Fury of a Prince

In the heart of Westeron, in the throne room of Castle Set, Lord-Prince Vallois was furious.

“What do you mean, ‘they had a dragon’?!” Vallois picked up the cup he’d been drinking from and flung it into the far wall.

The messenger was but a young boy fresh out of a magic academy, never having set foot I the presence of a lord but smart enough not to rise from his knee. “They… they had a dragon, sir.”

“I heard what you said,” Vallois snarled, “and that’s not an acceptable excuse! My boy and I hunted a dragon not a year ago. They can be killed! Their parts are worth their weight in gold! Get out of my sight and tell the Adventurers’ Guild they’ll have no more of my business while I’m still alive!”

When the messenger left, the people still in the room with Vallois finally exhaled. Shaunce, ever at his father’s side, stared at the shattered remains of the cup his father had thrown. “One of the adventurers said that the dragon returned to Drake’s Peak with them in tow.”

Vallois had more choice words to say but spared them from his son’s ears. They were not alone, anyway. Lord Fournet with his silver hair and Lady Fourney with her red ears were there with him. They’d stayed in his company since the Princess Knight Brawl. Ever since their daughter had, by sheer chance, found herself engaged to one of the last living members of the House of Wea’Vor.

It was tempting to call his levies. To raise an army to march across the land to Drake’s Peak and raze that mountain into naught but dust in the wind. But even if the other lords might agree that such a thing was strictly necessary, he knew that they would try to take advantage of his position.

And while Vallois had taken precautions to ensure he was well-positioned to take advantage of the House Wea’Vor’s end… he did not want to tip his hand until it was finally done.

Lord Fournet had lingered near the entrance to the throne room, sipping from a modest cup of tea. “Maybe we need to try a different approach.”

Vallois’ eyebrows quivered. “‘A different approach’,” he repeated. “What’s the point if it must end in the same way?”

Lord Fournet looked to his wife, who simply nodded for him to continue. “These two members of the family were but children when we launched the revolution. They may not understand why this is necessary.”

“And you’re convinced that telling them the Unspeakable Truth will convince them to lay down their lives?”

“…Perhaps not the Weavers,” admitted Lord Fournet. “But my daughter? The peasant? The dragon? They could be convinced.”

The prospect of what to do against a second dragon was giving Vallois ideas. Especially with what he’d done with the first one. That was more than worth the arm that one of the adventurers who’d been with him lost in the process. Or all the gold that he’d earned selling off the slain beast’s organs.

“All you need,” continued Lord Fournet, “is to convince them to remain at Drake’s Peak until you arrive.” He pulled out a small emerald stone from his pocket and showed it to Vallois. “I trust you recognize this?”

“One of the Emperor’s old summons stones!” Vallois stood up from his throne and crossed the room to get a closer look. “It’s how he announced he wanted a meeting with you. And then you had to reply.” He took it out of Lord Fournet’s palm and gazed into it. “I thought we destroyed them all.”

Lord Fournet chuckled. “I thought it too nice a piece of magic to destroy. I actually preserved a working pair.” He took the stone back and rolled it along his arm into his other hand. “My daughter has the spare. We could send a message to the Weavers asking them to remain in Drake’s Peak until we arrive.”

An intriguing plan, Vallois admitted. Sending the message through the stone would make keeping the Weavers in one spot easier. He had no doubt that he could handle any combination of the group. But there was a fatal flaw with the plan from what he could see.

“There is no way they won’t suspect this is a trap.”

“Which is why our proposal must be genuine, and why my wife and I must accompany you.” Fournet placed the stone back into his pocket. “We will reveal to them the Unspeakable Truth. Then, they can decide whether or not they consent to their own death. Of course, their consent is not strictly required. But it may give them some small comfort in their final moments.”

-----

“Lord Fournet! A word, please.”

Shaunce chased after the Fournets as they departed Castle Set. The hour was late; his father had already retired to his bed chambers. But the conversation he overheard left something nagging at him.

Lord Fournet turned with a smile. “Shaunce. If this is about my lady and I walking through Westeron in the dead of night, then they would be unwise to rob two members of the Assassins’ Guild.”

“No.” Shaunce shook his head. “It’s about the Unspeakable Truth.”

“What about the Emperor?” It was rare for Shaunce to hear Lady Fournet speak. She spoke so little that many nobles assumed that she was mute or had no tongue. An assumption that she clearly enjoyed using against them. But her eyes widened. “You don’t know, do you.”

Lord Fournet sighed. “I’m surprised. Not that your father didn’t tell you, he’s bound by the rules of the Unspeakable Truth. But that he never arranged for a servant or someone else to do it for him!” He shook his head in shame. “Your father was always of a single mind at times. But the good news is, once you know, you will not be so limited.”

It took Shaunce a few moments to understand why. But then he recalled that he never sworn the oath of fealty that his father had.

“My lady,” Lord Fournet said with a sad smile, “would it trouble you to stay a bit longer? So that one more soul can learn why the House of Wea’Vor must end?”

Lady Fournet met his sad smile with one of her own and nodded.