Electra Rose
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swordpoint diplomacy 37
🕑 Added 2023-10-15 19:00:01 +0000 UTCCHAPTER 37
Vivian watched the Queen Presumptive from beneath her lashes as the other woman concentrated on her calligraphy. Vivian kept her hands neatly in her lap. Perfect in discipline and patience, she did not move an unnecessary muscle as she waited for the royal orders that would get her out of camp and her decoys into different keeps on military lockdown for the war.
“May I enter?” came from the entrance of the tent.
She didn’t turn to look. Vivan focused on the Queen Presumptive’s expression as General Celestin’s voice rang out.
The royal was nervous. She hid it well, but it was there in the contraction of a long muscle on her neck, in the stiff way she put her quill down.
‘And why is that?’
“Allow me,” Vivian murmured. Whatever it was did not matter overmuch. It was clear that the other woman would prefer to avoid the General. That meant that she could make herself useful. She waited for a nod before she stood and sashayed to the entrance. Rather than invite him in, she stepped into the sunlight and cast her gaze on him. “General,” she said.
He was surprised to see her there. “Miss Treveylan,” he greeted, voice as gravelly as ever. “I did not expect to see you here.”
“Yes,” she said, and did not clarify. “The princess is occupied at the moment. Is it possible for me to convey your sentiments?” She did not glance down at the rolls of parchment he was holding.
“I…” The general seemed displeased. He glanced into the tent. But he conceded gracefully. “Thank you. If you would give these to Her Highness? She had requested some correspondence.”
Vivian accepted the bundle and gave a curtsy. “Thank you, I shall. Have a good day.”
He took a step backwards, gave a half bow, and turned on his heel to leave. She stayed for a moment, pretending not to notice the attention of the guards posted on either side of the entrance.
‘Are they trusted?’ Vivian wondered. She hoped not. They almost certainly were paid for by someone. She re-entered the tent without looking directly at the soldiers and waited until she had the Queen Presumptive’s attention before curtsying as best as she could with full hands. “Correspondence, from General Celestin.”
Rose looked over them with those clever eyes of hers for a quick moment, clearly reading some story from the colors of the bands and the braided cords that held them shut. Her lips twitched upwards. “Set them here, please,” she said.
Vivian put them down where indicated and then re-took her seat. She smoothed her skirts expertly with her hands so that they fell as they ought. Then she put her hands back in the exact same resting position as they’d been in before the interruption.
This was her first time to be in such extended proximity to Rose. When the other woman was once again absorbed in her task, Vivian went back to her subtle study.
Her Father said that Rose lacked the charisma her siblings had in spades. Vivian rather thought the magnetism was different. Perhaps it was something that the more magically mundane simply did not sense.
Whatever it was, Vivian was confident in her choice. If the royal family was going to break into a succession crisis, Rose would be the victor. The best choice was to be on her side before any conflict developed. Rose had been born with the favor of the gods and her father. She was simply destined for it.
“Six copies, correct?” Rose confirmed quietly.
Vivian ran through her mental list of the places that she would need to send allies in order to disguise what they were doing. “Six,” she agreed calmly.
Silence fell again. It was broken sharply by the voice of the page, calling for entry.
The boy entered, face flushed pink. He seemed unpleasantly surprised to see Vivian. She regarded him back with a nod and a slight smile.
“Is there something?” Rose prompted.
“Ah…” He tore his gaze away from Vivian. He was nervous.
‘The Queen has been keeping secrets,’ Vivian mused. She didn’t hide the amused curve of her lips. The boy didn’t dare dismiss her, and Rose didn’t see his nerves. Vivian raised an eyebrow to prompt him.
He swallowed visibly. “The two messengers that you sent this morn have returned,” the page said. Avoie Harrod, Vivian remembered. He looked quite a bit like his famous Father, all limbs and narrow face.
Rose looked up at that. “With the expected news?” She was too disciplined to glance at Vivian. But it was too late to convince her that nothing was going on beneath the surface. Vivian smiled benevolently, trying to convey that she could be trusted. It was true, she would not betray the Queen’s secrets. It would work against her own best interests.
The emotions she was projecting must have landed. The Queen fixed her clear, catlike eyes on Vivian for a piercing moment of assessment and then she relaxed. “Are they here to report?” At the boy’s nod, she swept a hand at him. “Bring them in.”
The look he gave to Vivian was outright panicked. She fought the urge to laugh at the poor boy.
Whatever his fears, he obeyed without further comment. So he wasn’t confident to disagree with Rose at all, then. Vivian took that information into her mental hoard.
He was mundane. He had to be. Pity, his mother’s family had a storied history. But it was clear that the Queen had an unsettling effect on those citizens who lacked gifts.
Two men entered the tent. The first one immediately fixed his eyes on Vivian. He gave her a salute that the other one copied a moment too late.
The page’s older half brother. Vivian watched him, interested in his relationship with the Queen. She had gravitated to him almost immediately.
‘He’s his mother’s son,’ Vivian decided. ‘Caution and courtesies covering a biting wit.’
He seemed mild as anything, but she felt that he was a predator from his aura. But she had no need to fear the Queen’s sword. She let her gaze break away from the man’s grey eyes and to the other messenger.
Oh. She was too disciplined to let her facial expression change, but he was striking next to Kian of Hartsbluff.
They were of similar ages. Where Kian was especially tall and somewhat lean, this man was broad. But they had the same cool complexion. This man’s eyes were a dark slate grey, exactly as Kian’s would have been without the dilution of his mother’s pale eyes.
Most of his face was covered with a helm. But the eyes were telling enough.
“I have conveyed your request to the Duke,” Kian said, after a greeting. Rose watched him impassively, head cocked a little to the side to show her focus. “He recommends that I substitute for him on this errand.”
There was a moment before comprehension washed over the Queen’s face. “I see.” She did not seem pleased. She leaned back slightly before she said, “His leg.”
Kian inclined his head.
“Acceptable,” Rose said, unhappily. She gritted her jaw. “Have a seat. I will make a letter of passage.”
Both men took seats. Only now did Vivian catch the stranger stealing a look at her. She met his gaze head on. On a hunch, she inclined her neck in the best deference she could give foreign nobility while seated.
He made the appropriate gesture on reflex. Then he went quite stiff.
“No worries,” Rose said without looking up. “This is Vivian Treveylan, Prince Marcel. She would certainly know your face, but she is a friend.”
Vivian took the gesture of trust for what it was- the Queen accepting her bid to join her inner circle. The victory was sweet. “Your Highness,” she murmured, now that it was in the open.
The little page glanced between the adults, obviously baffled.
“It might be for the best if you travel together,” Rose said, as if it had just now occurred to her. She had probably thought of it before she decided to share their names. “Miss Treveylan is not a fighter, and the roads can be dangerous.”
Vivian kept her thoughts on that off of her face. She accepted the suggestion before anyone else could move to reject it.
