Game of Courts. (#1 Nobles)

A Puppet on Strings-7

"What do you suggest we do?" Northumberland asked, one of the most powerful seats in the kingdom.

"A move. A drastic one. Firstly, we must forestall any marriage alliance with France." she paused and wrinkled her nose. "Although I doubt its possibilities, you must not put any tactic above this French scum. Jonas, how is the trade going through the borders?"

"Great. My queen. Trade has been going great."

"Good. We need it not to go great. The borders have been too quiet of late. Spain and France have been too docile, we need something that would undermine the King's power."

"And you?"

"There have been no issues so far. The imported firearms are smooth, and our business partners are happy." the commander of the king's army, Baxton reported.

The queen threw up her hand in disgust. "That is the damned problem!" she growled. "Everyone is too bloody happy in this kingdom to have an idea of anything bad!"

"May I suggest something to my lady?" the manager of the royal stables gestured meekly, his red cap glittering against the moonlight.

"Go on."

And on, he went.

*+*

It was an ugly morning, Amanda observed, sitting by her window. It looked like it was about to rain, fat, angry grey clouds hung from the sky, hungry to let go of their burden. She had risen earlier to think, it was easier to think when the world was asleep.

But it had to wake up. Eventually. The bustling started slowly, almost lazily before turning into chaos. Servants trudged out of their housings and to different directions of the castle. From her window, she could see those tending carefully to the flowers, watering and pruning. There were no smiles on their faces, perhaps the gloom from the skies affected everyone else. Amanda turned away from the window and drifted towards her table, thumbing the invite the King had sent to her.

A short knock on her door, and the envelope was thrown into a drawer just as François burst into the room with golden brazen glory.

"Can you imagine the coincidence? I arrived with the food, and from what I see, they prepared enough breakfast for two!"

The flow of servants dropped the platter, including a pitcher of wine and water and slowly withdrew.

"Oh God!" Francios moaned, "Not this fucking bread!"

Without knowing, Amanda started to laugh. It started slowly, an amused chuckle to a full blown laughter having her shoulders shake, it made the cloud brighten a bit. Her brother blinked at her oddly.

"Thank you." she said, going over to take his hand. "Thank you for coming with me to England."

"Well, I would say I don't regret it-just this fucking bread! How do they manage to make it harder than before?"

"I think it is an English talent, making a mess of everything."

"Hm." her brother replied, ritually avoiding the bread to pick around the tray. The door to her chambers sang as something heavy hit it.

"What was that?"

"Perhaps a draft?" Francios suggested shrugging, but the uncomfortable feeling in her stomach grew. "Go and see what it is." he groaned again before getting up.

"Francios? Francios? What is the matter?"

"I think," he said slowly, "we have been locked in."

"What? How?"