Decoy

I stand between the closed portcullis and the draw bridge. The clanking of chains and creak of wood is heard as the bridge descends to the ground. Marcus stands behind me. I know that it is useless to bring one guard into a pack of thousands of the enemy, but it reassures me to have him by my side. He is carrying a sack with the treaty, as well as blank paper, ink, and a quill to write another draft with. I also chose to bring along the letter from my father as proof of my power to make such a deal.

With the bridge down I cross into the lion's den. Each step brings me to my death. I know that surrender is life for my people and death for myself. My heart beats in time with the thump of my shoes. When grass cushions the sound of my footsteps, I am surrounded. Men in cloaks encircle me. None have bothered to wear breast plates or any other type of armor. Clearly I am no threat. The man directly in front of me appears to be the leader, but I catch a glace he casts to a soldier to my right. I consciously don't turn to see who he has received a signal from, but I note the position to check at a less conspicuous time.

"We were expecting the Duke of Villefranche. Who are you?"

"I am his daughter Lady Pierrette-Danielle of Villefranche. I have come to speak with Prince Clement-Victor of Varzy. I will explain the situation only to him." I look around as if I am speaking to the entire group. While doing so I clock the true leader. He is on the taller end, with shoulder length dark hair and prominent features. He is broad with toned muscles. He dresses plainly, like any other man here, but something about his aura is regal. I look away in my scan of the group. Out of the corner of my eye I see his affirmative signal.

"Very well, follow me." The men move in unison herding me. Marcus stays a few steps behind me, protecting the slight train of my dress from being trampled by the men. I remain dignified and domineering, despite my trepidation.

We walk through the tents to the one of the largest. The canvas is dyed red. When we enter the red casts a strange pigment over everything inside, making them all a shade of red. There is a throne in the back of the tent, facing the entrance. To one side is a large table, but those are the only furniture to be found.

A man sits on the throne, lazily leaning back. He is garbs in expensive dies, and thick firs. I It is still cold, with spring nigh upon us, so his choice of fur will be for status and warmth. He appears comfortable in his position, but something is off in the image. May he is overselling the seat as his.

When I enter the man on the throne throws a confused glance at the same man the captain had, although he is more discreet about it. The man is behind me, but I am sure that he gives an affirmation to proceed, as the man and the throne doesn't argue our presence.

The men around me disperse to various corners of the room. I note the position of the man before takes the optimal position to watch my reactions as well as give signals to the decoy on the throne. I suppress my grin as a plan forms.

I kneel before the man on the throne, being careful not crush my dress. I am decisive with every move, making the bow a sign of respect instead of a theatrical performance. I bow as low as possible with my forehead pressing against the dirt floor. Marcus follows my lead.

"Your Highness, Prince Clement-Victor of Varzy, my name is Lady Pierrette-Danielle of Villefranche, eldest daughter of Duke Jean-Claude of Villefranche. Marcus my personal knight has accompanied me."

"Was you father so fainthearted that he sent a little rabbit like you to face me in his place?" I smile at the insult to my father and decide to take it a step further.

"No, when he learned of your Highness at our gates, he was so spineless he fled. He did so 11 days ago, leaving the Dukedom of Villefranche in my hands. I meet you today as the ruler of Villefranche with authority to make decisions concerning its future." There is a pause while glances are exchanged in an unseen communication.

"You have brothers. Shouldn't the power go to them?"

"Yes, but the Duke is such an accommodating father that he brought them along with the Duchess, and their daughters."

"Do you have proof of this claim."

"Yes, your majesty." I gracefully stand, turning to Marcus. He pulls out the letter from my father. I pull off the seal from my finger to present as well. I step forward but turn to the side. I bow at a 90-degree angle to the true prince, holding out the two items. "Your Highness, Prince Clement-Victor of Varzy, here is the letter my father left upon his departure as well as the seal of Villefranche." He smirks. The left side of his lips are higher than his right I note, bemused. My gamble worked.