Gisemere Wranbanise sat atop the golden throne of Orvesa. There was rarely a time when the king was not in the grandiose throne room. Even small meetings like this one found him seated on the golden throne far above everyone else. Today, he scowled down at two members of the high council.
“A woman,” Gisemere said. “You are telling me, Christof, that you saw a woman, in a tea shop, in a backwater town, wearing the Ring of Proving?”
“Yes, your majesty,” Christof replied. He was an elegant man with silver in his hair, but he paled when addressed with such malice by the king. The large birthmark on his cheek seemed to grow darker in his fear. “I know the ring and I am sure…” Gisemere waved him silent.
“We already know who that fool in Bellon is trying to use to take my throne. The boy. Where is the boy, Christof?”
“I…we are searching, your majesty. We are close. Nearly every guard in Aurelia has the description. And we have spent a small fortune on mercenary bands.”
“And yet you stand before me with reports of nonsense.” He stood and walked down the marble steps. “I think an example may be necessary soon.”
“An example, your majesty?” Christof whispered.
“Yes. A few public whippings. Perhaps a hanging. That should provide the proper motivation.”
“That will not be necessary, your majesty. I will find the boy within the week. I assure you.”
“Good,” the king purred and then turned to the other man in the room, who looked to be trying to make his already slight frame smaller. “And what pressing news do you bring before me, Davos?”
“It is the farmers, your majesty,” Davos began weakly.
“Again with the farmers. I am tired of hearing about the farmers.”
“I am sorry, your majesty, but harvests have been falling steadily for years, and now the crops are failing in the fields and the livestock yield is less than it has been in a generation. And not just here, it is affecting all of Aurelia. If this continues, we will see famine.”
Gisemere nodded thoughtfully as he paced in front of the two older men.
“Alright,” he said finally. “I understand.” Davos nearly collapsed with relief. “See that the farms give a quarter more for the royal stores.”
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“A quarter…more, your majesty?” Davos asked.
“Yes, if famine is possible, we need to be sure we are prepared, yes?”
“Um, yes, your majesty. But what of the people?” Gisemere waved a hand and returned to his throne.
“They will fend as they always have, of course. Now leave me, I must prepare for this assembly from Vintera. Mages,” he said with disgust. “It is a pity we need them, but we all do what we must.”
Later, in a dark passage deep in the heart of Wranbanise Castle , Davos nervously waited. Christof and a woman finally joined him.
“What is this Davos? What could be so important you pull us from our beds?” Christof asked. Davos looked around the passage nervously.
“I…I wanted to discuss the king.”
“The king?” The woman, Ambris, said doubtfully.
“Yes. I think,” the small man hesitated, the bare torchlight dancing off his glass beads. He took a deep breath before he continued. “I think we made a mistake.”
“A mistake,” Ambis said, as if she was tasting the word.
“Yes. The land, the people, something is wrong. I think it is the false king.”
Christof hissed.“Beware what you say, Davos, even here, or you will see us all to the hangman.”
“Do you have a solution to this problem?” Ambris asked. “Or did you just want to risk our necks to voice your opinion?”
“There is the other. The boy.”
“You are speaking treason.” Christof said and Davos withered before him. “But you may not be wrong.”
“It would not be difficult to replace the king with an actual Wranbanise,” Davos said. “We can simply say we have found a true heir, and Gisemere has stepped aside. The ring will do the work of proving our claim.”
Ambris snorted. “You are forgetting we have neither the boy nor the ring. And it is laughable to assume Gisemere would step aside peacefully.”
“Christof knows where the ring is,” Davos continued. “And with the ring, Gisemere will have no choice but to step aside, or risk death attempting to prove he is a true Wranbanise.”
“Is this true, Christof?” Ambris asked. “Do you know where the ring is?”
“I know where it was. I could attempt to follow that trail, but if Gisemere were to find out, he would be displeased.”
“Leave the king to me,” Davos said. The other two looked at him skeptically. “The king has the assembly of mages to keep him busy for now, and after, I plan on presenting him with enough worried land owners to keep him busy for weeks.”
“You risk your life in this as well, then,” Christof said.
“I believe we all risk much more if he is allowed to stay on the throne.”
“Alright,” Christof nodded. “If you truly intend to see this righted, then I need you to do one thing more. Get me in contact with Lord Entoris of Bellon.”