The Ocularum, whatever that word meant, was a revelation, a justification of all I had done to get to this point, but it was also a mistake. I had committed one of the gravest sins a servant to nobility could commit. I embarrassed my Mistress. Since then, even after a week, I had not served her once.
Even without my blunder, I was still in last place. Of the three girls, I had the least knowledge about dresses, fashion, court gossip, and innumerable other things that noble women liked talking about. It was painfully obvious at times, and I wasn't learning fast enough. Denice had long since returned to her duties, and the benefits of her blunder with me had expired. I racked my brain, finding nothing to solve the situation.
Stealing was another option, but getting into the Magus's quarters to where the books were held, was impossible. It was too close to the baron's wing; even if it wasn't locked, I couldn't get far.
‘Damn everything to the Stygian abyss, so close, yet so far.’
I had no friends or allies I could use within the keep. Perhaps it was a mistake to keep people at bay.
"Myr, your presence has been requested for the day," Denice said. I didn't even hear her enter our quarters.
"Really?" I asked her.
"Indeed, now to see to your duties." Denice turned on her heels and left.
‘What changed? I was sure I would be dismissed soon.’
~
I walked into Surian's bedroom, carrying linens as expected. Surian was by her dresser, admiring herself in the mirror.
"I was going to dismiss you today, you know," Surian said as I made her bed.
"Thank you for your mercy, Baroness."
"Hardly mine. One visit to some commoner eatery and suddenly, father caught wind of my intentions and bade me to give you a second chance. Are you not grateful?"
‘Darion and Beth again assist me. Someday, I will repay that generosity.’
"Immensely, Baroness. I deserved no such generosity."
"You do not, so don't get comfortable, you will be dismissed in the coming week, prepare yourself."
I bit back my anger, knowing that it would solve nothing.
"By your will, Baroness."
I dressed her, did her hair, brought her food, and then cleaned her room the same as always. I was mildly amused that both Eleanor, Gemma and I ignored the closed jewelry box from her father. There were a dozen complex rings, necklaces, bracelets, and an expensive diadem. Why bother cleaning them if she never put them on? It was ridiculous that a literal fortune sat on her dresser, untouched for months.
The day went as normal, with a math tutor, a literary tutor, and then poetry. Then, another tea party with more ditsy, moronic noblewomen. After thinking the day would end and I would be rid of the stupidity, plans were changed.
"I will study with my father for a few hours; remain outside," Surian commanded.
Her father's study had a massive double door with a pair of intimidating guards standing at attention.
~
I stood across the hall from the two guards for over an hour. Their helmeted heads didn't move, though their eyes tracked servants and other nobles who passed. Voices raised inside the study, sounding like an argument. The guards didn't so much as flinch.
The door opened, a guard stepped forth, had a short conversation, then turned to me, "Your presence is requested."
‘They probably want a snack or something.’
The first thing I noticed was the walls stacked high with books. A single massive desk dominated the room, and behind it was a massive glass window.
The baron, dressed in his house colors, watched me as I crossed the large room.
I stood behind Surian and bowed, unsure why I was summoned.
"Thank you for joining, Myr," The baron said.
I bowed deeply, "It is an honor, Lord Baron."
"You see, my daughter and I are having a bit of a disagreement. And perhaps someone of your nature could settle this debate." My eyes flicked back between father and daughter, cursing my luck.
"Again, I must protest; a peasant has no such mind for these matters," Surian said.
"Regardless, I desire her opinion. Tell me, my dear, what value do commoners find most important in a leader?" He asked.
‘Again, why me? Ideally, I should choose an answer that they both approve of. But clearly they have opposite opinions. I don't know either of them well enough to guess what those were.’
"Give me your honest answer, not the one you think we want to hear." His voice had the edge of a warning.
‘Damn! Alright then. Truth it is.’
I thought back deeply on how I grew up, the towns I had seen, and the people I had met.
"With all due respect, Lord Baron, Lady Baroness. We commoners actually don't care about you or your values."
The room was so silent that a feather could fall and be heard in the farthest corner. Even Surian had to turn in her chair to look me in the eye.
The baron leaned back in his chair and smiled.
"Explain yourself." The baron said.
I sighed, "I speak not for wealthy merchants and businessmen whose wealth and status can change quickly according to your will. I speak for the peasants in the many villages and towns dotting the Redstone barony. There are two things commoners care about: the price of bread and how much the taxman demands. So long as bread only costs a few bits and the taxman doesn't demand too much. The leadership's values, political ideals, aspirations, or religious beliefs matter little. You would be hard pressed to find a peasant beyond Gentry who knows your given name, Lord Baron, much less the emperor's."
"Surely they have criticisms, even I have heard a few," Surian said.
"Indeed, tell us. Again, honesty," The baron commanded.
"They say the Lord Baron is too generous with the merchants. I've heard the complaint all across the barony." I said.
"Is this not something to be corrected?" Surian asked me.
I shrugged, "What does it mean to be ' too generous with the merchants’? We don't understand the complexities of tariffs, trade disputes, and taxation. We complain to complain. Eliminate this supposed flaw in the Baron, and another takes its place. One you perhaps can't control."
Surian was growing displeased with my answers while the Baron looked contemplative. "So, he should simply sit by and tolerate their words,” she asked.
I shook my head, "It's more important to focus on what they don't say about him than what they do say."
The baron smiled, "Go on."
"Weak, greedy, corrupt, evil, sinful, lecherous. For all the number of times I have heard the complaint, ' too generous with the merchants, ' I've never heard those even from the most disenfranchised. I figure if that's all that an entire barony has to complain about, the leader is rather competent. So, in the end, the only thing that matters is competency." I shrugged. It was the truth as I knew it. By every metric, Baron Elodin Redstone was effective.
The Baron laughed, "Well, isn't that an interesting perspective. Daughter?"
"She didn't technically agree with you," Surian countered.
He wasn't deterred. "But interesting nonetheless, this leads into another key fact of leadership you should understand."
"That is?"
"The importance of diverse perspectives. Acquiring your information from only a few sources leads to poor decision-making. Seeing all perspectives, both from the heights of educated aristocrats and the valleys of the lowest peasant, is the key to proper leadership."
"And what value could a peasant like her offer?"
The baron sighed as if Surian was missing something obvious.
"Myr, where were you born?"
"Farway, Lord Baron."
"A remote village near Helios, I believe. What is your point?" Surian asked.
"She made her way from Farway to the capital, into the castle, and now she stands but a few feet from the Baron himself. Surely she has seen things, heard things that you, with wealth, privilege, and position, would not know of. Yet you do not use the resource available to you. Why?"
Surian paused, considering his words.
The Baron answered for her, "It's because she is just a peasant, decently trained, but a peasant nonetheless. No significant backing or established family ties within the city to take advantage of. Of course, you would overlook her. But to be an effective leader, you must use everything to your advantage."
Surian smirked, "Well, shall we ask her what to do about Farketh? Surely she would have an interesting opinion."
‘She is challenging him. This isn't really about me at all. There is some kind of battle of perspectives going on here. And I'm just a piece on the board.’
The Baron smiled, "Very well." He returned his gaze to me, "We've had a shortage of iron in the last year, our mines have run dry, and importing it from Harlock is much too expensive, so we turned to Helios. Farketh is rich with iron, but unwilling to negotiate reasonably; their conditions for trade, most would say, are unreasonable. But soon enough, the shortage will start affecting the economy. We have even had shipments from Helios go missing, no doubt from sabotage. Do we pay that price, or do we continue skirmishing on our borders, possibly causing a war?"
My eyes flicked back and forth between them. I didn't really understand war and trade disputes. But I did understand threatening someone with a weakness, so they give you what you want. Clark tried that with me, and if I didn't end him, he would have had me every night. Hells, I could have fallen pregnant and that would have caused even more complications, better to destroy the possibility. Put out once, and they will only want more.
"Neither, I suppose," I mumbled.
"Oh, do tell us, Myr, with all your military and political experience, what would you do?" Surian mocked.
‘Might as well give them the truth. At this point, her opinion of me couldn't drop any lower.’
"I think it's best to just destroy Farketh completely."
The Baron laughed even harder than before, banging his fist on the desk.
"Now that is an interesting answer. Much better than my soft-touched advisors."
"The political implications of total war with Farketh are...I can’t even list the cascade of consequences. And you say this is worthwhile advice." Surian said.
"Why complete destruction?" the baron asked.
I held his eyes for the first time, the entire conversation, "They're trying to use a weakness to take something precious from you, a most vile action. Capitulate once, and you will give in again and again and again, each time selling yourself cheaper. They'll never be satisfied. In the end, they will take everything and leave nothing."
To my immense pleasure, that actually shut her up. Surian eased into her chair, contemplating my words. Even the baron seemed to be deep in thought.
‘That's my in, isn't it? Surian might not care for me. But in the end, the baron is still the baron. But that begs the question: why did she have a choice in the first place?’
"You speak as if from personal experience," Surian observed.
I had no interest in discussing my past. "I've seen things, people at their lowest."
The Baron's eyes squinted, then commanded, "Tell us. No, tell my dear daughter. Of what it's like beyond the safety and comfort of these walls."
"I'm well aware of the suffering that occurs amongst the least fortunate, Father," Surian said.
He sniffed, "History books are toned down for a noble's delicate sensibilities. How many first-hand accounts have you had? Proceed, Myr, do not spare any detail."
~
I provided them with a brief explanation of my experience with the caravan. The whoring, fighting, stealing, dying children, and fights to the death for food, and the almost animal-like behavior from some of the peasants. Quite the horrid tale for nobles used to the world being toned down for their convenience.
"Yet all they complain about is that my father is too generous with the Merchants? “Surian said.
"It's life. That is just how the world works. Some have, some don't. We blame and hate each other, blind to those above us."
He gave me a soft smile, "Thank you for your time. Go about your duties, Myr."
I curtseyed deeply and left the room.
~
Days passed, and my time with Surian was minimal. While she still preferred Gemma or Eleanor, I, at the very least, couldn't be completely ignored. The Baron's influence over his daughter couldn't be underestimated. But I wasn't willing to leave anything up to chance.
Day after day, I racked my brain, trying to formulate a plan that could guarantee my success. What I realized, in my brief time in this world, was: being as close to the thing that you want gives you the highest chance of having it. Everything else is opportunity, luck, and risk. No matter how hard I worked, how perfect I tried to be, none of it was working. My dismissal was only delayed.
Still, I needed something to guarantee my chances. Something to eliminate one or both of the other girls. There was some odd power play going on between Surian and her father. I didn't understand it, but for whatever reason, the choice of her handmaiden was important. Going around asking was a quick method of getting dismissed.
I hopped out of bed, stretched, and decided to head to my spot. Gemma entered the room the same moment I left, and I barely gave her a second glance.
It was an Eight-day, and many of the servants were off in the lower city or taking the day to worship in the temples. My mind picked up someone following me. A woman, soft steps, Gemma.
Rolling my eyes, I continued to my spot, preparing for her stupidity. The winter air was hard on the lungs, and if not for the constant application of oil on my lips, they would be as cracked as dried clay. The snows hadn't come yet, but they would soon. The lake was starting to show patches of ice. In a few weeks, it would freeze over.
Gemma came sauntering over with a particularly cruel smile on her face. I stepped away from the crenellations and stared at Gemma coming towards me.
"What is it, Gemma?"
Her smile widened, "Oh, nothing. I was just coming to offer condolences. I heard you're being dismissed in the next Eight-day."
‘It's going to slip away.’
"How kind of you," I said sarcastically. She took my spot on the crenellations, leaning against the lowered sections meant for shooting down at enemies, glowering at me.
‘It’s only waist height.’
"I'm not going to lie, Myr, you lasted longer than I thought, "Gemma said, mockingly.
"So, you followed me here to gloat. Did Eleanor put you up to this?"
Gemma huffed in offense, "I'm my own person, I don't need that witch's permission to do anything."
‘It's not impossible, Myr.’
I laughed, "I bet half the staff noticed you following me here. I wonder what they are whispering about right now. Maybe I'll give myself a black eye. Get you tossed out."
Gemma rolled her eyes, completely oblivious to the danger approaching.
"Do you think I'm an idiot? You won't repeat what you did with Denice with me, smart of you to let her blunder with witnesses. No one knows I'm here, so it's your word against mine, and I'm not the one with half their foot out the door."
‘It's like she's begging for it.’
My heart started racing. The rush of blood thundered in my ears, turning my vision red.
‘She wants to take it from you.’
‘Look how close she sits to the edge.’
‘One solid shove is all it would take.’
Anier's teaching surfaced in my mind. Those who commit murder are condemned to the Stygian Abyss to suffer for all eternity. So far, everything I had done was forgivable from most perspectives. But to take a life not in defense of myself or another was murder. There was no justification I could use like Clark. There had to be another solution; Some other way to get what I want.
I held my head down, looking at the grey stone. At some point, Gemma started spewing insults. I kept my head lowered, making her think the blows were landing, but she was far away. My heart was racing. I saw red. My hands started twitching.
‘Why are you hesitating, Myr? Weren't you the one who started this story? What? You fear getting caught, don't make me laugh. You said it yourself laws of both men and gods were little more than illusions to keep the sheep in line. You're still in the cage, claws retracted, fangs hidden away. When are you going to break free? You think magic is going to free you? FOOL, you must claw at the cage every day, every hour, every second until it breaks.’
‘Stop hesitating...’
‘Push her...
‘End her...’
‘Murder her...’
‘Take what's yours...’
My heartbeat was so loud I couldn't even hear Gemma anymore. The fire was all-consuming; it was like I wasn't even making a choice. Letting my rage guide me, my stance changed as I prepared to rush her. Something at the far corner of my mind stopped me. I was about to ignore it until it pulled on me a bit harder.
A memory popped into my mind. I went back to the incident five years ago when I threw the spoon at Aalis. Bren walked in, looked at his crying daughter, and saw the small cut on her head. He dragged a nine-year-old girl to the backyard, ripped her shirt off, and lashed her over a dozen times so hard the welts bled. It wasn't the pain or fear I felt that day that called back to me; it was the look in Bren's eyes, his anger, so all-consuming that in that moment, I feared he would kill me; it was Mother who had to step in and stop the lashings. Bren himself bought numbing cream, even he realized that he had gone too far. After that, only mother did the lashing.
Whatever resentment or anger that dwelt within his heart controlled him. At this moment, my anger was controlling me. It wasn't my choice, like a coward, like Bren, I had let it lead me. I thought the rage was a strength, my shield; it was just another weakness. Like Bren, I was letting it control me. I wasn't freeing myself; it was another cage. In that moment, I reached a catharsis.
There was no cage, but the ones we created for ourselves.
We could leave it any time we wished, so long as we were willing to sacrifice.
I took a deep breath and muttered, "Quiet,"
I fought against the fire as it tried to consume me.
‘I am the master here; nothing controls me, nothing cages me.
’
Slowly, its strength began to wane. My heart rate slowed, and the thundering in my ears ceased. The inner voice pushing me to kill Gemma, to secure my spot, disappeared. The flame flickered, sputtered, then died.
My mind was my own again.
But that didn't mean Gemma was safe. I looked up at Gemma, completely oblivious to the turmoil I had just gone through. Her mouth moved, but her words were far away.
‘If I killed her, what would the reaction be? First, a search, then suspicion. The lake below was slowly freezing over; her body wouldn't be discovered for months, if ever. But that wasn't good enough; if they believed she was murdered, then suspicion would fall on me. But what if she wasn't murdered? What if she ran away? If Gemma and Valuables disappeared in the same timeframe. What was the assumption? She stole it and slipped away somehow. And I knew just the collection of jewelry to frame her with. Nanette wasn't powerful or all that wealthy, hell, what I planned on using could probably buy her inn ten times over. Even better was that her brothers were so disliked; why would the daughter turn out any different? My performance would have to be perfect, and all that would be left was Eleanor.’
‘I could turn back to Darion and Beth, live a good life even now, if I did nothing and was dismissed as I knew I would be. They would take me in, and I would have a good life.’
‘Magic requires sacrifice. If I had to sacrifice my own soul, so be it.’
I took a glance to the left and the right; no guards anywhere. I listened, hearing nothing on the wind, no voices, no footsteps, no witnesses. I stared at Gemma's eyes. She was rather pretty. My heart didn't race; there was no screaming in my mind.
This was my choice.
I rushed forward, clamping a hand over her mouth, pushing her against the edge. It took her a moment to realize what was about to happen, a moment too late. I was taller, stronger, and had the element of surprise. The sheer terror in her eyes as she realized what was about to happen, I knew, would remain with me forever.
I shoved her so hard she flew backward, tumbling over the lowered section of the crenellations. There was a terrified scream that lasted a second before a sharp crack cut it off. I watched her body fall, careening off the sheer cliffs like a rag doll before crashing into the lake below. From several hundred feet up, she was barely a speck. Eventually, her motionless body disappeared beneath the water.
I turned around and walked back to our quarters, wandering through the halls inside the walls to the exit.
Doubt, fear, anger, regret, they were all swirling at the edge of my mind. I refused to buckle; the next few days would be crucial. Someone soon would notice she had disappeared. My performance had to be perfect. One flaw, one misstep, and it all could come crashing down on me. Hell, they might dismiss Eleanor and me just on the principle that there was a possibility of foul play. But what's done is done. My path is now set, and I am free.