Fallen Queen (Mariposa Book 1)

by Y. R. Shin

  Even though he only intended to wash up and dress in the simplest form that was still respectable, for he could not show the evidence of the days of journey in the presence of the king, a fair amount of time had passed.

  His feet maneuvered through the complicated corridors of the palace and the roads stretched out like a maze, then came to a stop. The guards before the massive door to the throne room of Norte Hall, the place that was said to have the coldest throne in the world, recognized Paseid, blew their horns, and opened the door.

  “Paseid Calandok Brionake, the son of the red wolf, the head of Palan Sholgo, and His Grace the only duke.”

  The throne room that was buzzing with the already arrived guests’ discussions fell silent at once as he entered. Paseid’s black eyes grew calm at the cool air of the throne room rushing toward him.

  King Terendoke was sitting at the end of the seemingly infinite red carpet, and Prime Minister Laperovahan and Marquis Toulsio from the east were standing on either side of him. Paneche, a well-known scholar of diplomatic science with a skilled tongue, also from the east, and Count Chesa, the commander of the knights of the capital, were standing opposite them.

  “The wolf of the northwest has arrived.”

  Terendoke’s clearly irritated voice greeted him. Paseid briefly gazed at the man with dark-brown hair wearing a pure white garment, then walked along the carpet. Once he reached the first step leading to the throne, he bent his left knee.

  “Greetings, Your Majesty. Paseid Calandok Brionake, the lord duke, has come at Your Majesty’s calling.”

  “Yes. First, rise.”

  “Yes, Your Majesty.”

  “Thank you for coming at such short notice. It is only right that you be greeted with a feast after this long a time, but we will first start with the meeting, as this is a pressing time.”

  Terendoke’s voice became a bit calmer. But his eyes, as blue as Sichin’s ocean, still flashed with complicated displeasure.

  Paseid stood up and stood at the left of the lowest step. Prime Minister Laperovahan, who was standing on the right, made a light gesture to say hello when their eyes met. Paseid reluctantly responded with a nod.

  The discussion that had been briefly cut off because of Paseid’s entrance started again.

  “I hear the Galkamas’ invasion has become more vigorous and that you are hard at work. I hope I have not inconvenienced you at a busy time.”

  “No, Your Majesty.”

  “Well, I am not unaware that you are doing well on your own.”

  Terendoke seemed more displeased than usual. He scrunched up his lips, then made a flicking movement with his fingers above the armrest. “This summoning was rather abrupt because I determined that discussing the diplomatic discord within the empire with you was necessary. To the point, then. I’m sure you have heard about the empire’s perverse acts. What exactly do you know?”

  “Only what I heard from the night wolf you sent me and the contents of your letter, Your Majesty.”

  “Gilloheim, explain.”

  “Yes, Your Majesty.”

  Gilloheim was the name of Prime Minister Laperovahan. He bowed his head and ensued with his explanation.

  “Half a year ago, the empire demanded tributes, tributary women, and laborers from Rarke and the neighboring kingdoms. It was not just Rarke. According to the rumors, they have relayed that imperial order to the minorities living within the empire by borrowing land—Angredium, Saligar, the principality of Illaren in the north, and even Vayn. Most of the southern countries have an intimate relationship with the empire, so it makes sense, but it is preposterous to take such an oppressive attitude toward Rarke. So, we sent ambassadors to express this injustice and request a remodification.”

  Paseid locked eyes with Prime Minister Laperovahan for a moment, then nodded. “Yes, Prime Minister. I have heard that you went yourself with Paneche and Marquis Toulsio to rectify the inappropriate demand.”

  Paseid had left the capital at the time to stop the frequent invasions of outside tribes in his land in the countryside in the northwest, but that didn’t mean he had gone deaf. The reports from Brionake’s spies scattered all over the continent allowed him to have a rough estimation of the current situation.

  “Then is this due to the empire’s demands still not being rectified?”

  Marquis Toulsio, who was standing glumly with a pale face, nodded at Paseid’s question. Terendoke raised the hand not being used to support his chin. “Belja, show the lord duke.”

  The servant who was standing by handed Paseid an extremely crumpled letter. The letter with the roaring lion seal was from Morgana.

  Paseid could feel Terendoke’s rage at his fingertips.

  Brionake, Terendoke Ranfel.

  Forgetting the mercy the empire has shown you thus far is truly unfortunate. A dog daring to bite a lion will be killed by the lion, so beware. The empire’s magnanimity of striving to guard the laws of the continent will show one final mercy. The crime of disobeying will be punished by expulsion of the name of your country. If you mean to atone for your crimes, bow down. Olzore is always open to you. If not, only the sharp blade will be aimed at you.

  Belrevirehein II Rahdos Sharl Loare Mohgan Morgania.

  Veins bulged out from the back of Paseid’s hands as he read the letter from introduction to conclusion. Not a single section was not a provocation. All but Terendoke looked down.

  “Expulsion of the name of our country does not quite make sense,” Prime Minister Laperovahan muttered.

  It was absolutely preposterous. Though it was indeed the only empire on the continent, the north and the south had clearly distinct roots. From Rarke’s point of view, it did not matter what Morgana did to countries of the south like Saligar, Vayn, and Angredium. But if they meant to rule as the suzerain of Rarke as well, that changed things.

  “Not only that, but Marquis Toulsio and Paneche have also said that they have met the descendent of the traitor. Tell us that story, Marquis.”

  Marquis Toulsio stepped forward, rubbing his long, braided beard. He was a man from Gania, a place known to still be retaining most of the customs of Gideraka of the east.

  “Yes, we have met him. Though we only saw his face from afar.”

  Marquis Toulsio’s brusque answer was followed by the explanation from Paneche, a man who had sharp, narrow eyes and a rather fierce-looking, protruding nose. “As I heard while we were staying at Thrush Street, where the administrative matters of Morgana are said to be processed, he is encouraging the emperor and influencing him by supporting the construction to extend the imperial palace. I do not know how much Belrevirehein II trusts that man, but even so, there is talk that he has had a blatant dispute with Duke Zordia, the man known to be the most reasonable in the southern empire, over a related topic.”

  House Zordia was one of the greatest powers existing in the southern empire. And the current Duke Zordia was a cousin of Belrevirehein II and was once famous for being one of his close advisors, but he was now showing skepticism of the southern empire’s dictatorial government, or something like that. Though there was not much exchange, Paseid had heard the name once or twice.

  Count Rougak Chesa, who was quietly staying in his place and twitching his graying eyebrows, pounded his chest once like he was frustrated. “I am sure he is the cause.”

  Not daring to throw the letter addressed to the king on the ground, Paseid handed it back to the servant. His voice was rigid, like he was spitting out something bitter. “Mariposa.”

  When he spoke the name they had been furtively avoiding, the faces of those listening grew glum.

  “Do you mean that man, Balroid Iserse, Peijak Mariposa?”

  Mariposa. It was an unwelcomed and shameful name.

  The house of a traitor who deserted his duties and kneeled before Morgana to officially throw Rarke’s dignity in the dirt. It had happened two hundred years ago and now that house had completely made its place in Morgana as one of the fifteen central
houses, but Rarke did not forget.

  Especially when they thought of today’s Count Mariposa. Whatever their lives in the south were like, it hadn’t been even ten years since he’d started to be talked about. Balroid Iserse Mariposa, who had purged all the moderate relatives related to his house as soon as the former Count Mariposa died and become the head of the house at a young age, had taken the name of Peijak, and made himself known in Rarke.

  When they first heard the news, the Rarkians had gnashed their teeth. He should’ve known to be ashamed of himself for running away to the south. How dare he give himself the name of the traitor? The name Peijak could not welcomed by Morgana, either. It was a name of the northern prince who had once tried to destroy them.

  As the south was massive, it was inundated with various nobilities, and the imperial family of Morgana had a duty to be responsible for the south’s disorder to effectively reign under the title of an empire. This was the reason the south had strict prohibitions on establishing private armies, unlike the north, where the establishment of private armies was relatively accepted.

  Among them, the Mariposas had been an exception because they used a loophole in the laws and identified themselves as a mercenary company rather than a private army. They subsisted for two hundred years as a house of brute force that volunteered to take care of the imperial family’s dirty business. It was only a matter of course for the Morganaan imperial family to regulate Mariposa.

  According to the rumors, the north had also been thrown into a racket when Balroid first announced the change to his name, and even the current emperor, Belrevirehein II, had summoned him by force.

  But instead of a reflection and a rectification of his action, Count Balroid Mariposa had compared Belrevirehein II to Valarjeff I, the greatest man in the history of the continent, who had elevated Morgana to an empire and confused the world once more by officially pledging his loyalty.

  Whether it was because he was satisfied with Mariposa or because there was some deal happening under the table, the incident of Count Mariposa’s changing of his name had petered out. Belrevirehein II had even officially approved his new name after publicly announcing that he had an upright will and firm loyalty. Even if one tried to think kindly, it was a blatant mockery directed at Rarke.

  The Rarkians had not stayed quiet at the time. When the name they had shamefully buried came back alive, a fraction of the Rarkians who were in Morgana drew their swords in rage. A couple secret agents were discovered in the process and were executed.

  Now that Paseid thought about it, it had probably started then. The beginning of the tension and tightly packed away animosity between Morgana and Rarke spilling over the edges.

  Paseid suppressed his surging enmity. “We cannot respond to them. Rarke is not a subject of Morgana.”

  “He is right,” Count Rougak Chesa agreed. “There is no reason for us to suffer the tyranny of the empire that even Vayn escaped.”

  “Lord Duke, that is why we have invited you here,” Prime Minister Laperovahan answered Rougak.

  “Do you not think that we cannot turn a blind eye to them anymore, since their intentions are obvious? We hastily invited you to ask for Palan Sholgo’s agreement.”

  Palan Sholgo. That was the title of the head of the royalist Palan party.

  Paseid raised his head to study Terendoke’s face. He had an overwhelming hunch.

  Prime Minister Laperovahan drove the nail into the coffin. “Why else would Count Chesa and Marquis Toulsio be here?”

  Count Chesa and the old Marquis Toulsio, who had been remaining silent all the while, bowed their heads.

  Paseid fixed his eyes on Terendoke. The four elements required to form the atmosphere of a war were all already established. Morgana’s threat was underlined by their soldiers, the Rarkians’ by their will to resist enemies. And the hope and expectant uncertainty that they might win this time, washing away the shame from the past, and the incendiary will that encouraged conflict.

  “Have you decided so already, Your Majesty?”

  “We are only waiting for your decision, Lord Duke.”

  Terendoke glared at the letter from Morgana in the servant’s hands like he was about to rip it apart, then answered Paseid’s gaze in a more relaxed tone than expected. “The time has come to pay them back. What do you say, Lord Duke?”

  Jacalrin’s brisk footsteps echoed in the hallway. Realizing that the walls of the mansion were now painted over with dark murals, he whistled.

  The painting was in a dark and glum style, not at all aligned with the sight of warm sunlight filling the hallway. It was probably according to the prime minister’s taste. As this was the mansion of an overwhelmingly rich prime minister’s house, it was quite an entertainment to just look at the decorations and carpets and such that changed every time he visited.

  His speed of walking was rather inconsiderate to the maid of the Laperovahans following him, and he slowed down by a wink when he reached the hallway on the third floor, then finally came to a stop in front of a door in the center of the hall. Jacalrin carelessly knocked on the door.

  “Yo, I’m coming in!”

  Innocently glancing at the out-of-breath maid panting and running after him, Jacalrin swung open the door without even waiting for an answer.

  “Elhien, did you hear? Today …”

  The room suddenly became chaotic. The very first greeting he received was a clamor of a group of women nearly screaming.

  “Er…”

  Jacalrin was just as flustered at the sight that revealed itself behind the door.

  “Sir Chesa, you cannot just barge in like that!” The maids let out flurried grunts.

  Elhien, who was still in her underwear while getting the help of the wardrobe maids to put on a heavy dress, saw him and turned white.

  “You, you, you…!”

  The startled maid hastily covered her.

  Jacalrin soon changed his flustered expression and rubbed his chin. He scanned Elhien, standing behind the maid from head to toe, with his light-green eyes. Then, he saw the various dresses laid out on the bed and the wardrobe maid’s arms and grinned innocently.

  “How much are you planning on wearing this time?”

  “Get out!”

  Jacalrin quickly closed the door when a hair accessory suddenly flew at him. Right after the door closed with a loud bang, he heard the sound of something hitting the door with great force.

  After a short while, Jacalrin looked down at Elhien, who was refusing to even look at him like she was still angry. He scratched the back of his head.

  “You should’ve locked the door properly.”

  “Do I have to lock the door of my own home now?”

  “I’m sorry. But it didn’t even occur to me that you might be getting up now and changing when it’s already midday. I forgot you’re lazy.”

  “It’s not that I’m lazy…! Wait, are you saying that you haven’t done anything wrong?”

  Elhien blushed like she was about to explode. Realizing that her mistress was in a particularly bad mood right now, the maid who was straightening the lace flowing on the purple silk dress quickly stepped back.

  But Jacalrin, the one who’d actually made her mad, sat at the table without even asking for permission and sneered. “So, you’re not lazy, but you were just changing into different dresses all day, hmm? You did hear that he’s coming, didn’t you? Gosh, women.”

  Elhien ignored him and answered in a calmer tone. “I knew way before you did. It’s only right to be properly dressed when I’m seeing him after such a long time.’

  “You don’t look good in purple. No matter how many times you change, you just look like a kid!”

  “Jacalrin!”

  “Wouldn’t it be proper to address me as ‘sir,’ since I’ve been ordained?”

  “I’ll treat you like a knight when you act like one. I can almost hear Count Chesa sighing because of you. I feel sorry for him.”

  Jacalrin, who was sitt
ing with his arm hanging limp like a sloth’s, glared at Elhien fiercely. Elhien held her chin up and smiled, like she was quite happy with that response.

  “Right at my weak spot. If only I could just smack that little thing,” Jacalrin said, shaking his head.

  “Even if I weren’t a little thing, you can’t lay a single hand on me.”

  He rolled his eyes. “Please, the daughter of a prime minister is not all that fancy-schmancy.”

  “It is fancy-schmancy, thank you. Where did you even learn to speak like a good-for-nothing?”

  Reading a sign of excitement in her eyes, Jacalrin gave up on responding and rested his chin on his hand. “Are you that happy?”

  “Are you going to stay in my room? Shouldn’t you be somewhere?”

  Cheeky girl.

  She might not have been that excited about having Jacalrin around because she already had a male sibling who was more than twenty years older than her and hence had already moved out, but Jacalrin was quite fond of her, since he only had Kalajesh as a sibling.

  On top of that, because House Chesa had a more frequent exchange with House Laperovahan, for they were neutral, Elhien and Jacalrin were like friends. Having a father as great as the prime minister of a country, Elhien held her chin high and acted rather childishly with him at times, but that was not that big a problem for Jacalrin, who was very generous to “insolence.”

  “Did he contact you to meet some time?” he asked her. “Seemed like he was already in the palace.”

  “No, he didn’t, but he’s a busy man.”

  Jacalrin shook his head.

  Elhien had been arranged to be Paseid’s wife ever since she started to walk properly. So, it might be only right for her to love Paseid. But to think that she had been doing this since early morning was…what was the word?

  “You poor thing.”

  “Me? Why?”

  “You try so hard, but for what? A woman is most attractive when she is hard to get, you know. A man burns with love when a woman turns him down at least ten times when he tries to court her. But you’re just putting yourself on a silver platter for him to take at his disposal. No wonder he doesn’t see you as a woman.”