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An Unequal Share [A Dark, Progression Fantasy]
39. Among the Better Sort Chapter 10

39. Among the Better Sort Chapter 10

It took several days for the Marquise to receive a reply from her sister. Vero and Jean went back to the lodge where they had spent their happiest hours as they waited.

There was no telling how long they might have left together, so Vero was determined not to let a moment go to waste. They never left each other’s side from the moment they had arrived. Eventually, the Queen’s letter reached them, and they returned to the city for the final act of Vero’s plan.

Vero followed Jean, Mattie, and half a dozen of their knights into the apartment. The Earl of Kaer Longus stood up beside his bed and appeared distinctly unimpressed. The serving girl he was with cried out, threw a blanket over herself, and tried to flee the room. Vero directed one of the knights to grab her for later interrogation. The Guild did not hesitate to use prostitutes as their agents.

“I don’t suppose you would all like to wait outside a moment while I dress?” The Earl looked nonplussed.

“No.” Jean answered for them as a group.

“Well, there’s no need to stand there looking fierce. Sit down, my Lord.” The Earl made himself comfortable on the bed the girl had just vacated.

“You’re very glib, Conrad.”

“I presume you’re here to see my royal pardon in person. You only needed to send a servant to fetch me and I would have brought it to you.”

“You’re a coward, a kinslayer, an assassin- and you attempted to kill my mistress. If you have reason why I shouldn’t hang you, you would do better to be quicker about revealing it.”

The Earl smiled and held up a finger. “I’m noble born. You can try and behead me if you like, but you can’t hang me.”

“Poison is a coward’s weapon, and cowards die in disgrace.”

The Earl had clearly been expecting this interview, but despite his earlier bravado, it did not seem to be proceeding as he intended.

He was beginning to look unnerved. “I don’t know what you’re talking about. And I believe you lack the whole story. There will be no trial. No one would believe any testimony from a witch communing with a fell spirit anyway, and that’s all you’ve got. You’re within your rights to deny me any further hospitality. But eventually I will walk free from this estate, I guarantee it. I am a royal agent; my master will not allow any scandal regarding my sister to become public. I have his personal guarantee on that. I am but one link in a mighty chain. One that reaches right to the top.”

“The weak link as it happens.” Jean made a motion and his men confiscated the Earl’s sword, which lay with his discarded clothes. Another opened his chest and took the king’s golden seal from inside.

The Earl attempted to stop them from leaving with the seal, but Jean struck him across the face and pushed him back onto the bed.

The Earl looked utterly astounded that someone had hit him. “You have no right to treat me in this manner!”

The Marquise warmly pressed Vero’s hand, before slipping into the room and joining her husband. “I’ve spoken to my sister, and she was shocked to hear about the atrocious and evil way you dealt with your own family. She spoke with her husband who was equally disturbed. Your pardon has been revoked, and we have orders to return your royal seal to its master. Further, we have a royal imperative to begin a swift investigation into the unfortunate matter of your sister’s demise. It seems my husband already has some reliable intelligence as to who is responsible, so I expect the trial will be very swift indeed.”

“Lies! All lies! He promised me-”

The Marquise interrupted him softly, but the Earl was silent at once to listen. “Your promises were contingent on you not being caught. Now that we have the confession of your assassin – and the Guild records of your gold payment to them – you’ve become something of an embarrassment as a royal agent. And not, it seems, one the king wishes to defend before an Assembly of Notables.”

“The poisoner has already died of sepsis, so your execution for your sister’s murder will make calling such an assembly regarding your other crimes impossible.” Up to this point, Jean had spoken in his natural style – albeit more belligerent than usual – but this statement sounded somehow rehearsed to Vero. “My sister-in-law, and her royal husband, have agreed that this was the best way for all of us to resolve the matter.”

The Earl was too frightened by his circumstances to notice. He became pale and did not say anything else. Eventually he turned to face the corner.

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After seeing the Earl’s color change, Jean gave a bitterly ironic laugh. “It seems we’ve both learned how mistaken we were to give the King our confidence. Fortunately, my mistake was not fatal. My only regret is that you killed your sister with your own hands, so it seems you will be escaping the noose by the headsman’s axe. Regardless, I think the justice will still bring the poor restless soul some peace at last.”

To Vero, it sounded as though Jean had returned to speaking extemporaneously once again.

Jean and Vero rode out together. Spring seemed to have finally arrived, and bright flower buds everywhere were on the brink of opening at last. They ate a fine meal of salted meats, fresh apples, and assortments of breads, cheeses, and wines in a sunlit glen. Then they laid out on the grass together afterwards.

“You will be safe, won’t you?”

Jean laughed. “I should be asking you that question.”

“His majesty won’t forget this. Next time he may try and kill you more directly.”

“I’m sure he will. He only agreed to this stalemate because he believed it would leave us on the same ground we began on. I suppose that was the reason for his use of such a disposable puppet. Once the plan unraveled, he simply revoked the pardon and let the bastard lose his head. I’m sure it’s his intention to simply try again in the future. Except-”

“Except?”

Jean kissed her. “Except that now we know exactly what that royal bastard is capable of. My mother was right to mistrust my association with Eamon. He’s the only one who could have arranged messages, and that pardon, to be slipped past my watch on Conrad. Although she couldn’t have been more wrong about you.”

He kissed her again. “And now we also know Ser Renaud’s family is not to be trusted, thanks to you. So that breach in our wall is sealed. Although the chancellor has felt some… loss- at the severing.” Jean must have realized that the conversation started to move in an unfavorable direction, and he kissed her once more. “And… it’s just possible- that perhaps reports of the assassin’s death from sepsis may have been exaggerated.”

“The body you removed from the dungeons?” she asked.

“Wrapped tightly, of course. A body smells terribly when death comes by infection, as you well know.”

He was very obviously pleased with the ingenuity of the scheme, and Vero found the feeling contagious. Although she was not sure if it was right or wrong to do so.

“A clever sort of subterfuge, I suppose,” she replied, at last.

“You, Freddie, and myself are the only ones who know the truth. Not even the Marie – or her father – knows about this particular trump card. You won’t tell anyone, I hope.”

“You can trust in my discretion.”

Vero was not sure how to feel.

It was the assassin who had brewed the poison which had killed Antoinette. Who was truly responsible for the poor girl’s death? The lad who brought the poison was only an unknowing pawn, she held him no malice. The assassin sent the boy on his deadly mission, but only in the employ of the vile earl. Did the Earl’s beheading bring justice? Was he ultimately responsible for her death?

Or was it you?

The Earl was dead. The assassin was a captive, and he would be used to vex the one who had truly put the whole plot into motion to begin with.

Perhaps, if the gods were just, someday Vero would find herself in private with his majesty. If she did, then his death would not be a political act against a tyrant.

Merely an act of personal vengeance.

She and Jean made love together one last time. When they were finished, Vero redressed. She wore pants and a tunic, and her breasts were bound tight to her chest by a length of silk fabric.

She was also traveling light. She had considered bundling up all her gowns and jewels to sell at the first city she reached. In the end, she decided to leave it all behind.

Jean promised that he would keep them all for her.

She originally thought that she would be walking, but Jean insisted that she must keep Papillon. Vero had already grown so close to her, and she was a very sweet creature. So, after some debate, Vero decided to accept.

Besides the mount, she kept the armor and some other equipment Jean had given to her from his stores. That much was honorable payment for the exorcism of the spirit haunting Kaer Longus.

Mostly, she was leaving as she had arrived. Perhaps a little heavier, but lean days on the road would soon take care of that.

“I can’t change your mind?”

Vero shook her head.

“You’re always welcome to return. You’ll always have a home here.”

“This isn’t the place for me.”

“It can be.”

Vero stood up and approached her horse. She did not answer.

“I love you, Vero.”

“You live in a nest of vipers. Your own king is so terrified of you fomenting rebellion against him, that he agitates among your own vassals to create all the same lawlessness from the civil war all over again. Only he hopes this time it will be restricted to just one province and stay there. It’s unfortunate that wars have a way of creeping beyond the boundaries where we wished them stop at the beginning of the endeavor. An honest man’s family took advantage of his trust to advance their own interests with the crown. Friends are hired to spy on their companions. And marriages have less passion than a banking transaction. I’m not brave enough to live that way; I can’t understand those kinds of enemies. I’m made to hunt a different kind of monster. And I need to find one soon, because I don’t think I’ll be able to feel clean again until I’ve washed my sins in blood.”

Her hands were shaking and her legs felt weak, and when Vero felt his arms reach around her, she nearly fell into his embrace. Jean kissed her.

She returned the kiss, but only for a moment before she broke away. “Good-bye, my love.”

“Good-bye, Veronique.” She got back on her horse, and Jean watched her go. “I won’t forget you. Whenever you’re ready to come home, I’ll be waiting for you.”

Vero could not help but laugh. “The first passing fair maiden that crosses your path… and you won’t remember my name.”

“We shall see... I-” He might have said more, but Vero was no longer there to hear it.