Duchess Astra Denarla adored her new dress. It was made by a new elite talent from one of the many little villages situated about her province, and she was mildly considering employing the girl. A weaver with an elite talent was a rare find indeed.
Irritatingly, servants kept distracting her with updates on the invasion.
“Chamuet… do you think you could stop the invasion if I gave you… oh… ten thousand soldiers?” she asked idly.
“Their commander is General Foredeck, correct?”
“Reports have placed him at the scene of all the major battles opposing Neogon thus far,” she replied. “A woman resides with him. Blonde hair, young. Newly Talented. Very likely the daughter of Counselor Emmaline.”
“Frightful. Emmaline’s reputation is still daunting, even years after her disappearance. Still, just because a parent is gifted a mighty talent, that is no indication that the offspring will be.”
“I thought much the same. Factor the girl out of my question. Assuming she can be dealt with independently, what then?”
“In that case, I could easily dispatch the invasion, Duchess. I have seen Commander Foredeck before. I know how he thinks. I would struggle if given five thousand, and would not even find a challenge with fifteen. He would not be prepared, and his army would collapse without him. The mercenary companies depend on him for payment. Do you command it?” Chamuet asked, his tone perfectly even.
“No… just wondering if it could be done. Tell me, what do you think of this dress?” she asked.
To his credit, Chamuet paused to examine the article, putting that wonderful skill of his to work.
“The cut is divine, and the stitching... Twenty weavers working together might not be able to make so fine a cut. It is not the best dress I’ve ever seen by a long shot, but if this is what the girl made you on her very first try, with only a month-long deadline, she’s a goldmine. Her works will likely dictate Denarlan fashion for the next ten years. Maybe even all of Tacuria,” he said after an appropriate examination.
That was what she loved about Chamuet. No questioning. No panicking about the invasion. He was devoted to her, and better still, he had honest opinions that he freely gave her about everything. That he was a commoner made him all the more enticing.
He was her best. No matter how pretty this bauble of a girl was, she was nothing next to Chamuet.
The man had been just a peasant, with a common talent at that. Instead of wasting his points in farming or fishing or whatever peasants did, her little genius had decided to put all of his free points into the observe skill from the day he’d reached eighteen. At a certain point, well past three hundred, the skill started offering up information that the user could never have consciously gleaned. Accurate information. Sometimes about things so utterly irrelevant that they boggled the mind.
She wouldn’t be surprised if the man could name the season the silk that crafted this dress had been harvested in. In fact…!
“Chamuet, what season of the year was the silk of this dress harvested in?”
“The vast majority of it came from summer two years ago, Duchess. But some small bits of it weren’t harvested until the autumn.”
Magnificent.
“I agree with you about the dress,” she said. “Does the girl know her worth, or is she just a country bumpkin?”
He frowned. “Hard to say from just the dress. I might need to meet her to know for certain. She has an outside influence. Someone with a dreamer's talent, or something like that. Imagination alone doesn’t form ripples and veils like this. Not from a girl who’s never been more than a town away from her home, at least.”
“Might be a problem, but I doubt it. Will the war affect her?”
“Pemolar’s Hill is not near either General Neogon’s retreating force, or the last reported whereabouts of the Eschal Army.”
“Perfect,” Denarla hissed. “I believe she should be brought–!”
“She is, however, directly in the most likely line of travel that the rift break will take now that no one is defending the Eastern border.”
“Damnation!” she hissed. “Is she dead already?”
“Likely, Duchess, but some towns can prove surprisingly resilient. Shall I dispatch a courier?” he asked.
“No, dispatch a platoon and bring the girl here, immediately. I’ll not have her talents wasted on damn trolls. If you can determine the identity of the dreamer, have them get them too. Probably a lover or some such. That’s what peasants do, isn’t it? Fuck all day and night?”
Chamuet smirked.
“In my experience, royalty does much more of that than peasants, Duchess,” he said.
“Oh!?” she giggled. “Do tell? Has there been mischief afoot?”
“There have been rumors that the Duchess is slumming with a lowly commoner,” he said.
“The duchess is pretty sure her commoner doesn’t necessarily need his feet to be of service to her,” she said, smiling.
Chamuet was unfazed. “Ah, but then how would he gather the gossip his duchess so craves?”
Denarla pouted.
Chamuet chuckled. “I did notice recently that Lady Elu Fenior has taken to wearing high-necked collars. One might normally blame this on the weather, but Lady Elu has done so for a different reason. She seems to enjoy a bit of rough play, and not with her husband.”
“Hah! I always thought she was too good for that smarmy idiot she married. What was his name, Larat? Larak? It doesn’t matter.” Astra exclaimed. “Who is she off with?”
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“Lord Eredon,” he said.
The duchess blanched.
“Huh. Good for him, I suppose. I was expecting something more scandalous, like the stable master, or maybe a woman.”
“...and his wife,” the man finished.
“There we go…” she breathed, before letting out a cackle and flopping back onto her bed. “Oh, Chamu, whatever did I do before I met you?”
“I honestly don’t know,” He quipped. “You must have been incredibly bored.”
“Hah!” She laughed, delighted. “You’re not wrong. You know, at this rate, those rumors about us might actually be true someday. How about it? Do you think you could make a decent duke?”
“If the king didn’t have me murdered the next day, certainly,” he replied. “But he would, and then you’d be without your entertainment.”
“Bother,” she hissed. “That old man and his ‘propriety.’ As if everyone doesn’t know he’s got the queen’s wet nurse with child.”
“They don’t know that. You only know because of me,” he said fondly.
She paused.
“... You’re right. Shit, what did I do before I met you?”
“I think you used to daydream of being a good ruler, or some such nonsense. I’ve thoroughly corrupted you since.”
“Am I not a good ruler?” she asked.
“You did just decline to order me to stop an invasion of your own lands,” he replied with a shrug.
“... I hate you sometimes.”
“No, you don’t.”
“Fuck you, of course, I don’t,” she sighed. “If you were me, what would you do about the invasion? Keeping in mind that I won’t actually risk you.”
“Reinforce Neogon,” he said instantly. “You have a garrison thirty thousand strong here. Send fifteen of that to the front lines and five to the surrounding villages. They’ll be desperately happy for the support, and when the war is over, love for you will be at an all-time high.”
“When the war is over. You’re so confident?” she asked.
“Eschal was once led by a wise, caring, and desperate ruler, who lifted her people from the muck with her own sweat and blood. It is now led by a group of buffoons, who have more money than sense.”
“What are you talking about. Eschal never had a single leader. They’ve always had a council. Perhaps you don’t know everything,” Astra bit out.
“A council which bowed to the Chemist in all but name.”
The Duchess had thick skin and was well acquainted with being wrong, especially when it came to this particular commoner. She actually got a small thrill every time he refuted her. Ever since she’d become Duchess, no one else was ever brave enough to. It was all ‘That’s an astute observation, Duchess!’ and ‘Well reasoned, Duchess. Your wisdom is as great as your beauty!’ Never mind if she was speaking sense or a load of crock.
Once, she’d said something blatantly stupid to her entire advising staff just to see what they’d do. None of them had refuted her. Not one. If they weren’t powerful lords and ladies in their own rights, she’d have thrown the lot of them out and replaced them with common folk.
Heavens. It was a wonder she even had a brain. It wasn’t her they feared. It was her father’s wrath. Thankfully, her mother had prepared her well for this. She’d found at least one true advisor who wasn’t afraid to speak his mind.
Perhaps he was a little too willing to do so… but… well. She liked him.
“Truly? She bent the entire country to her whim?” she asked.
He shrugged.
“The council, at least. I’ve only been to Eschal twice, and I never met her. I also wasn’t quite as talented then as I am now. I cannot say for sure. Observe is not all-knowing, but I believe this war is a result of Emmaline’s utopia crashing down without her. Did you know even their lowliest dirt villages have lights that run on some bioluminescent bug?”
“Riveting,” the duchess said dryly.
“The Chemist’s daughter and her talent tie into it somehow. Do you actually have a method to get rid of her, or was that just smoke? It might be wise to let me Observe her,” he said.
Her reply was cut off by a sharp knock on the door, irritating the Duchess. Chamuet, unsurprisingly, didn’t react. He’d probably observed the fact that someone would knock.
“Enter,” she called.
The doors to her chambers opened. She winced as the lacquered metal doorframe scraped along the old stones of the castle, reminding herself for the hundredth time to have a servant fix that.
“Dinner will be served in the dining hall in one hour, Duchess, unless you would prefer to take your meal here again?” came Ildra’s scratchy voice. The woman had been a servant in the Dawn Castle since Denarla’s mother was in swaddling, and while Denarla knew she could technically order dinner brought to her rooms every night, she did not think it would be wise to do so.
She knew the value of a good servant, and just because Chamuet had proven to be so very fascinating over these past few months, that did not mean she should scorn the loyal service of someone like Ildra.
Astra sighed. “No, I’ll be down shortly.”
Her family was large, though she was the only direct descendant of the Duke. His brothers and sister had produced many cousins for her, and she had missed speaking with some of them. If only she could keep Chamuet with her during the–!
An idea suddenly crossed her mind.
“That is well, my lady. Come along, boy. You have taken up enough of the Duchess’s time and–!”
“Hold a moment,” Astra interrupted before regarding the man.
He glanced back at her, confused. Then he put that observation skill of his to work, and his eyes widened.
“Chamuet Stableman will be joining us at table. Would you be willing to dress him appropriately, Ildra?”
Ildra’s smile turned positively vicious as Chamuet panicked.
“Of course, my lady.”
“M-my Duchess. I do not feel I am worthy to sit table with someone so–!”
“Nonsense! You have proven yourself ten times over since you joined my staff. The least I can do is allow you to attend a fine meal,” she said, before turning back to Ildra. “Chamuet will meet you in the servants' quarters presently.
“Very well. I’ll see you shortly, young Stableman,” Ildra said before turning and closing the door. Bless the woman. She took care to lift it so the metal didn’t scrape the stone.
Chamuet glared at her.
“That was petty,” he said.
“I am petty,” she replied, bemused.
“Why did you do that?”
“Because I enjoy your company,” she said, allowing a little bit of vulnerability to seep through.
He blinked.
“Wait… genuinely?”
“Is it so shocking?”
“I… no. But… My lady… I… You must know that nothing can ever come of–!”
She placed a dainty finger against the man’s lips, silencing him. He was tall and had scraggy brown hair. She looked forward to seeing it with a comb run through it.
“Just enjoy the dinner, fool man,” she said, and gave him a peck on the cheek. “Best not keep Ildra waiting. I’d brush up on your etiquette while you’re at it as well.”
He groaned. “You torture me, my Duchess.”
“I do,” she beamed. “Don’t forget to compliment me on my dress, will you?”
“I… won’t,” he said, dazed.
Finally, finally, she had managed to shock the man.
She felt rather proud of herself.
Remember how I said I pushed back the interlude? Sorry. It couldn't stay away forever lol. It does push the plot though! Promise! Hope ya'll enjoyed! Honestly, I'm kinda proud of this one. I find it funny as hell, if I can say that about my own writing.
Till Next!
MB
