The Vampire & Her Witch

Ashlynn watched Ignatious leading the High Priest away with a faint smile on her lips before she turned back to the head chamberlain. Given enough clues, she was certain that Aubin would figure things out on his own, but for now, she trusted Ignatious to guide the old priest gently toward the truths that had shocked every person of faith he’d shared them with so far.

At the moment, however, she had other matters to worry about.

Thus far, Owain was handling matters with more restraint than she’d expected of him. For the moment, that was fine. She still had a few pieces of her own to place on the board before she entered the last stage of this game, and Owain’s willingness to tolerate everything she’d already done in order to attempt to salvage his reputation and his appearance as a fit ruler was playing into her hand.

Still, she needed to increase the pressure he felt, and she needed to eliminate as many of his avenues of escape as possible so that when the time came and he finally exploded, the explosion produced the results she wanted. Taking a seat next to him during the proceedings would already move him from a low simmer to a rolling boil, but if she stacked the court even further against him....

”There aren’t enough chairs at the High Table for any of the Baronesses to take their seats,” she told the head chamberlain. ”I have just as much right to speak in these proceedings as my husband does,” she insisted, even though that hadn’t been true for multiple generations of Lothian Marchioness. ”And the Baronesses have just as much say as their husbands do.”

”Your Grace, this isn’t, um, perhaps in Blackwell that might be, ummm...” the chamberlain stammered, looking to Owain for support, only to find the young lord conferring quietly with Sir Gilander and Sir Garrik.

”You heard what my husband told me,” Ashlynn reminded the flustered servant. ”He said to do as I wished. This is what I wish to see and how things will be. Ladies,” she said, turning to the startled baronesses of the court.

”I know it may be a heavy burden to bear,” Ashlynn said. ”Sitting in judgment is never easy, but I promise that whatever you and the lords of the court decide, I will not ask you to swing the sword. For now, join us and speak your mind freely. Your experience and your insights are far too valuable to leave your voices unheard tonight,” she said, gesturing toward the High Table where a few servants had already started pulling out extra seats.

”It’s about time,” Loghlan Dunn said loudly, standing up from his seat and offering an arm to Lady Mairwen. ”My Lady,” he added, making a show of bowing to her. ”The Court is in need of your wisdom. May I escort you to your seat?”

”Careful, My Lord,” Mairwen said brightly as she took his arm. ”Once I have a seat at the table, I might never give it up,” she said, glancing meaningfully at the other baronesses in the room.

”Mother,” Erling Fayle said, standing and offering his arm to Lady Ragna. ”Will you join me?”

”I’m no longer a baroness, son,” she reminded him carefully. ”I know you have your reasons for standing with Lady Ashlynn,” she said quietly. ”And even if you didn’t, I would have chosen the same. But I don’t know if it’s wise to push her generosity...”

”We’re not pushing anything,” Erling said quietly as he helped his mother up. ”We’re making certain she has a quiver full of arrows. She just doubled the votes on both sides of the table by inviting the baronesses up, but unless more of them stand with her than their husbands did, she just made her position worse because I’m not married yet, and neither is Lord Hugo.”

Erling didn’t know Lady Ashlynn, but from what he’d seen so far, he doubted she’d miscalculated. She likely felt like she would have more success swaying the ladies of the court whose husbands had chosen to remain neutral than she’d had with their husbands, but Erling wasn’t so certain.

Too many of the court’s ladies allowed themselves to be cowed by their husbands, particularly women like Baroness LeGleau, who had all but abandoned life in the political arena in order to raise her large gaggle of children. There were very few women like his mother who were willing to stand and fight for what they believed in or to defend their families without the support of their husbands.

If the support that Lady Ashlynn was looking for from the ladies of the court never manifested, then having even one extra voice of support on her side of the table could become the voice that broke a tie, or, given his mother’s strident personality, the one who swayed her peers to do the right thing even over their husband’s protests.

”You need me to help rebalance the scales,” Lady Ragna said, nodding in understanding as she watched her son’s eyes scanning the room and carefully assessing the baronesses making their way toward the High Table. ”Then I suppose you’re right, she’ll have no reason to object.”

Among those aligned with Ashlynn, the invitation to include the baronesses was a welcome shift from business as usual, and even among those opposed to her, women like Baroness Melsinde Otker seemed excited to join the proceedings, despite the visible discomfort it brought her husband.

Others were doing their own calculations, just as Erling Fayle had done, and they responded in kind.

”Tosha,” Baron Preden Saliou said, turning to his daughter-in-law and the widow of his late son. ”Why don’t you come sit with me? Sir Kourne can watch over the young ones while we tend to this bit of unfortunate business,” he offered.

”If, if you’re certain that I’d be welcome,” Tosha said awkwardly as she glanced at the table where Lady Jocelynn was sitting and then at Ashlynn Blackwell. When she went through the motions to make a brief appearance at Lady Ashlynn’s memorial, she’d done so because Baroness Peigi told her it would be important to support the future Marchioness.

At the same time, she’d allowed High Priest Aubin to chase her away because she really didn’t want to swim in the dangerous waters of the Lothian Court, not when her son was still too young to take up the burdens of his late father’s throne. She’d thought that the best thing she could do was to balance the scales evenly or withdraw whenever possible so that no one had any reason to turn against her family.

Now, however, it felt like she was being forced to play a far more dangerous game than any debate among the ladies of the court about hosting summer galas or choosing charities to favor, and she was worried about what would happen if she got it wrong.

”There will be too many voices clamoring with so many women on the court,” Praden said dismissively. ”If you choose to remain quiet until the time comes to cast your vote, you may prove to be the wisest of them all. But Lord Owain will be counting on us, and we shouldn’t disappoint him,” he said, glancing at the young lord on the dais.

”It wouldn’t bode well for us if we did,” the old baron sighed.