Alomina or The Book of Many Journeys Ch. 7

Chapter Seven: The Clouds Rolling In One morning, not too long after, Alomina was dining at the palace, for even though her Aunt had breakfasted at the palace but three days before, the household had been invited again today. Though, through the whole time, Alomina had not gotten a chance to talk alone with Percy. Still their untold secrets lay uneasily in her mind, even though outwardly she may have seemed charmingly at ease. No, she had been thinking about it much, but Percy seemed to have completely forgotten about it. Things were going very oddly indeed. The odd thing about this breakfasting time was that whole time they had been at the palace, he had been absorbed in the company of the oldest princess; Celeise-Anatria de Ellette. What was about? He had met her only a couple times very briefly, if for anything but politics. Somehow, though, Percy seemed far more familiar with her than level of 'Your Highness', and certainly far more than 'Princess Celeise Anatria de-Ellette'. Mina wondered why Percy was suddenly so captivated by the princess now, when he seen her so few times, never alone or for very long, and had never really paid much attention to her. Nor had she ever really heeded him much beyond another courtier. Well, she was paying him heed now. This was probably the longest Percy had ever seen her close-up. Apparently, Aunt Dricynnia was too busy speaking with the queen animatedly to notice Percy's obvious change (not to mention the fact that Cynnia rarely noticed anything of small change anyway). The princess seemed to take his attentions in a would-be casual, and failing-to-be proud and cold manner (even though she paid him more heed than was plain civility). King Edarian seemed to observe the matter attentively, but expressionlessly, as if he had not yet formed an opinion on the matter, though sometimes he had a hint of grimness in his features. Alomina curiously surveyed them. She had never seen Percy act like this before. In fact, usually, (besides her) he paid females little more attention than was mere politeness or jest. So she observed carefully this completely new spectacle. But even though she observed Percy's actions quite carefully, she had absolutely no idea what actions were going on elsewhere concerning the owner of some other, recently often-pondered soft-brown eyes.... * * * * * * The Count stepped through the next dark, ominous, and nearly abandoned hall. He had come to this long-unused ruin the Matrain people had forgotten to converse with an old 'acquaintance' of a sort whom he had met a long time ago. This 'acquaintance' had long employed the Count, and he had wanted to meet with the Count again at a certain ball in the nearby country of Tresinta. Then at that ball, the Count had gone to see the man, and.... No! No, no, no! He must stop thinking of that! He must focus now, he needed to focus on whatever this man wanted him for! Yes, he would focus now. His mind would be completely on whatever the scum wanted. Besides, what that was too hard could possibly be wanted from Lo-- well, actually, knowing that royal, it probably was something 'too hard', or at least something hard enough that he didn't want to get his own greedy hands dirty. Because this and the like situations were the only events in which the Count was summoned. True, he didn't exactly enjoy this man's company, and this was the first time in a couple years he had been summoned, but he still wanted to get whatever the job was this time done and over with. And perhaps, this would be another small job, and so he could get this over and done with in no time. Well, he hoped so at the least... He then reached huge, black doors that were decorated skillfully but with dark bearing. He pushed them open with as much force as was required to open such old and untended doors. The Count had traveled three and a half days to reach this stopping point for the Vellethian man's travels. All the way to a crumbling castle on the bordering edge of Vellethia and Matruna, just so as to see what this man wanted. But the Count knew, whatever it was, it was serious, and it was something he would probably rather not be doing. He walked into the grand but darkly shadowed throne room. There in an enormous black and silver chair, sat the man, waiting at the ready for the Count. He was facing the Count, but his face was in the shadows. The Count half-imagined, though, that he could see the pale glint of those cold, cruel, silvery eyes. "Hello, Count", he spoke in a cruel, almost taunting voice, but of what the Count could see, no smile came to his lips. The Count glared at him loathingly as a returned greeting. "What is it this time, then?", the Count said in a very cold manner. "I need you to finish a little job for me...", he said, menacing tone unchanged. 'Finish' probably means to do it for him, the coward, thought the Count, but he said nothing to convey his dark thoughts. "What?", Count Montefore asked in an even colder (if possible) manner. "As you know, Count, I have a little arrangement with some of the Tresintans...", the royal began, apparently uncaring that the Count had used any cold or threatening tone. "Yes, so what?", Montefore questioned frigidly. "Well, it seems that some of those Tresintans are politically active in the thoughts that I and my country are not trustworthy", he said, his blue-clothed arm for a moment going into the light as he gestured briefly. "These few seem to have some influence recently, and so, they need silently taken off the table" "Of course", the Count replied mechanically. "First of all, we need to take out all the sources of these ideas", he said plainly, but in the same apparently natural mocking tone. "And who would that be?", asked the Count, who quite obviously (well, at least he hoped he made it obvious) cared not a slight for this whole explanation but was listening reluctantly anyways. "A nobleman called de Blyrwen, he seems to have great political influence with the royals" The Count, on hearing the name, though it sounded familiar, but could not place where he had heard it. He merely swept it from his mind so he could focus more completely on his specific instructions, which were sure to come sometime soon. "I will perform what is necessary", the Count said impassively. "Yes, but first I will arrange for a message to warn him that he must retract his disapproval or pay. I will send it anonymously, of course" "And if he refuses?" "If he refuses, which he is most likely to do, he will be sent one last warning, and if he declines again, then he, and those around him will pay" "How would we really know whether he has or has not ceased in those claims?" "You, Count will be spying upon him until the second warning, and then your services may or may not be required" The Count scowled."Is that all, then?" "Yes, that is now all, Count. You know that I do have a very important plan, and need these things taken care of. Presumably once the main stream of these thoughts is eliminated, these feelings will die down. If not, I may have some more work for you soon", he ended with a malicious smile (if one could even call it that). "Now I dismiss you, Count" The Count then left, now with a 'mission' to now complete.