CHAPTER 10
Jezebel lounged on a luxurious couch adorned with gold ribbon. She stretched out her arms and crossed her legs daintily in front of her. “Isn't this wonderful?” she purred to Renee, who stood looking out the window.
The large woman turned towards her at the inquiry and gushed, “Oh yes. It would be so perfect to live here at the palace all the time. They have such beautiful gardens, and wonderful food, and everything is so,” she paused, searching for the word, “perfect,” she finished with a sigh, looking longingly around the room.
Jezebel smiled at her, amused by her obvious awe of their surroundings. Jezebel knew that this was really where she belonged, and no more than what she deserved. Her manor was far too small for a woman of her stature, and she was determined to move up into her proper place in life. That was why she needed to gain a Council seat, and had initially been looking for her father's support for one. Her mood soured slightly as she remembered the episode where she had asked for it. His refusal soon won’t matter though, she reminded herself. In exchange for loyalty and obedience, the Order would help you get what you wanted. Or at least the semblance of loyalty, she amended. Frustratingly, that little rat of a man, Jonathan, had left before she could ask any questions. Therefore, she was currently stalled in her plans. Since she had no way of contacting him, she was left in a position of simply waiting until he chose to contact her again. She could feel herself getting worked up and fought down the emotions, stroking the soft fabric of the couch to soothe herself.
Just then, a knock sounded at the door and a flutter of excitement replaced her earlier anxiety. “Come in,” she answered, cutting off Renee's acknowledgment.
Three maids entered, each carrying yards of fabric that threatened to overwhelm them. They quickly set the cloth on the unused furniture, and then curtsied to the two ladies. Once they had properly addressed the two women, the maids proceeded to unravel each of the lengths in front of Jezebel and Renee. Renee took a seat on the couch next to Jezebel and took a fold of the first yard in her hand.
“Oh, feel this one,” she cooed, “it's simply divine.”
Jezebel reached out her own elaborately adorned fingers towards the cloth and stroked it softly. The fabric was silky under her touch, and it shone where the light touched it. The deep red seemed to shimmer and flow across the fabric as if it were real wine. “Hmm,” she murmured thoughtfully. “Perhaps. I'll have to see the others though. Come along, dear,” she said to the maid as she tossed the bit of fabric back up the length. “Let's see the next one.”
The girl hastened to comply and brought out the next, a deep blue velvet. “What do you think the new King is like?” asked Renee, running her hands all over the velvet in a completely undignified manner. “I hear that he's some back-country royalty that laid claim to the throne after Edward's death. Somehow he got the entire Council to agree to appoint him even though he's from so far north.”
“Yes,” Jezebel replied. “As you know, my father is quite influential with the Council and he told me that Lord - excuse me - King Nathair was found to be a far distant cousin of Edward. The Council determined him to be next in line since his father, the Baron Asheron, just died last year. Plus, I hear he's made quite a name for himself on the battlefield. I expect he'll be looking for a bride soon as well. Do you think he likes green?” she asked, holding a delicate emerald fabric up to her cheek and batting her eyes.
Renee laughed. “Do you think he might be looking for one at the ceremony?”
Jezebel shrugged. “You never know. Men look for it everywhere.” She emphasized the word and gave Renee a conspiratorial look before saying effusively, “Wouldn't it be wonderful to snag the King? Just think of the power you'd get, and the allowance!” She trailed off, happily day-dreaming.
“Assuming he'd make a good husband, of course,” added Renee.
“Of course,” Jezebel answered agreeably. As long as he's a good husband who knows to always listen to his dear wife. Jezebel had heard quite a bit about the King from her father, but she didn't care to share the information with Renee. The woman was far too wrapped up in her domestic duties to have even an inkling of matters of real importance.
Jezebel had gotten her father to let her in on the secret that their new King might be amendable to loosening the priests’ tight control on the use of talent. He was apparently already working to establish training facilities outside their supervision and there was talk of trying to open modes of communication with Treymayne to gather more knowledge about the magical arts.
Following the downfall of the Dark King, the people in Gelendan were initially too relieved to be rid of the tyrant to worry too much about what would happen to the future of magic-use following the mass book-burning that had taken place. The destruction of all this knowledge, combined with the depletion of talent that the Massacre had caused, greatly diminished Gelendan’s ability to utilize this important aspect of life. And it was now further limited by the priests’ constraints. The country had become far more handicapped in this respect than anyone had realized at first, and more so than many admitted even now. This handicap was made obvious, at least to Jezebel, by the magical barrier that had sprung up between Gelendan and Treymayne.
To Jezebel's knowledge, no one in Gelendan even understood the properties of the barrier, much less had any idea how to get past it or what kind of people were on the other side of it. Most of the commoners believed that Treymayne had just stopped allowing people to pass; they didn't realize that it was magic that kept it that way. If they knew, no doubt there would be a lot more unrest about their own country's lack of talent. Though their isolation made it difficult to determine what level of talent they actually possessed, there was whispered talk that their level and use of it was much greater than Gelendan’s own. Luckily, they were much smaller physically so even if this were true, Jezebel had no doubt that Gelendan could crush them.
When King Nathair revealed his plans, there would be those opposed to the idea of bringing back more magic, when it was magic that had been so intimately tangled with the pain and destruction that the Dark King had caused. It had become the scape-goat for the Dark Age, and even now there were many who were afraid of its use in any form. However, there were many others who saw the importance of regaining this knowledge, and no doubt the commoners could be convinced as well, simply by reminding them that the status of talent in Treymayne was unknown and could potentially greatly outweigh what there was in Gelendan. With a few hints that Treymayne’s greater magical talent would give them an advantage if the two countries ever had a conflict, even those who were against it would be sure to see the logic of regaining the information. Given these facts, Jezebel had great hopes that perhaps in her lifetime she would get to see the results of some real magic.
They had magic now, of course, she was trained to use it and did so from time to time, but using magic was like learning a language. If the teachers were lacking in their own vocabulary, it was difficult to attain any great level of proficiency as the student. She could activate surviving spells and perform a dozen petty tricks, but it was nothing compared to the magics of old. It was said that the old talents could call lightening with a flick of their wrist, transport objects and even people over large distances in the blink of an eye, and manipulate beasts into obeying their will. Jezebel couldn't imagine what it was like to have that kind of power, but she wanted to very badly. Though the Dark King was said to have fallen prey to madness, he was also known as one of the most powerful mages ever in history. In a way, she admired him despite his eventual failure. He had the entire country so in fear and awe of him that they actually killed their neighbors and friends as he named them unworthy. He had possessed the power of persuasion as well as being one of the most powerful mages of his time. Jezebel wondered if he had used mass mind control, which apparently was possible, or if he was simply that charismatic.
The pri
ests had surprisingly taught them about mind control in their training, but even this lesson had only consisted with the basics. She had been rather astonished to learn that it would be included in their course, but her father had explained that it was because it ironically was one of the easier spells to do. People naturally tried to convince others to think like them, and when they did so while touching the power, oftentimes they could happen upon a spell which would carry out this wish. Therefore, the priests had learned that it was better just to tell people about it and how to prevent it, rather than dealing with the issues it was bound to cause after the fact.
Renee's nasal voice interrupted her wandering thoughts and she was abruptly brought back to the present. “Do you know anyone who's actually seen him?” Renee asked, forcing Jezebel to wrack her brain to remember what drivel it was that she was talking about with Renee. Oh, yes. The King's oh-so-important appearance. She shrugged in response.
Renee went on cheerfully, “It seems as though no one knows what he looks like, but I'm dying to find out. One can't have a husband who doesn't inspire baby-making either,” she joked.
Jezebel managed to give her a small smile, but the woman was beginning to irritate her. She was a harebrained fool with no motivation beyond finding a husband and doing her wifely duty of producing lots of offspring. Not that offspring don't have their own uses as well, I suppose. Having young pliable minds that would listen to me above anyone else…hmm...maybe Renee has a point after all. She brought her attention back to the fabrics and brought out a particularly hideous gold one. “Why don't you use this one,” she suggested to Renee. “It would bring out your eyes.”
Renee held it up to herself doubtfully, and a maid dutifully moved the mirror so that she could see. “You really think so?”
“Oh yes,” Jezebel lied smoothly. “It's simply gorgeous.”