Chapter Eighteen: Long May She Reign II
1705 Words
“He is among peers.” Duke Nissa began in a deep voice that commanded the room, “One feels more conscious among peers.”
“Hmm, I see.” I nodded slowly, then turned to Duke George, “Duke, you may take your seat.”
“Thank you, your majesty.” He said through gritted teeth.
“It is a blessing to have you recognise our standing so…intensely.” Duchess Innes responded.
“Of course, but more than me, you should thank the Duke of Nissa, a good man, isn’t he?” I smiled, and both dukes frowned.
“Yes, of course, he is.” Duke George said, “Shall we begin the meeting?”
“Right, we hadn't begun, had we?” I pursed my lips, “but before then, I think it is marvellous for you to have the potential to sympathise with the Duke of Sorbet. Everyone else here on the table simply went along with my whims.”
“I believe the Empress also stated clearly that a leader has no place kneeling before a commoner. I mean, what would the people of Sorbet think if this were to be reported, even as a rumour?”
“Hmm, you mean the people of Cursix? Are you by any chance trying to create a divide?”
“No, that is not my intention. I simply mean that-,”
“That the commoner I have now permitted to be here is your source of conflict?”
“I simply sympathised with him.” He said, realising that I would twist all his words, “I sympathise with all the people in this great nation.”
“What a good man you are.” I smiled then leaned back, “To think that you would sympathise with rapists, killers, robbers-,”
“I never claimed to-,”
“but aren’t they part of the general populous?”
“Of course, I sympathise with everyone, but I do sympathise with their victims more and thus, why we have knights stations!”
“Ah, I see. So in your eyes, Duke George is a victim to my childish whims, and you sympathise with him more?”
“I did not-,”
“You just did, or were you so drunk on the days’ festivities that you missed it?”
“N-no.” his voice shook, and the atmosphere in the room changed.
The Duke of Nissa was labelled as a man of stone. A man who never took days off, even to attend his wife’s funeral, a man who never laughed without purpose, and a man who never faltered.
The Duke had raised his children in a similarly cold manner. He never gave them time unless they had achieved a feat, and he had even less use for those termed as illegitimate, creating a haven of competitors rather than a family.
“You see, Duke, those who kept quiet trusted my decision to have him say a prayer on his knees, but you seem to look at him and only see a victim.”
The duke said nothing more, perhaps because he feared that I had more to say.
“But if you wish me to explain myself, I will,” I smiled, “I mean, I did say speak freely, so…none of this is punishable...”
*
*
*
Cleanna Alistan, Duchess of Fiosal.
It was the Empress’s kindness that was a trap.
She realised.
The room's flow had been that the older and more established people like Duke George and his wife, Duke Nissa and Duke Isaulot, commanded it, while those in their prime like she, Duke Nichols and to an extent the Empress, were the listeners.
Duchess Nancy was more of a tag-along. That woman was way too friendly to get political.
Of course, this ‘flow’ was unspoken. The Empress had inherited the throne at a young age thus had grown dependent on a second opinion from those older and…well, wiser. Technically, she did choose which idea to follow but never before had the Empress equalized the room in the manner she had today.
And this had impressed Cleanna greatly, to an amusing extent.
After her parent's death, both Cleanna and her sister had had to deal with the unfortunate leeches that came with inheriting power. As each dukedom had its own political system to maintain their different cultures, the assassination attempts from those families left behind had caused her to ‘grow up’ a little too fast if she wished for her and her sister’s survival.
And to Cleanna, that had meant, if you cannot beat the biggest and meanest looking kid, you become them.
And thus, her reaches stretched to the underworld, causing her to earn disfavour from most noble parties, especially in the big five duchies, which also meant disfavour from the empress. Still, now that she was equalizing things, perhaps this would provide a perfect platform for their growing friendship.
“We, your highness, do not need a reason.” Duchess Innes said, having already caught up with the tone, “We would gladly pray for the imperial family, even on our knees.”
“You would?” the Empress replied with a smile, “That is so..ah, what is the word that I am searching for, oh magnanimous. You, Duchess Innes, are a magnanimous being.”
-O oh-
“Of course.” Duchess Innes said, clearing her throat, obviously now doubting her course of action.
“Can I ask you a question, Duchess Innes, at least before we begin the meeting?” The Empress's voice, as before, was friendly and almost melodious.
“O-of course?”
“What is the punishment for high treason?”
“Uh, p-pardon.”
“What?” the Empress asked clearly and slowly; the playful smile that had danced on her lips earlier long gone, as though that, too, was a mirage, “is the punishment for high treason?”
The duchess was so shaken up by the question that her mouth remained open for the longest time.
“You do not know this?” the Empress asked, then turned her gaze to the Duke of Sorbet.
“Do you, Duke? Or did everyone in your household forget to revise their books?”
The room grew both colder and tenser as her imperial majesty lost her smile. It finally dawned on most of the members in the room that the Empress had not called a council meeting, but a court, in which she played the roles of judge, jury and executioner whilst, they, witnesses.
“I- we, we do know the punishment, your imperial majesty,” the duke replied, and Cleanna had never seen a smaller man in her life.
Not only had her illusion and respect for him vanished, but he also did seem to have physically shrunk in stature.
“Do you wish me to beg for your answer?” the Empress leaned forward in her chair threateningly, “Or cut both your tongues for your impertinence?”
“Death,” the duke answered, “The punishment is death.”
“Is there a reason that the answer seemed to slip your mind?”
“N-No none. We were, however, curious as to why you would ask that.”
“Oh, you do not know why?” she smiled.
-O oh-
“Isn't it obvious that it is because your son, Lord Kassim Theodore, poisoned me on your order?”
“WHAT?!” Innes yelled as she stood from her seat, and Cleanna could not tell if she was shocked at the news or shocked that her majesty had found out.
“K-Kassim would never do that!” she insisted, and the Empress’s hand flew to her mouth in mock shock.
“He wouldn’t?”
“Never,” Innes continued, “Kassim is a wonderful boy and the next heir of Sorbet. What use would he have in assassinating the one who will acknowledge his title?”
“Your majesty, what have we done to deserve your disfavour?” the duke asked pitifully. “Such things as treason need to be uttered with caution.”
“Oh good heavens,” the Empress sighed exaggeratedly into her hands, “I must look a jester to you?”
“Do I have on a funny hat? Is that what is wrong with my wardrobe?” she proceeded dramatically.
“N-no.” the Duchess spoke, the conversation having forced her to the defensive.
“Quiet.” The Empress said to both the Duke and Duchess of Sorbet, “I have already received my answer from the both of you.”
The Empress turned to the rest of the table to collect answers to her rhetorical question.
“Do I resemble a jester?” she pressed, “Duchess Alistan, do you find something off with my look for today?”
Cleanna's heart lept at the mention of her name and for a few seconds, she was actually surprised that the Empress knew it.
Logically, she understood that she did, but...
“No, your majesty, I do not.” she answered, surprised that she could answer fluidly.
“Duke Isaulot, do you?”
“No, your majesty.”
“Then I suppose I have no other choice but to-,” the Empress smiled then turned to the door, “ask an impartial party.”
“Mathews,” the Empress turned to the door then called for the imperial butler, “bring in Marquis Grerret.”
At this, the colour in both the duke and duchess of Sorbet’s face drained, and a pool of excitement bubbled from deep within Cleanna.
The double doors opened slowly, and a tense clueless man in his late forties dressed in the finest and neatest garments walked in.
Cleanna was unsure of the show she was watching, but whatever it was, it was a thousand times more entertaining than Aliviai’s latest thriller play.
{Name: Cleanna Fiosal Alistan}
{Title: Grand Duchess of Fiosal}
{State: Amused, Curious, Excited}
{Relationship: Single}
{Family in descending order: -None-}
- Writer
