“Now that we have received all the information I think we are going to get, unless the person in question shows up, I think it is time to wrap this up.” Aled wanted to make sure that this was over with before Earl Blake managed to find another lousy excuse. It would never end if he allowed that.
“It is my decree that Jett Blake shall be cast out of noble circles, never to inherit a title within my Kingdom. I am saying this for clarity but it should be obvious, that means that he will not be marrying anyone who inherits a title either. Are there any objections, Earl Blake?” The King’s words were understood by everyone, Jett would no longer be engaged to Nela. As her father’s only child, she was next in line to his title. It was either he marry her and her father’s title gets given to someone else or they not marry at all.
“…” Blake’s silence was enough for everyone to understand how he felt about this. The dark expression on his face had not let up for almost as long as he had been in the hall. ‘Tch, looks like he still has some brains to him.’ Aled was hoping that the earl would try to object more. The more he did, the worse the situation he put himself and his son in. It seemed that Blake had noticed that too.
“Is there anything that you would like to add, Viscount Braydon. You did come here just for this after all.” Aled decided that there was nothing more to say on the topic and was planning to round off the ‘festivities’. Duke Burn was starting to look restless now that the spears had been withdrawn. He did not want the man to mess things up now that he had just settled the matter.
“Nothing that is important enough for the royal court, your Majesty.” Braydon once again made a small bow before he led Nela to step into the crowd of nobles. They had been standing in the centre of the hall all this time and he did not want to be the centre of attention for much longer. He was usually fine being the centre of attention, but that changed when it was nobles attention he was gathering. Most of the people here did not truly care about what had happened, they were here for the entertainment or to see who would win.
“Nicely done.” When they stopped moving and turned to look back at the King, a soft whisper came from beside them. He had made sure to not stand near either of the Dukes but had not paid attention to who else was nearby. That there was anyone that would talk to him here was a surprise, he knew Nela’s father was not in attendance.
“You flatter us.” Nela had obviously been paying more attention to where they were going than he had, not at all flustered that someone was speaking to them. When Braydon turned to see who it was, he was even more surprised to see that it was Countess Graham. For someone already in her mid thirties, she looked very young. Had Braydon not known, he would have thought she was slightly older than Nela rather than just over a decade older. She wore her light brown hair in a high plaited bun. The Countess was also breath taking in the beauty department, Braydon thought her looks had as much to do with her notoriety as her controversial choice of husband. He felt like he was looking at an expensive toy doll rather than a living breathing woman.
“With that matter at its end, we will end today’s session here. After what we have just heard, I am sure nobody is in the mood to deal with other petty matters.” Before they could whisper more, the King decided to round off the morning’s session early. Most of the lords and ladies had started whispering among themselves anyway. They had only come for the excitement, not the boring things that would come afterward. There was a reason that most days the royal court was very sparse. Decisions would get made so long as there were representatives from each faction at court. Most would only show up to watch the lively parts, this just happened to be more lively than usual.
“Would you two care to join me for a stroll through the outer gardens?” Countess Graham invited Braydon and Nela. Braydon wondered why the person with a reputation for social reclusion was asking such a question but he could not see why he should refuse. He looked at Nela, to see her opinion, and when she nodded he accepted the offer.
Duke Burn would not be leaving today anyway, that was not his style. When he came to the capital he stayed for at least a week at a time. This wasn’t something that Nela had learnt from looking into it, instead this was well known among those who did not live under a rock. As for why, Braydon presumed that it was to learn more details to cause conflict with at a later date. The capital was the best place in the kingdom to hear gossip, if you were not the King that was. Nobody would dare talk to him about noble gossip, that was asking for one of the other factions to take action against them.
Braydon had never actually been in the outer gardens of the palace. In his previous few visits, he had gone to the palace gardens, the King’s private area. The outer gardens were one of the areas that the visiting nobility preferred to use to talk in private. It was an incredibly large area, and though it was not as pretty as the palace gardens, still was one of the most beautiful parts of Boshil.
As they slowly walked through the gardens, they could see the occasional small group of ladies talking amongst each other. There were far more than had been in the great hall, likely they had chosen to wait for their spouses out here rather than join the proceedings. That or they were gathered to talk about what the few that had been in the hall had witnessed.
When Braydon saw one or two ladies that he had seen in the royal court join some of the groups, he confirmed his suspicions. He also became aware of the fact that there were very few men in the gardens. ‘They’re probably already off in some drawing room smoking those new cigars from who knows where.’ ‘New’ was a loose word, they had been popular among many noblemen for some years now. Merchants from the west had brought them and they had become an instant favourite among those with enough money to waste. He had never grown fond of them.
