A strange garden existed within the palace. Not a hint of natural sunlight seeped in. Rune powered lamps acting as its only light source. They had even bothered to bring in several bird species that had originated from all over the country. Though they hadn’t been tamed well, choosing to stay by the waterfall instead of where any human could linger. The room was large enough for a speckling of trees, and the controlled temperatures allowed for fruit to be available at all times of the year.

Martyr was sprawled out in the grass with Veximarl leaning against her. Rite was nearby. She kept her eyes on the birds but lacked the curiosity to hunt them. The playfulness within her had vanished when Alex died. Though Chickadee still had some of the blood iron from their siblings in storage, Veximarl couldn’t bear to replace her brother.

Maybe that’s why he gave Cacophony away to Chickadee. He didn’t want a lapse of judgment resulting in the death of another of his summons. Veximarl stretched his hand above him. What was the point in focusing his efforts on this ability? Its original purpose was to allow him to hide his abilities through his summons… All it did was expose him to the world.

Rite’s left ear twitched. “It’s safe to approach,” called out Veximarl. “You aren’t disturbing me.”

Viokern peeked out from around a tree. His eyes were locked onto Martyr. Veximarl looked like a mythical beast tamer. Some sort of villain out of a fantasy novel… He couldn’t understand how Veximarl could just idle about with monsters while acting like nothing was wrong.

“I, uhm,” muttered Viokern as he hesitantly approached. “I didn’t see you at the palace’s church services this morning.”

“They said that they needed time to prepare before I make a public appearance.” Veximarl had no idea what that meant, but he did get a lot of free time as a result.

“Ah,” replied Viokern knowingly. Preparations were always a bother. “Anything I can do to help?”

Veximarl shook his head. “I wouldn’t know. I doubt they would let me travel about as I please until after necromancy is legalized.” He sat up and leaned forward on a knee. “People will need time to adjust to what I am.”

Viokern sat on the grass. He was still a little ways off from Veximarl, but he was attempting to make himself seem comfortable with that whole… Massive murder cat that was sitting next to Veximarl.

“It doesn’t bother me.” It did, a little. He couldn’t hide the worry on his face. Regardless of his fears, he had to press on. “Father Laurent believes that you’ll be a good advisor for me once I become the crown prince. His recommendation is enough for me to place my trust in you.”

Veximarl frowned. Viokern’s words and actions were complete opposites. He was speaking confidently while shaking with fear. “Why do you wish to be king?”

“I suppose it’s complicated?” Viokern asked.

Veximarl leaned into Martyr. She responded by letting out a low chuffing noise and flicking her tail back and forth. “I have time to listen.”

“Then I suppose it’s-” Viokern froze as Rite began to circle about him. He let out a whimper as her muzzle nudged past his hair so she could sniff at his ear. “I-I suppose it’s…”

“Rite.” Veximarl gestured for the fox to come closer. She obediently trotted over and flopped against his side. Her head rested against his lap and she used her paws to move Veximarl’s hand to her chin. “Apologies. That’s her way of doing introductions.” He began to scratch at her chin and cheek. “Please continue.”

“It all started with Uncle Wulfert,” replied Viokern. “Mother acts like he’s some sort of boogeyman. She would tell me stories about how anyone who opposes him ends up disappearing. He even had Uncle Cornelius killed.” Viokern drew his knees towards his chest. “When I was little, I didn’t believe her. I didn’t realize how bad it was until after Father Laurent told me what he had been up to.

He used and manipulated people. People would follow him without question because they honestly thought he had Lustro’s best interests in mind. It didn’t matter how many people suffered or died as long as it was all for the greater good. I thought that maybe history can’t repeat itself, maybe it’ll be fine now that he was dead... But Duxton is a murderer. He’s going to be worse than Uncle Wulfric ever was.”

A manipulator. A liar. A murderer. Those were certainly words that could be used to describe Duxton. “Would you be willing to kill him for the crown?”

“Kill who? Duxton?” Viokern’s face was a wash of confusion.

“Do you believe that Duxton would attempt to assassinate you if he had the opportunity?” Veximarl continued to scratch Rite’s cheek as he spoke. “Much like how Prince Wulfric killed his brother and forced his sister out of the palace?”

“... No,” muttered Viokern with a shake of his head. “He’s a terrible person but I don’t believe he would do that.”

Veximarl continued his line of questioning. “Would you choose to defend yourself if an assassin came after you?”

Viokern was second-guessing himself. His eyes flitted about as he drew his legs closer to his chest. He was basically curled up in a ball at this point. “Of course, I would, but Duxton wouldn’t send an assassin after me.”

“You’re right. He wouldn’t.” Veximarl scrunched up Rite’s cheeks. “He uses people as pawns and toys, but I have rarely seen him place others in the way of danger. Duxton would choose to kill you himself and deal with the consequences personally. Will you be able to protect yourself if he chooses to kill you with his own hands?”

“... I doubt I would win,” mumbled Viokern. “I’d rather just exile him from Fogbloom forever. He’s always so grumpy and complains about how he hates being here or doing work. He’ll likely be happier not being king.”

“Duxton is more than willing to fight to the death when it comes to protecting his inheritance,” replied Veximarl. “Yet his abilities are not his strongest asset. The same could be said about Prince Wulfert. It was and is their ability to draw in obedient allies. Ones who can fight not physically but politically. You have your own allies, Viokern. I am to be counted among them. Do not fear ordering me to handle the issues you are not strong enough to deal with.”

“Are you telling me to order you to kill Duxton?!” Viokern was so shocked that he had squeaked out the question.

Veximarl held a finger to his lips. “I’m not entirely against the idea, but that is not what you desire. I am your servant, Viokern. It is my duty to anticipate your wants and needs with extreme accuracy and execute your will without you having to ask. Anyone who aims to be a king’s hand should be able to accomplish such.”

He gently rested his fingers against his spear. A thick metal bracelet had been tightly secured near the center handgrips. Veximarl had tied it in place with woven leather cording. It was his good fortune that he actually paid attention to Chickadee during those introductory blacksmithing lessons and that the little mage had taught him a great deal about maintaining his own weapon.

Purple strands of light appeared around the bracelet. They pulsed with life as they coiled out and twisted together into the form of a woman. First the veins, which curled about bones, followed by flesh and skin, and lastly the hair. She let out a small groan as she stretched out her arms above her heads. Her skin had a faint ethereal glow about it, but at a glance, she seemed like a normal human.

“I thought you said we were only testing to see if I worked. What is it that you want now?” Alessia Fogbloom cooed as she stretched out her back. She then noticed the wide-eyed Viokern and turned to face him properly. “Ah, pardon my rudeness, cousin, who is this?”

Viokern averted his gaze. She was as nude as the animals that Veximarl had summoned. That is to say, completely and utterly.

“Miss Alessia, I brought a cloak here for a reason.”

Veximarl stood up and immediately wobbled back and forth. It was like this when he had first summoned Martyr, yet slightly worse because it was the second time he had conjured Alessia today. As he feared, human forms were quite draining. His vision blurred and he had trouble seeing where he had set down the cloak.

“Excuse me, child,” said Alessia as she sat on her heels in front of Viokern. “What is your name?”

“V-Viokern Aconite, Miss,” stuttered the horrified teen.

Veximarl spotted a bit of black nestled underneath Martyr’s head. “Ah, there it is.” He proceeded to grab it, only to have Martyr place her paw on it and growl. “Yes, I understand that it’s comfortable and smells like me, but it's imperative that I use it now.” Martyr growled louder.

“And what relation are you to Thomas Aconite?” Asked Alessia. She reached out to brush the hair away from Viokern’s face, which made him flinch.

“King T-Thomas Aconite?”

The smile dropped from Alessia’s face. “... Yes,” she replied in an annoyed manner. “That very same Thomas.” She rolled her eyes. He kills her and gains a crown. The world simply wasn’t fair.

Viokern glanced over to Veximarl, who was now engaging in a tug of war with both Martyr and Rite. “... He’s my great-grandfather?”

Alessia remained disappointed. “You don’t look much like him at all. I suppose the face really does melt away after a few generations… Shame. I would’ve loved the chance to punch his nose again.” She stood up and walked over to where Veximarl was standing. “Drop it.” Martyr and Rite dropped the cloak in unison, sending Veximarl staggering backward.

Veximarl was clearly shaken and embarrassed. “Apologies, Viokern, I had hoped for this moment to be a big revelation.” He put a hand to his temple. “Miss Alessia, I had wished to go over what we discussed earlier. This time with Viokern.”

“You mean that plan involving that other great-grandson?” Alessia asked with a grin.

“That is indeed it,” replied Veximarl with dismay.

Alessia placed her hand against Veximarl’s shoulder. “Worry not, cousin. We still have hope to recover.” She dramatically placed the cloak around her shoulders and clipped it on with one hand. “Lord Viokern, Prince Duxton will no longer pose a threat to you.” She took a knee in front of the teen and obediently dipped her head. “We will be certain to teach him what his place in this world is.”

Viokern stared at the kneeling woman. She had the grace and poise of a high ranking member of the guard. He straightened his posture and stood proudly. “I will accept your service with graciousness. Thank you for placing your faith in me.”

While Viokern’s number of allies was growing, Duxton was at risk of losing them. Shaw’s gait carried purpose as he walked down the halls of his fort. Duxton had not only betrayed his trust but had purposely sabotaged Shaw’s happiness. Investigating members of the military, withholding information about Rosethorn’s experiments, keeping Sybil’s presence in Fogbloom a secret. He had known about none of this.

Then there was the matter of Gwyn. Did Duxton force her to lie to him? Is that the reason why they broke up? Shaw didn’t particularly care what the reason was, but if Duxton was involved… Oh, he didn’t know what he would do, but he was still particularly perturbed by that little incident.

He opened the door to Duxton’s room with speed and force. “We must speak.”

“By all means,” replied Duxton. “I have all the time in the world to waste.”

“It isn’t a waste of your time to speak to me,” spat back Shaw.

Duxton frowned. He frowned at Shaw with all the strength his face muscles could muster. “Udell.” He waved Udell off. “I must speak with him alone.”

“Of course, sire.” Udell rose out of his seat.

Shaw stepped out of the way so that both Udell and Odd could pass. “You have sought to trick me,” he growled as he shut and locked the door behind them.

“You are far too involved,” replied Duxton. He first waited for Shaw to sit, then sighed when the paladin remained standing. “Are you to have me believe that you would side with me over your own father?”

“My task, given to me on the day I was born, was to serve the royal family. Your family. I understand that you’ve had your share of pain and betrayal, but my father is the only reason why you are alive! He is the last in this world who would turn his back against you!”

Duxton shrugged. “See? And this is the reason why I didn’t tell you that I was investigating anyone. You would’ve insisted on using your father’s connections and it would’ve unraveled all of the carefully placed stealth within my plans.” His tone turned serious. “I can’t have the palace realizing what I’m doing until it’s too late to stop me.”

Shaw frowned back at him. “And Sybil?”

“Are you to have me believe that you wouldn’t be checking in on her every other day to make sure she doesn’t need anything?” Duxton pouted. “Don’t lie and say that you wouldn’t, Shaw. You would’ve doted on her far too often and gotten her caught. I know for a fact that you’d be sending her baked goods on a weekly basis.”

Shaw stood his ground. “My role is to serve you,” he stressed. “I do what is best for you and this country. I cannot fulfill my duties as long as you withhold anything from me. This ends now. This is your only opportunity to come clean with me.”

Duxton crossed his legs and folded his hands in his lap. “Deal.” He straightened up in his seat. “Let’s start this arrangement by stating that Madam Pennyrile was responsible for sending Paladin Buttonweed to Braytons. This was done under Duchess Elbellziara’s orders. Udell and I are working on exposing Madam Pennyrile but we need to see how much of a mess Aunt El dug herself into before we do anything to help or harm her.”

“... How may I assist?”

“Udell will be making his move within the next few days,” said Duxton with a twirl of his finger.

Shaw narrowed his eyes. “You would have me work under Udell to complete this operation?”

“I would,” replied Duxton.

He was being tested by Duxton. Him, of all people. Shaw felt a wave of cold anger swell within him, as though his heart were freezing over. “I understand.”

Outside, Udell withdrew a paper letter from his pocket. It had been delivered the night before. He unfolded it and read it over one last time. “I need to leave for a few hours,” he said to Odd. “Stay at the fort. Make certain that the prince does not leave.”

“Yes, sir,” said Odd as he bowed.

Udell fetched a horse and headed out of the fort. If anyone asked any questions, he could simply say that he was looking into something for the prince. Even Duxton wouldn’t question him at this point.

He steered the horse into a lesser-traveled part of the city and dismounted in front of a restaurant. It was a hole in the wall establishment meant for someone in need of a quick meal. Udell looked around for a moment before stepping inside. The smell of meat pie and parsley sauce is what greeted him first, followed by the heat coming from the back kitchen.

Amalfrieda was waiting for him. She was almost finished with her meat pie and jellied eel. At the sight of Udell coming in, she quickly gobbled up her plate and swallowed it down with a swig of beer. This was followed by a coughing fit due to the beer going down the wrong pipe.

“Is it safe to talk here?” Udell remained standing.

Amalfrieda held up a hand until she finished coughing. “I used to eat here all the time as a student.” She gestured to the kitchen, where a large, old man was stirring a pot of… Something. “He’s basically deaf. You have to scream to get his attention.”

Udell glanced at the man for a moment before sliding onto the bench. He didn’t say anything, merely stared judgmentally.

“What?” Amalfrieda took another sip of beer. Her throat was still sore.

“You’ve been taking actions that oppose the will of our lord,” replied Udell.

Amalfrieda snickered. “Why should I care? That guy couldn’t even protect Rachel from getting drafted into the war. We’ve all had to scramble to avoid being torn apart by those beasts. The tainted and the fools who call themselves military.” She eyed him for a moment. “Everyone except you and Shaw, that is. Nice to see that some of us were deemed good enough to earn his favor.”

“I was also drafted,” replied Udell.

“Then you mean to say that he’s also failed you?” Asked Amalfrieda sarcastically. “He’s working you to the bone before sending you off to die.” She shook her head. “I would say that I’m surprised, but I’m clearly not.”

“He gave me the opportunity to avoid the draft, but I volunteered to serve.” Udell glared at her. As she shook her head again, this time with three times the disappointment. “I had arranged for us to be in the same squad. I wasn’t going to let you serve alone Frieda. We were going to be there to protect each other.”

She glared back at him, her gaze becoming more intense by the moment. “... You don’t have to worry about me now,” she whispered. “You should’ve worried more about protecting yourself.”

Udell checked the man in the kitchen again. He hadn’t even noticed Udell or offered to take his order. What Amalfrieda said about him being deaf was likely true. “Why have they sent you to me?” This wasn’t a friendly meeting. Amalfrieda would’ve simply shown up at the fort or the mansion if she had wanted to say hi.

“They want to know who Duxton has been talking to and why,” replied Amalfrieda. Always work with Udell. He was never any fun.

He gave a subtle shake of his head. “I will not relinquish that information to you.”

“They said that if you didn’t, my next stop was going to be your little mistake of a hometown.” Amalfrieda pushed her plate aside so that she could lean forward on her elbows. “You never told me that your family got rich because the baron was paying your mother off.”

“My family is well off because he is in charge of security for the area.” His father oversaw the safety of the roads and several towns within that area. He was considered to be one of the most respected men in the area. “Baron Aster is a longstanding family friend.”

Amalfrieda pursed her lips. “Baron Aster got drunk one night and forced himself on your mother. When you showed up in her stomach, she threatened to destroy him. So he did what any respectable baron would do and forced his best friend to take the blame and marry her.” She grinned. “He’s been shaking out his pockets for years in order to keep them silent. Even arranged that marriage of yours so that he can keep you under control.”

Once again, Udell kept silent.

“You can check to see if it's true yourself. They didn’t want you to know because they worried you might steal the baron’s title and lands from your little brothers and sisters.” Amalfrieda pursed her lips again. “Though maybe it’s best of I go without you? Since your so busy here with Duxton’s business. I’ll see to it that everyone gets properly punished for lying to you.”

Udell clutched a hand into a fist. “Is this truly the path you wish to go down?”

“I’m loyal to the hand that feeds me,” replied Amalfrieda. “You’re the one who is wasting his time by being starved by a poor master.”

So be it. Udell took a breath to calm himself. “Our lord is investigating Madam Pennyrile for the illegal harvesting and distribution of human blood iron. He continues to be obsessed with the death of Sena Arbutus and will stop at nothing to avenge her death.”

Amalfrieda couldn’t be more annoyed by the news. “Damn. I was hoping it would be something that would force me to fight him.” She frowned. “But I’m not fond of that bitch either… Is there a way for me to get a slice of this meat pie?”

“The arrangements have already been made. Madam Pennyrile will be attending a banquet at the palace on the eve of Eatha’s Feast Day. I will be assisting several military members as they raid the Daughters of Iath temple and look for evidence of wrongdoing.”

“And what will you be doing after that?” Amalfrieda stuck out her foot underneath the table and poked Udell’s shin.

“I will be fulfilling my duties as a knight of Lustro and work towards putting an end to this war.” Udell stood up. “On the frontlines. Where you should’ve sought to go.” He reached into his pocket and pulled out a bit of cash, which he then placed on the table. “For your meal.”

Amalfrieda watched him turn around and leave. She eyed the cash for the moment before picking it up. “Oi! Harold! Check!” She raised her voice even further. “Get me the check!!!”

She should’ve been left feeling empty by this exchange. Udell was her closest friend. Amalfrieda had just burned that bridge to ashes and watched it all flow down the river... Yet she felt relieved. There was nothing holding her back now.

Amalfrieda was free.

The days continued to tick by until the eve before Eatha’s feast day. Everyone’s plans were finally being set in motion. Shaw and Udell rode off to Grand Temple while Duxton made arrangements to watch over Pennyrile’s movements at the banquet. Her arrest this evening was all but assured.

Alton placed a few rocks on the table and pinned a crudely drawn map of the palace into place. “The banquet will be held in this room while the dance hall is located here.” He pointed at two spots. “Zaniyah and I will wait for the banquet to start before breaking off to the core’s entrance, over here. Zaniyah, have you spoken to Kogin about passing the sword off to him? He’s okay with the plan?”

“I got it handled!” Zaniyah flashed him a thumbs up.

“Good.” Alton was relieved. They had already made plans to help with the stage and attend an after-party with the actors. No one would think twice about them moving about backstage. “Chi and Highland, I’ll contact you by letter a few minutes before we leave the palace. Wait outside and we’ll pass the sword off to you.” Cacophony could help fly it back to the fort.

“Okay!” Said Chickadee. Vincent gave Alton a firm nod.

The plan was set. Nicolas had helped Alton get clearance to enter the palace. King Howell had set up a formal meeting with him tomorrow, so today was just a casual visit. Alton should be free to move around as he wished. Stealing the sword shouldn’t be a problem.

The members of the Riposte Theater were also making their last-minute checks on both the stage and their props. Sybil knelt next to one of the platformed ramps. A splinter had gotten caught in her skirt and she was trying to carefully work it free. Why she was forced to wear a skirt while building a set was beyond her comprehension, but that was simply the way Fogbloom women were supposed to be dressed.

“Look out!”

One of the beams holding up a wall set gave way and fell sideways, leading for the whole wall to fall towards Sybil’s platform. She instinctively shifted into mist right as the wall cracked against the platform. The commotion had everyone crying out with panic.

“Margret!” Kogin ran over first. The wall had cracked in half when it hit the edge of the ramp, creating a deathly looking jagged edge. “Has anyone seen Margret?! She was just over here!” Likely either splatted to bits or cut in half.

“... I’m fine,” said Sybil. She had used the distraction to appear behind everyone. “Are you okay?” She then let out a loud gasp. “You’ve torn your pants!”

“It’s fine,” shrugged off Kogin. They had torn against part of the broken set when he had run over. “It’s not a part of my costume anyways.”

Sybil put on a fake smile. She then looked around. Everyone seemed more focused on the accident instead of her appearing out of nowhere. That’s good. No one seemed to notice her little magic trick. Even if they did, it wasn’t like she was planning on hanging out with these people after today. In fact, she was going to leave Fogbloom completely. If she ended up causing a huge mess, that’s Duxton’s problem to clean up.

It’ll be difficult to slip away after the performances, but she estimated that she had about a half-hour to locate Laurent and murder him. Nearly sixty years had passed since the palace had been alarmed against Aeneas. No one was going to catch her. Everything was going to go exactly as she had planned it.

“... What’s a Bell Bell?”

Protea looked up at the series of bells that were hung up in the palace guardroom. “What do you mean?” He looked back down at Amalfrieda.

She pointed up at a dusty bell that was off in the corner. It was ringing faintly. The label was faint from age and it was quite obvious that no one paid attention to it. “This bell. It’s just labeled ‘bell.’ It’s a Bell Bell.”

Protea squinted up at it. He didn’t actually know. Since it was in such disrepair, it meant that no one was actually expecting it to go off anytime soon. “... Wait here. I’ll go ask Neryx.”

Boring. Amalfrieda had hoped that it was some sort of secret that would lead to something exciting happening. She glared at the bell until it slowly fell back silent. “Bell… Bell…” Bellia Bell? Was that it? A cruel grin shined upon her lips. “Oh, I see now, Duxton… So that’s what you’re up to.”