FicWad

Lacrimund's heart, once proudly piercing into the foothills of the heavens, now stood alone in the colorless skies. Its towers were originally built to appear as alabaster, as a beacon to the distance, but now their hue looked faded as old bones might. The city itself no longer represented the jewel of the island, but more like the decayed remains of a wild beast, with its gray ribcage spires piercing the now barren skies. Birds rode the wind that snapped tattered banners high above the streets, circling the city as if they were hesitant to land. They were black in color, but appeared as mere specks to the mourning metropolis below. The rampant winds, however, seemed out of place for the motionless city. Lacrimund, the City of Tears, had lost its luster.
It was those towers that the Prince of the West stood beneath. They ominously warned him to stay his advance, but he pressed on nonetheless, entering the castle that was now the proverbial lion's den. An attendant or servant of some sort greeted him immediately, and Leovaldo gave his practiced, regal introduction with extra flourish, sounding both impatient and irritated. He had since learned that if a noble wanted to be treated like a noble, then a noble should act like a noble.
"I am Leovaldo, son of Kalderon, royal emissary of the newly founded Kingdom of Kalderon. I wish to meet with your superiors at once." He left his dialogue abrupt and direct. At the mention of his name, the lowly attendant's eyes widened with surprise. At the end of the Prince's introduction, he was promptly escorted further into the great hall of the keep. Its upkeep was still maintained by the staff, the décor and appearance was just as rich as Leovaldo had remembered it.
A woman walked towards them in the great hall, nearly head on. She appeared to be headed for the entrance, but even from a distance her walk was the walk of a noble. She wore a red dress that did little to conceal her curvaceous but lithe body, her scarlet hair swaying with her movements but concealing the right portion of her face. As she neared, Leovaldo recognized her magnetic eyes and full lips.
She was the woman from the rooftop, during the night of the Royal Family Massacre. She was an associate of Fayette.
As they neared each other in the hallways, maintaining their noble, blasé attitude and walk, their heads turned to peer at each other. She clearly recognized him as well, although neither offered any greetings or exchanged any other sign of recognition aside from their blank stares. One second their were side by side, pondering the motives of the other, and in the next second they had left the other's field of view, continuing on their separate paths as if they had never before seen the other, walking their noble's walk.
Leovaldo returned his gaze to his anterior. The attendant led him through a series of hallways and passages, further and deeper in to the den.
If an associate of Fayette's was in the castle, could that mean that Fayette was also present? Leovaldo's heartbeat quickened at the thought of another encounter with his newly found passion, but quickly calmed his thoughts, returning his focus to his mission.
He wondered how receptive the Emperor would be to a request for bloodless borders from a comrade-turned-enemy.
The attendant that led him stopped once they reached a lavishly decorated room with high ceilings. In the center stood what appeared to be the backside of an alabaster statue. The attendant took several steps to the side and knelt, bowing his head low.
"My mistress, may I present Prince Leovaldo, son of Kalderon, royal emissary of the Western Highlands."
The alabaster statue turned to face the Prince, and spoke.
"Greetings, son of Regents Kalderon and Octavia and heir to the Western Throne. I am the Empress Iona, wife of elected Emperor Lexander Armiger, and ruling sovereign in his absence. I regret to inform you that we are in receipt of no messengers now envoys with your intent to arrive, and your appearance is something of a... surprise, although not unwelcomed." Her white lips stretched, and she smiled a terrifying smile.
She was no statue, but the Empress Iona, the infamous Alabaster Queen. Every rumor and whisper he had heard about the woman came fresh in his mind, from her participation in sacrificial rituals to her instigation and fueling of the Ethnic Wars. With dead white skin and numerous gowns and robes and cloaks of a hue whiter than fresh snow and an elaborate headdress of pure alabaster, he then understood why she had been deemed with such a regal title, as well as such ominous rumors. Since the upper portions of her face were concealed by her ornate helmet and her body remained motionless when she spoke, save her jaw, her appearance as an alabaster statue maintained, poised and grand.
The Prince spoke next.
"I bring hails from my mother and father, the newly elected king and queen of the Western Highlands. We bid you seek peace; a bloodless border between our divided lands until a more permanent form of agreement can be made. Is there a time or haven I may parlay with yourself and your lord?"
A moment passed before a response was had, and for a moment it once again looked as if Leovaldo was speaking only to a statue.
"I regret to inform you that my Lord is currently absent from his throne; the business of defending a nation has called his efforts elsewhere. Although you are no stranger to these halls, I bid you welcome to Lacrimund. I dearly hope you feel at home in my home as I do; I guarantee your stay shall not be brief."
In one swift motion that took less than a heartbeat, her arm raised from its place at her side and she snapped her fingers. For a moment Leovaldo merely gazed at the Empress, confused by her words and actions.
He then felt a painful constriction around his expensively garbed but thin biceps. His gaze shot to his flank as his head whipped to one side, his hair flitting about his face.
Where the humble attendant once kneeled know stood an iron behemoth; a fully armored and completely concealed guard had held the prince's arms with a grip suitable for a muddy swine. The regal white tabard and lack of insignia denoted the guard's loyalty to the Empress, and not the Empire. The prince's head spun to face the statuesque Empress, his gaze lit with a mixture of defiance and shock.
"What is the meaning of this?" His courtly manners disappeared beneath his alarm. "Detaining an ambassador could be considered a declaration of war!"
Several moments of silence passed, but the Prince could not manage to control his alarm or heartbeat. The Empress' arm returned to its place at her side, and she once again looked as a statue would.
"So be it."
Leovaldo was taken deeper into the halls of his former home.