Nemorosis
patreon
The Bell Tolls for Me 22: Battle of the Brush
🕑 Added 2025-02-22 01:04:41 +0000 UTC“I think that you wouldn’t be disappointed by the evening, Your Majesty,” Isabella said lightly. “A debutante ball is for men as much as it is women. This one in particular has fine art—and I can speak to its quality.”
“Hmm.” Edgar rubbed his chin. “I’ve been very busy lately. Council meetings tend to drag on and on—so many problems.” He looked back to one of the holy paladins standing nearby. “At least I can rely on Gaspar. He’s been a pleasure. Thought he’d been dropped as a child at first, but he’s shaped up. Small learning curve, I suppose. I can really only rely on him and the paladins to keep the kingdom in shape. Still… a debut?”
“How do you believe father found the majority of his mistresses?” Isabella leaned closer. “Debuts just like this one.”
Edgar looked over. “A fair point. A very fair point.” He slammed the armrest in the chair he sat on. “Very well. I’ll attend. If it’s boring, I can simply leave early.”
“Thank you, Your Majesty,” Isabella dipped her head.
“Heard you’ve been leaving the palace daily with Duke Valerio,” Edgar said. “I dislike how close you’ve gotten with him. It’s as if you’ve forgotten who you are, what your place is. You claimed you’d be able to chain him, leash him. But if the dog has broken away from its owner and simply runs around the park freely, a chain just becomes an accessory, no?”
Isabella swallowed, then decided to misdirect. “I’ve acquired some very valuable information about him, Your Majesty. The Ambrosians write what they call Relazioni, which provide comprehensive analyses on people or places. I’m parsing through one written about Valerio, now, and I promise you that it’ll be of immense valuable.”
“Hmm.” Edgar rubbed his chin. “On another subject, Albert’s been pestering me, nagging. I see the benefit of an armada, but Albert is a good ally.” He looked at her. “What would you say to posing for a painting of his, just to placate him? He’s right that you are quite beautiful, Isabella. He claims he could enshrine you as a goddess for time immemorial. I can see the benefit of putting you forth as an icon of sorts.”
Isabella felt her whole body tense up. “Perhaps I’ll… I’ll speak to him at… the debutante ball,” she managed.
“Decent idea,” Edgar nodded. “Well, we’ll see. You’re dismissed.”
***
A servant walked out of the king’s chamber, looking around. Then, he moved over to a man leaning up against the corner of the wall. He walked past the corner, then leaned up just beside it. Technically they were next to each other, but an observer in either hallway would only be able to see one of them.
“The king intends to attend Lady Abigail’s debutante ball,” the servant whispered quietly. “Only two holy paladins will be attending him as guards. After, he’ll most likely stay out drinking. That’s simply what he does. He could be back earlier if he brings a girl.”
“Hmm,” the listener said. “Who’s reliable that night?”
“I won’t be working then,” the servant said. “But the Royal Attendant of Hygiene is paid off. You can use him for whatever you need. So long as we take care of his sister, he’ll do what needs to be done, even if it means getting caught.”
“Alright,” the other said. “We’ll smuggle some items in tonight. Get them stationed somewhere, so we can retrieve and deploy them quickly. Can’t be any mistakes, now. The final hour’s almost here.”
“There won’t be,” the servant said, then quickly walked away before a passerby saw them.
***
Isabella looked around the establishment of the tailor that Duke Valerio had reserved. From the quality of the wood to the sheen of the decorations, she could tell that this place wasn't cheap. The outfits and fabrics on display were all top-quality, and the attending staff were as well-trained as any she had seen within the royal palace.
“I’m not sure that I want to spend coin on something this fancy,” she told Duke Valerio quietly, who looked around the place.
“I’ll buy whatever you like,” he said while looking around. “So, rest easy. The man should be out to greet us in a few minutes.”
After their conversation about trust, Isabella found it a little easier to accept his offer to pay for her things. Still… some of the facts that she’d read from Archduke Felix’s reports stuck in her mind. Valerio had captured or sunk thousands of ships, and had sent some of the greatest admirals in the world to retirement. Before that, he had been an explorer and a navigator, sailing far, far away to lands previously uncharted by their people.
Valerio’s Relazione was so thick that Isabella hadn’t the time to read all of it. But some things caught her eye.
“You’re twenty-five, aren’t you?” Isabella asked.
“Four,” he corrected. “Why?”
Isabella walked up to a display and picked up a wide-brimmed white hat, studying it and its majestic red feather. “Can you use magic?” she asked bluntly.
Valerio’s head snapped toward her, but he didn’t say anything.
“They say that no voyage you’ve ever undertaken has had bad winds,” Isabella said, walking back toward him with the hat in her hand. “They say that you can throw a dagger between ships and hit your target perfectly in the neck.”
“That’s a rather particular phrasing. I’d recognize those words anywhere. You’ve been reading the Relazioni.” Valerio said with a brow raised, and his lips tightened in the slightest of frowns. “You could’ve asked, but… I’m fine with my past. Learn what you will. As for your question, magic isn’t the only force in this world.”
“It’s the only I think might be able to master the wind,” Isabella countered.
“Then you’d think wrongly,” he said evenly. “Still, this is hardly pertinent. Put it out of your mind. Be at ease knowing I’m capable of protecting you should the need arise.”
“If you want me to simply put it out of my mind, then I’ll never be able to trust you,” she said pointedly.
Valerio considered that in silence for a few moments, and then he looked over. “Do you remember when you asked if my eyes have always been this color?”
Isabella nodded. “I do.”
“No, they haven’t always been like this,” he finally confirmed. “I gave away my soul. In exchange, I can call upon certain powers. The mark of that contract is carried in my eyes.”
Isabella blinked in disbelief. “Gave your soul… to a devil, then?”
Valerio laughed, looking back to the outfits on display. “No. I gave it to people as mortal as you or I. Well… perhaps they’re a little less mortal. They charged me with leading, protecting, and guiding them. In return, they bestowed some measure of their collective abilities upon me. And if they should ever deem I broke that vow, they’ll break my soul.”
Isabella looked at him, verging on both disbelief and wonder. “I’ve never heard of such a thing.”
“I would prefer it not become common knowledge,” he said. “And I do hope you never have to see me use it, because that means there’d be danger around.” He took the hat out of her hand and put it on her head. “Looks nice. Do you want it?”
“I like the way hats look, but I hate wearing them,” she admitted.
“So… perhaps I should wear one,” he said, taking it off her head and putting it on his own. It didn’t fit at all, and Isabella laughed lightly upon seeing it.
To the right, someone cleared their throat. Isabella turned, and the tailor stood there.
“Forgive me for interrupting,” he said in tight, polite speech. “But I’m ready to receive you, Your Grace, Your Highness.”
Isabella looked at Valerio, surprised he’d given their ranks to this man.
“Forgive me for outing your titles, but it is my duty to know these things,” the tailor said.
“To charge the right price, I imagine,” Valerio said good-naturedly. “Well, I’m glad of it. Isabella?”
“Whenever you’re ready,” she responded.
***
"It is with great honor and distinction that we present two of the most esteemed figures of our noble court this evening. Entering as partners in both grace and purpose, please welcome the radiant Princess Isabella of Dovhain, daughter of His Majesty King Edgar the Great of Dovhain and bearer of the noble bloodline of the Royal House of Dovhain.
“And by her side, we are equally privileged to present Duke Valerio of the Isles, esteemed Lord Admiral of Dovhain, commander of the fleets that defend our coasts, and a stalwart protector of the realm. Duke Valerio joins us this evening as a man of honor, valor, and distinction. Together, they embody the strength and grace of Dovhain, uniting the lands and the seas, as we honor their presence and their partnership on this glorious night.”
After the master of ceremonies had made that grand announcement, Isabella and Valerio entered side-by-side, her hand placed atop his. He was as steady as a mountain. The outfits that they’d chosen at the tailor were especially intricate, and she’d been worried that there wouldn’t be enough time… but looking at Valerio, she’d been entirely wrong.
Isabella wore a soft, ethereal gown in silver, supported by soft, shimmering ivory, made primarily of silk and satin and minor implementation of cloth-of-silver. She wore a large garnet necklace of a color almost matching her eyes. Valerio also wore silver, but while her outfit was accented with ivory he had black to better match his hair, eyes, and tanner complexion. She had always thought him handsome, but now she could say without doubt that he would attract a great deal of attention from the ladies here today.
Despite the many gazes directed their way… many more eyes were elsewhere. Particularly, they were on the many paintings that Isabella had chosen. Masterpieces of the future like The Garden of Languid Whispers, The Serpent’s Embrace, or The Music of Petals … they were all on display.
But art was as much about salesmanship as it was the piece itself.
Duke Albert stood with a coterie of well-respected art collectors—nobles, most of them, but some highly successful merchants were in attendance. Already, they regarded the pieces. They would be doing their best to denigrate and lower the value of what was here. Isabella, meanwhile, would be doing her best to raise their value.
Today would be long and arduous. It was on more even ground than she’d experienced at the ambassadorial reception, but against far fiercer opponents who had a great deal to lose from her success. There was a reason that Duke Albert had such a stranglehold over artistry all of these years. He was an adept promoter, with a shrewd eye for art.
“I think it’s overdue for him to die,” Valerio said as she watched Duke Albert. “But for now… a little wound will do.”
Isabella looked at him in surprise. With how much blood he had on his hands, she couldn’t tell if he was being metaphorical or not. But… whether he being literal or otherwise…
“He should look like a stuck pig by night’s end,” Isabella agreed vengefully.
<Previous Table of Contents Next>
Comments
WarStrider72
How about an arrow through the pig, courtesy of Katniss?
WarStrider72
Thanks for the chapter!
