The Beast and The Swallow

Limris - the jewel of the imperial crown, the Millennium City, the Seat of the Saints. It spammed over countless big and small islands, nestled in the shallows of the Ethreian Gulf. Washed by the warm currents that traveled all the way from the Sea of Zirath, Limris was a paradise of flowers, greenery, and architecture, despite it being situated on the north-eastern edge of the Empire. Filigree stone bridges criss-crossed the natural and man-made channels, connecting the islands together. Parks and gardens competed in their colorful resplendence with imposing buildings and palaces. Golden domes gleamed amongst painted tiles. Needle-like towers overlooked bubbly fountains, mighty colonnades, and marble-paved plazas. But no building was more exquisite than the residence of the Imperial Family.

Built a thousand years ago, Castle Mondesan was a city within the city. Terraces and narrow pathways cascaded downhill, creating a labyrinth of walls and stairs. Courtyards, palaces, and citadels climbed the slopes of the small dormant volcano crowning Limris' largest island. The residence of the emperor throned at the summit, a magnificent building of gold and colorful marbles imported from all corners of the empire. Below it, the residences of the lower members of the imperial household and the most prominent noble families dotted the evergreen landscape.

In a sunny courtyard just below the walls of the imperial dwelling, Primate Leopold lay lazily in a recliner, enjoying the weather. He had hung his black habit on a low tree branch, the cool breeze caressing his skin through the thin golden undershirt. At his feet, Father Ermin was busy wrestling with Pixie, the large black lioness purring with excitement. With cool white wine in a crystal carafe and a platter of fruit and sweetmeats, It could have been the perfect afternoon. Alas, the tiny piece of parchment in Primate Leopold's hand greatly soured his mood.

"A saint candidate!?" he squeezed through his teeth, his fingers mercilessly crumpling the paper. "Dear Fathers, I know I'm a sinner, but this!?"

Ermin released the black lioness from his grip and drew a line with his finger from the corner of his eye to his chin while his face twisted in a sad grimace.

"Overdramatizing? Who, me?" Leopold rolled his eyes. "Tell me, why shouldn't I be dramatic? Noah's wife might be a saint! Don't you realize what a boost this is to the power of Norden and the Crown Prince? Lionel might be in trouble."

Pixie gently growled and nudged her master with her snout, but Ermin just patted her absentmindedly. The cleric then touched the index fingers and thumbs of both hands, creating a large circle. He placed the circle over his head before breaking the shape and throwing a questioning look at his lover.

"Even if the Duchess' sainthood turns out to be false, she is most likely an acolyte. A powerful one, judging from the report. It is still a disturbance of the power balance I don't like."

Scratching his head, Ermin repeated the halo sign, then grabbed his left wrist with his right hand and made a pulling motion towards Leopold. The crease between the older cleric's brows became deeper.

"And how do you see me taking her away without starting a war?" He pinched his nose. "From all the reports we have received, the boy is very smitten with her. And he never trusted the Church… not that we have given him any reason to do so. If we take her by force, Noah will definitely rebel, and we'll have to deal with Norden for years! On the other hand, having her in Llewelyn's camp can bring some of the neutral nobles to his side. Worse, this might persuade the populace that Llewelyn and his bloodline have divine approval. Limeria can't afford to have a sick, short-lived ruler, followed by a regency battle."

Ermin opened his mouth and quickly closed it. To Pixie's dismay, he stood up and went to the table where he picked up his slate and a piece of chalk. After a few strokes, he handed the slate to his lover and fixed him with his gaze.

"Why not Lionel as regent?"

"Because I don't think he is… the nurturing type." Leopold handed the slate back to Ermin, who erased it and began writing again.

"What about you?"

"Me, a regent?…" The older cleric thought for a moment. "And what about the battle for the position of Grand Pontifex? If that fanatic Ambrosinus wins, a holy war against the Marzbanats and a cleansing of the Binshi in Norden would be as good as certain. Oh, and don't forget his obsession with searching for the Sky Gate. Should Ambrosinus helm the Church, it will be only bloodshed and chasing myths."

For a while, Ermin remained with his head dipped between his shoulders. His hand hung over the slate before slowly starting to scribble.

"Then, are we going to remove her?"

Primate Leopold froze, his tilted head propped on the tips of his fingers. He looked around, noticing Pixie grumpily disappearing in the surrounding bushes. When he spoke, his voice was as soft as the wind:

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"Only as a last resort."

Ermin's fingers drummed on the table as he stared at his friend expectantly. The look in his golden eyes was so innocent that one could hardly imagine that their owner had suggested a cold-blooded murder just a second ago. This forced a wry smile on Leopold's lips.

"The best way," he mumbled, "is to make Noah give us the girl willingly. No. Don't you roll your eyes at me! This is the ideal scenario, not the most plausible one. Now, how do we play it so that we end up as the good guys, taking that stray lamb into the Church's guiding embrace?"

"Crazy bastard!" scribbled Ermin with a sour expression.

"Who? Me or Noah?"

"Both!" The younger cleric wiped the word with the side of his hand and angrily chewed his lip. Then he began writing, completely disregarding grammar and syntax in the name of speed. "Only way Noah give girl willingly if he dead. He dead - impossible. You IDIOT against killing girl. Even if we take girl by force, girl useless if not cooperating. Or you want jail her forever? Then better kill!"

"True." Leopold scratched his short beard. "But maybe… Noah is quite the chivalrous type. He will likely play his card as the girl's husband and protector. There is, after all, the precedent of Saint Cillia residing in the domain of her husband instead with the Church…"

"But she was raised by the Church, and her husband was the brother of the Grand Pontifex at the time. "

"Yes, but Noah will still try to use this as proof that there is no need for the Church to take charge of the girl. And we will agree to this."

Ermin blinked at him, shocked.

"Of course, we will agree." Lively sparks lit in the older cleric's eyes. "Under the condition that he can provide adequate protection to the new saint. Or acolyte. There have been enough mishaps in the last several months that speak otherwise. And if we can create another situation where he fails to protect the girl… I know Noah. The thought of being unable to shield the ones he loves makes him vulnerable… and pliable. If we can convince him that, for the well-being of his lover, he needs to let go of her and leave her under our protection… Not the Church's in general, but the Night Brothers'... And he still has some trust in me, or at least more trust than in Ambrosinus and his goons. I think we might have a chance! And once she is with us, we can use her to… gently nudge Noah into a neutral position. As long as Norden stands away from the battle for the crown, Lionel will ascend without problems and won't have any reason to attack Noah and his domain."

"Unnecessarily complicated. Too many if-s. It's easier and cleaner to kill. And Lionel is a vindictive snake."

"No!" There was hardness in Leopold's voice, and his expression clouded. "Killing is always the easy way, but seldom the right one. Lionel is young, impulsive, and scarred. The constant fights for the throne have dulled his morals. But he is a good boy, Er, somewhere deep down."

"Very deep, indeed."

"I know that he has done some… very questionable things. But he has shown a quick and flexible mind and determination. And also… an emperor needs a bit of ruthlessness. We are here to make sure he doesn't dirty his hands all too much. The fewer the killings on the way, the better."

"Yet you close your eyes at his attempts to kill Noah."

The words on Ermin's slate scalded Leopold like the infernal fires of the Nether Realms. He opened his mouth to refute, but after several excruciating seconds, he clenched his teeth in silence. Ermin was right, of course, but Leopold knew there was a good reason for his behavior towards Lionel. Right? He had promised Sophia to protect the boy. Lionel had grown up without the love and guidance of a mother, forced to face the harsh struggles of the Imperial Palace. It was natural to develop a ruthless streak, while Noah…

Leopold shuddered, driving away those thoughts.

If Noah was weak enough to die at the hands of a boy five years his junior, it was his destiny and a result of his shortcomings. From all five brothers of the current emperor, Leopold was the sole survivor. The Imperial Family's succession had seldom been an all-out bloodbath, yet the rivalry between the heirs had been a long-encouraged and established tradition. It showed character and formed the crucial skill to scheme and gather allies. It was a test of knowledge and ability. An empire as large and as old as Limeria had its enemies, within and outside of its borders. A strong emperor was a guarantee for a peaceful reign.

Rubbing his face, Leopold decided to put aside his worries and try to enjoy the sun and the tranquility, as long as they lasted. As for Lionel and Noah, he was going to do what he always did - try to minimize the damage.

Just as he was about to fill his glass with fresh wine to drown the embers of his guilt, the loud rustle in the bushes startled both priests.

"Pixie has caught something again," said Leopold, but still sat straight in his recliner, his eyes searching the thicket. Next to him, Ermin's whole body tensed in weary anticipation.

The next moment, a large black body rolled out of the bushes, accompanied by leaves and twigs. between its large paws, the lioness held something that looked very much like…

"Pixie, let go!" screamed Leopold and shot from his seat, followed by Ermin. The little hands desperately grabbing the black fur were those of a child. Any moment now, and red blood was going to spill over the fresh grass. Over the low growls, the child's shrill scream… turned into loud giggles.

Out of breath, the two clerics gaped as the lioness purred friendly and licked the child's face. The little hands patted and stroked the silky sides of the feline as their owner snuggled against the large chest.

"Enough, Pixie!" Leopold grabbed the skin at the lioness' neck and pulled her up and away like she was a kitten. Under her, a young, disheveled child, no older than eleven, blinked at the men with huge blue eyes.

"Grand-uncle, Father Ermin… Uhm… hello…"

"Prince Leonte?!" Relief, surprise, and anger mixed in Primate Leopold's voice. "What are you doing here?"