Tenebris Renasci: A World of Magic and Gunpowder

Béatrice folded the paper once more, before tucking it in a pocket hidden within her sleeve. Her mind recalculated new possibilities and ideas for her upcoming conversation. 

Bluffing, it was an approach Béatrice was unsure about in the beginning, however, it was becoming more of a tantalizing prospect the more she thought about it. 

The carriage soon began to slow, its wheels crunching against the street as the windwalkers that pulled the carriage began to look around and at each other curiously. 

"Is this Lady Béatrice's entourage?" A muffled voice out of the carriage sounded, its tone authoritative and base deep. 

"Yes sir, she's in the third carriage back." Another voice replied, presumably the coachman of the lead carriage. 

"Good, I'll need to speak with her before I let you through." The authoritative voice replied, the sounds of hard footsteps against the pavement growing louder as the figure approached Béatrice's carriage. 

Louise glanced over at her mother with a slightly perturbed expression, whose expression was cold and unmoved, a perfect mask of confidence despite the situation. 

The carriage door opened with a firm but slow pull, revealing two royal pathfinders dressed in their golden ceremonial armor. 

One of the pathfinders was a man, with a muscular frame and thick mustache that covered his top lip. His crimson-red uniform held the insignia of a Pathfinder captain.

To the left of him, was a woman, dressed in the same uniform, except hers held the insignia of a Pathfinder squad sergeant. 

The Pathfinder captain straightened his position as he glanced into the cabin. His deep blue eyes scanned every particle with scrutiny. 

His lieutenant kept her gaze solely on Béatrice, with a hand readied near her hip. 

Béatrice returned the lieutenant's gaze, her expression composed and elegant, showing a hint of doubt. 

Finally, after what seemed like a tense eternity, the captain cleared his throat. "Sorry for the scrutiny, but we've gotten word of a potential threat from an unknown source," the captain chose his words carefully as his stern gaze focused in on Béatrice, "for your safety, we'll accompany you the rest of the way."

Béatrice raised an eyebrow, "a potential threat?" She asked, her tone feigning ignorance, "Surely nothing could get past your men captain, after all, you serve Her Majesty directly." She said with a faint hint of a smile.

The captain's mustache twitched with frustration, "indeed, my men are capable, but there's only so much they can do when the threat comes from within." He said with a sharp glare, his tone irritated and deep.

Béatrice met the captain's gaze with a soft, almost mocking smile, if she wasn't sure about Charlotte's suspicions of her before, she was now.

The Queen was practically stating her suspicions right off the bat

Enemy from within? 

With the first and only suspect being the widow of the man they were honoring today?

It would be comical if her life didn't depend on playing ignorance to it all. 

"Her majesty is never one for subtle gestures," Béatrice commented as she gestured to the seats across from her, "if you are to join me, I'd rather it be a closer ordeal, only… if you don't mind, captain."

The Pathfinder captain hesitated momentarily, a flicker of doubt flashing in his eyes before he turned to look at the sergeant. The sergeant returned his gaze with a skeptical look. 

Eventually, he turned to give Béatrice a curt nod, before climbing into the carriage cabin. His movements were careful and persevered, reflecting his life of order and rules. 

As the captain settled down across from Louise, the sergeant waved toward the lead carriage. "You're to proceed!" She shouted, giving the go-ahead wave, before stepping into the carriage herself.

As the sergeant settled into her seat, the carriage pulled forward once again, riding past the large black gates of the cathedral stone walls. 

The wheels were slow on the gravel-filled pathways leading to the cathedral, creating a gentle yet bumpy ride. 

"So captain," Béatrice began as she sat her hands into her lap, "do you mind telling me of this "internal security threat?" She asked curiously, "I hope our safety isn't at risk."

The pathfinder gave Béatrice a knowing look as he gently rocked side to side from the bumpy ride. "Lady Béatrice," the captain began, his tone formal but irritated. "You are many things, but a fool is not one of them."

"Oh, flattery?" Béatrice replied. 

The captain sighed as he looked down into his lap, his hands sat between his legs, wrapped one over the other. "I will never understand how a man like Napoleon could marry someone like you, a cold-hearted traitor to her people." He began, his voice low, "but even before I learned of this… betrayal, I never liked you."

Béatrice's mask almost shattered upon hearing the sudden harsh words from the captain. She was never one to be offended by words, but the sudden shift in tone was almost… drastic. "E-excuse me?" Béatrice said with surprise while blinking rapidly.

The captain shook his head while he looked up from his lap. "You heard me." He replied, meeting Béatrice's gaze, "But my feelings have little to do with the matter, so just sit tight and play your part, her majesty is waiting." 

— — —

And indeed, the Queen was waiting for Béatrice's arrival.

But in the meantime Charlotte found herself mingling amongst the funeral attendees. 

The funeral brought some of the most powerful figures in Ambur politics together, nobles from Pathfinder Houses and the eight high Noble Houses. 

Silent murmurs filled the main hall of the cathedral, whispers of alliances, betrayal, sorrow, and deception. Even in a funeral ceremony to honor the Grand commander, the game of politics and plots reign supreme.

And none amongst them more guilty of this but the Queen herself. 

In the sea of black and white formal attire, the Queen and other members of the royal family could be spotted by their deep red attire lined with golden trims. All of them bore the royal crest embroidered in gold and pinned to their chests on the right side.

"Mother." Princess Elizabeth called to Charlotte as she pulled on her hand. "Is Lady Béatrice here yet? I want to see Louise and Alexander."

Charlotte, who was lost in conversation with Lady Alice of a relatively unknown Pathfinder House, turned to look down at her daughter. "I told my darling, I'm not sure when they'll arrive," she said with a warm smile, "do you want to wait for them with your father and Victoria?"

Elizabeth frowned, her small face contorting with frustration as she squeezed her mother's hand, "no…" she muttered under her breath, "I'll wait with you."

Charlotte's smile grew, "oh Elizabeth, have you developed a crush on young Alexander already?" She teased, "I suppose it's good to know our future prince."

Elizabeth's cheeks grew flush pink as she averted her gaze. "No!" She exclaimed defensively, "I don't like him, I just… I miss him, he was really interesting, that's all!"

Charlotte giggled as she placed a finger over Elizabeth's small pink lips. "Shh, not so loud darling, this is a time for morning, understand?"

Elizabeth nodded as her shoulders slumped, "I know, I just wish I could mourn with Alexander." She muttered, stepping behind Charlotte, her grip tightening.

Charlotte kept her warm smile on the outside, but she was internally frustrated. She too wanted to mourn with Alexander, because at least then she'd have the boy back in hand. 

To think Béatrice could betray her trust in such a way, did she not believe there were consequences to picking a fight? 

Did she think that the rogue blade would truly turn the tables? Surely Béatrice knew better than to align herself with her enemies, right?

Charlotte began gritting her teeth at just the thought of it. If there was one thing she hated above all else, was unpredictable behavior, variables that could throw wrenches in her perfectly crafted plans.

"Ahh, it seems Lady Béatrice has finally arrived," Alice commented as she took a sip from her glass while pointing towards the entrance. 

Both Charlotte and Elizabeth turned to look in the direction Alice pointed in, an elated grin growing on Charlotte's lips as she saw Béatrice, flanked by two royal pathfinders. 

"Finally," Charlotte said under her breath.

Elizabeth's face also lit up with excitement, but more because she was happy to finally see Alexander than because of politics. 

Little did she know, that disappointment was right around the corner.

"Mother, they're here!" Elizabeth exclaimed happily, practically bouncing in excitement "Come on let's go meet Alexander!" 

Charlotte chuckled excitedly, "Yes, let's ask about Alexander…"