Standing at the bathroom mirror, Ferris studied his reflection carefully, giving it a cheerful smile. A few days of rest had done wonders for his complexion, and his makeup would cover what little signs of tiredness remained.
Only a touch more now, he thought, dabbing around his eyes.
In the three days since Ferris had detected a curse for the first time, he’d spent more time asleep than in the entire week prior. When he wasn’t resting, it felt like he was always eating something, as Ram and Clind piled him with food to make up for the weight he’d lost. Now, the last month of overwork and weariness almost seemed like a bad dream.
His gate had mostly recovered from the strain he had put it under, though Roswaal was unlikely to restart their lessons until it had completely healed.
But that was fine. Ferris suspected that if he kept up his current routine, he’d be fully recovered in another few days, just in time for his meeting with Fourier.
Sadly, he could not say the same for his meeting with Crusch, which was less than an hour away.
Ferris examined himself again with a careful eye, trying to judge if he was presentable enough for seeing his liege.
Ample sleep, food, new clothes, and some light makeup ensured that he looked well rested, but that was not the most important detail he had to keep in mind. Most importantly of all, Ferris had to get his smile right.
Crusch was an expert at seeing through masks, so rather than attempt to hide his emotions, he should instead project what he wanted her to see.
He tried to make his smile more natural, to soften the hard edges of his face. Then he allowed his memories of damaging the curse to bubble up to the surface.
The smile on the mirror morphed into a manic grin, and a wildness appeared in his eyes, as if the reflection was a madman who had abandoned all pretence of sanity.
Better keep that under wraps, Ferris concluded, clamping down on those feelings. It wasn’t a smile that he’d ever show in polite conversation, nor did he ever want his friends to catch a glimpse of it.
There was a possibility that Crusch would be happy he was doing better… but it seemed more likely that she would become even more concerned.
I would be the same if I saw that smile on her or Fourier, Ferris thought. And besides, that’s not a cute face at all.
Thankfully, disguising triumph and manic energy was much easier than disguising weariness and frustration. He should be able to play off any of his strangeness as lingering effects of his lack of sleep.
He tapped at his face a bit more, but adding more make-up wasn’t going to change anything. He already looked fine, and more would only make it look like he was trying to hide something.
He twirled and walked away from the mirror, resolutely not giving it a second glance. He had a meeting to attend to.
----------------------------------------
Ferris sat curled up on the couch, cradling an open book in his hands.
He was waiting in the manor’s lounge, the place he usually met with Crusch for their weekly meetings.
He had come down from his room a bit early, and was now waiting with little to occupy his time. He wished he could have waited at the front door for Crusch’s arrival, but he had no doubt that Crusch would be annoyed with him if he neglected his rest to stand waiting for her.
Thus, he sat, leaving the task of letting his liege enter to Ram, idly flipping the pages of his book.
He didn’t exactly have anything better to do. Roswaal had departed on business, likely to meet with Fourier and report to him, while checking for traces of curses among the palace staff. Clind had gone with him, and Ram was busy with her work, so Ferris was left alone with only his thoughts and books for company.
In addition, the act of reading was—in his opinion—a rather clever calculation on his part. He had brought one of the lighter volumes with him to read over while he waited, a simple tome that described the method of creating magic that could destroy curses with healing magic. It was the same method he had used to wound the curse in his fight.
Though he had planned to appear to read it to show Crusch that he was doing alright, he soon found himself engrossed in its words. The things it described that hadn’t made sense before he sensed the curse were suddenly as clear as day. He had barely fought at all, but he could still intuit the ways the curse might have reacted to different spells, and could now see the value in those analysis spells that had evaded his understanding.
Perhaps if he had approached the curse in this way, or had used this shield here, or had tried to analyse before striking, he could have destroyed the curse all on his own.
He was so deep in thought that he almost missed the sound of footsteps approaching the door.
Once they did register, he snapped his head up, then hurriedly closed the book and laid it down, sitting up straight and unruffling the creases in his clothing. He was supposed to be reassuring Crusch, not proving that he was just as overworked as before!
Satisfied with his appearance, he darted forward and pulled the door open, just in time to see Crusch raising a hand to knock.
How striking.
Crusch’s eyes blazed, the resolve she was so well known for ignited as she approached him, but as he met her eyes another thought occurred.
She’s exhausted.
Crusch was inspiring to be around, and while he’d rarely needed to see it, skilled at hiding her emotions. It was only thanks to the countless hours he’d spent beside her that he could tell. There was a slight hesitation to her steps, as if she were holding herself still, and when she sat down on the couch, she forgot to properly adopt her usual refined posture.
“Lady Crusch, it’s so good to see you in good health,” Ferris said, bowing to greet her.
Crusch said nothing, observing him closely for a moment, her eyes tracing the creases in his dress. Then she smiled.
“I am glad that I can finally say the same of you,” she answered. “It is good to see you, Ferris.”
He sat down beside her, curling his legs up so he could face her directly.
“I’ve made progress in my studies, which has helped greatly with my stress,” he said, allowing his voice to take on a slightly sheepish tone. “I have perhaps neglected myself a little too much up till now, but now I’m back on track. Once I get a little more rest, I’ll be fine.”
Crusch gave him a frown, with a look in her eye that told him she didn’t believe for a second that he would be taking that rest if he wasn’t being forced to.
Seeing that, Ferris decided to hurriedly move onto the next topic before she could start interrogating him. “May I ask how your own task is going?”
Crusch hesitated, but then her eyes flicked to his book on the table, and she let out a quiet sigh.
“I’ve caused you to worry about me, haven’t I?” she asked. “Even though you’re so tired yourself. Perhaps I could leave that until—”
“You haven’t caused me to worry at all,” Ferris interjected. It was the truth, but not entirely the whole truth. He did worry about his liege, but that was nothing new. He always was concerned for her, and put her needs above his own.
So technically, she hadn’t caused it.
Now, given that Crusch detected lies by seeing the swirl of someone’s emotions, such a little trick as speaking technical half-truths would not usually be enough to get past her. But Ferris was an expert in lying to his liege. So long as he believed his half-truths, he could lead her line of thought astray.
He’d almost feel guilty about it, but it had to be done. He needed her to open up enough that she’d confide in him about whatever was troubling her.
“I’ve found a lead on a potential suspect, which has helped direct our investigation,” Crusch said. “The spy from the funeral was killed in a most unusual manner by insects, which has been repeated several times since on innocent commoners. I believe we are getting closer to finding the culprit.”
Ferris closed his eyes, nodding slowly. It was no surprise that Crusch was overworking herself in a scenario like that. Crusch clearly blamed herself for the later deaths, as if she had found the culprit earlier, those people would still be alive.
Crusch was just like Fourier, both of them cared about everyone around them.
Ferris was honestly surprised that she had taken the time to visit him, rather than dispatching a courier to tell him their meeting was rescheduled.
“Would you care to accompany me for a stroll around the capital?” Crusch asked. “There are matters I’d appreciate your council on.”
Ferris blinked. That was an unusual request, she had not wished to take time away from his duties up till this point, so she must really need his help if she was asking now.
Naturally, he was under strict orders not to strain his body or gate, to rest and recover for his return to lessons. That meant he could only give Crusch one possible answer.
But…
“Of course. Ferri would be honoured to.”
…he couldn’t do it.
His answer was the wrong one, considering the state of his gate, but he could never say no to his liege.
“Teacher has already arranged to give Ferri the day off,” Ferris continued, his mind racing to phrase the sentence so as not to reveal too much.
He did have the day off. The fact that it was for his recovery, rather than being free to do as he pleased, was something that didn’t need to be brought up.
“That being said though…” Ferris said hesitating slightly. “If we intend to be back before it gets dark, we’d need to set off now.”
It was an uncharacteristically blunt statement, but if he was going to leave, he needed to do so quickly. He’d noticed that Ram had a habit of periodically checking to see if he was actually resting. And if she came to check on them before they left, she might talk to Crusch.
If he wanted any chance of getting out of the manor without Crusch knowing the truth about his state, then he needed to leave immediately.
However, it seemed he had let some of his true feelings on the matter get too close to the surface of his mind. Crusch had narrowed her eyes, staring at him with a glint of suspicion.
“Ferris,” she said, a trace of exasperation in her tone. “I hope that Lord Roswaal gave you permission first, before you picked up the habit of calling him Teacher.”
“He has,” Ferris confirmed, unable to stop a mischievous smile from forming at the memory.
“You’ll make me worry about how you got permission if you smile like that,” Crusch warned, her smile warming for a second before cooling just as quickly.
“Ferris… you do know that I can tell you're not telling me something. You don’t have to reveal it, but if I find out later that it’s something you should have told me, know that I will double your punishment.” Crusch pronounced.
Ferris couldn’t quite suppress a shiver. He knew from experience that unlike most, Crusch always kept her word.
That didn’t change his decision, as even if she did end up doubling his punishment later, he still thought it worth it. And if he managed to keep her from learning the truth, he wouldn’t get punished at all!
When he continued to say nothing, Crusch sighed.
“Very well, if that is your decision, I’ll respect it for now. Let’s be on our way.”
Together they walked through the halls of the manor, Ferris keeping his emotions firmly under control, and his ears twitching to try and locate the manor’s other resident. Roswaal and Clind had departed on business, but Ram was still in the manor.
He had heard some clinking from the kitchen, but now that area was silent. Perhaps she had decided to take a nap while he was meeting with Crusch? She did seem the type to slack off on the job.
They reached the front door without running into her, and Ferris felt himself relax. He’d managed to give her the slip.
Then Crusch opened the door, and Ferris felt his heart stop. As it turned out, he had not managed to give her the slip at all.
“Lady Crusch, may I ask where you are taking Sir Ferris?” Ram asked, standing with her arms crossed right outside the door. A pair of gardening shears lay on the ground beside her, doubtlessly discarded when she heard them coming.
Crusch shifted her stance, then shot a glance back at Ferris. He avoided her gaze, and she sighed.
“I’ve asked him to take a look at something, to aid in my investigation. Can I assume he did not tell me something?”
Ram nodded. “The reason he doesn’t have any duties is because he needs to rest after straining even his gate. He damaged it badly not even half a week ago.”
Busted.
Ferris was an expert at the many expressions his Lady made. Even though Crusch’s face barely twitched, he could tell from her eyes alone that she was furious that he’d hide the state of his health.
“Thank you for informing me of this.” Crusch said calmly, then she turned to face him fully. “Ferris I will ask you directly then, before I let you take another step forward.”
Ferris was tempted to take a small step forward, but the fact that Crusch was potentially willing to postpone punishment meant this must be serious.
“Can you examine a dead body without further straining your gate?” Crusch asked.
“I can’t,” Ferris admitted. Then when he saw Crusch’s face fall, he hurriedly continued, “However, if it’s something that minor, the stress would be incredibly small. Even if I spend a few hours examining them, it shouldn’t set me back more than a day, so I’ll be fine to check one for you!”
Crusch frowned, but this time Ferris was speaking the pure and plain truth, with no attempt to mislead. Crusch held his gaze for a moment, but then sighed and nodded her acceptance.
“That will have to be enough. The other healers haven’t been able to learn anything. The murders have drastically increased in scope and scale,” Crusch said. “If you are certain the penalties to yourself will be minor, I’ll bring you to examine one of the nearer bodies. One of our experts should already be there, so perhaps you’ll be able to give each other a better idea of what happened.”
“Forgive me for interjecting, Lady Crusch,” Ram spoke up. “But it may be best for me to accompany Sir Ferris as well. Lord Roswaal isn’t in the manor at the moment, but I was instructed to keep Sir Ferris from harm, or to call for Lord Roswaal if his aid is required.”
Crusch turned to face the maid.
“If Lord Roswaal instructed you to keep him safe, can I trust your skill in combat?” Crusch asked.
“Ram is proficient in Wind Magic, and Lord Roswaal has provided some metias for use in case of emergencies,” Ram said, meeting her gaze.
Crusch held it for a moment, then nodded, accepting Ram’s answer.
“You seem confident in your ability, and I have first-hand experience at the utility Lord Roswaal’s metias can bring,” she said. “Very well, you can join us.”
Noooo! Now I can’t spend time with Lady Crusch alone!
Ferris allowed himself a second to pout in displeasure, before forcing himself to perk up.
It wasn’t all bad. After all, he had wanted to get to know her better since receiving her aid. What better way was there to do that than being around Crusch?
----------------------------------------
Contrary to Ferris’s expectations, Crusch’s presence hadn’t caused Ram to open up. If anything, she talked even less than she usually did, although admittedly it was mostly his own fault. She didn’t have much of a chance to say anything with him pestering Crusch to know how she was doing and how Fourier was getting on.
In his defence, it had been an entire week since he had seen Crusch, and he hadn’t been in the best of conditions for their last few meetings.
At the very least, he’d gotten to see that Ram was completely honest when she did speak up, from what he could read of Crusch’s face, before they reached the bodies.
The first thing Ferris noticed was the strong odour drifting from their remains. The smell of death was thick in the air.
But it was nothing compared to seeing the remains themselves.
As a healer, Ferris was familiar with the bodies of both humans, and demi-humans alike, but even his father’s twisted experiments paled in comparison.
It was clear that the body had been desecrated from hundreds of small creatures. For a second, Ferris recalled a creature of similar description, the image of the Great Rabbit flashing through his mind. But that creature wouldn’t have left anything behind, not even blood or bone. Indeed, it would have devoured the entire slums district, even the entire city.
Shaking his head, Ferris noticed the guards surrounding the corpse’s exhaustion easily, he imagined staying near something so horrid would drain a person.
Which just made the elderly noble crouched over the remains with a fascinated look stand out all the more.
“Edgar, have you discovered anything new?” Crusch asked, as they came to a stop in front of the body.
The man perked up, and glanced at them, shifting his spectacles so he could see the three of them.
“I can tell you that this body—as with all the others you’ve asked me to look at—seems to have been devoured in the same way as the first,” Edgar said.
This story originates from Royal Road. Ensure the author gets the support they deserve by reading it there.
He gave a slight smile and shrugged his shoulders. “But anyone could tell you that. I don’t have much in the way of carapace remnants to work from, only the way the remains have been left, what they’ve chosen to leave uneaten, and the way the flesh has been damaged. I’d need more information to make theories that are more than just idle speculation.”
“Well, you may get more information today. My attendant is the current Blue, and while prior mages haven’t been able to glean much, he might be able to,” Crusch said. “However, his duties keep him very busy. We won’t be able to get his aid with this investigation very often.”
“Of course, Lady Crusch,” Edgar said, turning to examine Ferris with curiosity shining in his eyes. Thankfully, the elderly man had no visible anger or disgust, which at least meant that his demi-human nature wouldn’t be a current problem. However, the way he looked at Ferris was a bit off-putting. It was like the old man saw him as nothing more than a useful tool.
Ferris turned his attention away from the man, and knelt down beside the corpse.
Reaching down to touch the body and examine it, Ferris allowed his closed gate to open once more, and made his mana flow through it.
It was a ruin. So much had been destroyed, in such a violent manner, that Ferris had difficulty even examining the body as a single corpse, rather than as various pieces of flesh.
He worked through his senses and started trying to puzzle the information he was getting together. The legs appeared to have been targeted first, and compared to the rest of the body, were destroyed quickly.
Something to stop the victim from running, perhaps?
In contrast, everything else had been attacked sadistically, with no rhyme nor reason to it. The nerve endings in the hands had been frayed and destroyed, leaving almost nothing. Ferris couldn’t imagine a reason behind it other than a simple desire to cause pain.
At some point, the victim must have died, since there had been a shift in the way the body had been destroyed, though it was difficult to tell exactly what it was.
Why is this so hard to read?
“We’re sure that the victim was killed today?” Ferris asked. It was perhaps an unnecessary question. His own experience with physical examination bodies told him it was likely the truth. The blood was too wet, the bones too soft, and the remaining organs too intact for it to be more than a few hours old. But there was one detail that didn’t match up.
“Fairly sure,” Crush replied with confusion touching her voice. “The guards met up with a witness who saw the victim alive last night. The body also had some distinguishing items, so we’re highly confident that we know the identity of the victim.”
“How possible is it that these bodies have been tampered with, and the evidence added?” Ferris asked.
“It’s possible, I suppose,” Crusch allowed. “Do you think the identity of the corpse is important, Ferris?”
“No, I don't think identity is important…” Ferris said slowly. “But the traces of mana on this corpse are so non-existent that even I’m struggling to gather details.”
Crusch tilted her head.
“I’ve seen you gain information from corpses weeks old though,” she said with surprise. “You’ve never had any difficulty in the past.”
“I wish these corpses were only as faded as that,” Ferris said. “But this is closer to a corpse left alone for months. I’m not surprised that every other mage has failed to gather information on it. Few have enough control to investigate so subtly. I’m the first to examine this particular corpse, amn’t I?”
Crusch nodded. “This one was only discovered this morning. How could you tell?”
“You would have mentioned that the other corpses had lacked mana first if the other healers had noticed. I can only assume that some of their own mana sufficed the corpses before they noticed anything,” Ferris said.
He glanced back down at the body, trying to feel out why the mana was missing. But his gate was still injured, and such fine control of mana was beyond him.
“Once I’ve fully recovered,” Ferris said, allowing his healing orb to dissipate. “I’ll have to examine this corpse again, to see if I can figure out more. Or maybe a fresh one, if the attacks continue.”
Crusch pursed her lips, but didn’t comment on it. They both knew that the attacks likely would continue. They had no way to prevent them.
“Sir Felix, if I might inquire about a select few details?” asked a rather upbeat voice, standing in stark contrast to the morbid air.
Ferris turned his head up to Edgar, who was looking at him with a hungry curiosity.
“You said their mana was especially faded, could you clarify what that means?” he asked. “That is to say, is there any natural process to explain this? How does mana usually leave corpses?”
Ferris hesitated. “Well… I do not know of any method outside of healing that removes mana. Mostly corpses just lose it over time. It leaks into the surroundings, and the gate no longer takes it in.”
Edgar nodded, a smile spreading across his lips.
“Remarkable. Then this must have been the work of one of those specimens.”
He paused, tapping the side of his head with a finger, his eyes distant as if lost in a world of his own.
“Lethargy Mosquitos,” he finally declared with a snap of his fingers. “That was their name. There are rumours of a particular type of mosquito in the Vollachian jungles which feast not on blood, but on a victim’s mana. I have not personally been able to collect a specimen, but I believe I have an illustration somewhere…”
“So you’ve identified another insect,” Ferris said. “But that doesn’t really help us. We still don’t know anything useful.”
Crusch frowned down at him. “That may be so, but Lord Edgar has voluntarily dedicated a significant amount of time to this investigation. Do not be so rude, Ferris.”
Ferris sunk down, his liege’s disappointment in him wounding him to the heart.
For his part, Edgar just chuckled.
“You needn’t worry about me, Lady Crusch,” he said, still beaming. “I understand that my aid has not been especially helpful over the course of your work. And now that I do have something I can share, I fear it is less pleasant than you would have hoped.”
Crusch perked up. “Really? Even bad news is something that may be valuable to us.”
She glanced at the surroundings, and more importantly, at the armoured figures standing guard around them. They were soldiers of the Karsten estate, but Crusch still eyed them warily. Ferris could tell she was at war within herself, weighing the risk of betrayal against her desire to trust them.
After a moment, her expression cleared, and she turned back to Edgar.
“Speak freely, all here are trustworthy.”
Edgar nodded. “It is said that due to their diet, Lethargy Mosquitos are incredibly rich in mana. For this insect master, they would serve as a convenient store of mana.”
Crusch tilted her head. “I can see why the enemy having such a store of mana would be troublesome, but we’ve already assumed they could have a supply of lagmite with them.”
“It is true that for humans, lagmite is a far more effective store of mana,” Edgar said. “But that is not the case for insects. They are usually unable to access the mana contained within them, and must rely on their gates in most cases. This limits their population growth to a certain extent, as most insects require a certain usage of mana during their reproductive processes. However, they are capable of gaining mana from their food, which I believe is what the mosquitos are for.”
Crusch blinked. “So… you mean the insect master means to alleviate that bottleneck? They intend to boost the numbers of the insects under their control?”
Edgar nodded. “Precisely. I’ve suspected it for a while, as all the victims up to this point have been missing their livers and fatty flesh, the most nutritious parts of the body.”
Ferris felt a bit sick on hearing those words. The old man said them matter-of-factly, as if he were merely discussing the effects of the weather. Even the guards looked a bit pale.
“But it didn’t match up until now,” he continued, ignoring the queasy looks he was receiving, “as much of the blood remained behind, and many of the bodies had only partially eaten hearts, both of which are rich in mana.”
Crusch seemed bothered by the nauseating descriptions. She stood deep in thought, hand rubbing her chin.
“So can we expect attacks to increase in the near future?” she asked. “How much can we expect the insects’ numbers to increase? And how quickly will it happen?”
Edgar shrugged. “It is difficult to say. I would assume attacks will increase, if only to feed their increased number. As to how much? That I cannot give any kind of prediction.”
He stood up, looking toward the sky. “No swarms have ever been witnessed during an attack, so we don’t know how many are usually sent out on ‘raiding parties’. If we assume the ones you killed are indicative of a normal swarm… I would tentatively say that their numbers could reach as high as twenty, perhaps thirty swarms at the most while keeping the Lethargy Mosquitos alive, though at that point they would be killing several people a day just to feed themselves.”
Crusch nodded slowly. “That sounds more manageable than I feared… but dealing with those swarms is still impossible for any but mages. They are not the kind of enemy that can be defeated with an increased number of soldiers.”
She paused, then pursed her lips.
“What if they choose not to keep them alive? If they consume the mosquitos and create as many insects as possible?”
“While I unfortunately do not have any samples of the Lethargy Mosquitos myself, I do suspect that if it can harness much of the mana found in humans, and refine it for other insects, it’s entirely possible that even a single Lethargy Mosquito could supply thousands of combatant insects, why with as many Mosquitos have already been produced, it could create millions perhaps even billions of insects if they manage to maximise their swarms,” Edgar said, sounding almost enthusiastic at the thought, before seeming to notice the horror in everyone else’s expression.
Coughing the man continued, “Ah, but there is some good news,” Edgar said, turning to face Crusch, nervously. “Part of the reason Lethargy Mosquitos are so rare is their mana density. Outside of their swamps, they are eaten by all manner of predators, birds, bats, other insects…”
He shrugged. “The list goes on. Regardless, if they travel alone, they will inevitably run into and be devoured by those predators, so it stands to reason they must be travelling with the swarms for protection. And while good data on them is hard to get, if they have a flight speed similar to normal mosquitos, then they will be quite slow, requiring a great deal of time to move through the city.”
“I see,” Crusch said. “Since no one has reported such a swarm, they must be based somewhere nearby… somewhere they can reach while under the cover of darkness.”
She glanced around at the dwellings around them, the decrepit shacks so common in the slums.
“There are a great deal of abandoned buildings in or near the slums. The insect master is likely using one as the base for their raiding parties.”
She narrowed her eyes. “I’ll start investigating them. I thank you for your work, Lord Edgar. This may prove to be a valuable lead, and I will make sure to kill the swarms before they can multiply.”
The old man inclined his head. “I’m glad my efforts have finally been of service to you. And if you do happen to find them, please do allow me to categorise them. Even just one would allow me to give a far more accurate number on just how many they could create. They could be a great boon for the field of entomology.”
“I… I’ll keep that in mind.”
----------------------------------------
Fourier strode forward, his recent experience and extensive schooling allowing him to keep his doubt from showing on his face. He was glad to at least have Julius by his side.
He’d never been fond of meetings, but it had become far worse now that he was informally King.
Every moment he was outside his chambers, he was generally either in a meeting or moving towards a new one.
It made him wish that he could simply talk with each of his council individually, without having to carefully consider the politics behind it. He was certain that he’d be able to assuage their concerns and more importantly, understand them.
One on one, there’d never been a person he’d failed to understand, but make it a large group? It wasn’t impossible, but it became far more complicated and likely to give him a headache.
Sadly, there were several issues with such an idea. For starters he'd have to go through the members slowly and in a certain order to avoid displeasing any of them. Something that wouldn’t be kept secret for long, and he could easily be looking at accusations of favouritism if a less important but still vital member had to be visited after one of his rivals.
Of course even if he got past that issue, he simply lacked the time to go through with such a plan. Clearing out time periods for his weekly meetings with Ferris and Crusch was challenging enough.
“Julius, I’ve been noticing that more power blocks have been forming inside of the council,” Fourier asked now that they were alone. “Has your uncle been invited to join any yet?”
“He has not,” Julius replied, allowing himself to stride beside Fourier rather than remain a step behind. “He is close enough to the royal faction that no one feels comfortable in trying to pry him away. The last time we spoke, he mentioned that he has noticed that most of the current manoeuvring seems to be focused around the new church faction, lead by Bishop Jaune. Although that is possibly because the block is new to the council, and all others are working out the new order.”
“If Jaune was someone I didn’t know well, I could believe it,” Fourier allowed. “I do know him though, and I know he’s too clever to allow himself to get entangled like that. No, if he’s the most prominent in the current council rumours, it’s by his own design.”
“You think the block is being formed over something the church wants, then,” Julius said.
“I do, and I have a sneaking suspicion I know what that something is,” Fourier said, red eyes darkening in anger. “Ever since he began manoeuvring, I stopped hearing about moving my formal coronation forwards. I suspect Jaune is angling to gather enough support from the various nobles to threaten to force the issue.”
“I beg your pardon?” Julius said, yellow eyes widening. “Is he aware of the damage such a tactic could inflict to your authority? I apologise, I do not know the Bishop personally, but from what you’ve told me, he has always held the Crown’s rights as part of his divine mandate.”
“He’s aware,” Fourier confirmed with a sigh. “Knowing Jaune, he’s counting on Miklotov catching on before they have the raw numbers. They’d settle outside the council, in which case he’ll get a powerful boost to his credibility, and the crown doesn’t lose any of ours.”
“Can’t Lord Miklotov simply call the bluff?” Julius asked, distaste touching his tone.
Fourier paused, thinking through the implications.
“Theoretically… he could,” Fourier allowed. “Jaune holds the crown's authority too high to weaken it if push came to shove.”
He shook his head. “But that is not the main problem. Jaune is taking advantage of an issue that was already causing controversy. Now that he’s helped enemies find common ground, and even created a faction that’s going to be noticed over time. He’s hit critical mass. Even if he lost his seat right now, or agreed to go against the momentum he’s made, it’d be too late. This church’s faction, these ‘Traditionalists’... they’re united now. They’re not just going to go away.”
Unable to help himself, Fourier couldn’t resist a grim chuckle, at seeing the steadily darkening expression Julius was making.
“I’m sure, Jaune would argue that he was simply being responsible by taking charge of a wild-fire that was brewing. By taking control and leading it through a controlled burn, he can guarantee that the person in charge will agree to settle outside of the council,” Fourier concluded.
“If Bishop Jaune was depending on Lord Miklotov catching on, then Your Majesty discovering early surely isn’t part of his plans,” Julius said.
“It isn't,” Fourier agreed with a grimace. “But that’s more because his worst case scenario really would be destroying the crown’s authority with his own hands. It’d be akin to sacrilege to the man. The fact that he has Miklotov as a safety net, means he doesn’t have to escalate, just the threat is enough. If anything Jaune would be happy I discovered it myself, as it makes that worse case much less plausible.”
“So he’s going to get away with it?” Julius asked, expression turning neutral as he regressed to hiding behind his mask. Fourier suppressed a sigh. His knight was far too careful with his emotions. He looked forward to the day that Julius would be open enough to swear instead.
Though, from what Ferris had told him, that didn’t seem very likely for the man obsessed with knighthood.
“In the short term? He will,” Fourier answered. “This isn’t the sort of act that I’ll be able to dissolve his seat on the council for. However his own policy on a strong crown works against him in the long term.”
He smiled grimly. “He’s convinced me that I don’t want him in a seat of power in the council, and perhaps even inside the church as well. The worst part is that Jaune clearly thinks that I’m too young and inexperienced to rule effectively. By the time I evict him, he’ll have undoubtedly caused a number of changes that he believes I’ll understand the wisdom of in time.”
“In case it needs to be stated, he is wrong,” Julius said with conviction. “As your knight, I’ve seen the amount of time and care you’ve put into ruling. The closest you’ve had to free time are your meetings with Lady Crusch and Sir Ferris.”
He paused, then continued in a softer tone. “More than just time though, I can tell that you have a powerful vision of what the Kingdom can become. You are more than ready to become King, Your Majesty.”
“I suppose, I’ll have to be,” Fourier sighed. “I’ll need to plan to start the sacred rite within the next week.”
“The sacred rite…” Julius said, glancing over to Fourier. “Much is made of it, but I’ll admit, I had never heard of it until I started training to become a knight. And as your knight, I feel somewhat uneasy. I don’t like what little I have heard. You must perform them without your guards, and remain alone in the Cathedral for a week, correct?”
“Mostly correct, yes,” Fourier said. “The Church provides their own guards for the ceremony, as they only allow the most pious to attend such an important event. It’s one of their most important duties. They prevent anyone from entering, with the only exception being sworn knights and attendants.”
“I see. So I’ll be able to attend then,” Julius said, relaxing slightly. “I suppose I’ll simply have to prove that I can protect you myself.”
“Ferris will be there as well, as my attendant, but currently it’ll just be the two of you,” Fourier said gazing at the ceiling. “I still need to talk to Crusch on the possibility of her attending.”
“There’s a possibility she isn't?” Julius asked, raising an eyebrow. “With how close you two are, I would have expected her attendance to be a foregone conclusion.”
“Alas, Crusch has a sense of duty even firmer than I,” Fourier said, smiling, trying to ignore the discomfort in his eyes. He wasn’t about to cry tears of regret for a few days he wouldn’t be able to spend with her!
“Last we spoke, her investigation is becoming ever-more important. It would be difficult for her to find somebody to hand the case to, and could cost the lives of more of our citizens.”
“One could argue, her duty to see the prince formally crowned would out-weigh any case below a civil war,” Julius said quietly.
“I wouldn’t believe that though,” Fourier said, refusing to allow any of his tears to fall. “One of the reasons we are so close is that I do not hide my feelings. Truthfully I already know that the investigation is more important than her attendance. I just…”
“Could Lady Crusch not attend the finale of the ceremony at least?” Julius asked.
“No, even that isn’t a real possibility, I’d need to request just to allow Crusch the ability to attend the ceremony. They’d never allow someone to attend who wasn’t willing to wait through the full process.” Fourier said, dismissing the possibility. “At the very least, she’ll be around to see my actual formal crowning, even if she loses the opportunity to see Volcanica up close.”
Julius glanced at him quizzically.
“From my understanding, most nobles attend the crowning itself,” he pointed out. “Surely she’ll be able to see him there?”
“Yes, she’ll be able to see him, but those present when he arrives are generally given the opportunity to touch his scales.”
“Touch his scales?” Julius repeated. “Why would…? Well, I…”
He paused.
“...ah,” he finally uttered. “Yes, I can see why she might be sorry to miss that.”
Fourier chuckled.
“Of course it’s not quite as simple as being in the capital after I start,” he continued. “Volcanica took several days to arrive for my father’s coronation, and it allegedly took even longer when they tried to contact him during the demi-human war.”
He stopped, mentally counting off the other kings in his head.
“Several of the previous ceremonies have taken as little as… two days, with most of the later ceremonies taking more time. It’s entirely possible that this one will take even longer than a week,” Fourier said, his face darkening. He was already dreading the long wait.
“I’ll be pouring my blood and Mana periodically into a sacred artefact that will call Volcanica to us. The ceremony will conclude when Volcanica responds, and not a moment prior. The only one who can enter and leave are the priests, who will only be collecting food supplies and be rotating in and out, so that as many of their high ranking officials get the chance to participate.”
“Several days together with you and Ferris will not be a dull one,” Julius observed smiling. Then, his face grew more solemn.
“Still, while I loathe to bring the idea up… the last time Volcanica took a week to respond, it caused quite a stir, did it not? Might such a thing happen again?”
Fourier pursed his lips. “You're thinking of the crowning of Ernest, the thirty-eighth king. While it never escalated into a full riot, there was general discontentment after he set the highest record taking just over a week. It may even be worse this time, as Ernest’s ruling is generally agreed to be a mediocre King. Comparisons were inevitably made to Lionel, his predecessor who had Volcanica arrive in only two days, and who is one of the greatest Kings of Lugunica.”
He shook his head. “Not to mention, we’re already dealing with the tensions of those attacks, and the general unease from the loss of the majority of my family. I doubt it would take much more for a full-blown riot to begin.”
“I can hardly imagine the Divine Dragon would put you in such a position, Your Majesty.” Julius said firmly.
“I take it you're looking forward to seeing Volcanica from that tone.” Fourier said, smiling softly.
“It goes without saying,” Julius said enthusiastically. “As one of the three heroes that sealed the Witch of Envy herself, and the protector of our kingdom, I am certainly looking forward to receiving the honour of meeting him by your side.”
“Don’t forget the fact that if he’s late, you’ll have to suffer that riot by my side,” Fourier pointed out amused.
“Do not worry Your Majesty, in such a scenario I will simply have to be up to protecting you and Ferris myself,” Julius said. “With his aid, it would likely be best to leave through the nearest available exit, or create one, and heal any damages as they occur.”
“Can we not talk about throwing ourselves out of a window, or destroying a wall of the cathedral?” Fourier complained, shaking his head. “Especially when it’s multiple stories high?”
“As Your Majesty knows, retreating when one is massively outnumbered is only reasonable,” Julius countered, waving one of his fingers in a circle, causing one of his spirits to rustle his hair in an invisible breeze. “Alo will help us land safely, and any injuries we do incur can be healed by Ferris.”
He smiled slightly, and in that moment, he looked more like a mischievous boy than the finest knight in the kingdom. “It also would give us a great advantage in our escape. After all, few expect such exits from those in tall buildings.”
Fourier tried to keep a straight face, but couldn’t stop a small chuckle.
“That is because most people would break their legs from such a fall, to put it lightly. Even the great Spirit Knight himself won't come out of it unharmed, you're just leaving poor Ferris to heal our wounds. Besides, imagine what would happen if we fell from the sky right as Volcanica arrived?”
“I’m sure the Divine Dragon would understand the seriousness in such a scenario. Many stories abound of his wisdom,” Julius said not deterred in the slightest.
Fourier nodded, accepting the point, “If it does come to that, allow me one final attempt to keep the crowd as calm as possible. I understand that you're in charge of my safety, but I’m in charge of all the priests and citizens myself. Unless, I’m incapacitated, try to simply stay calm and utilise your own charisma as well.”
“Of course, Your Majesty.” Julius agreed, his usual elegance coming back to the fore. “A true Knight will always consider the importance of citizens' safety.”
They walked in silence for a moment, then, just as they were about to reach their destination, Julius said softly, “It is unfortunate that Reinhard will not be able to attend. With the way the Vollachian empire is acting, I doubt we’ll be able to redeploy him to the capital.”
“Another reason I wish I could delay the ceremony,” Fourier agreed. “But in the end, we need to be sure our southern border is secure. It will decrease the chance of anything serious happening on that front while I’m crowned.”
As he reached the doorway, and Julius placed his hand on the handle to open it, Fourier thought to himself.
Best to handle this as soon as possible. The less power Jaune possesses when I begin, the less it will appear our hand was forced. I guess Milkotov is going to get his way after all.