Chapter 124:
The War Room
Silas and Jasmine returned to the war room with heavy footsteps. Silas hurried down the hall, Jasmine dragging him by the arm as they hurried through the halls and to the sitting room they had previously met in with Camille before. As Jasmine knocked, the door was slowly opened from the inside, and soon a variety of familiar faces filled their view.
"We're back!" Jasmine announced with a smile, leading Silas in as she released her heavy grip on his forearm. Once the pair stepped inside, the door was closed by Devon, who stood by the door with a relieved expression. "Kivah will be monitoring the guests while we're in the meeting."
"Do I even want to know what happened?" Camille asked dryly, her back straight as a rod as she scowled.
Jasmine shook her head, "Kivah is handling it for now." She walked into the room and returned to her position next to Camille, leaving Angeline at her other side, sitting straight with a pensive expression as Silas walked into the room, the door closed by Vaan behind him as he stood next to Maeir, his gaze falling on Adora with a smile.
"Took you long enough." She whispered, smiling towards Silas as Camille spoke. They exchanged quick nods before Camille spoke again.
"Then I will speak to him later. Shall we begin again?" Camille asked, scanning over the silent crowd, an undercurrent of frustration and anxiety buzzing in the room. Camille took the silence as a yes.
With a nod of Eva's head, Neema rolled out a prepared map with a series of drawn figures, miniature wood statues, and a fountain pen. The items were carefully laid out, notes written in a font too small for Silas to see well where he sat. Maeir carefully glanced over the map, her eyes tracing every mark and detail written in the delicate cursive print.
In the middle of the map there was a circle, surrounded by a group of smaller circles and arrows moving towards a small wooden castle, right in the middle of the map.
"With Duke Godfreed's attempt to take over the Yursinean throne, we have been presented an opportunity to overtake the kingdom." Eva began, her hands resting in her lap as the group listened attentively, Neema taking notes to the side. "There is only a short period of time before the kingdom is stabilized again and he is crowned as king. That means we must act fast." She lifted her hand and tapped a small red circle in the Highland district, their current location. "Which is why I brought you all here today, to finalize our plans."
Adora looked up from the map, "Isn't it dangerous for such a large group of elves to be in the Yursear Kingdom like this?"
Hearing her question, Camille spoke first, turning to the short elven woman, "There is no time to act. Coming to the Highland district was our only option. Here, we can discuss the plans. Letters can be intercepted, and it would take far too long for them to be delivered at this rate." She rubbed her brow, looking annoyed, "As we see with Holland and Meredith."
Maeir sat forward, her eyes gleaming at the thought of revenge against the evil royal family. "Then, what is the plan? The notes here indicate a moving operation from the outskirts of the kingdom. Are there allies providing support from outside the kingdom?"
"That's right." Eva nodded, her gaze falling towards Maeir, "Groups of rebel soldiers have been prepared here, here, here, and here." Eva's fingers gracefully flowed across the map, "All four groups will be moving in from their respective cities, and an additional two groups will be launching attacks outside of the capital to draw away the palace guards." Eva's gloved fingers traced over the page.
"What is our time frame, Lady Eva?" Jasmine asked, her eyes moving over the map pensively, her thoughts closely hidden. "The supplies we need have almost been gathered here, haven't they? But what about the soldiers?"
Neema answered first, her right hand still writing notes on a piece of parchment. "The attack will most likely take three months from now. There has been a discussion of a coronation ceremony taking place, crowning him as heir over Prince Clarence in two months, but the time frame is too short for us, so we will have to strike while he's still weak."
"Then the sooner we act, the better." Maeir said with a nod, glancing momentarily at her son. He weakly smiled back as she said, "Though I doubt that the duke will have the Queen's support. She's still in the palace after all."
"Yes, three months is as quick as we can act, though we'd like to move much faster, this is the fastest we can respond. Thankfully, the discord within the palace has weakened the duke's foundation enough for us to successfully strike against him." Eva responded, her eyes falling on the red circles drawn on the map.
As the group was gathered, more details were discussed, including possible mishaps, training of the rebel soldiers, and the transport of the gunpowder to the respective locations. Having planned for nearly ten years, Eva had made various plans in case any part of their attack went wrong, including various retreat routes and places to hide from soldiers during their journey. The only concern was a direct attack on the palace, and how they would draw Malcolm out.
"The only ones that know the palace from the inside are you two. Can you replicate the interior of the palace?" Eva turned to Silas and Maeir, her eyes dark with concern. "We can't trust the prince not to lie to us, so we can only compile the interior based on our previous visits to the palace. Saoirse, please grab the map."
"Yes." Saoirse responded promptly, laying a piece of paper on the desk with two pens.
"I remember most of the first floor and dungeon, but there were some points we had initially used to infiltrate the palace walls." Silas said as Maeir sat forward, taking the pen Saoirse had prepared as she used a spare piece of paper to draw the detailed layout of the dungeon in near perfect detail as Silas added his notes to the interior halls of the palace, having been days since he last walked them with Clarence as they escaped.
The sky had already begun to darken, and the lights in the room were bright, bringing an orange hue to the dim room. Camille sighed as she stared at the various tired faces around her, realizing it was time to rest, "It's getting late. For now, you all should return to your rooms, and my servants will bring your meals to you directly. We'll meet tomorrow morning to discuss more details. In the meantime, think of your role and how you can contribute." Camille stood up, adjusting the front of her coat as she stared at the guests surrounding the table. "Jasmine, please lead them to their rooms."
"Of course." Jasmine stood up, patting her thighs as she stared towards Lady Eva and her group with sparkling eyes. "It's been so long since we've last spoken. I want to hear all about your journey."
Led by Jasmine, Eva's group walked ahead, their faces full of fatigue as the excited Jasmine chattered with them, her expression bright. A few steps behind, Maeir, Silas, and Adora walked back together, speaking in quiet tones as they caught up on the basics of their journeys, discussing the past going-ons in the Faelfier Kingdom.
As they approached Adora's room, shared with Neema and Saoirse, Adora stood outside and faced Silas with a smile. "If you have some time, let's talk tomorrow, Silas." Adora's face was full of exhaustion, and Silas could only guess how far she had traveled with Eva to make the journey in time. While they both wanted to catch up, it could only be put off until tomorrow.
Silas nodded, "Of course. Thank you for coming, Adora. Have a good rest." He raised his arms up and took Adora in for a hug, sending her off with a smile as Maeir stepped forward for hers.
"Have a good rest, Silas." Maeir brought in Silas for a hug. "We'll talk more in the morning. If he gives you a hard time, I'll take care of it." Staring at the door, Maeir could only hope that human would step out of line. She would gladly straighten him around, but Silas only shook his head.
"If he does anything, I'll take care of it. Thanks, mom." He understood her concern, but the more he was around the prince, the more he felt he was sharing a room with a puppy. Though the puppy was still young, it had the potential to learn.
And that potential could save their entire operation.
Sending away his mom, Silas opened the heavy wood door to the room he shared with Clarence, stepping inside with his eyes closed as the sound of the wood door rang out in the room, his figure disappearing from view.
On the other side of the countess's estate, the group members left one by one, each bidding their goodbyes for the night as they prepared for a hectic morning, Camille stood by the closed door, a short figure approaching her as her hips were wrapped in their arms. "How are you feeling, Angeline?" Her expression, though hidden, was full of a warm, gentle affectionate gaze.
Angeline, standing with her face in Camille's back, nuzzled her cheek against her fiancée, her expression content. "I have high expectations for this group. I don't think we'll be disappointed, Mille."
"I trust your judgment, Ange." Camille sighed, gently turning around as she held Angeline in her embrace, stroking the top of the woman's head with a pat of her hand. "How is your project? Are you almost finished?"
"Three months should be enough time. It will be close, but it should be ready in time." Angeline leaned against Camille, a faint smile on her face. "Hopefully our other guests will not disappoint us."
…
Days had passed in silence at the palace, but they were not without meaning. After her discussion with Philomena, Charlotte began to keep a closer eye of Marquis Cyneric's movements in the palace, using her maids as tools to see where she could not within the palace. The marquis made his trips to the palace as infrequent and far-between as possible, and with trying to rule an empire while squelching any murmuring voices of rebellion, Malcolm was too busy to rein Alywin in to his liking.
Soon enough though, Malcolm would have a hold of the entire empire, and Alywin's antics would end. He was just waiting for the queen to relinquish her and her children's rights to the throne to make his position permanent.
For now, the queen was holding her position strongly. She would not relinquish the throne. No matter how much Malcolm threatened her and her children, she refused to budge. Malcolm, in frustration, threw her in the prison. If she did not give up soon, her children, who were so far treated very well, would be the next victims of her selfishness.
While Malcolm had noticed Charlotte's interest in Alywin, he was not terribly concerned for either of the two, knowing that they were both held under his thumb like ants. Even if they were to try to escape, they had no power to do so.
Even in the turbulent atmosphere of the palace, Philomena maintained a close position beside Charlotte, acting as her main lady in waiting. Malcolm watched her closely as she interacted with the Bethellian princess, monitoring her movements nearly as much as he had Alywin. He did not trust the young lady in waiting, but the more he monitored her, he found her to be startlingly foolish for her age, feeling as though the threat she presented was minimal. Lambros Country was such a small country, it could easily be squashed by him once he became official ruler of the Yursear Kingdom.
As days had passed, and Clarence was yet to be found, Malcolm continued to integrate himself into the new ruling role, including taking Clarence's wife. Inside Charlotte's tea room, Malcolm met with her once a week, to maintain the necessary appearances within the palace as the true ruler. The pair would drink tea and chat, much as she and Clarence had done during their engagement period.
However, drinking tea with Malcolm was difficult, as the man would only speak of meaningless topics, his lips tightly closed for information. So much so, Charlotte began to grow irritated with the man, and her anger seeped out during her recent conversation with the noble, her anger undisguised. Charlotte was not short with her words, and instead fought to reestablish her role as queen in the palace time and time again. Though, she was still referred to as Princess Charlotte by Malcolm. He forcefully, vocally put her down time and time again. She could no longer restrain herself.
"If I am to act as a Yursinean royal, I should be treated like one." Charlotte said with some spite, her attitude neither warm nor cold towards the man that had considered himself her husband. Even if Clarence had no desire towards her, she would much rather stand at his side than the side of a manipulative, evil royal such as Malcolm.
Philomena's eyes widened as she sat beside Charlotte, her expression barely hidden by the cup resting at her lips. If the servants had not been sent away already, they would have heard every word. Malcolm, a man of privacy, would not tolerate such a discretion towards himself, and both women knew it.
The man appeared gentle, but he was a beast far more frightening than Clarence.
With a gentle clatter, the tea cup in Malcolm's hand was placed down, and the young man laughed, his face tinted red from laughing so hard. He was so unrestrained, Charlotte could not help but respond angrily, "Please, share what you find so amusing."
Malcolm coughed, restraining the last of his laugh as he smiled, his golden eyes like flecks of gold, his gaze falling on Charlotte with some veiled contempt. "You have no other choice but to stay in this kingdom, so why don't you try to enjoy it? That cousin of mine could never have loved you anyway. He had no interest in women." While Malcolm did respect Charlotte to a certain degree, it did not stop him from putting her in her place, making sure she knew her role within the newly-changing palace. "I'm sure marrying a young man like me is a much more desirable option, isn't it, Princess Charlotte? Or would you rather return home and marry another man? I'm sure they would treat you like they treat their granddaughters." He sneered, his lips tilted as his white teeth were exposed.
"How dare you-" Charlotte's teeth ground together, her face red as she held back her words. He ground her healing wounds with the heel of his words, threatening her before she could finish establishing her foundation in the palace. She had to play along for now, regardless of how low the man sank, she could only hold on for now, hold on until she could exit the circus ring of the Yursear Kingdom or dethrone Malcolm from under his feet. "You expect me to carry feelings of goodwill towards you after dethroning my husband, Duke Godfreed? I am astounded." She gripped her fan, resting tightly at her side, using it to restrain herself from throwing her teacup at the man.
"There is no such thing as love in our world, Princess Charlotte." Suddenly speaking, Malcolm's words fell cold, lulling the princess quiet as she stared at Malcolm, whose gaze carried a strange meaning she had yet to decipher. "There's only the strong, and those who the strong feed off of. Which will you be, Charlotte?" He smiled, his white teeth glistening menacingly as Malcolm placed down his teacup.
"Which is Marquis Cyernic?" Charlotte asked coldly, knowing she was taking a huge risk with prodding Malcolm this way.
Malcolm's face fell flat, unamused by her question.
"Just because I extend my good graces to you, Princess Charlotte, does not mean you are immune from harm. You serve a purpose now. It's in your best interest to remain that way."
As the conversation fell, Charlotte's knight stood by the door, his eyes staring towards Malcolm with a chilly aura. Knowing their position in the palace, he was unable to act, but he wanted to do nothing more than murder the man that had mocked his lady. Charlotte needed him, and if he were to be executed, he could no longer protect the princess.
Seeing as his tea had grown cold, Malcolm abruptly stood from the sofa, his gaze returning to his usual light and mocking hue, like a trickster. "Ah, look at the time. I have an important meeting to attend." He smiled at Charlotte, "I will be looking forward to our next meeting Princess Charlotte, Princess Philomena."
Being addressed so directly, Philomena nearly jumped out of her skin. She nodded her head politely as Malcolm walked towards the door. Her gaze fell on the tall man's back, feeling the oppression from his figure. As he stepped out of the room, there was the sound of the gentle close of the door behind him. Then, Charlotte abruptly stood from the sofa, nearly throwing the fan out of her hand in rage as she stomped her foot once, releasing some of her anger.
"I won't let him get away with this. I just won't." Charlotte began pacing back and forth like a prowling lioness, her mind cold and calculating as she thought of the plans that she and Philomena had previously discussed before. She would make that vindictive duke regret ever crossing her. "Philomena, how far along is our plan so far?"
Philomena, still sitting on the chair with her fingers knotted in her lap, looked up anxiously, "I haven't been able to meet with Marquis Cyneric yet, but I was successfully able to pass him notes through a maid this morning. We should be receiving a response soon."
Though her love was not reciprocated, Philomena still found herself fighting to save the young man that had captured her eyes many months ago.
"I will not allow such a snake to look down on us, but for now, it's best we keep making him think we're no threat to him." Charlotte held her fan, her hands clenched at her sides, "He thinks we're weak and have no standing in the palace. He only plans to use me to be a pawn for the Bethellian-Yursear relations. But I won't let him. I'll leave before that ever happens, mark my words."
"My lady," Charlotte's knight stepped forward, "It would be unwise to leave the palace at this time."
Hearing her knight speak, Charlotte's gaze slowly turned cold, "Knight Basche, stay out of this." She hissed, her anger nearly boiling over. "I will not have that traitor deciding my fate."
Before Charlotte could finish speaking, there was a knock at the door, and the voice of a familiar maid called out, "My lady, your snacks have arrived."
Charlotte paused, the red flush retreating from her face as she pondered, But the tea snacks were already delivered before Duke Godfreed arrived. Her gaze then fell on Philomena, who had called for the maid to enter. Once the doors had opened, an older maid entered, her hair tied back in the simple white bonnet on her head neatly applied, her expression still as she placed the tray gently on the table, bowing her head wordlessly as she stepped back, leaving the room before the tray could be moved.
…
Minutes ago, Vaan had dragged a kicking, screaming Cordelia to a small room away from the main hallway. He opened the door to the small room with one hand, throwing the stringy, howling young woman in with his other. Cordelia spent no time on the floor, quickly jumping to her feet as she tried to slip past the involuntary door guard. Vaan easily swatted her away, his face only mildly annoyed by her slippery attempts.
The arrival of Kivah had stopped Cordelia, who, to Kivah's sadness, looked like a madwoman, with hair hanging in her face, her spindly limbs red from exhaustion, and her clothes frumpled and disordered, hanging on her much-too-thin figure.
Kivah stood to the side, a hand grasped over his mouth, as if trying to stop him from saying whatever was on his mind. Cordelia began approaching Kivah, but Vaan stopped her with a flick of his arm, separating the two like an imposing gate.
"It's alright." Kivah said to Vaan, lifting his hand reassuringly. Vaan let his displeasure show on his face, but reluctantly dropped his arm, allowing Kivah through.
"Why don't you sit down, Duchess?" Kivah said, stepping toward Cordelia while still keeping a noticeable distance between them. Cordelia's face dropped by Kivah's distance, but did as Kivah asked, sitting on the bed in the corner of the room. It creaked as she sat down.
"I can keep an eye on her. Could you please go check on… our other guest please?" Kivah was very careful with his words, cautious not to trigger Cordelia again, as he turned to Vaan. Vaan did not seem to like the idea, but nodded anyway, leaving the room and shutting the door behind him.
"Don't trust him, Kivah." Cordelia said, her hands trembling as she sat on the bed, reaching out to Kivah as she held back tears, "It's his fault… he's the reason why I'm here."
Kivah made no attempt to close the distance between them.
"Please say something, Kivah." Cordelia said, getting to her feet and going to his side. She raised up a hand to place on his arm, but he brushed her away. Cordelia's eyes welled at this, "Why are you angry at me? Why don't you understand? Do you know what he did to me?!" Her voice began to rise, the frustration and anger inside her building with her voice, "He killed my friends, my maid, he locked me away! He almost killed me! And I can't even reach out to my family! Imagine what they would think?! I'm a wanted criminal! They'd never take me back!"
"So, what? You kill him?" Kivah snapped back, annoyed and frustrated himself, "Then what? The countess would behead you for such an act! And I'd be left to pick up the pieces!"
"I'm sorry, Kivah." Tears dripped down Cordelia's face as she stared towards Kivah, the regret evident on her face. "I-I just wanted to make him feel what I felt. He needs to understand how much he hurt me. He needs to regret it. He needs to apologize."
Sighing, Kivah responded dryly, "Don't you get it? There is a revolution going on right in front of us! Duchess, this is something that is so much bigger than either of us. There is no place right now for emotions or revenge." His hands rested across his chest, his eyes narrowed in a somber fashion, "If you ever appreciated all the sacrifices I and everyone else has made for you, you'll throw away these thoughts of revenge for now." He wanted to speak harshly to the woman, but he found his anger faded the more he stared at Cordelia's shrunken figure, looking as if she had lost any and all footing to stand on, "One day, maybe you'll get him to pay, but today is not the day. Please don't do anything else to put my group in jeopardy, or I will have no choice but to stop you."
"You're a heartless bastard. You saw what he did to me, but you don't care." Cordelia whispered, retreating as she composed herself, "I thought you were different. But you're no different than the rest of them." Cordelia wiped her eyes, her hands furiously swiping at her face."But if I have to wait, I'll wait." Cordelia glared at Kivah, her warm eyes turning cold, as she pushed down all the emotions rising in her, "And when I can, I will get revenge. And even you won't be able to stop me."
"If that's what you choose, I won't stop you." Kivah said, curious to how their once awkwardly amicable relationship had reverted to how it was when they first met. It's a shame. Kivah thought to himself, But I have to do what's best for everyone.
…
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Merry Christmas, all! Here we are with a Christmas update ahaha :D I hope you all stay safe, happy and warm this holiday season!
And, I am looking for feedback on my latest project Misted Winds over on Scribblehub. Feel free to read it and let me know your thoughts. It will be a once a week update until I reach the end of my stockpile, then it will be sporadic until I finish YMtK. It's meant to be a brainless, dark project for now so go wild ;u; You can also see my latest translation on my Youtube. This is what happens when I get time off work ;;
Thank you for reading!! >y< I'm so excited for this final arch and the last wrap up of all these POVs. Writing them is driving me mad, but we'll come together soon C: Thank you for continuing to read and support us!! (/^-^(^ ^*)/ ♡