Her Rightful Place

70: The Duel

Mireille threads her way swiftly through the crowd of guests at the Midsummer's Eve Ball, making her way towards the delegation from Khandazar. Speed is of the essence; if anyone recognizes her in time to detain her, she will most likely be prevented from doing what she feels she needs to do. Meanwhile, Jerôme has gone to round up reinforcements, and Christelle, Monique, and Neera are also making their way toward the invading Khandazarians. Xavier tries to follow Mireille, for lack of a better option. He has no idea how he can possibly help her; even after the revelations from her the day before, he opted to remain unarmed for the Midsummer's Eve Ball. Other royals are even less useful; the Claiamese Princesses are sobbing in a corner, Queen Généviève and the Syazonian Princess have fainted, and the foreign princes are nowhere to be found. King Christophe tends to his wife and waits, trusting that the plans already in place will make it unnecessary for him to get personally involved, and Queen Bêtel is remarkably quiet and immobile, being stuck between wanting to call for her favorite torture implements and not wanting to jeopardize the alliance with Vyrunia.

"Hand over the Princess Mireille, and no one will be harmed!" the leader of the Khandazarians repeats, much more angrily. "We will not ask a third time!"

"You might find, gentlemen, that threats are most effective when made in a language your audience understands," Neera calls dryly in Khandazarian from somewhere in the crowd.

"Show yourself, insolent wench, whoever you may be! No one shows such disrespect to the Grand Chancellor of Khandazar and lives!" one of the Khandazarian leader's lackeys rages, whirling around in search of the source of the offending remark.

"The Grand Chancellor came himself? I never dreamed he might stoop so low as to be seen in women's clothing—"

"If you do not cease your repugnant speech and present yourself at once for your punishment, you common—"

"Let her alone," Mireille interrupts in Khandazarian, having come to a place where her adversaries can see her. "She is not the one you came so far and risked so much to see."

Since when has she spoken Khandazarian?! Xavier wonders, utterly dumbfounded. What other secrets is she keeping from me?

"Ah, my little jewel. We meet at last," the Grand Chancellor leers.

"You are not welcome here!" Queen Bêtel interrupts furiously, storming towards them. "You have violated the agreement we made, and as such you and all of those you brought with you are mine to prosecute and execute for this violation, in addition to the other breaches of international security agreements that you have executed—"

"Guards." The Grand Chancellor need not say more; his men block Queen Bêtel's progress towards them, and the Mordalcean soldiers move quickly to protect their Queen from these foreign enemies, leaving Mireille and the Grand Chancellor more or less alone in a bare place in the Grand Ballroom, though they are surrounded by other guests who are completely at a loss as to how to handle the situation. Queen Bêtel continues shouting at the Grand Chancellor, but no one is paying her much attention.

"If I agree to go with you, you must promise me that no one here will be harmed," Mireille declares, walking slowly towards the Grand Chancellor. A plan is germinating in her mind, risky but at least plausible.

She cannot possibly be planning to go with him, Xavier worries, frantically wondering how he can possibly intervene and stop this from happening.

"At least for tonight," the Grand Chancellor agrees, "as your wedding gift." She comes just within his reach and he grabs her left wrist with his right hand. In the same moment, Mireille dives under his right arm and, with her free hand, snatches his scimitar from the poorly concealed scabbard on his left hip. In the next moment she has twisted his right arm, though he still holds her wrist, behind his back and is holding his own blade's sharp edge against his throat. The Grand Chancellor is too stunned to struggle. A collective gasp rises from their audience; even Queen Bêtel is stunned into silence.