The entire ordeal was tense for Stella, and her role in it was merely to be a passive observer during the trial. She was worried for Hallvar, worried about the Guild, worried about the repercussions that would echo around the kingdom due to the political demise of Cyciphos.
Her family lived as close to the Kovatelli border as was inhabitable, so even the slight hint of war weighed heavily on her mind. Would they send out more patrols to mind Exile’s Pass? Surely Kovatelli would choose a water route rather than a land one, which meant her family was safer than she was.
Stella cleared her head after a sigh. Those concerns were not her problem; they were the problem of the Queen, who was getting settled into a more comfortable chair in a receiving room.
“This will be brief,” the royal stated, even as she was brought refreshments, with tea set out for the three guests. Tea was not known to be a quick drink.
“I will dispense with the royal plural, as it has been a tedious day, and you are all well aware of my station.”
Stella tried to still her expressions, mildly shocked that the Queen would speak casually to them. It was… It should be an honor, but something told the elf that this was more of a scolding than a privilege.
“Viktor, you have made it clear in all complexities of the Guild business except for a formal announcement that Lady Harnell is to be your successor, correct?”
The guildmaster seemed momentarily puzzled; he too had been certain that criticism was first and foremost on the Queen’s mind.
“Yes, Your Majesty.”
“And you both trust that Lady Harnell is capable of maintaining a Guild presence, in its function and secrets?”
The two men agreed, confusion evident at this line of questioning.
To her credit, Stella did not jump or startle when the royal gaze turned upon her once more. She could be steadfast; she was sturdy and competent, even if Her Majesty was terrifying in the way that only royalty could be.
“Will you confirm that you intend to keep necessary secrets, even from those closest to you?”
That felt like a pointed question, especially on the heels of that bed-sharing implication from earlier.
“I do not share secrets with those who are incapable of keeping them, Your Highness, regardless of who they are.”
The Queen nodded, sipping her tea as she looked directly at Stella, who wished she had worn something nicer for this event. These were work clothes.
“Then you should have no issue filtering intended criticism of your employers’ actions from well-deserved insults, and keeping the information to yourself.”
Employers, plural? Insults?
The Queen faced the two men – they shared a sofa with a false distance between them while Stella took the single armchair – and then came the scolding.
“You mean to tell me that my Spymaster and his retired informant servant could not figure out how to encode one single message to my camp in order to educate me of the 5th hero’s situation?”
Stella found her tea to keep busy as the Guildmaster and the Court Mage attempted a response, cut off immediately by the Queen.
“I received reports of the summoning and the subsequent actions of Cyciphos, in detail, but on the subject of Hero Hallvar, I receive nothing? While you were both well-aware of their existence and questionable condition? Or am I to believe that a man who was incapable of communication for months had a luxurious life that was without note or intrigue?”
“Your Majesty,” Anton began, attempting to regain control of the situation – and failing. “I believed that encoding a message would risk suspicion from Cyciphos, if caught, and knowing his stance on Viktor and the Guild, I couldn’t—”
“Don’t discredit my intelligence, Anton. Cyciphos is only capable of using the Armament Cypher. Anything more complex than numbers and he gets bored. Did you forget he does not know languages outside of our nations? Or do you not trust your own informants and staff, that you believed they would turn on you once a King-Consort applied the slightest pressure?”
The Queen waited this time for Anton’s answer. The Court Mage seemed less serene than usual; Stella could not blame him.
If she understood correctly, Anton was also the mysterious Spymaster, and in turn, Viktor was an informant? The Queen used the word retired, which made the distinctions quite confusing.
“I trust my staff. It was necessary to keep the boy hidden from Cyciphos, yes, but from other nations. If any of the other nationals at the summit council intercepted and interpreted my messages, I feared one of our few heroes – of your few heroes – would be taken.”
Anton paused, but the Queen remained silent. He took his cue to continue with grace.
“I knew Hallvar was progressing despite the lack of communication ability; I felt that they could hide easily as a particularly unlucky adventurer. Any other pretense of an occupation did not afford me the surveillance and guidance of the Guildmaster.”
With a vague sense of indignance, Anton finished his statement. “I didn’t—I couldn’t have predicted that the hero would be so lucky as to become unlucky, putting them in the direct sight of the princess, the heroes, and then Cyciphos.”
“It is your job to predict things, Spymaster.”
“Yes, but a luck 6?”
They lapsed into silence while various tea and refreshments were taken. Stella surmised that this particular trio of individuals were very strange together, a stilted chain of power dynamics at odds with the familiarity of time and acknowledgement of competence.
“You have been quiet, Guildmaster.”
Viktor did not waste a moment before his response. “Everything I did was out of selfishness and self-preservation; I had no pretenses that my decisions were the correct ones, Your Majesty.”
“And those selfish decisions served the kingdom?”
The guildmaster looked momentarily uncomfortable, though he didn’t break the Queen’s gaze and answered in a clear tone. “I would be dead if my actions were in conflict with the kingdom. Your Majesty.”
Another silence.
Sometimes Stella felt like a kid, a teen who didn’t belong in this conversation, an imposter in her role as guild staff. If that was the case, then the “adults” here were uncomfortably weird with their secrets and half-spoken concepts.
Regardless, she spoke up in lieu of conversation. “Why did you say employers, Your Majesty?”
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The Queen stared pointedly at the guildmaster, who declined to answer.
“Do either of you wish to speak?”
There was a silent scuffle of eye contact and subtle body language, but no words emerged from it.
“Very well, you are dismissed. Anton, I expect you here tomorrow with the advisors. Viktor, you are always a complicated pleasure – try not to kill anyone else.”
A sharp glance was exchanged between the husbands. It looked like the guildmaster was in trouble again.
Stella stood, but a lady-in-waiting blocked her path.
“I wish to speak to you alone, Lady Harnell.”
With some trepidation, Stella took her seat once more. Well, if she was already in this situation with no easy exit, she might as well take advantage of the information at play.
“Did the guildmaster kill someone?” The elf asked politely, as if it was news suitable for a tea party.
The Queen’s eyes suggested she was trying to read the emotions on Stella’s face. Unfortunately for her, Stella was mostly confused with a mild undertone of shock and acceptance.
“As a person, certainly. In this year, it is unclear, but information suggests yes. I could no more pin it on him than any other deviant.”
“Yet you accused him?”
“His husband is familiar with his ways, but was not privy to that piece of information, even as Spymaster.”
Stella stared into her tea – a lovely white tea with flowery tones – until she understood the Queen’s words.
“You set them up to argue?”
“They acted stupidly, as individuals and a couple, and they can face the consequences of their foolish choices.”
Stella looked at the Queen directly, her question more of a statement than a need for information. “Is this what I am to expect if I become Guildmaster?”
The subtle challenge amused the Queen. “Their circumstances are different than yours. As they require coy perniciousness from each other, so they require unyielding criticism from those above them.”
There was still information needed; Stella repeated her earlier question. “Why did you say employers?”
The Queen answered with her own question. “What do you know of the guildmaster?”
Stella shrugged then grimaced, catching her informality with concern. The Queen seemed unaffected by the motion, or if she cared, she didn’t say anything.
“Very little, Your Majesty. I know that he is selfish, but he applies it in a broader context. Not selfish as in immature like a child, but as if he cares only about what is tangibly his – items and people.”
That was a harsh observation, but it was entirely true. To anyone else, Stella would have given a kinder assessment, praising the guild and the work the guildmaster has accomplished.
But this was the Queen.
“I know of your vague information – you said a retired informant, thus connected to the, uh, Spymaster Mage. And—”
Stella hesitated, unsure if this was information she needed to speak aloud. Surely the Queen knew; her involvement was sewn into the statement, her unseen hand on the verdict.
“He said once, as a warning, that he had been convicted of treason. It was a brief explanation of why the King-Co— of why Cyciphos hated him.”
The Queen set down her tea, preparing to give a statement more serious than her scolding of the men earlier.
“Your guildmaster was a Fyrmannic spy, caught and in-lieu of death, chose to serve the Kingdom under the direct control of the Spymaster. He is bound by the Rules Mage, not merely under observation. His station of guildmaster was one earned through and permitted by proper conduct.”
Stella blinked at the royal, admittedly surprised but not entirely shocked. This information fit together like a puzzle, filling in gaps of knowledge that the elf was unaware she possessed.
Viktor killed people. That was… let’s face it, his set of skills and magic had no use in competitive dueling. Even if Stella was not able to directly see his abilities without permission, she knew by experience that the particular status conditions Viktor inflicted were considered “cowardly” choices for a Duelist Fighter to use.
The ones that limited attributes were considered fine, but sheer paralysis? No. It was outright banned from arenas for making the competition boring.
Yet it was the guildmaster’s first choice of affliction consistently. It was rare that Viktor needed to use his abilities on anyone, let alone with an audience, but Stella was present for most private conflicts in her duty as second-in-command.
She knew what he did. She always did. Even without her awareness 20, she could see who exactly the guildmaster was.
A clever tool of the Court Mage – willing, albeit brackish, both salty and unpleasant at times – who in turn served the Queen.
Stella internally pinned up the red string on her board of schemes, making silent connections as all her understanding fell into place.
The Queen controlled Anton, who controlled Viktor, who held authority over Stella and Hallvar. And—
“You wish to control Hallvar through me.”
To this, the Queen laughed. It was a thin, nasally sound, as if she tried to contain her amusement before it escaped.
“No, Lady Harnell.”
“Stella. If you want me to compete with the same rank as the guildmaster or the Court Mage, then my first name will suffice moving forward, Your Majesty.”
“A name change will not raise you to their rank.”
“It won’t, but I’m expecting to speak with you more frequently, Your Majesty, so as you changed to casual wording earlier, so should I.”
“Very well,” the Queen conceded. She had a fondness for strong-willed individuals, as was clear by her retinue and staff.
“Stella, I have no intentions of controlling Hallvar. It is dismissive of your capabilities to suggest your presence here is reduced to a man’s keeper, important as they may be.”
The elf felt her face grow hot, embarrassed and equally prideful. That was a compliment to her abilities, even if it was wrapped up in Hallvar’s name. She asked the question that had been weighing on her mind since they stood outside the guild watching the carriage leave.
“Why did you know my name, Your Majesty? I can’t imagine that you speak directly to the guildmaster often.”
“Are you looking for compliments?”
Stella flushed more, immediately trying to correct herself in case it insulted the Queen. The royal, however, held up a hand to stop her stammering apology.
“I suggest you practice verbal jousting with your guildmaster more frequently. It will serve you well to apologize less while parrying social strikes. Wit can derail unwanted dialogue; your beauty and status as an elf will do the rest, if you learn how to manage it properly.”
“I—” Stella did not know how to proceed. She was thrown so off-balance by the Queen’s commentary that she couldn’t come up with the correct response.
“I will recommend that Morozov and Windhelm arrange time to educate you on these nuances of socialization. You are from Fairfront, correct? You have done well to learn how the capital operates, but you lack the training of nobility. We will fix that.”
“I don’t understand, Your Majesty.” Stella managed to say, looking down at her tea even as the Queen gave her… assignments? Tasks to complete?
“You are a competent Sage with both the Archivist and elementalist subclasses. The former requires intelligence and understanding of greater complexities beyond the exact information placed in front of you. Elementalism is, to my understanding, a set of magics that are easy to attempt and increasingly difficult to master due to their unpredictable nature.”
How did the Queen know this? Was—Had Viktor told her? Or Anton? Was there a system mage who spied on Stella for this information?
“Ignoring Viktor himself, the guildmaster of the Adventurer’s Guild – a highly prestigious role in any kingdom or nation – has selected you to be his eventual replacement. While I do not know your exact age, you are not above 40, nor below 25. You are still very young to have accomplished as much as you have. Your status as an elf has helped you, yes, but you did the work required to bring you to this point in time.”
Stella was happy with the praise but she couldn’t help but feel woefully overwhelmed by how much the Queen knew about her. Stella was just a girl from a rural farm. Smart, yes. Hardworking, yes, but she was… just… her.
Yet the Queen thought she was remarkable.
“Your work building the Guild into an institution that supports the community has not been unnoticed. The guildmaster does not like people. I am under no false assumptions that he is the one who organizes clean-ups after storms and ensures that requests are made and fulfilled in time to supplement upcoming festivals and balls.”
The Queen continued, watching Stella smolder in her emotions, feeling acknowledged and appreciated to an embarrassing extent.
“If a merchant tells another of their gratitude for the Guild’s business, then the noble funding the supplier hears that their trade was supported by the Guild. It becomes gossip, whether phrased to be good or bad, and makes its way to me.
I hear that Mister Bontlay’s affair has been detracting from his ability to run his company, so much so that the Guild needed to step in to help – but I know that the Guild doesn’t interfere unless you are involved, Stella. As you said, Viktor is selfish. He will not act to help others unless you insist… or do so without his knowledge.”
“I didn’t realize how much you noticed about me,” Stella said quietly, trying to wrangle her own wit back into order, even as her mind wanted to happy-bawl out of sheer recognition and validation.
“I sincerely hope you grow more exceptional with time, Stella Harnell. The Guild functions in tandem with Saltkrow and our governance. I wish to remain on good terms with you, for the good of the present and the future.”
Stella stood as the Queen began to rise, signaling the end of this meeting.
“Of course, Your Majesty. I’m honored. I hope to speak with you again soon, under better circumstances.”
The Queen merely nodded as she left the room, escorted by her guard and lady-in-waiting.
Stella felt overcome by emotion as she watched, politely urged by a servant to follow. She wiped tears from the corner of her eyes and grabbed her staff from where it stood by the doorway.
The servant informed her that she was going to the library, which lifted her mood immediately.
She knew she wanted to check on Hallvar, but grabbing a few books to read sounded incredibly promising. After all, her requests for entry had been denied for years.