“SO MY FRIEND, how is His Highness feeling?” I asked, taking a sip of wine from a small silver goblet.
Leif René, owner of the Copper Cauldron, had his head chef preparing an excellent rabbit ragout with Bertrand’s close supervision. I was going to serve it today for lunch to the Baron de Levy.
Jean-Louis looked gloomy and pensive. And no wonder — the events of the last few days, to put it lightly, were not the kind to put one in a cheery mood. We had returned from Varglund to the capital city of Vintervald a week earlier, and the whole ti there had been a lot of turmoil in Prince Louis’ embassy.
As a person who had essentially been coerced into this trip with the argunt that it was “my duty as a nobleman” to accompany His Highness Prince Louis, it was quite arresting to watch Carl III’s youngest son’s inner circle over the last few days.
Just a month earlier, these sa people had been tripping over each other to curry favor with the King of Vestonia’s youngest son, draping themselves head to toe in green bands. But today, they were packing their things to return to Herouxville without their deeply adored Prince Louis.
It was all down to the news about Carl III being at death’s door. Nobody knew yet the details of what had happened to the king. Either it was a poisoned magic arrow or a magic crossbow bolt, but there were already rumors swirling among the Vestonians that their sovereign had decided to personally take part in the siege of a Bergonian fortress called the Château de Lumière, which had been occupied by the Atalians and there had been struck with so incurable vile substance.
For the entire week, not a day went by that another ssenger didn’t co to Fjordgrad dispatched by relatives, patrons, and representatives of various princes to deliver correspondence for barons, viscounts, and counts who had traveled here with His Highness Prince Louis’ retinue.
It was not hard to guess what was written in the letters. Based on how fast the gentle aristocrats left Fjordgrad, Prince Louis’ green card had not co up on the draw.
The struggle for the Vestonian crown now revolved around the red and blue parties. And forr greens were hurrying to attach themselves to the strongest group.
But there were also people who were not going to abandon Louis. Those who had nothing to lose, or whose fortune was directly tied to the youngest Vestonian prince. Jean-Louis, who was now dining in my room, was among the latter.
“His Highness is still despondent over the terrible news,” he responded to my question. “As are we all, my friend.”
Despondent? Hardly! I saw the way the prince’s countenance blossod when his valet told him about his father’s injury. Louis looked like he’d just woken up from a dream.
Helga and Astrid also saw the triumphant smile on the prince’s face — Louis didn’t even seem to be trying to hide his delight. I saw that Helga was slightly bothered by the prince’s behavior. Astrid’s high forehead also sprouted a very fine wrinkle. She was clearly upset. All that led to believe the Princess of Vintervald was all too aware of why the news of the king’s injury struck Louis that way. She must have known about her rival.
Recalling that morning, I found myself rubbing my temples with the tips of my right-hand fingers. It was hard to fit their visit into my plans, particularly in view of what had happened in my sleep. The issue was that when I fell asleep, my enhanced body started healing itself without my involvent. When I finally woke back up, I discovered that the wound on my shoulder looked like ten of the most talented healers in Mainland had been working their magic on it all night.
Based on the suspicious looks being shot at by Astrid and particularly Helga, who was a powerful healer herself, my health had caught them by surprise. I had to quickly invent a story about miracle potions I’d acquired from an eastern alchemist. Heh… In the end, it cost six bottles of enhanced elixir. Then the prince’s chamberlain rushed in, and all attention turned to the bigger problem…
Now, I wanted to know why Louis was still in Fjordgrad instead of flying on the wings of love to Herouxville to be with beloved Blanca de Gondy. After all, the man who ordered him to marry this northern princess was now at death’s door if he was not in fact already dead.
In other words, there was nothing more keeping Prince Louis here. Honestly, as far as I was aware, he had no one expecting him in Vestonia either.
Blanca de Gondy was clearly not intending to bind her fate to the junior prince, who now had no chance of wearing the crown of Vestonia.
I suspected that events in Herouxville now ant that the green prince would be safer staying up north. The red and blue parties would very soon start vying for supremacy and it was likely soone would get the bright idea to knock the little green figurine off the board. To keep him from mucking things up.
I figured Louis’ inner circle, those who truly remained loyal to him, were perfectly aware of that. And the fact the lovelorn prince was not racing headlong to Herouxville was because of them.
For the record, the news of the king of Vestonia’s mortal wound, given he was ruler of essentially the largest kingdom in Mainland, had stirred upper aristocratic circles in Northland, who were now packing to go to Fjordgrad for the Great Trial.
That played into my hand. The attention of all the konungs and jarls was now focused on recent news about world politics and my duel with Eirik Irontooth had faded into the background.
I of course was not feeding any illusions about Konung Harold’s forgetfulness. I rembered his hate-filled gaze. He was sure to try and “repay the favor.” But I was ready. And if I had to make a preemptive strike, I would do so without a second thought.
“Yes, my friend,” I nodded, surfacing from my thoughts. “I’m sure that His Majesty’s healers know what they’re doing.”
Jean-Louis breathed a heavy sigh and stared pensively out the window of my hotel room. He practically hadn’t touched the ragout and was more taking to the wine. I understood his mood. The prince he had served so loyally all these years and who he owed for his promotion, had lost his position before his very eyes.
Truthfully, the Baron de Levy as a person had earned my sympathies sohow. During our trip north, I was able to get to know him better and ca to the conclusion that Jean-Louis was the kind of person who was not so easy to break. But today I was getting the impression that sothing had changed. It was the first ti I was seeing him like this. Sullen, contemplative and lost…
For so ti, silence reigned in my hotel room. I kept eating quietly while Jean-Louis clenched the goblet fitfully in his hands and thought tensely about sothing, staring out the window.
Finally, he breathed a heavy sigh as if erging from underwater and stared directly at . Based on the look in his eyes, he seed to have co to a decision of so kind, and I suddenly realized that it involved as well.
“My friend,” I ca in a penetrating voice. “I know you to be a noble person and you have proven many tis that your honor as a nobleman ans a great deal to you. Which is why I’m not asking you to swear an oath. I need only your promise not to tell anyone what I am about to share with you. I want to assure you now that your silence will do nothing to besmirch your honor, or that of your family na. If you wish to remain in ignorance, simply tell and I will say nothing.”
I stared into Baron de Levy’s eyes. I didn’t exactly need the wisdom of Solomon to be aware of what Louis’ inner circle wanted out of . I certainly didn’t believe that Jean-Louis invited himself to my place for lunch on his own initiative. The quickly thinning ranks of the green party, the capricious prince’s inappropriate behavior, the less than reassuring news from Herouxville — all of that required imdiate action to hold onto what little remained.
Basically, those who had nothing to lose and those whose position depended directly on Prince Louis were looking for new moves and new allies. And I wasn’t the least bit surprised that they were now turning to .
The thing was that after my duel with Eirik Irontooth, my rating among the Vestonian nobility had shot through the roof. People paid attention to who used to be disgusted to even glance my direction. As a matter of fact, a few of the Vestonians who had already left Fjordgrad had invited to join them.
Those who had decided to join the blue party were particularly eager for to leave. They argued that Prince Heinrich held strength and personal valor in high esteem, so he would be sure to take under his wing. And as for the reception at Max’s aunt’s, His Highness had probably already forgotten the vexing awkward situation that had arisen that night because of . Sure, of course…
Okay, I would hear them out. But out loud, I said:
“I promise you, my friend, that everything you and I are about to say will remain between us.”
“I never expected you to say anything else,” Jean-Louis ca with a smile while sighing in relief.
“Okay, you have my undivided attention.”
Setting aside the goblet of wine, the Baron de Levy leaned forward slightly and, lowering his voice, started to say:
“You have probably already noticed that our embassy is losing delegates by the day.”
“Of course,” I smiled. “It would be hard not to.”
“You’ve probably also gotten a ssage from your uncle, the Count de Gramont with detailed instructions.”
“No, I haven’t received any ssages,” I shook my head.
Jean-Louis glanced at in surprise.
“Odd… As far as I’m aware, your cousins got a letter from their father this morning.”
I just shrugged.
“I can only be happy for my cousins because they have such a caring and attentive father. But as for … As I already said, I haven’t gotten any letters. Not from my uncle the Count de Gramont, and not from my aunt the Duchess du Bellay.”
Jean-Louis rubbed his chin thoughtfully and considered it for a second. I anwhile decided to hurry him along. Otherwise this conversation threatened to take a long ti. After all, I still needed to visit the Crafting District to inquire about the progress on my armor and weapons.
“I suppose you wanted to discuss Prince Louis’ return to Herouxville?” I asked. “As far as I am aware, Vestonia’s participation in the Great Trial has been suspended and His Highness would like to get underway as soon as possible so he can be there for the reading of his father’s last will and testant. Although, as I said, I don’t believe His Majesty will give up so easily. Especially with the best healers in the country at his side.”
Jean-Louis shuddered slightly at the sound of my voice. He rubbed his puffy chin and said:
“I should tell you, my friend, that matters are sowhat different than that… His Highness will remain in Fjordgrad and abide by his father’s will. I see you’re surprised?”
“More like a bit baffled by His Highness’ decision,” I replied. “Being up north has clearly had a depressive effect on him.”
“I assu you’re referring to the prince’s infatuation I heard so many courtly rumors about?” Jean-Louis asked directly.
“Exactly,” I answered just as directly.
“Well, I can tell you confidently that everything has changed,” the Baron de Levy stated. “Blanca de Gondy is no longer the object of His Highness’ affection. Recently, the prince received a letter from Herouxville which made him even more depressed than he was after he found out about his father’s injury. Nobody knows what the letter said or who sent it, but I know one thing for certain — after reading it, His Highness was outraged, talking angrily about how he had been betrayed by his brother, Prince Heinrich, and Blanca de Gondy. He even gave an order to prepare to depart, but sothing happened, which is specifically what I ca to discuss with you.”
“I’m all ears.”
I had a hard ti not laughing. I’d have bet my hand the little letter about Blanca de Gondy and Prince Heinrich was the handiwork of one of the greens.
They would not benefit from Louis’ departure. Here up north, there was hope for an alliance with Vintervald. If Lord Gray, who did not seem to be planning to go anywhere, prevailed in the trial, Princess Astrid would beco Louis’ wife and then he would have support from Sharptooth.
I wondered what kind of trick they’d played to convince Louis?
“The issue is…” the Baron de Levy lowered his voice and looked at the front door.
Hm… Now this was sothing new. Jean-Louis could be called all kinds of things, but not a coward. What I was seeing now was clearly fear.
“Don’t worry,” I reassured him. “One of the most powerful strykers in the north is standing on the other side of that door. Trust , no one is going to bother us.”
Jean-Louis glanced at . Seemingly, he felt ashad by his passing weakness. I just smiled approvingly, letting him know that nothing of the sort had happened and I was not mocking him.
“Continue, I am listening closely. You spoke of so event.”
Baron de Levy nodded and continued in a firr tone:
“The gods must be upset with our prince for so reason. Because that very evening, over dinner, His Highness’s wine taster started feeling unwell, and it was his duty to sample every wine before it could be served at the prince’s table.”
I frowned. Soone else must have been behind these tricks.
“Are you saying soone was trying to poison His Highness?”
“Yes,” Jean-Louis nodded. “The poor wine taster was dead within the hour…”
“Have you found out who is responsible?” I asked, continuing to frown.
“No,” Baron de Levy shook his head. “But we do know they were not local. The bottle of poisoned wine was from the personal stocks of the prince and was brought here from Herouxville. That was what I wanted you not to share with anyone else. Only a few people are aware of the assassination attempt, those most loyal to His Highness. If the others hear about it, we might lose all our supporters. They’re fleeing like rats from a sinking ship as it is.”
Jean Louis again reached for the goblet and drained it. I could see this was not easy for him to talk about. He was clearly very angry at his forr cohort who quickly fled as soon as the going got tough.
“You have my word,” I nodded. “So that ans an unknown group of enemies were planning to poison His Highness ever since he left for the north.”
“And those enemies would not like an alliance between Prince Louis and the daughter of the konung of Vintervald,” Jean-Louis nodded. “I should note, Princess Astrid took active part in the issue. She does a lot to support His Highness. To tell the truth, if not for her, our Prince Louis would have lost heart entirely. When Princess Astrid found out about the severe injury His Majesty sustained, she first wanted to convince her father to give her and her future husband a band of five thousand northerners to return to Herouxville and punish the people plotting to poison His Majesty. Can you imagine, my friend?! His Highness Prince Louis entering the capital at the head of his very own army!”
Baron de Levy’s eyes lit up.
Oh yes! I could only imagine… Carl III hadn’t even yet given up his soul to the gods, and the northerners were already planning a march on his capital. After all, there was also Prince Heinrich, the Dukes de Gondy and de Bauffremont… Hmm… I was getting the feeling I would have to find a less restive country before too long.
“Honestly,” Jean-Louis continued, imdiately straightening up, “it would all still be possible if Lord Gray wins the tournant.”
Our conversation was interrupted by a knock at the door.
“Co in,” I permitted.
Bertrand appeared on the doorstep.
“Your Worship, a footman has co from your elder cousin Viscount Gabriel de Gramont,” he reported, extending a small envelope. “Here is the ssage he delivered. He said he would wait here for your response.”
Apologizing to Baron de Levy, I accepted the envelope, opened it quickly and read the contents. It was imdiately obvious that Gabriel had devoted more ti to calligraphy than fencing. His handwriting was beautiful, rounded, and neat. The letters were even with a pleasant curliness.
I finished reading and looked up to say to Bertrand:
“My answer is no.”
The old man bowed in silence and left the room. I looked at Jean-Louis who sized up with a tense gaze. I saw that he had already guessed what the letter was about. Honestly though, it had a bit more in it that he wasn’t going to like…
“As you said, my cousins got a letter from the Count de Gramont,” I ca. “Ordering them to return to Herouxville. They’re leaving tomorrow.”
“I assu you were also instructed to leave Fjordgrad?” the baron laughed.
“As I already ntioned, no letters ca for personally,” I responded and added: “Also, the Viscount de Gramont told that Lord Gray’s fiefdom, which the king bequeathed to him, has been attacked by the Count de Blois.”
That wiped the smile right off Jean-Louis’ face. Chalk white, he bounded up from the table and ran out of the hotel without saying another word.
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