"I'm sorry for your loss, Ms. Cahill," said King Uther Pendragon. "Your husband was an excellent leader, an asset to this Kingdom, and above all—a fine man."
"Thank you, Your Majesty."
There are times when overcast skies create an enthralling atmosphere, times when the gentle rain invites warmth, coziness, and comfort. Times when loved ones gather close around a fire, thankful to the rain and the clouds for creating an environment of love, peace, and joy.
There are also times when the same skies and the same rain do nothing but exaggerate loss.
Needless to say, the funeral of Duke Henry Cahill was definitely one of the latter.
Nearly every member of the Blessed Houses was in attendance, save for the House of Blackstone and, unexpectedly, the House of di Cadenza—Jessamine had yet to show.
The 'official' story distributed to the media and the majority of students at the Academy was that the Duke had been killed in action whilst accompanying the military on a top-secret mission. Details on the supposed mission were left purposefully vague to invite speculation from conspiracy theorists and anti-Monarchy rebels, which would distract the public and make it easier to conceal the truth.
The full truth, of course, was known only to the Executive Board of the Societie Royale. The Academy's administration had received a story similar to what Elisabeth had recommended, which they then passed on to the government.
When pressed by her mother for confirmation, Jessamine had said nothing to compromise the narrative.
The planning and execution of the cover story had been jointly assigned to MI5 and MI7 on order of the King, who now stood before Henry's widow in the cold, lonely rain, offering the only condolences he could.
Such condolences would never be enough. Of that, he was well aware.
As the King stepped back into the crowd of funeral guests, he noticed a young, scrawny man step to his side with considerable nonchalance; but the King knew better than to believe his eyes, especially when it came to the man beside him.
"Richard."
"Uther."
"I almost didn't recognize you."
"Don't flatter me, my King. I know you've been watching me since I arrived."
"Likewise, Blackstone. I've never been your King, and you've never been my subject."
"In name, at least."
"In name only."
"Fair enough."
"So," sighed Uther, "is this your doing?"
"I beg your pardon?"
The King cast a sideways glance at the false form of Richard Blackstone.
"It's just a coincidence, then, that he's killed by foreign agents at the Academy who arrived alongside your secret daughter?"
"If we're talking about hidden families, I think you take the crown, Uther," Blackstone replied with a smirk. "And, as far as I know, it's a coincidence. Elisabeth told me the same story that you heard from the Academy."
Uther narrowed his eyes, focusing all his efforts in an attempt to read Richard's expression.
"Is that so?"
I need to know if he's telling the truth.
No, it's an illusory form. He's probably controlling every aspect of his appearance and won't give away any helpful information whatsoever.
"You don't believe me?"
The King raised a sarcastic eyebrow in response.
"Alright, alright, mea culpa. But I'm telling you the truth. Our House would not ally itself with scum who can't even infiltrate an organization properly. If anything, we'd hypothetically be looking to put them in their place."
Though the words were spoken in a light tone, Uther Pendragon could sense a gravitas which belied Richard Blackstone's true intent.
"Our intelligence forces will be able to accomplish that on their own, but I appreciate your offer of assistance."
Though MI5 pales in comparison to their underground network…
…but we have justice and righteousness on our side.
"Oh, I wasn't offering anything," said Richard with a devious grin. "I was merely theorizing as to what a man in my position might be planning."
"I still don't trust you," the King replied, unshaken.
"Nor should you, but you can trust one thing: our House enjoys the position we have within this Kingdom. We seek to protect you and your rule, if only so that we do not become entwined in the messy business of politics ourselves."
"You like using me as a front, huh? Bastard."
"Guilty as charged," Blackstone admitted. "Though maybe I shouldn't phrase it like that."
"Don't taunt me with the dream of a prosecution that will never be attempted."
"Do you really hate me that much, Uther, my friend?"
The King turned to face Richard, his fury-ridden brows betraying his answer.
"You, your family, and everything you stand for. And don't call me friend. You have not earned that privilege."
"Uther, my friend—"
"What did I just—?!"
"—is that how you treat the man who's saving your life?"
The King paused, which was the only permission Richard needed to continue.
"Well, no, I wouldn't want to bore you with the details. But, suffice to say…"
Richard's voice dropped to a lower volume and a more gravelly tone.
"…you should take care tomorrow."
Suddenly, before the King could even raise a syllable of a question, the illusion of Richard Blackstone was gone.
Was he ever really here?
Still, if he's concerned for my safety, it means there's a credible threat.
He's shown that much in the past… he's the one who recommended my Maldives holiday be postponed and additional troops be stationed there with discretion.
I may not be able to trust him as a person, but I can trust his information.
But what lies at the intersection of my trust and distrust?
…I guess there's only one way to find out.
Better to be safe than sorry, after all.
The King turned to one of his aides standing a few meters behind him.
"Ms. Westmarche, please contact MI5 and request additional security for tomorrow's event."
"Right away, sir."
***
"Ah, Pierre, you're here. Excellent."
"We've been expecting you, Ms. Blackstone. Please, right this way…"
Throughout her twenty-odd years on this earth, Elisabeth had found a constant joy in seeing how people would bend and buckle whenever she applied the slightest pressure. Pierre DuPont had been a particularly delectable specimen, and as she inspected the new individual standing before her, Elisabeth theorized that this man might be similar.
"Ms. Blackstone, pleasure to meet you," the man said, approaching Elisabeth with a hand extended towards her. "The name's John Burton, VP of Public Relations at S2 Holdings. I have to say, we were shocked when Mr. DuPont relayed your offer to us, but we know your family has no love for the Crown. We hope this can be the beginning of a very profitable relationship for both of our organizations."
Elisabeth accepted his handshake with polite skepticism.
"Public relations, huh? I guess that's one way of putting it…"
Her host let out a hearty chuckle.
This guy can't be real. He's almost like a caricature of a human being.
He must not want me to see the 'real' version of himself.
"Well, 'Vice President of Insurgency and Forced Regime Collapse' wouldn't fit on a business card."
Elisabeth smiled.
She and Pierre were in London at the offices of S2 Magus Technology Holdings, Inc. in order to meet with Pierre's superiors prior to the execution of their scheme. Ostensibly, this meeting was being held in order to coordinate their roles in the upcoming operation, though Elisabeth of course had her own agenda.
The group proceeded to a nearby elevator while continuing to make polite conversation, a social nicety which ceased as soon as the elevator doors slid shut.
"You've received our reinforcements, then?"
"Indeed, Ms. Blackstone. They've been preparing for the past few days alongside our own men. I must say, they're quite well-trained for a group of freedom fighters."
"They're operatives of the Blackstone family," replied Elisabeth. "Of course they're well-trained. You would do good to remember that next time you take action in this kingdom without our approval."
"Once again, we offer our most sincere apologies, Ms. Blackstone."
"Hmph."
Elisabeth discreetly studied her host's demeanor; though he was capitulating, she could tell that he was harboring an intense rage towards her.
Who doesn't?
"You know, you made it more difficult for the mission to succeed by drawing attention to the Academy…"
"What, the thing with the Cahills?"
"It has the Royal Family investigating campus security…"
"It won't be a problem," stated Elisabeth with confidence. "He'll be in our clutches long before he reaches Camelot. Besides, Cahill's death served to further the Blackstone ambition. A small increase in difficulty for your operation is a justified cost."
"Just what is the Blackstone ambition, may I ask?"
"You may not."
"It aligns with our organization's goal, though, correct?"
Elisabeth paused for a moment as she considered how to phrase her response.
"At the moment, the Blackstone family is willing to cooperate with organizations which wish to destabilize the House of Pendragon and Britannia's ruling class. However, the House of Blackstone has claimed sovereignty over this Kingdom, and reserves the right to take sovereign action as we see fit."
John Burton's eyes widened in shock.
"Sovereignty? Surely you can't mean—"
"I do."
"You're claiming Britannia as your own kingdom?" asked Pierre with a quivering voice. "H-how can that be?!"
Elisabeth glanced sideways at the coward standing beside her, unamused.
"We are the House of Blackstone, Mr. DuPont. We are the only true authority in this country, and take my word for it: in one year's time, the House of Pendragon will have yielded the throne of Britannia to the House of Blackstone."
John Burton's mind was racing.
This girl—no, this woman—will be Queen? Or will Richard Blackstone be King?
Why are they acting now?
This isn't good. We've put so much effort into infiltrating Britannia in order to engineer its destruction. If the Blackstones take over, all of that work will have been for nothing.
Still…
…if this operation goes as planned, we may yet have an advantage over the House of Blackstone.
I can't arouse any suspicions in the Blackstone heir.
Play along.
Play it safe.
And when the time is right—strike at her heart.
"Ms. Blackstone, my organization is willing to support you in your endeavor," he said at last. "I should hope you won't forget us once you assume the throne."
Her response will give us vital information.
Elisabeth smiled, the first time doing so since entering the elevator.
"Well, then, Mr. Burton, I believe I should meet with your board of officers. We have some major plans which are about to be executed, and it's important for all of our affiliates to be on the same page."
With an electronic ding!, the elevator doors slid open.
Elisabeth stepped out and glanced behind her.
"Shall we get to it, gentlemen?"
***
Caspian would have been surprised to find Jessamine di Cadenza waiting outside his dormitory this late in the evening if his ravens hadn't already alerted him to her presence.
She's gotten better at controlling her aura, though, he thought. I'd have never looked twice at her if I didn't know she was there.
His fellow graduate student was seated alone on a bench some distance away from the main entrance, likely to avoid unwanted interactions with first-year students, yet she was still close enough for her intention to be clear.
She's waiting for me.
I guess I should oblige…
Jessamine barely reacted at all when he sat down next to her. Caspian thought he heard her breath quickening for a minute, but the change was nigh-imperceptible and didn't last long enough for him to be sure of his observation.
"Hey, Jess. Fancy meeting you here."
They hadn't spoken since their duel, but Caspian was nonetheless aware of what Jessamine had experienced the previous week.
Jessamine looked up, but not at Caspian: her eyes wandered over the darkness, aimlessly, it seemed, though Caspian could detect a subtle intention at play.
"There's a raven on the roof of that shop to our left," she said, her voice passive and emotionless.
Caspian made a show of looking for the bird.
"So?"
"So?" repeated Jessamine, a slight indignance creeping into her voice. "So, you're telling me you haven't noticed them?"
"Calm down, Jess," he replied. "That's not what I meant."
She glanced suspiciously at the dark watcher.
"Can we go somewhere private? I'd like to talk to you."
"Of course," Caspian replied, standing and walking to his dorm's entrance. "Is my room okay with you?"
Jessamine nodded.
As the elevator doors closed behind them, Jessamine suddenly reached out and pushed the emergency stop button, locking the elevator in place and preventing anyone from entering.
"Sorry, Caspian, but I have to talk to you where those ravens can't listen in. I need your help."
Caspian's brow furrowed as he attempted to appear thoughtful and prudent.
"Does this have to do with Mr. Cahill's demise?"
Jessamine nodded solemnly.
"I don't know what you've heard, but the one who orchestrated his death was Elisabeth Blackstone. She's strong. I've been mulling it over these past few days—the only thing that makes sense is that she has absurdly strong synchronicity. It's as if she can turn any thought into a Master-level spell."
"I can see where that would cause trouble," said Caspian, "but why are you asking me for help?"
"You're a lot stronger than you pretend to be. I don't know if you're stronger than her, but even if you aren't, you're still an unknown. Something she hasn't accounted for. A joker in the deck."
Caspian nodded attentively.
"You have a plan, then?"
"Not yet," she admitted. "My mind has been scattered. I need to gain your allegiance first."
Caspian narrowed his eyes.
"You're asking me to oppose one of the most powerful families in the nation, Ms. di Cadenza. What's in it for me? Why should I give you my allegiance?"
Jessamine's expression changed to one Caspian hadn't seen before as she moved closer to him, placing a hand on his upper arm and bringing their faces in parallel.
She was close enough to feel her body's warmth radiating outwards.
"You're a man, right?" she whispered, the words landing powerfully in his ear. "I'll give you the one thing men have always fought wars over."
The elevator doors opened.
Jessamine smoothly detached herself from Caspian and sauntered into the hall, her movements displaying a form of gracefulness which had been absent merely minutes ago.
In the hallway, she turned to look back at the man in the elevator while deliberately exaggerating her hip movements to the slightest degree.
"Coming?"
Caspian grinned.
It was the excited smile of a wolf, but Jessamine didn't care.