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TRAS Chapter 117: Symbolism
🕑 Added 2025-06-05 14:39:12 +0000 UTCWhile Kylian negotiated with the imperial family, and Ailn aided Bea in her desperate effort to save her father, a lone knight commander was riding deep into the Singing Mountainsâhis pace brisk, his visage grim.
Heâd departed from Varant just three days prior, traveling as swiftly as his horseâs endurance would allow. Forcing himself to rest each night had taken all of his self-controlâand even then, it had hardly been restorative.
He had not informed the knights of his departure. Not even Sir Fontaine, who he trusted above all else as the most loyal of all the eum-Creidâs knightly vassals. Nor had he told his family where he was going.
For all intents and purposes, heâd forsaken his duties. While his comrades protected the northern wall, and his younger sister the Saintess vanquished shadows⌠Sigurd eum-Creid pressed onward through wind and crag, echo stone clenched within his fist, fully aware something sinister lay in wait.
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Camille was sprinting through Calum.
The knight felt she truly might kill him, fealty be damned. There was a limit. There was a point where idiocy bordered on tyranny.
âOw! Watch where youâre going!â
âTch. One of those coarse knights from VarantâŚâ
As she pressed through the crowds, faintly aware she was only adding to Varantâs poor reputation, Camille added another grievance to her growing list against Ailn. He was the one whoâd forced her hand after all. Her desperation was his fault.
Indeed, she never would have had to stiffly trudge over to the third princeâs retainers, tail between her legs, pleading for the location of her own liege. If her lord didnât play the truant, then sheâd have never even entertained the thought of playing his keeper.
She came upon Calumâs oldest library, hoping she had not yet missed them. It was a modest structure, but a pretty one, built with travertine long before marble had dominated the cityâs landscape.
The once creamy white facade had faded to a color closer to that of sand. And each time Camille laid eyes on the library, she couldnât shake the feeling that the porous surface had gathered a few more divots.
She was here. But suddenly she felt exhausted. Running all this way in armor had been no small feat. Camille leaned against the buildingâs weathered exterior, steadying herself as she caught her breath, ignoring the curious stares which wondered why a knight was panting from exertion outside the library.
When she finally entered, and began to make her way through, she noted with some embarrassment the clinking of her boots against the libraryâs hard floor. The scholarsâ irritated gazes were a little harder to take. She busied herself by measuring her wordsâcrafting an argument, courteous yet firm, with which to persuade Ailn to return with her to the Great Hall.
âIâm going to murder you,â Camille said, unable to stop herself from grabbing Ailnâs collar.
âWell, youâd have to beat me in a sword fight first,â Ailn replied, shrugging yet averting his eyes. One of his hands held a book. âIâve heard youâve had a pretty long losing streak against Dame Alera.â
Camilleâs fingers twitched in her gauntlets. How difficult would it be to simply seize his throat?
âYou canât!â A small girl suddenly tugged down on Camilleâs right arm, attempting to protect a duke who did not deserve it. âUncle Ailn is⌠Uncle Ailn is helping meâŚâ
â...Uncle Ailn?â Camille blankly echoed.
The girlâs stuffed animals had dropped to the floor in her frantic act. So, Camille knelt down, picked up her pig, dog, and turtle, and handed them to the girl gently. Then she explained to the small girl with a sweet smile, âThis bad man has lied to you.â
âI didnât, actually,â Ailn said casually. âThis is Bea. Bea, this is your Aunt Camille. Well, technically your first cousin once removed.â
âHave you no shame?!â Camille hissed. âWhatever gambit you believe youâre playing, no result can justify toying with the feelings of a child.â
âI told you Iâm not,â Ailn said, impatience edging into his tone as he pinched the bridge of his nose. âJust so you know, itâs the Azure Knights who completely missed her. She stowed away in the supply cart.â
âThatâs absurd, I checked the cart myselfââ Camille fumed.
But Bea interrupted her, peering up guiltily as she clutched her stuffed animals tighter. âThat time you looked for me at the carriage⌠I was hidingâŚâ Her gaze lowered. âUnder the chair⌠You thought I was a burminâŚâ
Camille froze, recalling the time she thought a racoon had been eating foodstuffs from the supply cart.
âThatâstill fails to explain how she would beââ Camille began to sputter. âFrom whereââ
âBea, whereâs your home?â Ailn asked.
âVenlind,â Bea said.
âAnd whatâs your papaâs name?â Ailn asked.
âSigâŚSigherdâŚâ Bea mumbled.
Very quickly, Camilleâs world was losing all sense of reason.
A knight was negotiating with the imperial family, and a duke was taking a child to eat strawberries.
The irresponsible and irreverent second son of the eum-Creids was covering for the scandal of the gilded heir.
A four-year-old had outwitted Varantâs finest knights.
âEven so!â she snapped, desperately holding onto her sense of indignation. âOne of the knights could have watchedâwatchedââ
âBea,â Bea said. âLike a bzz.â
âWatched Bea! Thank you, Bea!â Camille glared at Ailn. âWhat matter have you that âconcerns the security and prosperity of Varant?!ââ
Ailn winced and fell into that odd habit of hisâwhere he fidgeted with the buttons near his wrist. Then, he seemed to come to a decision.
âLook, I canât explain everything,â Ailn said. âThere are⌠sources which I canât share with anyone. But I can tell you this.â He held up the book heâd taken from the library, opening to a specific page.
The book was a collection of chronicles, detailing the noble histories and lineages of the duchy of ark-Chelon. A decade old, the book was still fairly new. But still, the lineage on the open page had been purged in the years following its compilation.
Camilleâs eyes widened in alarm. Perplexed as she still was, that was not a name she could forgetâand any matter which bore relation could only be insidious.
Ailn pointed to the family tree. âI donât know how exactly. But I have a strong feeling that someone among these names is aiming for Sigurdâs life.â
Then he added, âItâs a good thing you came, by the way. We were headed to your dadâs place.â
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All at the roundtable were struck nearly speechless. Kylian certainly had no words. When Ailn had slighted the imperial family with his absence, it could have generously been called intrepid. Spending his day in such conspicuous frivolity, however, was a glaring insultâthe suggestion that the imperial family were less deserving of his time than the child of a commoner.
And Kylian still had no idea where Ailn had gotten the child in the first place.
Though it was Ailn whoâwhatever his intentionsâinsulted the imperial family, it was Kylian who had to take his seat at the table, bearing their furious, imperial gazes.
â...Donuts?â Isolde finally uttered. âStrawberries?â
The second imperial princessâs red eyes bore into Kylian, as if he were the keeper of Ailnâs evidently lacking diet. What, exactly, did she expect him to say?
Abruptly, Severus burst into laughter. He even slammed the table, it was apparently so riotous.
âSeverusâŚ?â Millie called his name worriedly, placing her palm upon his chest. âIs your pride wounded, SeverusâŚ? Iâm sure the duke had his reasons for acting like such an insufferable, self-absorbed son of aââ
She cleared her throat, clasped her hands together demurely. âAhem. Ashton, darling, a glass of water if you would please?â
It was rather bold for a baronsâ daughter to call a dukeâs son by his first name. To say nothing of asking him to personally retrieve a glass of water. Kylian couldnât help but think that Ashtonâs smooth, unbothered smile was beginning to come off as a touch pathetic, as he stiffly requested glasses of water from his retainers.
âThe duke certainly does have his reasons,â Severus said, sounding coolly amused. He paused, his gaze wandering over his siblings. His eyes narrowed in condescension and disbelief. âAre you two really so blind?â
â...Severus, spare me,â Isolde spat, stealing an icy glare at Millie. âYou of all people have no right to speak of blindness.â
âSeverus!â Millie buried her face into his arm with a pleading sob. âI told you Isi detests meâŚâ
âWhat⌠did you just call me?â âIsiâ stared unblinkingly at Millieâs back.
âThere is nothing to âsee,â Severus,â Evgeni lectured. âThe young dukeâs reputation as a fool precedes him. He mistakes puerility for wit. Self-indulgence for statecraft. That will cost him.â
One of Severusâs retainers nervously approached the roundtable, whispering something in his ear. This only led to more laughter from Severus.
âTell me, Evgeni,â Severusâs voice cut through the air. âWhy, this very morning, would Duke eum-Creid see fit to dispatch a courier to Varant, summoning the former duke, Sigurd? If he is so daft, then unraveling his motives should be facile.â
He did what? Kylian resisted the urge to openly nurse his headache.
The knight maintained his stoic posture. His arms were crossed. His gaze was level.
âŚHis stomach was twisting into knots.
âBecause he is an imbecile, Severus,â Evgeni ground out. âI can think of no other reason why.â
âI pity you, Evgeni. Duke eum-Creid has merely wrapped himself in the illusion you so dutifully maintain.â Severusâs voice was amused, yet coolly appraising. âFools always make this fatal mistake. They let the clever don the hat of a jester. Ah.â
He calmly gestured toward Kylian. âBut I suppose his knight here will do us the courtesy of explaining it. Even now, the dukeâs designs become clearer to me.â
What? Kylian genuinely had no idea what Severus was talking about.
âConsider this,â Severus went ahead and began to dissect Ailnâs actions. âThe man has a reputation for lacking political acumen. And what does he do? On the very day of the negotiation? He sends for his âsuperiorâ brother. He retreats to the library with a child, as if accepting he isnât sufficiently learned. Meanwhile you two wait for him, sulking and gnashing your teeth.â
âHe parades as an idiot, and yet we bear the banner?â Isolde scoffed at the absurdity. Her mocking glare snapped to Kylian. "Tell me, Sir Kylian, how in all the world does that follow?"
It didnât. But his experience in battle told him even knights must sometimes ride the tides of fortune.
âHis Highness Ailnâs victory over His Grace Sigurd⌠stemmed partially from an ability to unravel the former dukeâs mind,â Kylian said.
And that was all he said. Because it was the truth, however misleading. Ailn hadnât so much orchestrated grand psychological gambits, as simply profoundly irritated his older brother.
âThis is⌠a profound overestimation of Duke eum-Creidâs intelligence,â Ashton said irritably. He wasnât even smiling anymore.
At least in the realm of politics, Kylian had to agree. But Severus pressed on, taking Kylianâs opportunistic comment as the absolute confirmation of his ornate theory.
âThe symbolism should speak for itself, Evgeni,â Severus said dryly. âTruly, what use are all your academic learnings if you cannot apply them?â Just as Evgeni began to rebut, he added, âTell me. What shape is a donut? What color is a strawberry? What item brings us all here, today, and what are its characteristics?â
Evgeni froze, then flinched in realization. He raised his head, staring at his brother for a moment with harrowed eyes, before resting it once again on his steepled hands.
Which had begun to tremble.
Isoldeâs eyes shot wideâonly for a fleeting momentâand the amused curl of her lips began to stretch. âThis is the dumbest, godsdamnedââ
âThe Dragonâs Promise is his,â Severus went on. âHis to offer. His to destroy. And we are the ones in need of it. Tell me this. What color defines the imperial lineage?â
âAh, so heâll pluck out our eyes as a treat for children,â Isolde giggled freely, her eyes beginning to drift away in boredom as if she only now grasped the extent of her brotherâs pseudo-intellect. âIs that what youâre saying?â
âAllow me to put this in terms suited to your⌠particularities, Isolde,â Severus said, letting out a heavy, chuckling sigh, as if his sisterâs ignorance were truly tragic.
The crown prince pantomimed the plucking of a strawberry, and the slow raising to his mouthâbiting it with a sharp and succulent pop. Then he let out a breathy âahhh,â as if the invisible strawberry really were that delicious.
And as if that werenât enough, he made a show of licking every single one of his fingers, to Isoldeâs growing rage. âHeâs playingâŚâ Severus said, in between licks, â...with his food.â
At this, finally, Isoldeâs smirk completely disappeared. The entire hall was silent, as the sclera of her eyes turned as bloody as the crimson of her irises.
âAnd what⌠makes him think⌠he can do that?â Isolde finally gritted out.
Kylian wondered if perhaps he had horribly miscalculated.
Comments
Arthefom
Well, right now he's trolling them, subconsciously of course. But the effects are there.
Arthefom
In the end, it's three princes fighting over the throne, and it all depends on the ring. Instead of throwing a tantrum like little children, they should realize they're in his hands. It's not a pleasant situation for the princes, as they apparently aren't used to being told "No."
Emperor Cat VI
No but this is fking hilarious đ they think he is some Uber smart villain
