Chapter 43: Social Tree
“Good to see you… too?” I tried, and then looked at Kazumi in a panic. Her facial expression made it abundantly clear that she was just as confused as I was. Fantastic, just another one of Eliza’s many idiosyncrasies, something she’d kept hidden. How many more of these would we find? Regardless, she should have said something when we discussed plans, but in her defense, she had been more than a little distracted.
Both of the Elf bowed graciously, their silver crowns glittering in the sunlight.
“We did not expect to see you here so soon, Queen Eliza, though I understand that the war has taken a rather… shall we say... interesting turn, hmm?” They looked at me with a smug smile that, for the first time since meeting Otto, made me want to slap an expression off someone’s face. They were undeniably gorgeous, but I had my limits. I was also trying to figure out how to respond. I didn’t feel like sharing my new state as ‘definitely not the old Queen Eliza’ would be conducive to communication, with all the guards around and Morgana’s already faltering loyalty. She already looked at me with shock, wide eyes and barely contained rage.
“I… came here…” I began, hesitantly, “to see how things were progressing… on your end.”
One of them raised an eyebrow, and the corners of their mouth raised just a little bit. I felt like I was being mocked by a cartoon villain. “You didn’t have to come all this way, Queen Eliza. A letter would have sufficed.” They both laughed haughtily. We didn’t. “A very simple letter would have sufficed. Unless there are other reasons for you coming here…?” I didn’t respond, and let the question linger. I wasn’t going to give them more ammunition to do their annoying haughty laugh. After a moment, their expectant eyebrow-raise fell away. “Regardless, Queen Eliza, our agreement hasn’t changed. Unless you lose, of course.” There was that laugh again. I looked aside and saw Sabine’s eye twitch. Mellie had squeezed her eyes closed.
“We will support your little… conquest, provided Amethseryne retains its independence. And the river, of course.”
That one dropped like a bomb, especially on Morgana, whose rage evaporated, and she turned to me with a wolfish grin. I’m sure she thought I’d planned all of this from the beginning, that this was me keeping my promise, betraying the peace I’d made with Anastasia. Of course, that’s not what I’d wanted, but it did lean strongly into the issues Morgana had brought up.
“And…” It was hard not to let anything slip, make it sound like I was guessing or assuming. “You will be ruling, of course.”
There was that laugh again, that managed to sound both wonderful and beautiful and still managed to feel like a cheese grater to the brain. It was the intonation of it, the clear air of superiority.
“We are more than happy to continue to rule Amethseryne in the absence of the Kings of old, Queen Eliza. I’m certain someone will step forward to rule over the Long River again, when the time comes.”
The one on the right shot Morgana a foul glance, the first time I’d seen them express any kind of emotion that wasn’t aggressively pretentious. “Someone living.”
Morgana’s frustration seemed to be coming off of her in waves. It made sense that the last princess of the Dergow would be more than a little peeved at being snubbed. If her rage and hatred had helped her soul survive the centuries, it seemed that there was an element of pride still present in her as well.
“Careful,” I said softly. While assassinating the heads of state of different nations was something that was entirely within what people expected of me, I liked to think it wasn’t quite within my character, and since Morgana was technically working for me, I felt it was my obligation to keep her from charging the two Elf, arrogant weasels though they might have been.
“Queen Eliza,” she hissed. She never raised her voice -- I doubt she even could -- but she managed her barely-audible growl to nevertheless sound incredibly menacing. It felt like this was her version of snarling. “You’ve clearly proven your intentions to align with mine. The Elf will reclaim the Long River.” She raised her hands at the two rulers who regarded her with a kind of bored curiosity. At this distance, I doubted they could hear what Morgana said, despite their comically pointy ears. “But this is an Elf matter. I will sail on the Dergow again. The Long River will belong to me again.”
I couldn’t really tell if it was a promise or a threat. Probably both.
“How will you find new royalty, then? If the line of kings ended that long ago…” I let that pause hang in the air as I addressed the court. They looked at one another. I wondered if I’d get another annoying laugh, but it seemed they were willing to settle for weapons-grade condescension instead.
“Well, Elf culture is highly complex, Queen Eliza. We wouldn’t expect you to… hmmm…” I don’t think I would have been able to control myself if they’d said ‘understand’, but thankfully, for them and myself, they seemed to be smarter than that. “To have been quite so informed, hmm?”
I realized I’d barely been paying attention to which one of them had been speaking. Their voices and cadence were so similar I wondered if they were siblings, a married couple, or just two people who’d worked so long together they’d become the exact same flavour of insufferable.
“Well, if you must know, Queen Eliza,” one of them said as I looked at Morgana, ready to stop her if she charged, “Elf Monarchy is not quite as… hereditary as it is with many others.”
I cocked my head. That was interesting. I’d been considering shifting away from absolute tyrannical rule once we’d had this war over with, and I was curious to know how the Elf went about things.
“Before a monarch ascends the throne, they must first assign several successors. These will then receive the title of Prince or Princess, and will be assigned an ark-city of their own. If they prove themselves worthy, the people will vote for them when the previous King or Queen dies.”
“And you don’t have a monarch right now because you’ve got no ark-cities --” I figured.
“Because we have no waters to sail them on. Correct. Well done, Queen Eliza.” I’d never wanted to slap someone in the teeth quite so strongly before, but I was so, so very ready to give these two an impromptu dental realignment.
“Why not just go to the ocean?” That seemed to me to be the obvious thing to do. If the Dergow was off-limits, then why not go due west? “Is it something to do with the salt water?”
They shook their heads. I half expected tutting. “The Mangrove is versatile enough to survive in all waters. The problem is that entings do not survive very well without resources. These aren’t the ancestral lands of the Elf, sunkissed and verdant. There are no islands full of life just off the coast where the mangrove can rejuvenate itself. There’s just sand. No, if the kingdoms of the Elf are to be rebuilt, we must go by the river. Nothing else will sustain a new City.”
Hum. That was indeed a problem. I briefly wondered if this had ever been brought up with the Wydonian Council of Regents, but considering their responses to the whole entire everything that got us into this mess in the first place, it seemed almost like the smart choice not to ask. Wydonia had proven itself more than willing to excise those who demanded more rights. As frustrating as these two were, as easy as it was to see them as collaborators from within Wydonia, they were, for all intents and purposes, the heads of the resistance within the country. Amethseryne was, in essence, a vassalized city-state, forbidden from expanding. I looked at Mellie. She seemed less annoyed, now, which was good. I doubted that she knew about the Court’s plans. Maybe she was pleasantly surprised? Her expression was hard to read.
Regardless, things would have to be said. And I was going to have to say them. I always hated this part in games. You couldn’t just quicksave and then choose the option that got the fewest “Your companion will remember that!” popups with a little negative mood modifier. Those were easy. You could just load and try again until you made the fewest people sad. But the big choices, the ones where the outcome wasn’t clear? Those were hard.
“Obviously,” I began, “the war has taken a turn. A dramatic one.” I paused, weighing again the decisions in front of me. How much of my intentions did I reveal? After all, I wanted their cooperation in the long term, and what they’d told me aligned with everything else I’d been told; the oppressive power structures that were in play in Wydonia permeated everywhere. But I couldn’t let on that I wasn’t the person they’d originally dealt with, or they might just order us all executed here and now.
“I am on the defensive,” I said. I felt it best to lead with painful honesty. The two Elf were completely unreadable all of a sudden, though their lack of mockery betrayed, to me, the fact that they were taking this seriously. “The Wydonian regents have staged a coup against the queen. I don’t believe things will be any better under their rule. I believe they’ll try to use the war as a way to tighten their grip on the population of Wydonia.” I nodded towards them. It seemed like a good idea to remind them that, to those regents, Amethseryne was very much a part of that population. “So I’m going to the capital myself,” I said. There were a lot of things implied in “I’m going to the capital,” many of which were violent in nature and none of which I was planning to implement, but that was none of their business.
“We are going to resolve the situation, and afterwards, the Elf will have access to their home… land… water?... again.”
They raised their eyebrows again. One of them began to scoff but the other tapped them on the arm. It was good to see that they had separate identities, at least.
“We shall observe your journey with interest, then, Queen Eliza, and we will not be in your way.” That was good to hear. “However, considering the current situation, we can not give you aid, you must understand. If we were to be seen collaborating with an enemy of the state I fear Amethseryne will not fare very well against the Wydonian military.” Grating tone of voice aside, they made a good, if frustrating point. We’d hoped for a bit of aid on our journey, at least. Heroes in stories always got help from the ‘noble elves,’ but it seemed that politics had gotten in the way.
“Where do we go from here, then? We’d hate to…” I paused. “Inconvenience you.”
The one who’d interrupted the other earlier laughed. Not a condescending laugh, but what seemed to be an expression of genuine surprised amusement. Usually, I’d be very happy to get that kind of a response from someone, but I was more than a little annoyed with my interactions with these two. Still, being on their good side was probably a good idea.
“Well, I’m afraid you’ve made things quite difficult for us by appearing so publicly, Queen Eliza. Several people saw you through the window. Word will get out to the capital that you’ve decided to head south, and then things will get, hmmm, I daresay a little hairy for you, I would think.”
I hadn’t thought of that. I should have thought of that. One of the others probably already had. I was about to ask something and then changed my mind.
“Quite a conundrum, yes?”
I really wanted to slap them.
“Our advice is that you travel northeast, head ‘round the Redwood, until you reach the Dergow, and then follow it southeast. It’ll take you a little while longer to get to your destination, but you’ll be away from, hmm, prying eyes, yes?”
I nodded. That seemed fair.
“And in return, we’ll give you, hmm, a twenty-four hour head start, how does that sound?”
“What?!”