Two boys walked up the grand stairs and past the ceremonial halls to the Western Towers. Here housed the apartments of the greatest Lords and Ladies of Dycathion. The royal family was just a stone's throw away from here.
"So what do you know about Lord Killian." Cybelline asked as she walked beside the much taller Patrick. The tray she carried would have been heavy for a normal page of her size but she handled it easily.
He raised his eyebrows, "Where did you live, under a rock?"
Cybelline looked offended as they rounded the corner, "It was a great rock."
She balanced the tray carefully as they stepped on the the sprawling spiral staircase, "I take it that Lord Killian is pretty famous?"
"Is the sky blue?" Patrick retorted, his eyes bright "He's a legend. Was practically raised on a battlefield."
Cybelline lowered her eyes, "Do you know him personally?"
"Ermm..." Patrick said lightly. Cybelline looked at him, but chose not to say anything.
They entered the largest apartment in the wing, the large, iron wrought doors opened to a large and spacious space. A few soldiers stood in attendance, they glared at them but let them through. Cybelline frowned, this was not the normal expression of watchful disdain that pages were usually faced with. She looked at Patrick, who coughed and led the way.
Inside the sunny room, white marble and granite carved with vines encircled the large space that seemed to hold half an army. The moment they appeared, silence fell in the silent room. They stared, eyes wide at the two.
Cybelline stood beside Patrick, her eyes narrowing slightly. Some of the men were reaching for their weapons.
Cybelline glanced at Patrick, who was now studying the plain ceiling as if it was encased in gold and diamonds.
A few young knights looked up, and upon seeing Patrick, glared in disbelief.
Unlike the lily white skin Cybelline had seen on the noble youths in the palace, these men, young and old looked battle hardened. Their armor had the dull sheen of metal that had been forged in conflict.
One of them, the youngest, stood up. Tall and imposing, the six foot youth with the the golden curls looked down...well, down only at the short Cybelline but then quickly met the eyes of the youth besides her.
"Lionsbane, I've been waiting to get my hands on you." His voice rang in the hall, a smile played on his lips.
Patrick grinned as well, "Did you miss me, Timorin? I always knew you were the sentimental kind." The young knight's hand twitched to his sword.
"Jacen, don't. He's as sly as his father." Another knight dragged the angry knight down. Patrick nodded to the other knight, "Lord Harris, long time no see." This other knight had bright red hair and dark blue eyes, there was an air of seriousness that his friend Jacen of Timorin lacked. Harris nodded, "Lord Patrick of Lionsbane."You've got nerve to show up here."
Patrick shrugged, "Your general needs his court clothes." He held up a parcel, "Unless you want him to show up to the ball naked? Bet the ladies would love that."
Jacen shot up again at Patrick, "You dare---" The faces on the rest of the knights were just as ugly. Their general was well loved by the court and the entire country. His fame and honor was inscrutable and untouchable. They all revered him as their leader, but it seemed like the more the world loved their general, the more Lionsbane seemed to go against him. The young lionsbane was as bad as their father.
"You need to be taught a lesson, Lionsbane." Jacen cracked his knuckles, "And I thought I was going to be bored, coming back to the palace."
Patrick shrugged, "You're not that bright, Jacen. I'm sure it takes very little to amuse you and your friends" The rest of the young knights stood up, they all looked like they were trying to calculate how many punches they could get away with landing on a young noble.
Cybelline backed up a step. They didn't need any other target if they have Patrick.
Jacen saw Cybelline's movements and sneered, "Just like court nobles, when there's trouble, they're the first to run."
Cybelline looked incredulous, "Hey, Hey. I have nothing to do with this. Feel free to just focus on him." She looked Patrick up and down, "Just a little bit of advice for you all, I wouldn't aim for the face."
They all looked at the young boy with confusion. Weren't they suppose to stick together, like all the court nobles and go against them?
Patrick looked like he didn't know if he should laugh or cry, "I mean, Cy. You could offer to help me a little."
Cyblline looked him confused, "But you dug yourself into this hole. Then you set it on fire." She stood to the side, "There's a crowd of them, and I have a tray of food. "
On Patrick face it seemed to say, but what does that matter?
Pfffff. One of the soldiers in the room couldn't hold in his laughter. Compared to the high and mighty nobles in the palace, this young lordling was much more interesting.
"What's going on here?" A cool voice demanded. A man in his early thirties walked into the great chamber. The knights turned and straightened themselves in a sudden, singular movement, their hands behind their backs, their bodies turned to the man.
The man's blue eyes swept through the room and zeroed in on the strangers. He sighed, "Patrick Lionsbane, if you wanted to die a stupid, meaningless death, then I suggest you throw yourself off the tower. That would be less painful then at the hands of my knights."
Patrick shrugged, "My apologies Lord Evan, The master of protocol sent me to my death, next time you should let him know." The older man frowned and decided to ignore the young trouble maker, he looked at the young page standing off to the side, "Hand over the things and go."
Cybelline came over and gave quick half bow, "My lord, I've been assigned to Lord Killian for the ball."
"Are you the page Restan?"
Cybelline shook her head, "No sir. I'm his replacement." Lord Evan studied the youth, he was a scrawny stick of a boy. Lord Evan's frown deepened, they had sent this stick of a child to act as courier to his lord? It was an insult.
"You're not needed. Leave the tray here." Cybelline nodded and was about to put down the tray when Patrick spoke up, "Lord Evan, surely you know that's not a good idea."
Lord Evan scowled, "You're not nearly old enough to question my order, Lionsbane. Your father doesn't control the army.."
"The queen insists that Lord Killian has a page with him. It's protocol." Patrick looked at knights, "Wasn't last time a lesson enough for you all? The queen will use this against you, and you know it."
Lord Evan looked at the stick of a boy with large grey eyes, with a sigh he beckoned at the boy, "Go inside. Don't speak unless spoken to. You're invisible tonight. If I catch even a toe out of line..." The threat was clear.
Cybelline ducked her head shyly and walked into the other room with her silver tray.
Patrick wanted to follow but Lord Evan grabbed him by the back collar. "I think we should chat." There was a gleam in Lord Evan's eye that Patrick did not like.
She stood in a bedroom that was bigger than than the Ithos and Mirai's cottage. White marble shone against the grand fireplace, the long table was made of black obsidian and iron. On it was strewn with various documents and maps. A bed of red damask and gold brocade that looked fit for a king was off to the side. Beside it, was a simple pallet, much like the bedroll that Ithos and she used in the forest.
A man stood in the middle of the room, his robe ajar to reveal a broad chest and well-defined muscles that would have made Michelangelo beg to have the man as a model. Tall and muscular, the black robes hung to him as he turned around, his black pants covering his long legs. Eyes of green only found in the hidden hearts of the purest emeralds set on a face that was both imposing and stunning, greener than the depths of the forest, greener than the ---
The man raised an eyebrow, "Who are you." His voice held the last vestiges of youth as well as the promise of the powerful man he would become in a few years. There was an aura of unmistakable power around him, he seemed to be the center of everything. Cybelline felt the magnetic power roll of of him, it was the power of someone who could not be questioned, only followed.
"Your page. My lord." She said, breaking off the eye contact, her voice was cool and clear. The man's eyebrows raised slightly. Very, very few could be so cool and collected after looking into his eyes. In some cases, people have fainted or stammered incomprehensibly. He had yet to find anyone who could hold his gaze.
Cybelline quickly strode to the black table and placed the tray down. She bowed, "My name is Cyrus, the Master of Protocol sent me with your meal." She looked deep into his eyes.
In her eyes was the storm, grey like the raging midwinter blizzards and as sharp as lightening. In her eyes galaxies warred and celestials battled. There was a smile on her lips. He wasn't the only one who could stun with a glance.
But as quickly as she had stared into his eyes, she had broken off the contest of wills. He frowned, this was not the eyes of child, not the eyes of someone with a weak will.
Curse this man, she thought to herself, with just a glance, she had revealed too much already.
Lord Killian's looked her over, "Who are you?" His question was even colder than last time, "I don't remember you."
"I just arrived today." Cybelline retorted, "My father's a lesser noble in the lowlands." The general said nothing but studied the youth in front him. The little page was a head shorter, slender build and a small, almond shaped face. Delicate was a word he would use on this little stick of a boy. He shook his head, perhaps he was mistaken about glance he had seen on the boy. After all, it looked like a breeze could blow this child over, what harm could he possibly cause.
"Oh?" The general looked at Cybelline with a frown, "Which lord. What house?"
Damn it, he's already suspecting her.
She bowed her head, "My father is Lord Ronald of house McDonald."
Alright so she was probably going to run into some copy right issue, but the lesser nobility was by the thousands, if he really wanted to look for her, he'll have to find a scribe who wasn't busy on a day like this.
"Lord Ronald?" What the hellfire was House Mcdonald? But Cybelline had been correct, this was a lord who spend more time outside of the kingdom than in it.
Cybelline cleared her throat, " Yes. My lord, the food is getting cold." She knew he was looking for the truth behind her words, but she wasn't just anyone. She was one of the best spies in the world in her formal life, it would take more to break her. She gave him a bright smile with a slightly vacant expression, "Doesn't my Lord want some food before the banquet?"
Lord Killian didn't trust the boy, but young page had answered him without even stammering. He grunted, he'll find out after the banquet. The general sat down in front of the tray.
"Aren't you cold?" Cybelline asked as she saw that he had yet to pull the robe around his well defined abs.
"Does it offend you?" He expected this young little page to mutter something about court manners.
Her eyes swept over him in a way that gave him goosebumps, and not the good kind. He glared at her, "Look away, young page." He tied his robe tight, and scowled.
He waited as she began to take the food off the tray. Cybelline placed the plate of delicate water fowl, bowls of wild boar and other game in front of him.
Then she reached for the goblet of wine. Here, there was a slightly hesitation. And then, as if by accident, the wine slipped out of her hand.
The goblet would have clattered to the floor had Lord Killian not leaned forward to catch it easily before it could hit the ground. Cybelline bowed hurriedly, "My lord, I'm sorry." Lord Killian looked down at the boy for a long moment.
After some time, he grabbed a bag of coins from the table and threw her a few, "Go play elsewhere." Cybelline nodded. This man was dangerous, she could find a much easier way to get into the banquet. Though, she sighed inwardly, he was high enough so that he had front row seats to the dais, and that's where she needed to be.
But he was dangerous, too perceptive, and too powerful. She felt that she needed to be as far away from him as possible. She turned to go, there was a trace of relief of her face. A slight change that did not escape the eyes of the man sitting at the obsidian table.
But before she could make her escape there was a knock at the door and two people entered. Lord Evan who had a harassed look on his face and Patrick, who had a little grin on his. Lord Killian frowned, "Why are you here."
Patrick held up a parcel, "Came to deliver this." He placed the clothes on the table and looked at Cybelline, "Ready to go?" He knew that the general would never let a palace page accompany him, even if Lord Evans agreed.
Patrick bowed quickly and irreverently, in a way that made Lord Evant frown, to Lord Killian. He clapped an arm around Cybelline, "Let's go see if the Master of Protocol has anything else for us to do."
"Wait." Lord Killian's voice rang behind them.
Taking the goblet of wine, the one that Cybelline had almost dropped, he waved it at Patrick, "Take this." Cybelline's lips tightened.
With puzzled look Patrick asked, "Does the wine displease my lord?"
"I don't like drinking poison."
Cybelline sighed inwardly, she had looked at the red liquid and found around the edge, a slight trace of white powder. It had been a professional habit of hers. She had already seen it, and knowing that it was probably not vitamins, she had wanted to get ride of it. After all, a dead general would probably disrupt her plans even more.
"Poison!" there was a gasp at the door to the room. Lord Evan, his face dark with rage turned to Patrick.
Patrick put his hands up quickly, "Wasn't me."
But Lord Evan had already grabbed the tall boy by the collar, "What does this mean, Lionsbane? You better explain yourself."
Lord Killian stood up, the room went silent, "Lord Evans, it's not Lionsbane. His father may hate me, but they are an honorable family. Someone is setting him up."
"But who?" Lord Evans asked, there was a hint of anguish in his voice "Why does this keep happening?"
Lord Killian's long fingers drummed on the table, sudden he looked at Cybelline, "I've changed my mind. You will accompany me to the banquet tonight."
.