Chapter 14: Duchesses, Decorum & Deception (Part 2)
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This is a two-part like Chapter 10, make sure to read Part 1 first if you have accidentally clicked here!

Knowing we'd have to wait for the Duchess to arrive, we'd taken the chance to quietly rest and recover. Despite the slovenly manner in which we'd allowed ourselves to slouch into the receiving room's couches, we couldn't allow ourselves get too comfy. Ready to stand and straighten ourselves at a moments notice, we listened for any sounds in the hallway beyond.

Too tired to talk, Roxi and I had sprawled out on the same couch, our arms and legs overlapping as we leaned in on each other.

After almost a long half hour, the faint sound of a raised voice grew closer and louder until we could make out what it was saying, "I don't care what he says. Off with their heads! I don't want to see any of those spineless bottom feeders unless someone has removed the heads first!"

Oh no. 

Oh no.

The door slammed open with a bang and we shot to our feet as a woman in a royal blue dress stormed in. “Make sure that you do pass that onto the kitchen staff,” she instructed, then dismissing the attendant before he had a chance to announce her. 

The moment the door closed again, with a display entirely lacking in noble decorum, she collapsed into one of the armchairs as if she were a puppet who’d had its strings cut. “At ease,” she sighed, gesturing at us to return to our seats.

“My most humble apologies,” said the lady in a tone lacking in sincereness, “you gather the best advisors and ministers in the land to help serve your subjects and still the act of governing is no less exhausting.”

Wow…

This is the Duchess right? Or had another lady wandered in? Ok, so it was probably her, but this was a huge break from the image of a dignified noble lady. 

I understand though, the job sounds pretty stressful even without considering the ongoing civil war. Stress can kill, please look after yourself lady!

“Ellie, you’ve finally returned,” she smiled as some of the tension seemed to lift from her face. “I hope your expedition went well, my steward briefed me that you had news and that you brought company.”

With the word company, her focus switched from El onto us. 

Then like Mr Hyde switching back to Dr Jekyll, her posture straightened and her tone shifted to that of a gracious host, “Miss Aisling Mistmirror, it is a pleasure to see one of our neighbours from the Isle of Mists here, and Miss Roxadice Umbrial, Ruin’s Blessings be upon you Priestess. It is an honor to meet you both; I am the Duchess of this war torn land and the master of this city, Cerys Blaiddcalon. I hope one day we may come to be on a first name basis.”

As we sat in stunned silence, El rising to the occasion and came to our rescue, “Umm… Yeah… I’m sure they are grateful for both your hospitality and offer of friendship, Care. But uh, you really need to be more careful with dropping your mask around strangers like that, it’s kind of a shock to the system seeing you switch.” 

Care?

Blushing slightly behind a raised hand, the Duchess gave an embarrassed cough. “I may have forgotten you had brought guests,” she mumbled barely audibly.  

“Thank you for the hospitality,” I said jumping into the conversation to rescue her. “It has been a hard journey from Spot and we’ve had little chance to rest, sleep or any other comforts. This is a lot,” I continued, gesturing to the crumbs and remains of the snacks and refreshments we’d been left with.

“It is nothing,” the Duchess demurred, before rounding on El. “The attendant said you had information to report?” 

“You already know what my plans were from before I left, your Grace, so I think it is best if we let my companions go first, starting with how they left Spot,” El replied, throwing us back into the spotlight as they kicked their feet up to rest on the small table. 

That earned them a quick look of disgust from the Duchess before she fixed us a look that said an attitude filled ‘So?’. 

Well interrogations aren’t fun, even if you haven’t done anything wrong and the person interrogating you knows that. The irritating and exhausting problem with being interrogated is you’re trying to tell a story and your audience keeps interrupting asking you to repeat parts, demanding you recall vague details that anyone would struggle to remember and trying to trick you into contradicting yourself.

Ok, maybe she wasn’t sure we’d done nothing wrong.

We told her our entire story. 

The night we fought the bandits, the following morning where we got the fateful quest to deliver the package, our run-in with the basiphusises, our near arrest and escape from Fort Brightspring and ending with the package’s roadside revelations.

Then it was El’s turn. The Duchess already knew the how and why of their infiltration of Fort Brightspring, so the spy had a lot less to address. Numbers of soldiers marshalling at the Fort, what forces and units were present, supplies and the general readiness of the army there. 

Following that was just El corroborating the parts of our story from just before we met them and finally a summary of the notes and orders in the package as the Duchess flickered through the various papers, growing more and more irate.

Ever watched a kettle boil? 

At the start it's silent. You aren’t even sure anything is happening, but rest assured inside the water is getting hotter and the pressure is starting to slowly increase. Then the kettle starts shaking ever so slightly, the water starting to bubble as dissolved gases escape and after a while the shaking increases as the energy building in the water causes it to more violently bubble. Then the water reaches its boiling point as individual water molecules gain the energy needed to resist the attraction of their peers, entering a gaseous state and turning to steam which causes the kettle to hiss and scream from its escape.

Watching anger slowly building in someone is somewhat similar. At first they’re silent, then their brow might furrow, their jaw might clench and their eyes might narrow. Then as it escalates, their face may flush, their grip tighten until their knuckles turn white and facial muscles might twitch. 

Already these warning signs might be enough for you to try and deescalate the situation or get the hell out.

They might begin to shake with anger, their face turning an even darker red as more blood rushes to it, veins become visible and start to throb and then they finally snap. Snapping, they might almost whisper, cold rage and malice replacing volume, or they might start screaming and yelling like that kettle boiling.

I’m saying this because none of us were surprised when she finally erupted. All the signs had been there.

I might have cowered a little though and I might not have been the only one. Roxi was again gripping my hand, pretty hard too. 

For a few terrifying minutes she yelled, screamed, ranted and raved, until she finally ran out of steam and collapsed back into her armchair with a huff. 

A few silent moments later, an aftershock of her eruption hit.

“Arvel, that thrice damned turncoat! My husband and I took that bastard third son into our Court, supported him and helped his rise to the rank of Chief Diplomat and this is how he repays us? If he’d stayed with his family he would have never amounted to anything more than a landless hedge knight or some middling priest in the clergy. Yet he betrays me for his half brother the Baron Thurnscoe and has become Baron Redwood’s man within my Court,” she glowered.

“I’ll let him think he got away with this and have his every move watched, every word reported and once he has exposed enough of his allies, I’ll nail him and them to the wall!” she spat vehemently.

In the aftermath of her tirade the room had become deathly silent, so silent it felt that if any noise broke that silence the storm’s fury would return.

Suddenly, the Duchess’ hand shot towards the table, snagged a goblet of wine and upended it into her mouth in one go. “Sorry… I lost my composure there for a minute…“

“It’s alright,” Roxi offered bravely, her voice slightly higher than normal.

Nodding to herself, the Duchess began to softly speak. “Best I look on the bright side,” she said, almost as much to herself as to us, “These documents you have brought here should be enough to nullify any threats from within these walls and have given me warning enough of the coming attack to prepare to make fast this valley and defend against it. You may have very well saved the city of Santarriral, its people, my child and myself.”

Looking at us, she gave a grateful smile, “Thank you.”  

Several cautious iterations of “You’re welcome”  were murmured in reply. I mean it would be rude not to, especially considering this is a noble and they’re thanking us. A noble that is kinda scary when she is angry.

I just hope this is not going to be one of those, ‘Thank you is reward enough’ situations. 

I don’t know if she read my mind or I was wearing that thought on my face, but chuckling she explained, “Don’t worry, you will all get your rewards, I promise. I will personally see it tomorrow after we have all rested. Now if I can, I would have a few moments longer with you all to discuss other matters.”

Announcement
Thank you for reading! Hope you enjoyed the chapter! Please leave comments/reviews as they fill us writers with joy! Happy writers write more!

Illegal Alien is a canon story in QuietValerie's Troubleverse setting. Make sure you read Quietvalerie's Trouble with Horns, her second Troubleverse story Witch of Chains and ChiriChiriChiri's Troubleverse story Snowbound.

The Troubleverse & Kammiverse have their own discord where you can talk to other readers and the various authors including myself and QuietValerie.

Make sure to check out the Kammiverse my gf Quietvalerie's and I's other shared universe in Kammi Kettu , Falling Over and my Songbird – a Kammi Kettu story 

Oh and while I have you here, please give Kathryn's Birthrights and RainRaith's The Odyssey of Our Lives (external link) a read! They are both great trans stories!

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