Chapter 55

Expectations

“I want you to go to the Holy Land as Brigent’s ambassador.”


What had he just said? Llewellyn couldn't believe her ears. Besides, how was this related to him keeping his promise to let her meet Alpheus? After trying to organise her thoughts, she asked calmly,

“Do you wish to bring me to the negotiating table in order to help restore trade relations with Thessaly?”

"That’s right. The mediation will happen on neutral grounds, and I want you to oversee it for me. The negotiations will be held at a trading post located in a pacific city in the Holy Land.”

“Oh my..."

“As you know very well, Thessaly is a country renowned for its art. Home to many great architects, not to mention its beautiful fabrics and the myriad of works of art Thessalian artists have produced across the ages.”

“…”

“In truth, Brigent cut off the trade route with Thessaly because of what happened with the late queen. That's the reason why we are currently importing poor quality wares from the Kingdom of Crete at unreasonably high prices. If all goes well, this could be an opportunity to resume trade with Thessaly.”

Celine was wrong. Bastian was learning most proficiently, if a bit slowly. He was using some happenstance as a pretext to push his political agenda. Which was, in fact, the very essence of politics.

Scratching his head, Bastian hesitantly added,

“Well actually, that’s what I initially envisaged to do haha, but it might sound like a terrible plan to you.”

“Not at all…” assured Llewellyn, shaking her head.

Bastian grinned and continued.

“I reckon Thessaly will be of the same mind. Indeed, it is my understanding that, in spite of being the nation of Art, its economy is greatly suffering from having to import food from other countries. I’m sure they’ll be most inclined to resume trade with us.”

“…”

“We will ask Thessaly to bring Alpheus to the negotiations.”

"I beg your pardon?!"

Llewellyn was so startled that she had jumped from her seat without realising it. Had she heard wrong? Had Bastian really said that he would ask them to bring Alpheus? Meaning that she would be able to meet her little brother?! Was he really keeping his promise to her?

“It is merely an informal appeal, so don’t expect too much from it. But even if Alpheus doesn't come, if we manage to restore trades with Thessaly, you’ll have a better chance at meeting him in the future…” explained Bastian, awkwardly.

"Oh Brother!"

Llewellyn was so moved that she threw herself at Bastian, who was still sitting, and hugged him tightly. Bastian shivered, surprised by the sudden gesture. Tears were flowing from Llewellyn's eyes as her arms wrapped around his neck, her heart pounding.

"Thank you. Oh Brother…thank you so much."

Bastian's cerulean eyes turned as big as saucers, before a shadow fell over his face as he slightly lowered his head. Like the rising moon on a serene night, there was a faint light gleaming in his eyes.

As she embraced Bastian, Llewellyn reflected on their situation. His lineage didn’t matter to her, and besides, she couldn’t care less if he was unqualified to be king. Wasn’t he doing everything he could for her sake? She could never deliberately endeavour to undermine him.

Bastian winced in Llewellyn's arms. Then, very carefully, like a boy afraid to stain something precious, he placed his hand on her back.

“I’m glad this makes you happy.”

“…”

“I may be lacking in many aspects, but for you, I will try my best.”

Llewellyn smiled brightly. Bastian, as if bewitched, could not detach his eyes from her face. She was so elated, that she didn't even notice when his body started getting warmer against her touch. Or that his face had taken a crimson hue.

*

“Princess.”

"Yes?"

“You seem to be in a good mood, did something happen?”

“As a matter of fact, yes.”

Llewellyn grinned as she opened the cage to take Coco, before perching the bird on her wrist. The clever creature, sensing that its owner was happy, rubbed its face against her chin. Llewellyn smiled and kissed the bird's round forehead.

Tristan stared at her as if he was beholding some oddity, which caused Llewellyn to think about how strange her behaviour must seem to him. He probably thought her a simpleton. Yes, most certainly. Her face turned red at the thought. Come on, it’s not like she was roaming around, acting like a fool, either.

Deeming that an explanation was in order, Llewellyn said softly,

“…I was told that I might be able to meet my brother soon.”

As she spoke, a smile came back to her face. The mere possibility of uttering these words was enough to bring her joy. Ever so taciturn, Tristan's face was puckered in a grim set, to the point that Llewellyn could hardly presume what he must be thinking. His standoffish air was starting to make her feel a bit self conscious…Why wasn’t he saying anything?

"Why? Is it weird that I’m smiling?”

"That…”

Tristan was taken aback by Llewellyn's coy demeanour.

“Does it make me look foolish?”

“I assure you that’s not the case at all.”

“Then why are you being like this?”she asked with a grumble, feeling a bit embarrassed.

Llewellyn cleared her throat. She had always abhorred using her status as a way to trample on others, hence why, since she had known him, she had tried to act without pretence in front of her escort knight. To think that she was feeling bashful over such a trivial matter and had gotten annoyed at Tristan…It wasn’t like her at all.

Seeing Llewellyn's expression, a sombre shadow fell over Tristan's face. He seemed to be lost in thought for a moment, before opening his mouth to explain,

"The truth is you…you look lovely. I merely didn’t know how to voice it”

"Pardon?"

L-lovely he had said?

“Well it might be presumptuous of me to use such an attribute. Please forgive my impudence."

“…”

‘Does he think I look pretty?’ At the thought, Llewellyn's cheeks flushed crimson, showing no signs of cooling down.

No one had ever called her lovely. It was a word that even Almondite, whom she had believed would one day become her future husband, had never used with her. Even her parents hadn’t called her that.

‘I guess even I can have someone who finds me lovely.’ Llewellyn looked at Tristan with a puzzled expression, although he seemed to misunderstand her confusion for something else.

"Forgive me for speaking out of turn. I know how rude it was of me, especially since you are my superior.”

If it hadn’t been him but a different knight, Llewellyn would probably have gotten angry. So why wasn’t it the case when it came to Tristan? Instead, she was just happy that he found her pretty. Hearing this word for the first time had brought joy to Llewellyn.

“Your Highness?”

“Sir Jayad, there is no need to apologise.”

“…”

“I forgive you.”

Nonetheless, it would be too mortifying to let him know just how happy his words had made her. It hurt her pride that people might sense just how much she yearned to be loved. So instead, she pretended to forgive him.

In truth, all she wanted was to thank him, and tell him that, on the contrary, his compliment had meant a lot to her. But instead, looking at the chick with a soft smile, she commented,

“Coco has grown a lot.”

“That’s because fledgings develop quickly.”

Even so, the little bird had grown to the size of a dove now, which was enough for it to feel heavy when it sat on her wrist or shoulder.

“This little fellow is quite astute, even for a Horus.”

“Coco?”

"Yes. Because it’s able to recognize its owner. Apply this on your neck.”

Llewellyn looked at the pink vial he held out to her. Wondering what its use could be, she extracted a bit of the decoction and applied it to her throat. Coco squealed and rubbed its body against her neck.

"What is it?"

"It's an imprinting essence."

“Imprinting essence?”

“It is an ointment made specifically for Horuses. Now that you’ve applied some on yourself, this fellow will be able to find you anywhere, even if you were to travel to a foreign country.”

"How wondrous…”

Llewellyn looked at Coco with an enthusiastic expression.

“Give this unguent to someone you regularly send letters to. But bear in mind that its effect will wear off after three months.”

"I see, it’s duly noted."

Did he mean that a fledging as small as a dove was already capable of delivering letters? Granted that Coco had grown quite a bit since it’d been in her care, growing out of its pin feathers, a brown aigrette now crowning its head. The sharp-eyed bird leaned against Llewellyn, trying its darnedest to look adorable.

“Well then, Sir Tristan, you should apply some too.”

"Your Highness?"

"So that I can put his skills to the test by sending you a letter."

Tristan stared at the pink vial Llewellyn held out to him for a long time, before applying some to his neck too. Coco made a disapproving noise and burrowed deeper into Llewellyn's arms, shaking its head.

“Coco does not seem to be very fond of you.” commented Llewellyn, bursting into laughter.

The baby bird croaked in delight at the sound of its owner’s merriment. Tristan pondered as he watched the trained and fierce Horus shamefully pretending to be a cute little chick. Normally, Horuses were birds that only a select few within the Zakat people were able to handle.

While they were considered precious thanks to their sagacity, they were also as difficult to tame as they were ferocious and clever. Even Tristan had originally thought that the bird would first need thorough domestication when he gave it to Llewellyn. However the bird had promptly submitted to the princess, as if immediately recognizing her as its master.

It was really strange, to say the least. The proud animal was following Llewellyn like it would his mother, his cutesy act on full display. To think of the hell the little fledgling had given him when he had first brought him here...With a serious expression, Tristan flippantly commented,

“Seeing its reaction, I can’t help but think that the legend must be true after all.”

“What legend?”

The chick was still clinging onto Llewellyn.

“It is quite rare for such a young Horus to already be giving its allegiance to someone. Horuses usually choose their master once they are fully matured, after being rigorously tamed when they are still nestlings. But seeing as such a young bird is already a staunch follower of yours, my best guess is that Your Highness being a descendant of the Golden Raven might be the reason behind this anomaly.”

“…”

“Since the Golden Raven used to be king among the birds.”

‘Even if that were the case, what use would it be?’ Thought Llewellyn bitterly, as she stroked Coco's beak.

*

Upon entering her quarters, Llewellyn was informed that Armandite was already waiting for her. She had the adjoining apartments arranged in order to welcome the foreign envoys during their diplomatic visits, but it seemed that the surveillance was already too lax. As soon as she entered the parlour, Llewellyn spotted Armandite.

He was wearing an olive jacket embroidered with silver threads. His auburn hair looked slightly dishevelled, meaning that his visit was likely prompted by some urgent matter. The man, however, appeared relaxed, his chin resting on top of his interlaced hands.

Whenever he was brooding some unpleasant thoughts, he would look like that. Llewellyn approached him, an ominous feeling creeping in her chest. Finally registrering her presence, Armandite, in lieu of greetings, abruptly stated,

“I reckon this could be a trap.”

"What are you talking about?"

“You are Bastian’s direct opponent. Do you truly think he would spare you?”

What nonsense was he uttering? Llewellyn frowned before looking at Armandite with a bewildered expression. What had prompted such thought? So suddenly at that!

“Llewellyn, I’ll go to the negotiations. So you don’t need…”

“What on earth are you talking about?”

The reason why Llewellyn had conceded talking to Armandite in her drawing room today, was because she wanted to ask him to keep quiet about Bastian's birth. But now, he wanted to prevent her from attending the trade resumption meeting with Thessaly?

“Don’t you try to come between my brother and me.”

“That wasn’t my intention.”

“Then what is this about?”

“If it wasn’t for Bastain, do you really think Pamela would agree to leave you alone? The Red Knights are still investigating the assassination attempt that took place during the founding banquet, and yet, there are still no conclusive results. Pamela is the kind of schemer who would skillfully design such plot in order to get rid of any loose ends. Namely, the most dangerous kind."

Shaking her head, Llewellyn retorted,

"I don't care."

“…”

"Don't you know how ardently I wish to see Alpheus?"

She didn’t give a rip if she were to die in the process. Was he really trying to prevent their meeting, even while knowing the very reason she decided to go to the monastery? Looking at Armandite, Llewellyn continued,

“Besides, I wish to see the Thessalians. I want to meet the people of my mother’s country.”

“…”

“I don’t care if it’s a trap. What if it's one? If I end up dying, then so be it.”

“Llewellyn!”

Aramandite raised an eyebrow and lowered his tone, which did little to unsettle Llewellyn who remained unmoved by Armandite’s stern expression. She would finally be able to see her younger brother. If she didn’t grab this chance while it presented itself, she might very well not get another opportunity in the future. She reckoned Alpheus might be missing her just as much as she was missing him.

It didn't even matter if Alpheus ended up not coming. She intended to ask the Thessalians if Alpheus was all right. If she managed to successfully conduct these negotiations, the diplomatic relationship between the two countries would improve to some degree, which would in turn increase her odds of meeting Alpheus later.

Her only purpose in life was to be reunited with her little brother. But Armandite somehow always seemed to press her to do things she’d rather not, while blatantly disregarding the things that truly mattered to her.

“What if he doesn’t miss you?”

"What?"

“What if the prince has already forgotten you? After all, he was only ten when he was sent away.”

“Ten is old enough to remember that much!” cried out Llewellyn.

At that age, Alpheus had been extremely fond of his older sister. Surely he couldn’t have forgotten her that easily? At Llewellyn's distress, Armandite closed his eyes.

“Armandite, you truly are awful.”

“…”

“You think I’m being irrational, right? Well I don’t care if you do, go ahead. But don’t you dare mock me, you have no idea how agonising those five years have been for me.”

“…”

“That day, I lost everything.”

She had lost her entire family. Her own father, a man she shared blood with, had mistreated her for years and even gone along with Pamela's abuse. Everything had gone awry since then, and the only reason she had kept holding on was because of Alpheus and the promise of one day reuniting with him.

Beyond the Holy Land and across the Great Salt Sea lay a small country. The beautiful country of the Arts, where food might be scarce but jewels abounded. The land where her mother had been born : Thessaly. Knowing that Alpheus was living there warmed Llewellyn's cold heart, allowing her to keep going in spite of her crippling solitude.

But Almandite was ignorant of that fact. Since he, too, had chosen to abandon her.

“Llewellyn. I am sorry."

"What?"

"I am truly sorry, Llewellyn.”

Llewellyn's eyes twitched. He had never apologised before, not even once. And now, out of the blue, he was feeling repentant? She sure was taken aback by the sudden apology.

“I'll help you meet Alpheus. Even if I die, I will ensure that you meet that child. So please."

“…”

"Please."

‘Has he ever begged like this before?’ wondered Llewellyn, her eyes widening in shock.

No matter how many times he showed himself in front of her, Armandite had always been the paragon of the aristocratic gentleman. To think that such a proper and usually collected man would be apologising and begging her like that...all while trying to keep her from meeting Alpheus.

Was this man apologising to her as a ruse to bridle her excitement, in hopes of controlling her actions? Slowly, anger welled up in Llewellyn's heart.

“It’s rather late for an apology, don’t you think?!”

“…”

“Perhaps you should have started by saying how sorry you were to have left me alone, or for having betrayed me, yes that would have been a good start. But no, here you are now, finally apologising only in order to stop me from going to meet Alpheus!”

“…”

“And you expect me to accept such an apology? Am I a joke to you?!” screamed out Llewellyn.

Armandite looked at her as tears were flowing out from her eyes, a hard expression on his face.

She realised that she, in fact, truly desired an apology. To hear that he was sorry to have left her alone, and that he would promise to stay by her side from now on. Yes, it suddenly dawned on her that she very much wanted him to say those things.

When she had been called ‘lovely’, albeit embarrassed at first, she had also felt something strangely resembling happiness.

And as Armandite apologised to her, Llewellyn realised what she truly yearned for. All she wanted was a sincere apology! She couldn’t believe how silly she was. What would demanding an apology now change? It was meaningless.

“Get out, Armand.”

“…”

“Don’t show your face in front of me ever again.”

*

Llewellyn remained where she stood, her face pale. No matter how much she had distinguished herself by solving the case of the purple dress, she was still a derelict princess. And because of that fact, the size of the party that came to see her off was dolefully small.

“Have a safe trip.”

Bastian smiled brightly as Llewellyn mustered a wan smile. So what if her send-off was shabby? She could still pride herself on having the king attending it.

“Thank you for making this happen, Brother.”

"Well, I merely fulfilled the promise I made to you."

Bastian smiled shyly before cautiously wrapping his hands around Llewellyn’s. His skin was cold.

"I’ll get going now."

After a brief farewell to Bastian, Llewellyn approached the carriage. Standing in front of it, she saw Tristan walking toward her.

Chapter end