Once again, Fadelio had been sent out into the dangers of Arguna, to handle matters no one else could. He was supposed to establish contact with the priests, but that hadn't been his only plans for the day. Without the knowledge of his master, he pursued a second goal, which was the reason he sat before the bald man in his front.

“What a surprise for Prince Corco to send his running dog all the way to me. What gives me the dubious honor?”

True to his reputation, Villca's voice was as aggressive as his look. Fadelio was tempted to react in kind. He hadn't forgotten the night at the Rubria mansion. All the death and pain around himself. He knew that the one to plan the attack was the man in his front. However, for now he had to control himself and do his duties. Since their return to Medala, he had gotten very good at pretending.

“Prince Corco is disconsolate that he cannot meet in person, however, this servant has been instructed to send a message.”

Fadelio handed the sealed wooden roll to the lord who promptly ignored the unimportant servant. Instead, he unsealed the wood and retrieved the paper message from inside. The lord sank into his lavish seat as he concentrated on the words of the first prince. The chair Lord Villca had chosen for himself was carved from expensive rose wood, inlaid with silver and elevated him high above his guest.

Unlike other studies Fadelio had seen, the wall behind the lord wasn't filled with books, scrolls or maps. Instead, it was decorated with two enormous battle axes, their sharp edges sparkling in a dangerous gleam. Fadelio was sure that no man could ever wield weapons of that size, no matter their strength. Right below the axes hung a piece of opulent tapestry, a pure silk carpet, with intricate designs weaved into the cloth. The abstract symbols were easy to decipher and were a regaling of Lord Villca's heroic battle at the siege of Qarasi Castle. The faux-martial walls were almost dripping with vanity, so Fadelio tried his best to suppress a sneer.

After the guest had spent a while mocking the design of the room, the lord's “so” redirected the messenger's view. No sooner had he come back into view did Villca's teeth begin to show through his smirk before he broke into a bellowing laughter. With a full-tooth smile, the lord stood up to look down on the seated messenger in his front.

“Is this Prince Corco's plan? What is this? A surrender?”

Fadelio wouldn't take the bait. Too much hinged on his calm here, so he readied the answer he had already prepared. Still, there was something he had to do first. Fadelio took a piece of paper from his sleeves and unfurled it, before he began to clumsily read. He had to play the part of village idiot, after all.

“The plan outlined within the document is a... contingency, in case the priests fail to announce a nomi... nomination for the emperor position tonight. If an emperor is announced, Prince Corco plans to support the choice without question. However, alternatives must be prepared in case the priests fail to divine a clear answer.”

He looked back up from the paper to be met by Villca's sneer.

“What he means is: There's a chance that your master's ancestor once again decides his oldest heir can't be emperor.”

“Master said, it is best to reach a decision soon.”

This state of limbo couldn't last much longer, Fadelio was aware of that. After Lord Saqartu's death, the alliance of lords around Corco had begun to waver. Every day of indecision would eat at their advantages and reduce the chance for a clean solution. They needed a way out of the political limbo, now. If Corco couldn't gain the throne, which seemed inevitable, the outsiders would only gain more and more ground with every passing day. In that case, it was better for them to just compromise and take what they could get. He was aware of that, and Corco should have been aware of it just as much. However, his friend was being stubborn. Both his perfectionism and his impossibly high moral standards prevented him from doing the right thing. All just so he could start with the perfect coronation he had dreamed of, just so his brothers would be served justice, no matter how harmful that would be to his rule. At this point, Fadelio was determined to take matters into his own hands, to save his friend and save his dream, even if it would cost him their friendship, or his life.

“Still, a triumvirate? Not once has the throne been inherited by three princes at once. Wouldn't that split the land? This goes against any tradition we have ever established.”

“It is as Lord says.” Fadelio lowered his head.

“...So why are you here exactly, talking to me? Doesn't your little alliance almost have a majority in the noble's assembly?”

Fadelio returned a dull look to the question, before he looked back down onto the piece of paper which had since been crumpled in his hands. He searched around the words with his eyes for a few extra seconds, before he read off the writing in a flat voice.

“A breach with tradition will require more than a simple majo.. ma... majority. Unless three out of four lords cast their vote, the rule of three princes cannot be established.”

The three fourths rule was something the assembly had established after the last civil war, to make sure the southern lords wouldn't get punished by the lords in the north. With their numbers, the southern lords had just enough members to block any decisions which would disadvantage them one-sidedly.

“So that's why you're here, you want my people to vote for you?”

“Master believes that his and Lord Villca's goals could coexist.” Fadelio nodded.

“...so how will you get this proposal into the noble's assembly? There's no emperor to suggest any laws, so the only ones who could do so would be members of the ancestral hall. Do you really think you can move them, with Viribus so adamant to destroy you?”

“Master will try to make good with everyone, as far as he can.”

“It seems like he already did. My people tell me that you've been busy this morning. What did the other princes think about this little plan your master has hatched?” Villca asked with narrowing eyes.

“Prince Amautu has been very helpful and plans to support us. Prince Pachacutec has been... unhappy.”

Another bellowing laugh came from his front. Over the last few days, Villca must have really enjoyed himself. Fadelio ignored the grating sound and waited for the man's answer, fully focused on retaining his dull look. This wasn't the time for personal feelings. Not yet.

“No wonder. The peacock still thinks he should rule over everything. Okay, I'll help you, not least to see the old Ichilia's sour face. Let's spit in everyone's soup and see what happens, shall we?”

“Then this servant will return the good news to Prince Corco.”

Fadelio got up from the low chair he had been cursed with by the lord of the manor and bowed deeply.

“Oh, you got anywhere else to go, servant?”

Villca seemed unhappy by Fadelio's eagerness to leave his company, but the messenger didn't care. If he didn't make his exit soon, he couldn't guarantee that he wouldn't smash the pretender's teeth in.

“This servant would be honored, but there are more errands to run. After all, it is as Lord Villca has said: For master's plan to succeed, the ancestors will have to agree.”

Fadelio gave another deep bow and then turned as he got back up, to make sure his face remained hidden. He wouldn't want to let the man see his eyes, darkened by fury. Now was not the time for revenge, but soon. Since his arrival, the list in his head had gotten longer and longer, and the arrogant southern coward was on the very top.

A short walk and an even shorter wait later, Fadelio found himself in another study, this one far more practical in design. The room was large, but only because of all the knowledge it had to store. The shelves neatly organized and filled with books and scrolls, like a small library, were an extension of the owner himself, there to widen his perspective and ensure his own survival within the jungles of the silver palace. Over the years, Prime Minister Chaupic had read most of the words stored in here and become an expert at survival.

One of his hands still held the quill he had been writing with when Fadelio had entered. It had been a present to the prime minister from Corco, another one of his long-term plans. Chaupic's other hand held the message Fadelio had come to deliver. With practiced eyes, of the old politician flew over the message from the prince before they landed on the warrior in his front. From his eternally smiling face, it was impossible to tell what he was thinking.

“...and this plan was thought out by Prince Corco himself?”

Chaupic put down the message and began to clean the ink-stained quill with a cloth to his side.

“Not a plan, it is merely meant as a backstop, in case the divination of the priests proves to be unfruitful.”

This time, Fadelio wouldn't have to play a role. The man in his front was far too clever to be fooled by such tricks. It was a liberating feeling.

“Is that so? However, a bold plan like this will require the support of most lords of the assembly.”

The politician opened a drawer and put away the quill, ready to devote his full attention to the topic at hand.

“The numbers should be no problem. Both Prince Amautu and Lord Villca have already agreed and Lord Saqartu's lingering spirit will take care of the rest.”

Fadelio remembered the courageous warrior. The man who had charged into the line of fire back at the Rubria mansion, just to send message back to Corco. The one who had stood, through his pain and fear of death, to force the lords of the alliance to stay their course and help his nephew one final time.

“In that case, all you required will be the support from the ancestral hall-”

“Elder Viribus. The support of Elder Viribus is all that needs to be considered.”

The politician's eyebrow rose up by an almost imperceptible amount, right before it returned back to its natural position.

“However, the grand ancestor cannot be met by anyone who just wishes to do so. How does Prince Corco plan to convince the elder if he cannot arrange so much as a meeting?”

“That's why I'm here today. Surely, Minister Chaupic would find it easy to relay the message to the grand ancestor.”

“...why would Prince Corco make this request of an old servant like myself? This old man does not hold official position any longer and is, to his great shame, incapable of providing assistance.”

The man's face was still a waxen mask, but the short pause before his answer was all Fadelio needed to understand that Corco had, once again, been right in his assessment.

“You shouldn't forget that Prince Corco is no fool. Master has read up on the history books. He is well aware that it was Great Ancestor Viribus who once put a young, gifted official to the side of Elder Caelestis, to support him in his rule.”

...and also to control him and strip him of his power once the time was right. Fadelio didn't say the final words out loud, but the smart politician could read between the lines. Fadelio wanted Chaupic to hear Corco's theory. How from the very start, the politician had been an agent of Viribus, the man who had gifted Chaupic his position to preserve his rule and control Caelestis from behind the throne. Even now, the old politician kept switching sides to make sure all forces were balanced in strength and easy to control.

For the first time since he had entered the room, Fadelio could see the old man's face truly change. The mask fell and revealed an appearance of genuine sadness. Though of course, it was always impossible to tell with the man.

“This servant is disconsolate that Prince Corco would think so lowly of me. This official has only ever been a servant of Medala, a servant of House Pluritac.”

“So then you shouldn't have a problem in serving the eldest heir of the main line. My master is not interested in further games and neither am I. The deal you find described in the letter is exactly what the ancestor should want: A legitimate way to undermine and destroy the traditions of Medala. At the very least you should bring it up to him, right? Any further discussions can wait until then, until you finally run out of options and have to show enough honesty to talk to us on behalf of your master.”

Of course, Fadelio didn't believe a word he had just said. While Corco himself was still suspicious of the prime minister, Fadelio was much more inclined to believe in the politician's sincerity. Far too many of his actions would have served to upset the ancestor, like his role in Corco's attempted assassination. Doing so served no advantage for Chaupic and he was far too shrewd a man for accidents. However, Fadelio needed the prime minister to be desperate for validation, so he chose to provoke. After just a moment of thought, the old politician did exactly as Fadelio had wanted.

“It is true indeed. I have worked under the instructions of Lord Viribus for much of the past year. However, all of it has been done in the belief that the ancestor would want the best for the same Pluritac line I have been devoted to all my life. I never married and never had children. This is the only family I have. Seeing it torn apart by this petty squabble has been unbearable. If only I could make Prince Corco understand. There is no taboo I would not break to guarantee the success of the line, for it is my life's work.”

Fadelio felt a grin creep onto his face. Those were the words he had wanted to hear.

“You wish to prove yourself, Chaupic di Pluritac? There is a way, but it goes far beyond bringing a letter to Viribus. However, it will require true dedication. A sacrifice greater than what most would pay.”

With a clink, a green glass vial landed on the table between the two men.