Warring Royalty - Chapter 2

	A long violet table arrested most of the free space of the large, well lit meeting hall. Dozens of chairs sat empty; only two were occupied. One by Rose, the training Seer of Derse’s royal court, and another by Dave, Knight and champion of Dirk, the Prince of the Kingdom of Darkness and heir to the throne. The court’s technological advisor, Roxy, quietly hummed to herself, laying recumbent on the table with an ornate glass in hand. Dirk paced, thumb and forefinger to chin in perplexity. All four blonde youths were clad in purple garb of various shades. Dirk wore a stately coat ensemble that emanated cautious authority and a seemingly out of place pair of triangular sunglasses. A nearly invisible bruise from an altercation earlier that day concealed by purple frill and tan makeup graced the Prince's collarbone. Dave chose a simple tunic covered by a steel breastplate marred with years of nicks and scratches. Rounder, weathered sunglasses balanced on his fair nose. Roxy and Rose both wore lavender gowns, though Rose’s trailed to her feet, while Roxy had elected to expose her stockings.

	The royal court to be regularly gathered, but rarely with this level of formality unless the meeting was instigated by the King or the Queen of Derse. Indeed, the air of the room was filled with anticipation. Dirk had called an impromptu meeting of his closest friends and advisors. After a routine scouting and training mission to The Battlefield, where the armies of the Dark Kingdom and the Light Kingdom, Prospit, eternally waged war, Dirk had encountered an anomaly that he deemed of far more than routine relevance.

	An anomaly that he did not want the King and Queen knowing about. It was many minutes before Dirk finally spoke.

	"A coup." Dirk began.

	"A what?"

	"A coup. A blow against the state. A potential insurrection, Roxy." Rose informed, seeding her voice to be as sanctimonious as possible without coming across as overtly belligerent. Dirk nodded in confirmation.

	“The a single Dersite pawn or, the villein, as I've started calling him, appears to have rallied a force that we had never thought possible,” Dirk paused, resting a hand on the back of Dave’s chair and glancing out a nearby window. Staring into the void never brought him the peace that it imparted to others. Nothing had ever been able to sate his restlessness, “It was seriously fucking terrifying. It's almost inexplicable what a single footsoldier has done,” he proclaimed with a sharp breath, “All of those Prospitian pawns standing side-by-side with what I once thought were noble, loyal Dersites. Gettin’ real chummy and shoulder to shoulder and all that.” Dirk removed his hand from Dave’s chair and trailed his fingers to the jeweled pommel of his dress blade. He thumbed the hilt, inlaid with topaz and exquisite goldwork. Dirk had a bad habit of becoming quickly lost in thought while trying to make a point. His entourage had long since grown accustomed to the habit, but the Prince’s enigmatic speech still frustrated them to the day.

	“I think you’re overreacting,” said Rose, chiming in from drawing smoke circles in the air with one of her wands. Dirk shot a glance to her from underneath his angular lenses. It was always an exchange of games with Rose.

	“Please fucking spell it out for me, Rose,” Dirk began with as much expression in his arms as he would allow, “Just how I’m overreacting.” Rose pursed her plump lips, stark in black lipstick against her unearthly pale skin. The Seer looked to her Prince and threw on a pout, siring a cocked brow from her liege.

	“They had a camp set up on the Battlefield. From the way that you described them in your memo, however, it doesn’t really seem as though they pose much of a threat. It’s not as though they possess the resources to bite the hands that once fed them.” Rose broke her gaze at Dirk and returned attention to drawing whispy trails of smoke in the air with her wand.

	“The camp that we saw easily had a thousand troops, if not more.” Dirk replied, blankly. Dave, who had been reclining in his chair for the duration, straightened his back and shot up a waving hand.

	“Snore-fucking-snoresville. We go through half that in a week. A fucking slow week.” He said with as little possible concern as a human could muster. Dirk shot him a dirty look.

	“Hold your tongue.” He ordered. Dave promptly stuck out his tongue and gripped it in between his thumb and forefinger, giving a sarcastic thumbs up and mumbling an incoherent “Good to go.” Dirk rolled his eyes and turned back to the nearby window, resting his tanned hands on the sill, “Doesn’t this strike you people as something concerning? Something that could potentially snowball into, oh I dunno, a full scale fucking rebellion?” Dirk said with dry emphasis on his last few words. Rose openly scoffed, though Dirk pretended to not notice.

	“If these pawns really wanted to mount some manner of counteroffensive or otherwise defect and had amassed the resources that you seem to be so intent on talking up, then don’t you think they would have commandeered a series of shuttles and fled to one of the planets? They are very lightly regulated, and the consorts are traditionally genial, historically welcoming the presence of both Dersites and Prospitians should they not interfere with their daily lives. And even if they were not hospitable, a powerful, powder keg of a rebellion would have no trouble at all coercing a handful of turtles and iguanas!” Rose punctuated her words with lively arm movements, grinning the whole while. Her liege did not share in her sense of humor. From her recumbent position on the table, Roxy chimed in, alcohol slightly saturating each syllable.

	“An’ it’s not like that if we totally wanted to they could do ‘nything about it if we wanted to get all up their biz, you know? Like, both the concerts and the pawns.” The Rogue astutely noted in her buzzed stupor. Rose gestured to her cohort, offering her statement as an example with raised brow to the insofar undiplomatic prince.

	“I still can’t see how this doesn’t appear relevant. At the very least something that, I dunno, could warrant some further examination?” Dirk did not sound exasperated. The word was barely part of his vocabulary, “Rose, certainly you of all people at least see the potential in this.”

	“Of course I do, Dirk, though I’m dwelling on more relevant issues at the moment.” She replied, trailing off. Dirk barely opened his mouth before shutting it again, very slightly shaking his head.

	“I hardly see what could be more relevant than the potential for a full-fucking-scale military insurrection, especially given the current state of the war.” Dirk said in deadpan before falling into a parade rest, facing his entourage. Rose pinched her chin before extending her hand in a stately, presentative manner.

	“Will you indulge me for a moment?” She asked, plain and simply. Dirk shifted his footing.

	“I will.”  He replied, pupils darting across every contour of Rose’s face, contracting as he noticed her attempt to contain a grin.

	“You said ‘we’ came across the villein’s camp. However, you told us that you had ventured out alone to meditate before your discovery.” She said with a flicker of mischief in her eyes.

	“...Indeed.” Dirk replied, retaining his composure, his even breathing. He internally berated himself for the inclusion of such a trivial detail.

	"And... The bruise on your neck?" Rose said, pressing her index finger into the dimple above her chin. Dirk remained silent, damning himself behind his stoic countenance. “So, who else was with you?” The Seer inquired. She and Dirk locked eyes. Dirk could lie like the best of them, better than the best of them. And even though Rose possessed a mastery of mind games, Dirk was confident in his ability to best her. Still, he did not deem it appropriate. Not now, at least. Perhaps this cornering could work to his advantage.

	“It was John.” Dirk stated, plainly and dismissively, as though John were and old friend. Rose raised her eyebrows in mild surprise, her expectations well surpassed. Dave blinked beneath his shades and straightened himself out, adjusting his breastplate.

	“The Heir of Prospit?” The Knight inquired, suddenly ramrod stiff and gripping the armrests of his seat, “You saw John?” Rose's eyes darted to Dave's knuckles. The title caught Roxy’s attention and she too began to interrogate her leader.

	“You mean the windy kid?” She asked.

	“Yes, John of Prospit,” Rose chimed in, much to Dirk’s dismay, “He who commands the power of The Breeze and bends it to his will,” The Seer turned her attention back to the Prince, “Dirk, this seems to be relevant information, that Prospit is also aware of this growing ‘threat’ of yours. Now, why didn’t you tell us this straight away?” She asked with a grin. Dirk heaved a sigh.

	“It must have slipped my mind.” Dirk replied, touching his forehead and twisting his fingers away in a flourish. Rose poked the dimple of her cheek and met Dirk with a dry stare.

	“It would appear.” She said. The room went silent for a moment, Dirk and Rose in a staring contest, Dave crossing his arms in silent contemplation. Even Roxy had ceased her humming, pink eyes darting in between the other players in the room, excitedly anticipating their next move.

	“I’ll be in my chambers,” Dirk said as he turned on heel and walked towards the door, “Meditating.” He slid open the portal and stepped through, “No disturbances.” Roxy twisted on her back, rolling into an upright position and sliding off the table.

	“Yeah, I think I’m gonna call it quits, too. I got stuff to take care of.” The Rogue skipped away from the table, following Dirk through the door and sliding it shut. With that, the Seer and the Knight were left alone. As soon as he was certain of their isolation, Dave nearly jumped out of his chair to speak.

	“Shit, you think that this could actually be a problem? See, ‘cause I’m trying to delegate my freakout factor here and it’d be nice to have some kinda direction.” He addressed the Seer, who replied with a shrug. Dave flicked the right lens of his sunglasses, a nervous habit, “We should probably tell the Queen about this.”

	“No, I don’t think that will be necessary.” Rose said calmly. Dave raised and dropped his arms in inquisition.

	“The fuck do you mean.”

	“I know John.”

	“Like hell you do.”

	“I mean I know of John. I’m aware of how he operates. What, do you think that you know the Heir better than I? I couldn't help but notice just how inexplicably you reacted to his name earlier...” She playfully poked at his solar plexus, “Maybe you’ve got some insider information that you’d like to share.” Rose said with a smirk. Dave quickly reached up and thumbed the frame of his sunglasses, his bitten nail eventually coming to rest on a particular chip in the frame. Rose smiled at the Knight. He dropped his hand and drew it back through his slick blonde hair.

	“No, of course I don’t. The hell do you think I am?” He replied. Rose’s smirk grew.

	“From what I’m aware, he won’t address this problem with his royalty either.” Rose stood, smoothing the wrinkles in her purple gown. Dave snorted.

	“And what makes you so fuckin’ sure.” Dave quipped. Rose turned to the Knight and stood on her tip-toes, meeting him at eye level. She maintained this for a moment before imparting Dave a playful wink and dropping to her feet. Dave contorted his visage into a wretched expression, warranting a giggle from the Seer.

	“I have my certainties,” Rose began as she too turned to leave, “Besides, who would we be to descend to The Battlefield and slaughter scores of potentially innocent troops?” She said, putting a flourish in her step. Dave shoved his hands into his pockets and followed suit, slouching as much as his breastplate would allow.

	“You don’t trust Dirk.” He said flatly.

	“Of course I do,” Rose replied quickly, almost defensively, “I just think that it’s more prudent of us to direct our, my energies elsewhere.” They had passed through and shut the door and had made their way down a substantial length of hallway before Dave replied, all the while never breaking his directly frontward gaze.

	“You’re not seriously thinking of going back to the Land of Wind and Shade, are you?” Dave said, dramatically licking his lower lip before shooting the Seer a single finger pistol, "You're not gonna try to mess with the Breeze again are you?" Dave caught a glimpse of Rose’s smirk in his peripheral vision as they came to an intersection in the hallway. Rose turned away from the Knight, running a hand along his shoulder and giving him a slight push.

	“Oh, Dave, I would never dream of it.” Rose said as she departed down a new passage, leaving Dave alone at the intersection. He watched Rose walk out of view and paused.

	“Fucking hell, Rose. Dirk, John... Why now...” The Knight muttered as he struck the marble floor of the palace hall with the heel of his boot, cursing under his breath before himself departing to his own designs.

	On Prospit, the Heir, the Page, the Witch, and the Maid deliberated among their detachments, quarreling about many things, though the villein was not one of them. John cast his gaze towards Skaia for a brief moment before returning to his thief and knight. They would be made aware. Eventually.