Chapter 85 – The Arranged Pieces
“What is it?” Catarina pulled Elana’s arm when she noticed the domineering got distracted.
“Unfortunately, I think my sister managed to get inside.” Elana frowned. She had spotted Mary’s brown hair just for a moment. “I wonder how.” It couldn’t have been simple.
“Has she?”
“I believe so.” Elana nodded. She couldn’t chase after the girl to make sure. And it wasn’t like having Mary be here mean trouble. “It’s time to enter.” She habitually checked Moira’s position.
Elana’s woman was now much closer. Just a few rooms away. Yet, it felt so far away. She wouldn’t admit it, but she missed Moira. That daring smile, relentless spite and terrific figure.
Stepping through the doors, Elana and Catarina entered a large, round hall. It was filled with rows and rows of circular seats, with the King’s throne in the middle.
Above their heads were balconies, mostly for foreign dignitaries and nobles who wanted to refrain from giving input.
Everyone important was seated near the throne, where the King’s ear was. The lesser nobles fanned out to the sides and back of the hall.
Normally, someone of Elana’s stature would not be allowed to have a seat near the King. Neither would Ahston be allowed a spot in the hall.
But these were not normal times. Elana held her head high, ignoring her father in the front row as well as Ashton next to him.
There was no need to pretend to be a dutiful, faithful daughter. Not anymore. Elana allowed Catarina to lead her towards the seat that had been arranged for her.
It, too, was in the front row, next to the Duke’s and Spiritual leaders as well as the King’s advisors. Only thanks to Catarina’s relentless persuasion of others did Elana have this spot.
The surprise on her father’s face was so satisfying. Elana beamed him a smile full of fake innocence, confusing him even more.
It caused the old man to hunch over as he clutched his stomach, clearly in pain. Elana’s smile turned smug. Her victim was almost ready for plucking.
But not now.
Now, Elana sat down, Catarina by her side. Cinthia had been left outside, where the Church’s people would accompany her. She looked around, soon finding Leina sitting on one of the balconies.
Elana recognised quite a lot of faces now that she studied the room. Most of them were people she had spoken to before, trying to further solidify her position.
But the most notable figure was Duke Arkoly De’Awry, who was glaring at the empty throne. His hatred was clear for all to see. With rows of supporters behind him, he was the main reason for today's gathering.
His son’s death seemed to have taken a toll on him. Arkoly seemed to be obsessed, oozing negative energy, clearly holding back mana from erupting into a deadly spell.
It was quite eye-catching. Even Elana’s father had turned his attention toward the other duke, deeming him to be the most important person here.
While understandable. Still, Elana felt the calculated dismissal was insulting. But her annoyance was overtaken by something else.
Through her bond, Elana felt Moira was coming closer. She narrowed her eyes, studying the large, decorated door behind the throne. They could serve just one purpose, and her girl seemed to be there.
A couple of heavily armoured guards slammed their halberd buts on the ground. The echoing noise silenced the chattering hall. They then approached the doors, ceremoniously grabbing the handles and pulling them open.
What was revealed was an entourage surrounding the King and the Prince. Most were guards, but also some advisors were present. But most curiously…
Elana’s eyes stopped at one particular guard with very conspicuous armour made to accommodate rather large breasts. The visor hid her face, but the black locks of hair sprouting from beneath the helmet were another giveaway of who it was.
“What is she doing?” Elana wanted to facepalm. The next urge was to kick the strangely feminine-looking Prince for looking at her woman with lecherous eyes.
An announcement shook the hall, informing the gathered of the Royal Majesty’s arrival. One title after another was screamed out as the sick King walked towards his seat and plopped down.
It was all one big show. Elana kept her eyes on Moira, who, she was sure, was grinning beneath the visor. Meanwhile, the introductions had moved to the Prince. Then, it was the most notable Noble turn.
Next was the prayer for the blessing of Love. Elana observed that a different Bishop from Romoly led the ritual. It made sense. According to the plans they had hatched, her newly acquired gay friend was organising the Church’s forces to support her and Moira’s claim.
Still, without the Artefact given by the Goddess, they would run into trouble. They had to prove Moira was truly a Saintess and do it in front of the gathered Nobles. That way, they would not be able to dispute it, and the believers would give them their support.
This begged the question - where was the damn thing. Moira had assured Elana it would not be a problem to get it. So, where?
Elana’s gaze bore into Moira’s playful eyes. She knew the damn minx was playing with her, but it still got to her. And it didn’t look like Moira had the Artefact on her.
Which would… Mila’s gaze switched to the Prince. His clothes were baggy as if hiding something. They were still pretentious and disgustingly posh but revealed nothing.
Once again, Elana could not help but note how womanly the man was now looking. She looked back at Moira, who appeared to be laughing.
Elana’s intuition told her there was something unpleasant about to happen. And it had nothing to do with the fact the Kind opened his mouth.
It was time for the gathering to begin.