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Chapter 9: The Ball (Part 1)

  Karl pulled back the curtains as the carriage came to a gradual stop. There it was. The Royal Palace, in all its glory.

  Jane raised her head from his shoulder and looked up at the towers that stretched above the wall. “They’re…Quite tall.”

  Karl merely nodded. It was quite the sight. The palace being the tallest building in the city by a wide margin. It was very different in comparison to the buildings around it. Grander. The architecture eerily similar to that of the Imperial Briss Gallery.

  The guards closest to the door stepped out of the carriage and formed a perimeter, eyes scanning the surroundings as their cloaks fluttered behind them in the evening breeze.

  Karl stepped onto the stone path and offered his hand to Jane, who took it as she descended down to ground level. Her gown brushing the carriage step, as she looked up at the imposing walls that bound the royal palace

  Ahead, the gates into the palace grounds were wide open, a group of royal guards, their ceremonial spears leaning against their shoulders and a gun hanging from their hips, stood watch behind a servant who sat behind a desk and read through a scroll. The desk must have been placed there just for this occasion.

  As they approached the servant looked up from the scroll he had been reading. Karl was just able to make out how the scroll contained a list of names written in cursive. A few of the names having already been crossed off.

  “May I have your names please? Milord, Milady?” The servant nodded his head in their direction. The golden badge that adorned his suit reflecting the light with the movement. The badge marked him as a direct servant of the Crown, and it explained why he wasn’t overly deferential.

  “Karl and Jane Brooks,” Karl nodded back at the servant.

  “Ah yes,” the servant reached for a different scroll that sat to the side and unfurled it. Finding their names moments later. He reached for a quill that had been resting within an inkwell and he crossed out their names.

  “Welcome to the Royal Palace, you may enter, and have a wonderful day.”

  “Thank you,” Karl bowed his head slightly in his direction. Jane gave a small curtsy, and together they walked through the gates, making their way into the palace grounds, their guards following close behind.

  The front garden beyond the gate was beautiful. Tall, sculpted shrubs stood evenly spaced along the path, and beneath them grew flowers, chosen more for colour than fragrance. At the end of said path was the Royal Palace, and what a sight it was, with its grandiose gates, made of a pale, ivory-like material, and carved with depictions of past glory. A flight of steps led up to the entrance, where a servant, flanked by two royal guards, stood watching them approach.

  “Sir, Madam,” he bowed in their direction. “Please follow me to the ballroom,” he paused for a second. “Your guards will be led to the Outer Hall.”

  Karl gave a curt nod, as their guards were quietly led away by a different servant.

  “This way please.” The servant, and now guide, turned and made his way into the Royal Palace proper.

  Karl smiled at Jane as she tightened her grip on his arm, and together they followed the servant into the palace. They emerged into a vast hall, where towering stone statues of renowned generals and knights stood sentinel along the walls. The vaulted ceiling stretched far above them, its surface painted with artistic renditions of the kingdom's storied past.

  Their footsteps echoed softly on the polished floor as they crossed the grand chamber and entered a long hallway adorned with tapestries depicting the kingdom’s many victories. Most showed sweeping naval battles or grand hunts of formidable beasts—land warfare was rare in the early scenes. But as they moved further down the corridor, the images of naval battles and great hunts gave way to increasingly frequent depictions of clashing armies. The soldiers in these later tapestries wore progressively heavier armour, and firearms gradually disappeared—replaced by crossbows, and longbows. Had Karl not known about the Briss Empire, these scenes may have given him a clue. Or maybe not. Sometimes, the best place to hide something was in plain sight.

  It seemed obvious now, with the past laid bare in thread before him, but he knew it was not common knowledge. Not at all. Any information from before or during the Void Century was incredibly rare. That made it all the more surprising to see the royal family so openly flaunting such priceless relics of their past. He’d expect them to have them hidden away in some deep, dark vault. Away from the watchful eye of Cipher Pol, the World Government's silent hand.

  The servant led them on in silence, but Karl could no longer hold back his curiosity; he had to ask.

  “What part of history is it meant to portray? He broke the silence, his voice light, almost conversational, as he gestured at the closest tapestry depicting two armies of knights clashing across a vast sunlit plain.

  The servant slowed his pace and glanced at the scene. “A myth, sir,” he replied smoothly. “A tale from the old epics. Nothing historical—just noble fantasy.”

  Karl gave a thoughtful hum in response—a quiet sound of acknowledgement—and they continued on.

  Faint strains of music drifted towards them from just ahead as they neared the ballroom, its entrance marked by a pair of large oak doors engraved with golden leaves. Two guards stood on either side of the doorway, halberds at their shoulders, and clad in the livery of the royal house.

  As they neared, Karl noticed a pair of servants beside one of the guards carefully rolling up the tapestry closest to the door, whilst another pair moved in to replace it with one depicting a grand naval battle.

  Their guide turned and smiled politely. “If you would kindly wait a moment, sir, as I notify the Herald of your arrival.”

  A moment later, the guards pushed open the great oak doors, which silently swung inward, as the servant hurriedly darted through the opening.

  Within moments, the soft murmur of the ballroom faded, as the sound of a staff striking the marble floor rang out in three sharp beats.

  Then came the herald’s voice, rich and resonant, honed for pageantry:

  “Now presenting—Master Karl Brooks of Southspindle, second son of the Brooks mercantile family and President of the Vaelport Trading Company—accompanied by his esteemed wife, Lady Jane Brooks, formerly of House Ellington.”

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  The guards pushed the doors open wider, and they swung fully ajar, revealing a chamber bathed in golden light. Crystal chandeliers sparkled overhead as the music faded and dozens of heads turned.

  Karl and Jane stepped into the room and emerged onto a platform overlooking the entire ballroom floor. Famous and influential individuals from all four corners of the Briss Kingdom stood in loose clusters, and paused to watch as they descended the stairs. After a moment, conversations resumed, and the chamber orchestra on the elevated side-stage picked up the music once more.

  “Is that normal?” Karl whispered to his wife.

  “That pause as we entered?” Jane glanced up at him, and smiled. “It's quite common for certain kinds of people…” She trailed off as they reached the bottom of the stairs. “You don’t normally attend events such as these, so they were surprised.”

  “Ah yes,” Karl watched as an opulently dressed diminutive figure approached them with a hurried gait. A much taller, silver-haired woman—probably his wife or daughter— trailed a few steps behind him, her pace unhurried.

  “But it's not only that,” Jane shook her head, and gestured at the people all around them. “They all know about the Vaelport Trading Company, and about you.” She squeezed his arm. “You’re quite the topic to gossip about in these circles.”

  Karl recognised the short man who was nearly upon them. He’d grown a long moustache since last he’d seen him, and he’d lost a bit of the paunch around his midsection.

  “As expected of you Mister Brooks! The penultimate arrival to this grand occasion!” The man, Corwin Roelle—head of both House Roelle and The Wrainwrights—extended his hand in greeting.

  Karl took the offered hand, and they exchanged a firm handshake.

  “And you must be his lovely wife? Missus Brooks?”

  Jane extended a gloved hand, and Corwin bowed slightly, pressing a polite kiss to her knuckles.

  “Yes, a pleasure,” Jane withdrew her hand just as the silver-haired lady who had been approaching after Corwin came to stand at his side, her white gown shimmering with silver thread as it glided across the floor.

  Karl cast a brief look at the lady, noting how she towered over the much smaller Corwin, and how the silver embroidery of her gown had been woven into serpents that coiled across the fabric.

  “Ah yes! This here is my daughter, Liora Roelle—,” Liora curtsied, “—She had her debutante ball a few years ago, and unfortunately, this is only her second ever formal gathering since then.”

  “Ah…well…” Karl gulped as a terrifying thought struck him. Liora was undeniably beautiful, and she looked quite exotic with her silver hair and striking blue eyes. “...It's a pleasure to meet you, Lady Liora.”

  She was just the kind of person the Celestial Dragon would take a liking to. He needed to warn Corwin; have her leave or hide her face or something! It wasn’t too late yet.

  Karl exchanged a glance with his wife—clearly, the same thought had just occurred to her.

  “Sir Roelle, may I speak to you for a—”

  “Karl Brooks!” A loud boisterous voice rang out, one Karl instantly recognised as Harmen Aldeen, heir to the Aldeen Trading House. He stumbled into their circle with a wine glass sloshing in one hand and a grin stretched wide across a flushed face. “It’s been such a long time my friend!”

  The corpulent man could barely walk straight as he gulped down the rest of his wine.

  “It's been a month.” Karl deadpanned. The man was oblivious to the looks he was getting from everyone around him.

  “And a month is too long!” Harmen placed the empty glass on the tray of a passing servant. “How have you been? And is this your lovely wife? She…Has very nice eyes!”

  “Ah yes, I’ve been well enough,” Karl chose to ignore the other man’s second question. “Is your father with you by any chance?”

  “Father? No, no, he’s sick. So he sent his most precious son, me! He told me to be on my best behaviour and to come back alive. Ha! As if this nest of noble vipers could ever do anything to the heir of a trading empire!”

  Karl winced at the insult, as a few of the surrounding nobles that had been listening in noticeably bristled.

  Corwin cleared his throat, “And who might you be?”

  Harmen executed a bow so theatrical, it bordered on mockery. “Harmen Aldeen, and you? And that beautiful lady besides you?”

  “Corwin Roelle, acting Chairman of The Wrainwrights.” Just like Karl, Corwin chose to ignore his second question.

  “This is truly a grand occasion then! Three of the four greatest merchant families in Briss! All in one place!”

  The man was far too loud—painfully loud—for the occasion. Karl could barely hear the music over the sheer volume of his voice.

  “Yes…” Corwin nodded faintly, the rest of his thoughts left unspoken. Not that Harmen noticed. No, he was still lost in his own world.

  Karl needed to get back on track. He needed to warn Corwin, and now that Harmen was here, he’d have to warn the fool also. The man was likely to not survive the night if he continued acting like he was. You could say a lot of things about the man, a lot of negative things. But that did not mean that Karl wanted him dead.

  He cleared his throat before Harmen could get started again. “Might we take the conversation elsewhere?”

  “Elsewhere?” Corwin raised an eyebrow.

  “Yes, somewhere more…private.”

  “Perfect! My man! Always the enterprising sort.” Harmen clapped him on the shoulder, and Karl stumbled slightly as he nodded.

  It wasn’t exactly business per se, but as long as they could get somewhere more discreet. He wouldn’t want to get on the royal family's bad side by causing a panic and ruining the occasion. Especially with a World Noble en route.

  “A splendid idea, I was just about to bring it up!” Harmen turned and marched towards the far corner of the ballroom, somewhere a little more removed from the crowd. Corwin, after exchanging a few words with his daughter, followed right after him.

  Karl shot Jane a quick look, and she nodded imperceptibly. With that one look, they’d held an entire conversation.

  “Liora, I would be glad to introduce you to some people I know, although it seems that–-.” Karl didn’t hear the rest of Jane’s sentence as he followed after the two merchants.

  He wove around the nobles, exchanging bows, nods, handshakes, and curtsies, their names barely registering as he flew past. Until he met a noble that seemed oddly familiar.

  “Karl Brooks, or is it Victor Ellington now?” The older man he was shaking hands with smiled, the skin wrinkling around his sharp blue eyes. He sported a long white beard that, for some reason, twisted Karl’s stomach into a knot.

  “How did you find the food at The Swan’s Grace?”

  Karl gulped. Now he remembered. This was… What was his name?!

  “Wilfred Fitzroy, it’s a pleasure to make your acquaintance once more.” The man chuckled dryly, at Karls surprised face.

  “No, I’m not reading your mind young man, it was written all over your face.” He let go of Karl’s hand, his smile buried beneath his well-combed beard. “So, how did you like the food?”

  Karl took a moment to catch up to the conversation. “It was good. Really good.”

  “I’m glad. Well, don’t let me hold you up, and if ever you want to deal in tamed beasts, don’t hesitate to contact me.” The man held out a silver card edged in gold filigree.

  Karl accepted it, still a bit dazed, and glanced down to find Wilfred’s Den Den Mushi contact etched in golden characters across its polished surface.

  “I’ll…Yes, I’ll make sure to…consider that.”

  Wilfred dipped his head. “That’s all I ask.”

  Karl turned, and just as he was about to leave, three sharp beats rang out—each one from a staff striking the marble floor.

  “They’re here,” Wilfred whispered from behind him, as the music that had filled the room gradually faded into silence.

  “Now presenting—His Royal Highness, Prince Silas Theoden Briss, heir apparent to House Theoden. His Royal Highness, Crown Prince Caius Aurelian Briss, of House Aurelian, and—”

  The Herald slammed the staff once, and the hall fell into total silence. “His Royal Majesty, King Alden the Seventh, long may he reign!”

  Karl, Wilfred and every other guest and noble in attendance hastily dropped to one knee as the King entered the room, his two sons trailing behind him.

  He stopped just before the railing and looked over the entire ballroom.

  “Rise,” he said, his sonorous voice easily carrying across the silence.

  Karl, and everyone else stood up, watching as the King nodded to someone behind him and out of view. He then turned back to them.

  “Today, is a day like none other. We…” He trailed off with a grimace, and looked back once more. Then he sighed, a tired, heavy sigh. “We are to be joined shortly by none other than Saint Augustin Figarland, the…greatest adventurer to ever sail the four Blues.”

  Shocked murmurs rippled across the gathered crowd below him, and the King’s face turned deadly serious.

  “None may leave. We are nothing before a Celestial Dragon. You all know how to act…To do otherwise is treason.”

  You could have heard a pin drop in the silence that followed his statement. “Treason of the highest order,” the King continued. “We will personally—if the Kingdom survives His wrath—order the extermination of your entire line.”

  The silence was deafening. “That is all. We have a scant few minutes before his arrival. Be ready.”

  So yeah…Sorry this chapter took so long. I have a rough idea of what I want to see happen in this first arc of the story, but I always struggle to find the time to actually write it…

  Also, I’m trying to get a backlog going, and yeah… *clears throat awkwardly* …I’ll post the backlog on patreon. But, I'm obliged to say that all chapters will eventually be posted on public forums.

  Feel free to hop in to check it out. I’ll have the backlog for this story and other stories I’m writing there. There isn't much there yet. But there will be, at some point.

  Thanks for reading!

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