The Prince in Question Is Not Stable

Chapter 65: Orchids in Silence.

[County of Orchiv, north of Crescenda.]

The castle of House Orchiv was a depiction of nature, with moonlight white marble, towers covering each corner, creating a hexagon on the several acres of land.

Every archway was draped in the shades of white, lavender, and deep violet orchids.

The castle, just like its estate, was silent. Iron gates stood open, but the homes beyond the outer walls were shuttered. Every civilian of Crescenda, alongside the cadets, resided within the bunkers, pubs rooms, on the expenses of Count of Orchiv under the rule of Giovanni Valante.

At the edge of the Orchid Courtyard, a line of dark carriages was parked.

They were sleek, pitch-grey lacquer reinforced with silver runes. Each carriage bore the same emblem on its doors...a slender crescent moon.

Holy knights of the lunar stood at attention beside them, their armour matched the black and silver, with cloaks trimmed with the same moon sigil.

At the foot of the grand staircase, a column of stretchers moved in solemnly, creating silence for the injured knights and cadets from Crescenda who were being carried into the castle’s eastern wing.

Inside the main halls of the Count. The chamber of Orchiv was sealed shut.

No guards stood at its entrance, no attendants lingered in its halls, not even a sound could be heard in the corridors.

Within the chambers, a chandelier of glowing orchids hung in the centre, while faint candles illuminated the room alongside the soft light that filtered through the ceiling, touching the crystal panels that reflected the chambers’ snow-white light.

At the far end, upon a modest elevation, sat Giovanni Valante.

To his right, the count of Orchiv leaned slightly forward.

He had silver-white hair that fell in a loose tie over his shoulder, pale blue eyes that remained calm.

Behind Orchiv were his two consorts. One, draped in deep blue, the other in a softer blonde hue.

Opposite to them sat a single man.

He wore black robes with silver linings. Black hair and fair skin.

The Count of Orchiv lifted his gaze.

"Your grace," he began, looking towards Giovanni. "It is my honour to formally acknowledge your presence within Orchiv. Though circumstances are...less than ideal, this chamber shall remain at your disposal."

After a brief pause, he turned towards the man sitting in front of him.

"Allow me to present. His Grace, Giovanni Valante, Duke of Amavelle."

Giovanni nodded subtly.

"Count Orchiv," he said. "You have my gratitude."

And then he looked at the man sitting opposite the Count of Orchiv.

"I am Covenant of the Moon," the man said, his voice was soft.

"My designation is Ferrey, a humble priest."

"High Priest Ferrey," Giovanni said. "Your presence here suggests that the covenant has already flagged the situation."

"Since you arrive with the authority of the Covenant, I shall speak plainly, as one authority to another."

"The county of Crescenda is not just the capital of Amavelle, but a home to the Valante family, and many of its people, who are well educated, highly respected in their profession."

"The county has suffered a calamity beyond projected scale. Survivors are displaced, homes are burned, and knights are incapacitated. There are those whose lives will not be measured in hours."

"As the Duke of Amavelle, it is my duty to protect my people. And I will request the presence of our holiness, the Saintess."

Ferrey inclined his head slightly, his dark grey eyes observed the scenery of Orchiv from the window behind the Duke.

He thought for a while, and the Duke waited.

"You have described suffering," he replied.

"But...I don’t see the definite necessity, or a situation where Saintess is yet needed."

The Count of Orchiv shifted subtly in his seat, and one of his wives looked at the man in front of them with a faint sense of anger.

"Necessity..." Giovanni repeated in a murmur.

"The Saintess is not a symbol alone; she’s not just a divine healer, but the will of the goddess," Ferrey said.

Giovanni tapped his finger on the circular table once and brought Ferrey’s attention to him.

"There are knights who will never stand again without her intervention, there are citizens whose conditions exceed the reach of conventional restoration, and most of all...there are certain individuals of high priority that are currently and actively holding off a calamity. If they survive, which I believe they will...we will need them to be at the best of their health and maintain good relations with the kingdom,"

Giovanni spoke.

"You’re saying that there are two high-priority individuals within that dome, whose survival may determine the scale of what follows," Ferrey said.

"And you believe that the saintess should be here in an active calamity zone for the ’possibility’ of preserving assets whose conditions are currently unverified?" Ferrey asked again.

"I believe that her presence would alter the outcomes in our favour," Duke replied.

"Favour?" Ferrey repeated. "That’s a language of probability, and strategists like yours should know better to avoid terms of uncertainty."

Ferrey was bold. Even after being in the presence of a Duke, the count felt that Ferrey was crossing the line with his words alone.

There was silence for a while as Ferrey stared into the duke’s eyes, assessing him.

"Allow me to clarify the Covenant’s position, Your Grace." He said.

"The Saintess is not someone who can improve outcomes, or should be meant to consider so," he said.

"She’s preserved to ensure them."

"The Saintess remains under ’my’ direct protection. Her purity, her power, her very existence is entrusted to those who understand the divine order."

"Bringing her into a zone where an unclassified demon is actively clashing with... whatever forces you have deployed, would place the most sacred asset of the kingdom in direct peril. I will not risk that which the Goddess has seen fit to place in my care simply because a duke fears for his political investments."

Count Orchiv’s eyes flicked once towards the windows.

He heaved a deep sigh, trying to calm himself down, as a hand of one of his consorts pressed on his shoulders.

"High Priest," The Count finally spoke.

"The wounded we are treating in my eastern wing include young knights who devoted their lives to serve the Crescenda; some of them are still children who will never hold a sword again without her touch."

"I understand the request," Ferrey replied. "Truly, I do."

"I do not lack compassion, My lord Count. It’s a luxury for those who do not carry the weight of divine responsibility, but I will not place the Saintess in harm’s way for the sake of possibility."

"She is not a relic to be sealed away," Giovanni interrupted, this time, his voice was heavy.

"Nor a contingency that needs to be deployed only when certainty is guaranteed. If that were the case, then faith itself would’ve been just a demand, not an action."

"There are men beyond that barrier who hold the line against something neither of has fully classified."

"We’re miles away from the barrier, within the close walls of the estate of Orchiv and yet we still feel the tremors, constant tremors of their battle, and you speak as if we’re not strong enough to protect our saintess if the situation demands for? You’re wrong, Priest."

"Valantes have been strategists for the late king, and we know better to assess a situation than priests who’ve never been in wars."

"..." Ferrey was, for once, left speechless, in shock.

The pressure in the room turned dense.

Count of Orchiv felt the weight of a clearance five Duke, in that very instance.

"You’re right," Ferrey said.

"The Valante name carries weight and respect that I would be foolish to dismiss. But you’re speaking to me as if I arrived here to obstruct you."

"I arrived here because the Covenant received the initial report of an unclassified demon within active county borders. I’m here to assess, that is my function, Your Grace."

"Then assess," Duke replied bluntly.

"Two individuals," Ferrey said. "You have not named them yet."

"That is intentional," Duke replied.

"Then allow me to name one of them,"

"Marcus Rile, Professor of Lunar Academy, County of Rile. The Covenant has noted his involvement in several incidents over the past years. Each time, outcomes were resolved in ways that served particular interests; he’s not just a warrior but an opportunist that’s better than most of the strategists I have yet to encounter in my lifetime."

"He contains the situation, that’s what matters-" The count was about to speak, but Ferrey interrupted.

"What matters is understanding what we are asking the Saintess to walk toward."

"High Priest Ferrey," Giovanni said.

"I’ve sat in this chair and watched you construct seventeen different reasons why the Saintess should remain exactly where you want her to remain. Every reason has been legitimate and valid."

"But now I see the real reason behind the surface of those reasons," Giovanni said.

"Excuse me?" Ferrey furrowed his brows.

"I believe last year, Marcus Rile contained a unclassified rift, and brought this world a corpse of a Sommelier, news was spread, and we heard that Saintess and Marcus were in the same chambers for quite some time..."

"You’re afraid that if the Saintess walks into this situation, where Marcus Rile is...the story that gets told afterwards will not be the one the Covenant prefers."

Count and his wives were in shock, hearing the words that the Duke spoke.

Ferrey scoffed, as if not believing what he had just heard and stood up.

"Oh, Your Grace. I can hear insults for me, my men, my family, but not our Saintess, for whom we have devoted our lives for. I would advise you to think twice before spe-"

*DHRRMMMP*

Suddenly, the whole castle shook from the deep tremor. Windows shattered, and walls cracked with the shockwave.

A knight draped in deep black armour came running towards the chambers and slammed the doors open.

"The-" He gulped. "The County of Crescenda...just exploded."

The black dome barrier on the horizon had vanished, replaced by the rising cloud of flames that draped the clouds like a rising sun.

Ferrey stood frozen, his usual self-obsessed composure finally shattered at the force of power he had witnessed from afar.

Giovanni just stared south as the Cascendra dissolved into the bomb of flames.