Chapter Three Hundred and Five - Alea Iacta Quest

Instead of heading to the palace in the carriage we had ridden over from the inn, Caprica insisted that we use her carriage.

It was probably for the best. The big royal seal on the side meant that we didn’t have to wait around in traffic quite as much.

Amaryllis, Awen and I crammed ourselves in on one side, while Caprica sat next to Bastion across from us.

“So,” I said to break the ice. “How did you get roped into all of this?” I asked Bastion.

The paladin raised one eyebrow, then glanced subtly to the side. “In times of heightened alert, it’s normal that all members of the royal family be escorted by a greater number of paladins. There should be two more stationed with this carriage. One next to the driver and one flying above. Having a third within the carriage itself only makes sense.”

“Yeah, but there’s a bunch of paladins around,” I said. “I’m happy that you’re the one with us though.”

“Yes. I’m certain it’s all entirely a coincidence,” Bastion said. His tone was as even and serious as always, but I couldn’t have but feel like there was a hint of something else there.

“Indeed,” Caprica said dismissively. “Now, let’s go over the important things. Tonight was already going to be a night charged with political import, but I don’t think anyone expected it to be as... complicated.”

“How will Sylphfree react to the bomb threat?” Amaryllis asked. “For that matter, to Broccoli’s request?”

Caprica shook her head. “Hard to tell. I think the population has been primed to expect conflict. I don’t keep up to date with all of the journals, but there was a lot of rising tension in the city. Recruitment has been up for a few weeks as well. If the truth comes out, and it definitely should, then I don’t know how the average sylph will react to a new adversary being discovered.”

“Some will accuse the kingdom of using a scapegoat,” Amaryllis said. “Others will be angry that something is interfering with a potential war that they want to see realised. I think most will just want to know more. You might have to inform people about Rainnewt’s motivations, otherwise the story won’t make sense.”

“Which begs the question,” Bastion said. “What are his motivations? I didn’t have time to have a good discussion with the man while we fought. Though there is some truth in the saying that combat is a conversation, it's unfortunately not a terribly verbose kind of conversation.”

I nodded along. “He mostly wanted to start the war because he thinks it's one way to accomplish his quest,” I said.

“A quest?” Caprica asked. She really perked up at that. “As in a World-given quest?”

“Yup, same as mine, I think,” I said. “The world’s worried about the Evil Roots, and it’s pulling in Riftwalkers to take care of them. I, uh, mostly ignored my quest because exploring and making friends is more fun, but I guess Rainnewt didn’t.”

Amaryllis rubbed her face. “You’re not supposed to admit to ignoring a quest, Broccoli.”

“But it’s true?”

“Yes, which just makes it worse,” Amaryllis chastised.

“Awa, I don’t think it’s so bad. Broccoli found a way to destroy the roots without destroying the dungeon the roots are strangling. It’s a good step forward.”

Caprica raised a hand. “Give me a moment, I need to dissect this. I knew you were a Riftwalker, which is impressive. But to have a quest... did you know?” she turned towards Bastion.

The paladin didn’t meet her eyes. “I may have omitted a few minor facts from my report,” he said. “An issue that arose from the lack of time to create a fully detailed report.”

“I see,” Caprica said. For some reason that seemed to make her pretty smug. “Well then, Rainnewt has a World-given quest. I’m not sure if that should be made public.”

“Why not?” I asked. “It’ll explain why he did what he did.”

“Yes, but some people, across all countries, will place the will of the World far ahead of the will of a nation. Someone who communicates with the World is given great weight, so if such a person were to suggest that the World desires war, then any such conflict would become… somewhat religious in nature. A few lords and assorted politicians might use that to inflame their support base.” Caprica frowned. “We can’t reveal Rainnewt’s reasoning if it’s based on the World’s will.”

I huffed. “It’s based on his own interpretation of that will,” I said. “I don’t think he’s right. I don’t remember any of Miss Menu’s quest prompts telling me to start a war or anything like that. He’s just doing things this way because he’s not very nice and because he’s too lazy to find a solution that helps everyone.”

“I don’t think those kinds of solutions exist all that often,” Amaryllis said. “But I won’t disagree that Rainnewt is a fool.”

“Let’s put that aside for the moment,” Caprica said. “Broccoli, the favour you asked of my father will put him in an interesting position. I don’t think most would look down on him for ignoring the favour, though it would tarnish his reputation a little. On the other hand, he can now use that as an excuse to put more effort into finding a diplomatic solution to this entire situation. If a sylph lord or lady questions why the royal family is trying so far to de-escalate, we can claim that we’re honour-bound to do at least the bare minimum to find a peaceful solution.”

“That’s good, isn’t it?” I asked.

Caprica nodded. “It is. That was a daring move, and a risky one. You basically earned a lot of political capital and spent it all instantly, which will take some of the older politicians off-guard.”

“What about my boon?” Awen asked. “I don’t know what to do with it.”

Bastion was the one to reply to that question. “Usually the boon will allow you to ask a favour, such as what Broccoli did. Or it will allow you to borrow something from the one who has given you the boon. Asking for money outright would be possible, but it would make you seem somewhat dishonourable.”

“Boons have been used to ask for assistance with political issues, to gain permission to ask for someone’s hand in marriage, and for things as simple as throwing a great party,” Caprica said.

Amaryllis perked up. “Someone has used a king’s boon to throw a party?”

Caprica nodded. “Once. When my father was first prince at that. I heard it was quite the event.”

“That’s great,” I said. “Do you want to do something like that, Awen?”

Awen frowned and glanced out of the carriage’s window, her eyes seemed to stare past the buildings moving across. “No, I think I’ll use my boon for something else. I haven’t decided yet though.”

“It’s up to you,” I said. I leaned to the side and bumped her shoulder with mine, a physical reminder that I was there for her if she needed me, or if she just needed some hugs.

Awen nodded once. “I’ll come up with something, don’t worry. Boons don’t expire, right?”

“Not quite, no,” Bastion said. “But usually they’re only valid with the person who issued them, and only for the issued. If you pass away, or the king leaves the throne to the next leader, then the boon’s more or less forfeit. Though a new ruler might reinstate the boon, if they really wish to.”

“A boon is an unnamed favour. It holds no value beyond that given by the boon-giver’s honour,” Caprica said. “I think there have been kings in other nations whose boons would be worthless because their word was worthless.”

The carriage shook a bit as we bounced over a sidewalk. I glimpsed the walls of the palace moving past, then the gates rattled shut behind us.

We wheeled around the entranceway and came to a full stop in front of the palace. A guard opened the door while another set a small wooden step stool next to the carriage.

We scrambled out and onto the front steps of the new palace. There were a lot more guards around, I noticed. Maybe it was like that across the entire city though? The entire guard force being placed on higher alert in case Rainnewt had plans beyond just his attack on the summit.

A nice butler sylph greeted us and led us into the palace proper. The girls and I were brought to a side-passage with a large washroom. I didn’t exactly need to take the warm and humid towel I was handed, but stuffing it against my face felt nice so I didn’t make a fuss.

“We likely have outfits Broccoli and Awen can change into,” Caprica said. I wasn’t sure if she was talking to me or to one of the servants.

“What’s wrong with my outfit?” I asked. It was clean.

Caprica gestured down, and I noticed for the first time that there were cuts along the seams and a few scrapes that my Cleaning magic couldn’t do anything about. Awen’s dress had a small tear or two as well.

“Oh,” I said.

“The staff can sew it back together, I’m certain. They are impressively quick too. You wouldn’t imagine how many dresses and uniforms need a quick bit of last-minute adjusting before an event.”

I nodded along, and when a maid brought me an outfit, I slipped behind a changing screen and dressed up. It was one of those more militaristic sylph uniforms. All square angles and poofed epaulettes. It made me feel like a proper captain or something. Also, it had a skirt, which was nice.

“Okay,” I said as I stepped out. Awen and Amaryllis inspected me, and I got a thumbs and talons up. Awen was in a pretty sundress in a pale green that was quite pretty on her. “What now?” I asked.

“Dinner with guests usually starts long before the food is served,” Caprica said. “We can linger around the dinning hall, there’s room to sit, and finger food.”

“Oh, I love finger food,” I said.

“Then you’ll be quite pleased to find that there’s a whole host of choice here,” Caprica said.

“Anything we should note before the dinner?” Amaryllis asked as we followed Caprica through the many corridors of her home.

Caprica started to shake her head, then stopped. “We don’t talk about politics, religion, or the economy until after we’ve eaten. Usually that kind of thing will be saved for after dessert. It’s just polite because it gives those who don’t want to talk about such things an excuse to vacate the area without being rude.”

“So until then, only happy subjects,” I said.

“Yes, exactly,” Caprica said. “You might meet my other sisters. Gabrielle will certainly be here. And my mother, of course. Though she might be off bullying Inquisitor Storm.”

The dining hall was a large, plus-symbol-shaped room. The centre was dominated by a large table underneath a ceiling made of windows that let in fading evening light. The four branches had all sorts of interesting distractions though. Benches and a piano in one, a small library in another, and even what seemed like a small games room and a smoking parlour.

Already, a few sylph were milling around, or quietly minding their own business while sampling some sweet-smelling meats and pastries.

“A room full of important sylph,” Amaryllis muttered. “Time to put your friendmaking to work, Broccoli.”

I grinned. We didn’t have much time to prepare for the evening, but it might be fun after all.

***