Chapter 80 – Poisoning an Old F*ck
The summon for Elana’s presence came immediately. Just as she stepped through the door, the head maid waited for her and informed her of her father’s orders.
“I will be there as soon as I change the dress,” She vaguely gestured at herself. Elana suspected the other prince would also be there and wanted to delay a bit more.
The return had been quicker than Elana had expected. The coachman had rushed through the city like a madman, almost hitting pedestrians several times. She still had a bit before the sunset.
Tomorrow, Elana had to do the last preparations before the summit. She wanted to rest properly and hoped her father would not make her suffer for too long.
Under the head maid’s scrutinising look, Elana marched towards her room. Once there, she changed into a more reserved dress that didn’t emphasise her breasts as much.
After taking the tampered vine from Cinthia’s hands, Elana knew it was time to meet her father. She found the head maid outside her room, already waiting.
Elana once more reminded herself to give the annoying crone a painful death. She didn’t hide her distaste, sending a stream of chill into the woman’s body, making her shudder.
Then, Elana found herself in front of the Duke’s office. The doors opened and invited her in. A duo of voices promised a suffering-filled evening. She stifled her sigh and stepped inside.
“Elana, my dear!” The Duke smiled, but it didn’t reach his eyes. “You come right in time. Isn’t that right, Ashton?”
“I came as soon as I could,” Elana evenly nodded, inwardly sneering at the mention of coming ‘right in time.’
The empty bottles on the tray told a different tale. Both of them smelled of booze - expensive one at that. The room was not any better, but at least some of the snacks brought after they had started drinking helped to balance the stench somewhat.
“Sit, sit,” Ashton offered his lap with a raucous laugh, Vermont joining him with glee.
Elana raised her chin and demonstratively sat down as far as possible from the two, earning yet another round of laughter. “Here,” She lightly threw the vine to her father.
“What is this?” The Duke caught the bottle and studied it. “From the same place as before?” He uncorked it and took a whiff. “Good stuff. Will you join us?” His hands were already grabbing for additional glass, making clear it wasn’t a choice.
“May as well,” Elana let the divine energy run through her body, imagining the moment she would tear the two apart - peace by peace. She let Ashon pass the glass to her and took a sip.
It was good. Fruity and refreshing. Elana drank a little more as Ashton joined her. Only then did her father try the vine. She noted how most of the man’s faculties were still intact. He wasn’t as drunk as he played.
“This boy can drink,” Vermont banged the table. “Asthton, tell Elana about that hunt. The story was marvellous!” He encouraged.
“I have more stories, Vermont,” Ashton happily chuckled. “There is this one about the time I faced a hundred men in a battle…”
“Oh,” Vermont played along. “And what happened?”
Asthon finished his glass. “I ran!” He roared and began laughing, with the Duke joining him.
Elana noted how they were on a first-name basis. They certainly were much closer now than before.
To save herself from listening to more drunken stories, Elana spoke up. “The Bishop had an interesting suggestion.”
These words quieted down the drunkards immediately. “Oh,” The Duke’s eyes flashed, his attention now solely on Elana. “What was it?”
“The Church has decided to stop supporting the Throne,” Elana spoke the truth. She saw Aston sobering up. He had been playing along as well.
“Now?” Vermont clasped his hands in front of him and looked at the ceiling. “Why now, and why speak with you?” He wondered.
“It sounds like a trap,” Asthon voiced his opinion. “Did you ask why they invited you?” His tone demanded obedience.
Which Elana didn’t care to give. She looked away from the man while handing him the glass she had just emptied. “Pour me a little more.”
Ashton did. But Elana didn’t miss how he chose the strongest drink on the table. His intentions were anything but pure.
After clearing his throat, Vermont was back from his scheming mind. “What can you tell us, daughter.” He put an unnecessary emphasis on the last word.
“Romoly didn’t ask for you because he doesn’t trust you,” Elana replied, and her father thoughtfully nodded. “But they wanted to know our intention. Of course, I pretended to know nothing.” She explained before it could be asked.
“Can we believe your Church?” Ashton wondered.
“I believe so,” Vermont nodded. “They are not politically savvy. I don’t know what happened, but these are good news to us.”
Ashton raised his hand and tapped his chin while glancing at Elana’s legs. “It sounds like a trap.” He reasoned.
“Elana,” The Duke looked at his daughter. “What else did Bishop say? Did he ask us to do anything?”
“Nothing,” She shook her head. “Or nothing much, that is.” Elana took the glass Asthon offered, struggling with the urge to make him eat it. “They will not stand in your way. They truly believe the current King is on his last legs, and his inheritor won’t do a good enough job.”
“I see,” Vermont nodded, hearing what he wanted to hear. “It is true that your previous fiancee is bound to become a puppet for whoever supports his claim to the throne.” He hummed. “What else?”
Elana continued to speak, feeding her soon-to-be-dead father more lies. She was careful to not sound too positive. The man was too suspicious of everything.
But his daughter’s words elated Vermont’s mood. He drank more and laughed louder. He spoke to Ashton as if he was his son.
And Elana watched them with murderous eyes. A cold smile decorated her face. She could almost feel their blood on her fingers.
Soon…