It had felt like ages since he'd last seen the royal palace, but he knew it hadn't really been all that long. After having seen Warrenhold, the Golden Fort, Marshrock, Dunehall, and the Swallow's Nest, Hector now felt an even greater sense of appreciation for this place. Despite all that competition, Bosliat Palace did not pale in comparison. Sure, it may not have been as big as Warrenhold or the Golden Fort; nor did it have a particularly eye-popping gimmick like Marshrock's rock or Dunehall's sand or the Nest's defensive structure, but it did have a certain "regalness" to it, he thought.
Perhaps it was the national colors that did it. The more he looked at it, the more it seemed as if the blue-and-white flag of Atreya had been imbued into the building itself, somehow.
And perhaps it was, in a sense.
After receiving the invitation to the Gala, Hector's curiosity had been piqued, so he'd been looking up the building's history during his rare moments of downtime--which usually meant reading off his phone while he was out patrolling Gray Rock. He remembered vaguely learning about the palace in school, but he certainly didn't remember any of his teachers telling him that it had been built as part of a declaration of independence.
Economic independence, that was. No actual rebellion had been fought, but Bosliat Palace had played a key role in accomplishing that feat--of securing the nation's borders without bloodshed. Of course, it had also helped that the Mohssian Empire had already been fighting five other wars at the time and probably hadn't wanted to make it six.
The idea that this building, with its turreted towers and sprawling gardens and dozens of guardhouses, was designed to be the proud, beating heart of an emerging nation, to represent Atreya as much as the sun-and-stars of the flag did--that made sense to Hector.
It had felt like ages since he'd last seen the royal palace, but he knew it hadn't really been all that long. After having seen Warrenhold, the Golden Fort, Marshrock, Dunehall, and the Swallow's Nest, Hector now felt an even greater sense of appreciation for this place. Despite all that competition, Bosliat Palace did not pale in comparison. Sure, it may not have been as big as Warrenhold or the Golden Fort; nor did it have a particularly eye-popping gimmick like Marshrock's rock or Dunehall's sand or the Nest's defensive structure, but it did have a certain "regalness" to it, he thought.
Perhaps it was the national colors that did it. The more he looked at it, the more it seemed as if the blue-and-white flag of Atreya had been imbued into the building itself, somehow.
And perhaps it was, in a sense.
After receiving the invitation to the Gala, Hector's curiosity had been piqued, so he'd been looking up the building's history during his rare moments of downtime--which usually meant reading off his phone while he was out patrolling Gray Rock. He remembered vaguely learning about the palace in school, but he certainly didn't remember any of his teachers telling him that it had been built as part of a declaration of independence.
Economic independence, that was. No actual rebellion had been fought, but Bosliat Palace had played a key role in accomplishing that feat--of securing the nation's borders without bloodshed. Of course, it had also helped that the Mohssian Empire had already been fighting five other wars at the time and probably hadn't wanted to make it six.
The idea that this building, with its turreted towers and sprawling gardens and dozens of guardhouses, was designed to be the proud, beating heart of an emerging nation, to represent Atreya as much as the sun-and-stars of the flag did--that made sense to Hector.
And indeed, Hector had read the historical accounting of the ambassador of the Mohssian Empire who had been largely responsible for convincing the emperor to grant Atreya its independence. In the account, the ambassador had arrived in this brazen little country to chastise its newly appointed King Domitrus and negotiate terms of a legal retraction, believing that a nation with such comparatively little land would have no other choice.
However, according to the account, the ambassador began changing his mind almost immediately upon seeing Bosliat Palace, because he didn't think there would be enough wealth in the entire nation to create such a grand structure.
It had made one hell of a first impression, in other words, and the king and all of his supporters had furthermore been able to follow through and change the ambassador's view of them so radically that Atreya's independence was officially recognized by the Mohssian Empire in less than a year.
Weirdly enough, Hector had never really felt or put much thought into national pride, but reading that had stirred something inside. Just a bit.
An odd feeling. Especially considering he'd already met the Queen and even fought for her. Multiple times. Shouldn't he have been feeling this way about Atreya all along?
He couldn't recall the school system ever evoking any sense of nationalism in him. Which was strange, wasn't it? Shouldn't they have been teaching national unity or whatever?
Eh, maybe they had, and he just hadn't been paying attention. In fact, that seemed like the most likely explanation, the more he thought about it.
He'd been thinking about what he would say if he were to be asked what he thought of Atreya--which, tonight, might very well happen. It was a tough notion to wrestle with. In the end, he felt like his allegiance was more to simply protecting innocent people, but he certainly knew that there were limits to that. There was only so much that he could do. And if he overextended himself, then the people who were already safe under his protection might very well end up in danger again.
Lives were on the line here. With a whole castle full of people waiting for him back in Gray Rock, Hector felt like he'd been too naive in the past. He needed be realistic about things now.
As he stepped out of the black SUV and onto the blue-striped carpet, he tried to push his anxiety down as far as it would go.
Which wasn't very far, sadly--not with all the cameras and microphones and eager reporters in front of him. The path forward remained clear, at least, thanks to a team of burly guardsmen holding the news crews behind a velvet rope, but the shouting and shuttering of cameras was still plenty distracting.
Oh man.
Jamal Easton was already there in front of him, having stepped out first, and Amelia Carthrace was stepping out behind him.
The Rainlords had also put up something of a fuss about letting him go to the Gala alone. They'd repeatedly told him that he should take a team of servant bodyguards with him, but the obvious issue with that was the Rainlords' infamy. As much as Hector might've liked to bring Diego Redwater or Dimas Sebolt or someone else along, it wouldn't do if the Vanguard saw their faces on camera. Sure, the Gala was not an international event, but it wasn't like it was a national secret, either.
But the Rainlords had nonetheless been insistent. And the solution that they'd come up with was to simply avoid sending anyone recognizable. Hector had outright refused a full team of bodyguards, believing that would be more intimidating than protective, but he did decide to accept one Rainlord bodyguard, at least.
Matteo Delaguna was the chosen young man's name. Hector had seen his square face and heavy gaze a few times before, but that was it. The guy couldn't have been much older than him, probably not even twenty years old. His reaper, Ernivoc, accompanied them as well.
Matteo seemed to be taking his role as a bodyguard pretty damn seriously, too. He even dressed like one, complete with a dark suit, black tie, and sunglasses. He'd barely said anything since they'd left Warrenhold, though that was just fine with Hector. Ernivoc and Garovel talked plenty in their stead.
But it was weird, having this extra body around, following him like a shadow. He'd just been starting to get used to Jamal's frequent presence, and now there was this guy.
Hector felt like maybe he should've asked him some questions or something. Tried to get to know him better, maybe.
He felt that way. But he didn't act on that feeling, which ended up just making the feeling worse.
Agh.
Baby steps, he supposed.
It didn't help that that he had about a thousand other things on his mind, as well. In between conversing with Ernivoc, Garovel had privately been explaining to Hector about all of the intel he'd been gathering recently about the various Atreyan nobles, and even now, as they were walking down the greeting carpet toward the palace, Garovel was still coming up with new things to tell him.
'Ah, see that guy?' The reaper pointed subtly forward with the tip of his scythe.
'Yeah?' said Hector, noting the well-dressed, gray-haired gentleman whom he was referring to.
'That's the Lord of House Vollier right there,' the reaper said. 'Domitrus Vollier. Important guy. Arguably the richest man in Atreya, right now.'
That name caught Hector by surprise. 'He's named after the first king?'
'Yep. Heh. Surprised you picked up on that. I'm proud of you.'
'Even first graders know who King Domitrus was,' said Hector.
'Exactly my point. That's very advanced historical knowledge for you.'
'Shut up.'
Garovel kept pointing notable people out to him as they continued toward the main entrance. It provided him with a helpful distraction, but even so, the walk felt like it was taking an eternity.
And everyone was staring at him, he realized. Not just the cameras but the other lords, too.
He just had to walk. And breathe. Walking and breathing. He could do that.
In theory.
Holy fuck, this was way too much attention. All the lights on him, the eyes, the noise. The weight of it was almost physical, as if he were suddenly moving underwater.
He'd known it was going to be like this, of course, but he still couldn't help feeling overwhelmed.
He could help showing that feeling, however. He just had to keep his thoughts and his actions separate, to maintain a poker face. Maybe that wasn't going to look particularly welcoming or friendly, but at least it would be better than looking like a panicking wreck. And at least it was something he'd been getting considerable practice with, too.
'How we doin', buddy?' said Garovel as they neared the enormous double doors with inlaid silver ornamentation. 'You're looking a little rigid there.'
He honestly didn't know how to answer that. Almost there. Just a bit farther. The long, flat steps up to the doors were only six in number, but they were beginning to look like a mountain climb unto themselves with so many people crowding the edges of the path.
Oh god.
'C'mon,' said Garovel. 'Keep talking to me. You can do it. You don't want the people of Atreya to see their fearless hero freaking out on national television, do you?'
'...That's not helping, Garovel.'
'Well, you're talking to me, so I think it is.'
He might've frowned if he wasn't so intent on keeping his face like stone.
Miraculously, he managed to make it up the steps and into the building. The noise from outside began to fade slowly, and a sharply dressed woman appeared in front of him, bowed, and then motioned him to follow her.
He did so.
He spotted more nobles loitering around the massive welcoming chamber, talking amongst themselves and throwing glances his way. Apparently, the press hadn't been invited inside yet, but Hector was fairly sure that they would be eventually. As he understood it, most of the Gala was going to be televised.
The guide led him through a number of rooms, and Hector relied on the Scarf to scout ahead a little. He was trying to make out where the Queen and Lynn might be. It was probably safe to assume that they were together, he figured, but there were just too many people around to tell. Bosliat was positively bustling with activity. He could only imagine how busy the palace's staff was.
Then, abruptly, Hector realized that the guide had taken him to a familiar room--a small offshoot of the main dining chamber. He'd previously had dinner with the Queen here, he recalled. That was when she'd decided to give him Warrenhold.
And lo and behold, there the woman sat again. With Lynn standing beside her.
Hector was still feeling locked into his poker face, so he didn't smile, but the corners of his mouth did edge up ever so slightly.
Wow, it was good to see them. Safe and well, seemingly.
The Queen was looking more queenly than ever, he thought strangely. It was probably because of her dress. He'd never seen her wear anything so elaborate and flowing. It covered the entire booth she was seated at, draping over the side and sprawling across the floor like a sparkling blue carpet.
And her crown. She wasn't wearing it at the moment, but it was sitting right there on the table in front of her. A circle of silver, lined with gold and topped with sapphires in the shapes of stars. He'd seen it a few times in a history book or on television, but laying eyes on it in person was providing a decidedly different feeling.
He was perhaps the most keenly aware of Lynn's presence, however.
Her uniform was a little more elaborate than he recalled, too. The Atreyan Seal and the crest of House Belgrant were both woven into her collar. He remembered that she'd often taken to wearing her white cloak while on duty, but the one she was wearing now bore long silver stripes and boasted miniature Atreyan flags at each shoulder. It also had a deeply black interior, perhaps to conceal pockets or to be reversible.
She still had her eye patch and sword as well, of course. And her bone half-gauntlet was concealed beneath a glove, but Hector had no doubt that it was there, too.
And damn.
He was torn, wanting to both stare at her and to avoid eye contact.
"There you are," said the Queen upon seeing him. "I am glad you were able to arrive before the Gala was officially underway. I doubt we will have much opportunity to speak privately tonight--certainly not before midnight." She gestured to the other side of the table. "Please, come and have a seat, Lord Goffe."
Hector made his way over. Lynn was watching him like a one-eyed hawk. He thought she might say something, but she didn't, and he sat down.
Oh shit, he was probably supposed to say something here, wasn't he? "Ah, uh--thank you, Your Highness..."
Helen smiled warmly at him. "It is very good to see you again," she said. "In truth, we had been growing quite worried about you."
"Oh, ah... yeah. Er. Sorry about that..." He glanced between her and Lynn. Mehlsanz was there as well, he noticed, floating up from behind the Queen's enormous gown.
"I understand you had quite the eventful trip," said Helen.
"That's... one way of putting it, yeah."
"I wish I could hear all of the details, but from what Amelia told me, it would be quite a long story, and we have other matters to discuss."
'Not to worry,' said Garovel. 'I'll tell Mehlsanz all about it later, and then she can relay it to you.'
'Yes, I think I'd rather hear it from you than Voreese,' said Mehlsanz.
'Heh. I'll let her know you said that.'
'Oh, god, please don't.'
"I am, however, very curious to hear about these 'guests' who are currently staying at Warrenhold," said the Queen.
Hector had been wondering when that would come up. He'd known that Madame Carthrace had told her about them.
He considered his next words carefully. He knew that he shouldn't keep any of the important details from her, but it was still tough to know where to begin. He supposed he should just get the hardest part out of the way, though.
"...They're fugitives from the Vanguard," he told her.
For a moment, the Queen merely looked at him, her expression tightening. Then she exhaled and averted her gaze. "And here I was worried that they might be on the run from Abolish." She rubbed her brow with a manicured hand. "This is far worse."
"...Sorry," was all Hector could think to say. He glanced at Lynn, who seemed more interested with the Queen's reaction.
Helen took a long breath. "I assume you have a good reason for bringing them to Atreya?"
Hector had had plenty of time to prepare for that question. "They're good and noble people," he said. "The Vanguard was in the wrong. And, ah... Abolish attacked them, too. They were kind of desperate for help, so..."
The Queen nodded. "So you volunteered." She still did not sound terribly pleased. "I also understand that they are... warriors, of some sort?"
Lynn was looking at him again, he noticed.
"...Yeah," said Hector. "They're... well, they're incredibly powerful, actually."
"Wait," said Lynn, her one eye widening, "these aren't the Rainlords you went to help, are they?"
Hector head reared back a little. "Er, yeah, they are. I... thought you guys already knew that."
Helen's eyes widened a little now, too. "You brought the Rainlords back from Sair with you?"
He gave a small nod. "Ah, well, about half of them, anyway. The other half was captured by Sanko."
"You fought Sanko?!" said Lynn.
"What? No, I didn't fight her. The other half of the Rainlords did. And, er, they lost." He was little surprised that Lynn even recognized that name, but after a moment, he supposed he shouldn't have been.
The Queen was rubbing her brow again. Suddenly, she looked a lot more exhausted than she had a minute ago.
"...Madame Carthrace didn't tell you they were Rainlords?" said Hector.
"No, she did not," said Helen.
That was surprising. When she'd said that she'd "told the Queen about their new house guests," Hector had just assumed that she'd informed her of everything she'd been learning about them while managing Warrenhold's affairs.
Clearly, he should not have assumed that.
Bah. How amateurish of him. Not very lordly at all.
"How long do you intend to give them refuge at Warrenhold?" the Queen asked.
Now there was an important question. He exchanged looks with Garovel, wondering if he wanted to chime in here, but the reaper merely nodded at him.
"...As long as they need," said Hector.
The Queen expression tightened again. "Indefinitely?"
"Well, they've been driven out of their homeland," said Hector. "But they're very... proud, to say the least. I'm sure they'll want to go and win it back, sooner or later. I'm just hoping that it'll be later."
"Hector." The Queen rested her hands on the table and interlocked her fingers together. "I know you have only been back for a handful of days, but even so, you must realize that Atreya does not need this manner of trouble, at the moment."
He frowned, knowing that her mood was probably not going to improve after what he was about to say. "Ah... honestly, I don't think the Rainlords are going to be a problem. But I do think someone else will be..."
"Excuse me?" said the Queen.
There was no good way of putting this, he felt. "You know who Sai-hee is, right?"
Helen blinked at him a couple times. "Please tell me Sai-hee is not going to invade."
"Oh, uh, she's not. I mean, not as far as I know."
Helen did not look very reassured.
"...But I did bring another fugitive from her group with me," said Hector.
At that, the Queen actually buried her face in her hands.
'Mm,' said Garovel, 'if I could butt in for a second here, I feel like maybe Hector isn't explaining the situation quite as well as he could be.'
The Queen did not look up, but she did answer through her hands. "Do go on, then, Garovel."
'Well, y'see, we didn't really have a whole lot of options with this Sai-hee fugitive. This guy isn't one of the Rainlords, by the way. In fact, they kinda hate him, at the moment.'
'I'm not sure your explanation is any better,' said Mehlsanz.
'Look, okay, we get it,' said Garovel. 'It's a precarious situation. But it's also an opportunity like no other, right? Like Hector said, the Rainlords are incredibly powerful. And right now, we're on quite good terms with them.'
"Yes." The Queen removed her hands from her face and took another breath. "Amelia mentioned that these guests of yours might make for valuable allies. I, however, remain unconvinced."
Abruptly, Hector realized that Madame Carthrace had not followed him into this meeting. Jamal and Matteo weren't there anymore, either. With the Scarf, though, he could sense that they were waiting outside the room with a pair of royal guardsmen. He had no idea where Madame Carthrace had gone, though.
'That's perfectly understandable,' Garovel was saying. 'I encourage you to come to Warrenhold and meet them yourself.'
The Queen gave the reaper a flat look.
'We don't really have the time for that,' said Mehlsanz. 'And all eyes are on us. It was difficult enough arranging this meeting here without drawing the attention of the entire media. If we visited Warrenhold, it would make it that much more difficult for you to keep your "guests" hidden--which I assume you wish to continue doing?'
'Yes,' said Garovel, 'but if nothing else, then at least YOU could come, Mehlsanz, and give them a look.'
'Mm, perhaps. But I'm a busy girl, too, you know. And besides, I don't think Helen values my opinion that much.'
The Queen gave her a flat look, now.
'Heh, well, if that's true, then maybe she's right to not care about your opinion,' said Garovel.
'Excuse me?' said Mehlsanz dryly, though Hector heard a hint of amusement in her voice.
'You can't just revive someone and then expect them to treat you like a sophisticated intellectual,' said Garovel. 'I know I make it look easy, being this obviously smart all the time, but trust me, it's a whole ordeal unto itself.'
'Careful,' said Mehlsanz. 'You and I are old friends, but not THAT old.'
Garovel just chuckled.
"This fugitive from Sai-hee," said the Queen, apparently wanting to get the conversation back on track, "tell me about him. You said that you did not think these Rainlords will be a problem but that you think someone else will. You were referring to this man?"
"Oh," said Hector, "ah... yeah. He's... well, his name's Leo. He seems to trust me, but... ah... he might be under the impression that I'm... one of the oldest servants in the world."
The Queen expression remained blank, and she just stared at Hector for a time.
Hector and Garovel did their best to bring the Queen up to speed with regard to what had happened with Leo in the Undercrust. It ended up drifting all the way back into what happened at Dunehall and even into Marshrock, and by the end it, Helen and Mehlsanz were looking more bewildered than ever. Even Lynn was eyeing him as if he was suddenly a different person or something. It was always tough to tell what was going through her head, though.
'But anyway, enough about us,' said Garovel at the protracted silence. 'Tell us about what's going on with you. We'd like to help, if we can.'
'It sounds like you already have your hands full,' said Mehlsanz.
'Yeah, well, if we can help you with your problems, then maybe you wouldn't mind helping us with ours.'
"I am not certain how I could help with this Leo character," said Helen. "He sounds rather unstable. Do you have a particular tactic in mind?"
'We have a few,' said Garovel, though Hector wasn't sure if that was a lie or not. 'But for the moment, I don't think we'll need your help in dealing with him. The way Hector talked about the man was a bit foreboding--and not unduly so, perhaps--but as for me, I'm optimistic about our relationship with him. I think Hector and I will be able to bring him around and count him as another valuable ally and protector of Atreya.'
The Queen regarded Hector and Garovel both another time. "I see. Forgive me if I seem skeptical. I have had few reasons for optimism, of late." She removed her hands from the table and folded them over her stomach.
"I can imagine," said Hector. He wanted to say something more, something reassuring preferably, but nothing was coming to mind.
"This financial crisis," the Queen said slowly, "it is... my failure. So many of this nation's problems might have been avoided if I had only been more attentive in these last five years."
Hector observed her face with silent surprise. He'd been seeing her all over the news lately, giving speeches and the like, and she always looked so confident and composed. But here and now? Hector had never seen her so uncertain.
Come to think of it, her worried reactions earlier were a lot more expressive as well.
It put a question in Hector's head.
"...Is the crisis even worse than the public realizes?" he asked.
The Queen met his gaze but didn't answer him.
Perhaps that was an answer in itself, though.
"...Madame Carthrace wants to open a bank in my name," said Hector.
Helen's eyes drifted away from him, seemingly in thought. "A bank? Why would she...?"
"Ah... she seems to think that, er... that my reputation would be able to help stabilize the economy. I mean, I don't know if, uh... if that would work, but... eh... that's what she said."
The Queen seemed lost in thought, but she still managed to say, "I see." And then, after a beat, "Interesting."
Hector supposed he shouldn't stop there. "She, uh... she also wanted me to ask you for funding for it."
Helen frowned at him.
"Ah--if you can't help, though, then, er, I understand..."
She sighed mildly through her nose and shook her head. "At this time, I am afraid I can offer you no such assistance."
'Really?' said Garovel. 'I don't want to give you a hard time, but it seems a little odd that you wouldn't choose to subsidize a potential solution to the main problem facing the nation. Or HELP subsidize it, at the very least.'
The Queen's frown deepened. "I would if I could," she said.
'It's that bad, huh?' said Garovel.
'It is,' said Mehlsanz. 'We're already running on fumes, as it is. The Gala? Everything you see here tonight? Bought with funds borrowed from Intar.'
'Intar, huh?' said Garovel. 'Well, it's true that they've got plenty of money to throw around, but I can't say I like the idea of Atreya being indebted to them.'
"Nor do I," said Helen, "but it is all we can do to keep up appearances, for the moment. Why, if not for David's silver tongue, I doubt even they would have agreed to lend us any more."
'And now they're pressuring us to grant special privileges to their businesses. Their influence is growing stronger by the day.'
Well, that corroborated what Madame Carthrace had told him, Hector figured.
He would've much preferred to learn that she'd been wrong.
'I see,' said Garovel. 'So, then, what's your strategy moving forward? If things continue on like they have been, then it sounds like you won't be able to keep up appearances for much longer.'
At that, the Queen was silent for an uncomfortably long time.
Hector studied her expression, as well as Lynn's, and he couldn't help worrying about what he was seeing. Their solemn gazes. Their aversion of eye contact.
This wasn't right at all. He was the one who was so supposed to be afraid of eye contact, not them.
At length, however, the Queen finally answered. "It may already be too late," she said. "I know you are expecting me to say that I have some grand plan to save the kingdom, and if you were any other of the other lords here tonight, I would say exactly that. I would tell you what I thought you would wish to hear--indeed, what I would wish to hear. But with the two of you, at least, I feel I must share the fullness of my thoughts on this matter, terrible though they are."
Hector's own expression hardened as he listened, bracing himself for whatever he was about to hear.
"I fear there may simply be no way out of this particular crisis," said the Queen. "Not for me, at least. Not for the Crown."
Hector was confused. He waited for her to explain what she meant.
"Atreya will survive," she went on. "There is no doubt in my mind about that. Because Atreya is its people. And we are a hardier bunch than I think even we ourselves realize. We are tough and often underestimated." A thin smile crossed her lips briefly. "I would say you are a fine example."
Hector might've blushed if he wasn't more concerned about where this was going.
"And perhaps I am being overly dramatic," she said. "It is not as if I will be gutted and thrown out onto the street."
Hector couldn't hold his questions any longer. "What are you talking about? Why are you saying all of this?"
For a short time, the Queen merely looked at him, her eyes softening before seeming to find their steel again. "This information is not yet public, but... Intar has offered to annex Atreya."