Chancellor Damius Marks had fallen asleep the previous night in his chair with the orb cradled in one arm. It had happened on so many occasions that he’d had his chair converted so he could kick the seat back and lie down if he needed.
He woke up feeling better than he imagined he would. He felt so invigorated for the day that he decided he would play devil’s advocate. Marks wanted to remind himself that he had total control of everything and everyone in the entire castle.
The orb seemed to agree as it lit up a little within its apparatus as he paced the sanctum. There was one victim in Marcus’s little scheme who was about to get retribution.
Marks strode down the ramp to his chamber door. “Jasson?” He called to the guard who stood watch in the arched threshold down the way.
“It’s Carson, Sir.” The guard approached. He was Jasson’s cousin, but it didn’t matter.
Damius Marks waved. “Summon my son, Marcus, and his lovely fiancé, Ersonia, to the dining hall for breakfast. I’ll meet him there in twenty minutes.”
“Yes, Sir.” The guard nodded, turned on his heel, and before he could begin walking away with the order, Marks added another request.
“Also, summon the monk girl from her quarters to join us for breakfast. I’m sure she’s very hungry after her performance yesterday.”
“Of course, right away,” the guard named Carson waited. “Anything else?” He asked.
Marks tapped his mouth with his fingers. “I don’t think so. That’ll be all. Thank you.” He returned to his quarters as the guard started toward Marcus’s royal chamber.
That should put the fear of Omne into his mustang of a son; trying to mount every female in sight. It would at least provide entertainment for the morning to watch Marcus squirm.
Though, knowing Marcus, he would find a way to charm both women at the breakfast table. If the girl wasn’t doomed to be executed that afternoon, he might find himself and the two women enjoying the entire day in his chambers. Marks shook his head; to be young, rich, and attractive.
Marks took a quick rinse in his personal showers, then got dressed in his royal gown. This would be his first close encounter with the girl of his ire. His intention was ill toward her, and yet she dogged him still.
It was Damius Marks who would have a difficult time controlling himself at the coming feast. Ending the girl as quickly as possible might just rule over him, but he promised to make a concerted effort to remain patient. After all, so very many plans for death and murder had been put in place just for his guest of honor.
Chancellor Marks left his sanctum and made his way toward the dining hall. Marcus and Ersonia were already there. The glee in Marks’s chest rose as he saw that Marcus was hung over from all the liquid courage he consumed the previous evening. He was about to become sober, fast. Ersonia looked oblivious. She was already eating appetizers the waiters had brought earlier.
Marks cleared his throat as he entered the hall and made for his seat at the head of the table. “Good morning, everyone.”
“Good morning, Chancellor.” Ersonia said in her chipper voice. It was too early for such a sound. The tone grated Marks’s nerves.
“Father,” said Marcus, “the church on the outskirts of town: what do you think of turning it into a wedding venue?”
Ersonia gasped. “Oh Marcus, that would be so enchanting!”
Marcus looked to Ersonia at his side, dumbstruck. “Oh, I was merely asking in general. We should continue the tradition of being married in the castle. It just seems like such a waste of money to have a condemned church sitting on the coast.”
“My mistake,” said Ersonia. The false persona of happiness left her voice. “Of course you wouldn’t actually be caught discussing the mythical wedding we might have some day.”
“What a fantastic morning for an argument.” Marcus wiped down the front of his dress shirt as he stared ahead of him.
Marks held his composure, but the human part of him that was still alive deep down loved watching Marcus and his soon to be ex-fiancée quarrel. He watched his son’s tired face as the waiter poured him and Ersonia a steaming cup of coffee.
Marks could see straight through him. He held onto Ersonia because he couldn’t break up with her without telling her he wanted to date someone else. And yet, the woman he truly wanted to be with consumed his every thought.
He wanted to get up from this table, retrieve the silly monk girl and travel the Ire mainland or whatever other fantasy Marcus might have in mind for the two lovers who weren’t lovers yet. All this time felt like wasted time because he wouldn’t marry Ersonia. Why was she even here except to get under everyone’s skin?
Damius Marks did not care either way about Ersonia. He didn’t even care about her for Marcus. He had already experienced pleasure with her when she gave herself to Prince Garnhelm of Cherry, thinking he or his brother would marry her into the family so the duchess could become the rightful princess she had always dreamed of being.
Both brothers used the girl, then dumped her for women that they’d had prior arrangements with. Unfortunate, because she was only doing what she thought was needed of her. Sad that Marcus could let her go just the same, and for a girl who was not royalty at all.
A royal guard entered the dining hall and paused at the threshold. “May I present, Susi.” The guard shrugged. “That is all.” He stepped aside so that Susi could enter.
Unlawfully taken from Royal Road, this story should be reported if seen on Amazon.
She wore her blue koromo with her black undershirt beneath as she followed the guard to a seat that had been prepared for her across from Marcus. The leather boots she wore looked awkward on her feet as she wanted to abide by the Narcuss Castle shoe rule.
Susi and Marcus’s eyes met and a volatile feeling made Marks’s lip curl. They smiled at one another. It was as though his sullen son was suddenly replaced by a charming, thoughtful man of royalty.
The only silver lining was that Ersonia noticed as well. She was too busy judging the girl’s strange clothing and odd demeanor to realize that her fiancé’s energy had just changed entirely, but she dismissed his fascination as a passing interest in the girl’s religion.
Just what Marks was worried about took place after. “What would you like to eat this morning, Susi?” Marcus folded his fingers together as he rested his elbows on the dining table.
“Do you have rice?” Susi asked.
“Yes, but it’ll take a few minutes to prepare.” Marcus replied.
“I’ll have rice, fruit, and any greens, nuts, and mushrooms you might have available.” Susi said.
“Is she like…a squirrel or something?” Ersonia asked.
“They’re vegetarians,” said Marcus. “I consider any food request from Susi as a serious break from her normal behavior.”
“Do you two know each other?” Ersonia squinted between them.
“We met after the conclusion of the Tornetum yesterday evening.” Marcus spoke in a lawyerly way, glancing to Susi. “I asked if I could get her anything to eat for having won for the day, and she said she didn’t eat after noon.”
“Oh.” Ersonia dressed Susi up and down with her eyes.
Susi ignored her and reclined in her seat. She looked to Marks who realized he was glaring at her. “I came with my friend. He was in the chamber next to mine, but when I knocked he didn’t answer. Will he be joining us, or should I be concerned for his well-being?”
“I never gave any order for either of you to stay in the castle.” Damius Marks drawled. “I know nothing about it.”
Marcus waved, knowing his father knew little of the day-to-day goings on in the castle. “I’ll find out where your friend is. I’m a little surprised he didn’t come with you.” He relayed the information to one of the guards who hurried off.
The waiters brought a banquet of fruits and vegetables that they placed between the three members of the table. Marks requested a glass of hot water, and that was all. “So, Susi,” Marks began. “What would your father think of all this?”
“Me being drafted into a tournament or my living as a Talea monk?” she asked.
“That you live poor and make no effort to better your circumstance.” Marks replied.
“We always strive to better ourselves, but the point is to reduce the negative energy we create with our actions. By taking as little as possible, we have no circumstance to better. We have all we need.”
“The homeless live similarly.” Marks shrugged.
“Father.” Marcus interjected.
“So you live…outside?” Ersonia asked.
“We,” Susi paused, smiling at how little the woman knew, “can live outside, but my friend and I live in a hut. To answer your question earlier, Chancellor, I believe my father would be proud—perhaps not of my lifestyle—but of my conviction to my choices. I chose this life, and I abide by the rules of it.”
“For now.” Marcus said. The flaring of his eyes told the table he hadn't intended to open his mouth. “I mean, we all have our convictions, but sometimes I like to think about what it would take to get me to change them.”
“How do you mean?” Susi asked.
“What would it take for you to change your life, to change your convictions? It’s always a choice, right?”
“I’ve never heard this side of you before, Marcus.” Ersonia observed as she finished buttering a piece of toasted bread.
“Far more than it would take for someone like you.” Susi answered. A heavy silence followed the statement.
Marks went back to the initial subject. “Did you know your father?”
Susi met his eyes again. “No.”
“I feel like I knew your father.” Marks mused.
“I wouldn’t know because I’ve never met him.” She shrugged.
“It would bode well for you that you were his daughter,” Marks continued. “I watched him tear a man in half in the arena where you’ll fight later this afternoon. Like father, like daughter.”
Marks watched Susi look at him once more, but this time there was a fierce, furious determination in her eyes. “Is that why you’ve put me in this game?”
Marks’s eyes bugged as he belted, “Oh-ho-ho no, my dear. That would be a mere interesting side note if you happened to be related to the great Jonathan Tabith. You’re going to die in the arena because this kingdom might not survive if you don’t.”
“What?” Marcus glared at his father. Ersonia looked taken aback as she looked to Marcus.
“You don’t know what she’s scheming, you simple-minded fool!” Marks said to his son sharply.
“Did I miss something?” Ersonia asked.
“You and me both, sister.” Susi said.
Marcus pinched the spot between his eyes before looking up at the table. “Well, this has been fantastic, and par for the course in this dysfunctional family of ours. Father, I think you should retire early, and perhaps skip the games today.”
The light in the room suddenly went dim. Marks bit his lip while raising his fist at Marcus. Marcus’s skin went pale. Susi got to her feet, but then the light returned to normal. Marcus wore the face of someone who had swallowed an object by accident.
“Your rice, Madame,” a guard spoke while sliding a large bowl of rice before Susi.
Susi glanced from Marks to Marcus, and then sat down. There was a brief silence as Susi and Marks glared at one another. She picked up her spoon, craned her neck so she could smell the rice, and then spooned a portion to eat.
Marks watched her carefully. It took him a few moments of introspection, but he finally realized why she made him uncomfortable. It was because, for the last thousand or so years, no one had looked at him without fear. The girl saw no fear. She saw through him. The idea that he couldn’t intimidate or coerce her course in any way was troubling.
Susi was halfway through her rice when she noticed Marcus smiling at her. An loathsome feeling crept through Marks as he watched Susi smile back while dabbing the corners of her mouth with her napkin. Ersonia next to him seemed oblivious to her fiancé’s main focus of attention.
“Considering there’s a chance we may never see you again, Susi, perhaps you could tell us how you came to be a part of this religion.” Marcus suggested.
Susi swallowed the rice in her mouth and stared at the table for a long while. “I don’t think about it usually.” She said.
“There has to be a reason why you swore off life’s delicacies for a life of pain and suffering,” said Marcus.
“There will always be pain and suffering,” said Susi. “I don’t remember everything, but…well, for me it starts with a thief named Yatner….”