Poisonous Fox

Ingestion 1.6.9.X



Kate marched forward, relying on her Body Sigil to keep pace with the other soldiers and the Princess’s carriage up in front. To her left, Aunt Janet kept pace, continuing to… lecture Kate? Kate was not exactly sure. Gregory Silverborn, lacking any body enhancements, was riding in a supply wagon towards the back, where the worst of the dust was kicked up. Kate still refused to talk with the boy, after the stunt he pulled back at camp.

Would Jackie have been claimed by the inquisition if he had kept his trap shut? In fact, the reason Kate was heading back to Southbridge now, in minor disgrace, was because of him.

He was going to have to earn his way off of her profane-list.

“...you must control yourself in the presence of the gentry!” Aunt Janet droned on, as she had been doing, ever since Lady Trigg had reprimanded Kate. Ever since the ‘adults’ had decided that Kate would be better off returning to Southbridge. Despite the fact that she had never achieved her original purpose of chartering a caravan northwards.

“Still need to get that Sigil…” Kate complained, expressing what she was truly thinking upon.

Aunt Janet groaned. “Do you even know what the consequences for losing the caravan will be?”

“No… but does it matter?” Kate responded somewhat cheekily.

“Yes it matters! Yes, of course it does! We were contracted to provide security. We are the sole survivors. All else was lost.”

“Not the alchemist though.”

“And that is perhaps the one mitigating factor. There was no clause for betrayal… which could go either way. But if not… do you want to know how many Chargers a caravan like that is worth? How much we might be obligated to pay?”

A twinge of momentary discomfort accosted Kate, but she squashed it down. “What of it?” Kate responded, purposefully ignoring the creeping doubts. “They can’t go after us. We have–”

“-that’s where you’re wrong,” Aunt Janet said. “They can and probably will try levying fines against our house, and if not us, then the Low and High Guard respectively. What happens if the courts agree with them? What then?”

“Go to the Baron? Protest it? It really isn’t our fault… I mean… Charson drew an army down upon us. Not much we could have done, yeah?”

“We will have to see,” Muleater said. “We should have gone with a standard contract. At least then we’d know what we’d be facing. Crown save us, we can only hope those godslickin vultures choke on paperwork…”

Aunt Janet likely would have continued her lecture, and that was what it definitely was, except for a servant that approached from the front. The servant belonged to Princess Marissa, and wore her colors and markings, a purple flower embroidered on a jacket lapel. While the servant may have attempted to keep the clothing clean, travel dust had a way of persistently sticking. Still though, Kate had to give the servant props for trying.

“Kate Guardson?” The servant asked.

“Sir Guardson,” Kate corrected. She also would go by Sir Kate, but that was less formal of an address. A mere servant ought to have known that though.

Aunt Janet lifted an eyebrow at the encroaching servant. “Do you carry a message? Have plans changed since we laid them?”

“No, Lieutenant. But Her Highness has requested an audience.”

Awfully formal language, considering they were all on the road and making haste.

“And did Her Highness give a reason?” Aunt Janet asked, stressing the honorifics. It was no secret that the knights generally held a poor impression of the scions of the Crown. Especially when they installed pseudo-legal enforcement teams.

“No,” the servant answered, almost sniffing derisively, but not quite. “Her Highness requires it now however.”

“Fine,” Aunt Janet said, picking up the marching pace to a jog in order to catch up with the Carriage at the front.

“Pardon, Lieutenant. But not you. Her.” The servant pointed at Kate.

Aunt Janet scowled, but waved Kate forward. “Be on your best behavior,” Aunt Janet advised.

Kate nodded and increased her pace, loping towards the front. Kate’s height made the stride seem far more casual than most anyone else. It was due to the blood from her father’s side.

She outpaced the servant, certainly, who struggled to regain upon the carriage and his seat adjacent to the driver. Kate reached the carriage and paced alongside it, unsure of what to do next. She hardly wanted to just knock upon a Princess’s door. And what a door it was. Enameled and black with red trim and lilies painted upon them. The entire carriage was likely finer than anything Kate would ever call her own.

The servant finally caught up, breathlessly, and pulled an almost hidden rope hanging from the seam of the door. A faint and light bell rang inside.

“Enter!” a woman called from within.

The servant hopped up to the step and opened the door, while stepping aside. He gestured for Kate to step up. And Kate, obliged.

The interior of the carriage was lit by two lanterns, and had a lush but darkly adorned interior. Two velvet cushioned benches faced each other, and on the rearward bench, there the princess sat, wearing a pair of spectacles and reading over large loose papers.

“Sir Guardson, step in.”

“Y-your Highness,” Kate said, unsure of what was happening exactly.

The servant gave her a helpful nudge, and Kate bent down to fit herself into the carriage.

She made a bow, and the princess gestured to the far bench. “SIt. Let us talk.”

Kate tried keeping her face neutral. It was just… the velvet was pristine, it was a dark color, and it would surely show all of the dirt and grime that Kate had brought with her. The last week had hardly given her a chance at proper hygiene. And now she was in an enclosed space with a princess? The very same princess that had tried stealing away Kate’s property? Well, saved that property from the inquisitor, but still! That would have never happened if not for Gregory.

“I insist,” the princess said, her tone firm and unyielding.

Kate grimaced but she sat and sank into the too soft seat, one that was too small for her large frame, and left her bending forward awkwardly.

If the princess noticed the awkwardness, she kept it to herself.

“You might wonder what I would wish for such a humble warrior?” the princess asked.

“Knight.”

“Hm?”

Kate’s pale face paled just a bit further as she realized her mistake.

“Knight, Your Highness.”

“The question stands. You are wondering, I know you are. But let me ask you a question first. Why were you traveling north to Bath to begin with? Knights are hardly common fare for caravan guards.”

Kate saw no harm in responding. “Yeah, I was hoping to get another glyph, your highness. I just recently evolved my sweord glyph to include a battle sense, and I hoped to improve myself further.”

“But why the rush?”

Kate shrugged. There really was no good reason, besides impatience. Kate saw that now.

“Perhaps, you desired a leg up on the next term of the Academy?”

“Yeah… I mean, yes, your highness.”

The princess nodded in understanding, and Kate wondered once again what the purpose of this was. The princess had a certain reputation, and it was hardly for idle or purposeless chatter.

Marissa folded the papers and set them to the side, before leaning forward and staring at Kate intently. Kate found herself swallowing nervously.

“Your Highness?” Kate asked.

“That’s better,” the princess leaned back. “Now. Tell me of the lilac colored kunbeorn with cyan eyes. The one you traveled with.”

Kate did not appreciate the way this discussion was heading at all. One of the reasons that she had been sent home before a potential battle, besides the potential battle part, was that Kate had made something of a scene regarding the kunbeorn.

Kate cleared her throat, licked her lips, and in an altogether too tight of a voice, spoke, “S-salvage rights, Your Highness. “Found her, c-claimed her. By right… she’s m-mine…”

“Yes, about that. You are likely unaware of this, but the creature was Godsmarked.”

“That’s not true!” Kate protested.

The princess’s eyes narrowed, and Kate added, “Err… Your Highness, I mean.”

“The creature had a very interesting Blessing. Obsession. Now tell me, have you found yourself with your thoughts consumed for this creature? Beyond reason? Beyond the realm of expected and established behaviors?”

“No…?”

“Be truthful. This is for your benefit, not mine.”

The kunbeorn had been interesting, fascinating, and physically attractive. Where, Kate had never found non-humans attractive before. But, that was surely just a coincidence? She could not quite manage to force herself to believe that.

“H-how do you know this?” Kate asked, hoping to find some hole or lie in the princess’s claims.

“Inquisition,” the princess said bluntly.

“B-but… was it like… Velvetcall?” Kate said, recalling a single instance where one of the princess’s own blessings had potentially used an ability of mental influence. It was strange that the princess would be one to judge. But then, was the princess judging?

“This is about you, and your best interest. Would you truly wish to claim salvage rights over such a manipulative animal? One that has befouled your very self?”

Kate winced. While she understood what the princess was saying… She found it hard to even consider parting with the creature. Which was one of the reasons Aunt Janet had had to force Kate to come along when leaving the camp.

“I see its claws are deep within your mind,” the princess said, with a sigh and a disappointed shake of the head.

“For your own best interest, allow me to claim rights in your stead.”

Kate was at war with herself, attempting to find any foreign influence. How could she even tell if it was there? But one thing was clear: the princess was attempting to manipulate Kate, to rob from her. Royal scion or no, Kate would not just roll over and present her belly.

“N-no, I don’t think that would be necessary, Your Highness…”

“Its manipulations run deeply then,” the princess said thoughtfully. “Perhaps, I could outweigh its influence. Would you consider revoking your claims for a Greater Sigil?”

That… Kate wanted one. Though, there were leagues of differences between Sigils, from quality, to purpose, depending on who installed them, and with what medium.

“Performed by my personal Sacred Artist. And you would select the living stone, of course. Surely this would tempt you? Were you not to travel to Bath to receive just a Greater Glyph?”

The difference between what the princess was offering and what Kate had been seeking in Bath was quite large, with the princess’s offer being perhaps three times as useful… and by selecting the medium of the ink, Kate could focus the ensuing glyphs towards relevant directions: like the grace of a swordswoman.

But still… Kate felt torn.

Which, now that she thought of it, might be evidence that she truly had fallen to some nature of supernatural mental manipulation.

“And then, there is the Academy. Did you know that I maintain a seat on its board of educators?”

An implicit threat.

An explicit bribe.

And to compound it all, Kate felt slightly betrayed. The creature, Jackie, Kate thought its name was, had lied to her. Had manipulated her. It left Kate feeling sullied. Dirtied. She shuddered in disgust.

But… this was all according to the princess. Had Kate seen any actual proof? Jackie had always been recalcitrant when it came to exchanging affections. That did not seem the behavior of one who had decided to forcibly seduce. Or was it seduction? No, the princess had called it obsession.

And Kate was undoubtedly obsessed.

Had Gregory been correct?

The princess seemed to know that Kate was on the verge of acquiescing.

“Or… you could push your claim, and I could push mine. You would receive nothing. Except, perhaps, the interest of the Inquisition?”

Godsloving madness.

Kate had no choice at all. She could either get something valuable out of it, or suffer, and lose Jackie anyways. And Jackie had… maybe… perhaps unknowingly… abused Kate’s goodwill.

“What… what will you do with her?” Kate asked.

“Hm? The creature?”

“Yeah… Your Highness.”

“That is for me to know.” Princess Marissa smiled, leaning back further into the seat, relaxing. “Do you revoke your claim then?”

Kate really had no choice at all.

“Y-yes… Your Highness.”


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