Alek Aundra
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CH 112 - The Vote (Part 6)
🕑 Added 2023-06-24 17:32:14 +0000 UTCThe twins got out of the carriage first.
"I wish you all the best," I told Duncan, who remained sitting inside.
"Thank you." Duncan waved goodbye, and the carriage door closed on him.
"Take him to the Genuiver estate in the capital," I told the driver.
"Very well, young master Luca." The driver tipped his cap, and the dark carriage rolled away.
"Young master Luca." Remlend appeared. "I was informed that Kathy had stopped by earlier and left a box for you."
Right. It was about time I gained my needles.
"Have it brought to my room," I said. "And have a carriage ready for me. I'll be going to the Ashford Bakery momentarily."
"Most certainly." Remlend bowed and hurried off.
The fifth day of the seventh Round went without a hitch to the Ashford Bakery, but there were variables at play that I could not control. I was inadvertently changing the future, but then there were other Awakened like Chase moving about and changing the future evermore. There was no telling what unexpected dangers would befall me. I had to be prepared.
I rubbed my temples.
Especially given how I had people like The Alchemist and The Farmer to worry about.
"Peep!"
It's those needles again. The poisonous ones.
I arrived at my room, and Kathy's box of poisonous needles awaited me on my desk.
<< That's right. >>
I nodded.
<< You didn't see me use them in the previous Round. They came in handy. >> I replied, recalling running into the goons in the alley. << They were especially handy when I was captured and needed to restart the Round. >>
Click.
I pushed the two golden clasps upward and opened the lacquered red box. Leona fluttered over, perched herself on one of the box's sides, and inspected the six compartments of plain silver needles, black blinding needles, blue muscle relaxers, red rash spreaders, yellow illness inducers, and purple death.
"Peep?"
Luca, you were captured? What happened?
Leona cocked her head to one side. Her golden eyes appeared concerned.
I realized I never told her about what had passed on my end while she was in the grasp of The Alchemist.
<< A rather problematic interrogation expert known as The Farmer had caught me. >> I replied. << He would have kept me in a vegetative state for decades if I didn't get away in time. >>
"Peep!"
How scary! Why would he want to do that?
I shrugged and pocketed a handful of needles, hiding them in the compartments of my clothing.
<< I'm not sure, but someone likely hired him. And for a very lucrative sum. >>
The Framer used the essence of a phoenix claw in an attempt to bring me back from the cliffside of death. It was only thanks to the Yellow Volcano needle that I could safely die.
I chuckled.
Oh, the irony. But as Elda had once said, there really were fates worse than death.
Click.
I locked the box closed, and Leona fluttered atop my head.
"Peep!"
Don't worry, human. From now on, I'll stay with you and protect you against him, for I am a brilliant and mighty phoenix.
I smiled, seeing the little ball of yellow fluff amongst my black hair in a mirror's reflection. Her little chest was puffed out, and her wings spread out.
It was cute. But even for all her magic and ancestral knowledge, she was still but a child. Having her burn Henry's corpse in the previous round's funeral ceremony was the extent of what I hoped to get her involved with.
<< Thanks Leona, but don't worry, I can take care of myself. You're the one I'm worried about protecting. You have a rather dangerous individual after you as well. >>
I walked out of my bedroom to an awaiting Henry and Remlend.
"Young master Luca, your carriage is ready for you," Remlend said.
"Thank you," I nodded.
"We're going to the Ashford Bakery again?" Henry asked. He had the expression of an excitable golden retriever.
Was he that pleased with our last trip there? Should I have an order of their pastries delivered to the Frey Manor each morning, perhaps?
Everyone seemed quite happy with the pastries from Round 6, and if I had any hope of dispersing my poor reputation, offering a hand of goodwill towards the Frey household staff was a decent way to start.
***
"Luca Frey, it would appear that I am one messenger dove short." Natalia Ashford crossed her arms and gazed at me.
To my luck, she was available, and I was able to see her immediately. However, she looked understandably discontent.
"I apologize," I said. "I'll have a new one purchased for you."
I settled into the seat opposite Natalia. The delicate purple blooms of the wisteria tree swayed gently, providing a delightful fragrance that enveloped us.
"Good, I'll send the bill your way." Natalia picked up her teacup and took a sip.
Tsk. How much were messenger doves going for on the market nowadays?
Given how intelligent they were, they were in high demand. But they were also frequently shot down, and the population was quickly moving towards extinction.
"Please enjoy." With a gracious smile, the green-vested young man set down a platter of petite sandwiches and delicate pastries, carefully arranged to showcase their culinary artistry and tempt the senses.
"Peep!"
Yes! Finally!
Launching herself at the stand, Leona wasted no time savoring the delectable offering, consuming two sandwiches in a flurry of bites.
One would think I had starved her all day when in reality, I had ensured she was well-fed, including on the ride back from the Town of Ascot.
I frowned.
I understood the appreciation of good food, especially after surviving on the scraps of my first life post-downfall of the Frey Merchant Guild. However, Leona's appetite was on an entirely other level. I had initially summed it up to her being a growing baby phoenix, but now I wasn't so confident. Sure, she might have stored a chunk of food in her other stomach for later, but she was still obviously eating far more than what seemed possible.
Her joyful chirps filled my mind, expressing the sheer delight she experienced from the flavors that graced her senses.
"Your bird has quite the appetite," Natalia commented.
"She does, doesn't she…" I said.
Leona had swept the platter, already having eaten what was obviously impossible to fit into her tiny baby chick belly.
"She appears quite intelligent. I've heard you bring her everywhere?" Natalia smiled and tapped her long purple nails against her teacup.
I gazed up into Natalia's eyes.
Damn it. How many people have seen Leona eat?
Anyone with half a brain and a decent level of observation would have figured out something was not quite adding up about this little baby chick that could eat more than twenty times her size.
"I have a new request," I said, ignoring Natalia's worrisome comment. "I'm looking for someone."
"Oh?" Natalia smiled. "Who might you be searching for? Depending on the difficulty, the price will differ."
"Grandov Lyman," I said. "He's a soldier of The Guard."
"Ah, I know that name," Natalia said. Her purple finger tapped the menu on the table. "And if his location is all you wish to know, it'll only cost two gold Deux coins."
That was much cheaper than going to my information broker.
I placed the two coins before us.
"Wonderful." Natalia slid the coins toward herself. "Rumor has it that he had entered the Celestial Mountain Range."
I frowned at this insight.
"Why would he?" I asked.
The Celestial Mountain Range was no ordinary mountain range. It sat east within the Adovorian Kingdom, the lone side with no dukedom. Its sharp black glass-like slopes and mist-shrouded valleys made it an area impossible for people to reside within. Legends spoke of ancient spirits that haunted its secluded corners, their presence felt in every gust of wind and every rustle of leaves.
The odd traveler would wander into the Celestial Mountain Range, and half the time, they would never return. The other half of the time, they'd return but seem changed. That's what people told me, at least. I didn't know anyone who went into the Celestial Mountain Range and returned—until now.
For what purpose did Grandov decide to enter those creepy mountains?
"I don't have that information handy, but I can certainly look into it," Natalia offered. She picked up her tea and took a sip. "It'll cost you 50 gold Deux coins."
Tch.
The "where" was cheap, but the "why" was considerably more expensive.
I slid over a phoenix eye, not having that many more coins on me. "Consider this as pre-payment for future gossip and to provide a morning delivery of an assortment of pastries to the Frey Manor."
I planned to place an order anyhow, and this seemed an appropriate time as any.
"My parents will be pleased with the renewing order." Natalia smiled and accepted the gemstone. "Wait in the shop after this. My mother will come around and bring you a basket of pastries."
By Leona's chirping, it appeared she was also pleased by the news.
Just where does her appetite come from?
"Well then, it shouldn't take me long to find out about Grandov," Natalia said. "I'll send a bird to your residence with the information sometime tomorrow, assuming you don't have it shot down as well."
"I'll let the staff know," I replied.
"Ah." Natalia's eyes moved toward something behind me. I glanced and saw the green-vested attendant.
"Your next appointment is here?" I guessed.
"Indeed, I'm afraid so," Natalia replied.
I downed the remainder of my tea and motioned Leona to fly back atop my head.
"Until next time, my butterfly!" Natalia waved goodbye.
I re-entered the bakery, and my eyes narrowed on the hooded individual Carlos was leading to see Natalia Ashford.
It's her again. Harley Whitmore.
She was responsible for burning down the Frey Manor in the year 782 of the Adovorian calendar and was likely responsible for Natalia's death in these past couple of rounds.
Should I do something about her?
"Peep!"
Who bothers wearing a hood in the middle of a summer day?
<< Someone that cares more about keeping their identity secret than their comfort and what is socially acceptable. >>
That did beg the question, why was Harley Whitmore so adamant about hiding her identity when visiting the Gossip Queen of Genise? Who was she working for?
"Careful there," a familiar deep voice sounded.
I turned my gaze away from Harley, and my eye met a pair of large blue eyes looking up at me. In front of me was Kleave, with his signature faded dyed pink hair and short stature. In his right hand was a poppy-seed pastry.
"You were about to walk into me," he explained, biting into his pastry. He finished chewing before continuing to speak. "Luca Frey… Kathy mentioned you to me. You bet on me in the fight against The Ogre but didn't stick around to see me win."
"I did not. I had somewhere else I had to get to," I replied.
It felt odd talking with Kleave. I had grown to know him very well in my original life; when he was hung, I had grieved his death. He was a friend. Perhaps he didn't have the same morals as Grandov and Fin, but he was a friend nonetheless.
And yet, he obviously doesn't know me in this Round.
"I suppose we all have places to be." Kleave shrugged and walked away.
"Is that so?" A young woman's voice sounded to my left. "To think Duncan Genuiver saved all those children…. But didn't you say you were scared of him when you met him??"
My ears perked up at Duncan's name.
I glanced over and recognized the same pair of gossiping women I saw back on day two of Round 7. They were around my age, and their fashionable attire and carefully styled hair showcased their status as upper-class members.
The first girl I heard speak exuded an aura akin to that of a spoiled child who had never felt hardship. Her large eyes, framed by long lashes, sparkled with curiosity, and her chestnut brown hair cascaded in loose curls down her back, complementing her graceful demeanor. Her pastel blue dress, adorned with intricate lace patterns, accentuated her slender figure.
On the other hand, her companion possessed an air of resilience and depth. Her attire and sun-kissed complexion hinted at hours spent outdoors, likely riding horses for sport. She was clearly the more mature one of the two. Her golden blonde hair was braided into an intricate style, and her clothing, albeit still very obviously that of someone of the noble class, was more practical.
"Yes, but that was years ago. I was practically a child! You remember the trouble I used to get into." The blonde laughed.
"I do indeed." Her friend chuckled along at an inside joke the two shared.
I smiled. Natalia's gossip about Duncan's good deeds was beginning to spread.
"Ah. My parents were are looking forward to having your family over for dinner to discuss the venture they proposed last time," the blonde one said. "You're still coming, right? My father mentioned that he didn't hear back from your parents."
The brunette sighed in anguish.
"What is it?"
"You're lucky your family isn't of as high a title, so you'll never have to serve on the Noble Council," the brunette replied. "My mother has her monthly meeting today to vote on some matters. I'm not entirely sure what it's about, but she mentioned that it might go well past dinner because of something to do with taxes or trade policies."
"That does sound annoying." The blonde smiled but obviously had her own opinions on the matter.
"Luca Frey?" A woman appeared and handed me a basket filled with pastries. She smiled warmly at me. "Your order."
"Thank you," I replied and left the Ashford Bakery.
I had my own thoughts on the matter of the Noble Council. It was a group of twenty-seven nobles selected based on how much property they managed. In essence, it was the twenty-seven wealthiest noble families deciding the fate of the Adovorian Kingdom.
I agreed with the blonde. It was annoying. I was the first to admit that I was a dreadful heir of the Frey Merchant Guild, but the odds were stacked against families like mine.
"Henry, please distribute these when we arrive home." I handed him the basket of pastries and got in the carriage.
I leaned against the window and gazed out toward the bright scenery of West Genise, a stark contrast to its eastern half.
And yet, despite all that, Father built up the Frey Merchant Guild into what it is today. Through hard work and determination, he had stubbornly pushed through even before he met Mother and received help from her connections.
I frowned, remembering Harley Whitmore's figure standing above the charred wood and brick heap that was the Frey Manor. The Frey Merchant Guild was by then a speckle of what it was today. Yet, someone wanted everything burned to the ground until nothing remained of my family and our legacy. Why?
Comments
Alek Aundra
Happy to have you Undead Writer!
Undead Writer
Thanks for the chapter!
