"You were right, Neera, it was as you said, Lady Marianne received a small package this morning from the Viscountess' handmaid."
"So, they have begun to move already. It hasn't been that long since the Duke left."
"Well, Lady Marianne has always been quick to take action, and apparently the Viscountess is also taking this opportunity to exercise her power in order to remind the court of her influence in the castle."
The Viscountess was a widowed woman, who was rumored to have never smiled after her husband's death. She was the Duchess' lady-in-waiting, creating a nexus between the dukedom's matriarch and the harem. She was in charge of welcoming every new addition to the harem's ranks, oppressing the women with harsh punishments according to her master's will, while hiding their true origin by arguing she was correcting their etiquette.
Contrary to popular belief, the Duchess and Lady Marianne had an amicable alliance, through which both maintained the status-quo and prevented one side from overpowering the other. The duchess had political strength with which she protected a select group of women under Marianne, while they themselves, being relatives to relevant noblemen in the duchy, influenced their houses in the Duchess' favor. Being the two women closest to the Duke, the power they held was considerable, to the point where most of the court paid them tribute, and they didn't take kindly to anyone who snatched the lord's attention for too long.
Alea was nervous for a minute while she watched Neera's pensive face.
"Neera... I've been thinking about what you told me before, and I truly believe putting ourselves in danger for this woman is not worth it. We still have a long way to go inside this castle, and alerting Lady Marianne and the Duchess of our presence is not wise."
"Alea-"
"No, Neera, please listen to me this time. After the Lord left and the young Lord began exercising his power, the tension in the court has sharply increased. The amount of plots to kidnap and assassinate the young Lord rise by the day, so the Duchess is pulling all her strings to protect him. I initially believed that Lady Marianne intended to attack the Ronna woman because the Lord paid her too many visits, but now I think she is attacking under the Duchess' orders."
The young lady paced back and forth, biting her thumb as she desperately tried to make her point clear.
"Some people in the court are thinking of using her as a weapon in exchange for her freedom. This is not about helping a battered woman anymore, Neera. If we meddle in this matter we will be stepping into the dukedom's political battlefield and the scheme of the assassination of its heir. After all this effort to stay hidden, do you really believe it is worth it?"
Neera was staring at the floor with no expression on her face. In her eyes, the sight of Alea's shiny shoes trudging over the dirty floor appeared and disappeared as she marched out of the range of her gaze and afterwards walked back into it. She took a deep breath, thinking of the words she would say.
"I have also been thinking about this, and I have come to the conclusion that... You are right. We shouldn't get tangled into the fief's power struggle, otherwise we will never get out of here."
Alea let out a sigh of relief. With a happy smile on her face, she jumped towards her friend and hugged her.
"Thank god you have come to reason. I know you really wanted to help her, but there is truly no way, not without putting our necks out there. I'm really sorry."
"It's alright. It was nothing but a foolish plan anyway."
----
Ron was extremely nervous. His master had called for him at the crack of dawn, hauled him onto a carriage and forced him on a ride to the capital of the dukedom without any explanation whatsoever.
He sat on the box next to the driver, pulling his flimsy coat tighter around his chest. If he had known he would travel so far he would have put on his gloves and the muffler his wife had knitted for him. He had been nothing but a merchant before his master picked him up from his modest shop, announcing that from then on he would be at his service.
The pay was good, but the work was hard. Still, he didn't dare complain, after all, the rest of the men his age were dying by the dozen in the battlefield. He could only thank the cart driver that had run over him when he was younger. If it wasn't for his stump of a leg, there would have been no chance for him to stay at home.
Exposed to the cold air for hours now, the scar felt tender, and the pain stretched further than where the flesh truly reached, taunting him with the sensation of his lost foot. He grit his teeth but said nothing.
Passing through the stinking streets of Singre, he noticed the tense atmosphere. The dukedom's knights patrolled through the streets, while the citizens took hurried steps to get out of their sight. In the dark alleyways between the buildings, small groups of people gathered, discussing a revolt in hushed voices.
Ron had heard of the uprising in the capital, but he had never thought it would be this bad.
'It is no surprise the Lord left. This place is one breath away from blowing up into a civil war.'
His nervousness increased.
'Why are we here?'
He couldn't guess what his master was thinking, so he decided to stop wondering, resigning his lungs to the city's stale air. They eventually stopped in a small street that tightly fit the carriage. The buildings were so close to one another across the dirt road that the afternoon light barely managed to touch it, and Ron could see some of the windows closing shut at their passing.
His master slightly opened the coach's door.
"Ron, come here."
"Yes."
Ron struggled to get off from the driver's seat, finally placing his faux wooden foot on the ground. Stepping inside, he couldn't help but feel that this carriage was way below the level of luxury his master usually travelled in.
"Listen to me, Ron. The information I am about to tell you is extremely confidential. If you ever disclose it to anybody, death will be the lightest punishment. Do you understand?"
"Yes, Master."
"Good. Do you remember the business proposal we drafted a month ago? The one I presented at the general assembly."
Ron nodded, he could certainly recall the crushing news of it being rejected by the Duke.
"Well, I have found an investor, but he is an extremely private person, and he acts through a proxy whom you'll meet someday. We have come to see if he has actually held up his part of the contract."
"Here? In this place?"
Ron looked out of the small window towards the dark street.
"No, Ron. In the Duke's castle."
----
"State your name and reason of entry!"
"U-um my name is George from the Evernon County. I have been sent to retrieve a wine order?"
Ron struggled to maintain a neutral expression, but he couldn't help his voice from lifting at the end of the sentence. To his surprise, the gates to the castle opened anyway, letting the carriage he now sat in through. His master had been right, his visit was expected.
After the Duke left the capital, a strict control was being enforced by the administration led by the dukedom's young lord, making Ron reluctant to complete the task his master had given him. Count Evernon told him not to worry.
"My partner assured me all the registers would be altered, and the fake transaction has already been added to the ledgers, all you need to do is retrieve the package," he had said.
After the coach had stopped in front of the castle's storage area, four servants carried two heavy crates from the cellar and loaded them onto the carriage. Ron nervously kneaded his fingers when a stable boy lightly tapped on the glass window. His grey eyes were dull, but his back was straight.
After the door was opened, he asked:
"Are you Mr. George?"
"Uh, yes."
"This is for you."
A thick letter was deposited in his hands. The wax seal had been stamped over a laurel leaf.
"I have been told that you should read and dispose of it in private."
Without another word the stable boy turned around, leaving the dumbfounded Ron staring at his back.
He opened the envelope, and peeked at the first sentences in the paper, breaking into a cold sweat as his eyes swept over the ink.
'Dear Mr. Ron,
I am Count Evernon's investment partner, and I shamelessly write this letter to bring you over to my side. This might seem a controversial proposal, but I assure you it is in your best interest. After all, your master will be assassinated before the end of next year.'
Ron looked back outside with wide eyes, but the stable boy was gone.
"We have finished loading everything, sir... Um... Sir?"
"Ye-yes! Thank you!"
He hurriedly shoved the letter into his pocket and dismissed the castle's servants. His hands shook while a million thoughts ran through his head. Whoever this partner was, they were an extremely cunning person, since no matter if Ron hurried and told his master about what had just happened, he would surely be charged with treason given the Count's distrustful nature. He would never believe Ron would stay by his side after being contacted by an outsider, specially now that the whole court had turned against the county and were looking for a way of bringing it down.
While Ron considered the odds of ending up on the guillotine, the coach had already made its way back into the dirty street where they had stopped before.
From one of the buildings' doors his master quickly walked out with a cloak covering his features.
"Did you get it?"
Startled, Ron answered with a nod.
"Open them."
The lid of the crates groaned as the nails were pulled until they finally fell, presenting to the eyes of the Count dozens and dozens of shiny golden ingots. A smile as bright as the treasure he now possessed stretched his thin lips.
"Ha ha ha! That investor might be crazy, but they sure do deliver. This will be more than enough to buy a whole navy!"
Ron was unable to share his master's happiness. To him, it seemed the envelope in his breast pocket weight down on his chest as if it were made out of stone.