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[Rough Draft] Chapter 44: A Mask of Ambition
The banquet hall in Gilwren Manor, which would also serve as the ballroom after dinner, was much smaller than the ballroom back in Lily Palace. However, it held room enough for six oak tables staggered so that all the nobles faced the platform on which the table for the royal family was placed. Around the banquet tables, there was still plenty of room for the sixty nobles in attendance to mingle while finding their seat.
The banquet halls themselves were covered by an artist’s brush in a canvas of trees, dancing golden leaves, colorful birds, small furry woodland animals, and small twisted mushrooms. Trophy antlers hung evenly about the room, each with ten points or more, and the name of their hunter etched into a gold placard. The white stag, which Nicholas had shot early, had its fourteen antlers similarly displayed on the wall behind the raised platform.
Carina took in the extravagant decoration of golden ribbons against dark verdant green silk tablecloths adorned with flickering candles wrapped in what resembled bird’s nests painted red.
“Interesting decoration,” Hana murmured as she removed the Duchess’s cloak, then handed it and her own to a waiting servant. “Your mask, Kirsi.”
For the purposes of this masquerade, the women were given golden masks that covered their faces from forehead to nose, along with what Carina would describe as toy bows and arrows painted in gold and white.
“It will be easy enough to tell who the Duchess is,” Ivy observed as she stood side by side with Hana. “But we might be mistaken for each other.”
Carina laughed as she took in their matching red gowns, bow and arrows, mask, and blonde hair. Although Ivy had jade-green eyes while Hana’s were a bluer turquoise color, one wouldn’t be able to tell from a distance.
“Shall I announce you, your Grace?” the steward by the entrance door inquired as Carina secured her mask in place.
“Yes,” Carina replied as she handed over the formal invitation card of the nobles presented to the nobles Viscount Rykard considered elevated enough to attend his private ball in honor of the Royal Hunt.
“Ready?” Hana asked as she and Ivy positioned themselves on either side of Carina.
“No,” Ivy replied breathlessly.
“Stay together, and we’ll be fine,” Carina said confidently as she adjusted the strap of her toy bow.
“Her Grace, Duchess Kirsi Valda accompanied by Viscountess Hana of Somerset and Viscountess Ivy of Everdeen!”
Several curious masked gazes turned in their direction as the Duchess led the way into the ballroom.
‘What is the point of these masks if they’re still going to introduce us by name?’ Carina wondered, suddenly wishing she had arrived sooner. Everyone else in the ballroom had the advantage of anonymity, though it was easy enough to recognize members of the royal family.
While the ladies were dresses as huntresses, the men all wore black suits and white masks with golden antlers. Still, Carina couldn’t help but notice that some of the men had more points on their antlers than others and quickly realized that they represented some unspoken symbol of enforced hierarchy, given that Nicholas’s mask had the most points out of all the men present.
“How peculiar,” the Duchess murmured as a boy dressed in a dark green suit moved over to greet her with a bow.
“The Viscount asked that I lead the Duchess and her friends to their seats,” the servant boy explained.
“Very well,” Carina replied as she motioned him forward. “Once we find our seats, I will greet his Maj—”
“Announcing Marquess Stephen Borghese and his daughter, Lady Priscilla Borghese!” the page announced loudly from the doorway behind them.
Carina turned sharply and found the Marquess’s masked faced focused in her direction. Beside him, Lady Priscilla paid the Duchess and her friends’ little attention as she clutched her father’s arm and focused on the royal banquet table.
“Your Grace,” Hana whispered as she took the Duchess’s arm. “We should find our seats.”
“Yes, of course,” Carina murmured. The trio moved away from the door and followed the servant boy to the right table just below the royal platform.
Small white cards with their names inscribed waited for them on empty porcelain plates trimmed with red paint.
“I can’t believe I’m sitting this close to royalty,” Ivy whispered as she clutched the back of her chair with one hand and lifted her place card. “This feels—like a dream.”
“An odd dream,” Carina replied, her attention focused on the Borgheses, who had gone straight to the royal table and bowed formally before Nicholas and Eleanora.
The Crown Prince’s smile drew a frown from the Duchess, who watched with growing confusion as Priscilla curtsied before Eleanora and then kissed the Crown Princess’s hand. Eleanora’s expression, rather than gratified, glittered with a fury Carina was all too familiar with.
‘What is going on?’
“Prime Minister Attwood Hargreve and Lord Acheron Hargreve!”
The Duchess turned quickly and spotted the father and son as they made their way into the banquet hall. “Excuse me for a moment, I’m going to have a word with the Prime Minister,” Carina said as she brushed Hana’s shoulder and left the two Viscountess at the table.
It was easy enough to tell which of the masked Hargreve’s before her was the Prime Minister. Attwood smiled and bowed his head politely while Acheron coughed and studied Carina’s gown with a rueful grin.
“It doesn’t seem fair to go hunting when you’re dressed like bait, your Grace,” the Rogue muttered with dark amusement, his tone somewhat muddled by what Carina assumed to be wine.
“Acheron!” Attwood snapped sharply. “Go find our seat. If you’re in the mood to chat, then spend it making peace with your fiancé!”
Carina shook her head as the drunken nobleman moved off with a sour expression.
“My apologies, your Grace—”
“It’s alright, Prime Minster,” Carina replied quickly. “I wanted to speak to you for a moment in private?”
“Ahh!” Attwood nodded and promptly offered his arm. “Have you had a tour of the Manor yet, your Grace? These glass doors over there lead down to the backyard and the Viscount’s prized water fountains. He’s not much of a gardener, but your grandfather does have some of the finest water fountains I’ve ever laid eyes on.”
The Duchess accepted his arm with an amused smile as the Prime Minister whisked her away from the crowd of curious nobles towards the framed glass doors that flickered from hundreds of candles that burned in the chandeliers above them.
“Thank you for the smooth extraction,” Carina said quickly when she was certain no one was close enough to listen in. “I wanted to ask your opinion regarding that.” She pointed to where Borghese and Priscilla still stood before Nicholas and a rather vengeful-looking Crown Princess.
“Ahh.” Attwood sighed as he glanced over the tense scene. “A rather unexpected turn of events.”
“Care to explain further?”
The Prime Minister shook his head with a regretful smile. “I am aware your Grace had intended to bring down the Marquess on behalf of his Majesty to prevent the threat of a noble uprising, but—all I can say is that a different—or more peaceful arrangement has been reached.”
“Different?” Carina echoed as she pulled her hand away from his arm. “You mean Nicholas isn’t going to have the Marquess arrested?”
“I’m afraid that after tonight, his Majesty would be placed in a rather awkward position if he attempted to arrest the Marquess.”
‘What?’
Attwood drew in a slow frustrated breath and placed a hand on Carina’s shoulder with a sympathetic smile.
“I know it’s not the outcome you wished for, your Grace.”
“Then—what about the Marquess’s army!”
“The Marquess has already transferred military leaderships to the Crown Prince along with all funds related to the upkeep of the army.”
Carina blinked in disbelief. “W-when—no, why?”
“Crown Prince Nicholas asked the Dowager to undertake a special mission as Regent while the majority of House of Lords was away for the Royal Hunt,” Attwood explained. “With the Marquess distracted by the Royal Hunt and its prize, the Dowager was able to send Knight Commander Quentin to search and find evidence of the Marquess’s illegal army as well as his other immoral activities.”
It took the Duchess a moment to digest this news. In particular, the fact that the Dowager had sent her not a word of warning about Nicholas’s plans.
‘No, in fact, it was the Dowager’s idea to have me request a bigger prize for the Hunt from Nicholas.’
“But—why go through all the effort—and still not arrest him?” Carina protested.
“Because alive, Borghese can unify the more nobles behind Nicholas,” Attwood answered patiently. “The Marquess’s death would only drive a deeper wedge between the Crown Prince and the Royal Faction.”
“But—what is to stop Borghese from trying to revolt later? And what is being done about the slaves the Marquess has been trafficking all over the kingdom and its borders?”
“Knight Commander Quentin is shutting down those slave tunnels as we speak,” the Prime Minister said as he turned Carina back towards the banquet. “As to keeping Borghese loyal, that responsibility now lies with his daughter.”
“With Priscilla?” Carina’s attention turned sharply to where Nicholas now stood, holding Lady Priscilla’s hand as he raised another to quiet the banquet hall.
“Your attention, please, lords and ladies!” Viscount Rykard called out loudly, and the room fell quiet.
“Thank you, Viscount,” Nicholas murmured with a smile. “I have an announcement I wish to make before we begin tonight’s festivities. It is my intention to take Lady Priscilla as a royal consort with the blessing of her father and the House of Lords.”
Surprise gasps and applause quickly rang around the room as Nicholas kissed the hand of a flushed but oddly quiet Priscilla.
“Congratulations, your Majesty!”
“Congratulations to the noble Lady!”
“A-announcing Viscount Alastair Kensington and Lady Isabella Kensington!” the page called out hesitantly as the jubilant voices throughout the banquet suddenly died.
Lord Alastair stared across the banquet tables at Nicholas and Priscilla with a look of unmasked disgust. Beside him, Lady Isabella trembled with the same fiery temper that Eleanora was struggling to mask behind an expression of indifference and a glass of wine.
“Announcing Earl Percy Hawthorne and Marchioness Serilda Kensington!”
Lord Alastair’s gaze finally left the Crown Prince and his new consort as he guided Isabell to the side. The crowd of nobles breathed an uneasy sigh of relief as Percy entered the room with Serilda on his arm. The Marchioness offered the Crown Princess’s parents an arched brow and bemused smile before she kissed Percy’s cheek and exchanged the Earl’s arm for that of Lord Eustice Winifred, who came forward to greet them.
“I am sorry, Duchess,” Attwood said quietly as he shifted uncomfortably beside her. “I can only say that his Majesty was intent on having the Marquess arrested—right up until the Marchioness changed his mind.”
‘Serilda?!’ Carina studied the confident noblewoman as Percy’s cousin made her way towards the Crown Prince. The latter quickly abandoned Priscilla’s arm without hesitation as Nicholas greeted the Marchioness and kissed her cheek. ‘So, Percy and Serilda are playing games with me behind my back.’
The Duchess curled her fingers into fists with a laugh of disbelief. The Prime Minister bowed politely to her and then made his way around the banquet tables to sit beside Acheron at the royal table.
‘With this move, Nicholas may have shifted the weight of Lafeara’s noble party behind him, but he’s also alienated himself completely from Eleanora, her family, and likely the Emperor. Now the pressure on Eleanora to produce an heir soon will increase ten-fold.’ She sighed in aggravation as she turned to gaze out the dark glass windows that overlooked the well-maintained lawns of Gilwren’s estate.
‘Depending on how much the timeline has changed, there is still Rosamund future pregnancy to deal with!’
While Carina still wasn’t sure Eleanora had been behind the poisoning of Rosamund’s unborn child in the last timeline, she knew for certain that Priscilla had not been a royal consort then.
‘I can’t just ignore the Borhgese’s either. First, Priscilla targeted me, and then Borghese targeted Ivy. I thought I could deal with them both now during the hunt and then return to focus on the plague—but now? What happens now? If Eleanora doesn’t have a child—if Rosamund arrives at the palace pregnant, or Priscilla ends up pregnant—will Eleanora still be framed? Will we be able to avoid a war with Ventrayna?’
“Your Grace seems distracted.”
Carina flinched as her gaze moved from the distant shadowy fountain to the Earl’s reflection in the glass before her. “I’m afraid I’m not in the mood for company, Lord Percy.”
“Ahh, I am sorry to hear that,” Percy murmured as he moved to stand to her left. “I was looking forward to having some time with you now that we’re no longer competing.”
“Who says that we’re not?” Carina muttered sharply as she turned and walked quickly back through the banquet tables towards her seat.
‘It makes no sense for Percy and Serilda to get in my way. The Marquess has been a thorn in their side as well, and he is certainly no friend of the Covens.’
Hana glanced up with a smile that quickly turned into a worried expression as the Duchess took her seat without a word.
‘The Coven’s don’t want a war with the Emperor. According to Percy, they want a Witch King and Queen to take the throne. So why secure the nobles behind Nicholas?’
Carina glanced up towards the Royal table where Priscilla had been given a seat at Nicholas’s left. However, the consort was all but ignored as Serilda sat on the woman’s armrest and whispered into Nicholas’s ear.
‘Serilda used to control King Henri with manipulative magic. She told me so herself. Nicholas changing his mind like this at the last minute has to be her doing! Surely I’m not the only one to have noticed.’
“Krisi,” Hana murmured as she reached over to clasp Carina’s hand gently. “It will be alright.”
‘Will it? The Marquess still has evidence that could get Ivy arrested. He went so far as to find Meredith to uncover any weakness I might have through Ivy. If her illness were also discovered—’ Carina glanced over and grasped Ivy’s hand as the startled girl turned and beamed a reassuring smile. ‘But now that Priscilla is a royal consort, I can’t make a move against her or the Marquess without Nicholas’s permission.’
The Duchess laughed ruefully as a young male servant approached their table with a pitcher of wine.
“Would your Grace and ladies like a drink?”
“Yes!” Ivy answered swiftly as she held up her cup.
“Ours as well,” Hana whispered as she released Carina’s hand and held both their glasses. When the servant moved on, Hana placed a glass firmly in the Duchess’s hand and held her own up for a toast. “To leave the problems of the future for tomorrow and enjoying the most of what we have today.”
“Here, here!” Ivy cheered as she clinked Hana’s glass and turned expectantly to Carina.
The Duchess sighed as she stared from her glass to the royal table.
“Tomorrow isn’t promised, Kirsi,” Hana whispered and nodded towards their raised glass. “We deserve to enjoy this evening—remember?”
Carina smiled apologetically as she raised her glass and added it to theirs. “You’re right. Let’s enjoy ourselves.”
‘The future will come, no matter what I do to stop it,’ the Duchess thought as she took a long, steady drink of the sweet wine.
‘Maybe instead of plotting to save the world, you should try ruling it for a change?’ Kirsi whispered from the dark reflection in Carina’s glass. ‘No matter how good the position of a castle or knight, you cannot control the board without a crown.’