Sorceress of the Second Sphere

4. For the Realm - Loldirr

"It's time," Ethelston exclaimed as he gingerly stood to his feet.

Loldirr knew what was to come, something which she had argued fervently and with passion. Yet, despite her arguments and the frustration she had poured out towards Ethelston and Ithelred, she couldn't deny that, for the realm, their decision which involved her, made perfect sense.

Chrys had warned her of this day, and now she would have to embrace it.

The room descended into silence almost as soon as Ethelston stood to his feet. The respect he had garnered since the nobles and Fæordic had been brought together was nothing short of a miracle, and as he stood, grinning like a Cheshire cat with his exceptionally well-groomed dark beard, Loldirr found her resentment of him quickly subside.

As he spoke, however, the resentment started to return.

"First of all, Hrok Thjodoflsson, Sigurd Halfhand, you are guests here at the behest of the Empress, yet your desire to perform acts of masculinity at the dinner table is nothing short of disrespectful." Ethelston reprimanded.

As all eyes focused on the Duke of Ravenscourt, there was significant uneasiness as the Fæordic grumbled in dissatisfaction.

Ethelston's smile grew wider as he watched their reactions, playing them all like a puppet in his game of charisma "next time you deem it necessary to start an arm wrestle, ensure the rest of us have an opportunity to place a wager on the outcome!"

There was a loud cheer and rambunctious laughter, especially as Sigurd Halfhand felt the desire to slam Hrok squarely on the back.

Once again, Loldirr's resentment subsided. She loved Ethelston like a brother, and his ability to quell the anxiousness of the men in the room was exemplary. She could learn so much from this man, and today her lesson would be sacrificing her desires for the good of the realm. He had done it when he returned to take Ravenscourt from his megalomaniacal uncle, stepping away from a life of freedom and adventure as a mercenary to become the head of western Isovine.

Today it was Loldirr's turn, and as she watched the smiles around the room and the respect that they oozed towards Ethelston, she knew she had to embrace what was to come.

"As we attempt to sit through the snows that embrace the hills of Ravenscourt, we must also plan for the future." Ethelston explained, "the usurper, Arnaud III, will look upon his defeat at our walls as potential disruption across the land. Word has already travelled, and news of Ravenscourt's defiance will cause a ripple across the Empire that he will want to quell quickly. As long as Loldirr lives, his rule is under grave threat."

Loldirr watched as the heads around the room nodded with fervour. While Ethelston's words were spoken with passion, all eyes were focused on her. She desperately wanted to crawl under the table as everyone's attention descended upon her, but as her green eyes flicked to focus on their faces, she could see the pride in all of them.

"Ravenscourt can stand against Lionmane, but it can not stand against Isovine," continued Ethelston, "despite the ferocity and enthusiasm as our welcome allies, the Fæordic."

The nods continued, even from the fearless Fæordic warriors, whose intervention had turned the tide of the battle of Ravenscourt.

"With our armies on the Ruvian border, we must look to establish new alliances that will cement Loldirr's position and threat to the usurper. Isovine, and specifically, Arnaud III, are not short of enemies, foreign and domestic, and once our foreign allies grow and position themselves to end his corrupt reign, our domestic allies will return to the fold and place the crown on our Empress' head."

A huge roar of celebration erupted in the hall as if the gods had thundered in a response of satisfaction to Loldirr's position on the throne.

As Ethelston raised his arms, the noise died down to a whisper once again. "Negotiations have already begun with Isovine's greatest enemy, the Empire of Ruvia, and today, the Empress of Ruvia has sent a renowned knight to conclude negotiations. Send him in."

The tall wooden doors of the great hall of Ravenscourt creaked open, encouraging all within it to swing their heads around to the entrant.

The loud clunk of metal on stone floors could be heard echoing endlessly throughout the halls. As each step thumped forward like a thunderous metronome, everyone eagerly awaited to see the newest noble to be welcomed among them.

"Vicomte Jeffry Thibodeaux, Chevalier de Présage." the announcer called with perfect pronunciation and excellent etiquette.

Loldirr was fascinated by the exotic-sounding nature of the name but was enthralled by the man who entered the halls, especially the illustrious armour that conformed to his muscular frame.

Its darkened tone, with its metallic golden embroidery, embossed skillfully along the edges of the different pieces of armour was a sign of artistry that Loldirr didn't know existed. The decorative armour, much thinner than the armour on the battlefield, still looked sturdy, while the golden embossed winged demon of the Chevalier's moniker flew proudly on his chest piece. Stepping forward, with his helmet in his arms, the ruffled horse hair that peacocked from the top of the helmet completed the walking piece of art.

As the Chevalier de Présage continued forward, Loldirr watched as the man underneath the armour did not share the same artistic flare. His hair was side-swept, long and greying, fighting to stay in uniform with each other, and his severely misshapen nose looked at odds with his well-kept face. As his cold brown eyes looked aimlessly ahead, they had a look of a killer, a man who had easily taken lives in decades of wars.

The Chevalier de Présage, better known as the Knight of Omens, was as daunting as his name suggested. He was one of the Ruvian Empire's most feared warriors, fighting in countless battles and establishing himself as a brutal and extremely aggressive combatant. He was never welcomed as a noble, but as a warrior, very few would be better by your side.

The Chevalier de Présage briskly and fearlessly walked to the head table before stopping just a few feet from Loldirr. Falling to one knee in front of her, he smashed the metallic gauntlet against his chest plate causing a coarse and brutal sound, but the respect behind it was anything but. "My lady, I heard of your beauty, yet I am glad that the tales of such pale in comparison to reality," he said, his words flowing like water, but with little conviction.

Loldirr briefly looked away, embarrassed by the brazen nature of the compliment. She knew the words were hollow, but it still, nonetheless, felt good to hear. As her eyes flitted to Knight Inquisitor Ithelred, his cold eyes watching her every move, she remember that her duty dictated her to respond.

"Vicomte Thibodeaux," Loldirr responded, not sounding anywhere near as eloquent as the announcer, "I am pleased that you managed to make this lengthy journey without incident. I am sure that you will look forward to dining with us and enjoying the best hospitality that Ravenscourt has to offer."

No smile came from the Chevalier, instead, he stood to his feet and proceeded to focus on Ethelston. "A lengthy journey, indeed, yet one I hope will bring the fruit of an alliance between Ruvia and Isovine."

"You speak on behalf of the Empire of Ruvia?" Ethelston asked.

Retrieving a small document from his gauntlet, the Chevalier de Présage raised it so all could see the emblem of the Ruvian monarchy etched into it. "I do," he replied, his voice devoid of emotion, despite how his words appeared flowing and precise.

"And what says the Empress of Ruvia?"

"Her royal highness, the great rose of the empire accepts your request of marriage between her son, Prince Thancred, Grand Duke of Maetis, second son of Empress Emmelina of Ruvia, and Loldirr of House Aex-Igh, empress of the Isovine Empire."