As Isabella got a grasp of the situation and her course of action, she also weighed her options for removing the unwanted problem of Duke Albert.
The first two of her routes were eliminated rather quickly: assassination. Specifically, assassination of either Duke Albert or King Edgar II. Isabella herself had never ordered an assassination, nor had she ever outright dismissed the idea. She believed that the two might warrant such a fate, frankly, but dirt like that was quite difficult to keep clean of.
Besides, it was a pointless line of questioning: she had no resources or allies.
Making Albertâs interest wither would be impossible. Sheâd tried that. In one of the lowest moments in her past life, she had tried disfiguring herself. The calmness with which Duke Albert had her injuries treated by the best priests had frightened even her, and from there, she truly lost all autonomy. Every waking moment, she was surrounded by Duke Albertâs men, who never spoke a single word to her. Guarded, infantilized, isolated from all, and forbidden from stepping a foot outside her room⦠it had drained all hope from her, day by day.
Isabella shook her head, dispelling the memories. But that hasnât happened to you anymore. It didnât happen. It wonât happen. It was all a nightmare, but youâve woken up. Her logical brain could argue the point well enough, but the arguments did little to dispel the memories, the tightened stomach, or the fear in her chest.
Isabella had considered breaking apart King Edgar II and Albert somehow, but Albert had always been quite adroit at keeping the king placated. Edgar was a great admirer of the arts, and Albert fulfilled that need. Besides, she had no one to call upon for this task. Isabella was largely friendless. She had always been a solitary, lonely girl.
I need a shield, Isabella decided. A ship to sail the stormy sea. No one can survive in tides of change as fierce as these without aid.
To that end, she had isolated several patrons she might be able to call upon.
Isabella sprawled out a map across the desk in her room. It demonstrated the different noble holdings throughout Dovhain. Alongside it, she placed her list of names.
The first two have no holdings, she reflected.
Arthur of Hamore, the Archwizardâs heir. Edgar would undoubtedly assent to match between them, but⦠Arthur had never married. Heâd publicly expressed his intent to remain unwed years ago, and had stayed with that commitment all of her prior life. She couldnât think of anything to sway him from that. His abstinence had made Isabella more comfortable around him as queen.
The second landless figure was the illegitimate son of the archbishop, Cesare. It was a far more dubious choice. Cesare would found a grand mercenary company, but that was later in his life. The archbishop, Pius, desired a politically advantageous match for his son. Heâd probably assent to the marriage, but King Edgar never would.
Neither are worth the time to pursue, Isabella decided. But I should try to cultivate a friendly relationship with Arthur.
Isabella peered at the remaining names. There were more than she thought, frankly, but few of them were trustworthy⦠and even fewer would see any value in a marriage with her, a princess with a mother of no renown.
She set her fist down. âSpeculation is uselessâ¦â she muttered.
Isabella had assessed the situation. But the more time that she spent in planning, the more chance there was for opportunities to slip out of her grasp. Time had taught her that staying cooped up in her room writing letters would only get her so far.
Isabella pulled the sash to summon her attendant. Not too long after, Alice entered.
âHow can I help, Your Highness?â said the girl brightly.
âI need to speak to the king,â she said decisively.
Aliceâs smiled wavered somewhat, but she nodded.
***
âYou want to attend,â Edgar repeated what Isabella had said. Servants diligently trimmed and filed his nails. âWhat business could you possibly have at the ambassadorial reception? Is this about your engagement?â He studied her. âI fail to see how it could be. The arriving guests hail from a merchant republic.â
Isabella chose her words carefully so as not to trigger his paranoia. âYes, Your Majesty. And their patricians are forbidden by law from marrying outside the republic.â
âAre they? Hmm.â Edgar pulled his hand away, studying his nails before he devoted his full attention to Isabella. âSo? Explain yourself. Seeking outside allies, perhaps? Hoping to be spirited away by some brutish republican?â he pressed tauntingly. âIf youâre going to ask for a chance to prove your worth, donât bother. Iâve given you one. Finish the meal in front of you before you ask for seconds.â
âI received a very fine education in managing an estate,â Isabella said. âI know the art of stewardship and diplomacy well. Iâm confident that I can secure better trade deals in the ambassadorial reception than the kingdom currently enjoys.â
Edgar laughed, waving away the servants thatâd been tending to his nails. They skulked away eagerly, and he devoted his full attention to her. âAre you honestly trying to say that you know better than my attendant diplomats?â
âYes, Your Majesty.â Isabella nodded.
Edgarâs amusement faded from his face, and he walked very close to her. He retrieved his sheathed sword which had been leaning up against the wall, and traced its pommel, handle, and hilt with his finger. His eyes stared into hers, and she did her best to stand proud without giving the impression she was challenging him.
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âWhy?â he finally asked.
âThose in attendance wish to maintain the status quo that our father established.â Isabella explained. âBut many of those deals were made years ago. Now, the royal court is at the apex of its power.â
King Edgar inhaled, and though he tried to conceal his expression, Isabella could tell that he liked her words.
âAnd why should I not simply pass that directive on to those who are already attending?â
âBecause they have no interest in further strengthening the crownâs position,â Isabella said. âWhereas all that I have is tied only to the Dovhain name.â
âYouâre a woman,â Edgar pointed out, stepping away as he tied his sword to his belt. âThe envoys would view your attendance as an insult.â
âWomen arenât barred from public offices in the Republic of Ambrose,â Isabella said, prompting a disbelieving stare from Edgar. âTheyâve even once had a Serene Dogaressa instead of a Serene Doge.â
Edgarâs stare finally broke into a smile. âYou seem to be growing up. Itâs good of you to step up for me. Overdue, even.â
âThank you, Your Majesty,â Isabella lowered her head.
He stepped about, thinking, then looked at her decisively. âHow confident are you of succeeding?â
âAt maintaining what we have? One hundred percent. At gaining more? Ninety percent.â
Edgar looked to his bodyguard. âShe broke it down into percentages. Isnât that quaint? Would that every one of the imbeciles around me could do such a thing.â He looked back at her, then said decisively, âVery well, sister. Youâll be the primary ambassador for the reception.â
Isabellaâs hands clenched involuntarily. âPrimary ambassador, Your Majesty? But Count Faustâ"
âItâs a temporary appointment, mind. I donât trust Count Faust,â Edgar interrupted. âWorked for our father for twenty years, did nothing but good service. He needs to know that he can be replaced. He needs to work harder. In case he has anything planned, he needs to know that the crown is always watching.â
Isabella swallowed her thoughts: Generally, if you have a loyal servant⦠you reward them, no? You make sure theyâre going to stay loyal. But heâs punishing loyalty?
âI canât speak the Ambrosian language as well as Count Faust can,â Isabella said cautiously, honestly not wishing for the appointment.
Edgar held his arms out. âWell, make do! Do I need to spell out every little detail?â
This will make me some enemies, Isabella thought. I just wanted to attend, and now Iâm angering the primary ambassador of the kingdom, and his allies that benefit from his appointment.
The role came with its downsides, but all told, it would offer opportunities in equal measure if she handled it properly. Some would come to think that she had the kingâs favor. Pivotally, it would give her an excuse to talk to several of the prominent nobles in attendance, each of whom had an interest in the relations with the Republic of Ambrose. Three of the people she might get engaged to in way of Duke Albert would be in attendance.
âI will ensure my conduct is unimpeachable,â she promised.
âSpare me the promises. Just do it right,â King Edgar said. âIâll have a reward prepared for you if it does. What do you want? Art, a horse, some new dresses? Jewelry?â Before she could answer, he shook his head and walked for the door. âI canât be bothered. Iâll give you some coin if you do well. Just buy what you want.â
Isabella smiled. That was precisely what she wouldâve asked for.
***
On her way back to her quarters, Isabella veered from her path and went to the furthest wing of the palace. The royal palace was built on a hill overlooking the capital. There was one tower in particular which bridged off a great distance, suspended in the air above the city. It was the residence of the Archwizard and his students.
âYour Highnessâ¦â Alice said nervously. âAre you sure we should be here?â
The path to the Archwizardâs residence was a large bridge on which gargoyles looking inward had been placed on every inch. They seemed like a demonic guard of honor that might welcome a returning king. There were no knights or guards anywhere, but the place seemed more dangerous than any other wing of the palace.
âWeâre fine,â Isabella promised.
Isabella walked to one of the gargoyles that was slightly off-center and pushed in its nose. A light came on in its eyes.
âInform Arthur of Hamore that Princess Isabella is looking for him,â she spoke toward the gargoyle.
A few moments later, the light in its eyes dimmed. Isabella stepped away calmly. Alice looked all around at the gargoyles ahead while Isabella watched the door leading into the tower. In time, it opened. Arthur, dressed as properly as ever, crossed the bridge with his typical mask of propriety on his face.
âYour Highness shouldnât be aware of the messenger gargoyle,â Arthur said in way of greeting. âOnly the king and those within the Archwizardâs residence should know.â
âIs knowledge a crime?â she asked in turn.
âNo, butâ¦â he sighed, then adjusted his glasses. âSomeone may think I told Her Highness of it.â
âBut you didnât,â she responded.
Arthur looked around, then back at her. âI havenât found anything like the condition Your Highness told me of, but Iâm still looking.â
Isabella shook her head. âThis is another matter. Would you like to attend the ambassadorial reception tomorrow?â
Arthur narrowed his eyes. âWhy does that matter?â
âIâve been appointed the primary ambassador,â Isabella said. âAnd I can help you attend.â
Both Alice and Arthur, who were hearing this news for the first time, looked at Isabella in a mixture of disbelief and caution.
âMeaning no disrespect toward you⦠I find it difficult to believe King Edgar would appoint a woman to that role,â Arthur said.
âIt was his spontaneous decision,â Isabella explained wearily. âHe gave me the title temporarily when I expressed my desire to attend to buoy the crownâs position.â
âHmm.â He nodded, crossing his arms. âEven if youâre lying, thereâs no harm in indulging you. Whatâs your offer?â
Isabella looked at Alice without a word, indicating she wished to speak to him alone. Her attendant dipped her head and backed away, taking the signal well. She liked Alice, but liking and trusting were separate matters. When Alice was sufficiently far away, Isabella looked back.
âIâll help you secure a supply of magic materials that can only be found in the Republic of Ambrose,â she said, making him raise a brow. âIn return, youâll help me form a mana lock so I can begin practicing magic.â