13Leaving the Kingdom
"Tighten up those lines! Keep pushing! Hold, men! Hold!" Erec's voice projected loudly over the battlefield. Still, it only reached the soldiers in the back. Those on the front lines couldn't hear anything over the clashing of swords against armor, flesh, and steel.
Cursing, Erec turned his horse and directed the roan stallion to gallop down towards the crumbling line. The soldiers struggling to hold their formation were being quickly overpowered by the Gascony squadron that was beating down on them mercilessly.
Erec knew he should have assigned more troops to this group. They were the central group, trying to draw the Gasconites into their territory so that two other squads could flank in around on either side and trap them in a kill box.
However, he had misjudged how many soldiers he would need to put into the center group to keep the lines strong when his force was broken into a third and facing the full might of one being pushed down on them. Even while actively retreating, trying to draw them in closer towards the designated area wherein they would spring their trap, his people were beginning to die too fast.
If the center group disbanded or was overpowered, the two flanking groups would lose the advantage given to them by trapping the Gascony squadron. While being attacked on two fronts was also a difficult prospect, it gave the Gasconites too easy an opportunity to escape.
Barking out more orders, Erec threw himself down from his horse. He passed the reigns off to the man who rode beside him. Rainier was a high knight, many years Erec's senior. He had lost the last two fingers of his left hand in a previous battle of the war. He appeared grizzled and tough, like a bear. He had accompanied the young prince as a wiser, more experienced adviser for the military campaign. Erec was the leader, by birthright, but all of his decisions were filtered through Rainier first.
The older man pulled the horses back as Erec ran forward to join the battle itself. If this squadron needed men, then he would add his body to the fray. He wasn't alone long. Only long enough for Rainier to threw both sets of reigns to one of the many squires that were milling about behind the front lines and join with his prince once again.
Though Erec was more skilled than Rainier, in experience he was far his junior. On active battlefields, it was often the latter that mattered far more than the former. War wasn't at all as neat and ordered like sparring fights in the training hall.
War was dirty, underhanded, and unclean. There was a stink of desperation and blood in the air that didn't exist in carefully structured rooms. When faced with death as the punishment for loss, the men who fought here would rather abandon their morals and stoop to lows that they normally wouldn't condone in less stressful circumstances.
Twice today, Erec nearly had dirt thrown into his eyes. He wore protection for his groin that was often the only thing saving him from severe pain or being made into a eunuch. Grown men spit into his face and pulled his hair like children. They would do anything they thought necessary in order to survive another day. It was a lesson that no classroom would ever have been able to teach.
However, he was still skilled, and he was a fast learner. The dirty tactics of war began imprinting themselves on his memory and his fighting style adjusted itself accordingly. When he pushed his way to the front lines, with Rainier at his back, he was a force to be reckoned with.
After the first battle in Jorives, Erec had puked himself dry. While he had remained mostly calm in the actual fight, once it had finished and the lives he had taken began gripping his soul, he hadn't been able to control the loss of his stomach.
Now, after so many weeks of being here, it almost seemed too easy. It was beginning to worry him, in the dead of night, how little he cared for the lives that he was taking. The face of the first man whose life he had claimed was forever burned into his head. His unknown face crying out in pain, his nameless body lying on ground trampled by an army's worth of boots.
They fell too easily now. He couldn't even remember what the most recent man had looked like.
He was single-minded. Focused. His entire being and purpose had focused only on pushing back against the lines coming against him. While, at the same time, drawing them backwards. He and his men continued the organized, slow retreat.
The Gasconites didn't realize they had been pulled into a kill box until it was too late.
Erec's soldiers were practiced and uniform as the other two squadrons began moving in and around, encircling the singular squad of Gasconites. The maneuver, learned by Erec through Rainier, was a method to trap and strangle an enemy, converging on him from all sides. Cut off all escape routes and eat away at them from three different angles until your squadrons all met again in the middle.
Erec knew the moment it began happening. His eye was able to detect the subtle differences when the Gasconites movements changed from frenzied and purposeful, to panicked and afraid. The pitch of their cries changed as well. It wasn't a bellowing roar. The sound went higher as men at the back realized that they were suddenly on the front line.
Rainier grabbed Erec's shoulder then and pulled him back.
He went without issue. He had learned not to fight Rainier, especially not when they were actively fighting. The older man had already saved his life more than once.
It wasn't until they were escaping the back of the squad, barely needing to move as the group altered their retreat, that Erec realized how hard he was breathing. He was bleeding from three different places on his arms and leg, and sweat made his hair stick uncomfortably to his head and neck. He reached up with his hand to wipe it away and smeared dirt and blood across his forehead.
"Look," Rainier gestured with his chin.
Erec turned, still breathing hard. The line that had previously been crumbling, now with the other two squads converging, was moving forward without his assistance. He would have to remember to better distribute his men next time, but it was already clear by the rapidly diminishing number of Gasconites in the kill box that he had won this battle.
"Victory is yours, my prince," Rainier inclined his head to him, his shaggy gray and brown hair falling forward into his face as he did so.
"The victory isn't mine until I see the officers dead or in prison." Erec had already learned the dangers of prematurely celebrating. Doing so in the past had earned him the long scar that was still healing down the left side of his chest.
Rainier smirked, rather proud of his pupil. It was obvious to his wizened eyes who would win this fight. The number of Gasconites had already been cut by half from the start of the battle. However, Erec did not have the experience necessary to recognize it as he did and the caution he showed was preferable to blind confidence.
The battle had begun near dawn. It was already late into the afternoon. The sun hadn't yet begun to set, but no doubt it would be doing so by the time the remainder of the Vasconian troops had marched back to the base camp that had been set up around the outer gate of Jorives.
As men began surrendering, the battle began winding down and Erec finally relaxed. Prisoners were taken. Those who wouldn't put down their weapons were killed. His men began cheering and he allowed their celebration as they marched back to their tent city.
He did not join them, however.
"What's on your mind, Erec?" Rainier asked as they rode together, side by side, back towards the city and the precious amenities that would await them there. Jorives was never short on food or water thanks to their proximity to the river. The Vasconians had a clear advantage in that regard over the Gasconites that had managed to make it to this region.
The prince frowned. "Rainier... How did you not lose yourself to the brutalities of war?"
The other man smirked. The two of them had long past moved on from formalities, which made asking such personal questions easier. "What makes you think I didn't? War strips souls from men. It steals your humanity. That is the price for surviving a war."
"I see." Erec frowned down at his horse. It wasn't the answer he wanted, but it was an honest one. An honestly terrifying one.
"You're doing well. Some men go mad. That you feel guilty about your, well, lack of feelings is a good sign. It helps when you have something to focus on. Something far from all of this."
Erec grinned. The first day he had met Rainier, the older man had asked him what he was fighting for. Nina's name had immediately fallen from Erec's lips. Instead of mocking him or brushing it off as romantic drivel, Rainier had nodded in approval.
Someone you loved was good to focus on, he had said. It gave you a purpose and a reason beyond simply surviving. The men who had no other desires but to live no matter the cost, those were the ones most likely to lose themselves.
For Rainier, it was his wife that had been with him for nearly two decades. She waited for him in Gwenael and would send letters to him as frequently as she could.
The only correspondences that Erec received from Nina were military reports. Still, it was nice to see her short, efficient handwriting on the tiny messages. He also knew that, often, it was Sybille that kept in contact with the various military leaders through the warfront. That it was instead Nina doing it for him actually made Erec feel special, in an odd way.
The tent city made for Erec's army was built outside and around the outer wall of Jorives had become a ramshackle bustling town, in a way. The people of the city proper often came through, and the soldiers were always welcome within the town. However, Erec hadn't wanted to burden the people by forcing his men into their houses when they would be staying for a great deal of time. Mayor Pepin had offered a room in his manor to Erec, but he had declined it in favor of staying with his men.
If they were going to fight together, then they should live together. He knew that he had made the right choice when Rainier had nodded approvingly at hearing his decision. As the crown prince, his tent was slightly more comfortable than the standard soldier's, but that was to be expected. Not just from him, but from the soldiers in general.
As they came to the tent city, Erec and Rainier dismounted and began leading their horses by hand. Each man had a servant, young men either about to become men, or having just cusped into manhood, that took the reins from them so they could take the horses to be brushed down, fed, and watered.
Erec ran a hand through his hair. The sweat had dried during the ride back, but now he felt itchy and uncomfortable. At least the surplus of water meant that they never needed to suffer in filth. He would probably have a bath already waiting for him in his tent. He didn't even ask for it, the people that tended to him and his tent just did it.
Rainier left him to go to his own tent, but Erec wasn't alone long. As he came closer to his tent, a man separated himself from the shaded area where he had been standing in wait. Erec blinked as he approached before a smile came over his face.
"Gael. How did you know that I needed you?"
The priest assigned to Erec's troop grinned. "I just had a feeling. Also, I saw you coming in and you looked like you were carrying the weight of the world while your soldiers were cheering. You won, did you not? Why do you look so down?"
Erec sighed, rubbing the back of his neck as Gael looked at him through stunningly bright green eyes placed under a head of golden blond hair. He was wearing white robes, marking him as a priest, that covered his body from neck to wrist, and all the way past his feet. In all the time Erec had known him, Gael had never shown more of his body than his face and hands.
He was on the shorter side for a male, a few inches short of Erec's height. However, his stature only served to make him seem even more unthreatening and peaceful. He constantly had a smile on his youthful face, and he had never raised his voice in anger in Erec's memory. He walked slowly, as though never hurried, and he spoke softly, as though to make you listen.
Gael was poised to be the next master of the church. He served as the current master's – Master Eneas' – right hand. He was young, but he was devoted to the church and its teachings. As he was going to be master of the church, and Erec was going to be king, it was imperative to the good of everyone that they get along.
Luckily, there didn't seem to be a soul alive that Gael couldn't become friends with. He could become whatever was needed for him to be. For Erec, that was a confidant and a comfort. He was here on this campaign to care for the soldiers. He prayed for them in life and in death and comforted them when grieving or hopeless. He saw to the spiritual health of the lowest foot soldier all the way to Erec himself and he did it all with the same amount of enthusiasm and genuine concern.
From what Erec had heard, Gael had been reluctant to come along. His place was at Master Eneas' side in the Holy Sacellum in Gwenael. He wanted nothing to do with the battlefield. However, just as Erec was trying to prove himself, Master Eneas wanted Gael to gain experience. He couldn't be a good head of the church if he spent all of his life within it. He had to get out, at least sometimes, and remind himself that life wasn't good for everyone.
Gael followed Erec into his tent, closing the flap behind him. Unlike the common soldiers, Erec's tent was large enough to walk through with a separate area for sleeping and a central room where he had a table with two chairs and a map of the general area spread out. The battle plans that he had just enacted were still marked onto that map. And, as he had predicted, there was a large copper tub filled with steaming water in the second side room.
Gael sat down on one of the chairs as Erec began pulling off his armor. Then his clothing. His modesty, at least in front of other men, had been one of the first things he lost while here. The common soldiers bathed in the river with no cover whatsoever. Erec had convinced himself to join them so he wouldn't seem to be a distant leader. It had been initially embarrassing. Now, he didn't even think about disrobing even with Gael being present.
The young priest certainly didn't seem to care. He didn't even blink as Erec set his armor down onto the table, spreading dirt and blood across it.
"Talk to me, Erec," Gael said, his voice low and soothing.
Erec shook his head. "Rainier says it's nothing unusual. I shouldn't worry about it."
"I wouldn't take emotional advice from Rainier." Gael could tell him stories about the horrors in Rainier's past, delivered to the priest through the man's mouth himself. However, those were all told in confidence and he would never repeat them. So, he said simply, "What works for one, might not work for another. You are not Rainier, you are Erec. Tell me what's bothering you."
Erec pulled his tunic up over his head, exposing his chest and the long slash down the left side. The skin was angry red and puckered, healing without issue. However, the scar that it would leave behind would no doubt be impressive.
He paused then, frowning at the blood streaked tunic. "How long have we been here, Gael?"
Gael did a quick mental tally. "Almost three full months. Why? Do you regret coming?"
"No. Is that three months here, or three months since we left Gwenael?"
"Three months here. If you don't regret it, why do you look so regretful?"
"Three months..." Erec let out a long breath, running his hand through his hair in a move reminiscent of his father. "We've been fighting for three months. Gael, I've become desensitized to this, and it's starting to worry me. I couldn't even tell you how many men I killed today. And I just... accept that I've done it."
Gael nodded along slowly. "You fight in the name of your king, with the blessings of the church. You need not worry for the state of your soul, it remains untainted."
"It doesn't feel untainted."
"That's what makes it untainted," Gael grinned at the look Erec gave him. "Funny thing, isn't it? If you had become deadened inside by the blood, or if you took joy in the killing, you would not feel this way. That you still feel guilt means that you are still human."
Erec let out a long breath, walking to the tub. "How can Colette do this and remain so cheerful?"
"Colette is a special case. She finds joy in the fight, though she does not enjoy the kill. It's a thin line she walks, and one that I do not recommend for others. This is an unpleasant job for you, Erec. Your duty is just to get it done."
Gael turned his head, giving Erec some modicum of privacy as he removed his trousers and climbed into the tub. He shuddered in relief to feel the hot water burning across his skin. It had just been freshly boiled, and likely it was too hot to sink into. However, he felt like he really needed the burn. It was cleansing as it washed over his war-torn flesh.
Gael continued once Erec had sat in place. "Shall I write to Sybille alerting her of your victory?"
"I was going to do it later." Erec rubbed his head, trying to think. There seemed to be a never-ending stream of Gascony soldiers thrown at their front lines. He knew that their population was greater, but it surprised him every time an airship brought a new load of soldiers to join in with the encampment of Gascony troops just beyond the horizon towards the mountains.
He knew where they were. He didn't have the manpower to go eradicate them. No, his job was simply to defend Jorives. Colette was in charge of beating back the lines and she had her hands busy further south of here. So long as the soldiers here didn't progress further, Erec was successful. When Colette was able, she would come here to beat them back again.
Afterward, Erec wasn't sure what would happen to him. Maybe he would get to go home. Back to the comforts of the palace, which seemed like a foreign world from this tent.
More importantly. He would get to see Nina again. It felt like an eternity since he had laid eyes on her and each second was longer than the last.
As he ran water and a bar of soap through his hair, which was starting to get too long, he wondered what she would be doing right now. Would she miss him? She had to care at least slightly or she wouldn't take the time out of her schedule to write to him, even if they were just military reports.
Just like Rainier taught him, he was holding onto his humanity through holding onto his memory of her.
"Gael, can you do me a favor?"
"Certainly. What is it?"
"Have Rainier come see me. There was something odd about the fight today. I want to discuss it with him before we go to bed."
Gael raised a curious eyebrow. "Odd? In what way?"
Erec shook his head, frowning. "I don't know. Just... odd. It almost seemed a bit too easy. I want to talk to him about it before I do anything rash though."
The messenger paper wasn't scarlet, which would indicate an emergency. It was plain parchment paper. A group of them all on regular paper, written with neat and elegant handwriting in flawless code. Erec had learned that early on, and he had learned it well.
Though the papers were never red, Nina always felt apprehensive to open them up. Part of her was afraid that she would get a message indicating the prince's death. Such news would, of course, be delivered on scarlet paper. Still, she couldn't help the irrational fear that gripped her every time her fingers started unrolling the normal scrolls that had been wrapped around a bird's tiny leg.
Standing at the head of the large map table in the war room, Nina's only company was her fellow paladin, Sybille. She was the first child and only daughter of the Alard family, one of the most ancient houses in all of Vasconia. Their roots traced back to the founding of Gwenael and they made their riches through the production of geothermal energy harvested from the long dormant volcano.
Sybille's power, an inability for anything to puncture her skin, had been discovered relatively late in life as she had been pampered her entire childhood. Because of that, she had begun learning sword fighting only after becoming a paladin and, despite a paladin's natural skill for combat, she was the least skilled fighter out of all of the paladins.
Her real strength lied in her mind. She was a tactician and a strategist. She had a unique ability to look at situations and see ways through them that others couldn't. Just at the moment, she was walking in a slow circle around the map table, looking at the carved wooden pieces that represented different military commanders, both Gasconite and Vasconian, that had been scattered around the table to correlate with their real-world placement. The table was changed daily based on the reports brought to them by the messenger birds.
Unlike all of the other paladins, Sybille didn't wear clothing that could be fought in. She wore floor length gowns and had a lady's maid that spent an inordinate amount of time applying face paints and fixing her copper blonde hair every morning. She was every inch the high born lady that she had been bred and raised to be and her only concession to her title as a paladin was the sword that she usually carried with her and set down in whatever room she entered. Nina rarely saw her tie it around her waist. She didn't even wear a belt that would allow her to do so.
"How are Erec's troops?" Sybille asked calmly without looking up.
Nina was organizing the strips of paper before her. The entirety of the message had been broken apart so that it could be carried by the birds. Though Nina could read code without needing to transcribe it first, she still had to organize the strips into the right order.
She frowned over their contents. "He's defeated the third Gascony squadron under the command of Lieutenant General Emilien Cesaire."
Cesaire was second in command to General Didier, the very top of the Gasconite army and hand and sword of Queen Sabine. Nina figured that General Didier must trust him a great deal, because he often took command when Didier wasn't present and he was currently leading the progression of the Gasconite forces into Vasconia.
"That's a good thing." Sybille's dull tone reminded Nina simply as she continued to frown at the news of the victory. Sybille reached across the map table and removed one of the carved common soldiers from the region –symbolically removing their entire squad.
That still left nearly half a dozen similar squads left that they knew of under the command of Cesaire at the base camp that had been marked with a wooden tent.
The Vasconian pieces were painted blue, the Gasconite ones were red – reflecting the different colors of their military uniforms.
The placement of troops wasn't just accurate on their side of the barrier mountains though. On the other side, more figures representing various military outposts, leaders, and even the queen herself had all been placed with no small amount of confidence. The spy network that they had in Gascony was unparalleled and the information it brought them kept them up to date on the movements of everyone.
Queen Sabine's figure, a carving of the beautiful queen herself painted all in red, was currently placed at the city of Ambraude, capital of Gascony. Beside her was her son, Jacques. He too had his own personal figurine, but it was only an approximation as no one knew what he looked like any longer. His mother had been very secretive with him since her husband, the boy's father, had died. However, it was well known that wherever the queen went, her son would follow. He was probably reaching adulthood by now.
General Didier also had his own figure. It was currently placed at Antonin Pass, the gateway between the border mountains that connected the two kingdoms. He rarely came into Vasconia itself. Not because he didn't wish to, but likely because he knew that an assassination attempt on him would be the highest priority attack they could possibly have. Why risk it when he had a perfectly trustworthy lieutenant general to send in his stead?
"That's his third troop defeated," Sybille remarked, bouncing the wooden figure she had removed up and down against the palm of her hand.
"Yes. He's doing well."
"You sound disappointed."
Nina frowned, looking up at her companion.
She was closer to Sybille than any of the other paladins just by virtue of seeing her more often. The two of them had similar mild temperaments. Though, from what Nina could tell, Sybille's was near effortless. She didn't have to make the attempt to remain calm no matter the situation and she didn't appear to have nagging headaches from doing so either.
"I'm not disappointed," Nina finally said, picking up the scraps.
"You're doing a marvelous job sounding like it then." Sybille finally lifted her eyes from the map, crossing her arms primly and gazing over to Nina. "What's wrong?"
"Nothing is wrong. Erec is doing well. Reports from Rainier say that he's leading and adjusting well. Cesaire seems to be becoming more cautious. At least he's not beating at Erec's lines unceasingly like he used to do."
"And that upsets you because you fought against him going from the moment he decided to leave?"
"I'm not upset!"
Sybille need only raise an eyebrow at the way Nina snapped.
She took in a deep breath and forced herself to calm down. "I'm glad that he's doing well, and of course I'm glad that Gascony hasn't progressed further. I simply don't..."
"Don't...?" Sybille prompted.
Nina hesitated, unsure of how to explain herself properly. The world seemed to be spinning around her every time she received one of Erec's notes. She was terrified until she opened it up and read that he was, once again, victorious. She had been informed of the injury to his chest that almost killed him by Gael, and it hit her like a punch to the gut. She hadn't slept well again until the next message, in his hand writing, informed her that yet another attempt had been driven back.
He was so far away. He was in constant danger. As far as she knew, Emilien only thought himself to be fighting against a high ranking official. They weren't broadcasting the fact that the crown prince himself had gone to the battlefield. That had been Cyrille's idea, but Nina had fully supported it.
Still, even knowing that he had the advantage of relative anonymity, Nina couldn't sleep at night for worrying about him. She had nightmares that he died and Gascony was left to flounder with Manon taking the throne in his stead. That thought alone was enough to terrify. However, the real fear was of losing the crown prince.
Nina was fully loyal. Since she had been sent here by the regent of the Aqua Isles, her loyalty had never wavered. Though the Aqua Isles were technically their own nation, they remained a territory of Vasconia. She had always considered Cyrille to be her king, and she dreamed of the day when Erec would sit on the throne and she would declare her loyalty to him as she had his father before him.
She fantasized about it sometimes. Promising him loyalty and protection. As a paladin, of course. This was her destiny, decided by the Lord on her birth. It was why He had given her the power of speed, marking her as a chosen paladin. She was meant to serve the church and the king. It was only natural that she be so concerned about Erec.
Nina realized too late that Sybille was still waiting for her to finish her statement. She shook her head, bringing the military messages to a small candle and burning them to ash. It was the standard procedure for all messages.
"It's nothing. I'm just worried for my future king."
"Of course." Sybille nodded solemnly. "It is worrisome, but I'm glad."
"Glad?"
"Our future ruler is coming into his own as a leader. By all accounts, his men trust him, he works hard, and he isn't afraid to do jobs other nobles would consider beneath their station. He's building a name for himself that he would never have created here in the palace. More than that, he's earning the loyalty of the men under him and their families. It's not always enough to be the ruler by birthright. You have to prove yourself capable, and he is."
"Yes. It's a great thing."
"You sound disappointed again."
Nina frowned at her, turning to walk to the door. "I'm going to go speak to Felicie."
"Ah, is she back in the city?" Their fellow paladin had been off seeing to the defenses around the border mountains, especially around South Gate and Gy-Hamelin, the two other entry points into Vasconia aside from Antonin Pass, which was already occupied.
"She's brought news from our spy."
"Wonderful. Have her send me a message so I can update my information."
"I will." Nina opened the door and stepped out, grateful to be away from the conversation.
Felicie, one of her sister paladins, was one of the more inventive of the paladins. She had created a hand sized canon and was busy trying to refine the design into something that could actually be used in battle as the current one was clunky, took too long to reload, and was very inaccurate. Since she was a master of the bow, accuracy was something she desired. Especially with her ability to adhere her body to anything, and climb walls in that fashion, she preferred hitting her targets from afar.
She wasn't staying in Gwenael long. Only long enough to rest, resupply, and get ready to take her army out again. The messages she brought from their spy in Gascony had probably been smuggled to her in Gy-Hamelin, a large and popular trade hub.
Despite Nina's apprehension towards allowing Erec out to fight, there were still a great many duties for her to see to here. She didn't get to rest or take breaks. There was always something that she should be doing and someone around to remind her of that.
She was no longer seeing to the prince's training, yet it seemed like the lack of his presence only made more work for her. Not just because she had to concern herself with sending supplies to his branch of the military now, nor just because she had to worry about him. Without him around to provide her something easy to keep her mind off of everything else, the headaches were able to get worse.
A few days after hearing of his most recent victory, she forced herself to go see Master Hubert. He was the private physician for the paladins, and a very kind man. He admonished her for putting off seeking aid for her headaches for so long even as he was writing down what mixture he wanted her to pick up from the apothecary.
The powder tasted foul, but she mixed it into a tea which drastically reduced the taste, though it by no means banished it. An hour later, even though she was trying to get through the mountain of paperwork that waited for her in her office in the palace, she felt herself going to sleep. She realized too late that the headache medication was making her tired.
Annoyed, but realizing that she wasn't going to get any work done with the way that her eyes kept slipping shut, she decided to just return to the paladin's suite. She would read reports while laying down and hope that she got through at least a few of them before the medication took her.
No sooner than she had stepped out of her office than she ran right into Odilon. The young lord had been walking with a stack of papers in hand and, when she hit him, they went flying all over the hall as he fell back onto his bottom with a thud.
"Lord Yvain!" Nina cried out, blushing hotly. "Oh, I am so sorry!"
"Evening, Nina," he chuckled, grinning up at her. "Nice to run into you."
Nina offered her hand to help him up, which he took with a smile. He brushed at the seat of his black pants as she scrambled to pick up the papers she had caused him to scatter.
"I'm so sorry. I shouldn't have come running out like that."
Odilon kneeled down and began assisting her. "Don't worry about it. Life wouldn't be fun without some surprises, hm? Why were you throwing yourself out of your office, if you don't mind me asking? Has something happened?"
"I hope not." Nina stood, adjusting the papers she had grabbed into a neat stack. Just in looking at the top one, she could discern that these were shipping reports to the various military troops that he was supplying to. She passed them back to him with a frown. "I was just in a hurry to get back to the suite. I took some medicine for my head and now it's making me tired."
"Ah." Odilon nodded in understanding. "Well, that's a relief. I start to get worried whenever I see one of you paladins running around. It's usually bad news."
"Are you here to see the king? He's not here right now. He went down to attend the funeral of a lord, uh, something or other. I can't remember the name right now, sorry. I think he's due back tomorrow."
Odilon chuckled at her. "Yes, I know. Actually, I was coming to see the queen. She's rather busy since Cyrille is out of town. I was helping her with some requisition orders that I need signed sooner rather than later. I, er, can't seem to find her though. Don't suppose you know where she is?"
Nina had to think for a moment. Not because she didn't know, but the drug in her system was making it rather hard to focus. "She should be with Manon. They're having dance lessons today. In the empty fifth floor sitting room, I think."
Odilon frowned. "I actually don't know where that is. I'm sorry to bother you, but do you think you can take me there?"
Nina smiled at him. "Seems a fair trade after I attacked you so suddenly."
Odilon chucked, falling into step with her. "I do think I'll survive, my lady. I may not be a paladin, but I don't think I'm so easily broken. Oh, by the way, is Felicie still in Gwenael? I was hoping to catch her before she left the city again."
"She doesn't leave for another three days. Why?"
"It's about her hand canon. She was asking me for help in her design."
"You?" Nina looked surprised. "Forgive me for saying so, but I didn't realize that you were creatively, or inventively minded, Lord Yvain."
"Oh, I'm not," he chuckled. "However, I'm in contact with more than a few blacksmiths, artisans, and woodworkers. I help many creators transport their works throughout Gwenael. She wanted me to help her find someone who can assist her."
"I see. And did you?"
Odilon nodded. "I think I might have. I do believe that Ferrant could be of assistance. He has a great mind for creation and invention. Plus, his metal alloy could be a useful addition to the gun's design. It would take the abuse of a shot much better than the current steel we use."
Nina nodded along as though she knew what he was talking about. This sort of thing was well out of her bounds of knowledge, but Odilon seemed interested in it. She followed along in the conversation for his sake, weighing in when she could. Mostly, she kept her silence as she led him to one of the lifts and took him down two stories to the fifth floor.
The palace of Gwenael, the Palace of Grosamadour, was large and often confusing to navigate. Nina had lived and worked in and around this palace for the last decade of her life, and there were still areas of the palace that she was unfamiliar with.
The empty room on the fifth floor had many uses, despite its lack of furnishings. Today, it was a space for Princess Manon to practice her dancing. A pursuit that she had no interest in pursuing and one that her queen mother was adamant she learned.
When Nina and Odilon stepped inside, it was to see the wayward princess with a deep scowl etched into her face as her middle-aged dance instructor took her slowly around the room while a gramophone in the corner played an easy waltz. He took a step forward, and instead of stepping back, she too attempted to push forward and stepped on his foot.
Hissing in pain, he stiffened and bit his lip to avoid crying in pain. Manon smirked just a bit while Queen Radelle, who had been standing on the sidelines, sighed.
"Manon," she snapped at her, "for the last time, you do not lead, he leads!"
"Why can't I lead?" She asked stubbornly.
"Because the man leads."
"That's no logic at all."
"Princess, please," her teacher begged. The poor man looked near tears. From a glance, Nina couldn't tell if they were from pain or frustration. "You have to put your trust in me as a partner to see you through this dance safely. That is your duty as the lady. Mine is, of course, to steer you without fail. We both have our parts to play here."
"Well, why can't we do it the opposite way around?"
"Because that's not how it's done." Once again, it was Radelle's short, clipped voice that answered. The queen was not amused because she knew her daughter was doing this solely to annoy her.
Odilon grinned into the room as the instructor began his counts again. "I beg pardon at the intrusion, Radelle. Is this a bad time?"
"Odilon." The relief was obvious in the queen's voice. She walked quickly towards him, her heels clicking rapidly against the marble floor as the ringlets in her brown hair bounced.
The sound of new voices had caught Manon's attention and she turned curiously over, stopping dead in the middle of her dance and upsetting her instructor.
"What are you two doing here?" She asked, pleased for the distraction.
"You are not done, young lady. Get back to your lesson," the queen gestured in annoyance. "Odilon, are those the papers you need signed?"
"Some of them. They got mixed up with some of my shipping reports I'm afraid." He chuckled as he flipped quickly through the stacks to get a general idea of where everything was. "If you are needed here, I can get them back in order and wait for you to finish though."
"No. No, I'm sure Master Claude can continue without me just fine."
The look on Master Claude's face when the queen declared his capability suggested anything but. He couldn't deny her though.
But Manon could, and she certainly did. She pulled herself from the arms of the dance instructor and turned her mother, irritated.
"Running off again, mother?"
Radelle turned, her eyes frosty as she beheld her daughter. "You are not one who can accuse anyone of running away, Manon."
"And what is that supposed to mean?" The princess crossed her arms angrily.
"There isn't a single responsibility that you don't run from. Then you run off to those degenerates that you gamble with to escape the difficult life that you supposedly suffer from here in the capital. You know, there are girls in Bronze that would kill to be where you are right now."
"What a coincidence, because I would happily trade places with them!"
"Er, should we come back?" Odilon asked awkwardly, shifting his weight between his feet.
"No." Radelle took a step towards him. A small motion that seemed only to anger Manon more.
"If you think I'm going to continue with this ridiculous farce of a lesson after you leave, then you're wrong!"
"Go ahead and run away again, Manon," Radelle sighed over her shoulder. "Every time you run away, you just make it harder for yourself when you return."
The princess growled, taking a threatening step towards her mother. While Nina wouldn't interfere if they were just exchanging angry words, she couldn't allow it to come to blows. As Manon pulled back her tight fist, she stepped between them quickly.
Her headache throbbed as she held her hands up to stop the wild girl. "Princess, please, control your temper. There's no need for this to get ugly."
Manon actually looked scandalized. "Why don't you tell her that?!"
Queen Radelle, the very image of poise and sophistication, turned back to look at her rebellious daughter with carefully guarded eyes.
"One of these days, Manon, you're going to have to stop running and grow up. Now, return to your lesson, I have more important things to do than babysitting you."
"I would rather choke and die than obey these ridiculous rules," the princess promised darkly.
Flying in the face of what the queen had just ordered, she stomped right past all of them and out of the still open door. Odilon turned to watch her go but the queen remained unmoved. Nina walked up beside the queen, frowning at the princess' display.
"Would you like me to fetch her back, your majesty?" She asked, looking to her monarch.
With Manon out of sight, Radelle could sigh, letting her shoulders droop ever so slightly. It wasn't a great change, but for the unflappable queen, it spoke volumes to just how tiring it was trying to deal with her wayward daughter.
"I don't understand what I've done wrong with her."
"You mustn't blame yourself," Odilon shifted the papers so he could reach over and pat her shoulder reassuringly. "Some people are just born naturally rebellious. It seems Manon is one of them."
"What could she be rebelling against? She is given everything she could ever desire. She is loved by her family. She has many friends. Even if I don't approve of most of them." Radelle reached up to rub her temple as though she, too, might be developing a headache. "She takes up the most inappropriate interests. Gambling and fighting and who knows what else..."
"I'll go retrieve her," Nina said, taking a step away.
"Nina."
"Yes, your majesty?" She turned back at the soft call.
"I'm... probably going to ask you to take up the responsibility of Manon's remaining education."
The musing sounded much more like an order and Nina felt an immediate throbbing in her own head at the thought of replacing Erec's complacency with Manon's wildness. She hadn't even found herself with more free time at his loss.
However, she couldn't deny her queen. Her jaw tightened but she inclined her head formally. "As you say, your majesty."
"Well," Master Claude huffed indignantly. "In that case, my lady, I would like to formally hand you my resignation. I can't deal with her any longer! I'm done! Good luck ever getting her to dance!"
It was such a common thing to lose Manon's instructors to frustration and insult that Radelle didn't even fight as the man stormed out.
Nina sighed. She added finding a competent, sturdy dance instructor as the first thing on her new mental list of dealing with Manon.
"I'll go get her before she leaves."
"I'm sorry, Nina," Radelle grimaced.
"I'm happy to take some of the burden from you, your majesty. Excuse me."
Odilon frowned as Nina walked after the princess. "Are you sure, Radelle? Nina does seem to have enough to do even without being responsible for Manon."
"She worked well with Erec. I guess I'm just hoping she can apply that same magic to Manon."
"To be fair, Erec has a much different disposition than Manon."
"I'm not expecting miracles." Radelle forced a smile onto her face. "Now, then, shall we?"
Nina caught up with Manon in the hall leading to her room. The sound of Nina's unhurried steps turned her eyes back. She promptly rolled them as she reached for the latch on her door.
"You don't have to follow me, Nina. I'm just changing out of my dancing shoes, I'm not going anywhere. At least not today. My people aren't doing anything today."
"Ignoring the fact that you have people," Nina started, raising an eyebrow, "didn't you think that maybe I was coming to try and comfort you?"
Manon actually laughed as she walked into her room. The princess' suite was a complete apartment with her own washroom, bedroom, central room, and a nook facing a large window wherein she could take her meals if she wished. The pink and gold color scheme was soft and dreamy, a complete opposite of the personality of the one who inhabited the area.
Manon threw herself down onto the sofa she had placed beside the door that led into her massive closet and immediately lifted her skirts to begin removing her tight dancing shoes. She never liked wearing dancing shoes, they were always so uncomfortable and ugly.
"Really though, why are you following me?" She asked, pulling at the ribbon ties.
Nina crossed her arms. "You were very rude to your mother just now."
"Yeah, well, she was very rude to me, too. That's how our relationship goes. The only times we don't fight are when we're in front of papa, and that's only because he gets depressed."
"So, you care for your father's feelings, but not your mother's? That makes sense, of course. Your mother only gave birth to you and raised you from infancy. What reason do you have to care for her?"
Manon dropped her bare feet down onto the soft carpet. She grinned as she tossed her shoes away to be picked up by whomever would be cleaning her room later.
"Do you get along with your mother, Nina?"
"We exchange letters," was all Nina replied. It was enough.
Smirking, Manon stood and padded barefoot towards the paladin. "Then you understand. Everything she wants for me is nothing that I want for myself."
"She wants what's best for you."
"And what makes her an authority on what's best for me?"
"What makes the queen an authority?" Nina asked dully.
Manon rolled her eyes. "You know what? Never mind. I can't believe I'm trying to get a paladin to understand my position here."
Nina followed the princess into her dressing room, leaning against the doorframe as she walked to her shoe rack to pick out something more comfortable to wear.
"Just so you're aware, your mother has now put me in charge of your education."
Manon chuckled darkly, looking over her shoulder. "Good luck."
"I will say the same to you. You'll find that I'm not nearly the same kind of task master as your mother. Disobey me, and I'll make you regret it."
Manon turned, shoes in hand. "I know that you're used to being Erec's keeper, but I'm not my brother. You and I are only going to give each other headaches for the next few months until you give up, then I'm going right back to mother and we will proceed to continue the fight we've been waging for years now."
"Or, I'll break you. Whichever comes first," Nina grinned. "It shouldn't take me long to find you a new dance instructor. Then, we'll play your game and see who wins."
Manon chuckled as someone knocked on her door. "Indeed, we will. Who is it?"
"Messenger service!" A young girl's voice called back, just a bit nervously. "I-I was told that Lady Paladin Benoite is here?"
Nina moved to the door and opened it curiously. The red strips of paper held in the girl's little fist immediately hit her gut like a punch. Nina had difficulty catching her breath as the young girl lifted her hand up and opened her palm, the strips rested there like a snake waiting to bite.
Manon gasped softly as she came peeking around Nina's arm. "What's it say?"
Nina reached out and plucked the strips from the girl's hand. She frowned as she lifted them up and began reading them quickly. They were out of order. They were making no sense. The writing wasn't Erec's neat penmanship, it was a rushed and frantic scrawl.
Nina gasped as she re-read the message twice. "Erec's been taken prisoner!"
"What?!" Manon grabbed her arm desperately.
Nina shook her off and rushed past the child. She ran desperately down the halls of the palace, realizing only as she was nearing the stairs that the princess was running after her, bare feet softly thudding against the rugs thrown over the polished marble.
"Get back to your room!" Nina ordered before putting her supernatural speed into her limbs.
She heard Manon yell something back at her, but she didn't understand what it was. Her destination, the queen's private sitting room, was nearly all the way on the other side of the palace and on a different floor altogether.
The queen had retired to her sitting room with Odilon in order to complete the paperwork he had brought for her and hopefully relax from dealing with Manon. Odilon's pleasant company, his charm and good humor, would certainly help.
However, when Nina burst inside, chest heaving with desperate pants and the scarlet message clutched tight in her fist, the queen's own heart sank in despair.
"What is it?" She asked, standing quickly as Odilon frowned over the back of the couch that he had been sitting on.
"It's Prince Erec, your majesty," Nina held the strips out with shaking hands, as though scared that the queen wouldn't believe her word alone. "The camp was ambushed in the middle of the night and he was captured along with at least ten others. Most of the troop was killed. Rainier was able to drive them off with the remainder, but they weren't able to rescue the prince."
Radelle paled. "Do they... know he's the prince?"
Nina shook her head. "I don't know. They shouldn't. His title was mostly kept secret. There's always the chance though."
Odilon jumped up quickly, nearly missing the queen as she lost control of her knees. He held onto her so that she wouldn't collapse. Radelle grabbed for her chest, taking in deep, gulping breaths and trying to steady her rapidly spinning head.
Her son, her first born...
"If they find out his title, Sabine will have him killed," she gasped, trying to put strength into her legs to push herself up to her own feet. She knew that it was disgraceful for a queen to display such a show of weakness, even in front of the two people she trusted most, but it was difficult to tell her mother's heart that she couldn't break down on hearing such news.
"What can be done, Nina?" Odilon asked her, his voice stronger and steadier than usual. He was trying to be a rock for the distraught queen.
In hearing the question, Nina hesitated. She hadn't actually though through a plan in the, admittedly short, time it had taken for her to run here.
She frowned down at the floor, her mind working quickly. The crown prince couldn't be allowed to be taken prisoner, it simply wasn't acceptable. In a normal war, the capture of the crown prince would be an excellent bargaining chip. Especially considering it was Cyrille and Radelle. The two of them wouldn't allow their children to come to harm in such a way.
However, this wasn't a normal war. This wasn't being fought for resources or land or some sort of petty power struggle. This was a misguided attempt at revenge on behalf of Queen Sabine who still bore misplaced resentment towards Cyrille and Radelle regarding the death of her husband, King Robert, who died while on a yearly summer getaway between the two families. He had been assassinated in his sleep, and it had broken Sabine's mind.
The fallout of that assassination led to the splintered relationship between Vasconia and Gascony, which in turn had led to this war. Cyrille lost his right hand trying to defend Radelle's life. The paladin assigned to protecting them on their journey had disappeared afterwards, her guilt and shame driving her to turn her back on her vows and no one had heard from her since. The city that it had happened in, Petrus Landebert, had been abandoned not long after. The citizenry that had left declared the place to be haunted, if not outright cursed. Some say that Sabine herself was instrumental in driving away the people who dared to live where Robert had died.
Everything that had happened in the intervening years was a result of the moment when King Robert lost his life. His death had led to this war, and Sabine was not interested in something as sane and rational as using Erec's life as a bargaining chip.
If it was known who he was, it was already too late to save him. He would be shipped directly to Ambraude to be executed before the queen. Nothing could be done. Anything they would try wouldn't make it to him on time.
However, if it wasn't known, if their attempts at keeping his title a secret for his first mission had been successful, then they, at worst, knew that they had a senior officer. If Erec had been clever enough to hide even that, then they would only know they had captured a group of enemy soldiers.
Nina had to work under the second assumption, because the first would be pointless. Then, if she was assuming that he had been taken prisoner, he would still be alive somewhere in Gascony. As far as she knew, prisoners of war were put into forced labor camps. It wasn't an unusual fate for those taken in war, the same happened to Gascony's prisoners of war.
However, the crown prince couldn't be allowed to languish in such a place until the war ended or some kind of deal was made to exchange prisoners. Especially since Sabine didn't at all seem concerned in doing such a thing, regardless of any attempt Cyrille made.
"Nina?" Radelle's quiet, strained voice pulled her from her thoughts.
The paladin focused on her ruler for a moment before setting her jaw determinedly. Nina threw back her coat, taking a knee before the queen. She placed her fist over her heart and looked up at her quite seriously.
The prince had to be brought back, and there was no one to spare to do such a thing. However...
"My queen, Prince Erec has always been my responsibility. Please, allow me to delegate my responsibilities here for a short time so that I might retrieve him from Gascony."
Odilon frowned. "Nina, are you sure that you-"
"Yes. "Her answer was unflinching and short. "Your majesty, allow me to go after him. For the sake of the kingdom. Forgive me for saying so, but I do not want to think about the kingdom being ruled by Princess Manon. Prince Erec is the future of our country, and returning him here is of paramount importance."
"You would do this yourself?" Radelle asked, voice carefully neutral.
Nina lowered her head. "I know the culture of Gascony. I would be able to blend in until I found Erec, then I could retrieve him the easiest of all the paladins. My sword skill could protect him on the way back. And... I feel guilty. He was my student. Any failure of his is a failure of mine."
"Is that the real reason?"
Nina frowned, looking up again. "My queen?"
Radelle shook her head. "Never mind. This is hardly the time. Very well. In place of our king, I will order you to go after Erec. Retrieve him at all costs, and return him here. You may request whatever supplies that you need."
"In that case, Odilon, can I have one of your cargo ships?"
The merchant raised a curious eyebrow, but he didn't hesitate to answer. "I don't mind. But, why?"
"I'll need it to sneak through the country."
"Ah. In that case, I'll give you some cargo to ship as well. An empty cargo ship is suspicious, a full one much less so."
"Thank you," Nina bowed her head. "I'll also need to speak to Ferrant and I'll need clothing considerably less conspicuous and fine than mine."
"It will be done," Radelle nodded.
Nina stood. "I'll go prepare, and I'll leave at the first opportunity."
"Thank you, Nina."
She bowed her head to her queen once before turning and sprinting from the room. Halfway down the hall, she nearly ran into Manon who was only just now catching up to her. Breathing hard, the princess grabbed onto her arms to keep her from sneaking past her.
"Wait! What's going on? What's happening with Erec?"
"Manon, please, I don't have time for this. I have to prepare my things." Nina pushed her arms away and tried to step around her.
"Prepare for what? What' is going on?"
Nina sighed and said quickly, just to get her to leave her alone, "Prince Erec has been captured. I'm going into Gascony to retrieve him. Consider yourself lucky and enjoy your reprieve while it lasts. When I get back, your new training will begin."
"Wait, Nina! That's not what I-"
Nina was already gone, sprinting for the stairs and running down because it was faster for her to do so than to wait for one of the lifts. It didn't take her long to reach the palace doors and rush out of them, aiming for the Paladin's Suite.
The large mansion, built in the Royal Complex near the gate leading into the Quicksilver District, where religious services were held, was the home of all the paladins. Each girl had a room there and they could have all of their needs met within the walls.
Nina's room, as the leader of the paladins was on the topmost floor and was the most lavish and luxurious of all the rooms. The roof over her head was made of glass, giving her a perfect view of the stars when she laid her head down at night. There was almost always food laid out for her because the servants knew she wouldn't sit down and eat, she would only grab and run to eat on the go because she was too busy to do otherwise. Therefore, they made sure that there was always something that could sit out for her to grab whenever she needed.
Just at the moment, there was a loaf of dense bread that had been baked with nuts that she grabbed a slice of as she ripped the coat off from around her shoulders. She threw it over the back of one of her sofas and held the bread between her lips as she began hastily pulling apart the dress that she was wearing. She was going to change first while she gave everyone else a chance to do their parts.
To her surprise, it was Ferrant who answered her call the quickest. He came up to her suite, shown by one of the servants with her permission. Though, he looked uncomfortable being there. He was not of noble birth and he always seemed a little put off by the riches that surrounded him whenever he had to visit the Royal Complex. However, he had come immediately when summoned.
Nina, now dressed in a commoner's tunic that had half-length sleeves and ended halfway past her thighs tossed him her sword. He caught it without comment.
"I need you to replace the hilt."
"Is there something wrong with it?"
"Yes. Commoners don't have swords with golden hilts. Give me something that doesn't make it obvious that it's a well-made sword."
He nodded without further question and turned to leave quickly. Nina didn't say anything as she gathered her long, platinum blonde hair into a long tail at the base of her neck. The smooth strands now out of her face made her seem more humble somehow. She sat down and began unlacing the long, fine leather boots before tossing them away.
A gentle knock on her door alerted her to someone else's arrival. She called for them to enter and was almost surprised when Sybille came walking inside, a leather pack in her arms.
"Sybille? What are you doing here?"
"Is there somewhere else I should rather be?" She responded coolly, walking to her side.
Nina grabbed the boots she was replacing hers with. These only came halfway up her calf, revealing the remainder of the stockings she wore. They weren't made of the same quality leather, and the dull brown was already scuffed and well worn.
"What did you need?" Nina asked, frowning.
"Well, apparently I'm going to be taking over in your absence. I don't know when that was decided, but everyone is already bringing me the things they normally come to you about. I'm already tired of it, but I'll live with it for a few months. Here, I brought you this."
"What is it?" Nina finished tying off the last boot before grabbing the ledger. She opened it and began pulling out different scrolls. Paperwork. "What is this?"
"Travel papers. You'll need them to travel through Gascony undetected. I've marked you as a trader from Lloegyr in these, which will be fine for the towns closer to the border. For the others, there's some in there marking you as a shipper taking things around the kingdom. They're accurate from copies made from things that Adelphie has sent."
Nina nodded. "That's wonderful. Thank you."
"I'd say to stay in contact, but that's inadvisable. I'll be sending Felicie back to the border early. She'll bring a message to Adelphie so that she can assist you once you cross over."
Adelphie was another paladin. However, she rarely, if ever, came into Vasconia, much less Gwenael. She spent most of her time spying on Gascony. It was rare to see her in person. Those who claimed they had were usually mistaken or outright fooled.
"Thank you." Nina stood up and grabbed the coat from her bed.
The brown leather garment was made for a man. It would swallow her small frame. When she threw it around her shoulders, it seemed to make her thin frame even smaller. She frowned as she adjusted it in place.
"Are you sure about this?" Sybille asked, frowning.
"It's not so difficult. Get in. Get Prince Erec. Get out."
"It's not that simple and you know it. Gascony is a very different culture from ours. It will be difficult for any one of us to fit in. You know that they don't revere paladins as our people do. They call them unnaturals. They imprison them for life for being born the way we are. We are called by the Lord, and they treat people like us as blasphemous slaves."
"I know that," Nina said calmly, adjusting the coat once more. "I'm ready for it."
"It goes deeper than that. The way the church has twisted the teachings of the Lord-"
"Sybille, I'll be fine," Nina smiled at her reassuringly. "I'll be back soon. Are you sure you want to handle my tasks? I can find someone else."
Sybille shrugged. "Mostly, I just wanted to complain a little bit before you left. I'll handle it. Do you want someone to come with you though? A high knight, maybe? Or even just a common knight. You should take someone."
"No. It's better if I do this alone. As you said, it's a different culture. And I already know how to navigate it. I can't rely on someone else already knowing what I know."
Sybille frowned as Nina stepped around her. "How do you know what life is like in Gascony?"
Nina paused, standing in her doorway, she frowned. "Because I was raised in the same type of place."
She left Sybille there alone and continued out back down onto the streets. The ship that Odilon had summoned for her was waiting at the small pier at the entrance of the Royal Complex. It was beat up and run down, but Nina rather preferred that. She was glad Odilon had thought of it. A cargo ship in pristine condition would raise more questions.
Ferrant was already there as well. However, he wasn't waiting with Odilon.
As she approached, she saw him with some of Odilon's men who were loading it down with goods for her to pretend to be shipping or trading. Most of it was already in crates, however, she could see into some of them as they were passed up to the man aboard loading the ship down. Mostly, it seemed to consist of children's toys, blankets, and other assorted things.
"Children's clothes?" Nina asked, frowning as she stood next to Odilon where he was overseeing the preparation of the ship.
He nodded. "I figured a lady, traveling on her own, would either be involved with fashion or children. I picked the one I figured you would dislike the least. It was a rather difficult choice."
Odilon turned, giving her a stack of papers. "This is the shipping manifest. There's also instruction on how to update and change it as you go if you need to. I would burn that one once you've learned, otherwise it's rather obvious you don't know what you're doing."
Nina took the offered papers, a bit surprised. "You're rather good at subterfuge, Lord Yvain. I wouldn't have expected that from you."
Odilon shrugged with a grin. "One thing you learn when working in sales is how to be whatever the people want you to be. You adapt yourself to your surroundings to more easily make a profit and that kind of thinking just becomes secondhand."
"You talk to Adelphie a lot, don't you?"
Odilon laughed. "Got me that easily, huh? Yes, Addie taught me most everything I know about lies and acting. It was helpful though. Apparently, not towards you."
"Lord Yvain! The ship is loaded, fueled, and ready to go!" Ferrant called out to Odilon as he and the workers began jumping from the deck. "And, I've hidden your sword inside, Lady Benoite."
Odilon nodded before turning back to Nina. "Are you sure about this? Do you have a plan?"
Nina made an awkward shrugging motion, storing the manifest in the same pouch as her travel papers. "I'll head up towards Gy-Hamelin, then cross into Lloegyr. From there, I can cross back over into Gascony without it being known that I'm from here. It's how Adelphie usually gets in."
"All right. Then, I'll wish you well. Good luck, Nina. And bring our prince home safely."
She took his offered hand and shook it once before leaving him there to run to her ship. The engine was nearly as old as the hull, but it came to life with only a few grumbles of complaint. Nina didn't look down or backwards as she took the ship up into the sky.
It was a long journey from here to the border mountains. Once she crossed into Lloegyr, she would need to travel north a long way until it was safe to cross the borders again. She prepared herself for the journey and prayed to the Lord that Erec would be all right.
It was very difficult to fly though, with that knot of worry and guilt eating her alive from the inside out.
It wasn't until Nina had successfully crossed into Lloegyr that she noticed something was wrong. The changes around the ship were subtle ones, and she was far more focused on flying as quickly towards the border as possible than focusing on how much food she had or the movements of things of things in the cargo hold when she hardly went down there anyway.
However, as she was traveling upwards through the north-western end kingdom, playing as a shipper of children's toys and supplies, she finally noticed that her food was running out oddly fast. She usually had to eat a great deal when using her power often, but the cargo ship was small and as she didn't run often, she didn't eat often either. When she was as focused and single-minded as she was now, she often forgot to do so entirely.
So, when she finally realized that there was more missing than what she had been eating, it was already a full two weeks away from the capital.
She frowned over her rations, trying to do a mental calculation in her head of what was missing and what she had already eaten. Tipped off by the food, she checked the water jugs and saw that one of them, one she hadn't even touched, was already empty and a second one, also one she hadn't touched, was missing more than a few ladlefuls.
Nina had the small cargo ship on autofly currently. The engine was going to keep it moving straight forward. It could be dangerous if anything came into her path, but there was nothing around her for leagues and she wouldn't reach the end of the border mountains for another few days. Once there, she could cross without issue or question.
However, right now, she had to worry about the lack of food on her ship. Food and water were missing, and as she thought about the little things moving that she hadn't paid any attention to before, she came to the realization that there was a stowaway on her ship.
Nina's sword, its hilt now plain and unremarkable, had never left her side since she first pulled it from the cargo area. She unsheathed it and the fabulous blade remained bright and sharp as ever as she slowly walked down through the storage area. It wasn't a big ship. It was made to host a crew of five comfortably, but it could be operated by one. Which meant that there was more room for cargo.
The stowage hold, packed with crates of baby and child clothes and toys, was dark and cold. Nina grabbed a lantern from the wall and turned it on, brightening the area. She frowned around. The engine was placed below here, and she could hear it much louder than on deck. She scowled as she moved the light of the lantern over everything.
She didn't speak, choosing instead to listen. If someone was down here, they would see the light of the lantern and know that she was looking for them.
Nina walked forward slowly, looking in every corner. Most of the crates were too small to hide in without making yourself incredibly uncomfortable, if not simply too small to host a human at all. She didn't think that anyone would want to try stuffing themselves inside.
Until she got to the back of the storage area and she saw that the contents of one of the boxes had been dumped out onto the ground. She frowned, looking over the collection of diapers and pins. The way they had been hurriedly dumped was not at all consistent with how Odilon's men had packed her ship. It was hasty and messy.
Nina lifted her lantern, looking over the crates. Most of them remained closed. The few that were open she could clearly see inside and knew that there was nothing but stuffed toys, dolls, rattles, or clothing inside.
She grabbed the rim of the first box she saw and pushed. The lid remained stuck fast. She moved her hand and pressed against a second one similarly. Then a third. Then a fourth. She came to a fifth crate and raised an eyebrow at how the lid seemed just a slight bit eschew.
Frowning, she tightened her grip on her sword.
"I know you're in there. Come out, now!"
No movement.
"If you make me come after you, I attack first."
Nothing.
Nina set the lantern down onto one of the crates she had already checked. Sword at the ready, she grabbed the lid and shoved it away.
Princes Manon screamed, holding up her hands defensively. "Don't do it!"