Epilogue
Olav, the capital of the Rhoden Kingdom, was built in the middle of a vast, fertile plain to the north of the Calcut mountain range, and was bordered to the east by the massive Lydel River that flowed down from the Furyu mountain range.
The castle and town were surrounded by four walls, successively added with each growth spurt the town experienced. Olav currently boasted a population of over 50,000, making it more than three times larger than the transportation hub of Diento.
The capital city was surrounded by farmland, broken up only by massive roads stretching off in the four cardinal directions. Goods traveled into the city from all over the country.
Rhoden was the third-most powerful country on the northern continent, though it paled in comparison to the power of the Revlon Empire to the north. Rhoden was made up of several different land-owning nobles, the biggest being the royal family of Olav. This gave Olav the power to set the course for the kingdom’s policies, though it wasn’t strong enough to unilaterally dictate terms to the other nobles. Though the royal family certainly wielded enough power to control any individual noble, they would never stand a chance against all of them combined.
That said, Olav did have the ability to bring the nobles, and their military forces, together to combat any threat to the kingdom, whether it be an invasion, civil unrest, or any other situation the royal family deemed necessary.
Deep within the chambers of the Olav palace, a group of nobles had gathered to discuss the numerous theories and rumors surrounding the assassination of Marquis du Diento.
***
A figure sat at the head of a large, rectangular table in the middle of a beautifully decorated, narrow room deep within the royal palace. Along one side of the table sat three individuals, a seat left empty between each of them.
The man at the head of the table had deep wrinkles etched into his forehead, giving him a rather gaunt appearance. However, his blond hair—marked with the occasional streak of white—thick beard, and piercing blue eyes made apparent the strength still lurking within him. This ornately dressed man was Karlon Delfriet Rhoden Olav—the country’s ruler.
At fifty-five years old, he was already considered elderly in this world, where people rarely lived past the age of fifty. Being the ruler of a nation probably made him look even older than his true age.
Behind the king stood Duke Bionissa du Jackell, one of the seven dukes and the current in a long line of Jackells to serve as the country’s prime minister. Despite not owning any land of their own, the dukes of Rhoden were the most powerful supporters of the royal family and lived on stipends provided by the king from levies on the country’s citizens. They wielded great power over the kingdom.
Prime Minister Bionissa wore the relatively simple uniform of a court official, though his shaved head and intense, monocled gaze gave him the look of a bird of prey.
“What are we doing about the whole Marquis du Diento situation?” King Karlon spoke with a certain heaviness to his voice, looking straight ahead and turning only his eyes to address Prime Minister Bionissa.
The prime minister fidgeted with his monocle as he responded to the king’s inquiry in a bored, monotone voice.
“We’ve sent Orhevo, Marquis du Diento’s heir apparent, back to Diento from the Rhoden palace to see what he can learn. As for the culprit’s motives, some are saying it’s the work of freed slaves, given that multiple slave trading houses were attacked and the beastpeople are missing. However, we have yet to come up with any concrete proof.”
A cold voice spoke up the moment the prime minister finished. “I have been hearing rumors that this was the work of elves.”
Sekt Rondahl Karlon Rhoden Sahdiay—the first prince to the Rhoden Kingdom—was one of the three sitting at the table. He brushed his fingers through his light brown hair as he spoke in the practiced voice of one who had grown up among nobility, a smile gracing his handsome face. He exchanged glances with the young man sitting next to him, giving the man an odd smile.
The man on the receiving end of Sekt’s gaze had a small but muscular build and short, cropped hair. He wore a military uniform decorated with gold trim. His name was Dakares Ciciay Vetran—the second prince. In contrast with Sekt, he was a spirited military man through and through, and completely lacked the former’s royal grace.
King Karlon let out a heavy sigh, as if he were used to the hostile interactions between the first and second princes, before making an inquiry of his own. “Why would you give voice to such gossip, Sekt?”
Sekt’s smile grew wider as he turned to face the king.
“Well, actually, I’ve heard that Marquis du Diento was capturing elves and selling them off to the eastern empire.”
The tension in the room was palpable.
Dakares made no effort to conceal his contempt as he glared at Sekt. “That’s nothing but hearsay, no? Unless you have any proof, dear brother.”
Sekt responded with the same eerie grin. “And why are you so interested in standing up for the marquis, Dakares?”
“You’re spreading rumors about Rhoden’s nobility!”
The king cleared his throat, drawing attention back to himself and putting an end to the young men’s quarreling. The wrinkles in his forehead grew even deeper.
“That’s enough. It’s unbecoming to speak ill of the marquis without any proof. However, it is true that we cannot turn a blind eye to these rumors. We should dispatch a group to Diento immediately to perform a formal inquiry. Yuriarna, what do you think of this?”
The king turned his gaze to the only woman in the room. Though the dress she wore was rather reserved in its design, the fabric and needlework made it apparent what a true masterpiece it was. The woman fit to wear such a beautiful dress was Yuriarna Merol Melissa Rhoden Olav—the second princess of the kingdom.
Yuriarna, who had been sitting silently throughout the preceding arguments, ignored both the young men and turned her gaze to King Karlon. After a brief pause, she opened her mouth to speak.
“I, too, have heard rumors. If true, they would mean not only that the elven treaty the Frivtran family worked so hard on has been broken, but also that friction with the other countries could be imminent. We should get to the bottom of this situation at once and enter into discussions with the elves.”
Despite her youth, Yuriarna spoke calmly and steadily, without the slightest hesitation in the face of the king’s scrutiny.
Beside the king, Prime Minister Bionissa spoke up in approval. “It is as Miss Yuriarna says. If the elves were to restrict trade with Limbult as revenge for this act, we would be at the mercy of the other countries.”
The king turned to the prime minister, making no effort to hide his displeasure. “This is true. Magic tools would, of course, be an issue. Moreover, if they were to restrict our access to the crop fertility runestones, we could be looking at a food crisis, or even flat-out revolt from the other Rhoden nobility.”
“Understood, Your Highness. I will put together a formal group of inquisitors and make for Diento.”
The king nodded. “That is all for today then.”
The moment the king finished speaking, Bionissa clapped his hands. The servants waiting outside entered the room and lined up along the walls.
Sekt and Dakares didn’t even look at each other as they stood and quietly walked out. A moment later, Yuriarna slowly began standing. Karlon called out to her.
“Yuriarna.”
“Yes, Father?”
“I hope to open communications with the elves as soon as possible. I would like you to go to Limbult. Could you speak with Seriarna about this matter and ask her to make the arrangements?”
The king’s expression had completely changed. He no longer spoke as a monarch, but as a father asking a favor from his daughter.
Yuriarna smiled back at him.
“Of course, Father.”
***
Two men joined Dakares in his private chambers, one of whom sat on a leather sofa directly across from him. All the servants had been sent away, leaving the three men alone.
Dakares, who just moments ago had been bickering with the first prince Sekt, sat stiffly in his chair, his blue eyes burning with rage.
“Dammit! We’re right in the middle of concentrating our power and now we lose our biggest financial backer?!” The second prince’s well-chiseled face twisted in anger as he spat out the words.
The large man sitting on the sofa across from him nodded deeply. The man’s muscular physique gave the impression of youth, though his white-speckled, brown hair and impressive mustache betrayed his true age. His name was Duke Maldoira du Olsterio, and he was one of the seven dukes, serving as the general in command of the third royal army.
General Maldoira made a face as he discussed the situation.
“Yes, as a result of this incident, Marquis du Diento’s eldest son, Orhevo, has been sent back to his city. We should plan on him being absent from the capital for a while, until he’s able to take control of the situation.”
Dakares pounded his fist on his thigh. “We’ve got bigger problems! If that fool doesn’t conduct himself properly, the inquisitors will figure out everything that’s happened! We need to make sure he keeps his mouth shut, one way or another.”
“You don’t need to worry. I’ve dispatched several good men along the route to Diento. He will never make it home.”
“My, my! You truly are fast!” Dakares readjusted himself in his chair, looking more relaxed now.
The general smiled. “I will graciously accept your compliment.”
“The servants who saw the events unfold are saying it was the work of elves, but could that really be it?”
“It’s hard to tell. There are reports of people seeing elves around town, but we also know a band of liberators attacked three other slave trading houses on the same night, resulting in over forty-four of the beastmen escaping. Many say the assassination was also the work of these so-called liberators.”
“I don’t care if the beastmen were the ones to perform the assassination, but I can’t see any reason why they would risk killing the marquis if their goal was to save their enslaved brethren. Do you think they were working with the elves?”
“I cannot say. It’s possible they wanted it to look that way. Sekt could have done this intentionally to weaken Diento’s position by exposing their crimes. Meanwhile, Yuriarna is trying to reconcile with the elves. If she discovers what we we’re doing, she may reveal your violation of the king’s wishes, further restricting your power. I’ve ordered the servants to keep their mouths shuts about what they saw, but we’ve already lost track of one of them. It’s possible one of your siblings offered them asylum.”
“Isn’t that a problem? If the servant reveals what they knew, then…”
“It’s still the word of a single, insignificant servant. The real problem, however, is what became of the funds that Marquis du Diento was supposed to send. Elves generally aren’t interested in money, and, even if these ones were, the amount taken could have never been carried away by such a small number of them. This could be some sort of conspiracy to weaken our faction.”
Prince Dakares frowned. This situation went far beyond a simple loss of funds to support his bid for the throne. If it all went public, this would bolster Prince Sekt and Princess Yuriarna’s own bids to be named Karlon’s successor.
Sekt’s faction had already won the support of three of the seven dukes. Plus, he had the support of the Revlon Empire to the west. The deck was already heavily stacked in his favor.
Just as General Maldoira had said, the only possibility was that this was a plot to further impede Dakares’s ambitions. Yuriarna was straightforward and honest, and Dakares was convinced she’d never do something as dirty and underhanded as stealing Diento’s money while making it look like an elven raid. His half-brother Sekt, however, would readily commit such an atrocity, all the while maintaining a façade of innocence.
“We must act before Sekt has a chance to. Cetrion, it’s time for you and Houvan to begin your preparations.”
A man in his thirties, dressed in military attire, stepped out from behind General Maldoira and bowed deeply in response to Prince Dakares’s command.
“As you wish.”
The man’s name was Lieutenant General Cetrion du Olsterio, one of the three royal generals and heir to the Olsterio dukedom. He looked just like a younger version of his father, General Maldoira.
Prince Dakares smiled, imagining his sneering brother wreathed in flames.
***
At that very same moment, Sekt—the first prince to the Rhoden Kingdom—was also joined by two others in his private chambers.
The prince slumped back in his luxurious chair. It was made of amber-colored wood and covered with a cushion adorned with floral designs.
His blue eyes, set deep in his well-chiseled face, were inherited from the king, and he dressed in nothing but the most princely of clothes.
A beautiful, refined woman stood next to him, sipping daintily from a cup, her light brown hair neatly arranged. She shared facial features with Prince Sekt, though it was hard to identify them under her heavy makeup. She wore a gorgeous dress that blossomed out into a wide skirt.
The woman’s name was Lefitia Rhoden Sahdiay—the second-class queen and Sekt’s mother. She set her teacup down on the table as she spoke.
“Dakares’s camp is scheming as we speak. Are you just going to rest on your laurels, Rondahl?” As his mother, Lefitia still referred to Sekt by his given name.
Calling a member of the royal family by their given name was an honor reserved only for close family members and others with an intimate relationship. It would be considered nothing short of a grave insult coming from anyone else.
“Dakares and his gang are just trying to clean up after themselves, Mother. They did a respectable job concealing the truth, but it was painfully apparent where all the marquis’s money was going. I doubt we need to do anything, considering how much this whole debacle will set him back.”
The other man in the room nodded in agreement before speaking up. “In my humble opinion, Princess Yuriarna is the only one currently being proactive. If she uses this opportunity to take greater strides toward her own goals, it could very well endanger your bid for the throne.”
Despite this small-framed man’s polite smile and priestly attire, he had a rather vile air about him. He was a Hilk priest, named Boran, and he was only in the capital to proselytize and spread the Hilk faith.
“That’s true. She’s also popular among the subjects. If she uses this situation to gain the upper hand, those standing on the sidelines, and even the dukes who have aligned with us, may back her. We need to find out how the people are leaning and make our move. Boran, I assume you can call upon your magic-using followers, if necessary?”
The priest responded with fervor. “Why of course! We, and our Father up in heaven, will bring a thousand blessings upon you, Your Highness. My devout followers and I eagerly await the opportunity to be of service to you.”
Sekt struggled to maintain his composure in the face of Boran’s exaggerated proclamations. “Boran, we are equals, are we not? There is no need to speak so formally with me. And please, call me Rondahl.”
Boran looked perplexed for a moment before bowing low. “I am deeply touched by this great honor you have bestowed upon me, Master Rondahl. However, I’m afraid I must be going now, for there is much to do to ease Your Highness’s worries.”
The man was so excited he practically danced out of the room, though he still managed another polite bow before making his exit. Once he left, Lefitia let out a sigh.
“Did you really need to say that, Rondahl? Won’t this come back to bite you once Princess Yuriarna is disposed of?”
“Not in the least. Boran has been playing both sides for a while now, though his real goal is to get rid of Yuriarna. After all, she’s the one pushing Father to put a stop to Hilk proselytizing. Once I’ve used Boran to destroy Yuriarna, I’ll get rid of his private army. Religious inclinations are relatively weak here in Rhoden, so letting the Hilk infiltrate any further would only lead to more problems.”
Lefitia took a sip from her teacup. “I suppose so. On the other hand, it’s also worth considering the massive population increase an influx of Hilk followers and their temples would bring. Though, I’ve heard a rumor that the emperor of Revlon has turned away the Hilk’s high priest, so that may not be possible while the Revlon Empire supports you.”
“Right. It would be a pretty poor move to form an alliance with a rejected religion while we’re trying to stop their spread to the south, even if it would grant us access to the Holy Revlon Empire’s glacier-free port. First, I’ll have Boran figure out what Yuriarna is up to, then we’ll dispose of Dakares. After we reveal what really happened with the marquis, I’ll put an end to the Diento family and give the domain to the Hilk.”
Sekt let out a sinister laugh before picking his cup up from the table and downing the tepid tea in one gulp.
***
Elsewhere in the palace, while Sekt was busy plotting her downfall, Princess Yuriarna sat beside a window overlooking a beautiful garden.
The man across the table from her had long, wavy blond hair. His beautiful brown eyes seemed entirely unsuited for the angry look they held.
A chambermaid poured tea into their cups with a well-practiced hand before bowing lightly to the Princess and stepping back out of sight.
“Thank you, Ferna,” Yuriarna said. Ferna had been at her side ever since childhood.
After taking a sip of her tea, Yuriarna let out a deep breath and turned her attention to the man across from her.
“We almost had Dakares exactly where we wanted him. What are the odds that the ruler of Diento, where our spies were currently operating, would be killed? Do you think this was an attempt by Dakares to conceal the evidence of his treachery?”
The middle-aged man facing Yuriarna sat perfectly straight in his chair, wearing the crisp military uniform reserved for lieutenant generals.
Carlton du Frivtran—one of the kingdom’s three generals—paused for only a brief moment. “No, m’lady. The marquis was a major source of funding for Dakares’s camp, and a powerful supporter, so it’s hard to believe Dakares would kill him. As for the servants who provided statements about what they saw, we attempted to secure them as soon as possible, but we could only get our hands on one. I’ve already issued orders to hand the servant over to the Grand Duchy of Limbult.”
Yuriarna knitted her eyebrows and frowned. “According to the witnesses’ statements, the castle was attacked by elves. Was this just revenge for the marquis’s kidnappings? There are also reports that beastpeople were set free from various slave trading houses around town, so I wonder if they were working together. I’d heard that Diento is a rather sturdy fortress, so it’s hard to believe that elven soldiers could succeed in an attack all on their own.”
Yuriarna wasn’t looking for an answer exactly. Rather, she was letting her mind work through the problem. Her eyes narrowed as she stared into the steam rising from her cup.
Carlton wore a thoughtful expression. “The elves and beastpeople have relatively stable relations, so it’s entirely possible. However, without some sort of inside help, it would have been difficult to sneak in. The biggest mystery for me is how the beastmen were able to steal all that money and burn down half the castle’s main residence, all without any witnesses seeing anyone other than the elves. Perhaps it was one of Sekt’s people, trying to weaken Dakares’s position.”
“In any case, Rhoden citizens living near the elves must be trembling with fear. After all, even a massive fortress wasn’t enough to stop them from getting revenge. I fear our trade routes will become even more constrained. I can’t believe my idiot brother would do something so foolish! He’s trying to abandon a 400-year-old treaty!” Yuriarna let out a heavy sigh.
“However, this incident will greatly weaken the power of Dakares’s camp, sending even more nobles our way. Going forward, we’ll need to keep an eye on Sekt’s movements.”
“That’s true, I suppose. Sekt is also likely to use this situation to try and win over Dakares’s supporters. We should have proper talks with the elves to discuss the situation as well. Let’s start in the Grand Duchy of Limbult, since they’re the only ones who have any regular trade established with the elves.”
Yuriarna slumped her shoulders and picked up her cup, taking a sip of her herbal tea. The scent of it brought back good memories, putting a smile on her face.
“I wonder how Seriarna is doing…” Her older sister, Seriarna, had married into the Ticient family—the Grand Duchy of Limbult.
A sigh escaped Yuriarna’s lips as she turned to gaze out the window.
High above the castle, dark gray clouds had rolled in, blanketing the sky. The sound of heavy rainfall drew closer.
No Comments Yet
Post a new comment
Register or Login