Chapter 101:
Quarry
"Sir Willis?" The maid who answered the front door seemed surprised by the sudden appearance of the dying king's closest advisor, "Are you here to see the young master?"
"No, I'm here to see Duke Cyneric. I know he was not expecting me, but I hope he's available for a short discussion." Willis adjusted his tall, lace collar as he paused for a moment, as if thinking, "Though I had heard that the young marquis is feeling unwell. How is he?"
"Sir Willis!" The steward appeared out of nowhere, stepping in front of the flustered maid as he bowed to the king's advisor, "I apologize. I had not heard you knock, or I would have answered myself." The steward turned his sharp eyes towards the maid, his smile seemingly warm, but the cold glare in his eye caused the maid to shrink, "I believe the head maid was looking for you."
The maid curtsyed at both men before she hurried away in a panicked frenzy. She knew by the steward's stare that she was in trouble. She had only answered the door, because no one was around. If she did not get fired for this, she promised herself she learned her lesson.
"Are you here to see the duke, sir?" The steward asked, his back straightening as he brought his hands in front of him.
Willis nodded with a smile, "Yes, though I heard the young marquis has been unwell for the last week. How is he?"
The steward smiled sadly before he stepped to the side and opened the front door wide, allowing Willis to enter the duke's grand mansion, "His condition has improved immensely, thank you for your concern. Though he is still unable to see anyone. It seems this illness is quite contagious."
"Poor thing," Willis tsk-ed, shaking his head, as he stepped inside. As he removed his hat and jacket, passing it to the waiting steward, he said, "I hope he is able to overcome whatever afflicts him soon."
"Thank you for your concern. The doctor said it is a bad cold, so I'm sure he will feel better soon." The steward bowed, holding Willis's hat and jacket gently in his hand, "Let me see if the duke is available for an audience. I will return shortly."
Just a cold? What a convenient lie. Willis thought to himself as he nodded to the steward in response.
As the steward walked away, Willis glanced around him, taking in the decor of the foyer. The foyer followed a simple elegance in its design, with tall, plain walls that had well-placed, expensive art pieces delicately hanging around the room for visiting guests to admire. Comfortable benches were placed near the door, with a soft, embroidered runner following the length of the long foyer.
Everything had a place, and everything was absurdly clean and neat. Its perfection was almost uncomfortable.
Just like the duke. Willis thought to himself coldly as he examined a piece of art on the wall. It was a high-quality scene of a pond, with wildlife growing all around the peaceful pond. A young boy, in the middle of the painting, was leaning over the side of a pond as he looked down in wonder at his reflection in the water. The observant eye could see the young boy was about to fall into the pond, and his parents were standing far off to the side, blissfully unaware of their child's coming fate.
Yes, very much like the duke.
"Sir?" The steward said, coming to Willis's side, "Master is waiting for you in his study. Please." The steward held out his hand, a gesture for Willis to follow him.
"Lead the way." Willis said with a practiced smile.
As Willis followed the steward, slipping into the nearby study with a calm silence, there was a flurry from another part of the large mansion, a part far away from the eyes of guests or listening ears.
There, in the room where a certain young master had locked himself away as he reeled from his horrible grief, was a flurry that the grieving young master, nor anyone else in the mansion, had not anticipated.
Lying in a ball, on the top of his pale duvet, was Alywin. He could no longer cry, but every few minutes, his body spasmed and shook painfully, tensing all of his exhausted muscles. His eyes were flushed red, raw and painful from the stiff, dried tears lining his cheeks. He rubbed his eyes again and again, yet the tears did not cease, and his discomfort only grew. Even his lovely golden curls were frizzy and in disarray, marking how terribly the few days had passed since the incident.
He hated the silence, but he also found it oddly comforting.
A knock at his window immediately drew him out of his thoughts, and he sat up, blurrily looking over at the large bay window. Ducking down on the small attached balcony was Clarence, who urgently knocked again as he glanced all around him, his blue eyes full of concern as he moved slightly, pushing his body closer to the tall window.
His eyes widening, Alywin slid himself across his bed and popped the window open. Clarence sighed in relief and pushed the window open more before he slipped inside the quiet room, stepping through the window frame with an arching step, until both of his feet rested on the ground in the room. The window was hastily shut behind him before any words were exchanged.
"Phew, that's not as easy as it used to be." Clarence muttered, rising to his feet and dusting himself off. He then glanced over at Alywin, who stood, watching Clarence in silence. Clarence's shoulders shrunk as he weakly smiled, "Are you mad at me? I'm sorry, I've been meaning to come see you, but-"
Clarence was not able to finish his sentence, as Alywin slammed his body into Clarence's, Alywin's thin arms wrapping tightly around Clarence's back as he held on to his dearest friend as if Clarence was a lifeline.
"He killed him." Alywin cried, choking up as he tried to say the words he would not allow himself even to think, "Right in front of me."
Clarence stiffened, confused and alarmed by Alywin's words. Clarence put a hand on Alywin's back, trying to comfort him as he asked as calmly as he could, "At the engagement party? When you were with Malcolm?" Clarence paused for a moment, thinking, "Who was it? Who did Malcolm kill?"
Alywin clutched Clarence's shirt tighter, but he could not bring himself to say the name.
"It's alright, Alywin. You can tell me. And I'll do everything I can to help you."
"It's all my fault. I was going to set up Malcolm. I had him hit me in the face. I was going to scream and draw everyone's attention, so they could see the crown prince's cousin abusing a noble. I just wanted to ruin his reputation. But," Alywin squeezed his eyes shut as he gasped for air, his lungs burning, "But Theo. Theo saw. He tried to protect me. And Malcolm-" Alywin shook his head, refusing to say more.
"Malcolm killed him?" Clarence paused, trying to take in what he was hearing. He had been so busy trying to get revenge, he had not realized his closest friend was dealing with such a horrible situation. Damn that elf. He's used his elven magic to blind me to what has been happening around me.
"I'll kill that bastard." Alywin whispered, his hands clenching the smooth fabric on Clarence's back.
Clarence frowned, the pain and anger radiating from Alywin seeping into Clarence, "I'm sorry I wasn't there to help you, Alywin, but I am now. Wait until I ascend the throne. I'll banish Malcolm from the kingdom."
Alywin pulled away from Clarence, shaking his head, "No, it will be too late at that point. I know Malcolm. He wants the throne, Clarence. He'll never let you have it if he can help it."
"I couldn't kill Malcolm. It would be obvious who had done it." Clarence said, furrowing his brows.
Alywin sighed, resting a hand on Clarence's arm. Just a slight touch made Alywin feel alive. For just a short time, Clarence was pushing away all of the dark emotions Alywin was contending with since Theo's death, "I wanted to ruin his reputation. Though he is your cousin, he isn't invincible to public opinion."
"By having him slap you?" Clarence asked curiously, resting his warm hand on Alywin's. Alywin weakly smiled at the gesture, enjoying the warmth of Clarence's hand on his.
"No, by accusing him of trying to attack me. I was going to say that he followed me outside, because he saw I was alone, then became angered when I denied his advances. Even with my reputation, no one would stand beside a royal who is accused of attacking another man."
"Then what can I do, Alywin?"
Alywin pulled his hand out of Clarence, wrapping his arms around Clarence as he rested the side of his head onto Clarence's chest, "Just stay. Please. We can make plans in a little while. For now, I just want to stay like this."
"Alright," Clarence said with a little laugh as he leaned back, putting his weight on his hands, "This is just like when we were kids."
"Yeah, except you were the one always clinging to me." Alywin said, cracking a small smile as he reminisced of happier days.
"But then you started trying to kiss me." Clarence said as he thought of the past, "And all that time I thought it was a peasant ritual or something like that."
Alywin let out a weak laugh, his chest vibrating against Clarence's, "You were always such an innocent child. Too bad I corrupted you."
"If I was corrupted, it's because I wanted to be." Clarence said, looking down at Alywin. Alywin could feel Clarence's gaze on his, but refused to look up to meet his eyes. He knew his determination and hatred would waver if he met Clarence's eyes.
"Your Majesty!" A whisper at the door startled both men, causing them to quickly separate as they looked at each other with surprise.
"Did someone know you came here?" Alywin whispered as he glanced at the door.
"Only a handful of people. Just in case someone noticed I went missing." Clarence responded, quickly rising to his feet, "Something must be wrong." Clarence hurried over to the door, his hand on his sheathed dagger as he cracked the door. A hushed whisper caused Clarence's back to stiffen immediately. As Alywin rose to his feet, watching the interaction, Clarence nodded, then shut the door.
"What happened?" Alywin asked urgently.
"I have to return to the palace immediately." Clarence said, grabbing Alywin gently by the shoulders, "It's a long story, but I promise, as soon as everything is handled there, I'll come back to explain, then we can make a plan."
Alywin looked down, desperately wanting to ask Clarence to stay, yet he knew he could not, so he looked back up and smiled, his lips pressed into a thin line, "Okay."
"I'll be back soon." Clarence said, squeezing Alywin's shoulders once more before he went over to the closed window, cracked it open, and slipped out, waving once more before he leapt from the balcony.
Silence overtook the room again, and the momentarily warmth in the room eroded immediately with Clarence's exit. Alywin sighed, bringing his hands to his face as he tried to ignore the horrible, negative feelings that were festering inside him, now freed with Clarence's absence.
"So that's why you had me slap you."
Alywin's eyes widened as he dropped his hands to his side, whipping around to look at the owner of the voice. Malcolm smiled at Alywin, his eyes dark, as he shut the bedroom door behind him.
"What are you doing here?" Alywin hissed, glancing at the shut door, then the slightly cracked window, "How did you even get in here?"
"I missed you." Malcolm said, his expression growing dark, "I tried visiting you multiple times, but your servants kept turning me away. And then your father had the audacity to tell me that you were ill, and were taking no visitors, so I needed to stop dropping by. He of all people should know that you're mine. I can come and see you when I want." Malcolm approached Alywin, who stepped back, glancing over at the open window. Malcolm followed Alywin's gaze, shooting out his hand to grab Alywin's arm, "Don't think about escaping now. Do you know how much work I had to do to allow us some time alone?" Malcolm brought his other hand up, sliding his fingers up Alywin's free arm. He smiled when he felt bumps raise on Alywin's pale arm, "We have so much to talk about."
Alywin froze, dread and fear locking his limbs in place as he looked into the eyes of Theo's murderer.
"Let's talk." Malcolm smoothly said, his grip on Alywin's arm tightening.
…
The afternoon sun had just risen, and Charlotte was enjoying her afternoon tea with her youngest lady in waiting, Matilda, inside her sitting room. While Matilda had learned proper tea etiquette, she behaved in a more relaxed manner in the private company of Princess Charlotte, and the two exchanged pleasantries as Charlotte's personal maids stood to the side of the room, quiet as church mice as they dutifully waited for orders from their young mistress.
"Your embroidered handkerchief had a beautiful design, my lady." Matilda beamed, discussing a handkerchief Charlotte had prepared for Prince Clarence shortly after their engagement had been announced. Now that the finishing touches had been completed, she was preparing to present it to the prince. The said handkerchief was resting inside the drawer next to Charlotte's bed, hidden away for the right opportunity.
Charlotte smiled as she listened to Matilda, feeling a sense of pride as she thought of the delicately embroidered handkerchief. In the Bethellian Kingdom, it was customary for new wives to embroider their husbands a handkerchief with a symbol of their family or of a symbol familiar to the two, such as a rose. In Charlotte's case, she had embroidered Clarence's family crest into the corner of the handkerchief in delicate blue and gold threading, matching the prince's birth colors.
Matilda and the other ladies in waiting had caught glimpses of the unfinished product, but they had not seen the finished embroidery, as Charlotte had it carefully hidden away to prevent anyone with loose lips from spoiling the surprise for Clarence. She wanted to surprise him before their wedding, just as her mother had done for her father.
"The wedding preparations have already been made, haven't they, my lady?" Matilda said, her eyes sparkling full of wonder as she thought of Charlotte's wedding.
Charlotte smiled, quietly placing down her tea cup as she responded, "The wedding will take place in early spring, sometime in April. We have discussed getting married once the Yursinean lilac flowers blossom, as I would love to have them at my wedding." Charlotte's expression was gentle as she continued to speak, a light pink tint covering her cheeks. "The queen has already contacted the royal seamstress to prepare my wedding dress. I am impatient for the day Clarence will finally see it."
Matilda's eyes were wet with tears, full of joy, "No one will be as beautiful as you, Lady Charlotte! I am sure the prince won't be able to take his eyes off of you."
The lady-in-waiting was young, and though both of their futures had very much been decided for them, Matilda still wished for a fairytale-like romance as she had dreamed of as a child, much like they had read with their nannies. Charlotte had familiar dreams when she was as a child, and though the hopes for a beautiful wedding still rested within her, her dreams of a blissful marriage were quickly wilting. At least she had found a husband near her age, a young, smart, and handsome prince. Her ladies in waiting had the same ambitions, but they were still bound by their fathers, attempting to make connections with other kingdoms regardless of their own feelings.
"The wedding will take place in the garden, near the gazebo of the main courtyard." Charlotte spoke as if she were reminiscing, joy evident on her face. "We will be surrounded by our families, our guests, and the spring Yursinean flowers. I cannot wait for that day." She sighed gently, her eyes sparkling with unspoken anticipation not only for the wedding, but for a future life of happiness that she would acquire herself.
As the conversation trailed off, there was a shallow knock at the door before it was impatiently pushed open. Charlotte did not have to look up to see who had come. Charlotte's knight had returned from his duties, greeting the princess and her lady in waiting before he stood to the side of the door, if completing his duties. However, Charlotte found herself directing a short, pointed stare at her knight as she set down her half-full tea cup and said with a frown. "The tea has gone cold. Please bring a fresh pot." Charlotte said, the pair of maids, noting her knight's reappearance, followed their lady's command and grabbed the tray with the teapot before they tactfully left the room after Charlotte's knight's abrupt entrance.
An unseen conversation was exchanged between Charlotte and her knight, and shortly after the maids had been sent away to retrieve more tea, there was another shallow knock at the door, alerting of another person at the door. The wedding discussion was cut short as the knight opened the door from the inside and stepped aside, exposing the figure that had come.
"Lady Reed, your presence has been requested." A palace maid said as she stood in the doorway, bowing her head formally as she delivered the message she had prepared.
"As we get closer to the wedding date, I find we have less and less time. In the near future, let's meet again and I will teach you how to embroider more complex patterns." Charlotte spoke in a gentle tone as she smiled at Matilda. "Until then."
The young woman bowed, her eyes misty and full of appreciation. "Thank you, Princess Charlotte. I shall return at a later time." Matilda's steps were light as she quickly left the room, her mind dreamy as she thought of learning how to embroider as lovely patterns as Charlotte had. Charlotte's knight stood to the side as Matilda saw herself out of the room.
Now that the room had been emptied, Charlotte placed away her kind smile and directly spoke to her knight in a direct manner. "What did you find out?" Charlotte asked as she stood up, leaving her half-full tea glass on the saucer in front of her, the room filled with the faint scent of earl grey tea.
Charlotte's knight had already closed the door behind him and slowly approached the young princess as he lightly bowed his head. "I was able to meet with the guards watching over Prince Clarence's prisoner."
"And?" Charlotte asked impatiently, her arms crossed over her chest. Her fingernails dug into the thick fabric, but she continued to stare expectantly at her knight.
Her knight, Basch, straightened his back and made no delay in relaying the pertinent information to his lady. "The guards provided very little information, however I was able to learn the identity of the prisoner." He paused as he saw Charlotte's brows furrow. "The prisoner is an elf."
"An elf?" Charlotte's brow raised. She knew of the prince's vehement hatred of elves after he was attacked at his birthday celebration as a child. All of the kingdoms knew this. "What is so important about this elf? Why is the prince interacting with them personally?"
"It is rumored that the elf attempted to kill the prince." The knight explained, his eyes dark as he stared forward at Charlotte, as if knowing what she would say next.
Charlotte looked at the half-finished tea cup with disgust. She rolled her lip and said to her knight, "I see. I would like to meet this so-called elf my fiancé is so fascinated with."
Her knight stood in front of the door, unmoving as he stared towards the young princess. "I do not believe the dungeon is an appropriate place for my lady to go."
Charlotte stood tall, her heeled shoes tapping against the tiled flooring as she walked around the sofa towards the door, moving past her knight at a brisk pace as she then said with a hint of irritation, "You can either follow me to the dungeon or stay here. I will not stay idle, Sir Basch."
The young princess was gentle, but very stubborn in private. As her loyal knight, Basch had grown to know the lady as if she were his own sister, yet even if she were to make a decision he did not agree with, he would have to follow closely behind her, keeping her safe as much as he could. As much as he wanted to shield her from the prisoner in the dungeon, he knew there would be no pleasant ending to doing so.
Opening the door to her sitting room, Charlotte's knight held open the door as Charlotte held the train of her dress in the crook of her arm, the thick velvet fabric trailing against her pale skin.
I have to see just who is taking so much of my fiancé's time. The prisoner was a threat to her future marriage to Prince Clarence, and it was time for her to evaluate the threat. I can handle him seeing another woman, but an elf? Since Clarence refuses to act, I'll take care of this interloper before they can cause any more problems.
The other court woman had discussed the dangers of mistresses. Charlotte's role was to provide the Yursinean throne a new prince, another heir to inherit the throne. If another woman were to try and take her role, especially an inferior woman, they could possibly sway the naive prince with their pillow talk and produce an heir of their own, creating more difficulties for her own child to take over the throne, and weakening her royal placement.
Yet what truly incensed Charlotte was the thought he was seeing an elf. If word were to leave the confines of a trusted few who knew, Clarence's reputation would be destroyed, which would ruin Charlotte's position as his fiancée. Her family would never forgive her if something like that happened.
It would not happen. It could not happen.
I've finally found my happiness. I won't let anyone take that away from me. Charlotte stepped quickly down the hall, her knight close behind as the guards watching the halls bowed their heads as she passed, her head held high as a natural born-royal. No words left her lips, only the sounds of her impatient footsteps, her sour mood leaking from her very pores as she tried so desperately to maintain a cool facade to hide her frustration.
As she neared the dungeon, her heart began to pound in her chest, a foreboding feeling overwhelming her as she shoved her feelings down, allowing Basch to lead her forward into the dark and dingy dungeon. Knights lined either side of the walls, scattered amongst the cells as they monitored the prisoners with scrutinizing eyes. They, however, could not hide their surprise as they watched the young princess walk down the cold brick halls of the dungeon.
"Greetings, Princess Charlotte. Why have you come to the dungeon?" One of the leading knights, a protector of the dungeon, was the first to inquire about the princess.
Basch answered for the princess in a cool tone, "We have come to question Prince Clarence's prisoner in his place."
The leading knight had heard no such information from the prince, and he could not help but ask, "My apologies, Princess Charlotte, I was previously told that the prince had requested the prisoner had no visitors."
Charlotte smiled sweetly at the aging knight, her words full of the sweetness of a baked pastry. "It seems the prince had not spoken to you regarding my visit. My, he's been so busy, I wanted to help him reduce his workload any way I could." She rested her hand on the side of her face in an innocent fashion and said, "I thought the prisoner may be more willing to speak to a woman. Clarence has been trying to get him to speak, but I can help him." She blinked, flickering her long, dark lashes like a fawn.
"Your Highness, please forgive me, but I can not allow you to enter. It has been ordered by the crown prince himself that the prisoner shall have no guests." The knight spoke again, feeling a trail of sweat line the side of his face as he followed the prince's words, knowing the consequences of insubordination in the palace.
Charlotte found her impatience boiling over as she wordlessly looked towards Basch, who stepped forward with only a simple glance from his lady. Stepping in front of the leading knight, Basch towered over the man as he looked down and said in a low voice. "The princess has requested to see the prisoner."
The knights nearby were not close enough to see the exchange, but they felt the air tense as the leading knight and Basch stood close together, the pressure intensifying at each passing breath.
"You shall not enter, sir." The leading knight repeated, his expression falling another degree.
Without a word of response, Basch's large hand covered the door to the prison cell, where the mysterious prisoner was being housed. His hands were covered in heavy armor, but his grip was strong enough to produce a groaning sound from the handle of the door. The metal handle was slowly twisting, distorted from the pressure from Charlotte's knight's hand. If he were to pull his hand back, the handle would most likely tear off directly from the door, allowing them entry.
"Stop!" The leading knight wanted to refuse on the grounds of the princess's safety, but her knight's strength was well-known even to the strongest of the Yursinean Army. The prisoner had already been locked and tied to the wall. There was no way the elf would be stupid enough to harm the princess, after all.
Basch glanced at the guard, who's expression darkened, his hand on the key to the prison door.
"I will unlock it, so please stop." The guard said, beads of sweat wetting his forehead as he grabbed the key from his waistband, "Though if the princess is harmed, it will be you who will be punished."
Basch nodded firmly, unfazed by the guard's cross words. Charlotte's knight slowly released the warped handle, large dents the size of his fingers rippling the sturdy handle, and stepped aside.
The guard looked at the door in disgust, whispering harsh words under his breath as he forced the key into the door handle, unlocking it with a firm twist. He stepped back, holding the door open as he did.
"Please be careful. That thing is like a wild animal. When cornered, they are unpredictable." The guard heatedly warned, his wary eyes looking over at the shadows holding the chained prisoner.
Charlotte's knight glanced back at her once, taking in her determined expression, before he cautiously entered, his hand wrapped around a small dagger at his waist. Once he checked that it was safe, he allowed Charlotte to enter in behind him with a wave of his hand, leaving the leading knight to stand to the side, afraid of the consequences to come.
Charlotte nodded her head and wordlessly stepped into the room, unprepared by the heavy stench of blood and iron. She covered her mouth with her handkerchief, her face twisted in disgust as the door heavily closed behind her figure. Her knight stood to the side, staring at the shadows at a long pair of legs rested outwards, the prisoner's upper body covered by a large shadow, hidden from the dim light of the microscopic prison window.
It's been so long since I've seen an elf so close. Charlotte thought as she narrowed her eyes, anticipating an evil, disfigured creature in some way as she opened her mouth, still covered by the handkerchief in her hand and asked aloud. "Who are you?" When she was greeted with silence, she sighed in disgust, "Do you creatures even have names?"
The figure, sprawled out uncomfortably on the wall, sighed aloud. They slowly opened their mouth, as if sucking in a breath and said something almost inaudible.
In the quiet dungeon, it was enough for Charlotte to hear. Her eyes widened as she stared at the prisoner, unable to speak.
…
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An 11 paged big boy. Woo :D I wanted to post this a little earlier, but I had to stand and present something for work, and then I had to do a short tour and talk to people about my department and such. I dragged myself back to my building and took a nap after, now here I am! Dying D:
Clarence and Malcolm and both making big steps towards the throne, in their own ways I guess you could say >y< What do you think Malcolm will try to do? And how do you think Clare will react to Charlotte meeting with Silas? Ah, this part had me giggling (evil giggles, thinking of the next chapter). Very excited for our next arc, whenever that begins!
Also, Hunny and I will be going to a con soon and we may be hosting a panel on taboo topics in Japanese literature (my area of study ♥). Can't wait for it, but we're going to dive into some heavy topics, and I've already been chewing through my bookcase to get ready. I finally finished No Longer Human by Dazai in 2 days (cried my first read through ;; ), highly recommend it though! Also Akutagawa is a gem (I like The Nose and In a Grove. Both are great, heavy short reads). Hopefully our con-goers will enjoy our panel if it's accepted!
Happy reading, and see you all next week ♥