"This is almost as big as our Sovereign's palace..." Polo murmured as the duo was led into the massive courtyard of the Kustov family, close to the middle of the Imperial District.
"It is not as beautiful, though. It is more oppressive than open, something that would make our Sovereign abhor it." Pion answered, remaining calm, following the old butler before them who was listening without wanting to miss a beat of what they were talking about.
"Sovereign? Who is that? Are they from the Geth Empire? They do have weird titles..." Barnabas thought but couldn't guess more as both of them stopped talking and continued walking leisurely. Looking over his shoulder, the young boy skimmed his eyes curiously from left to right, excited as a kid should be. In stark contrast, the bear of a man beside him kept a stoic and unreadable expression from the beginning, scaring him.
Pion's placid look had a simple reason; he meant what he said. Even though the courtyard had beautiful hedges and a small lake with colorful fishes that sometimes jumped into the air, it was nothing but an artificial decor. The moment someone looked further up, their vision would be obstructed by the eight to ten-meter-high solid wall surrounding the Kustovs' residence. Yes, the palace in Avalon also had its own walls, but it was more for the Sovereign's privacy and didn't give the same oppressive feeling that the one erected here. Here, Pion felt like he had entered a birdcage and not a home, something he wouldn't feel relaxed living in.
"This way, esteemed guests!" Barnabas spoke as they reached the steps leading up to the marble and stone building, heading into a massive greeting hall. From there, multiple stairs were heading toward the different wings of the estate, but they headed straight through the left, pushing a massive double door open to reveal a luxurious dining room behind it. The enormous table in the middle was already filled with food, as an army of maids stood ready to serve them with their heads bowed, looking only at their feet.
"Welcome!" Kustov shouted, scaring Barnabas as he didn't even notice that his lord was already there. What was happening? Was he waiting for them? Shouldn't this be the opposite? He should have been leaving soon and reported to the Duke that the guests had arrived.
"Duke Kustov." Pion smiled, unable to help himself because the last time he saw the limping noble, he was on the verge of death, being carried by him.
"Duke." Polo copied his greeting, slightly bowing, shocking Barnabas and the maids as this was barely enough to show respect to one of the dukes of the Empire. Yet, despite everything, Kustov wasn't angry at all, smiling from ear to ear.
"Leave us!" He commanded, and before Barnabas could argue, he was shot down with a commanding glare. They stood there, Kustov leaning on his cane right until everybody else left, closing the doors behind them. "I never had the chance to thank you for saving my life." He started, wanting to go down to one knee, but Pion stopped him in a hurry, finally showing his surprise.
"Huh... You remember?"
"I can only recall small moments. Flashes." He nodded, pointing towards the table to sit down and have a lavish dinner. "But I recognized your face, Lord Pion. The moment you entered this room, I remembered it!"
"Interesting. You were barely alive back then, but you are stronger than you look. Our Sovereign is very pleased with how you have been acting since your return."
"That is most relieving to hear!" He beamed just as if the Gods themselves had blessed him after listening to Pion. "Let's sit down; the road must have been long and odorous. Rest!"
"The route was less dangerous than entering the city." Polo chuckled as he sat down, starting to shamelessly browse amongst the different roasted meat and mouth-watering sauces prepared for them.
"Did something happen?" Kustov asked, a bit more nervous, making Pion wave a hand, gently bopping the head of Polo before grabbing an oversized ham and pulling it to his plate.
"The road was uneventful. Traveling under your daughter's flag for most of it made it so we easily passed through every checkpoint without being stopped. We ditched it after entering the capital region, but even then, we were not harassed."
"Until we entered the city. Then, just the first hour saw us facing and killing three bandits." Polo continued, rubbing the top of his head.
"The gal of some groups!" Kustov snorted, visibly angry, "You should have entered through the road for nobles! It brings you straight into the city without having to traverse through the underside of this sinful place."
"That would have been too much of a giveaway." Pion replied, "And it wasn't a big deal. They didn't try a second time, and we successfully made contact with your agents down there."
"I am ashamed to have a connection to people like that; please let the Sovereign know of my stance!"
"It's okay." Pion chuckled, "Lady Yuri, our Sovereign's third wife, was a ruthless bandit once. Everyone has a chance at redemption in Avalon. This is the heart of the Empire, and you can't expect to be crimeless, especially knowing the ruling bloodline. It just needs a firmer control. That's all; it is not your fault, Duke Kustov."
"Control..." Kustov murmured, but before he could ask questions, Pion reached into his breast pocket, pulled out the letter written by Leon, and presented it to him in pristine condition. "This is...?"
"I don't know. I was told to deliver it to your hands directly. That is it. I never question the orders of my Sovereign."
"Neither do I!" he answered firmly, holding back his impulses to tear it open. Instead, after a deep breath, he gently put it away and returned to eating and entertaining his most esteemed guests before showing them to their room by himself.
"My Lord..." Barnabas wanted to ask so many things after he finally caught Duke Kustov alone, but he wasn't willing to hear them.
"Old friend... Some things can't be talked about. You must understand that! Our family was almost destroyed, and I won't put ourselves into the same predicament again. I am making sure that even if I have to die, the bloodline survives and be safe at a place where no Ishillian can reach it."
"..." There was already enough information in Kustov's words to sufficiently convey the message to Barnabas. Understanding it made him drop any impulse that was driving him to learn more, trusting the determined look within Garbank Kustov's eyes. "Yes, My Lord. I understand... My old bones are at your service as always."
"Thank you, Barnabas." He smiled, letting out a soft sigh, patting his shoulders.
"Does the Lady know about it?"
"No." He shook his head, "The less people know, the better. Right now, besides you, Elena, and me, nobody else is in the know, and I want it to stay that way."
"The young lady? Oh." He hummed, suddenly feeling light shining on different pieces he had been unaware of until now. It began making sense... This was not about an outside force but something brewing within the Empire. This was the prelude to a rebellion!
"Make sure our guests' needs are attended. They can't stay for long, but I want them to leave with a satisfied expression."
"It will be done, My Lord." He nodded and left, letting Kustov stay alone in his office. Finally, he was able to open the letter, holding it with shaking hands and reading it multiple times, memorizing every word within it.
It took him three hours to sit back up and throw the letter into his fireplace. He watched it burn to ashes, murmuring under his breath, repeating the most important order from his Sovereign.
"Try to get close to the new Emperor..."
...
....
.....
"Is there something to report?" Pascal asked, noticing that one of the high-ranking royal guards, holding his lavishly decorated helmet in his hand, approached him the moment he left his library.
"Here are the reports of the previous week, Your Highness. From the two dozen dukes, more than half were approached."
"How many accepted the invitation of my descendants? Do they really think I was joking around?" He asked, snorting sarcastically. "Give me the list, I won't punish them, but their powers will be eroded. Idiots."
"There is... one more thing, My Lord. You asked us to keep an eye on the Kustov family."
"What happened?" he asked, stopping to walk and looking directly at the warrior, who was dressed in a golden and crimson set of shining armor.
"They were also approached but..."
"Say it plainly, don't miss any details." Pascal demanded while his full attention landed on the captain, making him feel that one wrong word would mean his end. At least, under Kathrien, that would for sure be the case.
"We looked up the individuals who entered his courtyard. They came from the Underbelly. They arrived at the city from outside, and following up on the clues, they most likely came from Greybank. It took us multiple days to verify their arrival, but we are 90% sure of it. The weird thing is that the Duke welcomed them... but they are commoners at best."
"And?" Pascal asked, surprising the man. "Who do you think runs the cities in the Empire? The cogs that keep this machine turning are its people. As long as they weren't agents from the royal family, all is fine."
"There is more."
"Just say it!" he grunted, annoyed at how cautious the guards were. They still feared Kathrien's outbursts and did not want to lose their heads by saying something that would anger anybody. It was a headache to get any information out of them because of it... "People can make mistakes. You won't be punished with death. Just speak already!"
"S-sorry My Lord! Um, after the individuals left, the Duke began making moves and expanding his influence in the lower city, taking over multiple gangs."
"Oh...?"
"Should we... step in and stop him? We received covert complaints from other nobles whose underground connections had been usurped by Duke Kustov."
"No. He is doing precisely what he needs to. Even without me nudging him... Ahahaha! This shows I was right... Good, good! Let him do as he pleases, but continue keeping an eye on him."
"Yes, Your Highness!"
"Now leave. I still need to see how things are. The candidates are getting fewer and fewer. If all things go well, I will announce a new Empress in a month or so! I can't wait any longer, as our neighbors are getting bolder than they should."
...
....
......
In a dingy tavern, a middle-aged man was nervously sitting in his usual corner, putting twice as much tobacco into his pipe as usual and mumbling angrily under his nose.
"Useless fucktard bastards... all of them. They had to go ahead and bring a fucking DUKE on our heads! I told them every time that we didn't want to get involved with them and that we should leave the nobles alone! Now, we are becoming the puppets in their plays, sacrificial lambs! Fuck, fuck, FUCK!"
His anger came from the simple reason that he was minding his own business only a few weeks ago, counting the money his gang was making and enjoying life. It wasn't much, but it was enough to provide a good life for these people and remain under the radar of more prominent gangs. Until one of the bigger ones, known to be connected to one of the many noble bloodlines, kicked down his door and gave him an option. Join or die. Rakkuan loved living his life, so of course, he agreed.
He didn't know until the last moment that the people overseeing his actions were connected to one of the Dukes... When he learned about it, he almost had a heart attack, knowing that whatever the future may hold, it was all fucked. People like him were nothing but cannon fodders, meat shields, and expandable numbers on a ledger somewhere.
"What the hell did I do to deserve this? I just sold people; I didn't hurt them. Or slaughter them... Neither did I eat them! Ugh... Maybe I should escape. They say the Frontier is full of barbarians; they wouldn't find me there! Yeah, gather all the wealth and slip it out before anyone notices it. I think I could live well there or even start over..."
"This is almost as big as our Sovereign's palace..." Polo murmured as the duo was led into the massive courtyard of the Kustov family, close to the middle of the Imperial District.
"It is not as beautiful, though. It is more oppressive than open, something that would make our Sovereign abhor it." Pion answered, remaining calm, following the old butler before them who was listening without wanting to miss a beat of what they were talking about.
"Sovereign? Who is that? Are they from the Geth Empire? They do have weird titles..." Barnabas thought but couldn't guess more as both of them stopped talking and continued walking leisurely. Looking over his shoulder, the young boy skimmed his eyes curiously from left to right, excited as a kid should be. In stark contrast, the bear of a man beside him kept a stoic and unreadable expression from the beginning, scaring him.
Pion's placid look had a simple reason; he meant what he said. Even though the courtyard had beautiful hedges and a small lake with colorful fishes that sometimes jumped into the air, it was nothing but an artificial decor. The moment someone looked further up, their vision would be obstructed by the eight to ten-meter-high solid wall surrounding the Kustovs' residence. Yes, the palace in Avalon also had its own walls, but it was more for the Sovereign's privacy and didn't give the same oppressive feeling that the one erected here. Here, Pion felt like he had entered a birdcage and not a home, something he wouldn't feel relaxed living in.
"This way, esteemed guests!" Barnabas spoke as they reached the steps leading up to the marble and stone building, heading into a massive greeting hall. From there, multiple stairs were heading toward the different wings of the estate, but they headed straight through the left, pushing a massive double door open to reveal a luxurious dining room behind it. The enormous table in the middle was already filled with food, as an army of maids stood ready to serve them with their heads bowed, looking only at their feet.
"Welcome!" Kustov shouted, scaring Barnabas as he didn't even notice that his lord was already there. What was happening? Was he waiting for them? Shouldn't this be the opposite? He should have been leaving soon and reported to the Duke that the guests had arrived.
"Duke Kustov." Pion smiled, unable to help himself because the last time he saw the limping noble, he was on the verge of death, being carried by him.
"Duke." Polo copied his greeting, slightly bowing, shocking Barnabas and the maids as this was barely enough to show respect to one of the dukes of the Empire. Yet, despite everything, Kustov wasn't angry at all, smiling from ear to ear.
"Leave us!" He commanded, and before Barnabas could argue, he was shot down with a commanding glare. They stood there, Kustov leaning on his cane right until everybody else left, closing the doors behind them. "I never had the chance to thank you for saving my life." He started, wanting to go down to one knee, but Pion stopped him in a hurry, finally showing his surprise.
"Huh... You remember?"
"I can only recall small moments. Flashes." He nodded, pointing towards the table to sit down and have a lavish dinner. "But I recognized your face, Lord Pion. The moment you entered this room, I remembered it!"
"Interesting. You were barely alive back then, but you are stronger than you look. Our Sovereign is very pleased with how you have been acting since your return."
"That is most relieving to hear!" He beamed just as if the Gods themselves had blessed him after listening to Pion. "Let's sit down; the road must have been long and odorous. Rest!"
"The route was less dangerous than entering the city." Polo chuckled as he sat down, starting to shamelessly browse amongst the different roasted meat and mouth-watering sauces prepared for them.
"Did something happen?" Kustov asked, a bit more nervous, making Pion wave a hand, gently bopping the head of Polo before grabbing an oversized ham and pulling it to his plate.
"The road was uneventful. Traveling under your daughter's flag for most of it made it so we easily passed through every checkpoint without being stopped. We ditched it after entering the capital region, but even then, we were not harassed."
"Until we entered the city. Then, just the first hour saw us facing and killing three bandits." Polo continued, rubbing the top of his head.
"The gal of some groups!" Kustov snorted, visibly angry, "You should have entered through the road for nobles! It brings you straight into the city without having to traverse through the underside of this sinful place."
"That would have been too much of a giveaway." Pion replied, "And it wasn't a big deal. They didn't try a second time, and we successfully made contact with your agents down there."
"I am ashamed to have a connection to people like that; please let the Sovereign know of my stance!"
"It's okay." Pion chuckled, "Lady Yuri, our Sovereign's third wife, was a ruthless bandit once. Everyone has a chance at redemption in Avalon. This is the heart of the Empire, and you can't expect to be crimeless, especially knowing the ruling bloodline. It just needs a firmer control. That's all; it is not your fault, Duke Kustov."
"Control..." Kustov murmured, but before he could ask questions, Pion reached into his breast pocket, pulled out the letter written by Leon, and presented it to him in pristine condition. "This is...?"
"I don't know. I was told to deliver it to your hands directly. That is it. I never question the orders of my Sovereign."
"Neither do I!" he answered firmly, holding back his impulses to tear it open. Instead, after a deep breath, he gently put it away and returned to eating and entertaining his most esteemed guests before showing them to their room by himself.
"My Lord..." Barnabas wanted to ask so many things after he finally caught Duke Kustov alone, but he wasn't willing to hear them.
"Old friend... Some things can't be talked about. You must understand that! Our family was almost destroyed, and I won't put ourselves into the same predicament again. I am making sure that even if I have to die, the bloodline survives and be safe at a place where no Ishillian can reach it."
"..." There was already enough information in Kustov's words to sufficiently convey the message to Barnabas. Understanding it made him drop any impulse that was driving him to learn more, trusting the determined look within Garbank Kustov's eyes. "Yes, My Lord. I understand... My old bones are at your service as always."
"Thank you, Barnabas." He smiled, letting out a soft sigh, patting his shoulders.
"Does the Lady know about it?"
"No." He shook his head, "The less people know, the better. Right now, besides you, Elena, and me, nobody else is in the know, and I want it to stay that way."
"The young lady? Oh." He hummed, suddenly feeling light shining on different pieces he had been unaware of until now. It began making sense... This was not about an outside force but something brewing within the Empire. This was the prelude to a rebellion!
"Make sure our guests' needs are attended. They can't stay for long, but I want them to leave with a satisfied expression."
"It will be done, My Lord." He nodded and left, letting Kustov stay alone in his office. Finally, he was able to open the letter, holding it with shaking hands and reading it multiple times, memorizing every word within it.
It took him three hours to sit back up and throw the letter into his fireplace. He watched it burn to ashes, murmuring under his breath, repeating the most important order from his Sovereign.
"Try to get close to the new Emperor..."
...
....
.....
"Is there something to report?" Pascal asked, noticing that one of the high-ranking royal guards, holding his lavishly decorated helmet in his hand, approached him the moment he left his library.
"Here are the reports of the previous week, Your Highness. From the two dozen dukes, more than half were approached."
"How many accepted the invitation of my descendants? Do they really think I was joking around?" He asked, snorting sarcastically. "Give me the list, I won't punish them, but their powers will be eroded. Idiots."
"There is... one more thing, My Lord. You asked us to keep an eye on the Kustov family."
"What happened?" he asked, stopping to walk and looking directly at the warrior, who was dressed in a golden and crimson set of shining armor.
"They were also approached but..."
"Say it plainly, don't miss any details." Pascal demanded while his full attention landed on the captain, making him feel that one wrong word would mean his end. At least, under Kathrien, that would for sure be the case.
"We looked up the individuals who entered his courtyard. They came from the Underbelly. They arrived at the city from outside, and following up on the clues, they most likely came from Greybank. It took us multiple days to verify their arrival, but we are 90% sure of it. The weird thing is that the Duke welcomed them... but they are commoners at best."
"And?" Pascal asked, surprising the man. "Who do you think runs the cities in the Empire? The cogs that keep this machine turning are its people. As long as they weren't agents from the royal family, all is fine."
"There is more."
"Just say it!" he grunted, annoyed at how cautious the guards were. They still feared Kathrien's outbursts and did not want to lose their heads by saying something that would anger anybody. It was a headache to get any information out of them because of it... "People can make mistakes. You won't be punished with death. Just speak already!"
"S-sorry My Lord! Um, after the individuals left, the Duke began making moves and expanding his influence in the lower city, taking over multiple gangs."
"Oh...?"
"Should we... step in and stop him? We received covert complaints from other nobles whose underground connections had been usurped by Duke Kustov."
"No. He is doing precisely what he needs to. Even without me nudging him... Ahahaha! This shows I was right... Good, good! Let him do as he pleases, but continue keeping an eye on him."
"Yes, Your Highness!"
"Now leave. I still need to see how things are. The candidates are getting fewer and fewer. If all things go well, I will announce a new Empress in a month or so! I can't wait any longer, as our neighbors are getting bolder than they should."
...
....
......
In a dingy tavern, a middle-aged man was nervously sitting in his usual corner, putting twice as much tobacco into his pipe as usual and mumbling angrily under his nose.
"Useless fucktard bastards... all of them. They had to go ahead and bring a fucking DUKE on our heads! I told them every time that we didn't want to get involved with them and that we should leave the nobles alone! Now, we are becoming the puppets in their plays, sacrificial lambs! Fuck, fuck, FUCK!"
His anger came from the simple reason that he was minding his own business only a few weeks ago, counting the money his gang was making and enjoying life. It wasn't much, but it was enough to provide a good life for these people and remain under the radar of more prominent gangs. Until one of the bigger ones, known to be connected to one of the many noble bloodlines, kicked down his door and gave him an option. Join or die. Rakkuan loved living his life, so of course, he agreed.
He didn't know until the last moment that the people overseeing his actions were connected to one of the Dukes... When he learned about it, he almost had a heart attack, knowing that whatever the future may hold, it was all fucked. People like him were nothing but cannon fodders, meat shields, and expandable numbers on a ledger somewhere.
"What the hell did I do to deserve this? I just sold people; I didn't hurt them. Or slaughter them... Neither did I eat them! Ugh... Maybe I should escape. They say the Frontier is full of barbarians; they wouldn't find me there! Yeah, gather all the wealth and slip it out before anyone notices it. I think I could live well there or even start over..."
