Chapter 207: The Fairest Shadow

Dawn came in the form of a golden halo cresting the Loerstadt Gate.

I watched from atop Apple’s back, gazing at the sight of the sun hoping to earn a spot in my good graces by sending me off. It’d need to do more than that. I hadn’t yet forgiven it for all the mornings it’d cruelly singed my face through the curtains.

Still, I was nothing if not famously cordial.

And so I raised a hand to my brow, wincing as I accepted this parting gift blinding my eyes in the steadfast way all royalty impressively looking on from a hill must do.

Though the early hour would have felled even the mightiest of heroes, it was little to a princess whose life was one of duty in the face of immense hardship. My responsibilities never ended, and so neither did my days.

No matter where dials upon the clock pointed, I could be relied upon to descend the gnarled oak I’d never once climbed down outside my window, escaping my tutors as they sought to assail me during the first hours of the morning.

Indeed, nothing could stop me from rising to meet the day’s challenges!

Not trumpets blasting in imitation of a whale’s mating call despite the moon still commanding the sky!

Not soldiers practising their drills in the courtyard before the rows of still closed shops!

Not insomnia as that receptionist’s polite smile remained branded like hot iron in my eyes throughout the night, her words of congratulations ringing louder than the drums of the marching band as they ensured that if they couldn’t get any sleep, then no one else could either!

Yes, I was fine.

Absolutely fine.

Those bags under my eyes? Evidence of my determination to see out my noble task. I fully intended on waking before the crack of dawn. And none of the maids who knew my true sleeping schedule were around to say otherwise.

No, wincing before the unforgiving rays of the dawning sun was nothing to me.

Especially as the smile Coppelia wore as she skipped up the hill towards me was considerably brighter.

“Alrighty!” she said, hopping to a halt beside Apple and me. “The Restaurant de Coppelia is now open! I’m confident I’ve scrounged the best breakfast selection available!”

And so the greatest challenge already presented itself before me.

Which of the breakfast choices I’d be picking.

A problem.

Both looked the same. And neither looked like breakfast.

I narrowed my eyes as I leaned towards the things she held in either hand.

“Excuse me, but … what is this?”

“Sun dried croûtons.”

“It looks like two sticks of stale bread.”

“That’s what the guards I haggled from called them too. But here in the Restaurant de Coppelia, we serve only things with fancy names. Like tarte au slime.”

I regarded the stale bread, then pursed my lips.

“Do … Do you actually have tarte au slime?”

“No. Why, would you have eaten it?”

“O-Ohoho … of course not,” I said, having absolutely no memories of my 10th birthday party when haute cuisine was surely at its lowest point. “I was merely curious at how adventurous the Restaurant de Doppelia was.”

“Enough that we’re sold out. This is all that’s left. Literally. Want one?”

I groaned before shaking my head.

Repeatedly.

“Thank you, but I’ve little desire to assassinate my own taste buds when the new kitchen hires already excel at the role. I need to represent the dignity of the kingdom at all times. And while having a blue face would certainly highlight my ire, I need to articulate my gloating laughter without impediment. Particularly when my countryside nobility is involved.”

“Only the best for them, huh?~”

“Without question. That pendant we saw featured the sigil I planned to choose for myself. A black rose. To use it is one thing. But to gift it away is quite another. There are several layers of insult at work here, both imagined and real. I intend to answer them all.”

Coppelia thought for a moment.

Then, she raised an arm, stale bread and all.

“Question!”

“Go ahead.”

“If there’s a sigil you planned to choose, ergo it’s not already taken, can someone really be blamed for coincidentally using a very popular and common symbol such as a rose for their jewellery and stuff?”

I responded by raising a hand to my lips, barely hiding the smile that was far gentler than any my tutors displayed as they instructed me.

“Ohoho … why, the fact I never once spoke about such intentions is not only irrelevant, but on purpose.”

“Eh?”

“At court, nothing is missed. And at my tea table, there are no coincidences. All those who sit with me do so while aware of my unspoken wishes, my future decisions and my need to nap while they pretend I’m still awake. That is the minimum cost of entry.”

“Uwaah~ sounds expensive.”

“Quite so. For a mere baroness to defy this is outrageous. And so for her, the cost has now become far steeper than any she could hope to pay. Yet for the slight of using my own chosen sigil to conduct her treason, I shall offer the chance to plead to my boots in person. Come, we head now for the northern baronies!”

“Great! Where’s that?”

“Too close. I can smell the odour from here.”

“All I smell is the horse.”

“Yes, well … beyond Apple, there’s a nest where penniless nobility congregate like hoodlums in a bar. The market town of Hartzwiese.”

I wrinkled my nose as the name left my lips.

Hartzwiese. A hole of no consequence specialising in lack of reasons to visit.

Yet as the regional capital of the northern baronies, I had no doubt we could find all the soap makers of tomorrow dutifully waiting for us.

“Any conspiracy involving my countryside nobility can be snipped in the bud there. And given the level of insult against me, we cannot arrive soon enough. Fortunately, this should only be a minor detour.”

Coppelia tilted her head slightly.

Then, she leaned forwards, her smile playing ominously at her lips. I leaned away an equal distance, stretching upon Apple’s back.

“Are you sureeeeeeeee?”

“E-Excuse me?”

“Because I know minor detours. And guess what–they don’t have a definition in the dictionary.”

I raised a brow, more concerned with the encroaching sticks of stale bread in her hands than her warning. I batted one towards Apple’s face, whose interest was kindled in a way magical parchment scrolls sadly couldn’t achieve.

“Really now, there’s little need to be concerned,” I said as crunching duly filled the air. “Hartzwiese isn’t far. And no matter what the barons of my kingdom hope to achieve, rest assured they’ll quail like cockroaches at the first sight of my presence. All that will await us is their dashed ambitions and empty hovels.”

“... Do you think those empty hovels will have things better than my sun dried croûtons in them?”

“I’m not even certain if they possess kitchens, Coppelia.”

I shuddered.

We truly were heading into the darkness.

“Shame.” Coppelia braved a nibble on what was clearly somebody’s discarded ration. “Because this really isn’t that nice. Want some?”

“No, thank you … wait, actually, maybe.”

“Really?”

“Yes. Should the rodents remain in their hovels, we can use this to lure them out.”

A bemused look met my suggestion. Understandable. Stale bread was needlessly extravagant. Dirt from the side of the road would also do.

“What if they don’t come out for sun dried croûtons?”

“That’s fine. When it comes to inspections, compliance is preferred, but not essential. Indeed, for nobility in secret communication with a hostile nation, we have leeway to be exceptionally thorough.”

Coppelia pumped her fist in the air, discreetly throwing her stick of stale bread to the abyss.

“Indiscriminate looting! Pockets, chests and drawers!”

“Coppelia! … We’re not going through pockets. We’ve no idea what’s been living inside them.”

“All I’m saying is that people will buy anything.”

“Then I hope the nobility will buy out the unlimited fine I intend to offer. If we’re fortunate, they may even provide an excuse as well. Those are always entertaining. Usually.”

Indeed, while I looked unfavourably upon the lowest echelons of our aristocracy, I did acknowledge their seamless ability to make themselves the finest jesters money didn't buy.

Jesters who wielded knives in the night, visible only when their ambitions shone before the betrayal.

And I had seen the first glint.

The rest was darkness, the stillness broken only by the slithering of an unseen silhouette. Something foul was at work. Something hidden and unknown, bleaker and colder than the knife in the darkness.

Something was waiting.

I could feel it in my bones, just as much as I could the quite uncomfortable sunlight in my eyes.

Even so, I couldn’t help but admire a play unusually long in the planning.

And while I wasn’t certain how this act to come would unfurl, I had no doubt an impressive amount of laughter awaited upon the show’s ending.

Gloating, unsparing laughter as I stood with my hand barely covering my lips, my fair shadow stretching farther than any inhabited by my foes.

Thus, I smiled in advance as I tugged on Apple’s reins.

It was time to spring clean.

And for those who sought to scheme in the comfort of darkness, there was no corner to flee to, no curtain to hide behind, and no carpet to shelter beneath.

Only a horizon as far as an island dedicated to the continuous manufacture of soap.