Chapter 2: Chapter 1 - Hope
"Prince."
"Steward."
He caught sight of his friend, Stephan, who wore a butler suit, and stood with a right proper posture over his bedside, with his clothes in hand.
Stephan raised a brow, and with a glance, the servants lingering by the door left the room.
When the doors shut, the air shifted inside. Stephan's expression softened up considerably, as he laid the outer garments on a chair's back.
"The same dream?"
He laid up on the bed, propping himself up with his arms, a terrible headache brewing, "As always."
Stephan helped him out of the bed, and prepared the clothes he'd brought before helping him dress, a necessity given the unnecessarily difficult nature of noble clothes.
"How many nights did you last this time?" Stephan stripped off his shirt in front of the full length mirror, preparing the undergarments.
"Sixteen. We had run out of resources, on the Seventh. I implemented suicide tactics. Utilizing mage lightning." He saw himself and his sagging eyes, he looked like hell, and the headache had only just begun.
Stephan raised a brow, he was quick with the dressing, his lips slightly curled, "A new record."
Stephan finished tying off the sash around his waist, smoothening out the jewels and insignias around his body.
"But we did not win." Argo's eyes shifted.
He looked into the mirror properly now, as he was more awake than asleep after putting on the cumbersome noble attire.
White noble clothes, with golden buttons and little knick nacks all around, gifts given by others, that needed to be worn, to avoid misunderstandings of loyalties, treaties, and such things.
A wardrobe of where the accessories were terribly ugly pins and medals, that couldn't be styled with quite anything.
He was surprised they hadn't tried to pin anything on his face. The only part of him that remained untouched.
Yet all anyone would see, is an untested man no better than a boy, unloved by his mother.
Argo, the most useless son of Karlan's Conqueror Queen.
He massaged his face a bit, and then took a bottle of wine, and dabbed some parts of his inner collar, staining it, as well as some parts of his clothes, here and there.
"A raise, would be nice." Stephan remarked, as he saw his hard work being ruined.
Argo set down the wine bottle, "Sorry."
With the scent of wine and alcohol on him, he lowered his head slightly to his friend.
Stephan, with a swift motion, made his clothes a bit more disheveled, making it look as though they had just been in a toss of sorts.
Argo walked out, with Stephan in tow, walking in step behind him, their distance just slightly too close.
A look of disgust creased the eyes of the servants.
"What's on the schedule?" He slightly looked back at Stephan, a deviant gaze in his eye.
The servants who had fallen in step behind Stephan, at a proper distance, looked at him with some pity, and at Argo, like he was a freak.
The air was utterly chilled.
How could he forget what was today?
"Your Highness. Today your fiancé will be chosen, among the ladies of Karlan's elite." Stephan had noticed their looks as well.
While he didn't take kindly to them, he couldn't say a word.
For the sake of Karlan.
"Ah, right," Argo's face fell, and he turned to look forward, his expression was like someone who had just been forced to eat shit, "That."
The servants were disgusted.
How could such a thing be born to someone as noble as her majesty?
They arrived at the front of the estate, they were not near Karlan, the capital, right now at all, but rather inside his personal fief, a very small town of a few thousand on the frontier, near the Endless Sea.
Though his hereditary rank was Prince, his actual influence was closer to a High-rank Baron.
Loch was little more than a village with walls, given to him at his own askance to his mother, to avoid the succession disputes and be left alone.
"Who was it again, that wants to bed me?"
He rubbed his face disgracefully.
Stephan had a verifiably pale look on his face.
Argo saw between his fingers, looking downwards, at the foot of the stairs.
From the moment his eyes landed on her, he had no doubt.
"Your Highness. The Daughter of the Late Duchess March."
Mage Lightning.
He turned around after a single look, entering back into the estate.
Her face was scarred horribly by Mage Lightning.
Half of her face was completely torched.
Her clothes were in disrepair as well.
It was a blatant insult, that the Duke sent his sister's daughter, in such a state to him, a faraway prince, as if to say, that they were just right for one another.
Whatever he actually wanted to do, this action was the best course of action, for now.
To not even deign a response, was the only response.
Now that he had seen her, he had done the minimum in this case, and the servants passed him, to unload the carriage that came with her.
He turned back, alongside Stephan, after giving her a disgusted look.
No sooner had the doors of the estate closed, than Argo's face twisted slightly.
"Cruel." He was intimately familiar with Mage Lightning.
Stephan couldn't help but agree, "Very."
Argo was reminded once again, why he wanted to stay as far away from the Karlan nobility, and the world of nobles, as possible.
Keeping it at barely arm's length.
Under Karlan's law, blood duels were a righteous thing.
Alongside that, a variety of things were not only legal, but encouraged, for the sake of strengthening the bloodlines of Karlan.
To breed warriors; killers.
They entered his private study, Argo went around the desk, and sat down, his back to a window, with a balcony.
Stephan stood near the exit doors and spoke.
"The usual then?"
They had done this many times till now, appearing as unappealing and appallingly uncivil and uncouth as possible, to try and deter any suitors or their families from trying to form marriage ties with them.
Scare off the women, disgust the families.
Isolate Loch, and himself in there, to keep Noble eyes away as best as possible.
An invalid chess piece with no value.
If anything, a piece that would weaken ones position.
For that, they had chosen this play.
A scandal like marrying one's daughter to a man with a lover, and no less, another man, which was so openly so, was like smearing one's name in the mud.
Even if he was a prince, the sin of Adultery was simply that egregious in this culture that favored loyalty over everything else, be it to the nation, a name, a symbol, to power, or prestige.
"We don't need to."
Argo leaned back in his seat, shutting his eyes.
"That innocent girl has suffered enough. Though it's unfortunate. We'll have to send her back to that den of bastards. The longer she stays, the more chances for the thousands in Loch to be caught in this mess. At the least, give her good food and the guest room and wait staff."
Usually, the conditions in Loch would be so poor for the suitors, that they would leave of their own volition, leaving Argo with a backhanded letter of apology, and a token to wear, signifying that that house was not hostile, but didn't want any further affiliations.
A sort of oath, to ignore him.
He had dozens from the countless frontier families that had sent their daughters back then, to try and marry the faraway prince of Karlan.
A knock on the door.
Argo looked at Stephan, who had put a hand into his suit by his chest, where a dagger was hidden.
Argo put a hand under his desk, a crossbow was hidden there, aimed through a hole hidden behind the drape that was around the desk, which if shot would punch a hole through the drape, the door, and whoever was on the other side.
"Who… is it?"
Argo stared at the door with a coldness that only a veteran might have, and the tone of someone who was in the midst of something deviant.
Stephan stood just far away enough from the door on the side, to where if it swung open it wouldn't hit him, waiting for the response, or for someone to break in.
No one in the mansion was foolish enough to knock on his private study, after all.
"W-, won't your Highness open the door?"
Argo and Stephan exchanged looks.
Stephan reached for the door, and opened it, his eyes closed as he held the door open.
Argo was leaned back in his chair, wiping something off his lips.
"Lady March. I see you in good health."
He snickered, and she, who was already pale, was frozen still.
His eyes narrowed slightly, glancing behind her, "For what has a lady come alone, to my private study for?"
Stephan peeked from under his eyelids, if she was here to try and start a rumor, that they had done something together, he would not be able to deny it, without admitting to having his eyes open during a private matter between nobles.
Such an offense was irreparable.
"I… I don't care if you have a lover."
His one eyebrow shot up, before he could stop it.
A sharp look reflected in his eye, but it disappeared before she could catch it.
"So? You think that's enough, for me to let in a stray, that's just a pawn in some political play?"
Though he didn't want to be harsh, this girl's well-being would likely sink him, Stephan, and all of Loch, if it went south.
She needed to be gone as soon as-
"-I don't care if you abuse me."
A strong distaste filled his mouth like a flood.
He felt like he had chewed on shit.
"Beat, burn, break-, I-, I want… to stay… here…"
She was in full-on tears, but to say she was crying, would be a lie.
She kept her hands in front of her, one holding her other wrist, like a proper noble, till the end, never covering her face.
She never looked away from him either.
He could see it clearly.
A powerful pride, stemming from something, that didn't let her back down.
But also, an equally powerful will to live.
A will… that he understood very well.
If she failed to be accepted even here, she would be left to die, uncared for, and forgotten.
But even so…
"...For the sake of Loch, I cannot condone your permanent residence here."
Young, he had selfishly asked for this fief, so remote and far away, that no one would care about him having it, near the Endless Sea, no one would want it either.
And as such, it was his responsibility to see it remain as good, if not better than how he had found it, those years ago.
This was his Noblesse Oblige.
"...I- If you don't take me, I'll kill myself."
He stared at her, his pupils shrinking ever so slightly.
He couldn't call her bluff.
If she died here, the Ducal House of March would have him under their thumb forever after, and if he didn't pay up, his sister, the First Princess, would come knocking.
If she stays here, then he would be responsible for her, and would be akin to accepting her as his fiancé, which would inevitably tie him to March, which would tie him to his sister.
Either way, he loses.
He had never made a plan for a situation like this, because such a thing was unthinkable.
Why did his Sister want him?
Why not use this scheme on someone of importance?
"Stephan. Shut the door."
She felt the shift in the room instantly.
He wasn't so slobby-looking anymore.
And the steward didn't look quite so timid and boyish.
Suddenly, she didn't know where she was as if she had been swept by a sudden flood.
"Sit."
She turned around, to find Stephan with his eyes open, peering at her with an utter lack of human emotion.
Not an ounce of anything was left in there, at least, there was nothing for her.
Argo came around the table, and sat across from her.
She skittishly sat down, her hands on her lap, as her eyes took in the situation as best she could.
"What do you want?" His voice was so level, that for a moment, her heart managed to slow down the racehorse pace it was moving at.
Influenced by the atmosphere, she'd mostly calmed her tone down, but inside, her heart raced erratically still, yet her voice found purchase in telling the truth, escaping her lips even as an untouched lake, "I want to live."
"An expensive gift." Argo looked at Stephan, who took a bottle of wine off the wall.
She saw the brief gleam of a dagger, hidden in Stephans suit, and her blood ran a little cold.
"I don't care if you have a lover, I'll-" Stephan placed down the glasses before them.
Argo glanced at Stephan, who then began to pour, "-My lover won't need to worry, if I don't marry to begin with."
"-I'll let you take out all your frustrations on me." Stephan poured her glass next, keeping a proper posture.
He tapped his glass a little, taking in the touch feel, it was smooth, "The frontier has plenty of beasts for that."
It had been quite some time since he had actually drank wine, rather than just using it as a visage.
Sweet.
Very sweet.
She grit her teeth.
"I offer my life."
His speech was slow but not slow, it was calm, but not focused, he seemed infinitely more interested in his glass of wine, "Worthless. It's where you die, that carries weight. We both know this."
"...If I die right here, it'll be a problem right?" She raised her glass for a refill.
When Stephan lowered himself to pour with both hands, as is etiquette, she swiftly grabbed the dagger from his suit, placing it against her throat.
That, did grab his attention, as he set down his glass of wine, and at last, was looking at her, with his obsidian gaze.
She felt lost, but the grip on the dagger, certainly wasn't.
"Within noble rooms, when the doors close, a layer of muffling is provided. No servants come near here, either. Kill yourself, if that's what you want. Your body will never be found, a forgotten runaway, and a coward. That is all that will be left, for anyone who feels so inclined, to find. Though I doubt anyone will bother to look."
For Loch, and for the sake of his duty to the thousands here, a single life was cheap, and though he didn't want for it, he would not be blackmailed, not by her, and not by his sister.
Whatever they wanted with him, he was determined to keep away.
Tears fell from her eyes, as she held the dagger closer to her throat.
He grabbed his glass, recognizing her plan had resolved itself, and sipped on his wine, leaning back on the couch.
It was like he was looking at a circus attraction.
Stephan took a few steps back as well.
He was mentally preparing himself for the cleanup job to come, and did not want his freshly pressed clothes to get dirty in the spray.
"... You're a real asshole you know."
She dropped the dagger.
She couldn't do it.
She bent forward, and cried into her hands, sniveling pathetically.
He merely looked down at her, taking another drink.
The couch was stiff, he idly noted that it required some new furnishing, as it had lost it's comfortability.
He turned his sight over to Stephan, who walked over to the wall, grabbing the ornamental sword off it.
Any sympathy died the moment she tried to forcefully put her own life above those of his people by coming here and threatening him to try and stay.
"So?" Argo looked at the ceiling, it had just been replaced some time ago, "Why should I let you live?"
"W-, what?" Her eyes widened.
She turned her head to find a sword at her neck.
If she raised her head at all, she would be cut.
Her entire body ran cold.
She wanted to look at Argo, but couldn't.
"Time is not on your side."
She stared at the ground where the dagger had fallen.
But she knew there was no chance, with the Mage Lightning injuries, or even in her peak form, to reach down and grab it, let alone defend herself before having her neck cut open.
She bit her lip and squeezed her eyes shut.
"What am I supposed to give you, who doesn't care for anything but Loch, when I've been struck from the familial records of March? Bury me on a hill with good light."
She mustered all of her courage, to get that statement out without cracking at all.
Argo was her last resort.
If even the faraway prince, with a lover, and a tiny fief, abandoned by his family and lineage, would not sympathize with her, no one else would either.
The Mage Lightning, would kill her slowly.
She rathered a painless death, then clinging to life.
But the sword didn't fall.
"...You aren't affiliated with House March? Are you sure you've been struck from the records?"
She was shocked to hear Stephan's voice, questioning her.
But then, realized that if she was telling the truth, she had no right to think otherwise, since they'd be effectively on the same level, if not, him being higher than her as steward to the prince and a baron.
"My mother struck me with Mage Lightning before her duel and struck me from the familial records. She left me only with a small mine as income. But even that was taken away from me and now-"
"-How good are your skills at management?" Stephan's gaze bore down on her.
She stuttered for a second, "M-, management? As in records? I was taught to be the successor completely. I missed the last parts of my education, but if it's just management, I had my full education."
Stephan caught Argo's look.
And Stephan returned a slightly different look.
Argo shook his head.
Stephan shut his eyes.
Argo sighed.
"Your name was Eida, correct?"
She, Eida, looked at him with a strange face.
"Yes?"
"Your mother was a brilliant person, who foresaw her own demise. To save you, she cut you off, so you couldn't be used as a pawn. She provided you with an opportunity to live freely. Be grateful to her."
She looked dumbfounded, at the change in his pacing.
It was like she was standing in front of a hurricane.
Eida stared at him.
That was all it took?
She could have just said that to begin with?
"Ah, and also," Argo slowly stood up, and began towards his desk, "I'm not fond of talk like that. Killings, abuse, conflict, and such. Don't be so forceful next time. Go away now."
"So I can stay?"
He turned his gaze down from the ceiling, like a predator leveling their sight with prey, at least, she felt so, "Quietly."
If she was not a lynchpin that could destroy Loch, and himself or Stephan, then, she could do whatever she wanted.
She bowed her head slightly, and quickly left.
Argo stood up.
Stephan shut the door behind her.
He turned back and looked at Argo's back, as he was looking out of the window, at the town.
"Now that that's out of the way, there are some things that need to be attended to, your highness."
Stephan's change in address, and tone, was all that Argo needed.
He knew precisely the matter in question, and when he heard the bookshelf skidding, he shook his head, sighing slightly.
"Even a tiny town like Loch has its problems after all." Argo walking behind Stephan went into the dark stairs behind the bookshelf and disappeared below.
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