Chapter Text
Her ladyship's shriek pierces the newly fallen stillness, and it's only just enough to tear Constantin's attention away from his cousin, though he continues to clutch tightly at his hand. Conrad's skin burns beneath his fingers, red between the knuckles from when they've clenched against the bleeding gash in his palm. His chest rises and falls in shallow, gasping fits. Constantin, by contrast, feels ice cold through and through, and as he lifts his gaze to where Kurt has Lady Morange held at knifepoint, his breath quivers in his chest with black, abominable fury.
"What have you done to him?" Constantin demands, following Kurt to the same conclusion he'd drawn after interrogating Conrad: that there is some wicked plot at work here, some evil born of hatred or envy, and that it most likely whispered between the lips of a bottle of wine. Meant for both of them, only Constantin had not had the stomach for it. Now his stomach twists and clenches with anxiety, even as his mind reels through the possibilities. "If this is poison, then there had best be an antidote; if this is illness, then there had best be a cure; for if this kills my cousin, then there will be nothing but ash left of your city when I am through with it, and by my own hand I will cast you into the very deepest pit of hell!"
Lady Morange, to her credit, had been startled by the violence with which Kurt had grabbed her, his bare fist shamelessly clutching the top of her bodice, his blade teasing mere inches away from the curve of her breast---but she's fearless now. She has her hands raised in supplication, but her voice rings with defiant innocence, "It is none of my doing, I swear it on the lives of every soul upon this island! Tell your brute to unhand me and let me send for a healer, for the nearest physician of Al Saad, for a priest, for whomever you require---"
The situation is further complicated by the abrupt return of Lord Seville, armed with an antique rifle and trembling with his own fit of rage as he levels it directly at Kurt's head, his voice shrill and wavering as he demands, "Release the Lady Morange at once! Her ladyship knows nothing of what has happened, it was all my doing!"
Kurt is not about to be shot by some elderly courtier with a blunderbuss, and this is proven doubly true as Lady Morange reaches boldly for the barrel of the rifle and forces it towards the ground, with a horrified objection, "Dominic, no! What have you done?"
Effectively disarmed, the former legate's shoulders slump miserably, and he releases his hold on the weapon, which Kurt snatches neatly away and reverses, pointing the barrel warningly between the two nobles, as he backs away, back towards his two royal charges and Vasco, who cradles his injured arm, the base of the goblet still jutting from his shoulder like a bizarre crystalline blossom.
"One of you will need to fetch the guard," Kurt instructs, sparing a brief glance between Vasco and Constantin, and already knows that the Governor will not be parted from his legate in any circumstance, and so it will have to be Vasco. And Vasco will need specific instruction, "One of our people, someone known to you from the voyage, no one from the local barracks. And a medic, anyone will do, but best if they have a pedigree out of Al Saad---" he shoots a dark glare at Lord Seville, "---the Enlightened will bring no mercy for sinners here."
"I meant no harm!" Lord Seville cries in protest, clutching and clinging at Lady Morange's sleeves, as she tries to hold him steady, her hands tight on his arms as he babbles in increasing panic. "On my life, I did not mean to harm, only to humble, in the manner that my lady was humbled upon her arrival---and not the legate, but the Governor, for it is he for whom my lady must resign the position she has loved so well…"
"Oh, Dominic," Lady Morange murmurs, despairing. "You do not know my heart and mind, if you claim to have done this for my sake." She turns away from her legate, and takes a step towards her guests, sinking to her knees in a gesture of genuine sorrow, prostration, and addressing Constantin directly, "My lord, I can only beg for your mercy, if I deserve none of your forgiveness for what has been done in my name. I can only offer my own long-ago humiliation as an assurance that your dearest cousin will suffer no lasting harm. I will tell you everything, but first I will tell you that it must be an islander whose aid we seek, it must be my friend Siora. You are newly arrived, you will not know her yet. She camps to the east, in a small glade on the outskirts of the city, awaiting my word that she should seek an audience with the Governor. We must fetch her immediately."
"I will go---" her legate tries lamely, only for Kurt to cock the rifle and point it in his direction again.
"Like hell. You're going to be locked in whatever room will best hold you, to await the Governor's justice. Vasco will go."
Vasco still cradles his injured arm, but nods in agreement, and moves to leave immediately, though Lady Morange catches the hem of his jacket as he passes, to add, "Mention my name--call me Laurine--and she will help you. She is doneigad of her clan, and a healer after the island's custom. Your wound will be a mere trifle to her, and she will know what to do about poor Lord De Sardet." She lets Vasco go, and then steels herself, and looks up to Kurt with only the slightest tremor in her voice. "I beg you, good captain, do not involve the rest of the guard. They will not understand what has happened here, and I swear to you that I can explain. You may restrain Lord Seville in whatever manner you deem worthy, by his own admission he has acted against your people---but the brutality of the Coin Guard will serve no useful end tonight."
"I will do as my Lord D'orsay commands me," Kurt answers, blunt and ostensibly unfeeling, though Constantin knows well enough what it sounds like when Kurt is out for blood, and suspects that he wants to be told to summon the Governor's guard and deal out the Governor's justice. It would be the simplest answer.
And yet…
Constantin feels surrounded on all sides by more decisive men than he is himself---even Lord Seville---and when Kurt looks to him for a ruling, he's seized by the desire to shake Conrad awake and ask what he should do. His heart still burns with fury towards the former legate, but somehow he still trusts Lady Morange. Her protests of innocence ring true, just the same as her offer of help, and her insistence that they need the aid of a native healer. Even Kurt hadn't thought to question that, and Constantin wonders if Conrad would have.
Conrad still lies unconscious on the courtyard flagstones, feverish, but beginning to stir slightly, beyond just spasming twitches of his hands and eyelids. To see his cousin so suddenly and completely incapacitated makes Constantin feel uniquely helpless, undercut in a way that reveals his dependence on Conrad for the weakness that it is. He's the stronger, smarter, better of the pair of them. All Constantin has to redeem his own deficiency is Conrad's belief that he can do better than he thinks, and the ability to ask himself what Conrad would do.
And the fact that right now, Conrad needs him.
There are worse things to have to rely on.
Conrad would want him to be careful. Conrad would recognize this for the delicate situation that it is, and not let his heart rule his head. Conrad would want him to deliberate, to very carefully weigh the value of Lady Morange's favour, and to know that the transgression committed on her behalf gives him the leverage to put her squarely in his debt and on his side, in his position as Governor. Kurt is angry because one of his two charges has come to harm, and it offends his honour that it could happen right beneath his nose. Kurt craves justice, but justice needs truth. Kurt will do whatever he's told, even if his personal preference would be otherwise.
"Secure the Lord Seville wherever you deem appropriate," he starts, and steels himself against the possibility of Kurt's disagreement or disappointment. He keeps his gaze fixed on Conrad as he tries to do what he hopes his cousin would. "We do not need the guard until we have better answers, which Lady Morange had best be ready to provide. Be quick, Kurt. I think he's starting to come back around, and if he wakes up fighting mad again, I don't know that I could handle him alone."
"As you say, my Lord Governor."
Maybe he mistakes it, but Constantin imagines a ringing note of approval in Kurt's tone, and he shoulders the rifle and advances on Lord Seville to enforce his orders. Constantin glances at Lady Morange and sees her watching, fretful but silent. She flinches as Kurt roughly seizes hold of her legate, and Constantin makes a tactical addendum, "And do not make yourself an example of the 'brutality of the Coin Guard' that her ladyship so fears. Firm, but gentle please, Captain."
This is received with an annoyed but obedient grunt, and Kurt quickly hustles Lord Seville back into the building. Lady Morange watches him go from where she still kneels on the flagstones, and then releases a tremulous sigh before offering Constantin a sad attempt at a smile, as he lays a hand on his cousin's forehead.
"My sincere thanks to you, your Excellency," she begins, and it occurs to Constantin abruptly that they are three of the most powerful people on this island, and certainly the most powerful in New Serene, and all three of them have been brought pitifully low by the circumstances, huddled on the flagstones of her Ladyship's garden in the dark of night. "I think you'll forgive me saying that your mercy and your wisdom are certainly not the products of your father's court, but I could not have hoped for better. I am so terribly sorry for what Dominic has done."
"What has he done?" Beneath the palm of his hand, Constantin feels Conrad's brow furrow as he grimaces in apparent pain. His teeth clench and a whimper chokes from the back of his throat. He mumbles something incoherent and his eyes flutter open for a moment---but then fail to focus on anything, before rolling backward into unseeing white, and sliding closed again. Something in him seems to settle, and the twitches and spasms dwindle and cease, as he stops fighting from beneath the surface of awareness. He goes still, but for the rise and fall of his chest as he breathes. Constantin feels dread pooling within him, with the question he does not want answered, and his voice splinters as he asks it, "...Will Conrad die?"
"No," Lady Morange answers decisively, but there's a grim cast to her expression, and her eyes still reflect a tangible sadness. She sighs and shakes her head to herself, before she goes on to offer the first hint of an answer to how she knows what has happened--- "Dominic spoke truly, when he said he only meant to teach humility and not to cause harm. But Dominic has only seen this affliction once before, and that was when it afflicted me. I must tell you honestly that he will suffer, and suffer the worse if Siora does not see to him. I hope she gets here soon."