Chapter 111 – The Runaway Princess (1)

Justicar Vigo waded through the documents. Some of the documents were lit by the sun. The others were covered in shadow. It was an annoyance to Vigo but he made what he can read. He was carefully inking the documents when the door swung open, making him pain the document in ink. Veins popped on him. He looked at the person who was loud enough to swing the door open.

“Miss Dolce, can you please knock beforehand?” Vigo knotted his jaws. He looked at Dolce with obvious annoyance. Dolce grinned at that, however. She said, “Well Pardon me, I just came here with an important information.” a smile appeared on her face.

“Important?” Vigo turned serious. “Speak, Dolce of Alva, what did you gather?”

“The runaway princess of the Maltius La Fende, I’ve found her.”

“What?” Vigo felt like a coin was dropped. He stood up slamming the table. The documents flew up the air which made Dolce looked at it amusedly. “Are you sure?”

“Oh my, do you really think that I would come into this city just to amuse Justicar? Do you really not find it hard that I would stay in the same city that my degenerate of an uncle breathes the air?”

Vigo shook his head. “No. And I doubt you would come here just to lie. So where is the belladonna of the Maltius La Fende?”

“Hah!” She waved her trigger finger at Vigo’s face. She leaned on the table, showing a playful grin, her blonde hair prattling on her shoulder. “Do you think that I’d just tell you? Oh and spare me that inquisitive face of yours Justicar. You know me from our dealings. I was the one that led you to this place. But I really doubt that the Thorn Cross legion would have been near the borders of the Freelands conveniently as this City was being attacked.”

“I do not know what you are implying,” Vigo said calmly. He was trying to put his best face. But it didn’t matter since Dolce could see through that bit of gap. “Spare me your crap Vigo, its either you give me what I want or not. You can’t threaten me nor can you invoke the name of my father here.”

Vigo tightened his jaw, nodding. “Very well, tell me what you want, Dolce. In whatever power, I can. I’ll give it you and surely the Pontiff will be delighted by this.”

Dolce’s face turned from a frown into a huge smile. She sat on the chair and crossed her legs, leaning her upper body back. “First of all, I want Templars to watch my fiefs. Second, I want administrative officers who can manage my fiefs, they will earn their coffers, I am not that unreasonable, and all I want from them is to take care of my fattened line of fiefs. Third, I want those machine guns, those crank-operated ones to be mounted on my ship.”

“Those guns are confidential,” Vigo said gravely. “I am afraid that I cannot give it you.”

Dolce touched her cheek dramatically. “And I am afraid that I can’t give you information. Oh, come on, Justicar. I am giving you the chance to make amends to the Maltius La Fende. All I want from you are people to watch my fiefs, officers who can manage them, and lastly a weapon that I can protect my ship better. You might also add fame in that too so my father won’t try to have my chastity healed by some dubious methods too.”

Vigo’s face crumpled. He tapped his forehead. “Is this what you truly want Dolce of Alva? What are you going to do with a machine-gun anyway?”

“Oh nothing,” she smiled cheekily. “I just want to shoot dire monsters down. You see, there are many flying monsters and you should understand how terrible it is dealing with them.”

“Is that what you really need them for?” Vigo asked dubiously.

“Of course,” The smile on Dolce stayed. “It’s not like I plan to gun down my hated enemies and force various fiefs to offer tribute to me.”

Vigo thought to himself that if it was another person speaking. He would have laughed at that as a joke. But this was the Dolce of Alva, a woman who had a chaotic nature. She was unpredictable and most of her decisions are made of whims.

“I hope that you don’t point them at civilians.”

“You wound me, Vigo,” she reclined back while still having that smug look on her face. Vigo wanted to get away from her but he needed to know the information that she gathered.

“Fine, I shall accept your terms,” Vigo said.

“Ah, raised your right hand and swear by the light,” she pointed out. Vigo could only helplessly sigh as he takes an oath with his right hand and hand over a badge of favor to Dolce. “Now, tell me what you know.”

“I found the Green Brooch of Maltius La Fende. It was worn by a plain-looking girl who carried a basket in the town of Edawick. For the belladonna, she was rather plain, but there was no mistake that was an emerald. It was not a fake and I can tell by the runic writings engraved on the golden metal that held it together that it was the real deal.”

“The plain girl you see was probably in disguise,” Vigo explained. “The Green of Brooch of the Maltius La Fende has been rumored to conjure illusions and protect its user. It might explain why the girl you saw was plain and simple.”

“Oh really” Dolce folded her arms. She looked serious suddenly. “I do not want to dip my head into the Midland’s politics. But would an alliance with Maltius La Fende really benefit the Holy Midland?”

“Yes,” Vigo nodded. “The Holy Midland is surrounded in two fronts. Having the Maltius La Fende helped us would be beneficial. We can conquer the Bali and the Cagan natives and have them finally surrender. That is if we can defeat the Werelion Tribe and their Werewolf Vanguard.”

Dolce nodded. “Complicated, no wonder I hate mingling about politics. Anyway,” she smiled, “that’s all I have. I hope that you do well with your promise, Vigo.”

“We do not break our oaths. You should know that, Dolce.”

“I know, send me a bird or a messenger. I’ll be in that village to drink wine. You know that place, do you?

“You got it.”

Dolce strutted out of the room. She gave this teasing smile before slamming the door close. Vigo held his head and gave a big sigh. He found it troublesome dealing with Dolce of Alva. But what she gave was something important. It was something that could turn the tides of war back at his home.