“Lady Constance, I’m very sorry, but this is a meeting of the lords of Wulfbauer, not the ladies.”
Constance didn’t budge, green eyes gazing levelly back at the head guard who’d barred her way into the Grand Hall where the lords of Wulbauer were gathering to discuss the deadly fallout of the Spring Ball. All, that was, except for Duke Therrien himself, who was still confined to bedrest for the injuries he’d sustained rescuing Lainey Kenins from the crumbling pavilion. Only a day and a half had passed since the disaster of the festival, and while their wives and children had, for the most part, been sent home, the lords remained behind. And Olive wanted to know why.
“In which every noble house should be represented,” Olive answered with a calm confidence that she didn’t completely believe herself. In moments like this, she always tried to channel her mother.
“Well, yes, m’lady, but..”
Olive raised her chin a little, keeping her gaze clear and level on the guard. Daring him to say out loud what they both knew was true: her house had fallen. The House of Carwick was a thing of the past. And, as she hoped, it was clear he could not. The guard, who had worked in the Keep since Olive had been a girl, deflated a little, shoulders slumping, and moved aside to let Olive pass. She waited until she’d entirely passed the guard before letting out a silent sigh of relief. She hadn’t been sure that would work or not. Olive was still testing the bounds of her influence - or the influence of her name and parentage - now that she was back in Wulfbauer. She wouldn’t push her luck now that she had made her way inside, though. The hall was full of mostly older lords and a tense, heavy atmosphere. Olive kept to the back of the hall where she’d be least likely to be noticed - and least likely to be escorted back out. And, for the most part, the lords ignored her; they were preoccupied talking amongst themselves, though one or two cast a long glance back her way. But no one bothered her. Olive sat tentatively a little way apart from the rest and waited, listening to what she could, until none other than Roland Kenins stood before the gathered lords and addressed the group. He was, of course, Chancellor, Olive thought, so this should be no surprise. But it still didn’t sit well with her.
“My lords,” he began, “a terrible tragedy befell Wulfbauer two days ago. I do not need to remind you of the details of the scene: Many dead, scores injured, and an unmeasured amount of damage done to the livelihood of the people.” Kenins took some more time outlining the very details he had just said he would not need to, to foment, no doubt, unease in the room. And it was certainly working. “The tragedy of the Spring Festival, that nearly took the life of my own wife and unborn child, is only the most recent in a string of calamities to befall our duchy in recent time. Let us not forget the fate of Valence,” this caused Olive to swallow uncomfortably, but no one looked back at her. If any suspected her part in the destruction of the village, or put blame on her, they did not show it now. All eyes were on Kenins. He continued to discuss at length various other misfortunes that beset Wulfbauer, from Valence to the long winter to poor crop yields and decreasing exports and the increase of highwaymen and petty crime in this time of war, all the way down to rumors of thieves let loose to pillage this very Keep. He was clearly building up to something. And that ‘thing’ was about to be revealed. “The time has come,” Kenins continue. Olive sat straight up on the edge of her seat, listening carefully, “to assess whether or not a steady, reliable hand has been guiding Wulfbauer. If these tragedies are the unavoidable consequences of a nation at war, or if they - even one - could have been prevented or mitigated by more thoughtful, firm, and clear-eyed leadership from our duke.”
An undercurrent of surprise and murmuring ran through the hall, but no one called out to interrupt Roland Kenins as he stood confidently before the assembled men. Olive’s eyes went wide. Was he suggesting…
“Therefore it is with a heavy heart that I bring forth the following notion… That it is time to discuss a vote of no confidence in Erwin Therrien as Duke of Wulfbauer.”
Now the room erupted in shock and talking. Still, no one made an immediate response. Roland Kenins let them talk, though, waiting patiently. He had just held up his hands for silence when a sudden thought occurred to Olive. She looked suddenly around, but no one had left their seat. No one, it seemed, saw fit to bring Erwin Therrien to this assembly. Silently, while the din continued, Olive got to her feet and slipped back to the door. The guard gave her a look, but opened the heavy wooden door to let her pass. In the empty hallway, Olive paused for only one moment, then ran down the corridor to Erwin’s quarters. By the time she made it to the other side of the Keep, she had to catch her breath. Two guards were posted outside of Erwin’s room, and immediately crossed their halberds over the door when they saw Constance approach.
“Sorry, m’lady, but we’re under strict orders that only Artem and Lord Kenins are to disturb the Duke.”
“From whom?” Olive asked immediately, straightening herself up to her full height and regarding the guards with as much authority as she could muster. But they only exchanged glances between them. Clearly they were clearly also under strict orders not to say ‘from whom’ they received the first. “Well, in that case, your orders from me are to stand aside. If you do not know who your ‘strict orders’ are from, my word supercedes yours.”
This was an unfamiliar role for Olive, but she knew what might ride on her getting through, so she kept herself puffed up straight and tall and proud.
“I’m sorry, m’lady, but we have word from--”
She didn’t risk letting him finish, cutting in sternly, “From Lady Carwick, telling you to open the door.” For a long moment, they held each other’s gaze. But like before, it was the guard who backed down. Slowly, they cleared the path and opened the door to let her pass through. Somewhat less ladylike, Olive scurried through the open door, then looked back and added as authoritarianly as she could, “Close it.” And they did.
For just half a moment, she stood there as though she couldn’t believe what she just got away with. But only that half moment. Then Olive hurried to Erwin’s bed. “Come on, you have to get up. You have to come through to the Great Hall,” she said rapidly, giving Erwin a shake before even really checking if he was awake or not. “I can help you walk or dress or whatever. But… I think your chancellor is staging a coup.”
