/n/jackal-among-snakes-1520/c-263
chapter-262

“Not much has changed,” Argrave said as he read down the list. Anneliese rested her head on his shoulder, reading with him. With their alliance secured, Leopold accommodatingly allowed them to move their agents and things into the mansion. Though many of the people had come, many remained outside for the sake of caution. “All of these families were pretty prominent. It’s no surprise they’re on the Grand Council.”

“You think you’ll be able to get them to support us?” Elenore asked Argrave.

Argrave put the paper down and rose to his feet, looking out the window of Leopold’s mansion. He could see the river that split the city, the waters still alive with boats even this late at night. “Certainly. I know most of them well enough, and these days I think of myself as quite the idealogue.” Argrave scratched at his chin. “I’m more concerned about who might be on the delegate’s side.” Argrave looked to Elenore. “You really have nothing? Who’s missing in Atrus?”

“My agents in Atrus were largely preoccupied with another matter,” Elenore shook her head wistfully. “I don’t know who was sent.”

“And what is that other matter?” Argrave pressed.

“Well…” she paused, turning around. “Levin purged a good majority of my agents in the palace, if you’ll recall. Don’t worry about it, though—all will be fine. Put it out of your mind,” she brushed it off then quickly added, “As for the matter of that marriage Leopold requested, I think I can work something out.”

Argrave frowned as she changed the subject to that. He hadn’t been especially pleased that she’d so readily volunteered to handle the marriage.

“Who?” he pressed, stepping forward.

“A debt of mine. No one you’ve associated with—a southern family swearing fealty to Duke Sumner. Count Suchaz’s daughter.” Elenore shook her head. “He owes me too much to reasonably pay back. I’ll wipe some of his debt for this.”

“You were the one so off-put by his age, now you’ll consign some young woman to this one hundred- and fourteen-year-old man?” Argrave said forcefully.

“You protest,” Elenore noted, turning back around.

Just then a door opened, and Galamon and Durran entered. Durran gazed around wondrously, while Galamon moved to sit on the couch in the room they’d been given.

“Quite a place, wouldn’t you—” Durran said, then trailed off when he caught the confrontation between Argrave and Elenore obviously brewing. “I’m going to go sit,” he dismissed tiredly, stepping past them.

“Would you like to marry Leopold?” Argrave asked her.

“Of course not,” Elenore shook her head. “We talked about this, no? In the face of Gerechtigkeit, it is more compassionate to be dispassionate. This is what the man wants—we give it to him. It’s for the good of the realm. The good of the world.”

“I hate that you’re right,” Argrave shook his head, hands moving about frustratedly. “It’s just… can’t we choose someone who thinks the same thing? Someone who isn’t just being sold off by their parents to settle a debt?”

Elenore put one hand on her waist, the bronze jewelry on her finger clanging as she thought. “Argrave, I don’t think—”

“I think I know someone,” Anneliese cut in.

Argrave turned his head towards her. “Who? I can’t think of anyone we’ve met,” he shook his head.

“You have never met them. She was an old friend of mine back in Veiden,” Anneliese shook her head. “She is… a bit of an eccentric. She was friends with me, after all. I think she’s seventy-two this year. She had strange thoughts about marriage and life. I imagine an arrangement with Leopold might actually entice her, provided he refrains from limiting her freedom.”

Argrave frowned. “Does that… I mean, will Leopold really…”

“You heard him speak of us,” Anneliese said pointedly. “He seems to bear Veidimen no ill will. Indeed, he expressed interest. At the very least, it is worth broaching.”

Argrave stared, a little stunned, then laughed. “Yeah… I mean, yeah,” he turned his head back to Elenore, who seemed to be having similar thoughts as Argrave was.

“Then it’s settled,” Elenore concluded. “For now, we focus on this upcoming Grand Council meeting.”

“Less time for imbuing practice,” Argrave said in resigned dismay, then picked back up the paper he’d discarded. “Guess we focus on currying favor with the one percent.”