"Please, Your Majesty, can you tell me the full account of what actually transpired in Ikdes? I've been asking for the past 30 diers, but you haven't given me any answers." Lauviah begged with sheer desperation.
Lamentably for the Countess, the Emperor did not indulge her unrequested presence from the beginning. A nonpartisan method of His Majesty in dealing with people whose company he did not covet to acquire.
It was painful for Countess Lukan to gain treatment comparable to that of a withering apparition. Nothing but woe assaulted her grieving heart at the austere behaviour that the Emperor was showing her. However, she felt inclined to accept this side of the Monarch, justifying the boundless admiration that she had for him.
It seemed that there was an antecedent affecting his mood that was worse than usual. Hence, eventually, she assisted herself out of the Emperor's study to avoid infuriating him any further, defeated and broken.
The Countess then sauntered down the corridor, leading her to the exit of Frumier palace. In the midst of her stroll, she spotted three unusually hurried men coming towards her direction.
"State your business with His Majesty." She quickly called them out, curious of their objective.
They must not have heard nor noticed Lauviah, seeing that their pace did not ebb in speed once they passed her by. The unintentional incivility irked the woman for some reason, so she increased the volume of her voice.
"How ignoble of a gentleman! Can't you even give your greetings to a noblewoman?!"
Mikhail halted his steps, though he remained facing forward. It made Sarakiel and Zelel do the same, but they supplemented their's with a bothered countenance.
"How incongruous of a noblewoman. First, you failed to acknowledge the presence of nobles higher than your rank. Second, you're not cloaking your misapprehension that you can somehow replace the Empress who is currently absent in her duties. Right then, greetings and adieu to you, Countess Lauviah Lukan." Mikhail casually spouted sin upon insult on the Countess.
Needless to say, Countess Lukan did not take that pleasantly.
"Prepostero-!"
However, Mikhail was not done interfering in the woman's agony.
"Borrowing the words of the Emperor - The truth will not befall in the minds of those who are unconcerned or undeserving of it. You belong in the latter."
He subsequently carried on with his walk en route where the Emperor was, leaving the woman pompously frozen on her spot. His two tolerant companions sighed, wondering why Percival entertained Lauviah's anger. Their sympathy was not as callous as Mikhail's. Zelel thought that it was too cruel of Mikhail to admonish the Countess as such.
"You could have phrased it a little better than that, My Lord." Zelel shared his sentiments with the Knight Commander while on their urgent amble.
"That woman has been doing farcical nonsense for as long as I can remember. Besides, she should've seen that we're in a hurry."
'Weren't you the one who stopped and responded to her, wasting a bit of our time in turn?' - Was what Zelel wanted to say, but ultimately refrained from doing so.
"Still, she could solely be concerned about the state of politics within the noble community. After all, the nobles are persistent in pressing the Emperor to be joined in holy matrimony soon. They're recommending just about every eligible lady from their own factions. She's blocking that for the Emperor's peace of mind." Zelel elucidated, believing that it would lessen Mikhail's contempt for Lauviah.
Athwart to his expectations of getting an approval, it was another 'accusation' on the Countess that Zelel gained.
"It is evident that she wants the Empress' throne."
"That will only be noted until proven, My Lord. I trust Lauviah as a fellow comrade. We've come a long way."
"That is why you often get taken advantage of, Zelel. Do not be lenient in dealing with a clear act of opposition. You are the prime minister, so be more cavilling."
The Prime Minister's shoulders tensed up upon harking the criticism of the commander of the Rounds. He knew that it was a lapse in his judgment to be a tad optimistic, considering that a myriad of people was observing his every movement.
Their conversation ended exactly afore the entrance to the study. Sarakiel, who did not partake of his portion in the discussion, stepped forward. Thereafter, he knocked and announced their presence.
"Your Majesty, we have returned from our visit to the Soltis palace.", The Duke said as he pushed the door open.
It was not necessary to await for the Emperor's approval. Since the room was surrounded by a one-sided sound cancellation barrier, they wouldn't hear the most boisterous of explosions perceivable by man as it happened inside.
When they ingressed the confines of the study, the trio immediately saw the Emperor seating at his usual place behind the desk. As a courtesy, they noiselessly made their way to a comfortable spot for a conference. None of the retainers initiated the talk, in view of His Majesty focusing on the article he was perusing over.
The reverberation of parchments being flipped in a constant interval hung in the air, providing some comfort to the anxious souls.
"Speak." The Emperor commanded once he finished reading the stack that was in his hand, turning to stare at his subordinates right after. He leaned on his seat as he decompressed himself.
Meanwhile, Sarakiel lowered his head and respired a couple of times before taking the platform.
"Your Majesty, it was a complete failure. Neither did we learn of the definite cause of the Empress' comatose nor cure her. Withal, we detected two unusual spells that became a source of torment for Her Highness."
The Emperor nodded, urging the Duke to continue with his report.
"The spells are named Vraxhen Riol Ferashnevrin and Ekshralon. Are you familiar with them, Your Majesty?"
"I am not familiar with those spells. Explain them to me as soon as the issue is resolved. Inform me forthwith on how I can support you." The Monarch implicitly told the Knight to discard the unimportant details - The approach being their priority.
Aware of his propensities, the three men dived deeper than the shallowness of the order. In essence, their master was advising them to abuse any means possible to achieve their goal of bringing the Empress back to full health, easy or difficult, good or bad.
"Prior to anything else, the least thing we can do for Her Highness is to heal her without compromising the lives of others. Limit yourselves with that condition."
"As you wish, Your Majesty," Sarakiel replied on behalf of his comrades. He didn't invite the thought of killing people for the benefit of one, so he was glad of the Emperor's decision. Howbeit, he celebrated too early.
"Ierathel's gift did not work. Am I correct?"
"Affirmative, Your Majesty. If I may be presumptuous, how did you know of the gift's existence?"
"Ierathel did say that he gave you something. That Angel's aura was oozing out of that spell, thoroughly potent that I sensed it from here. You were careless."
"It won't happen a second time, Your Majesty. It is unfortunate that my most powerful card was not effective." Sarakiel stated as a matter of fact.
"Well, if worse comes to worst, you can sacrifice the prisoners in Yvarin to summon the Holy Grail."
The eyes of Sarakiel shook as he clenched his fist, bewildered of the words that came out of the Emperor's mouth.
"But Your Majesty, the prisoners located in Yvarin ar--"
At that point, Sarakiel met the gaze of the Emperor, making the lad cower in fear. He suddenly felt suffocated in the ensconce of the commodious room.
"Enough, I won't accept any objections. This empire is greatly indebted to the Empress. Do not dare insert your measly hesitations in this duty, Duke Helian." The Emperor interceded Sarakiel's qualms with a stern reprimanding, sans raising his voice.
The Duke hurriedly knelt on one knee and bowed his head. His insides were still trembling of panic.
"I profusely apologize for my ludicrous worry, Your Majesty."
The Emperor simply sighed at his knight's deportment, tired of squandering valuable time when they could've been deliberating on a plan.
"Arise, Sarakiel. You're forgiven, so let's proceed."
Duke Helian laggardly stood up, yet to discard the disconcert in his system. He kept his head down, finding it strenuous to utter a word. Mikhail remarked the aphasic state of the Duke, so he spoke as a substitute. He's cognizant of the specifics anyway.
"Your Majesty, do you remember the scroll that we found in Borso Archipelago four aethras ago?"
The Emperor glanced over Mikhail's visage, measuring the knight's intentions. He did not appreciate the emergence of a query related to that scroll.
"Why do you ask?" His Majesty enunciated with a final caution in his tone, prompting his retainer to waver for a second.
"Well, the spell that's engraved on it-"
Percival knows that he was now hanging on a thin rope.
'The Emperor did warn me to not mention it in any form of discourse. Withal, there is a chance that it could work with my plan.' The knight thought as he toughened himself up for the possible implications of his bold inquisition.
"What of it?"
"Please hand it over to me. It's a spell belonging in the first tier of Deo Cixu, isn't it?"