Chapter 9. Palace, King And Choice Idiots
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While I was ruminating on those issues, palace had snuck up around me. Honestly, I didn't even notice the transition from carriage to the audience hall, utterly preoccupied with my worries. Thankfully, courteous behavior is pretty much my default autopilot setting, so no harm nor foul. It seems that the king is... more than a little surprised by being gifted ripple steel. The swords could be mistaken for old supplies, but the handmill is definitely new, given it's my design and all. He actually requests a demonstration, and a sizable pot of steaming tea is brought out on my request. OOh, nice, genuine china. Considering the size of the steeping pot, I give the mill three cranks (It's full of mixed mint and rosemary.) and announce five minute waiting time. King wastes no time questioning ME about the steel. Apparently either dad boasted already, or the rumors are much speedier than I estimated, because good old Abe seems to be certain it was me who tipped off dwarves about the proper method of pattern-welded forging.

I softpedal the issue. Deflecting the whole thing into "I just lucked out to read the right myth at the right time" direction works, in no small part because studying mythos is one of the "appropriate" occupations for a noble maiden. Ed's not present. Thankfully. Which means they're going to send me off after tea tasting so I could "get reacquainted and exchange pleasantries" while dad and king work out what cut the kingdom gets from the new wares. Ooh, tea is ready. ...What's with the faces? For crying out loud, why do you look like you just had a revelation? ...Aaaand of course that's when dad is gonna pull out the sugar. He certainly knows his presentations, but goodness golly gracious, he is totally putting ME on the spot.

Sugar takes a bit of time to explain. The "it's alchemically extracted sweetness of zukerrohr" part goes over easy, alchemical extracts are nothing new. But when the king wants to know how do we handle the sugarcane supply part of it? Yeah. Well. Suffice to say my suggestion to have everyone sent out of the room didn't go over... well. Some cries over "do you not trust the honor of". Sorely tempted to retort that any honor is for sale, so long as the price is right, but that would probably lead to people wanting to duel. And not with ME, either, because I'd go for it, but with father. Side note, duels are legal, though only to the first blood. Surrender and humiliation are also viable winning conditions. Humiliation, in this case, being subdued or exhausted into inability to stand without any drawn blood. King can sanction a duel to the death, but generally does not. Thankfully.

Father, of course, is very much for the secrecy. No brainer, really, given that several other people present at the audience for one reason or another are barely concealing their avarice at this point. So, in order to avoid making things way too awkward, I offer to submit the explanation to the king in writing, with the caveat that it will be his decision on who will be privy to the information henceforth. Aaaand of course he wants it now. So here I am, writing down the basics of beet to sugar. And doing my best to ignore the abominable moron that volunteered to "escort" me. He is currently nursing a broken nose in the next room, fussed over by a number of maids. No, I did not punch him. No, he is not even aware I'm the cause of this. He simply stumbled and landed nose-first into a standing armor. Fist, meet nose. Crunch. Delightful. Pro-tip - don't annoy freeform shapeshifter with your obvious attempts to spy.

Thankfully, the actual escort, that being two knights from the palace detail, seem to be grasping the idea of secrecy better, since they stayed out of the room while I wrote. Ok, time to go back... What, no, I'm NOT handing over the missive to mister SmashNose, no way. Why would I want to? Oh, he does not like that. Not at all. Really, continuing the argument as we enter the audience hall? Talk about stupid. Oh, and here we go, the "your highness, I suffered an unjust injury, I must be given this secret in compensation" spiel. Really? King Abraham catches my eyes. Nods to the guy. Sighs. Calls forth the knights who happily confirm mister SmashNose had smashed his nose entirely of his own volition. Case closed... No? What? Seriously? Duel? With father? Over... "impugned honor"? FUCK IT.

___

"Lady Gillespie, are you entirely certain you want to fight personally?" - goodness, the master of ceremonies is sure fussing.

"Yes. I am entirely certain. This man had falsely accused ME of giving him an injury. It stands to reason I must make his words true if he is to remain a nobleman. After all, no noble would stoop as low as to lie in the presence of the king, no?" - I offer back, grinning tightly. A moment later, and I add sotto voice just for the master of ceremonies - "Would you be so kind to fetch bruise ointment? He WILL need it once I am done." Old guy is dubious but apparently my unflappable confidence is sufficient for him to surmise I have some kind of plan.

"Lord Ambercrombe, you are fighting personally as well?" - he inquires.

The ponce preens - "Of course! I mean, I would have sent my maid in my stead, but I fear none of them will be able to restrain their strength sufficiently." Oh dear. He thinks he has a chance. As we meet in the center of the ring, he hisses at me - "You should have known better than to object to your betters, woman. Such arrogance, I shall enjoy disciplining you on proper deference to men." Seriously, how cliché you can get? This is just... over the top. Ridiculously. Now I'm going to humiliate the hell out of him and he's going to be a reoccurring pain in the ass. Except that should be Protagonist's problem. I wonder, how will that work out? Will this guy suddenly end up being a paragon of virtue being unjustly oppressed, or the narration is going to be "too vile even for a villain of the story"?

As he receives a freshly cut lily from the attendant, I take a tulip from mine. Unfortunately, there is simply no way I could have refused the flower at this point without tipping everyone off. Still, I can make it a part of the gesture. A whole royal family is here, after all. Even Ed. There he is, sitting right next to his little sister. Who, in a fit of plot contrivance I'm sure will pop up later is the only one not to bear the name Cullen in the royal family. As the ponce in front of me sketches a bow to the master of ceremonies and begins to chant something about petals, I toss the tulip into Ed's general direction. He has the ABSOLUTE GALL to dodge it and let it fall on his sister's lap instead. Well, fuck you too Ed. Fuck you too.

Next moment my bevy of combat spells kicks in. Haste, body strengthening, heightened perceptions, boosted reflexes... The distance between us shrinks abruptly as I flicker across the floor, planting my fist into the fucker's solar plexus. Have to manage the impact carefully, I want him to be humorously bounced off the arena barrier, not punch straight through his body. "Heeeeh..." - he offers as the air leaves his lungs forcibly, folding around my fist for a moment before it disconnects and he begins his flight towards the barrier. I flicker forth again, passing him by as he sloooowly (in my perception) transitions from upright into horizontal. As I speed by, my right hand grasps his face and drags him forward and downward faster. Change of plans, let's plant this fucker upside down. "...EEEH!" - he finishes against my palm as I drive his skull into the floor, surreptitiously reinforcing his body and weakening the structure of stone in order for him to actually be planted. Stone dust blooms as I ram his head through the floor, leaving him awkwardly arched with his head in the rock upside down to the chin.

"Aaaaaah! AAAAAAH! AAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAA!" - well... his lungs are fine.

"Would you shut up already?" - I grumble, giving him a kick in the ass. Not powered. He keeps screaming, and I see the dark spot quickly spreading over the front of his pants. Why are people such scaredy-cats in this world?

And now the master of ceremonies makes a sound that is oddly reminiscent of bellows drawing air in. "...Hiaaa!... Lady Gillespie wins by humiliation!" - he shouts, looking like he is hurrying to... what? The terrified looks all around gradually change to relieved ones as the ponce's screaming taps off into terrified sobs. They didn't think I'd actually kill him, I hope? Because I'm not going to without the king's sanction, at least. Or blood feud officially declared. Which is a thing I can do, actually. Declare blood feud and murder the hell out of their bloodline. Let's save that for more... problematic fellows, let's say. Because Ambercrombe for all his bluster wasn't even an entertainment. I pick up the lily he dropped, and throw it, this time deliberately towards Lily-Anne, rather than Ed. She catches it, showing more deftness than I expected and waves her fists in the air victoriously, tulip and lily swaying madly as she cheers. I wonder why. Is Ambercrombe an ass to her too? She's a princess, and the ONLY princess at that, but... yeah. Assholes are gonna asshole.

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