The Bell Tolls for Me

The days following Isabella and Valerio's successful suppression of Cesare's mercenaries could be described as incredibly successful. Isabella was indisputably cemented as the rightful regent of the kingdom, both by law and by political necessity. Her actions had been beyond reproach, both ceremonially and politically, and they would take note of that.

Other than the nobility, the commonfolk were incredibly endeared to Isabella. Overtly, she addressed the various petitions from those that had been wronged by the occupation of the mercenaries. The claims for justice were many, and those few problems that she could not resolve with the royal coffers she paid from her personal accounts. Covertly, however, Isabella made sure to sponsor creative works that advocated for her position and her qualities as a ruler. She had learned very well the impact of that even simple stage plays could have on the image of a ruler.

Both the overt and covert factors worked in tandem to create a very exceptional public image. Valerio was interpreted by most to be a savage beast that had been tamed by Isabella's virtue and charm. Isabella thought it was underselling him quite a bit, but Valerio himself didn't seem to abhor the reputation. He even claimed there was some truth to it. Isabella didn't know what to make of that.

"Your monkey took his eyes?" Isabella looked at Valerio with widened eyes as he explained what had happened on that day.

"He's not 'mine,' but yes. Sosen practices a different form of magic than you… or myself, for that matter." Valerio drank his coffee, preparing for today. "He was born with his magic. It existed within him from birth, entirely untamed by a mana lock or another such medium of magic."

"Innate magic, then. I've heard of it in people, but in monkeys…" Isabella raised a brow.

"Yeah. In a house of freaks, he takes the crown. His magic is part of what enabled him to develop intelligence far beyond that of his peers. To grow his magic, he must consume it from another source. In this case, he took out Cesare's eyes." Valerio inhaled deeply as he recollected. "I know I claimed to wish to torture the man, but I'm not inclined to base sadism—forgive me if you're disappointed."

Isabella shook her head. "No, I'm not… but really? He ate them?"

"Raw, yes. I'm not sure if that makes it worse. Upon sampling the delicacy, he said that the man was very talented, and regretted that he had to walk an ungodly route." Valerio shrugged. "He's very difficult to understand, Sosen. I think he's many centuries older than I am. We've an alliance—whenever I fight a spellcaster, he tags along. I keep him around to keep me humble. Whenever I start getting a big head, I remind myself that I live with a talking monkey that can beat most mages in a fight."

Isabella was again reminded of how vast the world truly was. It sounded so foreign from the magic that she had been studying. Many of the spells that she wished to learn were simply off the table for her on account of her diminished vessel.

"I wish we had time to talk more on this subject, but… I fear once we start, I'll not be able to stop."

"My answers are few, anyway." Valerio shook his head. "Talk to him yourself, if he's willing to see you. He refuses most visitors."

"I… see. Then today awaits." Isabella rose from her seat. "It promises to be just as busy as the ones before it."

***

Following Isabella's suppression of the mercenaries and the restoration of order in the city, the various nobles and princes that had been summoned to attend the interregnum council decided to leave their camps pitched outside the walls and enter the city proper. Isabella didn't delude herself into thinking that they trusted her more than Cesare, but her reign was legitimate, and legitimacy was as much of an expectation upon her as it was a grant of benefits. She needed to conduct herself properly to maintain legitimacy.

The most prominent of the five princes that intended to stake their claim in the Interregnum were the same that had once fought in the War of the Five Doves that Isabella had experienced in her past life. Seeing those five that had once engaged in a deadly blood feud sitting in the Royal Council table together, Isabella couldn't help but be proud of what he had achieved. The outbreak of war had seemed inevitable, but she had managed to fight against the tide… and win.

But the storm had not yet ended.

Now, things only became infinitely more complicated. They had spared themselves the tyranny of being dictated by that mercenary, but five distinct factions had gathered in the city, each with their own disparate interests that were at times fundamentally in opposition to one another. Isabella had her hands on the reins, but if she couldn't conduct these animals properly, war would most certainly break out again.

It was nearly impossible to find a compromise that could satisfy everyone. Even if it was found, it was harder still to make all parties accept it. But if anyone could do it, someone with knowledge of their previous life might stand the best chance.

"…then I believe that we have clarified every member of the royal family that is in contention to accede to the throne," Duke Brett said. "I have written and recorded the names of all 57 princes and princesses that have legitimate claims to assume the title of Sovereign of All Dovhain."

"Thank you for your diligence, Palatine." Isabella nodded her head to give due respect to the work of the duke, who remained as impartial and even-handed as she remembered. "Considering that this council has been under way for well over four hours already, I believe that a recess to sate our hunger and our thirst is well in order."

Most everyone looked enthusiastic at the idea. Isabella certainly was famished, but she wasn't eager to go to lunch. She had planned to dine with four individuals. Namely, four individuals sitting at this very table. She needed to be proactive in her handling of the situation, lest it spiral far out of her control. To that end… she had arranged for lunch with all four of the strongest princes except Roland. They would be joined by the leader of the faction that was backing them.

And perhaps, in those meetings, Isabella might be able to find a sovereign that could bring peace and stability to this land teetering on the edge of the pit of endless chaos.

***

Isabella had decided to hold the meeting that she dreaded having most first—that with Prince Amaury. Her memories of him were very few, but each and all were exceedingly unpleasant. She remembered him as a terrifying person who everyone walked in fear of. In the end, it had been Arthur himself who killed Prince Amaury, marking his first and only act that might be considered political.

No one had ever learned the reason that Arthur had killed the prince. Some said that it was because he held a great deal of affection for one of the princesses, but that rumor had never manifested in the years that followed. Others simply claimed that it was because the king had requested something so barbaric that Arthur's conscience was forced to eliminate the king. Having learned more of Arthur's character, she could see the latter being the case.

"Would you like me to take the lead?" Valerio asked her as they sat there waiting for both the meal and their guest in the royal gardens.

Isabella knew why Valerio was asking. He knew that she had endured some unpleasant impositions at the hand of this prince. "You're sweet, but… no. I cannot be seen to rely on you unduly, as it may spread rumors that you are the one truly controlling this regency."

Enjoying the story? Show your support by reading it on the official site.

Valerio nodded knowingly and gently pat her wrist. Not too long after, the first course of this four-course meal was brought out. Prince Amaury came right alongside it, entirely alone. Of all of the princes, he was unique in that he was the head of his own faction. He held a considerably dukedom that he had earned by his own merits, following his father's example as a commander.

She remembered Amaury as a dark, grim person, with gaunt, sharp features and a haunting glare. The man that came into view was bright, happy, and handsome-looking. Everyone claimed that he was the spitting image of their father. That claim wasn't true in appearance alone, either. Of all the princes, he was the only one who could claim great success in both the battlefield and in governance.

Prince Amaury came to stand across from Isabella. "Princess Regent Isabella. Duke Valerio," he greeted both of them respectfully. "I would like to thank you for the opportunity to dine with you. Time is a valuable commodity. That you would spend yours on me is an honor."

Isabella was taken back by the charismatic words spoken so easily. His entire demeanor was many miles away from what she remembered.

"I wished to open a channel of communication, as I believe you will be a very valuable contributor in this interregnum," Isabella greeted. "Let us enjoy a meal together merely as brother and sister."

"Ah." He smiled pleasantly as he pulled back his chair. "Then, in inviting such a notion in the company of the Duke of the Isles… may I assume this man is already cemented in your mind to be my brother-in-law?"

"You have objections?" Valerio began gruffly.

"Not a one!" Amaury held up his hands. "I must admit, I have a fondness for chivalric romances. From all I've heard, the Duke of the Isles was the only one to step forward when that lecherous Duke Albert made advances on you. I believe your behavior was commendable, Valerio—more than commendable, even. If anyone is deserving of Isabella's hand, I daresay it would be you. And considering your joint venture into the auction house… your partnership is inspiring. Would that I could be so lucky." He smiled wistfully.

Valerio seemed disarmed by the praise, and said nothing. Isabella thought Amaury might be attempting to demonstrate the breadth of his spy networks, but his words seemed genuine enough she couldn't be certain.

"Your own tales are similarly inspiring," Isabella said. "You conquered the Ossaire Reach at eighteen, yes? The land was filled with orcs… and yet in a mere four years, you've integrated them into the kingdom as subjects, well and true."

Amaury took a deep breath. "War is not so glamorous as tales would suggest," he said distantly. "But I'm proud of my governance of the land. The sentiment in the capital is that the orcs are barbarians that should be exiled, but in presiding over them, I've come to realize that there is as much that we can learn from them as they can learn from us."

Isabella pursed her lips at the unexpected gregariousness of her half-brother. The servants placed the meal at the table. "You recommended this course to the chef, yes? Tell me of it."

"Ah—of course!" Amaury said enthusiastically. "This fare was one that I discovered in Ossaire, actually. This bird…"

Isabella and Valerio enjoyed a pleasant lunch with a man that she didn't recognize at all. She had heard that Amaury had changed dramatically after being tortured by Roland, but she couldn't yet tell whether or not what she was seeing was merely a façade, or if the transformation had genuinely been that dramatic. The meal he recommended—a strange bird eaten whole, no larger than her thumb—was rich, pleasant, and intensely flavorful. She hadn't eaten anything like it.

During the whole of their meal, Amaury seemed optimistic, good-natured, free-spirited, open-minded… yet nevertheless firm and accomplished.

But then… Isabella had thought Bernadetta was many of those things.

They departed on pleasant terms. The next guest to her lunch was someone that she was already positively predisposed toward. Archduke Felix, and his future son-in-law, Prince Sylvain, joined her. It… did not begin as well.

"I am told you indulged the company of my brother, Amaury, before seeing me," Sylvain began without pretense. "I dislike these games of pageantry, and I dislike that I must now act as though 56 of my brothers and sisters have any manner of lawful claim to the throne. I will ask you outright, Princess Regent. Am I to take that you would favor my junior brother's claim over mine?"

Isabella only blinked, taken aback by Sylvain's intensity. "I favor peace and stability in the realm."

"Peace and stability are brought about by rule of law," Sylvain said, taking his seat. "As the eldest child, legitimate or otherwise, after Claude's abdication, I am the rightful heir to the throne. It is my obligation to be crowned king, and to rule this land justly and fairly as dictated by the gods."

Archduke Felix sat down beside Sylvain. "I believe that Princess Isabella merely wishes to assess your character, Sylvain."

"A king should not have character. Edgar and Claude indulged their failings of character, and the realm bled. A king should execute the laws established by his predecessors, and guide the realm in forging new ones." Sylvain set his powerful arms on the table. "You wish for character? I will tell it to you. A noble lord's highest duty is to protect his subjects from harm, ensuring their safety in times of war and peace alike. He must be just, ruling with fairness and resolving disputes with wisdom, so that his people feel secure and valued. A lord's care for his lands is equally important; he must oversee the harvests, ensure—"

"—ensure that his people have enough to thrive, and offer support in times of hardship. In exchange for their loyalty and labor, he provides not only protection but also stability and order," Isabella finished. "Thank you, Sylvain. You need not recite the entire passage."

"It's just a lunch," Valerio said with amusement. "Not a trial."

Sylvain tapped one finger on the table uneasily. "To what end?"

"To eat," Isabella responded dryly. "Let us discuss the course that you recommended."

"Recommended?" Sylvain looked around. "The servant inquired what I would enjoy for lunch."

"Yes. I intend to enjoy the same thing," Isabella confirmed.

"It—" Sylvain trailed off. "I was not aware it would be shared."

"Is it unusual?" Isabella asked. "I have acquired a taste for the bizarre, so fret not."

"It is what I eat every day for lunch," Sylvain explained.

Soon enough, one of the plainest meals that Isabella had ever eaten was brought out. It was a bowl of oat porridge, boiled root vegetables, broth of beef, a single slice of hard, flavorless goat cheese, and twice-boiled water flavored faintly with lemon. Sylvain seemed apologetic, but he never expressed that in words.

Sylvain was joyless, dour, stoic, and utterly humorless. Nevertheless, he had a very sharp mind and a constant intensity about him. He seemed to loathe wasting time and standing still, and fidgeted often—grinding his teeth, bouncing his leg, twitching his fingers. Isabella wasn't certain if he'd experienced an emotion in his life, but in her experience the people that seemed like that often merely hid them very well.

Isabella hated to admit it, but she was somewhat glad when he departed. Remaining behind was Archduke Felix.

"Isabella," the archduke said. "May I speak with you alone?"

"I trust Valerio. Anything that you say to me, I will likely share with him."

The archduke looked out into the gardens. "It concerns Abigail."

Isabella was willing to make an exception in that case. She looked at Valerio. "Give us a moment, please."

Valerio stood up, fixed the Archduke with a threatening glare, and then left.

"You have often asked me why I wish for Abigail to be queen," Felix said. "You are in a position of unprecedented authority, considering your station. I do genuinely believe that you care for my daughter. She's been having a rather hard time lately. I often see her clutching that necklace that you gave her when she is saddest, and it…" He blinked, as if warding away tears. "It breaks my heart."

Isabella tried to stay stalwart despite the mental image he spurred.

"If you come to my estate tonight, alone, I'll explain why Abigail must be queen," Felix declared.

"Alone?" Isabella repeated.

"I know that it is a great deal to ask. You must fear enemies from every corner, and I… have not always been magnanimous toward you." Felix took a deep breath and exhaled. "But if I am to extend the trust of discussing this monumental matter, I must ask you to do the same."

Isabella was left in turmoil as the archduke rose.

"Thank you, Princess Regent." Archduke Felix bowed.