The Vampire & Her Witch

Argidir’s expression was dark as he looked from the unfinished letter in his hands to his old friend and Vassal. It wasn’t that he didn’t understand what Lady Ashlynn seemed to be doing in Lothian March.

Thanks to his cousin, Brighde, Argidir knew better than most how corrupt and lawless the frontier of Lothian had become. Much like Brighde, a well-educated lady from the duchies would naturally recoil at what she found there, and Ashlynn had even more reason to turn against the corrupt lords and priests of the frontier than most others would.

But there were limits to her authority, and there were repercussions to her decisions that she clearly hadn’t considered. It was a problem faced by many young lords who hadn’t learned to temper their idealism with pragmatism.

It was part of the reason why Argidir valued the years he’d spent wandering the kingdom so much, and why he’d encouraged Amren to do the same. Those years were an important tool for a duke to learn about the hard choices men made in the smallest villages, or the poorest baronies, before he could rule over a domain that didn’t resemble the privilege living in the palaces of a grand city like Keating or Gaalen.

Lady Ashlynn might be acting from a place of righteousness, but too much haste, too much independence, combined with a ruthless willingness to see lords die for their crimes would result in too many enemies within the kingdom’s corridors of power and an incredibly difficult life on a regent’s throne.

"I wouldn’t be opposed to appointing you as a Magistrate for her, Dylan," Argidir mused. "It sounds like she still has a mess that will need cleaning up and the sooner someone capable is at her side, the better. The Council might have their own opinions about a permanent post in Lothian, but if you arrive before anyone else, it will be easier to keep you there while I drag things on with the council."

"Wait, Father," Amren said, looking at Dylan. "You said that much of what we’d heard were lies. Does that include the announcement that Lady Ashlynn was carrying Owain’s child? I can’t imagine a woman who was heavily pregnant fighting a duel with Owain, much less winning, but the timing..." he said, allowing his voice to trail off.

Unless something indecent had happened before the wedding, it was still at least a month too soon for a child to have been born.

"She was never with child," Dylan confirmed. "Her ’frail health’ and her retreat to the Summer Villa were convenient lies to conceal what Owain had done on their wedding night."

"Then she’s holding the throne of the March for whoever marries her," Argidir concluded. "That makes it even more important to place you at her side, Dylan," he said, imagining the fight that would erupt among the members of the Ruling Council to select the next Marquis of Lothian. The king himself would likely put forward candidates.

"I think you should keep reading," Dylan said. "I doubt her plans include marriage to any lord of the Kingdom."

"You think she’s looking to the old countries across the sea?" Argidir said. It made sense in a way. With the Holy War that Bors Lothian had brokered with the Church about to kick off and the Blackwell’s fleets to cross the sea, selecting a husband from one of the noble, or even royal families across the sea could represent a tremendous opportunity.

"History repeating itself," Argidir said with a snort as he imagined a second or third prince from one of the old countries’ ruling families who might see an unclaimed march in Gaal as an opportunity to establish a new principality.

The Church wouldn’t stand for it, though, and they’d made that clear hundreds of years ago when they forced Keating to sever its ties with the Garnet Kingdom. Argidir’s own ancestor had given up his status as a prince in order to become the first Duke of Keating.

Whether he considered that to be a loss or not, Argidir couldn’t say. He was able to pass the duchy down to his descendants instead of surrendering a principality to his older brother’s children when the time came, which might have felt like a worthy trade. But in doing so, he and his descendants lost all claim to the throne of the Garnet Kingdom...

Any prince who thought they could carve out a piece of Gaal for their kingdom was sadly mistaken. But if they were willing to make the trade that Argidir’s ancestor had... It might be an appealing opportunity for an overstuffed royal family with too many spare heirs.

"I think that Ashlynn has her own plans," Dylan said diplomatically as he pointed at the letter again.

"Hmm," Argidir said, returning his attention to the letter as he sipped his wine. He hadn’t read more than another few lines, however, before he nearly choked on the wine.

~Ever since its founding, the Church has treated the Kingdom of Gaal as its puppet. Neither the people of the Verdant Hills nor I can tolerate this. As such, I’ve dispatched my Second and Third armies to secure Otker Canyon and the passes through the Little Horns. The Verdant Hills will no longer bow to a puppet king in Gaalen, nor break its back to serve the murderous, deceitful ambitions of a fallen faith.~

"She’s... she really intends to..." Argidir sputtered, pounding his chest in an attempt to recover from the wine he’d inhaled in his shock.

"She does," Dylan said, nodding at the duke who was rapidly reading the rest of the letter.

~For the remainder of the winter, consider the border between the Duchy of Keating and the Verdant Hills to be closed. My armies will not advance beyond our current borders unless you provoke us.~

~Come spring, I will visit Keating personally, if you will receive me, to discuss trade and peace between our people. The Vale of Mists, Airgead Mountain, and the High Pass have already joined with us. In the days to come, I expect the Southern Steppe to join us as well.~

~You have much to gain from becoming a friend and an ally, Duke Argidir, and much to lose from becoming our enemy. I hope that you choose wisely.~

~Signed by my hand, Ashlynn Blackwell, The Evergreen Empress.~

"Merciful Light," Argidir said as the letter fell from a hand that had lost the strength to hold it. "She’s aligned herself with the demons..."