jackal-among-snakes-16091326
chapter-116

The Dragon Palace, seat of House Vasquer, moved as though it was a beehive with a bear on the outside. Officials, guards, and royal knights flowed quickly, each with their own purpose and with a sense of urgency. Diplomats met couriers, frantically reading and writing letters to send off to Vasqeur’s supporters. Royal knights obeyed commands from their commanders, each seeking different leads on the murder of Bruno of Parbon.

One person waded through the crowd with slow, steady steps. Royal knights bearing golden armor pushed through the crowd, acting as a wedge for their master. King Felipe III towered above all present, and though he was broad already, his veritable mane of graying obsidian hair redoubled his presence. He had gray eyes as steady as stone, and a beard all the way to his stomach. He wore elaborate black and gold armor that could nearly be called ceremonial, though enchantments on its surface bolstered its protective ability. A black mantle bearing a golden snake wrapped around a sword hung from his shoulders, barely touching the ground.

King Felipe moved through his courtiers, breathing steady and step calm. He stepped through the Dragon Palace, walked up the stairs leading to his throne, and then moved past it into a large meeting hall. A single large table stood at the center, with innumerable maps splayed out across its surface.

A thin, tall man waited politely in the room, his hands behind his rigid back. He had black hair kept diligently trimmed and rich blue eyes. His clothes were fanciful and bore the black and gold of House Vasquer. He had sharp, sunken features, with a stern air about him that commanded some mystique.

King Felipe stepped into the room, looking about. “Guard the room,” he directed his knights as he stepped forward.

The man placed his hand to his chest. “Father,” he greeted, dipping his head.

“Levin. Despite my direction, you’ve still not improved your magic,” King Felipe came to stand before his son. “Even my mistake shows better results than you.”

“Some are unsuited for standing on the front lines. I know my place,” Prince Levin said smoothly.

Felipe stared down contemptuously but shook his head and said nothing more on the matter. “Tell me what you’ve uncovered.”

Levin readily launched into explanation, saying, “The one responsible for organizing the event has been detained. The one who ordered this… remains unknown,” Levin said disappointedly. “The maid, Therese, has some connections to House Parbon. Her house originates from a cadet branch of their house. She served in the palace, attending to many courtiers.”

Felipe moved to stand over the maps on the table, staring down at the uneven rectangular continent of Berendar. “We allowed a cadet branch of House Parbon in the palace?”

“Her relation was so distant none considered it would hold bearing,” Levin explained.

“And nothing of her backing?” Felipe continued.

“Under torture, she revealed all the information she knew. They led to dead-ends. Her contacts fled, abandoning her. She will be crucified in the city square on the morrow,” Levin outlined. “I have sent some more seeking leads, but…”

Felipe smacked Levin’s head, and the man staggered slightly. “I give you a kingdom’s resource, you can’t keep one valuable asset safe? You persist on a thread, Levin. I question if it’s worth maintaining your life. You may cause trouble on succession.”

Levin shook his head, straightening his back once more. “I know my place. Induen is my better. I am inferior.”

Felipe stared down at Levin. “Be thankful Orion is your elder. Were he not, I would slay you.”

“I must thank my fortune,” Levin dipped his head seriously.

“Regarding your brother… the plague,” Felipe stepped around the table, retrieving another map. “Outline its spread.”

Levin leaned forward, retrieving a writing implement. He drew a circle around part of the northwestern region of the kingdom. “Orion has been working diligently to keep it limited to this area. Travel has slowed in the northern regions on account of winter. When the ice thaws…” Levin trailed off, setting down his tool. “It will spread.”

Felipe stared at the drawing, saying nothing. “A prisoner under house arrest died under our care. This will be perceived as a foolish act of tyranny. The northern nobles rallied beneath us will waver. We cannot expect them to be as steadfast as before.”

“I’ve been working on—”

“No,” Felipe said coldly. “You will recall non-essential men in northern territories. Ensure only that we know that they do not act against us. Now that things have come to this…” Felipe stroked his long beard. “We are weakened. We must weaken in turn.”

“Then I will direct my attention towards sabotage,” Levin nodded.

Felipe lifted his head up, staring Levin in the eyes. “Send men to the northwestern regions. Collect the corpses of those that succumbed to the plague. Spread them across the south, everywhere.” The king leaned over a map of the south. “Make sure Orion remains ignorant. The south will become a hellscape, where dead on the streets will be more common than clouds in the sky.”

Levin’s breathing grew quick and his eyes widened. Once his breathing calmed, he nodded. “I will see this done, father.”

“At the very least… I can count on your obedience,” Felipe looked over. “Go. See it done.”

Levin turned and walked away. As he walked, his expression grew dead.