- - -
Night had fallen. An ordinary carriage rattled towards the outskirts of the capital, containing no ordinary figure.
Elizabeth peeked out of the window of the car, careful that her hood hid most of her face. Though the houses had grown sparse and the bright lights of the city were fading into the horizon, her ‘informant’ had asked for the utmost secrecy, and knowing what was at stake, she understood the necessity.
“Are you sure about this, my lady?” her knight asked again. The young woman had grown up on the streets, mastered them, in fact, but seemed more nervous than she was.
“Yes,” Elizabeth clenched her fists in her lap. “This is the key. It has to be.”
The only good thing to have come out of her birthday. That simple note, disguised as another tasteless birthday card, yet promising the answer to her life’s quest, was what had carried her through that disgusting party and Valentina’s taunts. She had been suspicious, certainly, but she still believed in righteousness, and that it was finally time for justice to be served. Besides, it didn’t make sense otherwise.
The carriage rolled to a stop. “You’re here, Miss!” the driver hollered.
Clouds filled the sky. A thin layer of frost covered the fields around them, barely visible by the lantern of the carriage and the distant glow of the capital. Elizabeth’s breath fogged in the cold air, and she wrapped her cloak around herself tighter. There were no other buildings in sight, except for the small white chapel they stood in front of.
Her knight gave the driver a large handful of coins, whose begrudging bearing immediately became undying patience for their return. The two women stepped towards the house of prayer.
Its aged brick walls were covered in dead vines, but humble efforts of maintenance were visible here and there. With her eyes adjusted to the darkness, Elizabeth could see the dim, gentle light peeking from behind the shuttered windows. The door creaked when she opened it and closed ominously behind them.
“Ah, Your Highness.”
The interior was old, as expected, but not unclean. Two candles burned on the altar, illuminating the hall warmly. An elderly woman swept the floor next to it. The pews were empty, except for a young man who had sat in the front, who now stood and turned to greet her, a prayer book in hand. Despite initiating this rendezvous, his olive complexion was ashen, and his hazel eyes desolate.
Elizabeth raised an eyebrow and walked down the aisle to meet the man, her knight closely behind. It was him, all right. She had only seen him a handful of times, but she remembered every one of Valentina’s lapdogs.
“Well, High Priest Seaton?”
- - -
Nathaniel took a deep breath. Every part of him felt sick and screamed that he mustn’t do this, betray the lady that had given him everything. Yet deep inside there was a cold peace, solace that he was doing the right thing, and comfort that he had come too far to back out now.
“I’m sorry that this meeting is so unorthodox, but I had to make sure it was completely safe. I know of her ways, and…”
He trailed off, but he met the princess’s eyes and knew that she understood the precautions and potential consequences, if Her Ladyship was to catch any wind of this.
“What of her?” the princess nodded towards the elderly woman.
Nathaniel smiled sadly. “She is an invalid. Her daughter, Layla, used to be my servant at House Avington. She was let go for helping me sneak out, and Her Ladyship made sure no place would hire her. She and her children are now with God. Miraculously, her mother survived the ordeal. I found her after I became a High Priest and moved her here so that she could not be used against me.” Nathaniel gazed towards the ceiling, once more repenting for how his actions had harmed so many innocents. “If that is somehow not enough to convince you that she would not betray us, Your Highness, she is also mute and illiterate.”
“I do not tell you this to ask you to pity her,” Nathaniel swallowed. “I tell you this to show you that… I am with you. I see the ways of Lady Valentina, and I know it is wrong. I want to help you.”
The princess seemed to consider this. Nathaniel held his breath. Please, this was his last hope. The kingdom’s last hope. Slowly, Princess Elizabeth extended a hand. Nathaniel heaved a sigh of relief and shook it.
Stolen story; please report.
“Thank you, Your Highness. We-”
The woman held up a hand. “I don’t like titles. Elizabeth will do.”
Nathaniel smiled, then winced, recalling a boy who had been whipped mercilessly for addressing Lady Valentina improperly, and how she had stressed the importance of his own title to him. It was a welcome relief to do away with them, even temporarily.
“Then please call me Nathaniel as well, Elizabeth. We have much to discuss.”
- - -
“...that is the only way.”
Elizabeth raised an eyebrow, her arms crossed. Skepticism for the priest’s plan would be an understatement. “And why should I believe any of this?”
“You needn’t,” Nathaniel said calmly. “I do not expect you to accept it fully, but I do beg you to keep an open mind, and if you must, to treat it as purely an exchange. As I mentioned in my note, I’m sure you would be interested in what I have to offer.”
He took out a small notebook from his cloak. Elizabeth’s breath quickened, and her hands almost trembled in excitement as he ripped out a page and handed it to her.
She scanned over it quickly. The records were not the most recent, but recalling the activities of the period it described, the activities matched the results of her own research, though in extreme detail, enough to be of incredible substance.
“I could not bring myself to preserve any actual evidence,” Nathaniel said quietly. “If this was discovered, I could've at least tried to explain it as a journal for repentance. But it’s all here. Every crime she has committed that I know of, in as much detail as I would like God to punish us for. Based on that, with your resources, it should be quite easy to gather proof.”
“And I suppose the rest of that book will be in exchange for what you want,” Elizabeth said, carefully storing the sheet like the most precious thing she’d ever beheld. She eyed the journal hungrily. “How do you know I won’t just kill you and take it?”
“Because that would mean stooping as low as Lady Valentina.”
Elizabeth barked a laugh. “Right you are. But why not let me just take it now and publicise it? Is it not a hell of a lot more certain than your proposal?”
“It would not be enough,” Nathaniel said. “Her grasp is too strong. She’d cover it up somehow, and she would know. We have one chance, and we must make it absolute.”
Elizabeth nodded. “You have a point. Of course, if your proposition is practical, that would be ideal. But if I do not find anything by the time limit, you said you will give the book to me anyway? If we fail, she will know it was you, and neither the temple nor I may be able to protect you.”
“My life is of no concern,” Nathaniel smiled wearily. “And yes, I did say so, and I swear it now to God.”
She had never liked the young priest, like any of Valentina’s minions, and while she pitied his circumstances at being apparently an unwilling accomplice, she did not respect his betrayal. Her values were odd, she knew, but she found her brother honourable, though obstinate, for sticking by his fiancee, and the priest despicable, though righteous, for abandoning Valentina. The strange thing was that he seemed to acknowledge it too, in his torn gaze and the casual way he dismissed the possibility of his own doom.
“Very well, then,” Elizabeth said. “I will do my utmost to look for what you asked, and I’ll find a way to let you know.”
Nevertheless, he did seem genuine to justice, or God, whichever he stood for. Elizabeth was a woman of her word and fully intended to carry out her promise, despite her doubts. It didn’t hurt, and if his story was true, then Valentina could really be eradicated completely!
“Thank you,” Nathaniel whispered. “Thank you. May God be with you.”
Elizabeth waved a hand. “Do not waste your blessings on me, Nathaniel. If god were with us, Valentina would not be.”
With that, she headed out of the chapel.
The cold air felt refreshing instead of sharp. Elizabeth took a deep breath. For once, the future seemed bright. The clouds had parted.
Moonlight poured over the fields. It felt like a promise, that at last goodness would be restored to the kingdom of Orilon. Elizabeth smiled.
- - -
Nathaniel fell to his knees and buried his head in his hands.
God, what had he done?
Alas, it was not God that he felt penitent towards, but the House of Avington. In serving God, he had turned against the only ‘family’ he had ever known, the ones who had given him everything, and condemned himself as detestable in his eyes. His sin may not be as grievous as those committed by Lady Valentina, but his virtues were just as awful. Well, despite his efforts to limit his impact, he had also helped her in her ploys, albeit involuntarily, so he supposed it was not too great of a fall after all.
“God forgives,” he whispered. “But she must see the error of her ways! I pray that she does, before it is too late.”
Nathaniel murmured a prayer and felt a comforting hand on his shoulder. He turned to see the elderly woman smiling kindly down at him. In spite of the circumstances, whenever he spoke of Lady Valentina to her patient ears, she never expressed any contempt for the girl in her countenance, merely a gentle sadness at the loss of her family. He only wished that Lady Valentina could let go of her greed just as easily, and Elizabeth of her hatred towards the former. While more than justified, such ill will made him sick.
Nevertheless, this was what he had chosen. God’s will, over his personal loyalties. It was the right decision. The proper one. In the grand scheme of things, his debt was nothing. His sacrifice could help the kingdom for ages to come. That was, if they succeeded.
Yet he knew that even if God forgave him for carrying out justice, he would never forgive himself for his betrayal.