PoV : Empress Elinor
Recap: Elinor lost her first spirit while witnessing another ripped apart, forced between two masters. She’s found out some interesting things about the spies sent to follow her—one happened to be a Nalvean boy with a small crush on his Stateswoman.
Oh, did I mention, one of the spies had a JadeFire suicide device surgically implanted in him that HAD to be from the Great Designer they’re going after to save Tal’tamine.
Now, our Empress heads to the eldest prince’s room to confront the Nalvean and hopefully discover some dirt against her true target … She will have her Seraph!
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Elinor walked back through the streets with Elquara meekly following; she would take the lead after they studied the area Kimlira’s spirit had been slain.
Klaus and Aluix traveled with them until reaching the palace, where they would return to the Stateswoman’s chambers to await her return from the Emperor’s meeting. The boy was silently observing them with waves of curiosity and respect.
Imiruba, the High Ruler’s confidant, was keeping a careful watch to chronicle their progress. The flaming butterflies were of great interest to him after the two Imperial Guards updated him on what they represented.
Edmon, Violet, and Castella were on sharp alert for danger, but the spies had retreated to report their findings.
The travel between the rural district to the palace was met with many interested looks, bows of respect, and Nalvean’s hurrying out of an area to not get involved, but her presence was felt within the city.
She didn’t particularly care about the attention; Violet and Edmon would be the ones focusing on that part of her movements and the path from the southside of Shi’Shuka to the palace gates went without incident. Although, they were momentarily stopped by a squad of City Guards that had run to investigate the spirit’s death scream.
Romimaca and Hikico’rova explained the situation with one of the guards that lingered with them to record the incident; they didn’t appear to have the authority to detain Elinor unless seeing her in the middle of an egregious act. Despite her being within the area, it didn’t grant them the right to stop her as a Ruler, and one was left tagging along to get the details. It would take a direct order from the High Ruler or the Head Imperial Captain to forcefully redirect her course.
Elinor rather enjoyed that aspect of the Nalvean Empire’s respect for the authority of other nations. If Klaus had been a suspect, then other City or Palace Officers could question him about it; although, the Nalvean Ambassador would be present to make sure no offense was triggered and proper decorum was given to his station.
While the others handled her defense and annoyances, Elinor’s mind was on the death of her spirits; the two did not go out in the same way.
When Kimlira was killed, it wasn’t her spirit but the seed Elinor planted, anchoring her to this world. It was painful to Elinor, but Kimlira simply returned to the grave.
On the other hand, the assassin had an ancient technology implanted into his body and spirit, which tore him to pieces when her branching seed tried to sprout; a confrontation between the technology and her power didn’t send the Nalvean to the afterlife or wherever spirits went but wiped it from existence.
That was what stunned Sari’aél into silent meditation, and Elinor hadn’t even noticed the difference until the woman mentioned it. Elinor had nothing to base their losses to since she hadn’t experienced what it was like to have a servant pass on.
However, the angel understood something about the incident that she didn’t, yet she still wasn’t sure why the Seraph was so shaken by the action. Yes, it felt horrifying and painful in a way Elinor couldn’t explain, yet her Lich Nature dulled that sensation to a significant degree.
Elinor slowed a little to look at the woman floating beside their group, several feet to her left, passing through Nalveans as if they were the ghosts; her entourage matched her new pace, following Elinor’s gaze.
Sari’aél, why was the death of that random Nalvean so hard for you? It was spiritual death, but what is the significance of that?
The Seraph’s stoic golden eyes lifted to her. “…” After a few seconds, her focus fell to the ground, sadness in her soft voice. “I have entered a place that is far removed from the reality I know … dead is not frightening to me since all Children of the Sun return to the Blood Sun. Yet what you felt … that vulnerability opened my eyes to something I had not understood.”
She paused, gathering her worlds. “My … divine flames have erased countless beings that sought to attack The Children of the Sun, and while I know where we go … where do these spirits that are purged or torn asunder rest? I now see that there are no second chances for our enemies … we are simply too powerful.”
Elinor knew the angel was struggling with something probably very simple yet was entirely new to the six-winged creature. Ask me whatever you wish; I will tell you no lies. What have you seen that is troubling you?
“Troubling me…” Sari’aél repeated, holding a hand to her chest. “What is it you want, Elinor?” She asked, giving her a concerned look.
A soft sigh passed through Elinor’s connection to the angel. I … want to build a new life with my servants … my people, She corrected, trying to counter her overpowering Lich Nature. I want to build and protect … however, there is a piece of me that can never be satisfied until I confront whoever did this to me.
Does that make sense? Elinor asked, watching the Seraph’s full pink lips curve into a slight smile before looking up at the shining sun, climbing into the sky.
“Hmm … when you talk to me, there is a subtle note hidden within your words that translates into a tragic plea.”
Her green irises creased with confusion; she didn’t like that word. Plea … what am I pleading for?
“If I was to put those emotions and tones into words myself … you feel like you’re falling, but you’re desperately trying to fly; the question of where all the goodness in your life has gone haunts your damaged heart. When you speak to me, you’re looking for angels in the darkest of skies, yet wondering if I can satisfy that hope you seek.”
Elinor’s lips tightened, averting her gaze from the Seraph’s golden eyes. … Careful what you wish to know, I suppose, she mumbled. The woman’s answer pricked her heart, even past her Lich Racials. Am I asking for a miracle … too much? What is the major difference you see while looking through my eyes, Sari’aél? She asked.
The angelic figure closed her eyes, holding her enclosed hands against her breast. “I see a world of weak creatures, looking for answers in the highest of highs, looking for light inside an ocean of night. Uncertainty, loneliness, grief, pain, a struggle to reach something greater.
“They don’t know what they really want, but it isn’t what they have; gratitude for what one has is such a foreign concept, and that repulses me, yet … there is a desire to understand this world within my hearts. I have never cried because of … sorrow … to feel true loss. Tragedy and beauty I have not experienced fill your soul.”
Elinor’s pain subsided with a small smile. Perhaps you are right … I believe having you around will be a miracle, Sari’aél, and you will help me keep a part of myself I want to shelter. It is ultimately your decision, but as you said … in this ocean of night, I am looking for light … an angel in these dark skies. Thank you for your honesty, Sari’aél; I might not always like it … I need it, though.
Sari’aél chuckled. “Weakness is such a strange feeling … when you have my body, I will give you a clear answer.”
A long puff of air shot through Elinor’s throat, drawing Edmon, Violet, and Castella’s eye, perceptive enough to catch her actions.
“Is something wrong, Elinor?” Edmon asked, black helmet centering on her.
A lot is wrong in my life, yet I am grateful for what I have … including you, Edmon.
He bowed his head. “I am not worthy of such praise.”
Are we worthy of anything? Elinor mumbled; her Empress Nature was somewhat resistant to her words but less than she imagined they’d be. No … I’ll take what I can get and be thankful for that which I can keep. Edmon … let’s redouble our efforts; we must win. Demon’s eye is always on us; it will take a miracle to survive everything he is sending at us.
Edmon’s smooth voice turned to ice. “He will not have you.”
A short laugh shook her chest; her Religious System was returning with a vengeance against her Undead System. She couldn’t deny it, though; the only reason she survived thus far was luck … a miracle in itself. Tiffany happened to have the ability to counter Demon, and it may not have even been the start of her fortune.
Sari’aél was right; she was trying so hard to fly, but every time she felt like progress was being made, gravity was pulling her down.
Walking through the massive palace gates, Elinor made her way to the exact area she felt Kimlira separated from her Nexus.
Klaus and the boy split off soon after entering, and the City Guard finished his report, leaving to give it to his superior; the fact Elinor was attacked in the Capital was perturbing to the man since he was on patrol. It wasn’t a good show of confidence in their abilities if the Ruler of another kingdom was in danger, even if discovering it and making it her business.
In a rather unassuming hallway, the Imperial Guards gave each other curious glances when her small group stopped near its center, more so when she voiced her reason for being there.
“Hikico’rova…”
The man hurried forward, giving her a salute. “Yes, Empress Elinor?”
Her glowing green irises glared at a space fifteen feet above them, not far distant. “Someone that wishes me dead stood in this spot no more than an hour and seven minutes ago. I need you to investigate this space and ask around to discover who passed through here at that time.”
Imiruba’s hand tightened around his wrist behind his back. “How do you know this, Empress Elinor?”
Elinor gave him a secretive smile. “I have many abilities that I cannot explain to you, Confidant of the High Ruler. There are forces at work within your Empire that seek to overthrow me, and I have been slowly gathering more and more evidence; you have only seen a fragment of what moves against me.”
His brow creased with concern, but he nodded. “If there are any concerns, then I will bring them to the High Ruler.”
“I’m sure,” Elinor replied, returning her focus to the Imperial Guard. “I will have much to discuss with the High Ruler myself when we meet later this night. Now, Hikico’rova, will you do as I ask?”
He bowed. “I will launch an investigation, Empress, but everything I find must be reported to the Imperial Head Captain.”
“Understandable,” Elinor conceded. “Now … Elquara.” The woman stiffened upon being addressed. “You will guide us to Prince Micru’jire. Where will he be at this time?”
Imiruba was the one to answer her, drawing Elinor’s eye. “The Eldest Prince will be in his chambers, working on his artistic talents, Empress.”
Elquara swiftly nodded. “Y-Yes, Empress,” she mumbled, shying away from Edmon as he looked at her, tail curling under a bit to press against her ankle. “H-His High Prince usually … he doesn’t like being disturbed when at work…”
Elinor caught Imiruba’s distasteful expression when she called him High Prince, which was likely a title the man had created himself.
Edmon’s cold tone caused a shiver to run down all the Nalvean guards’ frames in the echoey hall. “Why would Her Imperial Majesty, Empress Elinor of the Undying Empire, be concerned about what a prince wishes?”
Castella followed the scathing remark. “Much less a prince that sent a spy to sow discord among the City-States and show disrespect to Her Imperial Majesty, Empress Elinor of the Undying Empire.”
The air in Elquara’s lungs was frozen in place as she whimpered a weak, “Mh-hmh,” while doing a quick bow and salute before stiffly leading the way back.
The High Ruler’s confidant didn’t say anything but gave Castella a lingering look, falling into line. It wasn’t like he could say anything and was likely finding the situation unfavorable to the image the Emperor was trying to give Elinor.
Romimaca winced at the rebuke, but Elquara’s response implied what the prince wanted mattered to Elinor.
So far, what Imiruba knew was that Elinor had been shown disrespect by both royalty and common-folk, was trying to be used as a political pawn, had been attacked within the Capital City, and at odds with Yesenia to a certain extent from the information Hikico’rova and Romimaca gave him.
Elinor’s first impressions were that of power and intelligence; the Nalvean Empire’s response had been anything but ideal by friendly standards. In fact, her reaction so far had been relatively mild by outward observations.
“Empress,” Imiruba said, trying to draw her attention as they walked, “might I inquire upon a few matters?”
“By all means,” she returned with a neutral smile.
“I appreciate your straightforward responses, Empress,” he bowed, vision shifting to Elquara for a moment; the stiff woman was leading their group through the palace to the prince’s chambers. “What are your current intentions with the prince?”
“Hehe,” Elinor gave him a side-long look. “I am not going to murder the prince if that is what you are implying.”
“A discussion?” He pressed.
Her focus shifted to the red waters that pumped out of the walls through artistic stonework, crafted into the walls, following their gentle movements running in the opposite direction of their travel. “My hope for this visit was not to cause tensions between our Empires, Imiruba, but to enter a profitable trade agreement with your nation, and that stands.”
Elinor’s glowing eyes locked on the Nalvean’s. “That being said, I am not the kind of Empress that will allow disrespect to go unaddressed, and I will not be used as a political card. Do you not agree that if I open myself up to be used, then it is an invitation for further exploitation?”
A puff of air passed through his black tongue as it flicked out of his mouth. “I understand your position, Empress, and apologize on behalf of the High Ruler for how you have been received by some within our Empire.”
The statement surprised Elinor; as the High Ruler’s most trusted confidant and appointee, his remark was looked at as if their Ruler apologized himself. It was basically a national offering of remorse on behalf of its citizens. Even Castella was a bit taken aback by the unhesitating reply.
“Accepted,” Elinor stated; it was the only graceful action she could take. “I still plan on having a private conversation with the prince. However, I will leave my Gatekeeper and Castella with you outside to show how much I trust your words.”
He gave her a deep bow. “I am thankful and will report the action to the High Ruler.”
Of course, Violet would be with her. The one-on-one would also put the prince’s guard down and make him feel more important than he actually was, which seemed to be a weakness for the proud Nalvean.
It took some time to make it through the long passageways that linked the palace’s many wings, shaped like a pentagon. They took an elevator to the 8th level to reach an area with several rooms, all given to the prince.
The Imperial Guards at the doors gave them uncertain looks as their group entered the corridor, and Romimaca hurried forward to explain what was about to happen. When they neared, the man and woman opened the large, metallic double doors.
Violet rushed through, unnoticed, searching for danger, and Edmon entered to announce her as the others retreated to the opposite side of the hall.
The prince was in the middle of a large, circular room with various posh furniture that almost mirrored the Royal Quarters Elinor had been given to stay at. On couches and chairs around the room were Nalvean females, considering their long, thick tails and slimmer frames. Judging by the minimal layers of silk around their figures and where the cloth was placed, Elinor assumed they were scantily dressed.
Standing at the room’s center was the muscular salamander, reflecting a few of his youngest sister’s features, showing more green and less blue scales. He had similar silk that his father wore, but it was placed in slightly different areas.
Unlike the first time Elinor had seen him, the man lacked many of the decorative pieces, instead splattered with some kind of white clay-like substance that he was using to mold a statue of himself. His expensive coverings were caked in the alabaster putty, and placed not far away was a painting that Elinor assumed was of himself.
Tapping into Castella’s mind when she caught sight of the room’s interior, Elinor smiled. Edmon announced her entrance as Castella took a quick glance around the space, amused eyes lingering on the painting and sculpture before retreating with the rest.
Prince Micru’jire was not pleased by the interruption upon seeing Elquara in the hall, dull green reptilian irises shifting between his uninvited guests, but he patiently waited for Edmon to finish.
Standing behind her Doom Guard, Elinor asked Castella, What is your opinion of his work?
The woman coughed a laugh, trying not to let it escape outside the Nexus. “He … ahem … has a very skewed vision of his personal image. Prince Micru’jire has always been self-conscious about rather average looks compared to the rest of his siblings; I suppose he is trying to give a false impression to future generations because he is nowhere near as attractive as that painting depicts.”
Noted. Elinor chuckled.
The prince gave her a proper bow when Edmon finished, lowering his gaze; she noticed he was slightly shorter than many of the females around the room, all practically in an inverted L position upon her appearance. “Empress Elinor … what an unexpected and delightful surprise! Please, forgive my mess; if I knew you wished to meet, I would have come to you. Might I take a moment to freshen up to receive you? As you can see … I am rather engaged with my passion.”
“By all means,” Elinor replied, hands behind her back as she further entered the room. “I have ordered my guard to remain in the hall so we may talk in private, and am in no rush. Return to your chambers and dress properly.”
“You are too kind, Empress!” He bowed again, showing nothing but delight in his tone. His dull green eyes shot to the Nalveans around the room. “The Empress has spoken … why are you still here?”
All fifteen women swiftly made mildly panicked apologies before exiting with more gestures that Castella distastefully explained were extremely diminutive. As a very militaristic and strong mercantile race, Nalveans like Castella were critical of submissive behavior; it appeared the prince favored the opposite trait in his women.
The Imperial Guards kept the entrance open with the quick exchange, and the prince respectfully left, doors closing after his exit.
Now alone with Violet, they had enough time for the spider to construct another silken throne for her to relax in. Her mind was occupied by Edmon and Castella outside as the prince stopped in front of his spy.
Edmon repeated his actions for Elinor to follow; Elquara was practically petrified with fear as the much shorter male Nalvean stood in front of her.
“I am very disappointed in you … why have you not done what is expected of your actions, Elquara? Hmm … good. We will discuss the ramifications of your actions later.”
Elquara was blushing with embarrassment and shame, everyone’s eyes on her as the salamander woman hesitantly handed the prince two scrolls and began to self-strip, ripping her silk garments in half.
Micru’jire watched her take the torn chest article and make two folds in it before wrapping it around her neck; she finished by dropping to her knees with tears in her eyes and bowing to him. “I h-have broken your t-trust and … and my word, High Prince. I am without worth.”
It didn’t sit right with Elinor. Castella was disgusted by both Elquara and Micru’jire; this was out of the norm to see an old ritual such as this … public shame that Elquara would be required to demonstrate for a month before being forgiven.
Elinor had Edmon ask her question, given he was seen to have a rank that was the equivalent to a Statesman, he was well within his right to address the prince. “Did you expect Elquara to lie to Her Imperial Majesty?”
The prince gave Edmon a respectful bow and smile. “By no means … you are Gatekeeper Edmon. Correct? A High Ruler standing just below Empress Elinor?”
“Indeed.”
He nodded, rising back to face her Doom Guard. “It is not who she has broken my trust with but the fact it was broken; the breach of trust itself is the issue. I cannot accept her service moving forward. Do you understand?”
Elquara was doing her best to keep her sniffles to herself, but it seemed challenging for her to stop the tears and shaking frame. The other fifteen women that had exited all showed signs of fear upon his statement and the rejected woman’s punishment.
I don’t like it. Elinor grumbled.
“Say what you will, it is an effective method to keep control over servants, and Tiffany would agree,” Edmon stated and gave the prince a nod. However, to express Elinor’s feelings, he said, “Understandable. However, it will lose its bite if done too often.”
Micru’jire chuckled. “I agree, Gatekeeper Edmon, and it is something I rarely have to exercise; the fact I must remove her from my service proves how capable your Empress is. Now, I do not wish to keep your mistress long. May I go?”
“Excellent response.”
Bowing again, the prince retreated to a nearby room. Elinor was on Castella’s side; she didn’t like the prince’s style. She ruled by the fear of her power, true, but she did not humiliate her opponents; although … she had to question Tiffany’s approach if she weren’t around to reign her in. Edmon may look intimidating, but the Witch was far more methodical and ruthless with her ritualistic ways than the prince could ever hope to conceptualize.
Elinor had Castella bring Elquara away from the group; the woman had trouble standing but was obedient. She was shunned by Micru’jire and would have some kind of punishment later, but the broken Nalvean was in a moldable state that she could use.
She instructed the woman to go to Klaus. Her Ambassador should be able to get something out of her, and she couldn’t refuse when Castella mentioned the order came from Elinor, not that she was that resilient to taking instructions.
Klaus was sent the breakdown of what occurred; he reported that Aluix was very peppy and energetic, but there wasn’t anything particularly unique the boy expressed that would have drawn Demon’s concentrated attention. He refused to say why his Stateswoman needed Elinor’s support, though, saying he couldn’t reveal it since he swore secrecy; in fact, he shouldn’t have even told them Lukuroha was troubled.
It took less than five minutes for the man to freshen up and return to the room.
Elinor watched him re-enter, carrying an expensive-looking bag at his side that he personally went to Edmon to verify; inside were the two rolled-up scrolls Elquara had given him. Castella was with Elquara at the time, but with a quick explanation of the general seal, she reported it was Statesman Baltoma’s mark, piquing Elinor’s interest.
He was mildly surprised at her silken chair when he entered, guards closing the doors behind him; Violet inspected him, not finding anything suspicious, and the Spider Sister was practically an entire forensic investigation unit.
“Empress, I hope you did not wait long … and might I add … that throne is … exquisite,” he said in shock, taking the seat opposite her. “Is it entirely made of silk?”
Bypassing his earlier comment, Elinor nodded. “Indeed, it is. I heard about Elquara’s punishment … it seems you have some kind of control over her. Is there such a method the Nalveans use for slaves? Is it a device?”
The prince hummed with a thoughtful tone, gesturing to a small area where it looked like drinks could be made. “Please, excuse me, Empress; I will answer your question, but might I brew us a drink? I am quite skilled in the herbal teas.”
Elinor wanted to grimace at the thought; herbal teas were not her thing, but she was always up for experimentation, and it wasn’t like it would kill her. “By all means,” she replied in a neutral tone.
He got up, moving to the table, voice holding a joyful tone. “Wonderful! As to your question, Empress, I have heard rumors of such methods; I assume you have come across those same sources yourself. The network you have shown to possess is … quite astonishing.”
Micru’jire shifted his body in a way for her to see exactly what he was doing while brewing their two drinks, using a small blue flame in a jar to heat the water. “These rumors are only shared within … high circles, let’s say,” he chuckled. “Devices that could make Nalvean personal motives … irrelevant. However,” his wide eyes turned to give her a calculating look, “I hear all of your soldiers are completely loyal to you.”
He released a thoughtful hum, vision turning to the door before his tongue slid through the gaps in his teeth. “Castella proclaimed as much to my father’s inquiries, which I find … fascinating, and your ability to return the dead to the prime of their youth. Heh … it is quite curious.”
Elinor did not like how he was moving the conversation. “How so?”
“Mmh,” he nodded, inspecting many of the herbs within colored jars across the table. “I was very young when the Fire Wars started … my two older siblings dying to the beasts.”
She didn’t quite believe he was that sad about them perishing; it bumped him up to the eldest prince, after all.
“During those years, I only saw a little of Castella, and she was already quite an impressive figure of Nalvean beauty … and so strong-willed. It was a shame her battle scars marred that image, although,” he turned with a bright smile, “you fixed her into a sight of perfection!”
Great … he’s a creep. Tal’tamine had to deal with an older brother like this… She was starting to wonder if the torture the princess endured was just the physical beating kind. The truth would come out in time, but Micru’jire was not giving her an excellent first impression.
“So, you’re attracted to Castella?” She asked, trying not to sound disgusted; Sari’aél floated into the room, drawing her eyes for a moment. “And yes … my people are all entirely loyal to me. What are you trying to imply?”
“Oh, nothing, Empress,” he laughed, bringing a small stand to set her cup beside her; Sari’aél was studying her with a perfectly stoic expression. “No, I have more of a … curiosity with the implications. What would it be like to sleep with the living dead? If they are utterly loyal to you, couldn’t you order something like that? In fact, can they reproduce?” He inquired before taking his own seat to sip at his drink.
Yup … a creep. Castella…
“Yes, Empress?”
He wants me to order you to sleep with him … and he wants to know if he can get you pregnant.
“Excuse me … is he insane?” Castella growled, fury flaring through her connection to the Elite Soldier. “I … I would, if you ordered me, but … but…”
No, Castella … I would never order you to do something like that.
“… Thank you, Empress,” Castella whispered with relief, but her anger was still present. “I knew he was a little obsessed with women, considering the rumors that ran through the Imperial Guards, but … he was not like this fifteen years ago.”
Tal’tamine was the proper choice, after all.
“She really is a sweet child,” Castella agreed. “What will you tell him?”
Elinor allowed Castella to listen in on her conversation; to be honest, she wondered if her undead could become pregnant, as well, but for entirely different reasons than the prince.
“Empress?” He questioned.
Elinor couldn’t suppress a glare, and it touched her voice. “I am not that type of Ruler to subject my loyal subjects into such acts. Do not suggest such things to me again.”
A shiver ran down Micru’jire’s body at her tone, and the cold atmosphere Imperial Presence generated. “I … did not mean to offend, Empress Elinor. I see … so, such discussions are not spoken within your Empire.”
“They are not.”
He swiftly set his cup down, bowing to her. “I understand and apologize for my rude behavior.”
“He better be,” Castella grunted. “I am not one of his weak-willed harlots.”
No, you are not, Elinor chuckled.
He cleared his throat. “Empress … might I be so bold as to ask why such subjects are tabooed within your Empire … even if they might net valuable information? I simply do not understand.”
Is he trying to say he’s willing to trade something I want for sex with you? Elinor asked, and Castella couldn’t even believe he would continue to push the topic after her statement.
Elinor’s hands tightened against her lap, and she showed a hint of annoyance. “I have no need for such roundabout methods if I wish to learn something, as you have seen with your spy … there are a plethora of options at my disposal to get the information I desire.”
“Heh,” The prince shrugged off his discomfort, but Violet reported his sweats and nervous twitches. “Ahem … I sincerely apologize … I seem to be not very accustomed to your customs, Empress. Please, excuse my behavior.”
There isn’t an apologetic bone in his body. Elinor grunted, causing Castella to go into a minor rant about how she’d hoped many of the rumors she’d heard were false, but this was more than a little eye-opening.
He took a deep breath, smiling tone returning. “How has my sister been? I have received reports that she has yet to be seen with you and been educating your maids; has she been unsatisfactory as a primary instructor within our ways?”
“No,” Elinor replied, neutrality returning to her countenance. “Tal’tamine has been a wonderful example of Nalvean royalty,” she stated, and judging by how his lips twitched, he caught the biting rebuke. “I would go so far as to recommend she return to my Empire to help instruct more of my servants.”
Miru’jire nodded with a pleased grin. “Good. She is rather young still; she never even met our eldest brother and older sister. That being said, Empress … might I say, for not having a firm grasp on our culture, you have a masterful comprehension of our language for a foreigner. Most Nalveans would stare in awe at such knowledge.”
Buttering me up while changing the topic, he’s phishing for a point he can draw me to his side with.
“I’m sure you will understand why I am so refined in your language as time goes on.”
“I look forward to it! Hmm … Empress, may I be candid with you?”
A wry smirk lit Elinor’s lips. “You haven’t been already?”
“Heh … I suppose I have been rather forward; again, my apologies.”
“Mmh,” Elinor’s expression fell, “how many more apologies must I accept?”
“Excellent point,” he replied with a sad sigh, shifting to relieve some stress in his muscles. “Empress … I wish to know the most pressing concern on your mind that needs addressing. To be candid, I require a problem solved, myself, and you are in a prime position with my father to help me. We can assist each other.”
Elinor’s silent stare started to make the Nalvean’s fingers twitch, but he kept most of his composure. “… Perhaps you could be of some use to me … however, before we get into that … why were you trying to turn me away from Stateswoman Lukuroha?”
Micru’jire breathed out a hiss, glaring at the statue he was creating. “Lukuroha and I have had … a disagreement of some sorts as of recent, and given that she is more inclined to fall in line with Statesman Baltoma, I made a risky play to turn you against that faction. You do understand our politics. Correct?”
She had to refrain from laughing, but Castella was a bit confused about the statement. “He knows that Lukuroha is going to side with Baltoma?”
No, no, no, Elinor chuckled internally. She rejected his advances. He probably wanted to secure a stronger position in the Court by getting close to the weakest of the City-States, turning her into one of his women.
“Ah … he really is vial. I have met Lukuroha a few times, and she is not weak.”
Indeed.
“I see,” Elinor mused. “Very well. That out of the way … I wonder if you have the influence to achieve the artwork I desire.”
The prince’s sour mood vanished in an instant, intrigue taking its place. “Artwork? Are you interested in obtaining one of our prized possessions? I am a great contributor to the Royal Art Gallery myself, as you can see!” He stated, rising to display his half-finished piece. “If there is anyone with the connections you would need, I am the greatest; please, tell me which article has caught your eye!”
Elinor nodded slowly. “I see … there is this angelic statue that reminds me of my world … yet the Nalvean additions are what really impress me. The cultural flair you have added is exquisite. In truth, I wish to have the piece become a … defining part of my Empire.”
Micru’jire’s expression fell upon learning the artwork she’d become so attached to had come from the Quen’Talrat, but perked up quickly when praising the Nalvean influence to its surroundings.
“Ah … yes, Aviary Flight of the Morning Dew,” he nodded, tongue sliding through his lips again. “Hmm…” He got to his feet, tail swinging left and right as he paced between his artworks. “I … do not have full jurisdiction over that particular statue … Statesman Baltoma owns the Quen’Talrat centerpiece itself while the gallery owns the additions.”
“A shame,” Elinor sighed, getting to her feet. “I suppose I will need to meet with the Statesman.”
“Wait … please, Empress,” Micru’jire hurriedly mumbled, glaring at the bag by his chair. “I … might be able to give you the leverage you require to obtain it. Although, for such a simple request, this blackmail is … excessive.”
“Oh?” Elinor asked, slowly returning to her seat. “You have my interest.”
The prince released a low growl. “Mmgh … it took a lot to obtain this … you would be willing to solve my problem?” He asked with a hesitant smile.
“Go on,” she said, trying to suppress a grin; only a few steps were between her and her angel.
Sari’aél’s stoic features had softened over the conversation, focusing more on Elinor than her surroundings. “You are close.”
Very!
“If I were to give you this blackmail … let me take a step back,” Micru’jire mumbled, returning to his seat and grabbing the bag; he held it protectively in his lap, staring at her uncertainly. “These are secret documents from Baltoma … incriminating, given the area my spy obtained them. With your arrival, Baltoma’s stress rose to the point I was able to sneak Elquara into his bed chambers to steal these from a portable documents box he always keeps near and under guard.”
“Very well,” Elinor folded her fingers together. “If that blackmail gets me the statue I want from Baltoma, I will go through with this deal, depending on if it is within my power and it does not jeopardize my Empire’s relationship with yours.”
“Heh,” the prince breathed out a long breath before giving her a bright grin. “I have no doubt this will get you what you desire … more, even, and what I want is very simple and within your means.”
“Continue…”
“Yes, Empress … ahem,” he took a small sip of his tea; Elinor hadn’t touched hers. “When you strike a deal with my father, he will grant you an Embassy within our nation; every other kingdom is offered it … although, they don’t utilize the tradition,” he grumbled, clearly annoyed at the disrespect.
“There is a section of land with a prize on it I want within a part of the city that is completely owned by the High Ruler … only a single, large building, and if you could bargain for it as a base for your Embassy. Suggest to him that you will tear it down to make your own, in the image of your Empire … Yes, that would be perfect! You just need to allow me three days alone inside before construction.”
Figuring there was some long-lost treasure within that Demon wanted him to get, Elinor became intrigued. It was probably buried or sealed in its foundations or in the walls.
The prince took another excited breath, trying to reassure her. “He has no reason to not give you the land; it’s the property of the High Ruler!”
Rising to her feet, electricity was coursing through Elinor’s veins. “It’s a deal; I will bring it up to him tonight.”
Taking a single scroll that he produced from the bag, she left the room, the prince thanking her profusely.
The prince was pretty simple to manipulate, but that could have been precisely why Demon chose him; she doubted Demon expected Micru’jire to maneuver into the position to obtain the item for many years on his own. He never expected another player to enter the game that could use his puppet, and that was Demon’s flaw. He had long-standing plans with carefully guided pawns that he would move across years.
“You don’t plan to give him whatever is inside, do you?” Castella asked.
Of course not, Elinor giggled. I promised to give him alone time; he will have the opportunity to search, but there’s no agreement where I can’t steal it from him or take it myself. He thinks I’m stupid and am enamored by a pretty statue. In fact, it may just be a piece of an even greater prize.
The important part is that he just exposed one of Demon’s plots. I suppose I did show up rather suddenly; Demon hasn’t been able to warn most of his players about me.
Sari’aél hummed with amusement. “There must be a reason why he chose this route instead of just going in at night and digging around.”
True, Elinor hummed, realizing she might have been a bit short-sighted. Pausing at the opening doors, Edmon informing the guards of her exit, she turned back at the thrilled prince. “Micru’jire…”
“Yes, Empress?” He asked, calming his tone and bowing to her.
“Give Castella the directions to the building; I need to know where it is.”
“Of course!”
He rushed out of the room to address Castella; the woman was far less thrilled to be speaking to the man after learning about his lusts.
Elinor gave the prince a calculating stare before they left, whispering just loud enough for him to hear her. “Did you know about an attack on my life?”
A wicked grin split the man’s lips as he pointed to the sealed document in Castella’s claws, several feet away. “What do you think that is?”
Satisfied, Elinor left with a smirk; they made their way to the spot, stopping in to check on the investigation along the way.
“Excellent,” Edmon chuckled while disengaging. “Now, Castella, what is that building used for?”
Castella released a confused hum through the Nexus. “Umm … it’s a historical Seaweaver site that has not been used for some time, but it does hold holy significance to the religion. He’s trying to play you,” she grumbled. “It may be within the High Ruler’s jurisdiction, but the High Seaweaver holds a lot of authority, and he would be going up against the Church to appoint it as an Embassy, especially since they hate you.”
Manageable, I think, Elinor mused, staring at her scroll. Read it to be sure.
Castella broke the seal and read out the contents. It was a detailed contract copy that Baltoma made with a particular Shadow Hand member Klaus was unaware of. Her Ambassador had only taken over a single finger of the five cells within the Capital, and it was the weakest or the pinky and he had yet to get to the nail or leader, but he was close.
The contract was insurance for him against the Head; it exposed the cell leader, a ranking Seaweaver within the Head Seaweaver Court. This information not only gave them Baltoma but an ear inside of the High Seaweaver’s most influential circle.
This was indeed a win, and Castella’s eyes bugged out upon seeing the price he’d paid to have Elinor killed; she’d never seen funds like that transferred, but one more exciting bit of news was on the paper … the additional hit made against the Imperial Head Captain, Hakara.
Musing on the information with the others, Elinor planned their course from the palace to the site that would soon become her Embassy to discover exactly what she was dealing with.
Maps:
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