Audience

Rosemary's cheeks flush, and she looks down, unable to meet Beatrice's gaze.

There's no need to be shy, Rosemary. It's quite a coup, catching the attention of a noble knight. Especially one as... as Alaric.(Beatrice)

Rosemary's breath hitches, her heart racing at Beatrice's touch. The lady's eyes seem to pierce straight through her, seeing into her very soul.

My lady, I... I don't know what you're talking about. Sir Alaric and I barely spoke. He was just... polite, that's all.(Rosemary)

Beatrice's smile falters slightly, a hint of something dark flashing in her eyes.

Polite, you say?(Beatrice)

Beatrice's expression softens slightly, and she drops her hand from Rosemary's chin. She takes a step back, her gaze lingering on the maid's face for a moment longer before she turns to leave.

Very well, Rosemary. I'll take your word for it. But remember, a maid in my household must maintain a certain level of decorum. I trust you'll keep your... encounters with Alaric professional and above board.(Beatrice)

With that, Beatrice exits the room, closing the door quietly behind her. Rosemary sinks back onto her bed, her heart still racing. She buries her face in her hands, trying to make sense of the strange conversations she's had today with the maids, with Sir Alaric, and now with Lady Beatrice.

As she sits there, lost in thought, a sudden realization hits her. Lady Beatrice's visit, her questions, her knowing smile... it's almost as if the lady knows something that Rosemary doesn't. Something about Sir Alaric, about the manor, about Rosemary herself.

...

The carriage rolls to a stop in front of the grand estate, the horses snorting and stamping their hooves. Alaric and Aerion descend from the vehicle, stretching their limbs after the long journey. The sun is just beginning to shine, casting a warm glow over the capital in early morning.

Alaric takes a deep breath, inhaling the familiar scent of the city a mix of horse manure, smoke, and the faint aroma of freshly baked bread. He glances at Aerion, a hint of weariness in his eyes.

It's good to be back. But I can't shake the feeling that our work is far from over.(Alaric)

Aerion nods in agreement, his hand resting on the hilt of his sword.

Indeed. Lady Beatrice's revelations about the ritual and the sacrifice... it changes everything.(Aerion)

...

Alaric and Aerion arrive at the castle, the grand building looming above them like a sentinel. They make their way through the familiar corridors, the sound of their footsteps echoing off the stone walls. As they approach the throne room, a page approaches them, bowing deeply.

The crown prince is expecting you, Sir Alaric and Sir Aerion. Please, follow me.(Guard)

The page leads them into the throne room, where the crown prince sits upon his room, his expression grave. He nods to the knights as they approach, his piercing gaze settling on Alaric.

Ah, Sir Alaric, Sir Aerion. I trust your journey was productive. Lady Beatrice's insights into the ritual and the sacrifice...have given us much to consider. (Prince)

The prince pauses, his brow furrowing thoughtfully.

I have summoned you here tonight to discuss a delicate matter. One that requires your utmost discretion and loyalty.(Prince)

Alaric and Aerion exchange a glance, their expressions turning serious. They bow deeply, their voices echoing through the throne room.

Your Highness, we are yours to command. Whatever you need, we shall do.(Aerion)

The prince nods, his gaze drifting to a door at the side of the throne room.

Very well. I have a... guest, who wishes to speak with you both. A person of great importance and influence. I trust you will treat them with the utmost respect and confidentiality.(Prince)

Alaric's curiosity piques, and he tilts his head slightly.

A guest, Your Highness? Who might this person be?(Alaric)