“Order! All rise for His Majesty, King Reginald!”

  At ohe chamber’s chatter ceased, yet not all those present stood and those that did gave no mind to the oill seated. It was an intimate affair of the twenty-one members of the King’s cil. While invitations were nominally at the King’s request, the cil rather reflected the state of the kingdom and its politig.

  The Kiered at a leisurely pace, his son a step behind, what retaihat had followed them now waiting ohreshold of the room as the grand doors closed. Although not a vast room, it was more than enough for those present, the Kied at one end of the hall with the cillors arranged along curved behose seats farther back raised—as if a theatre and the King atop the stage.

  At present, only a quarter of the seats were filled, the room ready to handle such crowds as when war loomed or another such crises. Some kings enjoyed an even smaller cil, but, in this matter, Julia knew King Reginald to be a petent ruler, her exceptional nor fumbling.

  Once Reginald reached his seat and sat down, another sh out from the front row. “All hail!”

  “Hail to His Majesty, long may he reign!” A half-hearted and disjointed chorus, yet it rang out all the same, followed by those that stood taking their seats.

  So that only two now stood in the room: Julia and Prince Hector.

  She had not moved from her pce before the throne, in front of all the benches, her head bowed and hands crossed as they rested below her stomach, maintaining due etiquette.

  “First order, the tess of Augstadt, Lady Augstadt, petitions His Majesty.”

  The words echoed in the hall before settling into silence. She made no movement at all, holding herself, waiting.

  Reginald raised a hand, his deep voice rumbling through the room as he said, “We reise Lady Augstadt.”

  She took a step forward, raising her head. “Your Royal Highness,” she said, holding a curtsey.

  Another long moment passed before he said, “Pray tell, etition does My Lady bring?”

  She finally ended her curtsey, resuming her previous posture, but meeting the King’s gaze. After a few deeper breaths, she said, “This matter s the ret… passing of Lr. It is known he kept in his employ a band of meraries; however, when they learhey were no loo be paid, they stormed the castle and have taken some manner of trol over the Gr barony.”

  Murmurs broke out at the news and, again, there ause before the King spoke. “What relevance is this matter to the cil? Is the Gr barony not now the responsibility of My Lady?”

  “That is, I would deal with this matter if I was able. My father passed so long ago, I fear the Augstadt militia is her capable of taking on professional soldiers nor willing to follow my authority if I bade them,” she said, her gaze l even as her voice remained level.

  “My Lady wishes for aid, then?” he asked.

  She shook her head. “Is the occupation of our nd by a fn power not a matter for the King, or does Sir ihe merary band’s leader as the rightful Lr?”

  Whispers broke out at her question, noisy how they echoed, yet never clear enough for any but the recipient to hear. However, a moment did not have time to pass.

  “Here here, why does My Lady bring this matter to the cil?” the Prince asked, stepping forward. “She is capable enough to steal her neighbour’s nd, then asks us to enforce her ownership? Have some humility!”

  “Sir is acg me of stealing?” she asked, her voice louder, tinged with ire.

  He she sound clear in the quiet hall. “It is quite the ce he passed so soon after your return.”

  “If we are talking ces, is it not more so for Prince Hector? I had no say in my return and I had no knowledge that I would i his estate. That is, if not for his will, would the nd not return to Prince Hector, Duke of Swabia?”

  A cp rang out, the King thumping his armrest. “Enough,” he said, her loud nor quiet, voice reag every er of the room. After a moment, he gestured for Hector to step back, then turned his gaze upon her. “Pray tell, is My Lady acg my son of murder?”

  She her flinched nor bowed, iaking aep forward. “Sir, what standing has Prince Hector to speak, let alone accuse me of stealing and murder? I ask for a vote.”

  She went to turn around, but Reginald raised a hand, staying her. “There is no need. My Lady is correct, this matter has e around from my negligence. We shall treat it as nothing has been said.”

  “Sir, with all due respect, I ot treat the Prince’s word as something so easily fotten. I ask for a vote.”

  She did not go to turn around this time, meeting the King’s stare—as if daring him to try and stop her again.

  “The matter of the te Lr is a tragedy and nothing more. There is no reason to suspect foul py from either My Lady or anyone else. Oter of the iance, while unusual, it has been wfully executed without any suspis doing.”

  Silen the hall, she did not look away. “I ask for a vote.”

  From the front row, a voice called out, saying, “A vote has been called. etition does My Lady bring to vote?”

  “Unruly forces occupy our nd and our king has yet to mobilise a force to uhem. One asks of His Majesty, pray give one leadership and one shall lead the assault. It is one’s duty and obligation to protect her nd. One is knowledgeable about the terrain of the nd and the yout of the castle. One is willing and able.”

  Before she even had time to take a deep breath, having spent it all on her prepared speech, the same voice called out again. “The petition has been heard. All those who wish to debate the petition—”

  He paused there, a few uhusiastic voices saying, “Aye.”

  “All those who wish t the petition to vote—”

  More shouts of, “Aye,” this time, but still a muted affair.

  “To vote, then. All those in favour of the petition—”

  A half-hearted chorus of agreement rang out.

  “Those against the petition—”

  A lone voice called out, “Nay.”

  “The cil votes in agreement with the petition and urges His Majesty to accept the petition in full, so be it.”

  Reginald zily raised a hand in aowledgement. “The King hears the cil’s opinion, so be it.”

  She curtseyed, first for him, then for the cil, saying nothing. With her role in this py over, she dutifully left through the side-door to where the other petitioners waited, albeit none of her standing. Still, they were not mere peasaher to be vouched for. Merts, in-ws of this with some sway, old favours called in. Of course, guards were posted around the room, fnking both doorways, and one never knew if they craved boredom or a break from the boredom.

  Regardless of how the guards felt, she sat with a dignity few could match. It was not as simple as posture nor lessons. The ability to be in trol of oo such a degree was rare, her mind clear, heart at peace, and from that flowed a calm which settled any nerves, so still those who watched might think her made of stohat is, if not for the crity in her eyes.

  Hours ter, long after the other petitioners had pleaded their cases a, she remained, waiting.

  “Julia, my dear, what did I tell you?”

  The stone came to life, her mouth blooming into a warm smile as she turo the voice, going from sitting to curtseying in a siion. “Marquess of Bavaria—”

  “Please, the Marquess of Bavaria is my son, I am merely Mr Isarau,” the old man said, his broad smile hiding among the wrinkles c his face.

  She covered her mouth as a titter leaked out. “Mr Isarau, my thanks for the vouch,” she said.

  “What vouch this old man give? A tess has no need for such to speak to the King,” he said, waving her off.

  “Still, please have my deepest thanks,” she said, curtseying once more.

  He said nothing of it this time, but began to walk aured for her to follow. The guards, while at all other times relut to move for the petitioners, parted before the old man without a woing so far as to open the door before he reached it—and holding it open until she had passed through too.

  The halls of the Royal Pace had ahetic of their own, marble blended with fine rugs, apanied by touches of grahe likes of paintings and busts. pared to that, the capitol had a fgrant austerity. Of course, few khe opulence of the Royal Pace like she did, and few khat these empty halls still had floors made of fine hardwood, walls made of sturdy granite.

  Isarau led the way to the gardens at the back, an area of unusual freshness amongst the capital’s haze. Broader than a theatre, some idled around in pairs or small groups, cigars in hand, adding to the smog, yet there was still plenty of room for more to have a moment of privacy out in the open, the bushes and trees tale keepis.

  He chose the fountain’s pany, taking a seat on the bench by it. She g the water before sitting, seeing the floating remains of half-smoked cigars and bits of phlegm or unk.

  “I did not mess up, did I?” she softly asked, voice barely above the sound of trig water.

  “Mm, you did well enough. It may sound like the cil has little i in whatever petition goes on; however, ohe doors are closed, it bee quite lively,” he said, pausing to chuckle. “Your trick rather reminds me of your father.”

  “My trick?” she asked.

  His hand shakily tapped on his khat is, your father had intimately uood the tensioween the King and the peers. The more he provoked the King, the more any a the King took against him would be perceived as tyranny.

  “Well, that matter is ohing, what I speak of… it would have been a few years into King Reginald’s reign, a year or so after yrandfather passed? Augstadt wasn’t quite the bustling city back then. Your father brought forward a petition to depose the mayor on charges of corruption, which would not have been a matter for the King if not for how your father manoeuvred the matter into one of fn collusion. I believe he even personally led the force that took in the mayor….”

  She listened with a soft smile, then waited a moment after he had fio make sure there wasn’t more still to e. “That does sound like my father. However, to call it a trick….”

  “o pay attention to this old man. He has seen all kinds of things in his years and tends to look upon the world with a certain icism,” he said, his words belied by his cheery tone. “Whatever you wish to call it, you did it well. As long as one is pure in one’s duct, one would do well to position oneself opposite the King—so long as one doesn’t show one’s back to one’s peers.”

  C her mouth again, she giggled. “It is a good thing, then, that Mr Isarau is no longer my peer.”

  “Perhaps, perhaps not,” he said.

  Her humour slowly faded as the two sat in silence. Eventually, she asked, “The Marquess, is he a good man?”

  “If he was, I would not have him as my heir,” he said, this time his joking tone belied by his ral expression.

  “One has to wonder why Mr Isarau would help,” she whispered.

  He leant ba the bench, gaze turning to the murky sky littered with unnatural clouds. “The war brought many of our peers responsibilities they were ill-suited to hold, and it is soon approag such a time that those who will bear such responsibilities know not the taste of war,” he murmured.

  “I assure, sir, I may not know the taste, but I have seen the shadows and heard the echoes.”

  A smile tugged at the ers of his mouth. “I fear, when all is said and done, I will be remembered by my deeds.”

  “One would usually be gd for such a thing,” she said.

  “Of the two of us, only one knows the true extent of what I have done, and it is not My Lady.”

  Silence followed but for the fountain sputtering as it struggled to pump, choking on litter. Eventually, she asked, “Did sir ever meet my mother?”

  “On a few occasions,” he said. After a moment, he let out a bark of ughter, wiping the er of his eye. “Oh how she detested me. Her exact words escape me at this time; however, I do remember she had promised to ruihing I hold dear. As, I hadn’t the heart at the time to fess to her I had already dohat with my own two hands.”

  She offered a chuckle. “That does sound like my mother,” she said.

  “It truly is a shame. I had hoped to see what she had pnned… and what it did to your father,” he paused to sigh. “He had a remarkable insight into politics. However, after the i, he had lost that spark of greatness, being someone so afraid of everything and everyohat he would evehe ko His Royal Highness.”

  “He always spoke so fondly of my mother,” she whispered.

  Isarau ughed, giving his krio of sps. “My dear, it is not that he was heartbroken, but that he had something so very precious to proted feared he cked the strength to do so.”

  She stilled, the soft smile she held a moment ago now twinging. “Is that so?”

  “If not as a family friend, take my word as a parent that, above all treasures, are our beloved desdants. Of course, there are those who see heirs as tools or pawns, some that have a price for anything and everything. However, your father was not such a man. I would know, one of many who offered the kind of price a reasonable man could not refuse.”

  “You are the sed to make mention of marryio the family,” she said lightly, unsure if her voice would manage any louder.

  Chug, he put his haher side of himself and eased up to his feet. “Your father had the feeling of someone useful to call a friend. I ot put it into words aer than that. Of course, one ot be everyone’s friend, yet I would be hard-pressed to think of someone who would call him an enemy.”

  She listehen stood up too. “Mr Isarau, as my thanks, would you like to hear what I think my mother would have done?”

  “Holy, I quite prefer taking the mystery to the grave. That said, I am most curious what you think, so please, it would be my honour.”

  After giving him a smile, she turo face the fountain. “I believe she would have dohing. Rather, that her threat alone was enough to deter you from further misdeeds, not to mention ence you to maintain a good retionship with my father.”

  He nodded along, theled into a smile. “Indeed, I would not have regretted such a granddaughter,” he said lightly, the out a sigh. “As, I think you uimate your mother. It was not my impression that she hands out such empty threats.”

  With that, he walked away, leaving her by the fountain. She watched him go, holding a gentle smile.

  “We agree on that.”