Chapter Text
Part 3 with love
Helga’s heartbeat thundered in her ears. The stunning Lady Rosetta looked down her nose at her, teeth bared.
“What do you think you are doing here?”
Why was SHE here? Did the Duke find her out somehow? Did he send his daughter to intercept her? He must have. Why else would she be here. Did Rosetta know-
Rosetta’s eyes flicked to the letter. Entirely too late, Helga put it behind her back.
Great thinking.
Lady Rosetta’s face contorted into something of a cruel smile. A mirror image of the duke looked Helga up and down.
“I don’t know where an uneducated brute like you got that note, but I suggest you give it to me before I lose my patience.”
No.
No, no Helga couldn’t. She couldn’t let her have this. The letter would go to the duke, and the duke would recognize the writing, and then she would have made everything worse, even worse than before. She couldn’t, she couldn’t-
Helga ran.
———
Agnes stormed out of the meeting tent, leaving the opening to catch the howling, biting wing. She heard shouts from inside. Good . Let them freeze.
She couldn’t calm herself down. Her anger radiated recklessly through her veins. Her head thrummed with the cacaphonous pounding of heat. Her whole body was aflame, even as she marched through the frozen clearing. Snow whipped around her and the men sullenly camped around small, struggling fires. The morale was abysmal. Trees centuries old and untouched loomed above them from all sides, enclosing their camp. Or, perhaps more accurately, surrounding them, for just beyond the tree line were hoards of monsters waiting to attack. And here they were waiting to be attacked, because the royal knights couldn’t remove their heads from their own -
Agnes roared, throwing her arms out and releasing her blaze.
“Watch it,” a red haired Remdragon grumbled. “I’ve been called smoking hot, but this is too far.”
Agnes threw herself down next to him, panting and sweating.
The man leaned over kindly, grabbing her armored shoulder with his massive hand. His smile was wry, but the dark patches were unable to prevent the twinkle in his tired eyes. “Go ahead and let it out, princess, I’ve seen worse.”
She yanked off her helmet and with a yell threw it as hard as she could into the snow. They sat in silence, her blond hair whipping around her face as snow fell around them, stealing the warmth and sound from the world. Not for the first time, she cursed this dragon’s blasted mountain. She cursed the royal knights. She cursed the Nornui mage division. The chapped skin of her face stung. Not for the first time, she wished her brother were here. Of the two of them, he was by far the better negotiator. Agnes was the brawn, he was the brains, and together they were a force to be reckoned with.
Now, she felt alone and incapable. And she missed him.
She fell back into the snow with a groan.
Elias was likely losing his mind back at the castle, as well, Agnes knew. He confided in her at length of his frustrations of the careful handling and restrictions that came with being the heir to the throne. Agnes treasured her freedom, which allowed her to pursue her own life, to craft her skills as a sorceress and engage in battle throughout the kingdom for the kingdom, carrying the banner of the lion to every corner. Elias felt caged under the guise of the necessity of protection, declawed by the insistence that he shall never see battle.
He turned 18, just a month ago. Any celebrations were postponed until the end of the dragon conquest, as it would be in poor taste to celebrate the king’s son while a good portion of the nation’s armies left their homes to fight in a barren wasteland, losing their lives in a campaign that seemed to lengthen and grow more dangerous with each passing day.
“Sorry for the temper tantrum, Nirta.”
“Eh,” he shrugged his massive, plated shoulders with a clink. “That was nothing. You travel with the commander long enough, you’ll see what I mean.”
Agnes snorted. “That’s a bull headed man if I ever knew one.”
“Bull headed, bull shaped, entirely willing to charge into battle with nothing but his own rage to protect him…”
Agnes laughed, watching him count off comparisons on one hand, then the next.
Calypse was certainly a complicated man to work with. Everyone, including her father, had written him off as a man of insignificant birth altogether not worth spending time considering. He was knighted, and promptly written off as another not altogether bright but vicious Remdragon. A dog to call on if a fight was to be had, but to be kept outside and nearly forgotten otherwise. Then he had risen quickly through the ranks of those crazy Remdragon knights and demanded the court’s attention. He was a wild card, a potential danger to stability, and so her father threw a bone to satiate the dog in the form of a small fief in the south of the kingdom. Calypse took this land of little prospect and steadily increased its worth and stability over the last few years. A gruff and wild man, he was both lusted after and despised in the courts of the nobility. Yet he consistently walked through them unscathed.
Agnes frowned. Until now. Her and her father racked their brains, but could not figure out how the Duke managed it. It was just like that worm of a man to find some way to wriggle out of his responsibilities. But for Calypse to take his bait? That was the truly shocking part. He accepted a backwards deal in which he received neither money nor land nor even the prize daughter to risk life, limb, and all of his company in a multi year long campaign in a barren wasteland. The only thing he received was a marriage to the duke’s sickly daughter. Agnes had heard all sorts of rumors, from that she was simply so self important and spoiled that the Duke allowed her to avoid dealing with any other lesser people, to that she was in fact so frail and sickly that she couldn’t even stand for long enough to attend a dinner. Agnes believed any child takes after their parents, and so she was never a fan of any of his offspring. All seemed to agree that this Maximillian Croix was a beloved daughter and that the Duke doted on her greatly. So why would he marry her off to the man he called an “insufferable bastard and brute”? And why would Calypse stand to marry a woman who was either incredibly weak or the epitome of a snobbish aristocrat when he had shown so much disdain for both qualities?
Nirta poked between her eyes, startling her. She punched him in the chest.
“Ouch,” he pouted, rubbing the bruise. “Touchy.”
“What’s wrong with you? Why would you do that?”
“You had a weird look.”
“You’re a weird look.”
“Excuse you, I am exceedingly dashing.”
“Piss off.”
Nirta poked her face again.
“I hate you,” Agnes laughed.
Nirta guffawed loudly, until a snowball hit his head.
“Shut up Nirta!” Uslin yelled over.
Nirta grinned wickedly. “He’s just jealous I made you laugh.”
Agnes would have replied, had a man not flown out of the meeting tent with a yelp. Cries of anger followed. Snow puffed up around him and into the air on impact. He groaned. Lumbering out of the tent came Calypse, eyes dark and deadly.
“To arms, men!” He shouted, deep and commanding. The response of the Remdragon was deafening.
“KILL!”
“Prepare to move!”
The man on the ground scrambled out of the way of Calypse’s boot. The air of the camp changed immediately, bodies running to and fro, extinguishing fires, hollering to comrades.
“Calypse!” Agnes called, crossing over to him through the swarm. He tossed the saddle onto his horse, back to her.
“Prepare the mages. Ensure they are protected.”
“And the royal knights?”
“Can choke on a goblin’s hook.”
“You can’t keep solving conflicts by ignoring them, Calypse. I won’t have disunity in our ranks when there already aren’t enough soldiers!”
He finally turned, eyes glinting crimson as if ablaze with Hell itself. “Any coward not man enough to fight I will strip of his weapon and send to feed the werewolves.”
With that, he pulled himself atop his horse and left.
“What a raging lunatic,” Agnes grumbled.
——————
Helga panted as she sprinted down the hall. You idiot, she thought, now you’ve made everything worse!
The hallway split, and she scrambled toward the servants passageways, knocking into a table. She didn’t have time to look back at the crash she heard, because Lady Rosetta was running after her.
Helga nearly laughed at the absurdity of the situation, but she needed to concentrate.
She could lose her in the servants quarters.
Damn the Duke, but bless his pompous castle. There was a maze of servants' passageways that gave shortcuts throughout the castle, on account of the fact that he thought that maids and servants should not be allowed in public hallways. And given that Helga had been beaten several times for disobeying, she came to know these passageways well.
There was one route Helga knew that could throw off any straggler.
She grabbed the banister, and used it to propel herself around another corner, her skirts swooshing behind her. Rosetta was getting a little farther away with each turn. She was so quiet, it was unnerving. Helga was just grateful she hadn’t called for the guards.
Just one more turn!
This passageway twisted in 8 potential directions with 8 separate doors, one leading directly outside. The lady was more than half a hallway away now, there was no way for her to figure out where she went!
“ Wait !” The lady whispered harshly.
Not a chance. Helga grinned as she pivoted once, twice, three times, ducking through a doorway and slamming it shut.
——-
An orange sunrise broke through the darkness as a chain of men carried stretchers through the trees. Exhausted healers stumbled along with them, mana depleted enough that they were half carried, half dragged by the knights supporting them.
The battle was over. They made it to another summit. A wake of bodies trailed behind them, the dark bridal veil of their victory. Agnes watched from her post outside the officers tent as one of her subordinates, a young and slight healer, collapsed into the snow. She set down the report in her hand, but before she could cross the field, a Remdragon hoisted him into a carry. The mage didn’t protest, hanging limply off either ends of the man’s shoulders. The Remdragon staggered toward the mage’s tents. He didn’t seem capable of taking even a single step more, and yet he marched on.
Agnes groaned as she fell back onto the frozen ground. She was exhausted. The dull pounding in her head called her to rest, but there was too much to do. She glared down at the report and willed the haze to lift.
All and all, they suffered minimal casualties. In no small part was that due to the organized chaos of the Remdragon knights.
If asked a short time ago, she would have said that Calypse and his company showed no deference to any man, and certainly no respect to any wizard. The traitor was among them, of course, and Nornui held no esteem for him. However, having fought by the side of this commander, she found a different account true. He had immediately sized her up as a leader with a clear view of all her strengths and weaknesses, as well as those of her mage division. And he had certainly come to a very clear understanding of the royal knights.
“Your highness.”
Agnes glared up at the intruder.
“What, Serbel,” she said. Her voice was wrecked from hours of screaming commands. Speaking felt like gargling nails. She could taste the blood in her throat.
The traitor snorted, tossing his hood down over his shoulders. His white hair contrasted the dark circles under his eyes. The report he held gave away a slight tremble, and Agnes would have felt bad, except for the impish look directed toward her.
“Sorry to interrupt, but I have the updated list of-“
Suddenly, the tent flap opened and struck Serbel. Agnes fought to restrain her grin.
He yelped and rubbed his arm as an officer of the Royal knights strutted out.
“Excuse you,” Serbel muttered.
The man in question only shrugged his shining pauldrons higher, red cape flickering behind him.
“Wizard,” he called. “Where is the list of supplies I ordered from you?”
Agnes frowned. Sir Fragg could pull rank on any of his men, but to give a direct order to either a mage class or a member of the Remdragon order was expressly prohibited. It was a crucial part of their precarious cooperation that had been respected so far. If he wished to have this list, he would have to make a request to the commander, who Agnes greatly doubted would authorize such an action.
“I’m sorry,” the white haired wizard bit out. “I must have misheard you. I was busy stopping half a dozen of your men from bleeding out.”
Fragg frowned. “Were there not other wizards to administer to them?”
At once Agnes’s rage burned through all her exhaustion. She jumped to her feet, hands tingling.
“Last I checked-“
“FRAGG!”
A booming voice cut through the air. Everyone scattered around the encampment snapped to attention at the sight of the commander. The air seemed to chill as his dark eyes honed in on their position.
“Fragg, where were you?!”
The man in question removed his polished helmet with a sigh.
“Enough of the theatrics, Calypse. I’m not one of your grunts.”
“Where were you?”
“On the same wasteland as you.”
“Then why was it that none of your men could find you?”
Fragg harrumphed, face reddening. “What would a half breed mercenary know of leadership?!”
Agnes leapt forward as Calypse closed the distance, grabbing Fragg roughly by the shirtfront.
“Young men lay dead from your incompetence and cowardice!”
“Enough!” Agnes yelled, shoving them apart.
Calypse turned, the chill in his eyes deadly. “This imbecile broke past our formation with two of his youngest soldiers. When he got there, he turned from the front lines, and left them at the mercy of a dozen werewolves. They lay face up getting covered by snow, because this gutless weakling abandoned his men!”
“Mind your own troops!”
“We were advancing! Why would you charge before our line just to piss yourself?”
“You are nothing but a bastard and a cu-“
“I said enough!” Agnes yelled, tearing Fragg away before he gave Calypse a reason, though it would please her greatly to see it. “Go account for your men, the both of you!”
Fragg grumbled as he trekked back into the officer’s tent.
Calypse ground his teeth, hatred hot enough he seemed to steam in the frigid air. “I see you entertain these morons just as your father does.”
“What would you have me do? Alienate a third of our forces? Where will that leave us, Calypse?!”
“Stronger.”
With that he turned and stalked away. He grabbed a spare log with one hand, heading toward the group of young soldiers attempting to start a fire. Their red insignias gleamed in the rapidly rising sun.
“He’s always been like this, in case you were wondering.”
Agnes’s eyes flickered back to the shadows, where the traitor seemed to appear out of. “Give it time, you’ll see the utility in his thinking.”
Agnes cursed. “You all give me headaches.”
With that, she stalked away to the mages.
————-
The door slammed behind Helga. A dairy cow raised their head lazily from the floor, ears flicking. Helga briskly walked through the wooden stable off the kitchen. This was where a few animals were kept for butchering and preparing the coming week. Wooden beams stretched in zigzag patterns from the entrance to the servants passage, to a back entrance that lead to the kitchen. A steady rain echoed off the walls and the roofs, but inside it stayed dry.
Act natural. She thought to herself. If I was can figure a way to get this letter to someone else, there’s still hope. Maybe I could change clothes and sneak back in. Maybe I can cut my hair and pretend to be someone else.
Helga knew she couldn’t disappear into the kitchen. The kitchen staff were notoriously gossipy, and the cook would immediately recognize her. She rounded the corner, then hesitated as her foot went straight into mud. The window was open, and bits of rain dropped through onto the dirt floors.
Helga hitched up her skirts. Chickens clucked around her as she skirted her way around the puddle.
She approached the window, the pouring rain spitting through. Helga really didn’t want to go out there, but it would be far worse to be caught by a guard or another servant. With a wiggle and a jump, she pulled herself up onto the ledge.
“You can do it Helga. You’ve got to do it Helgaaaaa-ouch!”
Helga yelped in pain. Her braid was yanked back, and she tumbled off the windowsill. Her back hit the ground hard. The mud splashed up around her. It’s in my eyes! She panicked. Someone pounced on top of her. She slipped in the mud, trying to push them off. She rolled. They grabbed her by the shoulder. Helga opened her mouth to scream, but a hand slapped over her mouth.
“Please be quiet!” The voice whispered.
Helga stilled. The taste of mud in her mouth was far less shocking than the sound of Lady Rosetta’s staccato breathing in her ear. Suddenly she noticed the clanking of armor coming closer.
The castle guard! She thought in horror. They were going to find her. They were going to beat her and throw her into the dungeon. They were notoriously cruel and vicious, but even worse would be if they told the Duke about the letter. He would kill her.
The clanking grew louder, louder. Helga willed herself not to cry, not to tremble too loudly. Lady Rosetta was as still and cold as ice.
Clank, clank, clank.
Helga was so afraid. If she were caught now, there would be no escape for her or her lady. Her heartbeat thundered in her ears, eyes stinging and watering. The grit on the lady’s hands stung her face.
Wait, is she… helping me?
Why was she not calling for the guards? Why was she hiding in the mud?
Questions swirled in Helga’s mind, as she listened keenly for noise outside. Eventually, she heard the clanking of feet retreat until the silence of the stable returned.
The frigid hands left her face, and their owner fell to the ground next to her with a shuddering sigh. Helga wiped the mud out of her eyes, and confirmed what she thought she heard.
Their breathing filled the stable. The animals began to move around again. Helga felt so relieved, she started to cry.
“Cluck,” the chicken by her head said.
Rosetta’s eyes met hers, and they started to giggle. Their laughter turned hysterical, the subsiding panic leaving cottony giddiness behind.
“You should see yourself,” Rosetta laughed.
“Are you kidding?” Helga guffawed. “You’re no better!”
“We’re the castle pigs!”
Helga snorted. Rosetta laughed so hard, she slipped face first into the mud. Helga helped her up, and they scooted out of the mud together.
“What is happening right now?” Helga asked as Rosetta wiped her face off. At once, the lady seemed to realize herself and sat up straighter. Her demeanor changed completely within seconds, and she was the frigid witch Helga was terrified of. Except, they were on the stable floor soaked in mud, and Helga just watched her blow it out her nose.
“Are you working with my Father?” She demanded harshly. Helga fought back the urge to dump her back into the mud.
“No. Are you working with him?”
“No.”
Helga stared at her incredulously. “Then why were you in the prince’s bedroom?”
Rosetta’s cheeks reddened. “I could ask you the same thing!”
“But I asked first!”
“And I kept you from leaping onto the castle guards!”
Helga grimaced. That certainly wasn’t a good look. Rosetta looked her up and down critically. Helga would have bowed her head as she did to the Duke, but the look was… off. Not as sharp. Not as cruel.
“Can we agree that we are both avoiding my father?” Rosetta asked, with only a slight demand this time.
“Yes, my lady.”
Lady Croyso extended her hand. “In that case, we are allies. You must call me Rosetta.”
Helga decided that her life had turned upside down, and that she liked Rosetta Croix. She shook her hand, grinning wickedly.
“I am Helga. And I promise not to tell a soul you were trying to sneak kisses from your betrothed.”
“I was not!”
“Hmm,” she nodded. “Very believable.”
Rosetta glared at her. She was far less scary with a streak of mud across her face. She opened her mouth to retort, until her eyes flickered down to the ground. Helga gasped.
Her letter, her only way to help her poor lady lay soiled and soaked by the window. She tried to lift the paper out of the mud, but it tore to pieces in her hands. Shame enveloped her. She felt hot all over. Tears began to blur her vision.
Absolutely useless. You’ll never do anything right.
A gentle hand was placed on top of hers, interrupting her mother’s voice in her head. Helga was frozen at the sight of the dainty, messy hand on top of hers. She looked up, and was struck by the genuine concern in Rosetta’s blue eyes. She was not soft and warm, like her sister, but there was no cruelty of the Duke present either. Her eyes were sharp and soothing, a thawing lake.
“If you tell me what was in the letter, perhaps I can help you,” she said.
Helga hesitated. She didn’t want to trust this information to anyone. But, now that she had nothing at all, she didn’t see any other option. Who knew if Lady Maximillian would be well enough to do that again any time soon? How could she even get back to her room without raising suspicions? And, after all, Helga knew Rosetta was far smarter than she was. But…
“You may not like it,” she warned.
Rosetta quirked her brow with a look of superiority, though without any bite.
“Now you must tell me,” she said.
Helga took a deep breath, angling her face away while monitoring the lady’s face carefully.
“It was asking that the prince take Lady Maximillian away from the castle,” she said in a small voice.
Rosetta’s face became indiscernible, blinking back in shock. Helga curled into herself, waiting to be yelled at or smacked.
“You… care for my sister? You did all this for her?”
Helga looked back up warily. She didn’t want to give too much away. Nobles could change their minds, after all, and who would believe the words of a peasant? Who would care?
Still, Helga could not bring herself to lie about her lady.
“She is good, ma’am,” she murmured. “And she is very sick.”
Rosetta nodded. She opened her mouth, then shut it. Helga had never seen her disheveled before this evening. She had always been more of a statue than a person. Rosetta rubbed the drying mud on her forehead and it crumbled away.
“That is the same reason I was there.”
Now it was Helga’s turn to be surprised. Her mouth dropped open.
“You’re kidding me.”
“I am serious.”
A shout from down the castle burst the bubble of the moment. They looked at each other. It seemed that the fanfare associated with the crown prince was coming to an end, and soon the staff would be coming back to their quarters.
Rosetta’s mouth set into a firm line as she stood, hoisting her stiffened skirts along with her. “Let us get back inside before we are discovered. We can discuss what to do next once we are in a secure location.”
“How secure, exactly?” A man’s voice called from the other end of the room.
The women froze in terror, turning slowly as a stall door opened. From the pen came a dark haired man wearing the uniform of a castle guard.