document… An official statement… Eh, read it yourself, I’m in no mood for theatrics,” he said offering the parchment to Mordan.
Equimancer's Realm Page 15
