I don’t quite know why the idea of ‘tea parties’ became so significant in noble circles, at this point the history is as old as time itself, but that isn’t to say that there’s no good reasoning for it. The warm cup of tea settles me into my seat and makes the speech a little easier to bear.

“While I despise how the crotchety old fools deal with the politics, it’s still something that must be dealt with. There are factions of nobles that wish to incite a new war, without even taking the effort to prepare for it, like a petulant child throwing a tantrum they’re inciting a war and hoping for the royal family to resolve it for them.”

Pansy sits regally before us, the centre of attention as always. The others sip at their tea or nibble at their biscuits, enough of a distraction to allow them a chance to consider their own replies. A proper meal could achieve the same, but the clattering of cutlery and a mouthful of food would interfere with the conversation just a little much.

“It is droll that we so simply divide ourselves into ‘Anti-war’ and ‘Pro-war’ factions, but they are just so insistent on their plans. What are your thoughts, Christina?” She asks, her group turning their attention to me.

Lifting my own drink, I let the filthy brew play over my tongue, while I hide my expression from the others at the table. The movement is itself a statement, an act drawn from a play I once had chance to see, the silence hangs only long enough for my point to be made before I set the tea down again and find a reply.

“We are not prepared for a conflict with the north,” I keep to an obvious statement in agreement with her. “More importantly, what is there to gain from it? Unless the ‘pro-war’ faction has a reasonable plan to seize the northern lands and use them, then it’s all utterly worthless.”

“Dignity,” Pansy answers. “For them, it is about dignity. Our Kingdom was raided, and we were all made to look weak and pathetic, I’ll agree with them on that. What they do not understand is that they only make themselves look more like fools for inciting a war that they are not ready to fight. There is no dignity in how they hold themselves.”

“No, there is not, and I am ashamed that my own father was blinded so,” I reply. “I believe that for now, strengthening and rebuilding our kingdom is of much greater importance. Miners deliver the ore to the smith to forge the weapons that our soldiers and knights will wield, but it is our farmers that feed us all.

“If our kingdom is not stable, then we will fall. We will deserve to fall. There are lands already under our power, rich with unharvested resources, rather than scheming for war, we should develop those lands. Develop new orders of knights, new towns, and new cities.”

Silence falls over the table, the crackling fireplace all that speaks, but the silence is not heavy as much as surprised and thoughtful. The young spawn of the noble class, look deep into their cups as if to divine the future from the sight.

“You go too far,” A young man says, sitting up and shaking his head. “It’s as if you wish to build your own kingdom.”

“It would not be mine, and I have no want to build it,” I reply, jerking a few heads up as they try to understand what it is that I want from proposing something so severe if it is not for power over it all.

“Do you not feel confined in this decaying place?” Pansy asks the boy and others who have stayed silent. “There is naught wrong with ambitions such as these.

“Our peers are all desperately clinging to the throne for protection, afraid to venture from the safety of the walls. It’s the reason our kingdom is in decay. The Grand Dukes did not build their cities this way. They ventured out and built something for themselves, and the king was only grateful for their efforts.”

“You want to build a new duchy?” A young woman asks, her eyes widening just a touch.

“Any noble with healthy ambition should want as much,” Pansy all but spits. I nod alongside her, but it is mostly for show.

Even if there is a hint of wisdom in her words, it is drowned by the utter ignorance she has of her true position in society. The noble class, here as we are, are not leaders. The only power we have is in the knights that we order about, and in the influence granted to us by those even stronger.

It is a joke.

Semi once spoke of us as dragons, but we aren’t. Not anyone here, at the very least. I do not know what we are, but we do not deserve so much respect. These schemes are all built upon assumptions of power that we do not truly wield.

What they have is the coin that I intend to take from them, and little more than that.

“Enough of heavy things,” Pansy says, as I wonder just what it would look like to bleed the confidence from her expression. Not even violently, just to have her see her true place in this world and let that settle deep into her psyche. “Christina, did you want to come look over my menagerie? I assure you that I have several species here that you’ve never before seen.”

“It’s not my area of interest so I’m not sure that I could properly appreciate it, but if you have something to show then I’m willing to be impressed,” I say, imagining how I might twist this scene into something more tortured.

How I might strip them of all dignity, and have them all see themselves in a more honest light before taking their lives. Such would be a perfect torture for these ignorant young fools.

“Oh, none of that now,” Pansy shakes her head at me, with a warm smile as if chiding a friend for holding back her honest feelings. “While you are never improper about it, I’ve seen that you have an interest in the slaves brought to court.

“Who wouldn’t? They’re so nearly like us in so many ways but twisted into something so entirely wrong. Then, to train them to act like people, it is… Is there a good term for it? A living contradiction, perhaps. It’s what makes them so endearing.”

Her eyes shine bright as she speaks her passion, feeling no need to disguise it. Her openness is a measure tactically employed to invite my own, it is without intent for harm. The opposite, honest connections ought to make for better alliances, but it is just too much a shame that she’s chosen to go on about this topic in particular.

Just a few months ago, I’m sure that I’d have been enthralled by her passion and drawn into her unsettling hobbies.

Back then I thought that my own family’s slaves were mindless beasts that must be tamed, raised even, to become people. Two false premises tied together. They were always like us, and taming them was never to help them. It was for our own wants and ends.

I open my mouth considering what words might show her the light of reason and teach her that things are not as she has been taught, but the persuasive speech dies somewhere between my mind and mouth. Unlike myself, she’s not ignorant from lack of experience, she’s somehow maintained that ignorance while keeping and ‘taming’ slaves.

Further, what might be gained from succeeding?

I would risk alienating her, and losing her assistance, for the mere hope that she would treat her slaves more kindly. I am not some commoner that can act for only their own interest. Especially in this instance, my goals are more important than my feelings, both my disgust and my hunger must be suppressed.

“I do have a passing interest,” I finally say, meeting her gaze and softening my expression. A hobby shared creates bonds of trust, and her influence could secure me needed funds. “I cannot say that I know much about it, however, so you’ll have to forgive me for not knowing how to even discuss the topic.”

“That’s quite alright,” Pansy replies. “Even before the recent mess, you were locked away in that home and it must have been terrible.”

“It was certainly trouble at times,” I admit, letting my true thoughts out. “After my mother’s death, father and stepmother never much let me leave the estate—Shialla bless their lost souls.”

“Blessings and curses often come entwined,” Pansy responds in the sombre air that has taken the table. “I would not wish to bring the issue up, but given just how desperate things may turn if we are not careful, I wish to know, are we safe?”

No.

“From what?” I ask instead.

“Rumour says that it was Aldramodore that was responsible for what happened to your family, and rightfully so for having broken the treaty that the king himself prepared. If that is true, then there would be no risk of us following in their fates, but if there were other reasons for their unfortunate demise…?”

“Aldramodore hasn’t spoken plainly on his motives,” I admit, shaking my head. “I’m not sure that I could retain composure in that conversation. Yet, what I do know is his will and mine are for now not contradicting. He too wants to expand the kingdom’s influence into those untamed lands.”

He wishes to seek unfound æther wells, something that I am to help him with, though I know not why he seeks them.

“That is good,” Pansy replies “I think it would be good for us all to avoid the pro-war factions and families, regardless. They will only bring us more trouble.”

Our mindless peers mirror her thoughts as if they are mere dolls dancing on strings. The conversations soon become rather banal as each of them measures one another in some competition that does not interest me.

A couple of young men stand apart, whispering between themselves, they make the motions of love in public affections. They share whispers and touch arms while leaning close, even sharing biscuits. To anyone else, I’m sure that they seem sincere. My senses tuned carefully for negative emotions that might flavour the blood, capture the torment that each is suffering as they pretend to enjoy themselves.

It is quite a sweet scene as they torture themselves, I needn’t even lift a finger myself. Added torment comes from a pair of others watching the pair with raging jealousy and barely disguised pain. What senseless drama is involved, I do not know, but never before has drama seemed so interesting.

“A dead branch marriage between important families,” Pansy whispers in my ear, looking at the pair of young men. “It has become more common of late, a thing intended to keep us from having lineages of our own, such that our fine siblings will not need to share their inheritance. We will change that.”

“They seem happy,” I say, conflicted in my enjoyment of their suffering. My own situation was not so different, making it a little more challenging to truly enjoy the scene.

“Then let them, but do not force the same onto those of us with true ambitions,” she says. “Come, let them speak freely without us.”

She stands, holding out a hand for me, intending to lead me away.

“Is there something you wish to discuss?” I ask, following her through the halls of her home. Though the room is fine, I do still prefer parties in the light of day and surrounded by gardens. The familiar burn of the sun is comforting in a strange way.

“We must act fast,” she says away from the others. “Have you heard of what the Redmist family has been up to? They have no patience, and they’re going further than any others to incite this war.”

“I’m ashamed to admit that I do not know what you’re speaking of,” I reply hesitantly.

“They’ve been capturing new Norkit slaves,” she says. “With no subtlety either. If they are not stopped… No, there is nothing that we can do for it but object, yet if there is war then we cannot risk investing in your plans. We’ll be forced to fight in a war that is sure to further stain our dignity.”

These ‘nobles’ are capturing their own people and forcing them into chains.

There is no further proof of indignity than that. Such actions are those of bandits, and this cannot be let continue, especially if it makes the others hesitate to invest in my project. It takes time for merchants to move, and people are starving now.

We step from the house into a wide yard, hidden by a garden is a sizeable barn, filled with the sounds of conversations. I stop us short before we get to the doors.

“Pansy, if a tragedy could be arranged for the Redmists, would you feel confident in investing in my endeavours? I will need the funding directly to hasten my plans and seize this limited opportunity that comes from the people fleeing from this city. So, I must know quickly if you want the title that I can offer you.”

“Tragedy?” She asks, her eyes shining. “Could you truly arrange for that?”

“Pansy, you may be an important child of your family, but I am a Countess. I will not abide by this disrespect to the kingdom, to the people, or to my own name. They will be dealt with. My question is whether or not I have your support?”

 

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