Chapter 15: The Marquees' Mysterious Guest
The rise of a new leader is considered a big event by many countries. Daijaya is no exception to this. Even at the short notice, the people of Daijaya rejoiced and celebrated. Banners and food stalls flooded the streets to appeal to the curious tourists from Daijaya and other countries who have come to witness the event.
In the meantime, the councillors were working to the death.
On the eve of the coronation, every councillor should be present in the palace to rehearse the ceremony beforehand. Hence, all the work must be either completed by then or scheduled for a later date. Hitherto, each council remained in their state and tidied up its affairs whilst preparing for the coronation.
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Marquees Huzein was undertaking it in a similar fashion when a guest arrived at his gates. He rose from his desk, causing his joints to crack uncomfortably. He lifted his reading spectacles, replacing them with his usual kind as he exited his study.
The normally composed and confident dragon found himself restless as he made his way to the drawing-room. The mysterious visitor did not inform him beforehand that he was going to stop by. Viscount Rozalphor could never be so brazen, hence, he was at a loss of who it could be.
He took an uncharastically deep breath before opening the door. The polite smile beneath his moustache lost its glamour when he froze at the sight of his guest.
"Marquees, apologies for the sudden arrival," said the guest.
He stood up from the red sofa in greeting, causing the medallion above his right breast to shimmer. He did not bow, nor did he smile, he simply stood there with a sense of aloofness, as if the world's concerns did not matter to him. Beside him, a petite girl stood, her youthful face void of expression.
"D-duke Macabre," stuttered Marquees Rozalphor. "I daren't accept your apologies. Please excuse my unsavoury behaviour. My mind is captured by other matters at the moment."
He bowed his head low. A worrying frown graced his forehead as he pondered upon the reason for the duke's arrival.
On the council, there were not many that frighten him. Duke Wythe, although barbaric, remains detached from politics. He is a man of brute strength, his battle lies on rough waters that Huzein does not care to reach. Duke Macabre tells a different story. His intelligence is frightening despite his relatively young age. Not to mention how loyal the people of Macabre are towards him.
Huzein has to tread cautiously.
"Rise, Marquees," he said. Like a blooming flower, a smile appeared on his face. "A hardworking servant cares for his responsibilities more than anything else. It is an admirable trait. To commend you, I have brought a gift."
He waved his hand, signalling the girl to come forth. It was then that Huzein noticed the object in her hands. She was cradling a wine box, and from the looks of it, it is no ordinary wine.
"As an apology for missing the previous council meetings, I bring you a gift. That there is a liquor called the Nectar of Time from the lands of Athamya. It is difficult to obtain and is scarce in stores, I hope it is to your liking." His words barely registered in Huzein's ears as he took the wine gingerly from the servant's hands.
His greed was barely hidden behind his lenses as his dilated pupils watched the irresistible liquid swirl in the bottle.
"Oh, duke, this is not necessary, you have shown me much kindness." Huzein hurried to show his gratitude.
Duke Macabre shook his head, causing a strand of his fringe to land right between his eyes. He quickly brushed it aside with practised ease. The air of gregariousness surrounded the dragon as he invited Huzein to take a seat while the wine was to be opened. The departure of the servant girl to see through the task left the two of them alone.
Where Huzein had expected a standoff or something more unpleasant, Duke Macabre defied his expectations by discussing the development of the kingdom. The sympathetic, well-spoken dragon was a delightful companion in their conversation and the Marquees were starting to let his guard wane in the presence of the Duke.
Being present in every meeting, Huzein filled the Macabre with the in and outs of their weekly discussions. Naturally, he couldn't resist manipulating the events that would better suit his narrative, including defaming the other councillors for being rather uncooperative in the light of recent events.
"That sounds concerning," remarked Macabre.
"I'm grateful that I have someone to share my thoughts with. No offence to the other councillors, of course. They're young and, some of them are human, so these sorts of outcomes aren't exactly a surprise," lamented Huzein.
"Still, it is admirable that you think so deeply of our motherland." Duke Macabre awarded him with something akin to a proud smile. "If everyone were to think like you, the nation would be a different place."
Right at that moment, the door opened to the servant girl earlier, except in her hands, she carried a tray with two glasses. The glasses were accepted by the two dragons, with the Marquees being the most eager out of the both of them.
"It has been an eye-opening discussion between us," said Macabre, "a toast, to a new era."
The two dragons took a sip of their drinks. Marquees Huzein relished in the sensation of the liquid dousing his mouth with a rich sweetness that only the renowned liquor could muster, the warmth came with a tangy aftertaste as he swallowed. On his lips, revealed a genuine smile of tipsy happiness.
He remained blissfully oblivious of the Duke's calculative gaze seated before him, where his lips remained inches away from the glass because he did not take the sip.
"Marquees," he murmured the syllables in a velvety tone unique to his own voice. The potent liquor rendered the dragon drunk, so he glanced at the duke with a pair of unfocused half-lidded eyes.
"Yes?"
"Your schemes, although predictable, have manifested a surprising amount of courage. To make this endeavour worth it, I give you a single chance to confess your mistakes during last week's meeting. What on Aqua's freshwaters possessed you with the idea of spreading rumours about His Majesty?"
The previous affable dragon turned glacial in the blink of an eye. Meanwhile, the servant girl jubilantly plucked the glass from the Marquees' shaky hand, on her right, she pressed a dagger against the dragon's bobbing throat.
"W-what?" Huzein snapped back to sobriety, but his limbs remained limp on the couch, even the spikes of his tail maintained their flatness as if he hadn't sensed danger. "What did you do to me?"
Macabre revealed a set of cunning fangs. "A simple mixture of Impediendum for paralysis and the sacrifice of expensive liquor. It was the real deal, I hope you savoured it properly, otherwise, you can always go back for another round and not finish your work in time for the coronation."
Huzein's anger was feral, but he remained pliant under the servant's knife. His eyes narrowed on the blade. It shouldn't be a threat to him, human weaponry was laughable. But even the dumbest dragons recognised the symbolic carving of an upside-down "P", causing him to shudder. This was made by the Perriot, sharp enough to kill him with a single swipe.
"Please," Huzein startled in terror. "Whatever I did to offend you, I did not mean it!"
"I'll repeat once more, Marquees." Macabre placed his glass down, his tail languidly swaying by his feet as he rested his elbows over the top of the sofa's backrest.
"You are to repeat to me, word for word, of what had occurred during the meeting. It is vital for such negative rumours to be hushed before they reach the ears of other nations, who will no doubt be present during the coronation. Now, speak, before a suspension claims your chair in the council for months to come."
Threats were uttered in the same breath as one would describing the weather, Duke Macabre cornered the Marquees tightly without a single escape hole within the confines of the drawing room.
A downed dragon could put up no fight, so the Marquees allowed his tongue to run rampant.
X
"That was devious," whispered the servant girl. She sheathed her dagger back into the holster that was sewn into the hems of her skirt.
"It was necessary. Cowards like Huzein know nothing about admitting mistakes unless one literally clips their wings. The information we gain today is valuable. I trust you know what to pen to General Or, he would know how to make use of it."
Duke Macabre adjusted the cuffs of his sleeves as he boarded the carriage that awaited him outside of the Marquees' gates.
"Understood, Duke."