Chapter Six: Moonlit Chess.
1255 Words
“She did what?” Marquis Grerret asked again, frowning at the news he had just received from Kassim Theodore, the heir to the Sorbet Dukedom in Mayflower.
“My lovely cousin summoned father; rather, she summoned all the ducal houses in the empire for a council meeting fourteen days from today.”
“How can this be…” the Marquis frowned, “Is this a bluff, a move by the allied houses?”
“That is a strong possibility,” Kassim responded, then swirled the deep red liquid in his wine glass.
The Marquis’s office was dark, perhaps due to the dull light-absorbing furnishings of either black, brown or the deep green of the carpeting; even the light coming from the fireplace he stood next to seemed to be absorbed by the room.
Kassim raked his peach blonde hair, then walked to the curtain and pulled them open, giving the full moon a chance to penetrate the office, as though he hoped that it would reveal some of the secrets that the night held.
“The poison has no known antidote, and as you can see, it is a full moon tonight, the last of the month,” he said, then sipped the deep sweet liquid. “I doubt the Empress is alive.”
“This could be a ploy to prolong the inevitable throne war.” He finished, then stretched his hand to the moon that seemed out of reach behind the decorative glass window.
“Why do you say that?” the Marquis asked, leaning closer to the peach haired and green-eyed beauty dressed in pitch black.
“Just a hunch.” He smiled, then pulled his hand back and instead rested his head on the window.
But it wasn’t a hunch. Kassim had strong reason to believe that his cousin, Azalea, was dead; why?
Because all the ‘Oleander-Cursix’ that inherited the throne carried a strong curse that stemmed from the first emperor’s casual mistreatment of the Saintess. The curse causes them, once a month, during the full moon, to feel unbearable loneliness and bloodlust. So even though they craved company, it would often result in the company’s death.
Without fail, Empress Azalea plays the violin during those days, and anyone who heard its bitter tone died. Today is the last day of the full moon, and none of the spies he had planted sent word about bodies being discarded or the scent of blood the day after, as was so often during the days that the moon showed its fullness.
And as though that was not reason enough, almost all noble staff have been removed from her service, which included nearly three-quarters of his spies, but still, it was a clear indication of her falling.
-Ah…dear cousin…-
“So? So what do we do?” The Marquis asked Kassim, who was disgusted by the fact that an old man like him would have the courage to rely on him, a child in his mid-twenties. Still, power had a way of bending expected standards, and such is the fate of pawns.
“We call their bluff. I, for one, would like to see what excuse the allied houses will use for the Empress who summoned the council not to show up.” He offered, “And in the meantime, just to be certain, I have ordered a fresh batch of ‘Weeping Moonlight’. I doubt that she is alive or able to eat in her state, so aim for water, wine, anything liquid that she cannot do without.”
“It is nonsensical that I am wasting millions of Keris on the dead.” He finished.
Of course, all of the assumptions the heir, Kassim, had made were correct. The allied houses were capable of using such tactics to control the throne war. However, the thing about being correct is that there is never a black and white to it. It is never all or nothing as we are often taught in school; it, in fact, unfortunately, came in uncalculable degrees.
So though he was correct, he was not correct enough.
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Azalea Oleander Cursix
The white pawn on the chessboard was on e4, so I moved my black pawn to e5.
The two guards outside my door were Luke Ornix, the vice-captain, and Cyril Cones, a knight gifted to Azalea by Marquis Gerret.
One of them was a spy, of that I was certain, but I was not sure who.
I would, of course, know by whoever opens the door to confirm my state, but they were mostly out there to ascertain that I was not a double. They would be my proof.
With the news of the meeting and the removal of most noble staff from the palace, I was practically sending mixed signals left, right and centre, but my main point was to draw attention from everyone. That way, those working together could grow more aggressive. All I needed to do was gaud the attackers to a defensive place where they would be forced to shield their leader. That should be enough to settle the whispers down, well, at least until Aleu gets here.
The nature of weeping moonlight is that it kills slowly by inhibiting the thermal sensors in the body, rather, by deceiving the sensors.
It was hard to detect, had no taste nor scent, and it worked long term. It did not even have a test, meaning that neither physicians nor magicians could tell that you had been poisoned. That was why it was preferred.
I am honoured that someone was willing to spend millions of Keris for my death rather than stab me and leave me in the gutter as was often the case in my past lives, but seriously, I am sick of inhabiting poisoned bodies.
It’s a pain in the ass to heal!
-System, how many hours left till full recovery?-
{8 hours 3 minutes and 8, 7, 6,…}
-I GET IT! I GET IT-
-What about synchronisation, without the seconds, please-
{6 hours 47 minutes}
-By any chance, is there a possibility of you teleporting me to the temple?-
{Teleportation is a blessing that the host did not request}
-I mean as a favour…-
{The System has detected the word ‘favour’}
{The System has never asked the host for a favour}
-Okay then,- I sighed -what would you like as a favour for my favour?-
{The System asks that the host not ask ‘The System’ for favours as a favour}
“tch… pain in the ass system.”
{System detected the use of profanity}
{Use of ‘silent treatment’ has been initiated.}
“Oh come…shit.” I sighed, “I am sorry.”
{…}
“s**t, I guess I have to go to the magic tower to request scrolls.”
-I can’t leave this room at night, and now, not during the day either.-
I could send Hilda, but chances are she is about to get really busy…
So my only hope is Inger, reaching Henderson and then him sending his ninjas to me.
….this is why I hate noble roles. You need dedication, and f**k; the System is going offline in less than thirty hours, so my edge may be nullified.
-Why couldn’t I just be a strawberry?-
- Writer
