Crownless Consort-Chapter 30 - : Formerly, the Hunt

He had chosen the Archknight, Kafka, to accompany him. There were two reasons for this. The first was that she was simply the only other Archknight he knew who didn't either show disdain for him, nor addled him in some odd way, like Gwennaude the Giant did. The second was that Kafka herself was of the Lightseeker faction. While Lieger may act predisposed to being genial towards the Lightseeker Nobility in front of the Witch-King, Artemis wished to push his limits, testing him, just as August tested him when they had first met. This was one of the methods he had stolen from his husband. He would use it well.

Artemis licked his lips as he imagined this endeavour. It seemed so very entertaining. He would finally gain a taste of August's trickery, of all his thrills entailed.

Xerandes had been informed of their trip ahead of time, so that he might prepare for it and be ready once morning had arrived. Apart from him, Cercival walked alongside Artemis as they approached the carriage waiting at the front of the Palace. While Kafka and Cercival were sent to the front, Artemis gestured for Xerandes to climb into the carriage with him. He wished to ask the man about his friend of the past, Lieger Sequoia.

Out front, the elderly servant let out a sigh as he sat in his seat. He had wrapped himself with furs, grasping onto the reins.

Cercival glanced over towards Kafka, smiling genially. "You've been chosen by the young Master to accompany him, you must be an exceptional Knight, Ms. Summerstelle!"

The moment they had first convened, Kafka had introduced herself to Cercival, only so that they wouldn't seem strangers along the ride.

Kafka glanced embarrassedly away. "No, I'm pretty positive I hammered in a contradicting point. He shouldn't have any sort of perspective of me that indicates that I am anything other than a burden. I do not think I have been very much of a positive character, either. There is no chance that I have been invited on this visit other than the fact that all others were burdened with other tasks..."

Cercival eyed the young woman suspiciously. This shorter knight incessantly fidgeted with a lock of her dirty-blonde hair, the waves of freckles that ran over her pale cheeks and slender nose lightened in the morning light of the crystals. This woman seemed far too familiar to Cercival, it sent shivers down his bones. His expression gradually relaxed, a pleasant reminiscence ringing through his mind.

Ah, she looks like Ms. Starke, the young Master's late mother... she had been married to my former Lord so long ago, it was hard for me to remember that she was once of the Summerstelle family. I wonder how this young Knight relates to my Lord...

Inside the carriage, Artemis faced Xerandes, who fidgeted with an aged-silver pocket-watch, looking quite bored. So, he took the time to levy a question.

"August mentioned that you and Lord Sequoia were formerly of the same Hunt Designation, that is why he had you accompany me. I wonder if you might apprise me of how that was? I would like to know more the man who heads the Sequoia House..."

Xerandes closed the pocket-watch, slipping it into his interior pocket as he sighed. "Well, there's not much to the man... at least, on the surface. If you're just looking to exchange pleasantries, if this is only a social visit, then there's not much too it. He will act pleasantly, smile and nod his head as usual. He is very good at putting up this front- all of you Noblemen are."

"What if this is not just a social call?" Artemis raised an eyebrow curiously.

"If that is the case, then you would best be wary. He won't have any ill intent, that is not the sort of person he is. But you must remember what family he comes from. This is not Capet, Aurelius, or Oberon. This is Sequoia. They are the leading mercantile family, and you should measure him up as such. He is the head of this House, and as such, he will always be looking for an angle to benefit from. If you want to offer him something, anticipate what price he will reasonably pay, and instead offer a lower number to minimise bargaining. You should never give him an opportunity to reasonably make a counter-offer, he will fool you by all means, this is the mastery of his family. If you instead wish to request something of him, you should anticipate a reasonable offer and instead offer a higher price. He is not below acting slighted as a means of bargaining."

To think that kind man was actually quite cunning... this is the words of his friend, his comrade. It doesn't seem like its a slight or insult, this must just be his common nature to be spoken of so casually... I should be careful in my assessment of this man. I wish to offer my friendship, but even something like this might demand a price if offered to a man like Lieger Sequoia...

Visit ƒree𝑤ebnσvel.com for the 𝑏est n𝘰vel reading experience.

"If you don't mind me asking, your Grace, why exactly do you think his Grace chose you? He surely had many suitors." Xerandes suddenly asked.

Artemis's face paled. I can't tell him that it was likely spurred by the use of Lark...

"What else could it be but love? That, and I had declared myself instrumental to his dream..."

Xerandes chuckled. "No, there must certainly be a greater answer than love. He wouldn't risk everything just for that... this is considered divisive action."

No, even if you do not know to what extent it reaches, 'love' really is the answer, even if that is only his stepping stone to power...

"Why do you ask?"

"What do you mean why, your Grace? Have you not once considered what your allegiance- nothing against it- does in affection to his Grace's relationships? He spent the entire celebration of your wedding speaking with the Runebranded Nobility in an attempt to cauterise the wound he created by choosing you- this isn't a slight, so please don't measure it in that way, I just wish you to realise the true political extent of your marriage."

Artemis sunk back into his seat, his eyes shaking as he leaned his head against his hand. Is this the truth...?

Was it always like this? From the moment he had decided to marry me, was he dealing with such division amongst his government retainers? Even him picking me might have been influenced by Lark's Gambit... have I doomed August to trouble just because I wanted a casual, simple position- an easy life?

Suddenly, it felt like everything had suddenly began to make sense. It made him want to curl up, to shelter himself away from all else, to become a recluse once more. He bit his lip, hard enough that blood began to trickle down his chin.

No, I can't think like this. I told him I was going to help him achieve his goals. If I tarnish my heart with guilt, what will that accomplish? What's done is done, all that we can do is pick up the pieces.

His eyes glossed over, and he became cold, unfeeling. This was his trained extent, his mask of inconspicuous brilliance. He was not a man of guile, not of wit, not of strength- he had none at all. His only means of battle depended on his Spirit, and that wasn't him at all. What man could he be if he relied on his blade to cut, and not the arm that wields it?

So in those years that he had been a recluse, he practiced, in theory, the commanding presence demanded of a Black Wolf. Ahead, through the window of the carriage, he stared at the approaching estate of marble and gold. It was regal, it was Runebranded, it was Sequoia. This was the House of the Runebranded, a group he should by all means be disposed to hatred of, and this was a doom he was willing to face.

I am Artemis yr Starke, and I have been born of a dream, of someone else's dream. If it is the case that my love's wish cannot be fulfilled while he is burdened by me, I will loose him of that burden. I will not subdue myself in favour of pleasantries, I will not allow time to worsen his shackles. There is no greater truth than the promise that I will pacify this hatred of others, or tower over their corpses like the sun over a dark night.

Artemis habitually adjusted the sleeve of his shirt, grimacing, wiping the blood from his chin. He stepped out of the carriage, fixing a cap to his head as he eyed Cercival. His cold gaze washed over the genial servant, turning the man's expression serious in an instant. He immediately understood his Master, understood his deepened conviction. He had known the father, and now the son. He knew that in this, they were identical, identically compulsive to steel themselves in preparation.

Kafka seemed to pick up on this as well, following in graceful yet cautious stride as her gaze flitted over the guards they approached, gaging any potential threat. Xerandes suddenly overtook their stride, pulling a long golden slate out of his interior pocket as he raised it towards the guards who stood at the entrance to the estate. As they saw this, they immediately adjourned their gaze from the group, standing aside as their long polearms were tucked into the soil below.

Artemis raised an eyebrow, but he didn't propound an idea, he simply continued on. A wolf did not hesitate, it was death. The cold would freeze the unmoving, the set trap would close around the sluggish.

They had arrived at the Sequoia estate. While this Family would act genially with him due to their father's friendly correspondences, it was certain that he was to be measured. He would test, and be tested, but he would not fail by any circumstance.

He was the Crownless, the Wolf of Margraves.