Chapter 73

Chateau de Cascasonne

 

Eastern Mansion

The cold breeze around dawn awoke Cecile from slumber. She tried to rub her eyes but felt that it was prickly to the touch. That didn’t slow her down from her morning routine. She rose from her bed and approached the wooden table and basin, where she carefully washed her face with cold water.

Her roommates had awakened and lit another rushlight to illuminate their room. They took turns washing their faces and slowly changed into their work clothes.

The two were donning their brown-grayish russet robe and white head kerchief. Another was wearing a doublet with a belt and sword on her waist.

“Cecile, are you alright?” the one with the doublet asked.

“I’m fine, Carla. Just a bit sleepy, that’s all,” Cecile answered while finishing up with her attire.

“I see... Well then, please take care. Let us know if you need anything.” Carla and two other girls left the room.

Cecile breathed deeply and prepared her mind for the day.

Today marked the tenth day after the war. A lot had happened during these past nine days. The biggest shock was the launch of a new campaign against Korimor. At least two hundred men, half from Korelia, and half from White Lake, participated.

The Korelians had never expected to even win the siege, so it was a surprising development. For this campaign, they only picked those who were able to ride or, at the very least, stay in the saddle without falling.

Cecile heard that the nomads provided the horses and the horse guides, who could be a boy as little as twelve years old. Each rider was provided with four or five horses as spares.

After the departure of the troops, the Lord himself continued to be in intense discussion with Lord Jorge about the future of their new alliances. It became the talk of the town, how the Lord would spearhead a new hegemony in Lowlandia.

Messengers were also active. Many had been sent out bearing letters from the Lord of Korelia.

Cecile also heard about Sir Arius’ hasty departure from Korelia on an errand, likely at Lord Lansius’ behest.

Another recent development involved the rapid construction of a camp and a field kitchen to accommodate the 1,000 captured Coalition men. Under the guidance of Lord Lansius himself, dozens of yurts were erected, along with simple mud hovels, around a stone quarry.

Within the quarry, the old mine shaft was repaired, and general maintenance carried out by Korelia's newly-formed Building Bureau, the Korelia Mason Guild. The architect behind the guild was none other than Lord Lansius himself. The guild served as an outlet for captured nobles who had education or experience in construction.

As it turned out, many nobles, including some Nicopolan, volunteered in exchange for a reduction in their ransom. The arrangement proved beneficial for both parties. Lord Lansius gained access to experienced talents, thereby reducing the time and resources required for various construction projects.

Meanwhile, the captured nobles found a sense of purpose, making them less likely to rebel.

With the new alliance being the talk of the town, even inside the billets, there was gradual acceptance from the captured nobles. Many had already sought forgiveness, begged for leniency, or expressed willingness to switch sides.

As for Cecile herself, the most personal change was the absence of her co-worker, Sterling. The squire had gone with Lady Hannei to Midlandia to recuperate.

Sigh...

Cecile recalled when Claire admitted to her that Sterling had asked for her hand in marriage. Cecile was shocked but reluctantly agreed, as she could see it was not an irresponsible match since Sterling was on his way to becoming a knight.

However, as fate would have it, soon after, they were separated for good or ill.

The younger sister now stayed at Cecile’s quarters in the castle. Their estate was left running with the family’s old helper at the helm.

While taking a new cloth to wipe the goblet, Cecile noticed the grey hooded robe that she had cleaned, dried, and folded. She tucked it away at the bottom of her wooden chest, wishing never to wear it again.

Two days ago, the mourning period had ended, and all the relevant castle staff, servants, and guardsmen had moved to Eastern Mansion to follow the Lord. A semblance of normalcy followed after such a great war.

As for Cecile, Lord Lansius had given her a full month to mourn due to her circumstances, but she returned to work two days ago. The work kept her mind at ease, just as she had expected.

With her gear prepped and ready, she closed the door and headed to the cellar. Halfway there, Margo waited with another servant.

Together, they descended the flight of stairs and reached the mansion’s cellar. The place was wide, but there were only several wooden barrels inside.

As the cup-bearer, Cecile took a sip from a barrel and checked whether the drink had deteriorated or tasted different. This part of the job was easy. Only rarely did she ever find a rancid or questionable taste.

The hard part was to safeguard the drinks for the Lord at all times. She filled a jug of ale and a flaskful of wine. The flask was then kept in her shoulder bag along with a silver goblet. Meanwhile, the jug needed to be hand-carried because of the size.

For safety, the rule stated that the Lord would only drink ale or wine from the cup-bearer. This was obviously to avoid poison, as it was hard to detect when mixed with liquor or alcohol. Throughout the day, a cup-bearer also monitored his/ her health. If they suddenly felt sick or dizzy, then a poison expert would be summoned.

“Same as yesterday?” Margo asked with his patchy voice, a mark of adolescence. Yet, the boy still resembled a lass more than a lad.

“Yes, Margo, let’s keep these two for the Lord and guests. The other two should go for the rest,” she instructed.

Margo and the servant filled their earthen jugs as directed by Cecile. After finishing with that, they locked the cellar and went their separate ways.

Cecile would wait for the lord to wake up. As the cup-bearer, she was also the lord’s unofficial secretary. Almost all morning correspondence was done through her. Along with the drink, she was to entertain the lord with news, gossip, or other tidings in the realm.

This part of the job made the position powerful because she became privy to the lord’s ears. Cecile could select what news and in what light they should be presented.

In relation to this, usually, some staff were relaying information to her. But even today, there was only one. It seemed that everybody was giving her time to mourn. However, it only made it harder. Without anything to focus on, the heart-wrenching pain returned as she sat idle.

Cecile was now orphaned and must assume the position of the head of her House. The thought made her unwell. Not only was she shouldering her little sister Claire and the estate, but also her own fate. Now, a marriage was looming, something she dreaded as it would take her away from her family.

After Lord Lansius’ victory, more suitors sent letters to Cecile. Without an uncle or older relative, it was awkward for her to handle her own marriage proposal. It wasn’t the custom, but she felt fortunate. With her on the helm, nobody could dictate or force her into marriage.

As a knight’s daughter, estate owner, and cup-bearer of a powerful Lord, Cecile was currently the most desirable partner in Korelia. However, she felt that none of the suitors fit her situation.

Most suitors were second sons who didn’t inherit anything. They aimed to wed Cecile to be financially independent. The ones with land were usually from far away, meaning she would need to move out, leaving her roots behind.

She didn’t wish to leave her sister and abandon her father’s estate that they had worked so hard.

Her only solace was a certain proposal brokered by Lady Felis: a marriage proposal on behalf of Master Calub. The man had shown affection and seemed to indicate the seriousness of his proposal.

Cecile sat still, but blood rushed to her cheeks when she remembered the way Calub had hugged her during the funeral, despite her unsightly appearance and the noise from crying her heart out.

Customs dictated that it was proper for only parents and siblings to hug each other in public. So, it was a great show of affection in public.

With a mixed feeling, she exhaled deeply.

Calub had informed her about her father’s last wish. She had thought deeply about it. To think that even on his dying breath, her father was worried about her, broke her heart. Suddenly, her vision blurred.

She hurriedly wiped her tears with a piece of cloth. Nobody should see her like this again.

Cecile looked at the ceiling and tried to arrange her thoughts. Even from the start, the proposal started by her father was as good as being served on a silver platter. Calub was easily one of the most educated and courteous men in Korelia. He was also high in the Lord’s hierarchy despite not being highborn.

What was more surprising was his request to marry into Cecile’s family. Not the other way around.

Instead of using her father’s words as a pretext, Calub had chosen to formally propose, with no less than Lady Felis backing him.

The alchemist even stated that he didn’t mind the status as a male consort. He forfeited his rights to become the head of the household or to co-own the estate.

Cecile knew that no nobleman, not even a lesser one, would do this. Refusing the estate was refusing the income.

Thus, Calub’s stance alleviated Cecile’s biggest fear that her future husband would force her to split the income. Her estate wasn’t rich enough that she could split the income and survive, especially when she needed to look after Claire.

What Calub had offered was such a gentlemanly act that naturally Cecile fell head over heels for him.

Moreover, unlike with other suitors, she had known Calub on a personal level. Both were Lansius’ trusted confidantes and had watched each other’s backs and cared for each other’s well-being.

A gust of air pulled Cecile back from her thoughts. A servant was opening the windows to let in more air. The sun shone through and the corridor was getting warmer. Cecile rose from her seat and walked toward the lord’s chamber.

After a flight of stairs, she passed two guards who nodded to acknowledge her.

Cecile nodded back to the guards and stopped in front of a sturdy door. She exhaled to clear her head and knocked on the door softly. All the staff knew the lord had trouble sleeping and would let him sleep longer.

Carefully, Cecile peeked through the gap in the door and saw the lord was still sleeping peacefully. She smiled and closed the door back.

 

***

 

Chateau de Cascasonne

Midlandia faced the summer with relative ease. There was no drought, and the farmlands were growing to their full potential. Everywhere in cities and towns, there was work or building to be done.

The Chateau de Cascasonne also received its annual maintenance during this time. Its curtain walls and towers were being cleaned of vine-climbing plants, and its vast gardens were cleared of unwanted shrubs and grasses.

These plants were a threat to the stone structure and also a fire hazard as they dried in the summer sun.

Inside the chateau, it was a world apart from the outside. Not just in the lavish decoration and furniture, the inner part of the chateau was also kept cool either by mages or magic items, shielding the occupants from the summer heat.

Lord Bengrieve, the master of the chateau, had just returned after enjoying a morning ride through the woodlands. Aided by his pages and squires, he cleaned himself up and donned a comfortable black silk robe that draped over his toned physique before retreating to his study to work.

He was back to his old routine after having feigned an illness and retreated to his personal holdings. The Seneschal simply didn’t want to be bothered with the messy succession crisis.

Unlike other provinces, Midlandia was rather odd in that the holder of the title of Earl was actually a figurehead and shared much of his power with Bengrieve’s House. For generations, the House that controlled Cascasonne always became the Seneschal and held greater military, economic, and political power than the actual Lord.

Thus, despite the crisis, Bengrieve could stay away and still firmly hold power in Midlandia.

The master of the chateau faced the grand table and sat. The written reports were ready on the smooth elven wood surface. He glanced at the top one and read a report stating that Lord Arte had finished his business in the Capital and was returning to Midlandia. Joining him was a carriage of the Imperium’s officials and armed guards.

A waste of money.

The officials had been bribed to bestow peerage upon Lansius as a Baron. Bengrieve had used the peerage as a grand prize, dangling it in front of Lansius so he would try to defend Korelia. But as it turned out, Lansius’ position in Korelia had attracted too much attention.

Not even Bengrieve suspected that the Western Lowlandia Lords would be able to form a coalition against Lansius. It was an unexpected turn of events.

If it was only one Lord’s attack...

Against a Coalition of three, and with only one year of preparation, there was little that Lansius could do.

Despite losing money, Bengrieve wasn’t mad. To him, Lansius was a gamble, a curiosity to satisfy.

A general needed leadership, knowledge of strategy and tactics, and luck to win wars. Bengrieve was merely testing if Lansius had luck on his side, and based on the attack by the three Lords, he was found lacking.

Bengrieve shifted his attention to another parchment on the table. It was a list of people who sought an audience. More names were being added to the bottom of that list, but he didn’t feel like meeting any of them.

As a Seneschal, he didn’t hold court sessions, and as one on sick leave, he felt obliged to behave like one.

Despite not holding court sessions, there was no lack of people who sought an audience. They knew that Bengrieve held sway over Midlandia’s policy.

To prevent wounding these important guests’ pride without wasting his time, normally Bengrieve selected a few to entertain, but only at supper time. There, they would be preoccupied with the meal and strong ale, and he could distract them with music and dances.

However, with the succession issue in full swing, Bengrieve left the list as it was, signaling to his staff that he wished not to be bothered. He didn’t want to entertain anyone but his own cohort.

And one of his cohorts was standing haughtily in the center of the chamber, looking at the ancient golem.

“Can this thing really fight against monsters?” Sir Stan mused, looking at the blue-painted metallic giant.

Bengrieve disregarded his bastard cousin’s mutterings. Stan was often fascinated by the golem but never suggested anything about it. It was just his way of opening up a conversation after slipping through the door unannounced.

“What brings you here?” Bengrieve asked without looking up from his reading. He had one tome and several records to get through.

“My Lord, there are tidings from Lowlandia,” Stan reported smugly.

“You came this far just for that?” he asked, thinking it was about Lansius’ defeat and retreat.

Stan just shrugged, but his smile didn’t fade.

“So, where is Lady Audrey heading now? Orniteia or straight to Toruna?” asked Bengrieve.

The question only caused Stan to smile more widely, and he quipped, “So, the foreigner got you good too.”

The host paused from reading his tome and glanced at his rude guest. “What do you mean by that?”

“A lot. Enough to make your blood boil,” replied Stan.

“I doubt it.” Bengrieve pondered for a moment but concluded, “There’s no way Lansius is winning against the Western Lords Coalition.”

Sir Stan grinned and revealed, “He did. In just one day.”

Bengrieve slowly rose from his seat, placing his hands on his grand-looking elven wood table as if to brace himself. His face and lips gave nothing away, but his hands clenched into fists.

"Would you like details?" Stan taunted him.

"That can wait." Bengrieve pulled back the sleeve on his left wrist, revealing a plain-looking bracelet with three small colored gems. He momentarily touched one of the rectangular gems. At first, nothing happened, but then a squire opened the door and entered, his eyes looking downward.

"Get in touch with the Hunter Guild," Bengrieve ordered.

The squire bowed deeply and left the room. He didn’t need to ask which Hunter Guild representative to contact. Bengrieve only had business with the Assassins.

 

***