Fic: The White Dove - Part 2
2022-Jun-01, Wednesday 06:50 pm![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png){kind=small}
summeryewberryHeader in Part 1
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Chapter 2: The Maiden Blanche
Early the next morning, Laurent marched down to Paschal's rooms. New energy spurred him: he was going to get to the bottom of all this, one way or another.
The Auguste in the bed was still being guarded by Jord and Lazar, but Laurent ignored them for the moment, instead stepping closer to the physician so that they could speak privately.
"How has he been?"
"Sleeping like a lamb all night," Paschal said, grinding something up in his mortar. "I wish all my charges were so docile."
Laurent gave him a look at the word 'docile'.
Paschal cast a glance at the dagger at Laurent's hip in reply. "I heard you threatened him when you found him. He is still chained. You will not need any blades in here, Your Majesty."
"Let us hope not," Laurent said, observing the heavy chains on Auguste's wrists and the cuffs not unlike Akielon slave cuffs, though these were made of iron instead of gold.
He stepped towards the bed.
Blue eyes watched him the same as the day before, but today they were clearer and more focused, and even more eerily familiar.
"Laurent?" Auguste's voice also retained the same confusion from the day before.
"I told you to call me 'Your Majesty'." Laurent kept his voice as cool as his face. When he looked at Jord, the man shook his head. No answers there then. "Have you decided to tell me the truth today?"
"I can only tell you what I know," August said.
"And what is that?" Not that Laurent expected any further answers than Jord had got out of him.
Auguste took an audible breath. "It's like I told Jord, the last I remember was a battle at Marlas in Delfeur, trying to push back the Akielon incursion. I remember facing Prince Damianos of Akielos, crown prince to crown prince, to decide the fate of the battle and to put an end to the war. He was better than I expected." Auguste sighed. "I was exhausted and I remember looking down and seeing his blade. I don't remember any pain, but I do remember looking up at the sky and being very cold."
Laurent suppressed the shudder that crept up on him, as though someone had just walked over his grave.
"I only remember the sky and the silence, until I heard men around me again. That's when I tried to get up but I was so weak I think I collapsed in some greenery. This is the palace at Arles, isn't it? I remember these rooms. I don't know how I got here after-"
The rage that rose with each word finally exploded. "Lies!" Laurent spat out. "Stop lying!"
Blue eyes gazed shocked and hurt back at him, and his heart lurched against his will.
No. He steeled himself.
It was all a trick, as everything in Arles had ever been, and Laurent knew better.
"I'm not-"
"Enough!" Laurent cut off any further lies before the aching hole in his chest could swallow him completely. "Did you see how much you looked like Auguste and decide to claim the crown for yourself? Hoping to fool an entire kingdom? Or did someone else help you and bring you here?"
Those large, innocent eyes gazed up at him, more confused than anything else. "I don't know what you're talking about. You are my little brother, aren't you? You look like-"
"Stop playing games and answer my questions!" Laurent snapped, layering his words and his face as cold as knew how. He was definitely back in Arles now. "Who brought you into the gardens?"
"I don't know!" Auguste snapped back for the first time. "Laurent, please..."
"I did not give you permission to use my name," Laurent reminded him. "How did you get into the palace?"
"I don't know! I don't know what happened! I swear it! I give you my word!"
"Your word means nothing to me."
Laurent had rarely seen Auguste's eyes this injured, and his own heart ached with unwanted sympathy. He exhaled, feeling the pain and letting it settle as ice around his heart. The ice, at least, he knew as an old friend. He couldn't let this impostor get to him, no matter how much he looked like his beloved brother. This palace of pain hadn't broken him before and it would not do so now.
When he breathed in again he was aware of the blade at his hip, and even more aware that steel was not the most dangerous weapon in this kingdom.
"You will remain here until you regain your strength," Laurent said. The last thing he needed was for a look-alike Auguste to be seen around the castle. There were far too many other snakes in Vere who could and would use that against him. "After that you will be escorted to the dungeons. That is, unless you decide to start telling the truth."
"I swear to you, I'm telling you everything I know."
"Then we know where we stand."
Laurent turned, trying not to show how unsettled he felt before he left the room. He remembered only too well what a mistake it was to let the people of Vere see any weakness. Perhaps one day, when his uncle's courtiers and supporters had been purged, when contact with Akielos had had a chance to affect the people of Vere it would be safer, but he had a lot of work to do before that could happen.
Enguerran and Rene stayed silent by his side as he closed the door again behind him, simply falling into step when he turned again towards the library.
"What news of my brother's statue?"
"Nothing, Your Highness," Enguerran answered. "Servants have searched the palace and grounds and found no sign of it. No one from the city saw anything either, but we can do a more thorough search next if you like."
"No." It would take too long and take too many of his guards away from the palace. It would be far easier to commission a new statue. "Follow me!"
The library was empty this morning, without even a scholar hunched over any of the tables. Only the librarian sat in a corner, working on a heavy tome.
Before he started on his uncle's documents again, Laurent turned to his guards. "Rene, have you told Enguerran about your suspicions among the soldiers?"
"No, Your Majesty. I would not share concerns without your permission."
"Tell him. It may become important to know which men we can rely on in the coming weeks and months."
Rene nodded and Laurent left them to return to the archives.
But his mind wouldn't stay on task. Lists of funds and foes weighed across the pages, a hundred things Laurent would need to dismantle and reassign, and after a while political manoeuvring and minor legal amendments started to blur into the tile pattern across the library floor.
After finding his eyes once again tracing the blue and brown tiles rather than the pages in front of him, Laurent stood to study the shelves instead.
Perhaps a small break would help with his focus.
This place had always been a haven for him. Even during those long years after Auguste's death, when nothing but anger and pain drove him, Laurent had found respite here. Books in Akielon had helped him learn the language of those people who had taken his brother from him, and books of political history from his own country gave him new direction. Even the tales of fantastical figures had helped him forge a new way forward, if only so that he could one day protect his people from his uncle's machinations.
In the fiction section, he found a large leather bound book that had once lived in his room, long before the war with Akielos even began. The gold lettering on the spine was almost completely worn away now, and Laurent knew from memory that the pages would be thick and luxurious between the covers.
The book was in his hand before he was aware of it.
He lifted his chin and refused to feel foolish as he carried it back to his table.
The gold-edged pages were just as he remembered, Auguste's neat writing inside the cover:
Little Prince Laurent,
On your fourth birthday, with all my love.
Your brother,
Auguste.
Near the end of the book was the story he had been looking for: the tale of the Maiden Blanche.
Once there had been two lovers, the soldier and the maiden, until the soldier died in battle. For seven years the maiden mourned her lost love by speaking to him every night in her heart. She refused all other suitors and had no desire to wed anyone else in all those years. Then, one night, a white dove appeared to her in her dream. The dove gave her a task, to travel to the end of the country where the ocean swallowed the land, to find the impossible tree there, and to bring back a branch with a single fruit on it.
The story ended when the maiden did as the dove told her, and the bird appeared to peck at the fruit. With each bite, the dove grew smaller, until it shrank into nothing. The next morning her lost lover lay beside her in bed, smiling and alive.
It was a fairy tale, of course, but one that was well known enough in Vere that someone could exploit it to confuse or deceive others.
Laurent rolled the thought around in his head.
Thanks to his newest sergeant he knew of at least one Lord plotting to move against him, and there were undoubtedly others. Once Lord Vitalis arrived Laurent would have a chance to find out who else was currently conspiring against the Crown. No doubt one of them would know who this "Auguste" really was. All Laurent needed to do was find the information.
As the day before, Laurent took his lunch in the informal hall, with only his guards and a few of the more loyal courtiers for company. Berenger and Estienne had their pets of course, and they were a much needed distraction from Laurent's concerns. Soon, he knew, he would need to play host to the less loyal courtiers too if he wanted to maintain the peace in his kingdom.
"How are you finding your return to Arles so far, Your Majesty?" Berenger asked. He looked happy, and while some of that was undoubtedly from Ancel taking a piece of sweetmeat from Berenger's fingers, Laurent knew the man was just as glad to see him returned to Arles as King.
"It is much as I remember," Laurent said, ignoring Ancel's tongue curling around Berenger's fingers in a distinctly teasing way. "But I can confide one thing in you: I look forward to moving the capital south."
Berenger was quiet as he took a bite himself with his free hand. "The new palace at Marlas?"
"Yes," Laurent said. "When I last saw it a few weeks ago, building was proceeding very well." He had never wanted a pet, and had never enjoyed Damen being at his side when they were both pretending he was one of them, but there was something in the familiarity Ancel and Berenger shared that made Laurent acutely aware of how far away his own lover was right now.
"Then I hope you will find your happiness there, Your Majesty," Berenger said, gently. "Unfortunately, there are people who say that in abandoning Arles you are abandoning Vere."
"I'm aware of the challenges." Laurent picked up a grape and examined it; probably from the vines of Ladehors, if he could judge by that deep purple colour. "There may be a new palace at Marlas, but the judicial capital will remain at Arles for the foreseeable future, if only until we can sort out some consistent laws between our countries. That should pacify some of the more traditional men of the law. In the meantime, I'd like your help building connections with some of the more distant Lords and courtiers who might be an advantage to have at my back."
"My help?" Berenger smiled, his face lightening with genuine joy. "It would be my honour."
"I've always been able to count on you," Laurent told him, honesty. "You too, Estienne. I will appreciate your advice now and in the future."
"You have our support," Estienne added, the lines on his face deepening with his smile. "I hope you have never had reason to doubt that."
"I have not."
The real challenge would be tomorrow's feast to mark the official return of the King to Arles, where former allies of his uncle would be gossiping about whatever slander his uncle had left them with. At best, they would be trying to ingratiate themselves with their new king. At worst, they would be actively plotting against him. Laurent looked forward to it.
He hadn't been back in Arles long enough to see many of the courtiers yet, although he knew that any pets younger than seventeen had been banned. It had been a compromise. Fourteen remained that age of adulthood in Akielos and twenty-one in Vere. Future laws about adulthood would need to strike a balance if their countries were ever going to reunite. It was one reason Laurent had chosen to keep the countries' law courts separate for now. There was more work to be done before many of the historical laws could be smoothed out.
For now, at least, Laurent could relax in the knowledge that no one younger than seventeen would be exploited under his watch. Those former pets that had not yet reached seventeen were now receiving schooling and apprenticeships, paid for by his own treasury. Anyone who had not yet released their child pets would face the new law of the land.
Sitting in his palace hall now, the food was just as he remembered, the sounds of the palace the same, and even most of the paintings and furnishings remained as they had been since his childhood. It was home, and yet in many ways it had not been a home to him since the war's end. When he considered where home might be now, the only thing he could think of was Damen's smile. On this, his head and his heart were in agreement: moving to a joint capital in the south was the new start the country needed.
By the door, some guards exchanged words, and Rene made his way around the side of the room to approach.
When he was close enough, Rene bent so that he could speak quietly to Laurent: "Lord Vitalis has arrived. He is currently being distracted behind the stables."
"Distracted?"
Rene smiled mysteriously and stepped back without answering. Laurent's interest rose.
"My Lords," Laurent turned to his companions again, "I'm afraid duty calls. Thank you for joining me today and I hope to see you again at the formal feast tomorrow."
The men at the table inclined their heads in assent.
Laurent followed Rene out the door, picking up Enguerran, Huet, and a handful of other guards along the way.
"One of my men was a child pet before he became a soldier," Rene explained. "Thibault volunteered to keep Lord Vitalis distracted until you arrived."
That answered one of Laurent's questions: having a former child pet among his men was certainly one good reason for Rene to mistrust the old Regent.
"Did Vitalis bring guards with him?"
Rene's smile was grim. "No. I don't think he has any reason to suspect he has been discovered."
"Good."
Lord Vitalis wasn't connected enough to be coordinating any large-scale resistance against the Crown, but that didn't mean he couldn't cause trouble. His lands were in West Barbin and known mostly for wool which made him wealthy but geographically isolated from the major trading routes. Really, he should have been encouraging Laurent's deals with the seafarers and the trading connections those would bring him through Marches. But Lord Vitalis had never been known for his intelligence either. It would be better for all if he was removed from his lands and they were managed by someone with a brain. Even half a brain would be an improvement.
And right now, Vitalis had arrived to his own funeral.
If Laurent could play him the right way, he could smoke out whoever was really behind the rebellious Lords - perhaps even whoever had placed a lookalike Auguste in his court - and if there was one thing Laurent excelled at, it was playing people.
"Captain, make sure Vitalis cannot escape before we question him."
"As you wish," Enguerran made a few gestures and some men peeled off down a side corridor without even needing verbal orders.
The stables were quiet apart from a few stable-hands changing the hay. Two more guards left to make their way around the other side of the stables, leaving Laurent with only Enguerran and Rene. Horses crunched on their hay or napped in the stalls, snorting quietly as the men passed. Only the distant ringing of the farrier's anvil echoed across the yard where the packed dirt muffled the sound of footsteps.
Behind the stables they came across two men: an older noble draped in jewellery, and a man of Laurent's age, with pretty eyes and ivory skin that looked even paler against his jet black hair. The younger man's fingers danced over the noble's beard, drawing attention with touch and movement and holding his gaze until the very last moment. By that time guards had already surrounded him.
Between one blink and the next, Thibault's eyes went flat and cold, and he stepped back in guard stance. In one move, his sword was in his hand and he was a deadly and trained guard again.
"Lord Vitalis de la Rocha," Laurent said.
The noble spun to face him, a little off balance with clear surprise. "Your Highness!"
Laurent raised an eyebrow at the prince's title.
"I was not aware you had returned to Arles already!" Vitalis babbled, his eyes darting around at the circle of armed guards. "The welcome feast-"
"-is tomorrow, yes," Laurent cut him off. "Unfortunately, you won't be attending. You've been discovered plotting against the King and are therefore guilty of high treason. The punishment for treason, as you know, is death."
Vitalis dropped to his knees. At least he had that much self-preservation. "Please! There's been some kind of mistake."
Laurent didn't give him the chance to think of excuses. He waved a lazy hand at his guards. "Huet, take him to the dungeons; he'll be executed tomorrow at dawn."
"No!" Vitalis's cry echoed off the palace walls.
Laurent turned pointedly turned away from him to face Rene instead. "Good work, Sergeant. You are doing your new position credit already."
"Please! Your Majesty!"
Laurent hid a smile as he started walking away. So the traitor did know the correct form of address for a king.
"Have mercy! I beg you!"
Vitalis continued to shout as Laurent headed back the way he had come. He calculated that a few paces should be more than enough. Vitalis was not a strong man, after all.
"Please! I have a family!"
In the end, it took seven steps for Vitalis to break.
"I can give you names!"
Laurent turned slowly, affecting boredom. "I have been called a lot of names."
Vitalis blanched. "The names of the Lords loyal to your uncle! The ones moving to have you removed from the throne! The Lords-" he continued to struggle between Huet and another guard while Laurent watched, "Lords Emilion, Naudet, and Foucault! They have all spoken to me about replacing you with a new regent and council!"
Emilion, Naudet, and Foucault were all northern Lords with whom Laurent was vaguely familiar from his uncle's feasts and entertainments. He stopped to think, letting Vitalis hang in that charged moment. Getting the names was the easy part. Proving treachery would be more difficult. Some stategic provocation might help there.
"Vitalis," Laurent began, "as of this moment you will be stripped of your land and title, and you and your family will be turned out from those lands. However, in recognition of your help in identifying the traitors, you will be provided a small farm for your family to live. Be thankful I'm not having the skin flayed from your back. May your daughters make better choices with their lives than you have shown."
The former Lord collapsed between his guards and Laurent could hear the sobbing as he walked away. The sound was mostly relief because everyone knew execution would have been well within his rights for high treason, but this man was neither the brains nor the willpower behind the plot. A far larger threat lay among those other three Lords. Unfortunately, Laurent didn't know them well enough to tell which. Yet.
Enguerran stayed behind to oversee the guards marching their charge out of the palace, leaving Rene to accompany Laurent back inside.
Rene was silent and grim, prompting Laurent to ask: "Your thoughts, Sergeant?"
"He was plotting against the Crown; I'm surprised you let him live."
"I told him the truth. He gave up his allies and I gave him mercy. If the rest of my uncle's allies are smart they will see it that way too. If not, they will be dealt with the same way my uncle was. Do you remember the names?"
Rene smiled. "Lords Emilion, Naudet, and Foucault, and I have men I trust in mind already."
"Good. Look into those Lords; ask questions without arousing suspicion. Try to find out what they are up to and who they are talking to."
Laurent returned inside with a sense of satisfaction. Whatever was happening in Arles, whoever was destabilising things in Vere and threatening Laurent's rule would be exposed and dealt with, and whoever had sent that impostor Auguste would face all the consequences they deserved.
That night, Laurent's dreams were about his brother, all in white with large, feathered wings at his back.
On to Part 3.
Back to Part 1
Chapter 2: The Maiden Blanche
Early the next morning, Laurent marched down to Paschal's rooms. New energy spurred him: he was going to get to the bottom of all this, one way or another.
The Auguste in the bed was still being guarded by Jord and Lazar, but Laurent ignored them for the moment, instead stepping closer to the physician so that they could speak privately.
"How has he been?"
"Sleeping like a lamb all night," Paschal said, grinding something up in his mortar. "I wish all my charges were so docile."
Laurent gave him a look at the word 'docile'.
Paschal cast a glance at the dagger at Laurent's hip in reply. "I heard you threatened him when you found him. He is still chained. You will not need any blades in here, Your Majesty."
"Let us hope not," Laurent said, observing the heavy chains on Auguste's wrists and the cuffs not unlike Akielon slave cuffs, though these were made of iron instead of gold.
He stepped towards the bed.
Blue eyes watched him the same as the day before, but today they were clearer and more focused, and even more eerily familiar.
"Laurent?" Auguste's voice also retained the same confusion from the day before.
"I told you to call me 'Your Majesty'." Laurent kept his voice as cool as his face. When he looked at Jord, the man shook his head. No answers there then. "Have you decided to tell me the truth today?"
"I can only tell you what I know," August said.
"And what is that?" Not that Laurent expected any further answers than Jord had got out of him.
Auguste took an audible breath. "It's like I told Jord, the last I remember was a battle at Marlas in Delfeur, trying to push back the Akielon incursion. I remember facing Prince Damianos of Akielos, crown prince to crown prince, to decide the fate of the battle and to put an end to the war. He was better than I expected." Auguste sighed. "I was exhausted and I remember looking down and seeing his blade. I don't remember any pain, but I do remember looking up at the sky and being very cold."
Laurent suppressed the shudder that crept up on him, as though someone had just walked over his grave.
"I only remember the sky and the silence, until I heard men around me again. That's when I tried to get up but I was so weak I think I collapsed in some greenery. This is the palace at Arles, isn't it? I remember these rooms. I don't know how I got here after-"
The rage that rose with each word finally exploded. "Lies!" Laurent spat out. "Stop lying!"
Blue eyes gazed shocked and hurt back at him, and his heart lurched against his will.
No. He steeled himself.
It was all a trick, as everything in Arles had ever been, and Laurent knew better.
"I'm not-"
"Enough!" Laurent cut off any further lies before the aching hole in his chest could swallow him completely. "Did you see how much you looked like Auguste and decide to claim the crown for yourself? Hoping to fool an entire kingdom? Or did someone else help you and bring you here?"
Those large, innocent eyes gazed up at him, more confused than anything else. "I don't know what you're talking about. You are my little brother, aren't you? You look like-"
"Stop playing games and answer my questions!" Laurent snapped, layering his words and his face as cold as knew how. He was definitely back in Arles now. "Who brought you into the gardens?"
"I don't know!" Auguste snapped back for the first time. "Laurent, please..."
"I did not give you permission to use my name," Laurent reminded him. "How did you get into the palace?"
"I don't know! I don't know what happened! I swear it! I give you my word!"
"Your word means nothing to me."
Laurent had rarely seen Auguste's eyes this injured, and his own heart ached with unwanted sympathy. He exhaled, feeling the pain and letting it settle as ice around his heart. The ice, at least, he knew as an old friend. He couldn't let this impostor get to him, no matter how much he looked like his beloved brother. This palace of pain hadn't broken him before and it would not do so now.
When he breathed in again he was aware of the blade at his hip, and even more aware that steel was not the most dangerous weapon in this kingdom.
"You will remain here until you regain your strength," Laurent said. The last thing he needed was for a look-alike Auguste to be seen around the castle. There were far too many other snakes in Vere who could and would use that against him. "After that you will be escorted to the dungeons. That is, unless you decide to start telling the truth."
"I swear to you, I'm telling you everything I know."
"Then we know where we stand."
Laurent turned, trying not to show how unsettled he felt before he left the room. He remembered only too well what a mistake it was to let the people of Vere see any weakness. Perhaps one day, when his uncle's courtiers and supporters had been purged, when contact with Akielos had had a chance to affect the people of Vere it would be safer, but he had a lot of work to do before that could happen.
Enguerran and Rene stayed silent by his side as he closed the door again behind him, simply falling into step when he turned again towards the library.
"What news of my brother's statue?"
"Nothing, Your Highness," Enguerran answered. "Servants have searched the palace and grounds and found no sign of it. No one from the city saw anything either, but we can do a more thorough search next if you like."
"No." It would take too long and take too many of his guards away from the palace. It would be far easier to commission a new statue. "Follow me!"
The library was empty this morning, without even a scholar hunched over any of the tables. Only the librarian sat in a corner, working on a heavy tome.
Before he started on his uncle's documents again, Laurent turned to his guards. "Rene, have you told Enguerran about your suspicions among the soldiers?"
"No, Your Majesty. I would not share concerns without your permission."
"Tell him. It may become important to know which men we can rely on in the coming weeks and months."
Rene nodded and Laurent left them to return to the archives.
But his mind wouldn't stay on task. Lists of funds and foes weighed across the pages, a hundred things Laurent would need to dismantle and reassign, and after a while political manoeuvring and minor legal amendments started to blur into the tile pattern across the library floor.
After finding his eyes once again tracing the blue and brown tiles rather than the pages in front of him, Laurent stood to study the shelves instead.
Perhaps a small break would help with his focus.
This place had always been a haven for him. Even during those long years after Auguste's death, when nothing but anger and pain drove him, Laurent had found respite here. Books in Akielon had helped him learn the language of those people who had taken his brother from him, and books of political history from his own country gave him new direction. Even the tales of fantastical figures had helped him forge a new way forward, if only so that he could one day protect his people from his uncle's machinations.
In the fiction section, he found a large leather bound book that had once lived in his room, long before the war with Akielos even began. The gold lettering on the spine was almost completely worn away now, and Laurent knew from memory that the pages would be thick and luxurious between the covers.
The book was in his hand before he was aware of it.
He lifted his chin and refused to feel foolish as he carried it back to his table.
The gold-edged pages were just as he remembered, Auguste's neat writing inside the cover:
Little Prince Laurent,
On your fourth birthday, with all my love.
Your brother,
Auguste.
Near the end of the book was the story he had been looking for: the tale of the Maiden Blanche.
Once there had been two lovers, the soldier and the maiden, until the soldier died in battle. For seven years the maiden mourned her lost love by speaking to him every night in her heart. She refused all other suitors and had no desire to wed anyone else in all those years. Then, one night, a white dove appeared to her in her dream. The dove gave her a task, to travel to the end of the country where the ocean swallowed the land, to find the impossible tree there, and to bring back a branch with a single fruit on it.
The story ended when the maiden did as the dove told her, and the bird appeared to peck at the fruit. With each bite, the dove grew smaller, until it shrank into nothing. The next morning her lost lover lay beside her in bed, smiling and alive.
It was a fairy tale, of course, but one that was well known enough in Vere that someone could exploit it to confuse or deceive others.
Laurent rolled the thought around in his head.
Thanks to his newest sergeant he knew of at least one Lord plotting to move against him, and there were undoubtedly others. Once Lord Vitalis arrived Laurent would have a chance to find out who else was currently conspiring against the Crown. No doubt one of them would know who this "Auguste" really was. All Laurent needed to do was find the information.
As the day before, Laurent took his lunch in the informal hall, with only his guards and a few of the more loyal courtiers for company. Berenger and Estienne had their pets of course, and they were a much needed distraction from Laurent's concerns. Soon, he knew, he would need to play host to the less loyal courtiers too if he wanted to maintain the peace in his kingdom.
"How are you finding your return to Arles so far, Your Majesty?" Berenger asked. He looked happy, and while some of that was undoubtedly from Ancel taking a piece of sweetmeat from Berenger's fingers, Laurent knew the man was just as glad to see him returned to Arles as King.
"It is much as I remember," Laurent said, ignoring Ancel's tongue curling around Berenger's fingers in a distinctly teasing way. "But I can confide one thing in you: I look forward to moving the capital south."
Berenger was quiet as he took a bite himself with his free hand. "The new palace at Marlas?"
"Yes," Laurent said. "When I last saw it a few weeks ago, building was proceeding very well." He had never wanted a pet, and had never enjoyed Damen being at his side when they were both pretending he was one of them, but there was something in the familiarity Ancel and Berenger shared that made Laurent acutely aware of how far away his own lover was right now.
"Then I hope you will find your happiness there, Your Majesty," Berenger said, gently. "Unfortunately, there are people who say that in abandoning Arles you are abandoning Vere."
"I'm aware of the challenges." Laurent picked up a grape and examined it; probably from the vines of Ladehors, if he could judge by that deep purple colour. "There may be a new palace at Marlas, but the judicial capital will remain at Arles for the foreseeable future, if only until we can sort out some consistent laws between our countries. That should pacify some of the more traditional men of the law. In the meantime, I'd like your help building connections with some of the more distant Lords and courtiers who might be an advantage to have at my back."
"My help?" Berenger smiled, his face lightening with genuine joy. "It would be my honour."
"I've always been able to count on you," Laurent told him, honesty. "You too, Estienne. I will appreciate your advice now and in the future."
"You have our support," Estienne added, the lines on his face deepening with his smile. "I hope you have never had reason to doubt that."
"I have not."
The real challenge would be tomorrow's feast to mark the official return of the King to Arles, where former allies of his uncle would be gossiping about whatever slander his uncle had left them with. At best, they would be trying to ingratiate themselves with their new king. At worst, they would be actively plotting against him. Laurent looked forward to it.
He hadn't been back in Arles long enough to see many of the courtiers yet, although he knew that any pets younger than seventeen had been banned. It had been a compromise. Fourteen remained that age of adulthood in Akielos and twenty-one in Vere. Future laws about adulthood would need to strike a balance if their countries were ever going to reunite. It was one reason Laurent had chosen to keep the countries' law courts separate for now. There was more work to be done before many of the historical laws could be smoothed out.
For now, at least, Laurent could relax in the knowledge that no one younger than seventeen would be exploited under his watch. Those former pets that had not yet reached seventeen were now receiving schooling and apprenticeships, paid for by his own treasury. Anyone who had not yet released their child pets would face the new law of the land.
Sitting in his palace hall now, the food was just as he remembered, the sounds of the palace the same, and even most of the paintings and furnishings remained as they had been since his childhood. It was home, and yet in many ways it had not been a home to him since the war's end. When he considered where home might be now, the only thing he could think of was Damen's smile. On this, his head and his heart were in agreement: moving to a joint capital in the south was the new start the country needed.
By the door, some guards exchanged words, and Rene made his way around the side of the room to approach.
When he was close enough, Rene bent so that he could speak quietly to Laurent: "Lord Vitalis has arrived. He is currently being distracted behind the stables."
"Distracted?"
Rene smiled mysteriously and stepped back without answering. Laurent's interest rose.
"My Lords," Laurent turned to his companions again, "I'm afraid duty calls. Thank you for joining me today and I hope to see you again at the formal feast tomorrow."
The men at the table inclined their heads in assent.
Laurent followed Rene out the door, picking up Enguerran, Huet, and a handful of other guards along the way.
"One of my men was a child pet before he became a soldier," Rene explained. "Thibault volunteered to keep Lord Vitalis distracted until you arrived."
That answered one of Laurent's questions: having a former child pet among his men was certainly one good reason for Rene to mistrust the old Regent.
"Did Vitalis bring guards with him?"
Rene's smile was grim. "No. I don't think he has any reason to suspect he has been discovered."
"Good."
Lord Vitalis wasn't connected enough to be coordinating any large-scale resistance against the Crown, but that didn't mean he couldn't cause trouble. His lands were in West Barbin and known mostly for wool which made him wealthy but geographically isolated from the major trading routes. Really, he should have been encouraging Laurent's deals with the seafarers and the trading connections those would bring him through Marches. But Lord Vitalis had never been known for his intelligence either. It would be better for all if he was removed from his lands and they were managed by someone with a brain. Even half a brain would be an improvement.
And right now, Vitalis had arrived to his own funeral.
If Laurent could play him the right way, he could smoke out whoever was really behind the rebellious Lords - perhaps even whoever had placed a lookalike Auguste in his court - and if there was one thing Laurent excelled at, it was playing people.
"Captain, make sure Vitalis cannot escape before we question him."
"As you wish," Enguerran made a few gestures and some men peeled off down a side corridor without even needing verbal orders.
The stables were quiet apart from a few stable-hands changing the hay. Two more guards left to make their way around the other side of the stables, leaving Laurent with only Enguerran and Rene. Horses crunched on their hay or napped in the stalls, snorting quietly as the men passed. Only the distant ringing of the farrier's anvil echoed across the yard where the packed dirt muffled the sound of footsteps.
Behind the stables they came across two men: an older noble draped in jewellery, and a man of Laurent's age, with pretty eyes and ivory skin that looked even paler against his jet black hair. The younger man's fingers danced over the noble's beard, drawing attention with touch and movement and holding his gaze until the very last moment. By that time guards had already surrounded him.
Between one blink and the next, Thibault's eyes went flat and cold, and he stepped back in guard stance. In one move, his sword was in his hand and he was a deadly and trained guard again.
"Lord Vitalis de la Rocha," Laurent said.
The noble spun to face him, a little off balance with clear surprise. "Your Highness!"
Laurent raised an eyebrow at the prince's title.
"I was not aware you had returned to Arles already!" Vitalis babbled, his eyes darting around at the circle of armed guards. "The welcome feast-"
"-is tomorrow, yes," Laurent cut him off. "Unfortunately, you won't be attending. You've been discovered plotting against the King and are therefore guilty of high treason. The punishment for treason, as you know, is death."
Vitalis dropped to his knees. At least he had that much self-preservation. "Please! There's been some kind of mistake."
Laurent didn't give him the chance to think of excuses. He waved a lazy hand at his guards. "Huet, take him to the dungeons; he'll be executed tomorrow at dawn."
"No!" Vitalis's cry echoed off the palace walls.
Laurent turned pointedly turned away from him to face Rene instead. "Good work, Sergeant. You are doing your new position credit already."
"Please! Your Majesty!"
Laurent hid a smile as he started walking away. So the traitor did know the correct form of address for a king.
"Have mercy! I beg you!"
Vitalis continued to shout as Laurent headed back the way he had come. He calculated that a few paces should be more than enough. Vitalis was not a strong man, after all.
"Please! I have a family!"
In the end, it took seven steps for Vitalis to break.
"I can give you names!"
Laurent turned slowly, affecting boredom. "I have been called a lot of names."
Vitalis blanched. "The names of the Lords loyal to your uncle! The ones moving to have you removed from the throne! The Lords-" he continued to struggle between Huet and another guard while Laurent watched, "Lords Emilion, Naudet, and Foucault! They have all spoken to me about replacing you with a new regent and council!"
Emilion, Naudet, and Foucault were all northern Lords with whom Laurent was vaguely familiar from his uncle's feasts and entertainments. He stopped to think, letting Vitalis hang in that charged moment. Getting the names was the easy part. Proving treachery would be more difficult. Some stategic provocation might help there.
"Vitalis," Laurent began, "as of this moment you will be stripped of your land and title, and you and your family will be turned out from those lands. However, in recognition of your help in identifying the traitors, you will be provided a small farm for your family to live. Be thankful I'm not having the skin flayed from your back. May your daughters make better choices with their lives than you have shown."
The former Lord collapsed between his guards and Laurent could hear the sobbing as he walked away. The sound was mostly relief because everyone knew execution would have been well within his rights for high treason, but this man was neither the brains nor the willpower behind the plot. A far larger threat lay among those other three Lords. Unfortunately, Laurent didn't know them well enough to tell which. Yet.
Enguerran stayed behind to oversee the guards marching their charge out of the palace, leaving Rene to accompany Laurent back inside.
Rene was silent and grim, prompting Laurent to ask: "Your thoughts, Sergeant?"
"He was plotting against the Crown; I'm surprised you let him live."
"I told him the truth. He gave up his allies and I gave him mercy. If the rest of my uncle's allies are smart they will see it that way too. If not, they will be dealt with the same way my uncle was. Do you remember the names?"
Rene smiled. "Lords Emilion, Naudet, and Foucault, and I have men I trust in mind already."
"Good. Look into those Lords; ask questions without arousing suspicion. Try to find out what they are up to and who they are talking to."
Laurent returned inside with a sense of satisfaction. Whatever was happening in Arles, whoever was destabilising things in Vere and threatening Laurent's rule would be exposed and dealt with, and whoever had sent that impostor Auguste would face all the consequences they deserved.
That night, Laurent's dreams were about his brother, all in white with large, feathered wings at his back.
On to Part 3.
