Fantasy _______| 𝕿𝖍𝖊 𝕻𝖆𝖈𝖙 𝖂𝖎𝖙𝖍 𝕺𝖉𝖎𝖓 |

[The Witch Son]

Veora was here before her father, as she knew she would be. The Emperor and her father would make a slightly late appearance to dinner. As far as she knew, they'd spent all of noontime together, her father had not even been sent away long enough to change his riding clothes to something more formal.

The usher announced her entrance to the Empress's dining hall.

“Your majesties.” Veora entered and curtsied low.

“Welcome Lady Veora, you may rise.” Empress Alexandra nodded from where she sat, to the right of the head chair of the table. The left open for Lord Grimald, and then Tristan. With Veora’s seat nestled between the Empress and Princess respectively.

A seating arrangement divided by gender.

Prince Tristan approached Veora as she rose, and by now, she'd steeled herself to a perfect calm.

“This is my son and heir to the throne, Crown Prince Tristan.” The Empress introduced him.

“My Lady, a relief to be finally introduced.” Prince Tristan offered his hand.

Which Veora took, and she recalls this moment as one of wonder, now only a battle line drawn.

“The pleasure is all mine, your grace.” She said politely, allowing him to lead her to her seat. Her eyes did not linger on him.

“And this is my daughter, Princess Alegra.” The Empress gestured to her.

“Charmed.” Alegra looked her up and down, like a cat surveying if a mouse was worth hunting or not.

“It's an honor Princess.” Veora took her seat.

This moment she remembered well, it'd been the first time she'd been dispelled of the notion that the south was all gentile ladylike splendor. Princess Alegra’s claws bore into her for the first and last time, as she'd been deemed boring by the Princess, and was of no account. A blessing in disguise, as the Princess played roughly with the things she did deem intriguing.

At the time though, it'd dismayed her. She had thought to ingratiate herself to her cousin, her ultimate goal being becoming her sister by matrimony after all.

“Are those shell bobbles on your ears Lady Veora? How peculiar, I’ve never seen such a thing.” Princess Alegra reached over and inspected them, without asking and not being precisely gentle in the way she tugged them closer to her eye.

Veora bore it well, if a little surprised at the sudden tug. Despite knowing it was coming. She bent obediently.

“Well, yes, they are.” She knew the princess expected her to tell her from where they came, but didn't elaborate. They’d come from House Day’s heir. From Sylas, on her birthday, he usually got her a new pair of shell or pearl from his territory.

His name didn't need to be uttered in this court, by these people.

“Hmmmm, pretty.” Princess Alegra released her ears abruptly.

She and her cohort would be wearing ones like them within the next few weeks, and from there the rest of the court would suddenly take a keen liking to them. It would be one of summer's trends at court.

“If you could refrain from tearing our Lady Veora’s ears off Alegra…” Prince Tristan sounded annoyed. He always did when he was speaking to his sister, or of her.

His seat scraped on the floor, as if to make his displeasure known as he sat down on the other end of the table.

“Oh don't act as though she's delicate Tristan, she's as tall as you and I only come to her shoulder.” Alegra shot back.

Veora remembered being offended at this before, but now, she understood better that to the Princess this was no insult. She viewed delicate and weak things with disgust, especially if ever found in herself.

“Apologies, Lady Veora, they never grew out of bickering like children unfortunately.” Empress Alexandra sighed.

“It's the way of all brothers and sisters I think.” Veora’s smile was true at this.

“Do you miss yours already? I heard that your father never sent you or your brother to ward anywhere, nor much out of The Mountainkeep at all. I doubt you've ever spent much time apart.” Empress Alexandra asked.

“Ever? So like us?” Prince Tristan smirked at his mother.

“No, like me.” Princess Alegra retorted before her mother could respond.

“You've gotten to see a battle camp before and went on tour not a year ago. That's not being shut in a keep Tristan.” She bitterly berated.

“That's hardly anything.” Prince Tristan rolled his eyes.

Once again discounting his many fortunes as nothing.

“Yes.” Veora confirmed, looking to the Empress.

“Not only my siblings, though we may bicker, but the whole of the north. I’ve left my heart behind there.”

“Your heart my lady?” Prince Tristan asked.

“How sweet, you love your home.” The Empress understood what Veora meant.

“Indeed, I have no greater love than my home.”

“How dull, no explorative spirit to speak of.” Princess Alegra sniffed.

“Alegra…” Empress Alexandra sounded exasperated.

“I've read many accounts of explorers of the known world. Before it was mapped. And they all expressed the same thing towards the end. That home, ultimately, was where they yearned to be.” Prince Tristan piped up, looking toward Veora.

“But… I think it is the fate of ladies, is it not? To leave their home and make another once they marry.”

“Not necessarily, I doubt Lady Veora is bereft of options.” Empress Alexandra noted.

“True, I could, for instance, become a nun.” Veora smiled.

It earned her surprised laughter, her first words that sounded personable and not like rehearsed formality.

“So you follow the church, and not the heathens?” Alegra asked in a falsely innocent tone.

Though rudely phrased, it did not escape Veora’s notice that no one came to her defense on that matter.

“I proudly follow both, Princess Alegra.” Veora’s voice was not meek, nor did it tremble at the prodding of the princess’s claws. Rather, she sounded amused.

“How?” Said princess scoffed.

Prince Tristan clicked his tongue, “We're instructed to honor our forefathers by the church and yet you demand Lady Veora to abandon half of her’s? The north is a different animal entirely from the south, of course she must honor the religion of her people there.” He said, as though it were obvious, “And besides, you're sitting here castigating the honorable lady over a church you constantly complain about and never attend. Hypocrisy thy name is Alegra.”

“They're usually never this ugly in front of guests.” Empress Alexandra noted to Veora in a hushed tone.

“As though you're much better, citing scripture now are we?” Alegra’s tone increased in haughtiness.

“I am better, I thank you for recognizing superiority when you see it.” Prince Tristan made a great show of adjusting his doublet's collar.

Alegra rolled her eyes in disgust, but her pinched smile betrayed her amusement.

“To elaborate, it might surprise you to learn that while the church of aule sees fit to denounce all other faiths as false and invalid. It is not so the other way around. As Prince Tristan mentioned, it is an entirely different way of looking at the world. Aule is divine, untouchable, and sets for us rules by which we may live. While the old gods are much less interested in telling you how to live rather than sharing with you how they did, and offering you aid in your own story.” Veora said slowly and carefully, choosing her words wisely.

“How… peculiar.” Empress Alexandra nodded neutrally.

“Well they're much more interesting, these old gods, than scripture.” Prince Tristan’s eyes twinkled as he smiled, genuinely enthralled.

“I’ll say.” Alegra agreed as she took another sip of wine, looking around.

“Shouldn't father be here right now? What in the world could Lord Grimald and he be talking about that's taking so long.” Alegra looked to her mother, and arched a brow at the realization that it did not seem like her mother had an answer.

“Your father has always named Lord Grimald as his closest friend, and it's been years since they've met last. Your father is probably letting the time get away from him.” Empress Alexandra gestured to a valet at the corner of the room, who whispered something to a guard.

No doubt to go check.

Veora realized, with no small amount of discomfort, that it had been past the time when her father and the Emperor should have arrived.

“I hope everything is alright, I know father had a rather unpleasant thing to discuss with the Emperor.” Veora frowned.

“Oh? Does it have anything to do with that astrological event?” Prince Tristan asked.

“Again with the astrological event.” Alegra heaved a sigh, quite done, apparently, with hearing of it.

“You do go on about that dear.” Empress Alexandra agreed with her daughter.

“Ah but I have a new piece of the puzzle! I am to understand that Lady Veora, here with us, fell deathly ill, during this event. Or perhaps because of it? Or… maybe she caused it.” Tristan winked.

Veora froze.

And this time both mother and daughter rolled their eyes and sighed exasperatedly.

“My Prince you tease me, stars do not fall and move for silly women.” Only they do and they did. For silly women and the great and terrible oaths they make to old, desperate, gods.

She looked down demurely.

“No of course not, but all the same. When we got word that you had fallen so ill we were sad to hear it. We did not think that in so short a time you would be visiting us. But all the same, we are glad to have you.” Prince Tristan pressed.

“You must allow me to give you a proper tour, this keep is vast and there is more to see in it than your apartments.”

“Your grace is too kind. But I am due to report to her majesty's service in the morn.”

“And a Grimald never trades duty for pleasure.” Tristan nodded, teasing again.

He looked to his mother for permission.

“Seeking to take my newest lady from me? No, I have need of her for most of the day. But the morrow after next, I will allow.” The Empress diplomatically responded.

“The contest is tomorrow, no? For the revel. Is Lady Veora participating?” Alegra asked.

Prince Tristan smirked, “Surely there would be no need for her to participate in a contest to be one of the eleven Lady Virtues. It would be beneath Lady Veora, and she is already well qualified to be any one of them.”

“As one of her majesties’ ladies I believe my place would be to attend her and assist with the contest then, no?” Veora quickly and boldly asked, before running the risk of the Empress conceding to another of her son’s requests.

“Just so.” The Empress agreed.

“As I said, already well qualified.” Prince Tristan tipped his glass.

“Empress.” The valet approached and bowed, “The Emperor gives leave to begin without him. He says he will not be attending dinner. He instead is supping privately with Lord Grimald.”

“Privately? After all this fuss to plan five courses for our guests?” Alegra said indignantly.

“Alegra…” The Empress corrected pointedly, “Very well then, let us not starve ourselves. We are good company for each other are we not?”

Veora quickly wiped the confused frown off her face and agreed. Wondering what could have happened to cause this minor change in events, whether it be timing, knowledge, imprudence, or simple luck. She knew not if it even mattered, but something told her that it did. It didn't sit well with her intuition…

 

[The Witch Son]

Cosette felt a wave of relief upon reentering the palace walls. Here she was safe from her sister’s not so subtle attempts to glean more information on her time up north. Cosette didn’t trust herself not to let something else sensitive slip, and Luci was an even bigger gossip then her mother.

Not that she could help it, such things were some of the only entertainment Luci got.

Thankfully, news of the impending betrothal had dominated most conversation, Lucinda was shocked to find Lord Rowan not only found a Lord willing to offer their son’s hand, but that Cosette agreed.

With some not so subtle manipulations.

Luci’s words ran through the young woman’s head as a servant escorted her back to the apartment she shared with Veora.

Oh Coco, I suppose this means the end of your well, rebellious ways? You’ll have a husband and house to tend to. Little ones won’t be far behind. It’ll all fall into place for you.

Lucinda had meant well, Cosette knew this. Truly her excitement was legitimate. There hadn’t been a hint of malice or distaste in her voice. It almost made it worse, knowing she’d completely compartmentalize their relationship to ignore all the unsightly things that Cosette aspired to.

All the things that made her who she truly was. Things her soon to be betrothed hadn’t even seemed to mind. Veora certainly didn’t, and she’d orchestrated their entire meeting.

Cosette knew she didn’t need to live up to the stuffy picture of perfect most southern ladies aspired to be. So why did it bother her so bloody much?

Once back to the apartment, she offered the servant a curt thank you and stalked inside. At the very least she needn’t worry about anyone in here judging her.

At least, not too harshly.

No, Veora was too busy being creepy and throwing a thousand yard stare out the window to judge anyone. Pondering atrocities and layering schemes took a lot of work apparently.

“How is Lady Keath?” Veora asked as Cosette entered the dimly lit room, moonlight and candles only offering enough light to navigate without tripping.

“She’s well. As well as one can be, with two littles and a third on the way.” Cosette chuckled, closing the door behind her as she stepped forward. “She was very excited to hear of my impending betrothal. Something about your brother making an honest lady out of me.” Cosette rolled her eyes and allowed herself the laugh she’d had to suppress while visiting.

“She meant well of course, in her own way. Demeaning as the concept may be.”

“I don’t know who taught women that…” Well… yes she did. Veora was aware of why the church was the way it was.

“That marriage transforms you. That you'll become this new woman and you’ll be so much more worthy in the eyes of god and man.” Veora meandered over to the bed and crawled in.

“It doesn't change a thing. Not a single thing. And I think that's a good thing.” She said as she snuggled a pillow.

“What about the earrings? How did she respond about the earrings?”

“She’s quite devote, and devoted to her bastard husband. So I can’t say I was surprised. Though she was perturbed by my having to go away north.”

She waved a hand dismissively. “She frets more then my own mother, I swear. She is however, keen to show off her little collection of shell earrings. Apparently thats something that suits her fancy.”

She leaned back in her chair, a sigh escaping her lips. “She isn’t thrilled about whom I meant to marry, but is happy I’m consenting to be married. So, little victories I suppose.”

“She already has some? Hm, that's unexpected.” Veora could almost laugh, if she weren't feeling so sober. That Lady Keath was already keen on an up and coming trend was her luck.

“Apparently she collects all matter of ocean paraphernalia.”
It was odd to think she knew so little about her sibling. The two were so far apart, sometimes it was a struggle to find common ground. Lucinda was happy to play her part as Lay Keath, she represented her house with all the dignity and respect one would expect a noble woman to bring.

Her dream was for Cosette to do the same. A dream the two had never seen eye to eye on.

“I have good news for you, Princess Alegra and her pack of jackals will be expecting to eat you tomorrow, mid-morning. Afterwards the lot of you will report to the south-end ballroom where The Empress will be holding a contest to see who will play the virtues in the latest revel to be held. Not to participate, as you are not trying for the Prince’s hand in marriage, but to watch. I’ll be with the Queen's ladies, newly sworn in. It sounds like it'll be lively.”

Loathe as it was to have to spend time with the Princess and her cohorts, Cosette did rather want to knock them around a bit.

“I shall look forward to it. At least, the first half of the day.” She couldn’t have cared less about earning the right to participate in the revel.

“All those poor girls, competing to wed the human statue.” She rolled her eyes, rose and made her way toward the bed.

Flopping down on top of the covers, she chuckled. “Can you imagine? Going to such trouble to catch the eye of such a dull man?”

Unfortunately, thought Veora.

Tristan was about as far from an ideal husband as Cosette could think. Coddled, entitled and with an entire nation to rule one day.

No, she couldn’t fathom such responsibility, nor why anyone would wish for it.

“Oh? Statue? Dull? I wasn't aware Lady Cosette knew Prince Tristan so well. Tell me, where did you learn to be such a masterful study of character?” Veora replied sarcastically.

“Oh, call it intuition. He’s handsome enough I suppose. If you like human marble. And perhaps there’s a bit of bias. Lord knows my opinion of nobility is more than a bit skewed. But if our dear Prince Tristan is even remotely like some of the suitors who've come knocking for me, or for my kin.”

He isn't, at all, thought Veora. But then again, nobody was. Cosette just wasn't of the habit of looking beyond her own presuppositions.

Cosette scoffed. “Then he’s nothing worth being excited over. Plus, anyone who hopes to marry him is burdened with the promise to rule one day. To become Empress and to lead this nation in part. Why anyone would willingly choose such responsibility is beyond me. But, I am nowhere near as ambitious as most ladies our age. I’m certainly nowhere near as ambitious as you.”

She glanced to Veora, smiling. “But that is probably for the best, elsewise we wouldn’t get along so well.”

Veora heaved a great sigh, “One of these days Cosette, you're going to have to learn to empty your cup of the dirty water you've accrued. Elsewise the clear truth will never fill it. Now go to sleep, you have bruises to gain tomorrow.”

Cosette scoffed. “Doubtful, but we shall see.”

Sleep didn’t exactly come easy, what with all the excitement the day had provided. But Cosette couldn’t put it off forever, in time darkness came and quelled her racing thoughts, lulling her into slumber.

 

[StarryKnights]

Cosette rose early the next morning and dressed, utterly dreading each and every step which brought her closer to the day's events.

Which was worse, she wondered? The upcoming contest for the revel roles? Or being saddled with the Princess and her insipid lot? At least the latter offered a chance for violence.

Cosette didn’t doubt the princess had claws, whether she knew how to use them remained to be seen. Something small to look forward to. She wasn’t a fool however, this felt like the ultimate test of all the lessons Veora had drilled into her skull during the month long journey to the capital.

Thinking back on the lessons made Cosette’s head hurt. Having to put them to practice would be the death of her. At least it would provide her something to write to Rhory about. How many could say that they were granted the opportunity to quite literally knock the princess onto her ass?

She dressed alone, shooing off any staff who came to help her. Lottie was staying at Lucinda’s estate and assisting with the boys, leaving Cosette to fend for herself.

Of course there were plenty of staff capable and willing (ordered more likely) to assist, but she didn’t trust them. That, and she wasn’t fond of others picking through her hair. Undoing the braids Veora had done left her hair hanging in loose waves across her shoulders.

It wasn’t a look Cosette was accustomed to, so she opted to tie it up and back, adorning the bun with a stark blue ribbon on hand. Neat, presentable and out of the way. Plus a subtle nod to her betrothal. No doubt an announcement on the matter was enroute to the North.

She wondered how Rhory would react to the news. Positively, she’d hope. And with more dignity and grace than Cosette had shown. Lingering doubts on her impending marriage would have to wait, as a servant came to collect her.

“Lady Rowan, the Princess is ready for you.”
The maid stood at the door, the picture of demure grace.

“Wish me luck”, she smiled at Veora, utterly sarcastic. “I’m going to need it”.

“Yes you will!” Veora assured her, waving goodbye but sitting as still as she could while her maid twisted another strand of hair around the hot curling iron.

Cosette debated flashing a rather unlady-like gesture, but thought better of it as the maid ushered her out the door.

“She'll be fine… mostly.” Veora assured the mirror she was staring into as the door closed shut behind the future queen of the northern kingdom.

The royal wing, a shut off and heavily guarded section of Blackgate, was, despite the lack of people enjoying it, heavily decorated. Wood paneling on the walls, tapestries, paintings, erected statues of bronze and marble were placed throughout. The many years it took to curate the collection on partial display, yet more in archives to collect dust through the years.

The maid, very familiar with the royal wing and named Anna, set a brisk pace leading Lady Cosette down the shortest way to the southern courtyard.

It was always set up as both a training yard and lounge despite being a courtyard. No one but the Princess and her ladies ever used it for anything else after all.

The training yard proper was only set up for men. Though there were strategically placed ramparts and pagoda's with a nice view. The Princess always thought it a male fault that none of them thought to also make room for leisure. Like she was smart enough to do.

Such thoughtfulness offered great opportunity, like now, here she was, lounging back and eating a cream puff. Watching as her friend Penelope whirled around and elbowed Camille in the nose sharply.

A sickening crack and scream of disbelief later, and Camille was sporting a bleeding nose.

“Bravo! Bravo!” Alegra clapped with the other onlookers.

“Oh shit.” She dropped her cream puff, and saw another cream puff approaching. Her hair as white as…

“Lady Cosette, you're just in time. Penelope has beaten Camille. And I’m next.” Alegra smiled wide at the sound of Camille calling Penelope a (can't say that bloody word soooo here's something less satisfying) bitch.

Cosette managed a half hearted curtsy, her tone remained short. “I’m happy to have arrived in the midst of all the fun.” She looked out onto the yard, a smile coming to her face.

“It seems your circle does not hold back. How refreshing.”

Bloody noses right off the back? Perhaps this morning wouldn’t be as dreadful as Cosette had thought. None of her sparring partners at home would dare to go so hard.

Even Viktor feared leaving bruises in places easily seen.

Cosette very much doubted these ladies would hesitate to leave her broken and bloody.

She was rather excited to return the favor.

“We thought you might like that, savage as the rumors are about you. At the least you might find common ground here, in this circle. We don't mind savagery, but we do mind idiots. You aren't that, I hope, are you Cosette?” Alegra took her time selecting a practice sword, they used blunt steel instead of weighted wood.

“She doesn't look stupid.” Brianna said before Cosette could reply, circling from behind and examining her.

Cosette suppressed the urge to deck the woman in the face as she circled around her. She didn’t take kindly to being snuck up on. She settled to turn her head, keeping Brianna in sight as she came round.

“But looks can be deceiving.” Barbara spoke as she tipped her goblet to Brianna from where she lay in the grass.

“Indeed they can. I nearly thought I was surrounded by demure ladies as I approached. Color me pleasantly surprised.” Cosette rolled her eyes playfully. It was rare she found herself surrounded by other wolves.

She stepped toward the practice rack, curious to see what was on hand. Fighting cattiness with more cattiness probably wasn’t the smartest move. But it was oh so satisfying.

“I just pray I can match your levels of savagery. Mine might be a bit exaggerated,” she chuckled. “Or perhaps you’ll need to match me. I look forward to puzzling it out.”

The girls laughed in disbelief around her, Alegra laughed the loudest.

“Well at least you're not dull Lady Cosette, might be the first Rowan at court who's got anything fun to say.” Alegra said as the dull shink of the sword she chose emphasized her words.

Long, straight and narrow. Light, but not an easy length to control unless you knew how. And boy did Alegra know how.

“I cannot imagine that was a particularly difficult feat. As much as I love my sisters, most can be rather banal.” Cosette selected a blade of her own, shorter than what Alegra had. Her short stature made it more difficult to use the longer, heavier blades many knights utilized.

Shorter blade limited her strike distance, making it necessary for Cosette to weave into and past her opponent’s guard. Something most didn’t expect, given her small size.

Cosette had never sparred against another woman, let alone someone of Alegra’s skill. Still, she maintained a level of calm going well past cockiness.
The blade was light, Cosette gave it a few practice swings.

“So, can I expect to be welcomed with a proper fight then?”

Alegra was tactful enough to not openly look at people as a cat did their prey, usually, here she had no reason to hide that. Her smile fell. Cosette gave her a stare to match, amber eyes gleaming with excitement.

“Set.” Was Alegra’s response, sword pointed to the sky, and then very quickly, without fair pause or explanation of the rules or how anything worked in their group…

“Bow.” a bow, “Begin!” and a stabbing strike, straight for Cosette’s gut. She was much, much faster then the typical opponents Cosette handled, and far more brutal. She just managed to dodge the strike, side stepping and guiding the tip of the blade away from her midsection.

The fight began with quickly exchanged blows, Alegra testing defenses and annoying Cosette’s knees, shoulders, gut, and feet. Making her back up and around, dancing to Alegra’s set pace.

Cosette was the one used to setting the bloody pace.

Cosette was unsteadied and shocked by the speed with which strikes came but parried blow after blow. Only wincing once when her shoulder took a hit.

And then Alegra backed off, it was clear that she was toying with Cosette. The victorious smirk on her face said as much.

Their audience jeered and snickered. Cosette paid them little mind. Her focus was on the princess.

“Used to fighting those lumbering knights are you, Lady Cosette?” Alegra mocked, teeth bared.

“You’d be surprised how ungodly unbalanced-” Cosetted rotated her arm, refusing to wince again in the face of the pain. “Most knights are. A pity you're not out protecting the streets Princess.”

She smiled wide, eyes narrowed. She looked more enthralled then dismayed, despite the jeering. Utterly savage one might say. Her stance shifted, this time a bit lower.

Alegra was toying with her, and deep down that was beyond insulting. But for the moment, the combination of the thrill of the fight and having something to prove kept Cosette from perseverating.

Instead, she cracked her neck, twirled the blade in her hand and chuckled. “Besides, this fight isn’t over. It's entirely too much fun to be over so quickly.”

With that, Cosette struck, darting closer and behind the perceived range of Alegra’s attacks.

If she was content to poke and stab away from a distance, Cosette would close the gap. Her slashing blows were aimed at her joints, hands and legs, anything to try and offset the princess’s sense of balance.

A bruising blow landed on the princess’s thigh. Stubbornly, Alegra viewed it as much more prudent to accept a blow than be knocked down. She switched to a widened stance and side stepped Cosette’s attacks, until an opening presented itself and Alegra elbowed Cosette away enough for her to side sweep her legs out from under her.

She went down rather hard, Cosette just managing to not fall onto her ass and instead onto her knees. Gaze turned upward, fiery indignation gleamed in Cosette’s eyes.

She smiled at the satisfying thud Cosette made. That wouldn’t go unpunished.

But before she could say anything her smile was wiped from her face as Cosette’s entire sword narrowly missed her head as she dodged for her life, landing on one knee.

Equal parts enraged and impressed, Alegra delivered a kick to Cosette's head.

The blow blurred her vision, Cosette tasted blood into her mouth. She spat a glob of redden spit onto the floor, unceremoniously wiping her chin with her sleeve.

“Oh, you’d like to wrestle now princess? I’m fine with that.”

She debated lunging for the other woman then and there, knocking her onto her back and going from there. However, movement up in the terrace above them caught her attention.

“Seems we’ve attracted an audience.” Cosette huffed, slowly rising to her feet.

All eyes present turned up, to see Tristan and several of his cohort watching in morbid fascination from a terrace above.

Between Cosette's shoulder and face, she imagined she looked quite the state. Her hair was also semi loose, near white strands fell down to frame her face. Reaching back, she retrieved and secured the ribbon formerly holding it back before it fell to the ground.

“In the interest of not clawing your eyes out in front of your brother, I’ll admit defeat. For now.”

Not that she cared the prince and his cohort of insufferable pricks were watching. Hell, it might’ve made it more fun for them to witness such a thing.
She imagined such an act would be met with retaliation going beyond Alegra’s own fury.

And Cosette didn’t need to make matters within the palace any more difficult for Veora and her schemes.

It certainly wasn’t due to the fact Cosette was unsure if she could win that fight. Most definitely not.

“You are beaten Lady Cosette.” Alegra corrected, tapping the girl's shoulder none too gently with the tip of her sword to remind her that she was still armed. Cosette debated on trying to take the bloody blade from her.

With her shoulder screaming and head pounding, she thought better of it.

“What kind of lunatic throws away their sword in the middle of a duel!” Came Penelope’s impressed laugh.

“The daring kind.” Defended Camille, who’s nose was now set and had stopped bleeding, but still had blood caked at the nostrils.

“The savage kind.” Concluded Alegra in a complimentary tone, “Welcome to the Princess’s ladies Cosette, we look forward to your company.”

Like a hole in the head, Cosette thought, feigning a smile. Wait until she told Veora she’d managed to earn the princess’s favor. If only for a little bit.

Enjoying the clapping from above and below, Alegra led Cosette away to where the rest were sitting to enjoy a break from the tussling.

“They come to watch sometimes, though my brother and any good Ser will insist it's only morbidity, I think they like the show for other reasons.” Alegra informed Cosette.

“I can’t imagine why,” Cosette rolled her eyes. Whether due to some twisted kink or simply enjoying the carnage, there were plenty of unsavory reasons for such actions.

“Ladies Camille Reed, Penelope Vance, Brianna Moore, And Barbara Selmy.” The Princess introduced in quick succession, not bothering to properly introduce herself, as any halfwit in the court should know very well who she is.

Cosette gave the four of them a short nod, barely wanting to acknowledge them at all. “Cosette Rowan. Though I’m guessing you already knew that.”

In fact, since the fighting was over, Cosette wanted nothing more than to slip away. Even the Queen’s play sounded more enticing than gossiping with a group of insipid nobles.

“Barely.” Scoffed Penelope.

“What Penelope means, Lady Cosette, is that no one expected the great Lord of the north at court. It was so sudden, we don't know what to make of it, and even less what to make of your accompanying him.” Lady Barbara said, much more tactfully than her cohorts.

Cosette shrugged. “My journey southward was an unexpected development following my return home from the north. I was just as confused, and surprised at the fanfare surrounding the arrival.”

Alegra poured Cosette some wine and handed it over to her, not offering so much as commanding her to get comfortable. As she wasn't escaping her clutches for a while yet.

Cosette took the wine, grateful for something to dull her frayed nerves. Being in a combat arena didn’t quicken her pulse. But surrounded by five “proper” noble ladies with wit and tongues to match?
It took all her self control not to down the glass in one gulp, opting instead to take a sip.

“You were in the north? What would the north have for a Lady from a petty house in the midlands?” Alegra asked bluntly, curious.

They all were.

Cosette shrugged. “I was invited by your cousin to celebrate her birthday. If you’re dying to know why she wanted me there, you’d best ask Veora herself.”

Alegra exchanged a glance with Brianna.

Cosette knew partly Veora had wanted her to teach her archery, but that wasn’t something the princess needed to know. Nor did she need to know about the dire prophecies which Veora claimed surrounded all of them.

Prophecies which had a nasty habit of coming true.

“It was a dreadfully long journey, caused by the ridiculous amount of staff my father insisted on sending with me. Could’ve made the bloody thing in half the time on my lonesome.”

“On your lonesome?!” Alegra was not the only one to choke at that.

“I never…” Camille Rolled her eyes.

“Unattended… maybe those rumors are true.” Penelope noted unkindly. The implication being that an unattended Lady galavanting around on her own could not be guaranteed to even still be virtuous. Not to even make mention of who would be attending her while she ran around wild. Was she alone doing lowly tasks befitting the servile?

Cosette didn’t bother to suppress her eye roll.

“In the further north it isn't so odd for a Lady to be familiar with hunting and the like.” Lady Barbara offered.

“We’re all familiar with hunting Barbara, but why in the world you would go on your own in the mystery.” Alegra said, as though the girl was thick.

“I was magnanimously offering a masque for your barbaric manners Princess.” Barbara bit back.

“She's right you're being a I'm uncultured.” Penelope agreed.

You all sound like I'm uncultured, Cosette thought with a smile. Well, most of them. Barbara seemed okay. At least she wasn’t openly mocking.

Alegra laughed, “Claws sheathed! Apologies Lady Cosette we really are interested in someone different from all these dullards at court. I just get invigorated after a good spar.”

She winked at Cosette, and it was entirely true, she had yet to come down from the adrenaline rush.

Cosette flashed a devilish smile and tipped her glass toward Alegra. “I’m happy to give you a fight whenever you’d like, Princess. Wounded pride and all that,” she waved a hand dismissively. “No need to apologize.”

The adrenaline was still coursing through Cosette’s veins as well, perhaps it combined with the wine was why she felt surprisingly relaxed given her circumstances.

“Traveling alone, or at the very least a reduced party size would’ve been faster. And far less stressful as far as I’m concerned. Seems a waste to drag so many so far from home over one little party. As enjoyable as said party was.”

She chuckled. “I suppose the best thing to come from it, aside from the surprising lack of judgment regarding my well, savagery, was meeting my betrothed. Although that happened after we left Mountainkeep.”

The girls glanced at one another.

“Who?” Brianna was the quickest to ask.

Cosette blinked. “Lord Giles’ son, Ser Rhory. Your other cousin, Princess.”
“Oh you're going to marry him? Well blessed be someone will. Father always gets so weird about that frozen wasteland and he wanted me to consider Ser Rhory. Remember?...” She pointed around the room, scowling in disgust.

“I can’t imagine your spoiled royal derrière freezing up north with nothing to do and no court to entertain you.” Penelope scoffed, “You'd die of boredom or of the cold. One of those two.”

Oh what a bloody tragedy that would be, Cosette thought as she drained her glass. Seemed what little fun she had been having was quickly evaporating.

“And they're a bunch of barbarians those northerners, no culture no proper temples and openly heathanous.” Alegra pointed out.

Well, given all that had happened, Cosette supposed that was…somewhat fair. Though she didn’t think the worship of Odin and the Old Gods was any less valid then the worship of Aule. Perhaps because Cosette didn’t rightly care either way.

“Well I think that must be an exaggeration, never was there such a Lady as your cousin Veora is.” Brianna did not say that as a compliment.

Laughter.

Cosette’s eye twitched, and she sipped the last of her wine.

“And we love you for your contrary opinions Brianna.” Alegra returned, just as sardonic.

“I will say though her father is beautiful.” Camille noted.

“Isn't he married?” Penelope asked thickly.

“So?” Came Camille’s tarte reply. Sending the room into more haughty laughter. Cosette didn’t join in.

“It isn't as though he brought his wife with him, let the man have a little fun.” Camille shrugged.

Alegra rolled her eyes, trying to hide an amused and secret smile behind her goblet. She knew something these insipid little idiots didn't.

The gesture didn’t escape Cosette’s notice, though she didn’t voice the fact. If Alegra was hiding something, perhaps it would be beneficial for Veora if she managed to find it out.

“You sluts are never going to get married.” Alegra devolved into a fit of laughter, the rest of the girls joining her.

“Ah, and what a travesty that would be. To remain woefully single.”

With a sarcastic eye roll, Cosette reached for the wine bottle, intent on another glass.

“I was hopelessly resigned to such a fate before my father had other ideas. I’ve no idea what honeyed words he used to convince Lord Giles such a match would be anything less than disastrous.”

Nevermind the fact it was her own bloody fault this betrothal was happening. And that… Well, dammit Cosette didn’t really mind it. Not that she’d admit that to anyone.

“The fact Ser Rhory retains his father’s good looks does make the matter slightly less unappealing.”

This earned Cosette some laughter.

“You all speak for yourselves, I have plans.” Camille raised her goblet.

“With that bloody nose?” Penelope smirked.

“Shut up!” Camille scowled, wincing at the movement.

“Alright alright, I confess. I too have plans, no sense in ending up penniless and powerless. With no home or dower to call my own. I’m going to be in charge of my own household, marry someone old and on their deathbed.” Brianna bragged.

“Ugh.” Camille made a face.

“Agreed, ugh.” Barbara nodded emphatically in agreement. Cosette grimaced as well, the notion of having to bed someone older than her father made her stomach twist. Marriage was a lady’s only means of securing her future in most cases, that and producing loads of heirs for their husbands.

Deep down, she knew Rhory would expect the same, no matter how tactfully he may approach the subject.

“Well if Brianna can stomach it, she has much to gain I suppose… if she can stomach it.” Alegra downed the rest of her wine. Her own plans were unsaid, even though it was true. None here could escape matrimony unless they wished to be penniless and powerless all their days.

“Now let us go see what the eligible ladies of the court are doing to win my brother's favor.” Alegra tossed aside her empty goblet.

“Something dreadful no doubt,” Cosette rolled her eyes. “All the pity for us that we must watch.”
At least that got her out of this conversation. A conversation, as much as she loathed to admit it, wasn’t a horrid as it could’ve been.
The slander surrounding the north non withstanding.

Gods, she could hear Veora’s gloating now.

 

[The Witch Son]

Veora swept into the Empress's foyer with little preamble after the usher announced her. A formality on an endless list of formalities that would fill a noble’s day and create work for the servile. In this instance, both for the usher and for Veora, as there was no one in said foyer to announce her to.

She expected that there would be a stern Lady or two to size her up, but perhaps instead they wished to show her just how insignificant she was before swearing her to her majesty's service. To be humble was to be virtuous in a Lady, one must never forget their place. Even if you were of relation to those above you.

So Veora stayed standing as the click of the doors behind her closed. Eyes trained to the ground and hands folded in front of her.

Were she poorly instructed she may have been tempted to sit on one of the many cushioned seatings in the room, at one set at a table perhaps.

Perhaps that was their aim. To tempt her into error and arrogance, and swiftly deliver punishing correction so that she might understand her place in the pecking order. For Veora’s rank was of question here, higher than any of her fellow ladies in the Empress's service as an unwed daughter of a great house, but newer in her service and therefore lower by merit and position. She had no household of her own, no official duties as a lady in waiting, and no merit outs titles or lands. She was certainly not mother to any heir nor any other children.

Anymore.

Even so, she didn't think it was necessary to lower herself overmuch in comparison to them. After all, her role was still one of dignity. No need to act the kicked dog, she had House Grimald’s pride to uphold.

Lady Appleton entered, deftly closing the door behind her, and took her time sizing Veora up as she approached.

Veora did not curtsy. She was the daughter of a great house.

Lady Appleton did not curtsy either, as she ought to, but seemed to frowned instead, tilting her head to the side in consideration.

“Lady Veora…”

“Good morrow Lady Appleton.” Veora answered simply, her easy smile unreturned.

“I see you carry yourself with dignity, that is good, for the position you have been granted is one of great responsibility. You are to wait upon her majesty and attend her every need no matter how low or high. You are to be humbled before her but maintain the dignity of the Empress to others. For a slight against you will also now be a slight against her.”

Lady Appleton gave her a critical eye, “This means you are not to quarrel with others over petty matters, like suitors.”

“Ah, Lady Appleton, allow me to assuage your fears.” Veora could understand now what Lady Appleton was so guarded about her for.

“I have no intentions of participating in any such courtships during my stay at court. I leave those pleasures to my peerage, and commit myself fully to the service of the Empress, and in prayer to our holy lord.” Veora added, recalling how devout Lady Appleton is.

Lady Appleton’s brows raised nearly to her hairline.

“It is not oft one finds a young person so devout. After all, you are of age to be concerned about such things as your suit.”

“Indeed Lady Appleton, but I have so little of my mother’s guidance, and I was always told she was faithful. In following her lead perhaps I am closer to her memory, as I am to god.” Veora said demurely.

“Hm, well, in any case, you will find rarely such a position that rewards holy devotion as this one. We attend the temple service in the city at least once a fortnite, and there is an altar room for the nobility to attend their souls the rest of the time. The Empress must set an example for the people, and we aid her in this.” Lady Appleton impressed upon Veora once again the importance of her new position.

“I assure you Lady Appleton, I am ready to serve the Empress in all things. Including in my own personal conduct. I do not take this honor lightly.” Lady Veora patiently assured Lady Appleton once more.

“Good, good. You seem sensible Lady Veora, the young often lack that particular grace. Let us present you to her majesty.” Satisfied, Lady Appleton relaxed her shoulders a bit and led the way.

Veora followed, and entered into a room filled with elaborate rugs, cushions, drapery, tables filled with books and discarded emboridery hoops and the vague scent of burning incense.

In the middle, in a great chaise elevated above the cushions where the ladies sat the Empress lounged. Her makeshift throne, surrounded by her court.

“Lady Veora, I trust Lady Appleton was not too harsh on you.” The Empress's airy voice called out in good humor.

“Not at all your majesty.” Lady Veora swept down into a deep curtsy, the smile easy and genuine, for it was not difficult to smile at the Empress's charms.

After all, they had to be good in order to mask the iron underneath.

“Oh don't cover for her, I know her too well.” The Empress laughed and everyone laughed with her, infectious and filling the room.

“It's true, I am overly critical, but I must be.” Lady Appleton shrugged, smirking.

“See how easily she admits it.” Lady Fleur Garlan, the youngest of her majesty’s ladies at age thirty, said good naturedly.

“I am too miserly for shame Lady Garlan.” Lady Appleton scowled.

“You may rise Lady Veora.” Empress Alexandra beckoned.

“Do you so swear to serve me as my Lady in Waiting until such a time as I have released you?”

“I do so swear.” Lady Veora bowed her head.

“Do you swear to uphold my honor and the honor of your station?”

“I do so swear.”

“And do you swear to be virtuous and lawful in your conduct, in representation of my household?” Empress Alexandra said with finality.

“I do so swear.”

“Then I take you into my service gladly.”

The ladies present clapped, and Lady Veora was ushered to a cushion closest to the Empress.

Veora smiled warmly at all present, eight in total. Not as large a retinue as some Empresses or Queens have had, but chosen carefully for their competence and temperament. Veora knew that the Empress could afford to be picky about who her ladies were when her husband did not much care who she appointed.

His proclivities meant that he did not use the Empress's household to hide his mistresses in plain sight. For he had none.

She also knew the Empress considered this a blessing, not a curse.

No woman of any beauty, charm, or standing had ever stood in between her and her Emperor. He respected her above any woman in the empire, far and wide.

And the men, well, they were discreet, few in number, and never men of any rank or consequence.

If an Empress could not hope to be loved and adored by her Emperor, she could do much worse than the respect and power Alexandra had garnered.

Respect and power were a much more reliable thing to have than a fickle heart and waning affections.

“It is such a joy to be able to have my niece at my side, Lady Veora. I had so worried I would not see much of you during your stay here. You are only just debuted I believe.” Empress Alexandra noted.

“Yes your majesty, but I am more happy to spend my time in a useful fashion than I am in anything else.” Veora smiled up at her.

“What a precious answer,” Alexandra reached down and cupped her niece’s chin, “No wonder they call you clever.”

“They call me clever, your majesty?” Veora asked, surprised.

“No, but they will, I can tell. You have that unmistakable glint in your eye. My daughter is the same, though much more bold about it. Unfortunately.” Empress Alexandra made to get up, taking Veora’s hand as she rose up with her to step out from behind her accommodations.

“Cleverness is what we aim to measure today, in the eligible young ladies of the Empire. Tell me Lady Veora, are you well versed in chess?”

“I am your majesty.” Veora said diplomatically, avoiding mention that she was a notoriously brutal player.

“I am holding a chess tournament. To decide who amongst the ladies competing will play a Lady Virtue in an upcoming revel, and who chief amongst them will dance opposite of my son, the crown prince.” Alexandra continued to hold onto Veora’s arm as they all filed out of her apartments and into the hallway.

“As for the vices, those will be made up of volunteers. Those who did not place in the top eleven, but still wish to be part of the revel.”

“ You wish for me to help oversee these games?” Veora quessed the Empress's mind.

“Oh no child, my other ladies have the organization of this event well handled. Rather, I would like you to help me not fall asleep during what is sure to be a cruelly quiet afternoon. Your role will be to entertain me.” Empress Alexandra patted her hand in mock seriousness.

Veora laughed, “As your majesty wishes, so it shall be.”
_______________________________________________

A long and arduous day it did indeed prove to be, it was nearing supper now and the ladies who would be playing virtues in the revel had been decided, but the ultimate winner had not.

This had proven to be not just a challenge of the mind, but of fortitude as well. Many ladies who had not placed in the top eleven had left, having lacked the patience to stay until the ordeal was done.

Princess Alegra, curiously, had stayed the entire time. Had stepped away at some point to wash up and change attire, but had returned straight after. Most of her retinue had abandoned her, all except Ladies Camille and Brianna.

Cosette was all too happy to slip away as well, though she’d come with her sister rather then the princess. As fun as it had been to toss a weapon straight for her royal highness, Cosette had taken the earliest opportunity to slip away, citing the rather dull task of preparing for the revel, which her sister wished to attend.

Lucinda found actual enjoyment in such matters, watching the young ladies partake in what had to be the most intense rounds of chess one could imagine. All for the chance to dance with the prince. Cosette couldn’t imagine a more rotten prize to fight for.

Lucinda bidding her permission to leave was an act of divine mercy, one Cosette wasn’t going to squander. She beat a hasty exit before her sister changed her mind, sparing only a quick glance toward Veora and the rest of the Empress’s ensemble.

It seemed she’d taken to her role as a lady in waiting with little issue. Cosette would ask her about it, after they retired for the evening.

No doubt Veora would love to hear about Alegra’s victory in their sparring match. An outcome the precocious northerner had foreseen no doubt.

Other nobles flitted in and out as the day went on, whispering and pointing, taking bets, observing.

The Prince Tristan didn't show up until much later, until it was nearly over.

As the games raged on and the group of contesting girls battled one another the tables and chairs were cleared out. Until only one was left in the vast expanse of the ballroom, dead center.

Veora imagined the pressure was palpable as a rotating group surrounded the two girls. As for she and the Empress, the only time either of them had to do much of anything besides read, embroider and softly talk was when one frazzled girl who had made it into the last four had a bit of a breakdown after losing. Veora had acted quickly and escorted her out where she could calmly compose herself and rejoin. After all she had made it into the revel as a virtue, she needn't despair just because she didn't get her first pick of roles.

A cheer erupted. A winner had arisen.

Finally.

Those cheers greeted Cosette as she made her way down the hall, back to the seating where Lucinda had been. It could only mean one thing, a victor had finally been chosen.

Thank the heavens, Cosette thought as she made her way back to where Lucinda was still sitting. Cosette wondered if Luci really had stuck around all day, surely she’d have better things to be doing, especially with the boys back home.

“Tell me you haven’t been here the whole bloody time,” Cosette hissed as she slid back into her seat, melding with the cheering crowd.

“I’ll have you know I do have actual responsibilities in my house. I left not long after you did. But returned much sooner. I actually like these sort of things.”

Cosette scoffed. “Of course you do, dear sister. So then,” She looked center stage, curious to see who’d come out on top.

“Who’s the lucky lady?”

“Lady Hertha Mooton, congratulations. You have won the prize, a necklace, and first pick of the virtues in tomorrow's revel. You have proven yourself to be formidable of the mind before all, a virtue in and of itself.” The Empress announced.

Hertha Mooton’s chest heaved with excitement, she curtsied as a thunder of claps sounded behind her, accepting the velvet wrapped necklace she had won from Lady Esme Wynn and following her to where the Empress now stood.

To the side of her throne there was a little long table where various embroidered fans unfurled, in simple white silk there were eleven virtues, while the eleven vices were in black. The role belonging to each embroidered in opposite color, mirroring each other in design.

Hertha did not have to consider long, she chose to be Lady Perseverance. A well earned title, everyone agreed.

One by one each of the other ten top players chose their role, kindness, honor, constance, mercy, chastity, grace, obedience, innocence, piety, and meekness.

Until nothing but the vices were left to dole out.

“As promised, the revel will include volunteers, anyone may participate in a supporting role by choosing to take the role of a vice. So that our young heroes may rescue the virtues and begin the ball with a dance. An honor and duty in itself.” The Empress did her best to make the prospect sound more enticing than it was, as she knew that no one was going to want to step forward and play a vice.

No one especially wanted to be the first to step forward and do such a thing. It was silly. But convention tended to be, especially amongst those who had something to prove…

The room became still and no one moved for an uncomfortable moment.

Veora looked to her aunt, and then around the room. As a Lady of the Empress, she supposed fixing tense moments like this as a sacrificial lamb was part of her duty. And besides, she wished to further divide herself from the virtues competing for favor.

Let it not be said she had no sense of humor.

“To participate in a revel would be a great deal of fun, we do not have these in the north, it would be my honor Empress.” Veora curtsied to her aunt, and receiving no sign by her to cease, moved to the table.

The silence in the room somehow grew even heavier, except for a laugh or two that she paid no mind.

“Ah, I am told Lady Scorn has a thing or two to say to the presumption of our heroes does she not?” Veora picked up the fan and showed the crowd, smiling dazzlingly and fanning herself lightly. She strode to where the virtues stood and playfully scowled at them, hands on her hips in mock judgement as she paced their line. She earned their giggles and playful expressions back, already happy to pretend to be damsels.

“Who will join me in kidnapping these defenseless little virtues?” Lady Veora asked the crowd, turning around and surprised to see three already at the table choosing, and at her beckoning more followed.

Before long the vices, danger, strangeness, jealousy, unkindness, disdain, avarice, pride, disobedience, vanity, and cunning had been claimed.

 

[The Witch Son]

Entitled as ever, Alegra barged into her brother's main solarium.

Slowing down once she made her entrance known. Taking her time sauntering around the room. Pushing and prodding and picking up this bobble and that. Before she deigned to speak to her napping brother.

“Didn't the north take Lord Day as ward?” Alegra asked innocently.

“I believe so.” Tristan answered back, clearly annoyed.

“Why?”

“Why did they take him as ward? Stupid as always brother you see some ten years ago-” Alegra began curtly.

Tristan groaned rather loudly, “Alegraaaaa.”

“How rude! Here I am, wasting my precious time, only trying to help you-” Alegra gasped as she caught the apple thrown at her head.

“You boar no one should marry you at all!” She shouted, throwing it right back at him.

He dodged from the chaise he was lounging on.

“Now I’m not going to tell you anything!” Alegra threatened

“Alegra, my love, peace. Stop torturing your brother and tell us what you've come to say.” Calm as the still water of a lake, Empress Alexandra commanded her children with barely a strain of her voice.

The both of them snapped to attention as she entered the room, through the beaded curtains of the balcony.

“Yes mother.” The both of them chanted in near unison.

“I was only going to caution Tristan, lovestruck as he was when he met our cousin. Not to lose his head. Father already sent Princess Carina’s jewels to her room and yet what she wears today are bobbles on her ears made of shell again. Although they are kindof pretty, in their own way…” She trailed off.

Empress Alexandra seemed to understand what her daughter meant perfectly, but as for Tristan; “So?” He said thickly. Looking thoroughly annoyed at the turn of conversation.

“So?” Alegra looked disgusted with her brother’s idiocy.

“You what? You think wearing shell earrings means she's promised to the heir Day or something?” Tristan glared accusingly.

“No one but a desperate petty lord is going to allow his daughter to marry into that house. It's shamed and its region is the poorest in the Empire. Lord Grimald isn't a fool and frankly neither is Lady Veora, she's clearly sensible. There's no-”

Tristan was interrupted by his mother, “What Alegra means my dearest, is that the Lady Veora is sentimental. And whether or not she harbors feelings for another is irrelevant. She invokes the image of her mother and places herself in a familial angle to the throne when presented to us. Calling you cousin deliberately and asking for stories of Princess Carina from your father. And ever the perfect lady to me. It suggests that she isn't here to vie for the role of Crown Princess. Alegra means for you to guard your heart.” The Empress concluded.

Alegra gloated with a cocked brow and satisfied smirk at her brother while prince Tristan did a fairly good impression of a fish. Mouth agape and closed and agape again.

“Don't be ridiculous! Of course she's here for that. Every eligible woman in the whole empire is here for that. What reason could she possibly have to not be here for that.” Tristan got louder as he went on, gesturing pointedly.

“She chose to be in the revel!” He pointed out.

“As a vice.” Alegra shot back. “You won't be dancing with her you'll be rescuing the other ladies from her.”

“There's something else. Your father has informed me of something that has happened up north, it's why Lord Grimald is actually here. He seeks justice for a false missive that bore your father's seal, announcing that House Day rebelled. And to take the head of Day’s heir.”

“A false missive? How?” and “He still has his head I take it.” Came at the same time from Tristan and Alegra respectively.

Their mother hushed them with a hand.

“What's more, word will reach court soon, something else happened that Lord Grimald will openly deny, and so will we.”

“How did they know it was false?” Alegra suddenly asked.

“A prophecy was made. At Lady Veora's debut, her birthday feast. It warned them ahead of time.” Alexandra muled that over as she said it aloud. Clearly skeptical.

“A prophecy.” Alegra scoffed, it was her turn to gape like a fish.

“It may or may not involve Lady Veora in some way. But given the circumstances of that… Tristan I do not think she is suitable as a match.-”

“Father gave me my choice-” Tristan protested against his mother.

“He bid you to choose wisely and suitably, Lady Veora is of the north and she intends to return there. The north might be willing to tolerate her split faith but you know the church will not. She has dark rumors following her and-”

“And she is far superior in intellect, wisdom, patience, and grace than any other suitor you can name. Mother, even you have to concede that you like her.” Tristan jumped up, urging his mother to see things his way.

“Your choice can not be divisive Tristan, it is not just about competence but suitability.”

“Oh hang the church, I can make them bend to my will, and if I can not then I will make their will matter less.” Tristan paced, agitated that they could not see what he saw.

“Oh? You think you can best mother and father in handling the church? Good luck to you brother.” Alegra scoffed. The church had long been a thorn in their side.

“And that is without taking into account the willingness of Lady Veora herself Tristan…” Alexandra cautioned sternly. “The role of Empress is far too demanding to give to an unwilling person.”

“Don't… don't be ridiculous.” Tristan straightened himself, “There would never be any need to force anyone.” He looked uncomfortable.

“Oh sweet flames of Aule take us.” Alegra rolled her eyes and collapsed on the chaise.

“And remember.” The Empress urged, “None of this is to be repeated to anyone.”

Only Alegra had someone she would be telling…

“What rumor’s could possibly be dark enough to taint her anyhow?” Tristan asked his mother.