Chapter 16.1

Early the next morning, Bethan dutifully arrived to help treat Eirwen's hangover, while clearly still nursing her own. The men were still fast asleep, on account of the weapon master still on a reverse schedule from avoiding the Flameheart staff. He would need to wean off that, since he would no longer be able to go out anyway. She needed him on her own rhythm again, though she avoided telling him why.

Two of the remaining Flameheart nobles reported in that day, with the other two having sent messengers that they would arrive the next day. As for the abandoned territories, while there were no proper leaders to those yet, there were people who were filling the gaps for now. Each had managed to send at least some representatives. Eirwen made sure to greet them at the throne hall, bar one.

Half an hour before noon, she moved into the private study, which served her well as her main office. The secluded nature and familiar feel helped calm her nerves. And for her next guest, this was where she wanted to deal with him. She considered making him wait longer, but decided against it. Soon after, knocks announced him.

In came Sir Seabhac, a knight of great renown. She knew him well. Leader of Marquis Flameheart's personal guard, he had arrived at the negotiation table on his master's behalf multiple times during the war. Baroness Aoife had served as the Marquis's sword, but Sir Seabhac had been his shield. And now that man had arrived to report to her, representing not one but two of the leaderless territories, Bán and Dorcha both.

He entered without a sword on his side, having left it at the door. Even peace-bonded, he didn't keep it on him in her presence. She noted he was the first guest that didn't respond to the painting at all. He'd known of it, then. No surprise there. The personal guard had been loyal to a fault to the Marquis, to the point where his father wouldn't even let them carry weapons inside the Flameheart estate.

His eyes swept over her and as he did so, he laid eyes on the unsheathed sword on the desk. Crimson, his former master's personal weapon, symbol of his achievements. For a brief moment, she saw pain, grief, flash in Seabhac's eyes. Then he knelt and lowered his head, hiding his eyes from her, but not his fist, knuckles white for a count longer before he managed to relax it. "Sir Darragh Seabhac greets her Grace, Duchess of Verglas and Flameheart."

Once more she resisted the urge to make him wait. "Raise your head, Sir Seabhac." He looked at her, his eyes as unreadable as ever. She knew well that normally, he only showed the emotions that he felt would make others comfortable. She was glad he wasn't going to filter them, as she addressed him with a falsely polite tone. "It's been a while, Sir Seabhac. The last time we met was already four months ago. After all, you didn't show me your face when last you visited me. Too afraid you would give something away, I guess. A shame, really. If you had, I would have been able to save him."

There was that flash of pain again. So he knew and regretted it. Good. But he kept his silence. The weapon master would have acknowledged but fought the statement, but not this man. He simply waited for her next act.

"I was wondering where your group had gone, after you rode off with his horse empty for the world to see." A twitch. So it wasn't intended, they had simply slipped up then. No matter. She still resented him. "Thanks to you informing everyone that way, the entire town already knew of his demise by the time I arrived. Sure made climbing the hill comfortable. Fortunately, Vicomte Carraig's presence discouraged any attacks from taking place. So, the white woods and black forest then? I would like to hear your explanation."

If he truly felt hurt by her barbs, he sure managed to keep it out of his voice and eyes. "Yes, your Grace. We had already assumed that both Vicomtes would leave their posts behind, which we confirmed on our arrival. Given the import of that region, holding the border against marauders, we chose there to make a difference."

He hesitated for but a single count before continuing, perhaps wondering if he chose his words poorly, though Eirwen kept her own face emotionless. "If it so pleases your Grace, we would like to continue our work there. We have managed to align all remaining forces and have fortified the border once more, allowing us and several local leaders to come here for your orders. But we feel more time is needed to ensure both territories stand tall at your service."

This time she made him wait, tapping her desk as she went over things in her head. It was a decent use of their abilities. By being present in both territories, they could bring them closer together, perhaps put an end to their rivalry. She could use them here as well, but she had no desire so.

 "You're right, you're more useful there. What I need on my side are people capable of questioning my orders, helping ensure I fix my mistakes. The last thing I need right now are obedient lapdogs that would eagerly let their master run off to his death. Split your forces and help rebuild both territories. Make sure that all military efforts are spearheaded equally by both, showing everyone a united front. You have one year, starting after the mourning ends, to get their affairs in order."

He didn't react to her barb, but his eyes did betray surprise at her last sentence. "I see. Thank you, your Grace. May I ask what you desire afterwards?"

"Your servitude. Hopefully with some more critical thinking. I will decide at the time how you can best serve me. Until then, work hard. And remember, as much as I won't forgive the role you played, he did bargain for your lives. I will keep my word, so you are safe of consequences. But I didn't make you stay, you chose that yourselves, so I will not let you go any more. As for right now, report to Vicomtesse Pertrellan all you can on the current leadership of the Bán and Dorcha territories. I also expect all twelve of you to be present at the trial in two days. Dismissed."

Lady Róisín and Sir Caerbychan both came by individually that evening. The majordoma reported on the progress that Eirwen had asked her to make for the trials. To maintain secrecy, she was doing as much as she could by herself.

As for Sir Caerbychan, he came over as messenger, now that mental communication was too reckless. "Your Grace, the weapon master asked me to deliver a message. He is aware you are plotting something and wished to give you his blessing."

Eirwen took pause at that. She knew he'd catch on and had wondered what she'd be comfortable to reveal if he had asked. Instead, he now told her to keep the secret. "Even if it hurts him?"

"Yes, your Grace. He said that a premeditated act would be because you deem it necessary, unlike a time where you might lash out in anger. Since he has forfeited the right to make decisions in your stead, he is choosing to put his faith in you." The knight was friendly, a tone that likely resembled his from when he had sent the man over. It hurt that he put such blind faith in her.

"Good. Because it will hurt. Make sure he goes to bed before midnight. The day after tomorrow, I need you both up at dawn. I will need you, and only you, to drop by then and receive the final preparations. Dismissed." With a bow, the man retreated.

The next day was the fifth day of mourning. More arrivals came, including reinforcements from Verglas territory. Three nobles, each with a dozen knights, escorting nearly half a hundred soldiers and six healers. She doubted it would be necessary, but it was good to have more numbers on her side. In the evening, all preparations were completed. She went to bed early, hoping to rest well, though sleep mostly evaded her grasp.

The sun arrived without mercy, announcing the eighth day since this all had begun. As everyone wrapped up their final preparations, Eirwen had people needing her involvement constantly. To save everyone time, she made sure to engage in mental conversation where possible, allowing her doors to mostly remain closed. Even while putting on her full plate, she still kept talking with folks all across the estate.

The fifth bell arrived before she knew it, leaving but a single hour before she would have to confront the crowd. She was far from the only nervous one, even the Flameheart guards came across as tense. Her own gathered at the courtyard, while Flameheart staff and guards went ahead to the central plaza. Almost half the Verglas knights had left already, along with all the staff, with several carriages holding all the needed gear.

The knights and nobles were all in full plate, even their horses were equipped with heavy barding. This was nothing but a show of force. Halfway the hour, their procession began making its way through the empty streets. Eirwen cast her senses wide, finding none but patrols still nearby. It seemed the entire town had gathered at the plaza, which barely was large enough to contain such a number of people. The sixth Duke had demolished several buildings to arrange that, so that he could make all face his glory. Now it served his mortal enemy well.

The carriages stood waiting near the entrance of the plaza. In one of them, the weapon master was hiding well. Even she barely could tell he was there. The Flameheart nobles and representatives, however, were easy to find. On the left side, just behind a line of Verglas knights, stood the remaining members of the council and their heirs, as well as the Marquis's former personal guard. On the right side were the others, those who were not at trial today. Behind both sides, Verglas soldiers faced the public, because even if the people's aggression had cooled a lot the past week, that did not mean they could be careless.

While the escorting knights dismounted at the plaza's entrance, Eirwen steered her horse through the centre, flanked by the Verglas nobles. She ignored the servants waiting at the foot of the stage, her horse climbing up the platform instead. At the top, she dismounted. Rather than sitting down in the Duke's stone throne, she parked her shield on it and commanded her horse to stand next to it. Turning around, she faced the crowd while hiding all emotions behind her cold mask. It was time to close this chapter.