Jacob
Juliana de Barbaric and Anise de Lancret

High Bloom Palace, Erilla


Sunshine poured in through the open window and the sweet song of birds drifted on the warm, spring breeze that was laden with the scent of thousands of flowers in the garden far below. The room itself was rather large, certainly fit for the princess that lived within its walls. A four-poster bed with a canopy overtop faced the window so that, in the mornings, the sun would shine in on it. The stone floor was covered by a thick, elaborate carpet, a large tapestry hung on one of the walls, and there was a little seating area in the middle that consisted of a low tea table, a couple of settees, and stools. Along two of the walls were large bookshelves from floor to ceiling, with every one brimming with books, which were of course accompanied by a desk and a stiff-backed wooden chair. Near the window stood an empty easel, and in the corner stood a virginal. The top was open to reveal a beautiful hand-painted mural of the gardens below, while black keys with raised white sharp and flat keys stood at attention beneath it, all perfectly in tune and in order, as it should be. 


Yet closer inspection revealed that this was not the chamber of any normal royal child. Everything was ornate perhaps, but a closer look revealed scuffs and scratches in most of the furniture, and everything had a worn, used look to it, save for the twin blue settees which looked as if they had never been sat upon a day in their life. To be fair, they hadn't, as Anise was restricted to only hard-backed chairs until she learned to sit like a lady with proper posture. The large wardrobe was devoid of all the finery that one would expect a royal child to have; in fact, it was empty of any clothes at all.

The iron lattice, although currently open, closed at night and locked with a key, the delicate vine pattern serving to keep Anise in place, while the heavy oak doors locked from the outside and were guarded by two royal guards at all times.

The princess herself was perhaps the most curious feature of the room. Indeed, she looked more like a peasant girl than a princess, clad in the rags that her grandmother had given to her after failing to keep her dress clean the last time. Her auburn hair, which had been put into two braids that went all the way down her back this morning, had already begun to slip free from its bonds, leaving the braids unruly and frayed. It was so very different from the coarse, straight, raven black hair of her mother and grandmother, a fact which Juliana no doubt further resented her for. 


Currently, Anise was staring longingly out the window at the gardens below. With spring here, she found herself pining for the outside world all the more, a fact which she had written about extensively in her journals. She had even written a story about a princess who escaped from a tower where she was held by a wicked witch and then went on an adventure to save the kingdom from a dragon and was reunited with her mother! How she wished to feel the grass and dirt beneath her feet, to go racing through the gardens, and to not worry one bit about her posture and getting stains in her clothes! 


Anise had felt more stifled than ever since the previous stain test. As punishment, Juliana had placed her in rags, which in one sense was good as she no longer had to worry quite so much about staining her clothes; however, as it had been mostly paints that had been the ruin of the last dress, Juliana had taken away all of her paints and canvases, leaving behind an empty, forlorn easel.

For the moment, Anise was enjoying a brief break from her lessons and had the room to herself, which was rare. Next would be her lessons in etiquette and posture. The very thought made her wrinkle her nose in disgust! The lessons were little more than torture, forced to sit in the hard, uncomfortable chairs and tied to them so that her back was perfectly straight. It was, unfortunately, a daily occurrence, as were all her other lessons. Her days were a monotonous cycle of lessons and indoor activities, all meant to foster her into being a young "Lady", suitable for her future husband. How she hated that word! 


Outside her cloister, however, the plague had begun to infiltrate Araedia and sent a pall of fear over everyone. Even Juliana was not immune to it, though she hid it perfectly as she gave orders for how to best deal with it. Bodies and belongings of those afflicted were burned, herbalists were called upon to find a cure, and cities were quarantined, with soldiers standing at every gate to see to it that no one went in or out. Somehow, it still seemed to spread, and Juliana felt more and more that increasingly drastic measures would need to be taken. Of course, even Anise was not completely unaffected by the spread of the plague. The number of people allowed into her chambers had been reduced to only the bare essentials. A single maid to take care of her needs, and only three tutors: one for schooling, one for music, and one for general court etiquette; the art tutor had been promptly fired with the stain fiasco. Not surprisingly, Juliana had selected the most strict of the staff to stay on, and Anise found herself with fewer allies than ever before. She felt as if she were rotting away in this coffin of a room. It wasn't difficult to envision herself as a doll, or rather a puppet, clasped tightly by the gnarled hand of the queen, and with the plague bearing down on them, the queen's grip tightened all the more.

Anise, as of yet, had not heard of the plague, however, so she assumed that this was all simply punishment for the stain in her dress and her poor etiquette at the last banquet, which had been several months ago. She had not seen the queen since then, nor heard anything of her. 


She was roused from her thoughts by the sound of the metal latch lifting and the wooden door creaking open. Without even looking to see who it was, she left the window and went to the desk to pick up her penmanship exercises, of which her etiquette teacher was in charge. "I finished my writing exercises last night, Master Drak-" 


"I have no interest in your penmanship exercises," Came the sharp, cold voice that interrupted her. 

Anise's already pale face went another shade paler as she quickly dropped her lessons and turned to face the queen, dropping into a deep curtsy before standing at attention and lifting her chin to meet Juliana's sharp green eyes with her own. "I'm sorry, Your Majesty," She said, stumbling over her words a bit. "I thought-"

"I know what you thought," Interrupted Juliana once again. "You clearly have not learned the etiquette to greet your guests and be attentive to those who enter the room. Now quit your babbling."


She shut the door firmly behind her and advanced upon Anise, who seemed to shrink even smaller as she approached. "Stand up straight!" She barked,then flipped open a small blue notebook to a page she had marked. The handwriting in it was unmistakable. "Now, as I was saying, your penmanship clearly has not improved." She then held out the notebook towards Anise, holding it gingerly with two fingers, far away from her body as her nose wrinkled in disgust. 


"Please, Your Majesty, I can explain!" Whimpered Anise. 


"Silence!" Hissed Juliana, snapping the book shut. Her emerald eyes flashed dangerously, and Anise quickly fell silent and stared down at the floor. "I have never read such drivel in all of my life, nor have I tried to decipher such terrible penmanship." 


Her voice was cold, icy, belying the fury that bubbled beneath. Though that was true for Juliana all the time, really. Whatever she truly felt was hidden beneath a mask that suited the situation, and the default was calm and cold. With Anise, there was really only one mask to wear: cold and contemptuous. Ever since the maid had stumbled across the journal that Anise had hidden beneath the mattress, Juliana had been fuming. The absolute stupidity she had found in those pages! The child's scrawl that spat out nothing but mindless dreams with no real substance. All of these tutors-all of this expense and education-and yet this was what the child thought of? She was meant to become queen in just a few years! The very thought gave Juliana a chill. This child, whether she took the throne or not, always seemed to signal the doom of Araedia.

"You want to go outside?" Juliana continued, her voice almost taunting. "You think I'm some cruel monster because you're not allowed to go out? You don't know what lies beyond these walls. You are completely unprepared for any of the challenges you will face out there! An addlepated child that is an embarrassment to this entire household, just like your mother. Well, luckily for you, I have the sense to intervene and stamp the foolishness from your head. I only wish I had done the same for your mother!"

Anise shook a little, tears brimming in her eyes, though years of practice enabled her to keep them in check. She knew better than to cry in front of Juliana! There would be no pity, not even if the tears flowed. 


"Right now there is a plague sweeping through the countryside. Hundreds are dying. Thousands. It starts with a little cough, then they develop sores all over their body and blood pools in their eyes. Believe me, Petal, there are people that would give anything to be where you are. There are people that would kill to be where you are right now. The world out there is dark, and cold, and cruel. If you think you have it harsh here, just remember that I am preparing you for something far worse. I am preparing you for the day when I open the doors to the wolves. Your only hope is in your studies, and you best pray to Xolile that you are ready for when that day comes." 


There was a brief pause before Juliana turned on her heel and marched to the fireplace, though of course there was no fire lit at the moment. Immediately, with her grandmother's attention no longer fixated upon her, Anise's posture worsened. 

"I will be, Your Majesty," She said in as confident a voice as she could muster.

Juliana tossed the book into the fireplace, making Anise wince and nearly start to cry again. All her sketches! All her journal entries! All her dreams and stories! Pausing for a moment, Juliana turned to look back at Anise, her perfectly penciled brow cocking heavenward. "Will you?" She wondered. "With that posture, I somehow doubt it." 

"In any case," She continued, grabbing a firestarter. "The less foolishness that fills that empty head of yours, the more room there is for what you actually need."

The flame sparked to life. 

"And I will see to it that I dispose of all nonsense that enters your life." 

With that, she set the flame to the page, which eagerly tore across the pages, devouring them whole. 

She watched to make sure that the pages were completely burned, then turned to leave. "See to it that I don't have to do this again." 
***
That night, Anise cried herself to sleep, where her dreams were filled with visions of bursting pustules and rotting flesh.
Florence
**Leone Odoriga**
 
**Ag Izono, Lessina**

A stalker of shadows, Leone was trained as an informant of Araedia to not feel fear in the face of the unknown. So much stood true of him. But facing the known? Even in the known there is fear and danger to be had. And sending this message to the queen he had reasonable fear. Why being the bearer of such news as were written in the letter he did not strike much confidence in keeping his job with all he had to report. 
But it had to be done now, he already arranged a courier, shadows were too near for comfort. In the last few days he felt as if he is being watched. Occasionally some mundane lowblood in the streets lingered around him a bit too long for comfort, a stranger in the shadows asking for a match at an inopportune moment. The marks were subtle but Leone understood this to be just the prelude delivered by a force that did not want him there. And so the letter went on its way to the capitol while Leone went on his zig zaggy way back to avoid being followed. 
Whereupon many days later the letter found its way to the High Bloom Palace where it was deciphered and the translated version delivered to the desk of the Queen and it read as such:

*To your majesty I write following my return from the scouting operation to the grand Province of Lessina. Suffice it to say the impression it has left upon yours truly is... Intriguing.
I would like to begin by saying that at the moment the state of the Duchy is acceptable, but I am afraid this is a fluid situation.*
*To begin with as far as economy is concerned Lessina is still one of our major sources of economic strength. While it is away from our river valleys and does not produce as much food as other provinces this is made up by its significant production of industrial plants used to harsher soils, namely hemp. Lessinian hemp is renowned as much within our kingdom as it is outside and foreign merchants are eager to invest in the coming harvests. Majority of the food farming is along the southern parts of the Province while its heartland is primarily hemp, flax and grains along few lesser rivers which form the backbone of an impressive textile manufacture, wherever I went the one thing the local peasantry and even merchants and lesser lords always seemed to have on their minds is the textiles of which there is a great amount to sort through and are prepared and made year round. To the north it is mostly pastures to support cattle primarily done by a peculiar people endemic to Lessinan mountains who are of decidedly shitblood quality. This I say in spite of some quite vulgar rumors I overheard about them being ancient descendants of a Terrsolian kings stock. Rest assured such a connection no one right in mind and keen in eye could make.*

*My general impression travelling through it was that of relative stability in the face of chaos. Duke del Occatona and his decrees which decidedly have about as much to do with sane thought as yours truly has to do with the lowliest shitblood crawling the earth, that is nothing, have brought in certain commotion so to say. The province is rich enough that any short sighted acts would not bring it ruin even with a lackluster governance. There is also a major issue of banditry. Source of all these bandits prowling the woods and mountains is unknown. They have organized to an extent and caused major issues on several occasions, but this is counteracted by the del Occatona household troop which has done an admirable job of pursuing the brigands, bleeding them dry in several major skirmishes. Indeed the men and knights of the troop have taken to calling themselves "His Lordships Bushwhackers" Which albeit unorthodox I believe is fitting and not to their detriment. They are led by one Austaf Pender a former Taemaran mercenary who has taken up post as Marshal of Lessina and leads the household troop in their efforts and with great success.*

*But enough pandering your majesty, it is for the best I cut to the heart of the issue. For I do not think I can tell you much more than this. Someone or something must have had a vested interest in keeping me from learning too much and did a fine job of it. But the information I do possess is telling. It is my belief house del Occatona is not in fact facing a succession crisis as it has been commonly believed ever since their house has been reduced to the reigning duke. Information has come my way implicating that there are del Occatonan blood relatives in neighboring Terresol in positions of power who would have a strong claim on Lessina in case its throne went empty and potentially remove the whole province from our sphere of influence wether by peace or sword.*

*Thus we come to the currently only surviving native del Occatona. After the disastrous cavalry charge during battle against the old rebellion which tragically culled the house and the infighting that followed Zelto del Occatona became the only heir to the throne. What rumors I heard and little I've seen of the eponymous Duke I can only conclude that his mind is... Disturbed. Tho he is twenty seven summers of age he acts as if mere ten. Led more by instinct than any rational thought he has proclaimed many a thing in Lessina such as requiring man sized holes be cut in houses to help light and air flow in, banning the singing of epic songs on mondays and hired his gardening staff based on the lengths of their noses. An erratic individual with no sense of the greater scope of things. Again I mist stress some force did not want me to delve deep and thus my knowledge is incomplete, but my best assumption is that the current Provincial governor Rolen Menti is the real power in the land. I see no other way for if Zelto had direct control the province would have been far gone by now. Rolen along with Marshal Austaf and Stewardess Aerada Sattianerio are highly likely to be the real power behind the province.*

*Your faithful servant*

*Leone Odoriga*
Jacob
Juliana de Barbaric
High Bloom Palace, Erilla

Juliana read the letter while seated at the desk in her chambers, far from the prying eyes of court and guarded by three guards. Her lips pursed together into a thin line at all the bad news that it brought to her, her fingers gripping the paper tightly. The Province of Lessina was undoubtedly valuable, with all of the hemp and cattle it produced. It was a major economic boon to Araedia, and to lose it to Terresol, of all places!

This Duke del Occatona sounded like an inept fool, however, so he himself should pose little threat. The bandits would keep him occupied enough for now, along with the threat of the plague. At least, it would keep any sane man busy... The realization that the successors of the province resided in Terresol was indeed disturbing, but if they tried to take the throne and claim it for Terresol, they would find their heads rolling and their titles revoked. She would go to war before she just stepped aside and allowed the land to be claimed by a bunch of Terresolians, let alone ones with a dubious pedigree. The thought of even having to deal with their shitblood queen filled her with disgust! Granted, diplomacy was likely a better primary plan of attack, if it came to that. 

Still, she would need more information on this bloodline. If they could find an Araedian successor, that would be optimal. Or if an heir could be produced, somehow. Perhaps an Araedian woman of another household...

She shook her head and reached for a paper and pen, upon which she penned in perfect, delicate letters that belied the serious matter of which she spoke.

```
Dive past the force and discover what is necessary. More of this lineage needs to be determined, and if possible, the arrangement of a more fitting heir is of the utmost importance. Notify immediately of any changes, and be prepared for new assignments.
```
She did not sign the letter and kept it brief for the safety of the informant, who as of this moment would be a hassle to replace. She then had her reply sent to be encoded and then eventually delivered to the informant, while his original letter was destroyed.