"Where is that damned cripple, Astrid?!" Alva cursed loudly, which in itself already said more than she would have liked. Since she had met the young voroir, she had been losing her composure with a frequency that suited neither her name nor her position.
"At the outpost, my lady," Astrid replied. "Wounded and sleeping, exactly as was stated in the report." she concluded. Punctuating with little delicacy just how idiotic the question was.
"Mock me one more time, servant, and I will make you swallow your tongue." Alva replied, before returning to the table and looking at the contract, clean handwriting and terms decided without her participation and presuming her obedience.
Her younger brother, Hakon, that well-born plague, had sent her a marriage contract to her chambers yesterday. Until not long before, the imbecile still hovered around her door with the humility of the younger ones, asking favors and asking for money, even asking that she speak to their father in his place because he lacked the courage to face the marquis without trembling, now he came to impose date, suitor and utility.
Alva wished to kill him, to see him stiff and cold, with the surprise still caught on his smooth face. She only did not wish it even more because she knew the idea had not been his, Hakon could be vain, ambitious even, but he lacked the spine for such an abrupt decision. There were the hands of the older brothers, of counselors and perhaps of their father himself.
"There will be more than enough time for the elevated one to wake. To worry too early is to invite error to take part in the decisions." Astrid said.
Alva did not answer and only laughed, a short sound without humor, her mind kept spinning. To bring down the marriage was possible, difficult but possible, there was always a way out for whoever thought early and dirty enough, the duel was one of them. That was if Hrafn was not lying in a mine outpost breathing with broken ribs and lost blood. Her brother now was also a voroir, it was no longer enough to be a man, young and favored, the Star had still touched him. Just as he was also a complete warrior, with all his members where they ought to be.
Alva took the letter again, read the line of the suitor's name as one tastes spoiled meat, the proposed union was also too good to be refused without political cost. Let her marry, said between the lines, let her bear children, let her settle, they said to give with elegance and perfume, everything she had been tearing away with teeth, calculation and hours of sleeplessness, and while she thought of all the calamities she could still inflict upon her own blood, someone knocked at the door.
Astrid went to answer. She spoke softly with whoever was on the other side, heard the message and closed the door with the same calm as always. She said nothing immediately and allowed with an almost affectionate malice, that Alva continue sharpening her own thoughts to the point where any sensible man would have begun to pray for Hakon's safety.
Instead of speaking, Astrid served tea and served also small walnut cakes, and only then did she speak. "The voroir has awakened, my lady."
Alva stopped and took a deep breath, adjusting the folds of her dress as if it were possible to remove the rage from herself merely by smoothing the fabric. She sat down, took the cup as she let the heat rise, picked up and ate a small piece of cake, then she looked out the window. "That is good, Astrid," she said. "We should arrange the duel as quickly as possible."
Astrid inclined her head, satisfied to hear the conclusion to which she had already arrived before.
"Before Hakon grows stronger, and before he understands his own miracle better, but…" Alva continued, setting down the cup, "I do not intend to bet all my chips on the duel."
"And what would you have in mind, my lady?"
Alva then extended her hand to the plate of walnut cakes, chose one of the smaller ones and brought it up to the height of her eyes. "Hakon adores them, does he not?" she said "Adores them to the point that the marquis had to restrict his diet when he was younger, I remember well. He ate like a small and spoiled pig."
Astrid shifted slightly on the bench. "My lady cannot be thinking..."
"To murder my younger brother?" Alva let a very white smile touch her mouth. "One elevated by the Star and my father's favorite son. With poison, in case my warrior loses…" she lowered the little cake. "Of course I would not do that, Astrid."
She then looked out the window again, before speaking with the cheerful calm of a lady commenting on someone else's scandal during afternoon tea. "You will."
"My lady—"
"He likes you, it is enough to be gentle and sweet.'' she said, her smile growing "Kill Hakon."
Astrid stared at her first with real horror and her face lost all color, there for an instant she truly seemed what she ought to be; an elevated maid, and a lesser relative remembered only when convenient. But the instant passed as the expression changed, the horror yielding ground to consideration and calculation.
And then, like the Star coming out from behind very dark clouds, a smile began to be born on her lips. "My lady is very cruel."
"Only when it suits me."
Astrid crossed her hands in her lap, thoughtful now in a way almost elegant. "If I fail, I die."
"Yes."
"If I am caught, I die worse."
"Probably."
"Let us say I succeed. Your brother dies and your house loses the heir, your other brothers throw themselves against one another to seize the opening, the marquis probably goes mad''. she continued.''Even so, my lady may still have to marry." she concluded.
"Perhaps," Alva conceded. "But not on their schedule, as they wish to break me, I will bleed this house before I go''
Astrid held her gaze for one more moment.
"And what do I gain?
"I elevate you."
"To elevate a servant is easy to promise."
"Not a servant. You." Alva leaned back in the chair. "I give you land and a new name, perhaps a minor marriage if you wish or independence if you are more ambitious than feminine..." She placed the palm of her hand on her lips, evaluating. "Baroness would suit you well."
Astrid smiled."It is true, my lady, it would suit me very well."
"Then we understand each other," Alva said.
"We are evaluating possibilities," Astrid corrected.
"Do not be tedious."
"Do not be hasty."
Alva let out a brief sound through her nose. "Arrange the duel, I want the formality ready before the end of the day."
"And Hrafn?"
Alva thought of the elevated plebeian and damned cripple who had torn a grain of light from her without even blinking. Of the boy who even so remained, to her displeasure, the best piece available on the board they had left her.
She raised her eyes to her cousin. "I need him to win, but I cannot bet." Alva picked up the small walnut cake again. "Go kill my brother, Astrid."
Astrid rose with her usual impeccable composure.
"With pleasure, my lady."