Casting

A new day dawns, a new scene begins, and a new character walks on stage…today I meet a soon-to-be public proxy. Sir Owen comes from an interesting background. Born to merchants, he studied under his golden-goose father, who eventually became nouveau riche. With his family’s survival secured, Sir Owen’s childhood dream of becoming a knight seemed more attainable, especially since his family could afford the costs that came with the profession. He worked hard and became a knight, but his dream of being an imperial knight was too lofty an ambition. No matter how rich his family became or how talented he was, he was rejected at every turn. The reason? He was not born a noble. Disillusioned by the unfairness within the knighthood, he returned home to plan his future. Unfortunately, he returned to find his family had suffered many financial blows, which eventually led to their collapse and ruin. In the novel, his family was one of many rags-to-riches commoners to wither away and never recover the lush lifestyle that had worked so hard to attain. They had thought their ruin was because of a series of unpredictable, unfortunate events, but I know differently. Their financial woes were deliberate attacks to teach them, and other would-be nouveau riche commoners, not to overstep their station.

The Owens family has good business sense, so it wouldn’t be suspicious if they discover resources I plan to use from my knowledge of the story. And, while not my primary goal, they will become a very prominent name and, possibly, exceed their former standing. All for the better, though. Anything taken from the royal family will be one less thread woven into the royal tapestry.

Martha knocks at my door, “Your Grace, Sir Owen is in the waiting room.”

As I make my way to the waiting room, I wonder how quickly this meeting will reach Aleos’s ears. I’m slightly worried that if my plan doesn’t pan out, Aleos might become privy to my current scheme. But I’ll bet on his indifference towards Laveda to leave me be.

Servants open the door for me, and I enter, waving my maid away.

“That will be all, Martha. I will speak to Sir Owen on my own. I will call you when ready.”

Surprised, she takes a step back, and the door closes between us. I turn to see Sir Owen standing by the sofa. When our eyes meet, he bows deeply.

“Your Grace, I am honored to be in your presence.”

I walk towards the couch opposite him and take a seat. “Please rise, Sir Owen. No doubt you are teeming with curiosity why I have called you here.” I can tell he’s anxious by his stiff movements.

“Yes, Your Grace. I was very surprised to receive your summons. If I may be so bold as to ask what you wish from me.”

I notice the tea has been untouched, and lay my focus there. “Please sit, Sir Owen, it is hard to have a conversation with someone who towers over them.”

He immediately responds by sitting. His quick obedience is quite amusing.

“Would you like some?” I motion to the teapot.

“No, Your Grace.”

“Please call me,” I recall Aleos’s negative tone of ‘Duchess’, and opt for something else entirely, “Lady, or simply Ma’am.”

He squirms uncomfortably, as though I had asked him to call me by name, “Forgive me, Your Grace, I cannot.”

“I see,” I finish pouring my tea and settle in for negotiations. “I called you here because I need your assistance as both a businessman and a knight.” It’s clear he’s relieved and intrigued. “There are some things I wish procure, but do not want my name attached to them. They will become my personal assets, but I cannot have anything to do with them publicly.”

His brow furrows, and I can tell he’s holding back from asking a question, so I prod him.

“Speak freely, Sir Owen.”

“Your Grace…I must ask what it is you wish to acquire.”

“Nothing illegal or unsavory. Your knight’s code and ethics as an Owens merchant will not be in danger.”

He seems a little more receptive, but I can tell he isn’t quite on board. Fortunately, I have a trump card. Sir Owen will be my first public proxy, but he isn’t my first proxy. I had already gained a shadow proxy and hired him to dig up information on the Owens family’s fall from grace. There are just enough details to convince him of sabotage, but not enough to indict the specific nobles. Their fall will come in time.

I ring a bell that rests on the table, summoning a servant to come in, and ask that Martha bring in the documents. She quickly enters, delivers the papers, and leaves. I wait until Sir Owen and I are the only two left in the room, and then begin.

“I have looked into your family’s past financial troubles, Sir Owen.” A hostile glare flashes in his eyes as he sits in silence, waiting for a punchline. “Pardon the intrusion, but there were things I discovered, by chance, that did not sit well with me.” I tell a little lie. Better I claim my findings were accidental than be caught investigating the family outright. “I have here proof that your family’s troubles were not incidental, but by design.” I wave the papers in the air to add to the enticement. His eyes are wide and expectant, but he is still silent. “I present them to you as an olive branch. Should you choose to walk away from my offer, these papers are still yours.”

I slide them across the table, and he promptly retrieves them, flipping and skimming through as if looking for something specific. I can see the moment he finds it. An array of emotions transition, but he eventually calms his anger and slowly sighs.

“Thank you for bringing this to my attention. What happened to my parents’ business never sat well with me, and it is both relieving and angering to know it was not their decisions that brought ruin to the family. They were targeted.” He says the last portion under his breath.

“You were not the only family, it seems.”

His attention peaks, “The Carters?”

I nod.

“The Masons?”

Again, I nod. He sighs long and hard. No matter what knowledge he has, unless there is definitive proof and a powerful backing force, there is little he can do. But if we work together, he will get more than the justice his knight’s ethics longs for. If he agrees to this alliance, we can both accomplish our desires.

“Sir Owen,” there is a slight clink as I place my cup and saucer on the table, “you are powerless to contend with the corruption running rampant throughout the nobility. However, what if you had help from someone even more powerful?”

He immediately understands what I am hinting at between the lines. Good, I like smart associates. Sir Owen ruminates; the cogs work overtime in his mind, and again, he seems hesitant. It’s fine, I prefer prudent individuals. By the time I pour myself a fresh cup of tea, he breaks the silence.

“What is it you would have me do?”

Confidently I sit before him, with undeterred resolve, “Swear the Knight’s Oath to me, Sir Owen. Be my knight and I will be your lady. Then, and only then, will I include you in a plot that will benefit us both.”

He seems unsurprised at my bold statement, but he is cautious, “Why must I swear my Knight’s Oath?”

Why, indeed. In the original story, it was Seren who saved Sir Owen, though he had fallen much lower than now. He swore the oath to her, and she used him as she saw fit. Of course, he fell in love with her, but knowing she was with the prince, he kept his feelings to himself. What a pitiable, unrequited love story. It was the fate of all who had the misfortune of falling for Seren, except Eligius. He has no idea of the salvation I offer him if he swears loyalty to me. I won’t require him to serve me like Seren did; I will make him the richest merchant in the empire, and when the grand finale finally happens, he’ll have the last laugh.

“Sir Owen, what I will ask of you must remain secret. It is vital to my goals. Not even my husband must know. The only way to secure the utmost secrecy from you is if you swear your oath to me. No one would dare punish the sacred bond between a lady and her knight.

“In short, you wish to use my knighthood to bind me. If your husband, or even the king himself, asks anything about what we speak about behind closed doors, I can use the oath’s code as a shield to not divulge sensitive information?”

Very sharp, but still unreceptive.

“Your Grace, although I do not live a knight’s lifestyle, at heart I truly value its code. How can I pledge to you when I know you to be…an unfaithful woman?”

My brow furrows, but I catch myself before I act too shocked. But I don’t know what he’s talking about…I need to prod for more information.

“Sir Owen, please explain your accusation.”

He’s surprised, not expecting me to react calmly and curiously. Clearing his throat, “I,” He pauses then continues, “Even someone as lowly as I have heard of your relationship with Prince Eligius.”

Ahhhh, that man again?

“It has only been several months since the papers printed about your night together.”

Laveda and Eligius?!? I cough into my tea, spilling a little. There’s no way Eligius would ever share a bed with her, how preposterous!! Oh, is this why the duke hates his wife? This unfounded rumor?? The plot thickens!

“Sir Owen,” I begin while I pat the corners of my mouth with a handkerchief, “I speak truth when I say that I have never shared a bed with that man, and I defy anyone that says otherwise. Where is the proof?”

His face fills with awe and wonder as I sit unshaken while refuting those baseless rumors. I must be convincing because his gaze shies away in embarrassment.

“Forgive me, Your Grace, I should know better than to believe everything I read and hear, having been the subject of unfounded rumors myself.”

“Forgiven, it is behind us now. Is that your only reservation about this alliance?”

He thinks for a while longer, but finally concedes, “Your offer is too tantalizing. While I am still unsure of what tasks you require of me, or if I will truly be able to uphold my knightly honor while seeing them through…in the end, my desire to see justice out ways my reservations.”

Sir Owen stands and walks to my side, then bows in front of me on one knee.

“I will pledge myself to you; my life will be yours. I will follow you to my dying breath.”

Finally, he’s mine. He can’t ever pledge to another person—my will supersedes his. Don’t worry too much, Sir Owen, my schemes won’t hurt you. You’ll be the poster boy of success, and when the time comes, a face of revolution.

His head still hanging, I reciprocate, “You must trust me in all things, especially when you do not understand what I ask. I will not require you to protect me by wielding steel. Your ‘sword’ will be your mind, and I require you, as my knight, to use every bit of that business acumen to complete the tasks provided to you. And, in return, I will help raise your family from ruin, and through your rise, others as well.”

“You mean?”

“Yes, your family will not be the only ruined one to benefit. I require many proxies to see my plan through, but you will be the hub. I will relay my wishes to you and you alone, then it will be up to you to divide tasks amongst other families who were devastated by the noble’s attacks.”

“Yes, Your Grace.” Sir Owen takes my hand in his and brings it to his face. “I, Sir Owen, pledge my oath to you, Duchess Laveda.”

“No,” I interrupt him, and his concentration breaks as he gives me a quizzical glance. “Do not swear loyalty to Laveda; swear to me. Swear to me simply as Lady.” I can’t tell him my real name, not yet. I’m just not ready, but in time I shall. Then he will understand why I ask this of him.

His brow furrows for a moment, but then he continues, “I pledge my oath to you, Lady. My Lady,” Sir Owen finishes by kissing the back of my hand.

As this scene finishes, I secure my public proxies in one fell swoop.