Chapter 15: 14: Opening the Door of the Birdcage

Isabella looked up at Abigail as they stood in the gardens of the royal palace.

She’s even taller than I remembered, Isabella thought. I suppose I was always looking up at her from afar when she was queen, so it would’ve been hard to tell.

Lady Abigail of Balat stood as tall as her father, who most certainly wasn’t a short man. If she were to don heels, she’d probably be taller than even Duke Valerio. Isabella thought Abigail was quite beautiful, but her face was stern and hard—again, like her father. She had very thick black hair which curled naturally, and dark red eyes.

In truth, Isabella had invited her here under false pretenses. The Archduke thought that she would help arrange a marriage between Abigail and King Edgar II, but there wasn’t a chance that Edgar would marry a woman taller than himself. He was quite petty and vainglorious, and placed stock more on image than ability.

Besides, she’d never curse a woman with that man. Well… perhaps Bernadetta.

Isabella needed a connection with the archduke. In truth, she’d always felt some sympathy toward Abigail, who seemed to have been jerked around her entire life by forces beyond her control until her death. She couldn’t recall a time where Abigail had tried to do another harm—rather, she did her best to be an able queen, no matter her pairing.

“I’m very glad you came, Lady Abigail.” She gestured behind her. “I intended for us to take a walk through the royal gardens.”

“Thank you, Your Highness,” Abigail responded at once.

Isabella stared up at her, then started walking. Abigail followed along, and soon enough they’d joined side-by-side.

“Your father wants you to marry the king,” Isabella said straight out of the gate, studying Abigail’s reaction. There didn’t seem to be any. “What do you want?”

“I want what my father wants,” Abigail responded immediately.

“What would you rather be doing right now instead of talking to me?” Isabella pushed.

Abigail looked at her. “I’m sorry, Your Highness.”

“I didn’t mean it like…” Isabella stopped herself, then rephrased, “What do you enjoy doing? I like to read, go horseback riding, and watch the hounds in the kennel. I haven’t had the chance to do any of that lately.”

“I also like to read, go horseback riding, and watch the hounds in the kennel,” Abigail responded.

Isabella smiled sadly. “Did your father tell you that people like others that have hobbies in common?”

Abigail looked over in what might’ve been surprise, but her expression was unchanged. “I’m sorry, Your Highness.”

Isabella thought for a moment, then decided to try a different approach. “Have you ever noticed that your father doesn’t have any friends?”

Abigail looked over without a response, but she seemed on the cusp of defending her father.

“He has people that obey him, but he doesn’t have any friends,” Isabella continued. “He has subjects and cooperators, but no friends. That means that all of the advice that he’s given you has been… well, I imagine not good.”

“But… my father…” Abigail finally tried to speak for herself, only to find no words to call upon. “He’s a good ruler. His people love him. And he taught me and my sister everything since our mother died. He’s protected me my entire life.”

Isabella looked at Abigail as they walked through the beautiful gardens. She knew that the archduke loved his daughter. He’d seceded from the kingdom after her death, and had reportedly become a hollow shell of a man. That was why it was so hard to understand why he pushed her so hard, why he endeavored to place her on the throne by any means necessary. It wasn’t something that she could understand.

Why would anyone want this life for their beloved daughter?

“He told me not to trust anyone here,” Abigail continued. “That I can’t let them know anything real.”

Isabella nodded. “He’s concerned for you. But… could me knowing what you enjoy hurt you or your family?”

Abigail took those words in silence as they walked through the garden, coming to a large pond where the koi fish roamed. Abigail looked at the fish, almost entranced.

“I like… our mammoths,” Abigail finally said.

“Mammoths?” Isabella raised a brow. “I’ve never seen one.”

“They’re very cute,” Abigail said, rubbing her hands together. “The baby mammoths especially. They have cute little faces that look like they’re smiling, and they run underneath the legs of the older ones.”

Isabella listened patiently, but Abigail trailed off. To prompt her, Isabella said, “Tell me more.”

“The baby mammoths have soft fur, but the older ones have coarser fur,” Abigail continued. “The biggest of them are about four times my height. They’re playful. They like to touch you all over with their trunks.” She looked at Isabella, then gestured. “You couldn’t wear a dress near them. They’d tear it off. But… but they’re nice. The ones we raise are, at least. Elsewhere they get hunted by the northern tribes, so they have to be aggressive.”

“Do you like any other northern animals?” Isabella pressed.

“We have reindeer,” Abigail continued. “And muskoxen. Those are both safe to raise. In the far north, the ground starts to turn to ice. That’s where things get dangerous. There are walruses… a walrus is a thick-bodied animal with a flat face that has long tusks. They have brown, wrinkly skin, and flippers instead of arms. They swim through ice water like it’s not cold at all.

“And then there’s snow bears and saber cats. Snow bears are pure white, and they’re far larger than the bears near here. Saber cats are large cats that have long, dagger-like fangs. I don’t particularly like them, because they both kill seals, which are my favorite. Seals… I haven’t told you about them,” Abigail realized, looking at Isabella. She stopped abruptly. “I’m sorry. I’m rambling.”

The story has been illicitly taken; should you find it on Amazon, report the infringement.

“Do you have any artwork for these animals?” Isabella asked, genuinely interested.

Abigail looked over, hesitant to say more. Eventually, she nodded.

“I’d love it if you could bring some next time,” Isabella said. “The north… you must love it very much.” Abigail nodded. “You must miss it very much,” Isabella concluded.

Abigail didn’t say anything, quietly watching the fish in the pond.

“I quite enjoy magic,” Isabella said. “I enjoy watching it, reading about it.. and soon, I hope, practicing it. My father always forbade me from learning it because it’s not a particularly ladylike activity. But… I enjoy it. I’m going to do what I want.”

Abigail looked at Isabella thoughtfully.

“I’ve only told one other person that,” Isabella said. “And if the king found out, he’d likely punish me. So… it’s our secret.”

Abigail nodded seriously. She looked brighter than when they’d begun this conversation, but perhaps that was only Isabella’s projection. Abigail likely felt as suffocated as Isabella did in this place. She was glad that she’d arranged this. But other people would take note, too. There were many watching eyes, especially on her.

Let them watch. Isabella intended on giving them quite the show. Her sleepless nights hadn’t been without merit—she’d realized what needed to be done to crawl out of the pitfall Edgar had dug her into.

I’m going to ruin Duke Albert, Isabella reaffirmed. Before, I merely planned to break him and Edgar apart, and then let him self-destruct on his own as he did in my first life. But ruining him myself is the easiest way to break away from Edgar in the eyes of all. So long as I manage it before he’s assassinated or deposed… I shouldn’t fall alongside him.

And the cudgel she’d use? Archduke Felix. She had no reason to feel guilty, though, because the Archduke would benefit from Duke Albert’s downfall as much as she did. Isabella was certain he wouldn’t enjoy it as much as she would, however.

“Would you like to go horseback riding next time?” Isabella suggested to Abigail. “After the artwork, of course.”

It was hard to tell if Abigail was pleased with the suggestion, but she nodded. “Thank you, Your Highness.”

***

Courtship in Dovhain was a highly traditional, almost ritualized affair. Typically, it was done with the supervision of both parties’ parents, but Isabella’s mother had died not long after she’d been born, and her father had obviously died recently. Perhaps Valerio had parents, but she’d never heard of them. He certainly never mentioned them.

In a case like this, then, they would both be granted high amounts of autonomy. Certain customs needed to be observed legally, but beyond that… they would be free to do as they pleased.

Duke Valerio and Isabella sat having tea in a secluded pavilion in the royal garden. There was a small pond surrounding them with bridges to reach this area. This had always been her favorite spot. People could see, but they couldn’t hear—that was precisely what she wanted.

“How have you been?” Valerio asked. “You look tired. I can tell despite the makeup, even. I’m usually bad at that.”

“I am tired.” Isabella looked to the pond around them. “I had to reconsider a great many things after Faust’s execution.”

Valerio leaned back in his chair. “I’m getting the sense this isn’t the first execution you’ve seen.”

Isabella confirmed that with a nod. “My father was fond of them as well. His were more… purposeful. At the very least, he chose his targets better.” She looked at him, deciding to cut to business. “What have you heard about what happened?”

“I’ve heard quite a few rumors about how horrible I am,” Duke Valerio said. “Apparently I forced myself on you, and the king engaged us to hide the shame. As for execution mess… it’s a maelstrom of chaos. People are factionalizing. The largest faction supports the disinherited Prince Claude, I’m told.”

“I’ve heard the same.” Isabella sipped her tea. “I wanted to codify how our arrangement is going to work. It would make me more comfortable if I could know what it is you want of me, and how this benefits you.”

“The attention is unwanted, but I can turn it to my advantage,” Valerio said. “Your brother is funneling me more money than before for his armada. But I suspect you’re wondering about what I want from you, specifically.”

“Indeed,” Isabella confirmed. “Despite what everyone is murmuring, I don’t have much of a handle over how the king behaves. You saw the way he disregarded me when I suggested a punishment for Faust. My allies, my backing… they’re nonexistent.”

“My choice to follow through was just instinct,” Valerio said, looking at her right in the eye. “I’ll admit, I have someone I trust inside the royal court. They’ve done good work for me, but I feel like you can help me in ways I won’t be able to predict.”

“Instinct,” Isabella repeated. “People usually say that when they’re lying, I’ve found.”

Valerio smiled. “I haven’t been able to figure out how you’d have known about the Republic of Ambrose’s grain woes. There are other incongruities surrounding you, too. That’s more than instinct.”

Isabella regarded him evenly. In this place, allies could turn to enemies overnight. She’d need to keep that in mind.

“Reversing the question, what do you want from me? Beyond a wall between you and Duke Albert, naturally,” Valerio asked.

“I want freedom of movement,” Isabella said. “Everything I do is observed by the royal staff—particularly, the majordomo. He’s a man that can and will be bought, so I can’t trust him to be impartial. I’d like to use your name to exit the palace freely under the pretext of outings for our courtship. There are things I need to attend to in the capital.”

“So… come pick you up once a day, take you out?” Valerio nodded. “That’s no trouble. Do you have a guard you can trust?”

“No,” Isabella said with a shake of her head. “I don’t think I’ll need one.”

“Have you ever walked through the capital alone?” Valerio questioned non-judgmentally.

Isabella hesitated to answer, but eventually said, “No, I haven’t.”

“Considering your newfound fame and striking appearance, I think it’d be unwise to travel alone.” Valerio leaned in. “I could provide one of my best men. He’s a eunuch from a country overseas, and he handles a sword like few have ever seen.”

Isabella stared at him without response.

“…but from the gaze I’m getting, I suspect you think I’d be using him to spy on you.” Valerio tsked and leaned back. “Tell you what. You recently came across one thousand gold. What do you say we go and buy you a sword?”

Isabella frowned. “I can’t fight.”

“No, no.” Valerio shook his head. “A hired sword to watch your back.”

Isabella hesitated. “Men like that are notoriously unreliable.”

“And pirates can’t be reasonable people, Your Highness,” Valerio countered. “Holy paladins have unimpeachable character. They certainly can’t be bought, can’t be corrupted. They certainly wouldn’t heed the words of a tyrant in cutting off the heads of people arbitrarily.”

Isabella took his point silently, waiting for him to continue.

“What do you say that I take you somewhere right now?” Valerio offered, rising to his feet. “I know a place packed to the brim with people that could go toe-to-toe with the holy paladins in this place—and they’re far more honorable.”

Isabella frowned. “That can’t be possible.”

“The world is wider than anyone can imagine,” Valerio said, offering his hand. “Shall we, Your Highness?”

Isabella took his hand and stood up. “Just Isabella,” she said. “At least while we’re out.”

“Of course. Wouldn’t want people to think the silver-haired, burgundy-eyed beauty was a princess by using her title,” Valerio said sarcastically.