Chapter 63: The Season of the Minotaur (12)

“She’s a royal?” Simon asked as Odette gave him a rundown of the current political situation.

“Lady Satine Renais of Magvolia is a cousin of this country’s deposed royal family,” Odette confirmed. “She fled to Valne in exile when Louis defeated the crown-prince in battle and marched onto the capital. She’s been the centerpiece of the traditionalist and monarchist forces trying to re-establish Magvolia’s independence ever since.”

So she was technically a princess on top of everything, if a fallen one. It truly was just like a fairy tale.

Considering that the compass reacted to her, it suggested that Magvolia’s royal family interbred with one of the elven archmages who sealed away the Stone Muse at some point. Simon was pretty certain the country had been founded in the chaotic era that followed the Doom. Perhaps the elves had a hand in its creation, the same way they had influenced Lore’s?

Still, this didn’t explain why the War Party would tolerate the return of a monarch-in-exile in their conquered territory, unless…

“I see how it is now,” Simon said as he pieced everything together. “This land is awash with resentment, and sympathy can purchase the commoners’ love.”

“Indeed,” Odette confirmed. “The fear of bombardments has prevented monarchists and legitimists from making any obvious move against the War Party’s regime, but neither have they supported them in the conflict with Euphemia. Lady Renais also took the royal family’s treasury with her when she went into exile, which could help fund more troops. I have heard Princess Lauriane made overtures to Lady Satine by promising her the rank of governor and limited autonomy over Magvolia in exchange for her support. She is here to discuss the terms in person.”

“Or so she says,” Simon replied, knowing very well that Lore and Valne were hammering out a deal with Euphemia to liberate Magvolia by force. Princess Satine was likely only indulging the War Party in order to distract them and gather information. “How deceitful are those who are draped in false innocence.”

The heralds called for attention with their trumpets, catching everyone’s attention. Simon half-expected Lauriane to show up, only for different names to be announced.

“Lords and ladies, please welcome Lord and Lady Flauros!” the herald called out.

Tiella walked into the room holding her husband’s arm, much to the crowd’s acclaim.

Leonard’s sister and Duke Flauros’ heir, Robert, made for quite the grim pair. Tiella was wearing a black mourning dress, and her husband was clothed in a red doublet bearing the burning leopard emblem of his house. It was Simon’s first time meeting the man, and the rumors that he was cold as ice appeared rather likely at first glance. His short blonde hair was arranged with military precision, his short beard trimmed around a strong, sharp jaw, and his icy blue eyes appraised everyone present with suspicion. Robert Flauros radiated pure sternness.

His wife was no different. Her shyness was gone, burned in resentment’s embers. Her brother’s Crestone glittered on her necklace like a reminder of what she had lost.

A wave of guilt struck Simon when he saw it. He had left the Crestones of the imperial soldiers on their corpses to better blame their demise on a monster attack rather than an organized ambush, especially since he couldn’t recover most of them anyway. He had hoped the memento would have been enough to convince Tiella that her brother’s death was just a random tragedy and that she should let the matter go.

She clearly didn’t.

Tiella came seeking vengeance. Simon could see it in her fiery gaze. He knew she would do that—she had sworn revenge on a Noble Class-wielding lich once after all—but he had hoped against all odds she would let it go.

Odette met his eyes for a moment. “I have to greet these people as Whispermire’s lord-mayor. Will you accompany me?”

“Of course,” Simon replied in spite of the risks. He had to check whether or not Duchar’s pendant would be capable of hiding him from the Paladin, dryads, or anyone overly sensitive to the Dark. He should also assess if he could waylay Tiella before she did something foolish. “I would be delighted to make their acquaintance.”

Odette nodded and then led him to Alphonse’s group first, which had been swarmed by sycophants and hangers-ons. This allowed Simon to take a closer look at Satine. She was probably around eighteen, slightly younger than Alphonse, with lilac eyes, graceful features, and a dark purple ribbon adorning her lighter hair. Although she smiled politely at the courtiers coming to greet her, she did so demurely and with slight shyness that reminded Simon of Cassandra.

Alphonse, however, immediately frowned when he spotted Simon approaching. His gaze carried more suspicion and curiosity than shock or hostility, but he did seem uneasy all of a sudden.

Damn it. Alphonse’s Paladin senses could feel something was wrong with Simon in spite of his protection, albeit not enough to react with surprise or overwhelming hostility. Simon suspected that Alphonse could sense a Dark-aligned aura coming from him, but not one so overwhelming as to instantly out him as the Overlord or a powerful demon.

“Lady Satine, I am Odette Kano, Lord-Mayor of Whispermire,” Odette said respectfully. Simon guessed that using the princess honorific would mark her as a closet monarchist and thus a suspected rebel in the War Party’s eyes. “It is a pleasure to welcome you to our humble town.”

“The pleasure is shared, Lady Kano,” the princess replied courteously. “I was but a child when we last met. I stood in the room when you took your first oath of Lord-Mayor to my uncle in the capital, seven years back. I am happy to see you survived the troubled times that followed.”

Was that a hint of displeasure Simon sensed beneath the courtesy? He had the suspicion that the princess saw Odette as the opportunist she was.

“Your fabled memory is as sharp as they say,” Odette replied, either missing or ignoring the princess’ disguised hostility. She then proceeded to introduce Simon. “But where are my manners? This is Samuel Titivillus, a monster parts trader from Telluria.”

“A pleasure,” Simon said as he kissed the princess’ hand, which caused Alphonse to squint at him. Pretending to suddenly notice this, Simon extended his hand to the princess’ retainers. “I see your retainers are quite mindful of your safety.”

Alphonse was slightly taken aback by the gesture—likely because the other guests pretended to not notice him or the rogue—but clumsily took the offered hand. “It’s my job, sir.”

“Seth and Marisa have recently entered my employ,” Lady Satine said as Simon shook the redheaded rogue’s hand next. “I had hoped to use my stay in Whispermire to train with them. Adventurers have been too effective at putting down monsters in Valne.”

“I would be happy to supply you with everything you need,” Odette replied. “Although I must warn you that Emperor Louis recently decided on a culling of the local monster population after a certain… incident.”

“An incident?” a stark voice cut through the chatter.

Simon’s jaw tightened in slight surprise. Tiella’s words were so harsh and full of uncharacteristic anger that he almost didn’t recognize her as the speaker.

“My brother’s death was no ‘incident,’” she said as she and her husband invited themselves over to the discussion. “It was murder, plain and simple!”

“Forgive my wording, Lady Flauros,” Odette immediately apologized, though it was probably too late. Almost every partygoer was looking at them. “I did not mean to make it sound like I was diminishing your brother’s tragic demise. I simply sought not to worry our visitors.”

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“She should be worried,” Tiella replied angrily. “My brother and his party were murdered not by claws and teeth, but by blades!”

This is not good at all, Simon thought as Princess Satine squinted at Tiella. “Blades?”

“The autopsy points that way,” Lord Robert Flauros explained with a dark scowl. Unlike his fiery leopard family heraldry, his voice was smooth like snow. “The corpses show wounds in line with axes or spiked maces.”

“Some of the Darkwood’s denizens are undead adventurers who often retain the skills and weapons they used in life, so such creatures might have been responsible,” Odette replied in an attempt to defuse the situation, before skillfully trying to redirect their suspicions. “It could also have been the work of Churchist sympathizers. Our priest was caught exchanging missives with High Confessor Mastemo. I put an end to it, but he might have had secret accomplices.”

“That is what we came here to confirm,” Lord Flauros said sharply. “I, too, suspect Churchist sympathizers to be active in the region. The Darkwood could easily allow a group of templar knights to hide.”

“No common undead or assassin could have slain my brother,” Tiella added with determination. “I will get to the bottom of this, one way or another.”

“That we shall, I promise you.” There was no warmth in Lord Flauros’ voice, only duty. “I didn’t know him for very long, but Lord Leonard was my brother-in-law and a noble knight. The fact he perished under your watch is a stain on your honor, Lord-Mayor Kano.”

Odette scowled and clearly fought back the urge to argue, but kept her mouth shut. It was unwise to argue with a duke’s son, especially in times of war.

The redheaded rogue behind Satine whispered something into her ear. “My retainer tells me she heard adventurers discuss a necromancer in the Darkwood,” she told Tiella. “Could this be the creature you speak of?”

“A necromancer?” Tiella asked with a frown.