Abigail walked the halls accompanied by her one-handed bodyguard, Knyyt Dravane.
They found Fredder seated alone upon a cushioned bench as though he had been waiting for company.
He rose the moment they approached.
Knyyt Dravane immediately tensed.
Fredder noticed. "Relax, Dravane. Her Majesty's real enemies are more discrete, while yours are much much closer to home."
Dravane's jaw tightened.
"Do refrain from taunting my Knyyt, Lord Kaine." Came Abigail.
Fredder smiled. "Apologies, my Queen," he said politely. "May I escort you to my execution?"
"Trial," Abigail corrected while continuing forward beside him.
"Ah."
"You speak so lightly for one accused of murder," she said. "I assume this is the part where you attempt to appeal to me before evidence is presented."
"There in only so many false accusations one man can bear. Because we are both widowers, Your Majesty — I had hoped similar tragedy might make us kindred spirits."
"People may resemble each other in some ways," Abigail replied, "while remaining entirely different in others."
Fredder nodded. "Fair enough. Though if I were in your position, I would at least grant my prospective spouse the courtesy of warning before arranging their arrest." His eyes slid toward her.
"You speak as though your marriage proposal is still in consideration in spite of the allegations levied upon you."
"And you speak as though Elsem without late King Leonhart can sustain for long without Kaine resources and continental influence."
"I concede — I cannot outtalk you, Lord Kaine. So let's desist the circumlocutions. You mean to probe whether I was aware of your arrest beforehand? Just ask."
"Why ask a question I can figure the answer to? However if Your Majesty is actually offering me a direct answer to other questions I might have, then I am most grateful."
"You have a habit of getting ahead of yourself,don't you?"
Fredder chuckled — but didn't return a reply and they continued onwards toward the throne hall where his trial would take place. Knyyt Dravane loyally following the couple.
"In spirit of goodwill between us," Said Abigail, "You should know that I was informed only after you were arrested."
"And the Crown must never appear divided." Fredder added. Then he smiled. "I am glad truly. Knowing my bride-to-be did not connive against me after all."
"You get ahead of yourself again, Lord Kaine. Do not imagine for a moment I will be biased against any evidence to be presented against you."
"I have no intention of lobbying favours. In fact, Knyyt Dravane will be a much more interesting topic to discuss than this whole sordid affair."
"I have warned you against taunting my Knyyt."
"I mean it truthfully. I was disappointed when you claimed him before I had the chance to entice him to the Kaine Guard."
At that moment, Fredder recalled a fragment of memory. A memory with Caelis the Enchanter just days after Fredder's return to Elsem. Caelis, who was most familiar with Knyyt Dravane and the Rune Academy — explained that Dravane rightly earned the rank of Runemaster and the Academy had no reason stripping him of it just because he lost his hand. Caelis suspected it was a politically influenced decision to reduce his worth as a Knyyt — because losing an arm should only affect his swordsmanship not his Runecasting.
Fredder stopped across the hallway. Abigail in turn stopped. So did Knyyt Dravane.
Fredder turned to her. Gazed deep into her black pupils. "Never seen Dravane's illusions myself but an old friend once said you could never distinguish it from the real thing." His voice fell lower and slower — almost flirtatious. "Down to the minutest detail…" he reached up a hand to Abigail's cheek.
She stood steady. Until his hand touched her face. Her form unraveled like fog clearing — both her and Knyyt Dravane vanished right before Fredderich.
He was the only real person in that hallway. But Fredder simply smirked and repeated under his breath, "Down to the minutest detail."
Abigail's voice came from ahead, "Do not be late to your trial, Lord Kaine." She warned — but no one was there.
Restrained tension quietened the air in the Throne Hall
Guards lined the pillars.
Envoys from other Sects occupied the right gallery overlooking the chamber.
Only Kaine Sect filled the left gallery except for Satorii and Reuben.
At the center of the hall stood Lord Boren and Master Leef of Kaine Sect — both set to address Queen Abigail presiding on the Throne.
"You may begin." She announced.
Boren began. "Whyteleafe Sect under the Crown's authority accuses Fredderich Kaine for the murder of Rudeus Whyteleafe — and by extension, treason against the state."
Fredder himself sat in the left gallery between his son and his mother. He watched the proceeding — unbothered, while Master Leef represented him below.
"These accusations are mistaken at best," Master Leef objected. "To question Lord Kaine's honour is to question Kaine Sect itself. We may yet overlook this insult if such allegations are retracted forthwith."
"Boren speaks with the authority of the Crown, Master Leef." Said Abigail. "Do not forget that." She turned to Boren. "What evidence have you for such accusation?"
From the Kaine gallery, young Bard Kaine watched the proceeding with curiosity. Then he turned to Fredder, "Father, why does the Queen sit the throne instead of Boren? Leonhart's uncle should stand higher in line of succession, shouldn't he? Since men inherit before women." He paused. "And she isn't even Elsemer by blood."
"You notice small things." Fredder looked proud. "It isnt about succession but regency. Tell me, how did Leonhart Whyteleafe become King?"
Bard's eyes sparkled as he recalled events that occurred long before he was even born. "After the 3rd El's War — his father, Clegane Whyteleafe, succumbed to illness. Therefore he ceded the throne to Leonhart."
"Precisely." Fredder patted his head. "Even today, Clegane Whyteleafe still lives — albeit in unsound condition. Now for a quiz, my boy; how does this piece of history apply to the current state of events?"
"Hmm… let's see… the one to succeed Leonhart is his son, Eielhart Whyteleafe. He is barely my age so it makes sense for him to appoint a regent. None other than his own mother."
Fredder smiled proudly.
Bard further realised and added, "By Elsem law, a ruler may temporarily or even permanently delegate sovereignty to another. So whoever controls Queen Abigail controls the king himself."
"Good boy."
Beside them, Isla Kaine finally cut in, "Perhaps focus on surviving your own trial instead of poisoning the boy's mind with politics."
"You call it poisoning; I call it educating, mother." Fredder replied. "What good is a parent's accumulated knowledge and experience if he does not advantage his child with it?"
Isla sighed defeatedly. "Just pay attention to your own trial."
Murmurs spread across the opposite gallery.
Below, Boren had presented several gold marks. Kaine Gold. A whitish gold — distinct even from a distance.
"That is not all discovered within Lord Rudeus's chambers," Boren continued.
He produced a rolled parchment and handed it to Knyyt Dravane who passed it to Abigail.
As Abigail unrolled the note, Boren continued speaking. "It appears to be correspondence from one of Rudeus's northern contacts within the Kingdom of Solitube. Every learned person here knows of the Serpent Guild."
Boren turned and looked up towards the Kaine gallery; toward Fredder Kaine with a scowl. "The same Kaine gold presented before this court funded the pirate attack on Her Majesty's vessels along the Saltless."
The hall echoed with gasps in response to the accusation. Heads turned toward Fredder.
Fredder leaned back in his seat. An amused smile tucked his lips. "Now things are starting to get interesting." He muttered.