The Kingdom of Belmar

Chapter 29

It's difficult planning a revolt when you're wary of your subordinates. It's even more difficult when you're supposed to be dead.

Today is a test of both of these difficulties.

Percival keeps his distance almost as much as I keep mine, though, every now and then when I think he will explain himself, he never does. I want to believe that he's harmless, for the sake of our goals, for the sake of Cole, but he makes it so difficult. Grace continues to ramble during our daily briefings as she always had, and I attempt to maintain my cordial facade, choosing to act as though nothing's bothering me. Though, outwardly, I've been disclosing less to Percival than before, and he seems too unsettled to ask for more.

But today is not the time to concern myself with Percival's possible traitorous behaviors or even my own suspicions. Best I can do to control a person of interest is allow him to believe he's gotten away with whatever malicious action he's committed, and slowly cut him away. No, there's more pressing matters on today's agenda.

Today is when the weapons supplier, Count Darius, is to visit the ducal estate.

It's our task to get him on our side and agree to help us usurp the throne.

"You, my father, and I will be the only ones in the conference room. Count Darius is a rather egocentric man, he won't wish to negotiate with those lacking status."

Cole nodded, looking at the training ground where Philip, Grace, and especially, Percy continue to train. "And what of our little...issue?"

I shake my head, looking on at the everyday scene unfolding. "Ignore it. For now. Percy's decisions will only grow more rash if he knows we're suspicious of him."

"You don't trust him." It wasn't a question so much as a confirmation. A reminder, one that I had no need of being reminded.

"I don't, but there's no proof of treason, nor do we know what was the contents of that letter. There isn't much to do when all there is is a simple distrust. Especially when he's one of only a handful of people that know we're alive, her in my father's manor." Grace jumps on his back now, a smile on her face as she ruffles his hair. Will it hurt her if his betrayal turns out to be true? From the laughs and the playful taunts, the answer is all too clear.

Cole looks onward, and even he's not sure what to believe. That much is clear just by the rapid adjustment in his eyes as he follows Percival's movements across the training grounds. "The Count will be arriving soon," is all he says, and the two of us head inside.

With one last glance back at the second knights' regiment, I see Percival, staring back at me, turning away so quickly it makes me wonder if I just imagined it all.

        *            *            *

"Count Darius!" Duke Ewell is a genteel man more than capable of making respectable friends and connections. "It's been too long since you've traveled this far west." Being acquainted with the Duke is a clear line of favor to the entire nobility of Belmar, being his friend is a clear line of favor to the crown. There is none more royal than a king, but anyone who knows Duke Ewell would contest that blood isn't the only thing that makes one royal.

"Your Grace," the count dips into a deep bow, and his servant follows suit. He's a bitter looking man, wrinkled with sun and age, and yet plump with extravagance and lack of frugality. His hair has all but left him, save a few strands thoughtfully pressed to the side of an otherwise shiny head. "I concur," he continues, his voice hoarse with years of damage caused by cigar smoke. "See I've been notified my mines on the border have been thriving lately and decided to place a visit myself. It's an honor for you to welcome me into your home to restock our supplies. No other town in Belmar has quite the thriving economy as the Ewell Dukedom, you see?"