The Eve (2)
It was not a night of pitch-black darkness.
Just dark enough that the moonlight let you make out your surroundings.
Someone was walking down a corridor of the royal palace.
Queen Mary.
In one hand she held a jewel that glowed a deep red. It might have looked like a ruby at a glance, but the color was closer to fresh blood.
You could call it actual blood, really.
It had been made by grinding up dozens of maids and servants. How many had it been exactly? Around fifty?
She couldn't quite remember.
Looked at that way, the efficiency seemed rather poor. You had to kill fifty people just to finish a jewel that could dominate a single person. Still—
People aren't all worth the same.
Nobles and commoners were different, and even among nobles there were ranks.
Lost in that idle thought, she found herself standing before a door before she knew it. The door to her fiancé Henry's bedchamber.
Mary reached for the handle, then paused. She touched her earring, checking that the magic was still properly in place.
The earring gave a faint glimmer. The spell was holding.
Confirmed that the magic concealing her presence was working, she let out a quiet breath.
"Hoo."
Mary steeled herself and turned the handle.
The door opened with the softest possible creak. She stepped into Henry's room as silently as she could.
What met her eyes was Henry, sound asleep. She had worried he might be awake, but the sight put her at ease.
Approaching his side, she tightened her grip on the jewel. Part of her wanted to linger and watch him sleep a little longer, but this was not the time.
The jewel began to hum and glow, the light swelling larger and larger. Good. Now all that remained was for that light to wash over him—
"What?"
The light hissed out and died.
That had never happened before. This was hardly her first time using mental domination. She had practiced on high-ranking nobles of the kingdom any number of times. Never once had the light simply gone out.
Mary poured power into the jewel again.
It gave a brief hum and a flicker of light—then winked out once more.
Why is it doing this?
She tried a third time, then a fourth. Still nothing. Irritation prickling, she was about to force it once more when every hair on her body stood on end.
Someone—or something—was watching her.
Mary whipped her head around, scanning the room. Nothing. Henry was still asleep.
Then what in the world—
A piercing ringing exploded in her ears, a sound like needles driven straight through the eardrums.
She screamed at the sudden agony, yet could not hear her own voice. Only the endless, rising screech filled her head, growing louder and louder.
Mary thrashed, clapped her hands over her ears, and collapsed. What was this? She was covering them—why could she still hear it?
Right. She would have to cut them off.
How? She had no knife. Tear the earrings free, then—wait.
She could hear something else now. She could make out what it was.
Yes. That was the sound of waves. Then waves again, and the cry of gulls. Wind. The song of whales. The sound of a turtle… the sound of the sea—
Shut up. All of you, shut up.
Mary clawed her way back to clarity and violently wrenched the mana inside her body to the surface. The sounds dwindled.
Which bastard… which absolute bastard did this to me.
Rage surged through her as she shoved herself upright. In that same instant, her eyes met something.
A brilliant yellow iris split by a vertical pupil. An enormous eye was staring straight at her.
Child. How dare you try once more to lay magic upon my great warrior.
The voice rang inside her skull. The judgment was not difficult. She could not win against that.
She had to run.
Mary bolted for the door. Mercifully, whatever it was made no move to seize her. Back in her own chambers she sat trembling for a long time, unable to tell whether the shaking came from fury or from fear.
"What the hell is this."
The statue of the sea serpent god that I had set in my bedchamber was lying on the floor. I had closed the window before sleeping; there was no way for a breeze to get in. How had it fallen?
I picked it up, set it back in place, and headed outside.
The palace was in the full swing of wedding preparations. The ceremony was only the day after tomorrow, after all.
Servants bustled past in every direction.
"Yes, mop that section there."
"Lovely, lovely, mopping is lovely."
They were redoing the floors from scratch, and high on the palace walls our duchy's banner flew beside the kingdom's. Garlands hung here and there. It all looked rather fine.
Shame there aren't any skull decorations, though.
I wondered if the queen would ever come out as a witch. That secret room of hers had been full of skulls. Pulling twenty or so out for decoration would have been perfect.
I took a turn around the grounds while I was at it, but sightseeing was not why I had left my room. I had a secret meeting to keep.
A tryst with Elizabeth would have been ideal, but the person waiting for me was a middle-aged man with an impressively groomed mustache. I met the butler alone in the garden.
"So. Did you look into it?"
"Yes, young master."
I had given the butler an investigative assignment. The target was the Holy See—because of Mary.
There might come a day when I would have to kill her, and I wanted methods ready in advance.
Word might reach Mary if we were careless, so we held our quiet rendezvous in the garden.
"All right. What sort of outfit is the Holy See?"
"They're famous."
"Famous for what?"
"For being completely insane."
According to the butler, the Holy See—and the Inquisition department I was particularly interested in—had a reputation that was nothing short of infamous.
"How did they end up looking that bad?"
"Well, you see, their arrest rate is far too high."
"Isn't a high arrest rate a good thing?"
"The arrest rate is one hundred and fifty percent."
"One hundred and fifty…?"
Suppose, for example, that your next-door neighbor seems suspicious. He prowls around oddly at night, or never leaves the house at all, or is suspiciously wealthy.
So Hans reports him.
"That John fellow next door of mine—he's suspicious."
"In what way?"
"He's got far too much money, and every night there are strange animal noises coming from his place."
An Inquisitor is dispatched on the tip.
"Good heavens! A heretic!"
They find bizarre animal masks in the room. The Inquisitor hauls John away and burns him. They also haul away Hans, who had been suspiciously awake in the middle of the night.
"W-wait! I've done nothing wrong!"
By the second day of interrogation, Hans confesses his own sins of his own free will and is burned at the stake as well.
"And the Holy See is that sort of group?"
"It's an example, but yes—that's generally how it goes. Someone accuses one person of looking suspicious, and usually about two people end up burned."
I decided to rethink the plan of calling in the Holy See in an emergency. If I summoned them to take Mary, they would probably drag me off with her. Or rather, both of us.
Of course, carting off a queen and a duke-consort of an entire country would not be simple—but then again, you never know what lunatics will do.
"Ah, and young master."
The butler called my attention again.
"His Grace has sent a letter."
"Father?"
He handed it over and I opened it. A list was written inside.
The guest list for the wedding, I see.
Father had written out who would be coming from the Empire side—everyone who had answered the advance invitations with an acceptance.
Duke Erwin and 18 retainers.
Count Bilter and 13 retainers.
Baron Kurt and 7 retainers.
Count Stefan and 12 retainers.
Duke Silvester and 20 retainers.
…
"And the chamberlain asked me to give you this as well."
The kingdom's chamberlain, giving me something? I looked and found it was the same sort of thing—a list of who would be attending the wedding from the kingdom side.
Count Louis and 23 retainers.
Count Gaston and 27 retainers.
Baron Tony and 15 retainers.
Count Jean and 24 retainers.
Duchess Michelle and 31 retainers.
…
I took both letters back to my room. I intended to examine them carefully here.
Ordinarily I wouldn't bother looking at this sort of thing.
But something was niggling at me. Namely, that damned Lady Roent.
Please, please do not let her be coming. I checked the Empire letter first.
Not there… not there… not here either.
Fortunately, Lady Roent's name appeared nowhere on the list.
I could have relaxed then, but just in case I checked the kingdom letter as well.
Good. Not here either.
I felt a deep, profound relief settle into the very core of me. No—wait. Better check one more time, just to be sure.
After the second and third pass, a strange sensation crept over me. A sense of wrongness, I suppose. Something was off.
What was it? What felt wrong? I spread the letters out again.
Empire side.
Duke Erwin and 18 retainers. Count Bilter and 13 retainers. Baron Kurt and 7 retainers…
Kingdom side.
Count Louis and 23 retainers. Count Gaston and 27 retainers. Baron Tony and 15 retainers…
Still nothing obviously strange. Yet something kept catching at me. The distinct feeling that I was missing something.
I stared at the letters, then set them side by side—and understood.
Empire side: Duke Erwin and 18 retainers. Count Bilter and 13. Baron Kurt and 7. Count Stefan and 12. Duke Silvester and 20…
Kingdom side: Count Louis and 23 retainers. Count Gaston and 27. Baron Tony and 15. Count Jean and 24. Duchess Michelle and 31…
Why were the numbers like this? Kingdom counts were bringing more attendants than Empire counts—more, even, than Empire dukes. That was not normal.
I added up the difference in retainers between the Empire and the kingdom.
Four hundred forty-seven.
That was the total of all those slightly inflated retinues. The kingdom guests were bringing four hundred forty-seven more retainers than their Empire counterparts.
What on earth did they intend to do with those four hundred forty-seven people?