Argrave surveyed Svetlana of Quadreign. She wasn’t exactly a main character, but she was a companion the player could recruit—these reasons alone made her notable. She regarded the three of them with the same curiosity. In particular, she studied Galamon.
“Svetlana—wait for me outside, please,” Vasilisa said. “I have some business to discuss with the Drawnwaters.”
The Magister’s niece gave a slow, steady nod. “…sure, I can do that. I do have something rather important to talk to you about. As a matter of fact, I was going to discuss it with the margravine.”
“Later, then,” Vasilisa said somewhat urgently. “I’d like to finish up here.”
Hesitantly, Svetlana stepped back outside and shut the door behind her with a small wave before it shut.
“Glad you’re here, cousin,” Pavel called out to Margravine Sophia. “Our guests were discussing something rather interesting—something I think you should be part of.”
“I’m not certain what the Quadreigns might need to speak of with us,” Sophia said as she moved to take a seat on the couch. “Perhaps they mistook ‘margravine’ with ‘margrave.’”
“Half-right. Secrets new and secrets old… about your husband, it seems,” Pavel described succinctly, making room for her. Sitting side-by-side, they seemed brother and sister more than cousins.
The margravine’s green eyes narrowed. “You want to discuss Ivan,” she repeated. “If you want me to change his mind on a matter, you’re wasting your time. My husband likes as few words from me as possible.”
Argrave took a deep breath and sighed. “I understand things have been strained between you and your husband. As such, I’m going to take a large risk, and ask to speak with you frankly,” Argrave explained.
The margravine looked at him. “Who exactly are you?”
“Here? No one,” Argrave clasped his hands together as he shook his head. “In my land, they call me Silvaden ‘the Smiler.’ Now, I’m merely one working beside Magister Vasilisa. She and I have been handling an important matter together. And this matter has come to directly concern you and your family.”
The margravine frowned. “Alright. Then… even if you speak frankly, since Vasilisa of Quadreign brings you into my home… I will allow it.”
Argrave cleared his throat. “As you know, House Quadreign bears a significant debt to Margrave Ivan. Without the flame Quadreign once owned, the city cannot function: the clocktower has ceased, the homes are unheated, and things have become unsustainable all around. This debt has been increasing month by month, as I understand things.
“Despite the fact that Margrave Ivan could send another to collect the debt, he comes himself every time,” Argrave continued quickly, before his listeners could grow confused. “We’ve come to find that this is because he has a mistress in the city.”
The Margravine’s fair skin grew paler, and she took a deep breath. Argrave her stew in the silence for a time, yet felt deeply uncomfortable looking at the rapid changing of emotions in her face. Vasilisa, too, looked quite tense.
“Quite frankly, we would have let the information be at that,” Argrave continued. “But… we have reason to believe that this union bore a child. Margrave Ivan took this child with him quite recently, which allowed us to discover key secrets from the mother.”
Margravine Sophia rose to her feet. “What are you talking about?! You come to my home to speak of this?! This… this baseless slander?”
“Margrave Ivan took this child from its mother for one simple reason—to use the flame that he stole from House Quadreign to enhance the child’s magical capability,” Argrave continued stoically. “And that is why we have come here. Margravine—I’m certain that Ivan has never allowed you into the lower levels of the tower. Indeed, no one we’ve spoken to has been there. This is because it harbors the flame of Quadreign—the flame that Margrave Ivan stole all those years ago, and the flame that Margrave Ivan uses to train a successor in the magical arts. This successor, namely, is that child born of his mistress.”
“Do you have any idea the implication of what you’re saying?” the margravine questioned hysterically. “Have you any notion the consequence of a lie of that magnitude?”
“I do,” Argrave said without flinching. “The fact is, Margravine Sophia, I’m sitting here today because I’m absolutely certain of this accusation. And if you disbelieve me, you need only head into the lower levels of your husband’s tower. Within, you’ll find a flame as black as the night sky. A flame he hid from you, his wife. A flame he hid from all.”
Margravine Sophia’s breathing was quick and labored. “…get out,” she said quietly. “Get out.”
“I understand.” Argrave rose to his feet. “I did what I felt obligated to. We’ll be in the city a while longer. We’ll see ourselves out.”
Vasilisa looked distraught, but she rose to her feet just after him. Their party followed Argrave as he made to leave. Pavel looked thrown off balance, looking between his cousin and their party with some concern. The margravine sat back on the couch, clutching her stomach as though it was upset.
Once they came outside, Svetlana was gone. Though Vasilisa briefly looked for her, given the atmosphere they’d just caused they decided it would be best to leave quickly.
“Is your heart made of stone?” Vasilisa asked once they stepped outside.
“Among other things,” Argrave responded. The joke was understood only by Galamon and Anneliese and found funny by neither.
“That… good gods…” Vasilisa rubbed at her stomach, seeming just as upset as the margravine. “This is what you intended by ‘poisoning their relationship?’”
“The margravine will find the flame. She’s resourceful, and distrustful of her husband already,” Argrave declared calmly, walking down the road. “The flame alone will be proof enough to sway the margravine, I’m sure. Then, they’ll reach out to us.”
Vasilisa grabbed his shoulder, stopping him. “But what you said… is it real?”
“What do you think?” Argrave turned, looking down at her.
“I… I don’t see how you could know any of that,” Vasilisa said.
“I know the flame is down there. It’s the only place it could reasonably be. The rest, it’s… merely speculative,” Argrave lightened his words.
The Magister stared him down. “You take many liberties, Silvaden.” She grew silent, perhaps expecting a response from Argrave. He offered none. “But then… I let you take them. I gave you this role.”
“You won’t regret doing so,” Argrave shook his head. “I have as much—no, I have more reason than you to see this work out in our favor.”
“Seeing all you do so easily… it does make me question how much you’re being honest with me about other things,” Vasilisa replied.
“You know the most dangerous secret we have,” Argrave answered without skipping a beat, looking to Galamon. “Any other secrets I keep from you… it’s only for the safety of me and mine. And in time, I hope they can be revealed to you. I dislike keeping secrets from people I would like to call friend.”
Vasilisa’s blue eyes seemed cold almost always, but Argrave swore they warmed somewhat. “I drink with friends, but I’ve not shared a drop with you.”
Argrave laughed, then cautioned, “You will sink even deeper into debt trying to get me drunk.”
“Is that a challenge?” she raised a brow.
“Besides, considering what your niece mentioned… perhaps now isn’t the best time,” Argrave reminded her. “It seemed rather urgent.”
Vasilisa looked sobered. “Yeah… you’re right. Let’s wait for a little bit for her to come out, then return. I want to be sure she’s not still inside.”
#####
Days passed with complete silence from the estate of Drawnwater. On the other front, Vasilisa did not hear from Svetlana again, either. This fact concerned the Magister greatly. Argrave, curious himself, offered to have Anneliese scout for the young woman around the city. In the end, nothing came of their searching.
On the fourth day since their visit, however, they received a visitor: a woman and a man, the former wearing a veil over her face. It was quite easy to tell who they were, and their party took them to their room in the inn and warded the place so that they might speak privately without any listeners.
When Margravine Sophia pulled back her veil, Argrave judged their might have been another reason she’d been wearing it. Her eyes were quite puffy-looking and red as though raw. There was something else, there, too. Her face was tight in anger as she sat at the table prepared for her, hands neatly clasped atop it.
“I visited the lower sections of the tower,” the margravine began, staring at the wall.
Argrave nodded, pulling a chair up and sitting down quietly. “I’m sorry,” he started.
Sophia kept staring at the wall. Her cousin, Pavel, put a hand atop the both of hers, offering silent comfort.
Vasilisa pulled up her own chair and sat. “You mean to say, Margravine Sophia… the flame was there?”
“Of course it was,” Sophia snapped. “You told me it was. Why do you ask me?”
“I didn’t share Silvaden’s confidence,” Vasilisa shook her head. “But I… what did you see, exactly? How did you get there?”
“It was hard to get there,” Sophia shook her head, coming to attention now that she was asked for details. “I had to sneak in. I stayed overnight in the library, then went down on the mystic lift when the guards were less…” she laughed. “I feel such a fool. I was content never visiting a place simply because I had no interest and hated the man inside, not knowing that was the whole point.”
“And once there?” Vasilisa pressed.
“It was on the bottom floor that my search bore fruit,” she continued. “Once there, I looked around, finding nothing… until I found something. A staircase. It went lower. And I found a great blazing black fire, sustained by lesser flames and kept bound by some strange, black rock carved in a pit.”
Argrave nodded. “He doesn’t know the runes to contain it. He uses lesser means.” Argrave looked to Vasilisa. “Anything else?”
“What did it smell like?” Vasilisa asked.
“Ah… it had a very distinct smell,” Sophia’s eyes focused, recalling. “It was like… vinegar.”
Vasilisa took a deep breath and nodded. She set her elbow on the table and stared off into the distance, distraught just as the margravine. That she could say the smell uncoached was nigh incontrovertible proof.
“Given what you disclosed, I imagine you have designs on Margrave Ivan,” Pavel continued evenly. “I feel for my cousin. She is pragmatic as I am. Even setting aside his betrayal all those years ago, Margrave Ivan stole from House Quadreign. He has kept such a large secret from his wife, while having an alleged affair.”
Margravine Sophia clenched her hands together tighter. “This woman… who is she?”
“She doesn’t even know who Margrave Ivan really is,” Argrave shook his head. “We only learned of things through pure, dumb luck—she sought House Quadreign’s help after he seized the child, and eventually we extrapolated the details.”
Sophia fixed her eyes on Argrave. “You would keep her from me?”
Argrave sighed, searching for more made-up details. “She’s a young girl, barely of age, that made a mistake when manipulated by a man decades older than her. She never knew he was married,” he described succinctly. “Would you kill her? Punish her otherwise, cut out her tongue?”
Margravine Sophia tensed. Pavel spoke next, asking, “So, you can offer no genuine proof?”
“Ivan can prove things,” Argrave suggested. “When he’s overthrown, that is.”
Both of the two’s eyes widened.
“Vasquer is in civil war,” Argrave leaned into the table. “The north stagnates under the poor rule of Margrave Ivan. House Quadreign can avenge the betrayal Ivan wrought upon its queendom and regain the power lost by the theft of its flame. And at the end of it all… the faithful of Quadreign here would not be forgotten. And unlike Ivan… Quadreign is generous.” Argrave shook his head. “I’m tired of being vague. We want Ivan’s downfall. And we want your help.”
Argrave let his offer hang, sparing a glance to Anneliese who stood off to the side. She gave a nod that lent Argrave confidence things would go well.
“That is quite the offer,” Pavel concluded, swallowing. “Can we… have time?”
“I don’t need time, Pavel,” Margravine Sophia shook her head. “Ivan has never loved me. He hates even touching me. He refuses to let me into our bed, as though I’m some animal. And… I have little doubt he’s willing to debase our marriage. A traitor once is a traitor always, whether in marriage or in politics,” she said decisively. “I will geld that animal myself.”
The talk of gelding killed some of the satisfaction Argrave might have felt that things went well. Nonetheless… it was time to set things into motion. It was time to involve Hegazar and Vera.
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