X: Orsella

Lord Cigam Van Pinth was nothing if not a recluse, something that Orsella had found both respectable and infuriating. Respectable in the fact that she herself wanted nothing to do with the affairs of others when it did not suit her, infuriating in the fact that she knew next to nothing about the man.

He had been raised to a Van by her father—a council member without at least a last name would certainly be a topic of many the gossiping conversation. Yet despite this, Orsella knew not where he came from, what he did prior to his recruitment to the council, or even what the man liked to do in his spare time.

All requests to converse with him, in a public place or at a private dinner, had been formally denied. No disrespect was intended, of course, but Orsella couldn’t shake the feeling that she was being avoided. The other members had jumped at similar proposals. Karl Haarting had joined her at lunch, where he spoke in length about the wood production and upkeep of Haarting Forest to the north. Dorter Van Harris met with her at a service at the Grand Temple, after which he told her about the people’s opinions of her thus far.

Yet Cigam Van Pinth had remained silent. After a while, Orsella had enough. It turned out that nobody really knew where Lord Van Pinth lived. Few had ever seen him leave the gardens.

She found herself there early in the morning, the sun’s warmth still reaching the air despite the year’s continuing decline into autumn. The Royal Keep’s gardens stretched along the western side of Mount Takai. They were large enough that looking along it, one could see the curve of the mountain itself—just a little, but enough to disorient someone who wasn’t expecting it.

The garden was intricately maintained, with neatly trimmed hedges and perfectly placed flowers snaking their way throughout. Both the blood-red and ink-black roses that were associated with house Din Trellis guarded the stone pathway on both sides as it made its way through the multicoloured field.

Orsella walked along the path at her own pace, her burgundy dress flowing over the smooth grey stone. She was accompanied by two guards whose names escaped her. They trailed behind just a few steps back, their silver armour reflecting the sun’s rays onto the ground.

*Lord Van Pinth, I suddenly realised that I have never come to visit you and thought I’d…No, that’s terrible.*

*Lord Van Pinth, why have you not accepted my invitations? Too forward.*

*Lord Van Pinth…am I doing this right?*

At the end of the gardens was the greenhouse, a giant glass monstrosity so full of different plants that the view inside was blocked. Orsella could almost feel the heat from outside, trapped by the glass and moisture of the air.

“Wait outside,” she said to her guards. The two men didn’t reply and simply moved to either side of the doors, their movements cold and precise. Orsella pushed open the door, knocking on the glass as she walked in, and was immediately met with the strong smell of dirt and flowers. Inside, rows of wooden tables were packed with potted plants that stretched on throughout the greenhouse—a forest of greens, pinks, and other colours Orsella thought impossible to find in nature.

The whole place was a mess. With no more room on the tables, many plants had simply been left on the ground. Others didn’t even have a pot to grow out of, simply a mound of dirt that sprouted a green shoot. The greenhouse, Orsella now noticed, had a second level just above the first. The whole room was filled with almost unbearable heat and moisture that made the far end a little fuzzy to look at.

On the right wall of the greenhouse, an extra space jutted out, giving a little room for a desk filled with books and rogue sheets of paper, in front of which Cigam Van Pinth sat. The man wore thick dark robes, which made Orsella wonder at how he could stand the heat in such clothes. He barely noticed her as he came in, simply rising slowly and grabbing a cracked pot from the ground.

“Ah, Your Majesty,” he said, bowing with the pot still nestled in his arms. Even before he rose, he was moving to the corner of the room. *Some welcome! Who does he think he is?* Orsella followed quickly, rising to what she had decided was a challenge.

“Lord Van Pinth,” she watched as he stood before a small barrel nestled in the corner. It was full of dirty looking water. “You have been avoiding me. Do you deny it?”

Cigam shook his head. “Of course not, my Queen,” he took the lid from the pot and shoved the rest into the barrel, pulling it out a moment later, dripping. “I have not been avoiding you. I’m simply not a man who gets out all too often.” *That much is clear, my Lord.*

“Nevertheless,” she said. “When one is invited by their Queen for anything, one is usually expected to attend.” Something flashed on Van Pinth’s face. Irritation? Weariness?

“Then you have my apologies,” he said eventually. “One was never as…sought after by your late father.” *That’s right, he disliked you. But you already know that, don’t you?* “So, what was it that made the young Queen deign to visit me in my own workplace? I know you’ve already spoken with the others individually.”

“I simply wished to speak with you, that is all,” Orsella watched as Cigam lifted the pot over the closest plants, tilting the head so that water sprinkled from the small holes in the ceramic. “For now, I would ask you of your opinions of you colleagues.”

“Colleagues,” he spat, barely looking at her. “You’d be wasting your time, Your Majesty. They’re a bunch of bumped up rich—”

“Careful,” she said lightly. “I won’t persecute you for your thoughts, but you’re still talking to the Queen.” Cigam glanced at her then, his concentration breaking. He probably *had* forgotten himself in that moment.

He cleared his throat. “My apologies. In truth, I don’t think they’re *all* that bad. Lord Dan Jaeger seems a nice enough fellow. I don’t believe that Lord Haarting has ever spoken an ill word in his life…” he trailed off. Orsella moved to one of the tables, brushing her fingers against the petals of a particularly pretty plant.

“And the others?”

“I…” she looked up at him. *Like I said, your opinion is your own.* He seemed to read that in her expression and continued. “I care not for them, my Queen.”

“You seem quite close with Lord Van Harris,” she stated. “Am I wrong to assume?” Something flashed across Cigam’s face. She had stepped on something she shouldn’t have.

“Dorter is…” he hesitated again. “He is tricky, Your Majesty. I know he may seem straightforward, but…well, he’s the spymaster for a reason.” He cleared his throat and began watering another batch of plants. “The things he’s done—the things we’ve *all* done—they are for the Empire, yes. That doesn’t make them easy, however.” Van Pinth had gone quiet, something that unsettled Orsella a little.

“What things?” she asked.

After a moment, he shook his head. “They don’t matter, Your Majesty. Not anymore, anyway,” he said. Orsella opened her mouth to speak, to press the matter. Then he turned, lowering his pot, and putting a hand on her arm. “What matters is this: there are people both within the council and outside it who aren’t who they say they are. I have no proof, no certainty, not even a comprehensive list, but they are among us.” She should have pulled away. Nobody should be able to touch the Queen, not even on the arm, but the words coming out of his mouth were enough to keep her attention. She looked into his brown eyes as he spoke and saw his fear writ upon them. “Dorter Van Harris, Leut Dan Lothor, they have their own stakes in what happens to this land; It’s just a matter of whether they’ll help or harm it. There are snakes in High-Mountain, Your Majesty. Be careful where you step.”

\*

Orsella stepped out of the greenhouse, thankful for the cool air outside. Her guards were waiting for her, standing in the same position as before. *Cigam Van Pinth. Sorcerer. Enigma. Bloody intense when he wants to be.* His warnings still rang in her ears. *This crown I inherited…what is it worth if the people around me scheme and plot?*

Her guards followed behind her as she made her way back, so lost in thought that she almost collided with someone. Orsella managed to stop herself just as the other person turned to face her.

“Oh! I’m—” the man before her looked up from the flowers at the side of the path. His cheeks reddened as he realised who she was. “My Queen! My apologies.” He bowed deeply, and she noticed the sigil on his shoulder—a blue river streaked with green lines. Behind her, Orsella heard one of the guards shift. She waved a hand behind her, not looking away from the man. His hair was jet black and cut a little shorter than the latest style demanded.

“It’s no problem,” she said, and he stood straight once more. He looked relieved, his sharply cut jaw softening a little. Orsella finally managed to put the name to the face, him from the night of her birthday. “Lord…Van Por, wasn’t it?” the man smiled, his pale blue eyes were the same colour as his sigil.

“Yes, Your Majesty,” Lord Reese Van Por said. “I’m, uhh…surprised you remembered considering our last interaction. For that, I must apologise again.” Orsella cringed at the thought.

“It is I who should apologise,” she said, dropping her head a little. “I was being childish. Something I’m afraid I cannot choose to be any longer.”

*“I don’t* want *him! And I don’t need you to give me a husband!”*

Van Por’s eyes widened and he shook his head. “No, no! It was foolish to presume…your father simply…he—”

“My father wanted the best for me,” Orsella said. “Unfortunately, he didn’t really know what that was.” The mention of her father made her remember her next appointment. She looked up, noticing that the sun had risen considerably since she had entered the garden. “Walk with me, Lord Van Por.”

He obeyed, joining her as she walked down the path towards the castle.

“How long do you intend to stay at High-Mountain, my Lord?” she asked. Reese kept his gaze low and away from Orsella at all times. *Does my power command that much fear in a man?*

“I…may be staying a little longer. Don’t mistake me, Merina’s Choice is a fine place, my Queen,” he said. “But I’m afraid, I’m not too good at ruling over it. It’s my uncle, Treppar, who does the best job at overseeing it. Let’s just say, if I could hand my title over to him, I would do so in an instant.”

“You’re not alone on that front, my Lord,” she said. The words slipped out before she could stop them. He looked at her then, his eyebrows raised, and she pursed her lips. “It would…probably be best if you pretended that I didn’t say that.” *Great. I can hear the noblemen whispering to each other already. As if I’m not in a precarious position already.* So far, she had avoided all comparisons to Mariella the Murderess, but it was just a matter of time. Her son, who had overthrown her, was the founder of House Din Trellin, a precursor to her’s. If the public realised how closely they were actually connected, a rumour that she was the Queen of Din Blüt reborn would seem all the more true.

“Not to worry, Your Highness,” Van Por said. “I understand that it must be…difficult.” Orsella tried to hide her surprise and fixed her gaze on the path in front of her. He had been right, of course. As much as her Aunt helped, as much as her council advised, it felt to her as if every little decision was up to her. The weight of each choice, no matter how trivial, might ruin the lives of thousands.

“I…yes, my Lord,” Orsella managed. *He could still be lying. Best not to speak any further on it.* “Well, you are most welcome to stay at the Royal Keep.” They finally reached the end of the garden, the open archway was wide enough for the two of them plus the extra guards to pass through abreast, yet they lingered just outside it. “At least stay until the Wintering Ball. I believe it’s to be held a month from now.”

Reese Van Por smiled. His eyes really were quite striking. “I shall be there, my Queen,” he said, then glanced at the guards. “I’ll, uhh…leave you to your business.” He dropped into another bow and strolled back into the gardens, a little spring in his step.

*Lord Van Por…*

\*

She met Robyn Dan Jaegar in a meeting room a few levels lower than the council chamber. It was a small room with a single balcony, below which the steep slope began to flatten and open up into the city proper. In the centre of the room was a wooden table where Orsella sat facing the door. She was waiting mere minutes before Robyn strode through. Sweat marked his skin and trickled down his scar. He held a handful of scrolls in his hands.

“Your Highness,” he panted, bowing.

“If you were running late, you needn’t have rushed, my Lord,” Orsella said, pointing to the seat next to her own. Dan Jaeger obeyed wordlessly, sitting on the wooden chair quickly before placing the scrolls on the table.

“Apologies, Your Majesty,” he avoided her eyes and fumbled with one of the scrolls. “It’s just…by the Gods…”

“What is it?” Orsella’s throat tightened. The look on Dan Jaeger’s face opened a pit in Orsella’s stomach. “Have you had my father and brother examined by the Kishi?”

“Yes.”

“Then what have you found?” he looked at her for a moment. What he saw in her, she didn’t know, but eventually, he opened up the scroll in his hand and lay it out on the table. Orsella had to stand to be able to see the whole thing.

“The Kishi drew these,” he said. “They’re…diagrams, of your father.” Rellan Din Trellis had been reduced to a few, bold lines that marked his outline. In it, the insides of his body had been scrawled onto the parchment with surprising detail. Arrows on the outside pointed to certain parts, with illegible annotations next to them. *Soon, this will be all that is left of him. His body will return to the crypt and decay until nothing is left but his bones and this paper.* Orsella reached out, tentatively brushing her fingers over the outline of her father’s head.

“What does this all mean?” the parchment was rough under her fingers as they moved down towards one of the annotations. The handwriting was too crude for her to read well enough, but she managed to make out the words ‘degeneration’ and ‘contact’.

Robyn Dan Jaeger came to a stand beside her. “I know little of what they meant, if truth be told,” he said. He then pointed to one of the arrows, its tip stopped just before the throat. A small pipe had been drawn going down his neck and branching off into two large, wrinkled sacks. “What they *did* say that I could understand was that…that the King’s lungs gave out in his sleep, which was the main cause of his death.”

Orsella mulled over the words for a few seconds. She saw Dan Jaeger from the corner of her eye, watching her reaction. She willed her face to be still, unmoving, as she had seen her father do so many times before.

“He stopped breathing,” she said finally, more of a statement than a question.

“Yes, Your Majesty.”

“Yet, you have more to say,” she heard it in his voice—the barely held back words that strained his throat. Robyn straightened slowly, his hands by his side.

“The…the Kishi believe that the failure of the King’s lungs came from…from poison,” Orsella closed her eyes. She had hardly needed to hear it, cut the words hurt all the same. Her hand, still tracing the lines that were her father, clenched into a fist. Her nails dug into her palms as she fought the urge to scream. *Fa…*

“My Queen?”

She opened her eyes again when she knew she would not cry. The room spun around her, the torches on the walls dimming as she tried to put her mind together.

“What you say right now does not leave this room,” she said finally. “Do you understand?” she turned to Dan Jaeger so he could see the certainty on her face.

“I’m sorry?”

*“There are people both within the council and outside it who aren’t who they say they are”*

“There is a killer within these walls,” she explained, turning from him and moving to the balcony. “More than likely, there was more than one. For the love you bore my father, I will leave you out of my suspicions. Apart from that…anybody and everybody could have done this.” A moment later, he was at her side, leaning against the stone rail

“If this was a murder,” he said. “Then I believe that whoever did this was also responsible for the Prince’s death.” Orsella was silent. *He’s right. They died too close together. If this was coordinated…* “You may be their next target, your Majesty.”

*I’m not ready for any of this. I have hardly been on the throne a month and already, this is too much.*

“It…is possible,” she said. Over the horizon, Amatera Mountain gave a low rumble. Though only barely visible behind the nearby mountains, its red hot tip flared up a little. “But…that whole day, I could have been killed by any number of things.”

“What do you mean?”

“I mean,” Orsella looked at Robyn. His face was drawn into a frown. “If whoever killed my brother and my father also wished me dead, then why haven’t they? They have had ample opportunity. They were not stopped by the forces of Cormac’s caravan, yet whenever I go to the Temple, I have been accompanied by no more than ten guards. Why do I sit the throne when the enemy so consistently has the chance to remove me from it?” Now, it was Robyn’s turn to be silent. “None of this makes sense.”

“Nevertheless, we must increase your security,” he said, shaking his head a little.

“We know not who is behind this. Bringing more people by my side will not make me feel safer.”

“I can’t let you be alone after…” he gestured towards the scrolls behind them. “Do you trust none to remain by you?”

Orsella thought hard about that. Her handmaidens were her closest of friends, but any one of them might be holding a knife to her throat when she wasn’t looking. Her other council members were out of the question. Her aunt, who had already helped her so much, what if she had been jealous of her father? She had been as close to him as she was.

*It appears I am damned to suspect them all. Until I find who is responsible,* everyone *is responsible.*

“No,” she said finally. “No, I do not.”