Bab 51: Spoiled woman
Greystones
The castle.
...
Sir Richard sat at a large desk reviewing a list from a scroll.
In front of him were several men.
"Sir Richard, the Dulieve Households sent a letter. They made mention of the grievances they suffered in the allocation of battle spoils and hope you can reconsider." One young knight in his late twenties spoke.
"The allocations were made based on alibis given by others who witnessed the battle. That is the only way to determine each household's contributions and valour in battle. The Dulieves allocations were also finalized this way. Even though it may be slightly unfair, there is not much we can do about that." Sir Richard replied wearily waving the young man away.
"Sir, A fight broke out between the Junavils and the Verrerons last night over the former Heriavis manor. Ten men were killed and thirty Gold Trites worth of property and equipment were destroyed in a small fire." Another knight reported.
"Who was the manor allocated to in the first place?" Sir Richard asked.
"It was initially allocated to the Junavils but was later withdrawn and transferred over to the Verrerons. A letter in regards to the withdrawal was sent by messenger to the Junavils, but the messenger got drunk at a brothel midway and later robbed of his transport fee, delaying the letter's arrival by three days." The knight explained.
"By the time the letter arrived the fight over ownership of the manor had already peaked."
"Publicly behead the messenger and send delegates with letters of apologies to the households involved. Later meet the castle's treasurers to transfer five gold Trites to the families that lost men in that conflict." Sir Richard said waving off the other knight before ticking off another appeal on the list in his hand.
One after the other the knights came up to give reports or make appeals on behalf of their households. Sir Richard dealt with all these problems with respectable efficiency.
A few hours later the middle-aged knight finally fulfilled the last appeal of the day and tottered away to his chambers wearily.
Sir Richard's workload had been very high lately. The task of managing the entire capital, hence the kingdom fell squarely on his shoulders.
Managing a kingdom had always been a delicate time-consuming affair. In a feudal system such as Algrim's a lot of things need to be taken strongly into consideration before any decision can be made.
From the pride of major noble families to the interest of the minor nobles all the way to the influence of other powers. Even the common people's opinions need to be dealt with closely so as to prevent an uprising.
Political pitfalls abound in every decision to be made. With so many things to consider, even a common yes or no question to the right person could make or break the kingdom.
And despite the fact that the invasion happened weeks ago, chaos still ensues in the capital's undercurrent. Fights between nobles break out on a daily basis even for the most stupid of reasons, dissatisfaction -a result of their innate greed- abounds in the hearts of many aristocrats wanting to have the largest share of the loot regardless of their efforts.
And despite the bountiful spoils to be earned, it still seems insufficient in the eyes of many. Spoils that they normally wouldn't even be privileged to gain became something they suddenly can't have enough of.
Sir Richard sighed at the vanity of it all. He had long seen the truth in everything.
In power, wealth and affluence no truth exists.
No love.
No trust.
Only cold emotionless deceit, hypocrisy and underhandedness
Knocking on his room door, a young woman in her late twenties appeared.
"Welcome, master." The lady said with a delicate smile on her face.
Looking at her, Sir Richard's weary heart felt a dash of relief.
"How are you, Lyre?" He asked running his hand through the meek woman's dark brown hair.
Her eyes were sky blue and her red nose petite.
"Fine, Master. Please come in, dinner just arrived." Pulling him in intimately, her lark like voice sounded.
Chuckling, he walked in. The stress from managing Greystones appeared to have been alleviated.
Allowing himself to be dragged inside he looked around his chambers which sometimes served as his laboratory when he has a sudden bout of inspiration.
The normally scattered vials were neatly arranged in shelves by the wall and his numerous note piled in a neat stack on his desk.
Seating at a table, his meal was placed in front of him after which miss Lyre skipped over to her own seat across him with her own tray.
"You haven't eaten yet?" Sir Richard asked with a frown.
"No, Master. I wanted to wait till you arrived." Lyre said causing sir Richards's frown to deepen.
"What did I say about you starving yourself? Why so stubborn, woman!" Sir Richard scolded sternly.
"..."
Seeing Lyre bowing her head silently without speaking, he sighed.
"Will you do that again, woman?"
"..."
"Ai... You won't listen, would you?" He sighed again.
Then he chuckled softly.
"Fine then, Spoiled woman."
Looking up Lyre had a faint smile on her face and started eating.
Quiet at first, the middle-aged knight couldn't stand the silence for too long and started talking about his day.
He complained about those greedy aristocrats and their foolish feuds, meanwhile miss Lyre listened on quietly with a small smile.
Occasionally, she would let out a soft giggle whenever the old knight made a distressful attempt at cracking a joke or accidentally made a face out of frustration.
The scene was a peaceful one.
When they finished their meal, miss Lyre packed up the dishes before returning with a letter.
"Master." She called out hesitantly.
"Huh?"
"A letter arrived earlier today from Hertalese. It was sent by Lady Voyan, your wife."
"Oh... Hand it over."
Miss Lyre watched with a tense expression as the knight read through the letter. For a long time, ever since she had started serving Sir Richard she had long been aware that the knight was dissatisfied with his wife.
His mood usually turned sour whenever he heard her name.
Sir Richard read the letter for a short while before simply tossing it aside.
"What's wrong, master?" Lyre asked rubbing down Sir Richard's shoulders. She knew this was an effective way to level his mood.
"It's nothing. Just the blasted woman pestering me about getting her stupid son a promotion again and sending a letter to settle some stupid territorial disputes for her father. Everything is just so stupid, don't worry too much about it."
"Ok, master." Lyre said plainly still massaging his shoulders
"Should I get you a drink, master?"
"No, just some water would be fine."
"Ok, master."
"Lyre."
"Yes, master?"
"Thank you."
Sir Richard watched as the young woman skipped away blushing.
Walking to the portion of his temporary residence, where his laboratory equipment is stored he sighed shaking his head to ease his bad mood.
Standing by the shelf he pulled out some vials and sloshed the liquid inside gently.
'A failure, failure, another failure.' He muttered looking a the vial's contents through the candlelight.
'Oh, these two have some promise. I should probably start new tests tomorrow before I leave.'
"What is it, master? Is that another elixir for me?" Lyre asked peering at the vials from underneath his arm.
"No, not yet at least. I still need to do some tests to make sure the elixir is safe for you to consume first." Sir Richard said offhandedly writing down something on a slip of parchment.
"So we won't do that today then?" The young lady asked with a pouting blush on her face.
Turning to face her, Sir Richard asked.
"Do you want to?"
"Hmm." She nodded with a deepened blush.
"I will go get ready, Master."
But before he could say anything she had already skipped away with a reddened face.
"Spoiled woman." Sir Richard chuckled shaking his head.
Just as he was looking through more vials he heard a knocking on the door.
He walked up to open it.
Outside a servant stood with a letter.
The knight receive it and returned to his desk. Breaking the seal he read the contents and at the bottom was Prince Everhard's royal signature.
'He returned safely. Oh, thank goodness.' Letting out a relieved sigh, Sir Richard took the letter and set it ablaze making sure it was completely burnt away.
Clearing away the soot Lyre returned.
"What happened, Master?"
"Oh, it's nothing much, just some old notes." He replied looking up to the young woman holding his waist.
Lyre had changed out of her dress and hoses. She now wore a single-piece silk nightie that Sir Richard remembered buying for her on a certain trip to Merchant's bay, Serbia.
The soft clothing clung to her petite body and outlined her moderate curves.
Feeling Sir Richard's heated stare on her, her blush deepened.
"Master, I am-" She spoke but was interrupted midway.
With a soft yelp, she was passionately lifted by the older man.
"You are one really spoiled woman, you know that?" He growled walking to the bedroom.
PERTIMBANGAN PENCIPTA 
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