The Bell Tolls for Me

The hall was quiet as Albert entered, flanked not by his knights but by two of Isabella's paladins. The throne room was packed with nobles, clergymen, and a handful of guild representatives. More simply, it contained all who knew the duke. The tension was silent but stifling. Scribes were present, recording this meeting in great detail.

Albert did not kneel. He stood just past the center of the chamber, facing Isabella as she waited with rigid posture before the throne. Valerio stood just beside her, iron and velvet standing together just as it had been when Cesare had met his end. Albert looked around at all of the various assembled personages, taking their measure with a simple a glance. Then, he swallowed and took a deep breath.

"I am Duke Albert of House Vaudrille," he began, his voice steady. "And I come not as a prisoner, nor as a supplicant, but as a noble bound by oath to the realm and its people. What I say now, I say freely… because it is my noblesse oblige."

All listened silently, hanging on Albert's every word.

"I confess that I conspired with Cesare, the bastard of the former Archbishop Pius, a mercenary and warlord, to influence the course of the interregnum council. I helped open the gates. I gave the order for him to occupy the capital under pretense of ensuring stability, but in truth to ensure that the votes fell in favor of my allies and my chosen candidate."

People could scarce believe what they were hearing. It was something that all of them knew… but for it to be admitted like this in the heart of the royal court with hundreds of witnesses in attendance was simply unthinkable.

"I knew Cesare's presence would silence dissent. I knew it would terrify the weak-willed into compliance. And I knew that so long as he remained outside the formal chain of command, I could disavow his actions when the time came." He paused to take a deep breath. "I confess, also, that I gave sanction for agents to neutralize Prince Edouard."

There was silence. Even the scribes hesitated for a breath before scratching their quills.

Albert turned to Isabella, meeting her gaze as he extended a sealed document in the air. "This is my confession, signed and sealed in my own hand."

Isabella let the words linger a moment. The notion of breaking her word ran through her head, time and time again. With words alone, she could out Albert as the snake that he was. She could vindicate her mother's untold story, her silent struggle. She could vilify her monstrous father, who all but certainly yet lived. She could make Albert—her first tormentor—writhe and squirm and scream. She could see him break down in tears as the holy paladins restrained him and severed his piggish head from his body.

Yet… it was the kingdom that mattered, not her satisfaction. And Albert's death being a quiet one was best for the kingdom.

"Let it be recorded," Isabella called out. "Duke Albert of House Vaudrille has confessed to conspiracy with Cesare, and to complicity in the assassination of Prince Edouard. In accordance with the law, the royal council shall convene today to mete out an appropriate judgment on the morrow." Her voice rang with finality. "For now, the confessor shall be placed under house arrest."

***

The royal council's judgment that day was swift and decisive. Duke Albert's auction house was nationalized, to be auctioned off within its own halls. A large chunk of the duke's territories was absorbed into the crown's domains—conveniently, prepositioned administrators and soldiers were ready and waiting. The duke would retain his heartland alone, and abdicate to be imprisoned for life. All was precisely as Isabella had agreed. People would know that she had gone to meet Albert that night, and they had to have known that she had caused this. They would be watching her reaction.

If the buzz had been considerable after Albert's confession, it became a positive maelstrom after it was revealed that he died in his bed the very same night. The entire capital had the incident on their lips, discussing all manner of rumors and supposed secrets that they had acquired. This was the most considerable thing that had happened since the death of Edgar the Great. In one fell swoop, the whole of Duke Albert's house had been diminished to the wealth and power of any other dukedom in the kingdom.

Yet the royal court was particularly vicious.

Valerio walked down the halls of the palace, his gait quick yet quiet. He heard chatting courtiers in the hall.

"…heard that Isabella gave Albert the last thing he wanted—her first night. After that, he had need for neither worldly possessions nor life, so he chose to surrender both."

Valerio stopped midstride, then changed directions. In a few moments he came in view of the two courtiers. Their faces went pale.

"Duke Valerio, I didn't—"

Valerio grabbed the man that'd spoken by the neck, then picked him up and forced him through the stained-glass window.

"What was that?" Valerio said, his voice calm despite his actions. "Royal slander? I do so love when people show their nature when they think they're safe." The other one ran off, and Valerio let him go. "Your punishment is inevitable, but I'll give you a choice. You can chance surviving the fall when I let you go, or you can die relatively painlessly by the axe."

The man looked absolutely terrified, hesitant to thrash out lest he fall a great distance.

"So… let go, or the axe?" Valerio pressed. "If you want me to let go… nod. Better yet, scream in enthusiasm."

The author's narrative has been misappropriated; report any instances of this story on Amazon.

The man shook his head fiercely. Already, the one that'd run retrieved the holy paladins, and they stormed up.

"Duke Valerio," one of them said. "Put the man down on the floor."

Valerio tsked. "Very specific. I was hoping you'd say, 'release him.'" He looked over. "Why should I? He slandered the princess regent—I heard it, as did his companion. His punishment will be death regardless."

The holy paladin said something more, but as he did, more swarmed into the place. Among them was Gaspar. After many pleas for reason, only one worked.

"Valerio," Gaspar called out. "What do you think Her Highness would want?"

Valerio's nostrils flared. He threw the man back inside. The loudmouth noble inhaled deeply and grabbed at his back, where shards of glass had dug in. Gaspar gave Valerio a nod, but the duke only stormed off. Gaspar gestured to the holy paladins, who seized the man for healing… and questioning.

***

"Still, you shouldn't have done that," Isabella said, applying a poultice to a cut on Valerio's hand after punching the glass.

"I was completely in the right," Valerio argued. "Whoever that was had no business talking about you in that fashion. All this morning, I've heard the most reprehensible things. Something had to be done for it to stop."

"You must have known there was going to be some backlash for such a dramatic upheaval. The nobles can see the writing on the wall. With Duke Albert out of the picture and much of his territories absorbed into the crown's domain, royal authority is ascendant. They're testing, probing—and you fed into that. That rumor will only be bolstered by your extreme reaction. They'll claim that your defenestration was an expression of your rage at being cuckolded." Isabella looked up at him. "You'll break all of the windows in the palace by the end of the month if you don't change your reaction."

"I won't tolerate it," Valerio insisted. "If I hear something, I'll do something."

Isabella narrowed her eyes and then splashed some alcohol on his cut. He winced. "Are you so weak-willed that words alone can provoke your anger? Are you so easily-manipulable that some irrelevant fourth son of a fourth son can play you like a child?" Isabella rose, shaking her head in disapproval. "I think… these rumors are so concerted, well-coordinated, that they must be planned. Bernadetta must be responsible."

"I'll not defend her, but… how do you know that?" Valerio asked, a brow raised as he finished tending to his cut.

Isabella didn't respond, her gaze going distant as she contemplated interactions with Bernadetta in her last life. Sosen had claimed that vision was truth—subconscious realities gathered from her mind. Thinking of it, her ascent to the throne following her last brother's death had been incredibly smooth. Bernadetta had been with her the whole way, giving subtle advice and pushing her in the direction that was best. Now that she knew what she knew, Isabella didn't think that was a coincidence.

"I think that Bernadetta is the single largest threat to us," Isabella declared, turning back. "And I think we need to proceed with that assumption. You have people watching her, yes?"

"I do," Valerio confirmed.

"Double the scrutiny," Isabella said. "We must keep her contained."

There was a knock at their door, and a few moments later, Alice opened up and entered.

"Your Highness… I know that you said that you weren't especially fond of Lady Bernadetta, but she sent over a gift, and I… think you should see it," the young girl said quietly.

At that, Isabella and Valerio both followed Alice out to see what had been sent. When she saw the gift, her mind froze. She stared for a few moments, unable to think or speak.

"…looks just like you," Valerio said quietly.

Alice had explained nothing, but Isabella knew what it was within seconds. Isabella saw her mother for the first time, captured in portrait. Pale skin, black hair, deep purple eyes… Camilla looked thin and elegant. She had a subdued smile on her face—one that Isabella herself often saw in the mirror on her own face. She wore a beautiful black and gold dress, and had her hands placed politely before her.

"Perhaps… you see what I mean, now. She knows this game better than I can imagine, I'm sure. Because I know what she is, and yet this…" Isabella wiped away a tear, then exhaled. "Alice… I'd like this brought to my room."

"In the palace?"

"No." She looked to Valerio. "To our home."

***

"I have to commend you on a masterfully executed… execution," Archduke Felix said, sitting beside his daughter Abigail.

The three of them were meeting in the royal palace this time—not public, but definitely not private either. That signified something, and it would be a signal heeded by every noble paying attention.

Isabella shook her head. "It wasn't my work alone. And that's why I'm here today, you see. If I know you, I think that you're as troubled as I am about what happened, and who was responsible."

"Lady Bernadetta," Felix finished.

"Yes." Isabella nodded. "Also… I came here to make an official declaration. I've decided I shall support Prince Sylvain, completely and utterly."

Felix leaned in excitedly. "What of Prince Amaury?"

"I'm hoping that he's someone that can be reasoned with. He showed himself to be very open and amicable. Sylvain has legal right on his side. While he's very brusque and hard to understand, there's no denying that he diligently works in service of the realm. And above all…" Isabella looked to Abigail. "I want Abigail to live a long life. I believe your story."

Abigail smiled brightly—a rare look on her. "And I… I'd like you to be there with me for that life. But given what I've seen of you—"

"I've had Arthur investigating what you saw," Isabella interrupted. "My… death. And no, I didn't mention the background you gave me. I think it's fixable," Isabella said optimistically.

Abigail looked somewhat surprised, but nodded her head. "Given that it was accelerated from when I first saw it, I assumed it was unnatural. Then… someone is trying to poison you?"

"Not in an orthodox way, but I have reason to believe so, yes." Isabella took a deep breath. "In the end… though I can make some preparations, all roads lead to one path. We must win the kingdom, completely and utterly. Not the nobles… but the true foundation of the kingdom."