[center][b]Within the Kamer van Macht; Evening, Veere, north-eastern Frisstreek[/b][/center]

“What? No! Absolutely not!” Lady Sara’s voice echoed through the Kamer; in the distance, the walls repeated her words in disbelief, until they softly dwindled away into nothing.

Across the great table, two terrible forces had united, Lord Henri Prins, and the Vorst Basilious. Sara’s eyes rolled from the two men, wide and furious, searching for an ally of her own; Odes. But the old man was not present, and she was left alone with his heirs grin, though five years her elder, Basilious still managed to play the part of a pubescent boy, all cock and glamour. One hand balanced on the table, looking up with an amusement in his grey eyes, reflecting the enraged Lady as she stood from her chair.

“You think me a fool, you bastards? Hm? You think you can just ship me away so you can run this country into the ground? I will not, I refuse!” 

She shouted across at them, the youngest gaining a look of apprehension, he’d not expected such a vocal protest from the Lady; Basilious never lost his grin, speaking coolly now, his ice against her fire, which only served to infuriate her further, “M’lady.” His voice slithered with a patronizing calm, for she was obviously the irrational one, she was the woman. “ You must understand, I would go myself;” The hand drumming on the table came against his breast, “Alas, I am not yet a Lord, and it would only serve to insult the Gu-shedal. My father, he is too sick to travel, and when he should pass into the next world, it will be in his own bed.” Basilious’ voice rose with force, looking at Sara, and even Henri for a challenge, but there was none. Though neither might not care for him, they all fostered respect for his father. 

“Then Lord Henri will go,” Sara began, but was interrupted by a gentle chuckle from Basilious’.

“Lord Henri is facing a great feat of his own; his thirtieth birthday, and a Prins Lord has not down that in, hm, It would be near eighty years now, wouldn’t it? My poor father saw the last lively Prins.” 

That brought a surge of annoyance to Henri’s face, who said nothing, but Sara breathlessly, unbelievingly, laughed, “ All peasant superstitions; spells and curses. Henri is healthy, and fit to go.”

“And should he die, a healthy, fit, man of twenty-nine, of still unexplained causes-”

“Lord Eckel had died of dysentery after falling from his horse into its own manure. If the man had not had continued his hunting trip, he’d be alive still today.” Sara said fiercely, Henri sitting silent, looking down at his hands. 

“And Lord Eckel’s father?”

“He broke his neck, drunkenly scaling a tower, and midway up, deciding he wanted to be down. If the Prins have any disease; it is their own drunken stupidity”

Basilious gave a shrug to her, “Still, Lord Henri and I have made our decision, you will be the acting hand for Frisstreek, you have more experience than Henri, you have met more leaders than he has. It’s only fitting for you to represent us.”

“It is only fitting that I should be gone so you might plan treason in my wake! Enough! I will not go. Where is Lord Odes?”

“My father,” Basilious would say with an edge, “is resting, we have already discussed it with him, and he agrees with us. You must go, Lady Sara.”

Sara looked toward Henri, “And you will allow this, Henri? A bold faced attempt at sedition, you know, when I am gone, [I]he[/I]” Her eyes turned accusingly toward Basilious, “He will only gather more power. Can you not see that? Are you as stupid and drunken as your forefathers? He will take every advantage [I]dwarf[/I] you with what power will gain. Without me here, there will no Lords, only a King and his Fool. Listen to me, you might think yourself clever in doing this, but you will undo us both!” 

Her warnings, however, went unheard, Henri turning his face half away from her, and speaking lowly, “I have cast my vote, Lady Sara.” 

Sara’s eyes flashed between the two, “Fine! Let it be then, let him rule. I’ve never cared for it anyway!” Already standing, it was the Lady’s turn to march enraged from the Kamer, slamming the door behind her, and startling the two guards at its sides. Both snapped into position at the glimpse of the Lady, but in a moment, she was gone.

In the Kamer, Basilious let out a high laughter, Henri staring down at the table, and thinking back to what she had told him, [I]There will be no Lords, only a King and his Fool.[/I] Henri would not be made a fool, a pawn in the hand of any man, Basilious, or otherwise. Without a word, he stood, and left Basilious to his celebration. 

Without Sara, there would be nothing but peace for him. It would be his turn to gain notoriety, to live up to the Prins name, before it was known for young-blooded, dead, drunken fools. He would be known for the hero who brought Fristreek into an age of glory. The common folk and the nobility alike would rejoice at his name, Lord Henri Prins, and in his shimmering glory, the memory of Lord Odes, of Lady Sara, and the Vorst Basilious would fade away, weak shadows in a world of light.