Chapter 130 – Roundabout Visit
She had expected that the princess she sold out would eventually discover the person that delivered her back to the demesne of the Maltius La Fende.
So here she was on a ship that was no less bastardy and unkempt than she could imagine. Her previous sky ship was rather comforting than the current one. She found the new metal-made cruisers to be loud and uncomfortable. She doesn’t know how such things were made so fast. But she just assumed that they were made by the people who introduced the new age of technology pushed she has been hearing about.
“By what’s good in this world, when will that thruster noise go?” She said to the maidservant standing still. The maidservant raised her face. “I am sure that it wouldn’t take long now, madam.”
“Hopefully,” she briskly looked at the white marble towers scraping the clouds. The widened highway and the skyways were completely visible to her naked eye. “The Maltius La Fende Demesne,” she muttered. “Father used to say wonders about this place. How it is a realm of difference compared to the Freelands or the Midland. But now seeing that this Demesne is nothing but one of the many cities. I begin to see why they would build tall walls to protect this place.”
She looked at the city again. If she wasn’t worried about the princess of the demesne possibly shooting her head, she probably enjoyed the scene fully as the sun caresses her face. She appreciated the view but the nearer the cruiser approaches the landing platform. The more she became a pious woman.
Her maidservant fell near in her. “Would you like some tea, milady?” she said, with a faint smile on her. She looked at her maidservant with a rather bland face. “Might as well,” she slumped her shoulders. “At least I’d die knowing that I drank my favorite tea.”
“Very well, miss.” said the maidservant, walking back inside the ship while the thrusters of the ship slowly kissed the lip of the landing platform. The ship rattled for a moment, but nothing that she couldn’t handle. She looked at the platform. The crew marched to the ship carrying tools, and there were two walkers standing by, overlooking the ship.
She had seen walkers in Avilla when they were introduced. But comparing them to the walkers she was seeing, they were much refined and the finely welded metal plating of the walkers, along with two barrels of what she could recognize as a machine-gun. There were also tubes above the cockpit of the walkers. If she heard the crew right, then those would be the launchers. She doesn’t know what they do but she sure can tell it would end up badly.
“Your tea, Miss,” said her maidservant. She looked at the mug and took it. She sipped on it, asking. “So when are we allowed to escape from this noisy piece of a vessel?”
“The crew said that they need to make sure that the vessel is secured,” the maidservant answered. She looked at the mug of tea, turning her head to the crew who was scuttling about the landing platform.
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It was until the crew was sure that she was led inside the palace. The palace was marvelously decorated and every corridor was clean and tidy. She saw a lot of vases and paints that made question how much they could possibly cost.
She was then told to wait in a courtyard where she entertained herself by stirring a cup of tea. Although she was bold and brave. She still fears death. She wanted to refuse coming here. But the messenger didn’t accept anything other than yes. So she had no choice.
She was alone in the courtyard. Her maidservant was told wait since the meeting would be strictly between her and the princess. So aside from rippling noises of the nearby giant pond surrounding the area, she was sitting. There was only quiet.
That’s why when she saw the figure of a finely dressed young woman in a green flowing gown, accompanied by a pious-looking man that wore a dark robe with the symbol of the Templars on his chest. She stood up, grabbed the edge of her coat and bowed.
“I am Dolce of Alva, it is an honor meeting you formally,” she said. The princess glances coldly at Dolce. There was a hint of seething rage in her eyes which made Dolce uncomfortable. She added. “And pardon me, for I was only doing what was expected of me. As the Alva and the Templars had been friends. And my role as the daughter of the Lord of Alva expects me to inform them of your location.”
She waited for a reply. “Its fine,” said the princess. “I am Princess Cyra of Maltius La Fende, Lady Enforcer, and the Belladonna of my people. You may raise your head.”
“Certainly,” Dolce said. She looked up and found the cold eyes of the Princess. She ambled near the table. The pious looking man helped her sit down. Then, the pious man turned to Dolce. “I am Abel of the Templars. It is a pleasure meeting the lady of Alva.”
“Is that so?” Dolce said blandly. She sat down and looked at the princess. “You’ve changed Princess. I never knew you could be intimidating.”
“And you know how to change your gears as easily as I do,” Cyra said with a thin smile. Dolce smiled back. “I’ve learned from my father. So, what do you want from me, Princess? I believe that me sipping tea here means that you are not going to execute me.”
“I should,” Cyra laughed. “But I need you to a favor for me. You are the one that sent me here. So might as well make you work hard.”
“Is that so?” Dolce said. “I guess I have no choice in this.”
“You don’t,” Cyra said impassively. “So I need you to listen to what I am about to say.”
“Very well,” she accepted.
Then Cyra told her about what she needed to do. At first, Dolce was casual about it, but as Cyra continues. Dolce’s face hardened with seriousness. She has seen and heard a lot of things for the past months. She changed in odd ways but the things she heard made her usual devilish ego cease.
She wished she didn’t know about the looming threat that possibly might affect the continent. It was too much of a burden, and she was going to help.