Agents Of Time: Chapter 12; Breaking and entering

The newspaper, ink hardly dry, wrinkled and partly torn, sat dejected in the corner of the King and Queen's sitting room. With the maids dressing the queen and the king already out and about on business off the estate, he had a few moments to herself.

With a look over her shoulder, confirming that everyone was busy out of the room, she picked the paper up.

Let's see what you said to deserve such treatment.

Smoothing it out on the floor, careful to not further damage the rip, she made out the headline.

GRAND DUKE MAVROS NAMED IN ROYAL FAMILY TREE

The family tree? Of course, there would be a recorded tree. Why hadn’t they thought to check that before?

She skimmed the rest of the summary below the headline. Since last night's debacle, it seemed that someone, It didn’t name who, had made a statement has been made that a tree bearing the royal sigil had surfaced with the duke's name on it.

The use of the word surfaced implied that either the tree was missing, or the possibly that there was more than one. More importantly, there may be a fraud.

Verena tucked the paper back into its dejected corner, keeping the cover page, folding it, and slipping it into her garter. They had to get a look at that family tree. In the meantime, she needed to find more information on the relations between the duke and the queen, and possibly their son.

Of course, this could come about in one of two ways. Either she could leverage the gossip and information party that was the other three ladies-in-waiting, but that could be less than trustworthy, with the way rumours circulated, and word of mouth altered statements based on bias. The second way, and considerably more fun, would be another visit to the archives. An unauthorised visit. May not hurt to check up on a certain guardians office either.

First things first, though, how to get herself excused from the queen's eye. Verena turned, heading back out of the sitting room and into the queen's chambers. The other ladies-in-waiting was gathered in a room, sitting just outside the hall. A small study.

The women paused their talking as she entered, only to realize that she was one of them, and they continued in quiet tones.

Rodina practically floated over to her, tapping the fan that continued to be nearly glued to her hand on her blushed cheek. “A terrible mess, isn’t it?”

Verena placed a well-educated guess. “The headline? Yes, goodness. Such a debacle to be had in my first week here!”

“Yes, I suppose you're coming into this rather blind, aren’t you? Theres quite a history to be had.”

“Really?” Verena leaned in closer.

“Well,” Rodina started off her tale. “You see, I’m the first lady-in-waiting. So, I arrived a few months before her coronation. Goodness that seems like forever ago.”

“You must have had quite a hand in helping her prepare then.”

“Not well enough it seems, although I suppose e I can fault any girl for falling for those sweet words and that swath of blond hair. “

Verena feigned confusion.” Blond? I thought that his majest-”

“Oh, no. I’m talking about the duke.”

“The duke-you don’t mean.” Verena gasped quietly.

Rodina nodded as if Verena had just solved Pythagorean Theorem. “Oh, indeed I do. The coronation had to be delayed and postponed until she gave birth. Of course, it was after then revealed that the duke only sought power. Being the youngest of two sons in the dutchy he had little chance of that.”

Verena pushed aside the new thoughts that came with that information. Intend on getting a more important name out of the countess. “So.” She lowered her voice.” “So, Benedict, his hair is blond, does that mean-”

“Nobody knows for sure, but yes, we suspect it is.”
“You don’t know?”

“As soon as the first was born, they hid him off with a wet nurse, her majesty was married, coronated, and they were on their way to having another. With the queen's blond hair, the king's brown, and the duke's blonde, it was hard to really tell who fathered whom. Both sons share a birthyear, one born in January, one in December. So they simply merged the two and celebrated it on New Year's Day.”

“So you don’t know who's older?” Verena didn’t get an answer as a commotion drew their attention to the doorway. The queen's maids hurried by, carting trays and yesterdays ballgown. She was running out of time. Verena looked at the countess, who seemed to read her rapt attention, regardless of its intention. Rodina flicked her fan open, using it as a shield to whisper to her. “They haven’t named an heir, if that’s what you're getting at. Not publicly, at least.”

Verena nodded, thinking the information over. It was something. Maybe it wasn’t correct, but it was revealing at the very least. Now she just had to dig up some records. Some very deeply protected records, by the sound of it. An affair that was hidden in plain daylight. As if everyone who knew simply pretended it had never happened.

But why not make the heir public knowledge? Would t not satisfy the common people to know who to look to their future king?

The queen composed and put together, announced they’d be having a luncheon the gardens, then in the afternoon she had business to attend to with the king.

Likely about the family tree, I bet. Which means they may be with Julian in the archives. If I could get James to create a diversion, I should have a chance to look at the family tree.

The real question was what sort of diversion would require both their majesties' attention and Julians.

Verena pondered this, keeping half an ear on the luncheon conversation. Although it came across as more of a council meeting than a casual luncheon.

“Has Miss Lausthly put in the order for the summer uniforms?” Cordelia inquired of the countess. A notepad sat in front of her. Filled with an elegantly scrawled list. One Verena could read upside down from her position at the far end of the round table.

“Yes, I talked to her last week.”

The queen nodded and crossed it off her list. Her fountain pen scratched the paper like a dull knife.

“Now we do have a few things to go over regarding the spring festival in a few months, I was thinking of putting you at the head of that Fiona, and Lavina, I was thinking you could pair up with her, learn how we do somethings around here. I’m sure you can lend some of your own abilities from what duties you had back home as well. However, I’d like to dive into a more pressing matter now.” The queen paused, staring at her notepad, before pressing both hands into her lap and looking around the table.

“I’m sure you all saw this morning's paper, and you were al there last night as well. Most of you know that story, so I won't repeat it. Of course, you’ve been rather thrown into this situation in your first week.” The queen gave Verena an apologetic look before finally lifting her hands from her lap as if she had to physically lift her next sentence from her body. “His Majesty and I have decided we will be holding a coronation gala, to announce the heir to the throne. Now that Benedict and Darko are both here, and with recent situations arising, we feel it is only fitting we do what we have put off for so long.”

Well, that certainly will be convenient. Verena leaned forward. “Is there anything I can do to help? “

“Yes, actually, I’ve assigned you all some duties. We’re going to have to work fast if we want to pull this off by the date that we have set.”

“What’s the date?” Fiona said. “Surely it can’t be much more difficult than the gala.”

“Next Friday.”

A collective. “Oh.” went around the table. Followed by an anxious silence that Countess Rodina broke. “If I may, I just want to make sure I understand what you're asking of us. You want us to plan a royal coronation gala by the coming Friday?”

“Yes.” Her majesty said firmly.” I will supply whatever you need. His Majesty and I have already started preparations. I have compiled a guest list I will pass on to....” She looked down at her list. “Lavinia? I thought doing the guest list would help acquaint you with some of the local noble houses.”

Like I have a clue about the formalities of sending invitations. “Yes, I would be honoured.” Verena said.

The queen nodded in satisfaction. “Good. I will leave you all to finish the luncheon and discuss this among yourselves. I must-” The queen was cut short by the loud crunch of gravel that echoed through the main gates. The screech of brakes and the scream of metal.

Followed by shouting, distinctly male voiced, shouting.
“What on earth?” Rodina stood, fan fluttering fast as if her fury at their lunch being so rudely intruded was channeled straight into it.

The commotion, or rather the men involved with it soon spilled into the courtyard. The King himself, marching towards the front doors, the duke hot on his heels. The sight of which prompted a surprised sound from the queen, who not so subtly attempted to keep herself out of the line of sight behind the other women. Following the two men were several other men, all well-dressed, noble in some sort.

“The council?” Fiona whispered.

The council floundered like a group of penguins, hesitant to engage with the despite, yet following as if they had to be near it. Once they cleared the entry, Verena's eyes narrowed on a final pair of men, one of them the familiar silhouette of

“Good afternoon, ladies. What’s going on?” Julian came up behind them, having marched over from his library to see the commotion.

“I’m not sure.”
“Ah, I think I do know. If you’ll excuse me, ladies, Your Majesty,” Julian started off a trot towards the two, flagging them with their own separate greetings in an attempt to turn their respective attentions to himself instead of each other.

James still lingered at the entryway into the courtyard, watching the gathering from the shade.

The queen kept her eyes glued to the trio of men as they approached the trio, Julian stopped the duke a few feet from it, the king breaking away to step towards the ladies.

“Ah, yes, the meeting.” The Queen inhaled, talking to herself more than she was informing her ladies-in-waiting.

“Cordelia?” The king’s expression had softened as he held his hand out to help the queen up from her seat. She blinked up at him before giving him a nervous smile and accepting the hand.

“Ladies.” The king gave thema polite smile as he led the queen away, following Julian who had manage to rope the duke into a discussion that distracted him for the moment. All the while the council trailed along behind.

“Well,” Rodina wasted no time in rounding the table to look at the list the queen left behind. “I’m going to see what I can do with this.” She folded the list crispy, tearing off each woman’s assigned section and handing it to them, thus excusing herself. “Good day.”

Syliva and Fion similarly excused themselves, clearing James to find his way to Verena.

“What was that about?” He said.

“The throne, I’m guessing. Let's go find out.” Verena looked at the backs of the group heading towards the library. “I think they’ll be discussing some very useful information.”

“Yeah… uhm. On that topic.” James hesitated; Verena turned her head towards him. He held out a slip of brown paper towards her.

“Is this?” Verena snatched it and pried it open.

“Another one? Yes. I found it in my coat pocket.” James raised his hands as Verena shot him a look. “No, it wasn’t placed when it was on me. Must have been slipped in when I put my jacket down for a few minutes. “

“Which was?” Verena glanced at the note. James answer glazed over her numbed ears, as she read the ink-scrawled letters.

They’re not who you think the are. Abort mission.

“James.” That stopped his mumbling on about whatever. “Read this and follow me.” She turned and started marching towards the library, staying on the grass so the crunch of gravel wouldn’t give away her approach. The crowd had all disappeared into the building. A billion and one thoughts raced through her head as she debated with herself.

I need to compare that handwriting. I need to get into his office. I need to hear those conversations. I need to be in the room where it’s happening. I need to-

“Lady Parker,” James hissed out a whisper as he caught up. Trotting alongside her fast-paced gait. “What are we doing?”

“Eavesdropping so we can figure out who to get rid of and get out of here.”

“What about the note?”

“Did you get a better read on that handwriting comparison to Julian's?”

“Not since that night I left the book with you, remember?”

“If I put you on the spot, could you make a valid accusation?”

James considered this. “I think, yes, I could. At the very least, we could pull enough of a bluff to see if he’s lying or not.”

“Good.” Verena slowed as she neared the doors. She didn’t remember seeing another way in. They’d have to try it. “James. Open the doors.”

He nodded, pulling one of the handles slowly until it opened just enough for him to step through, while giving Verena a clear line of sight into the library.

Good, they’re back by the office. They don’t have a clear line of sight to the door either.

She slipped past James, ducking behind a bookshelf as Julian called out. “Excuse me, you’ll have to come back later. The library is closed for a private meeting.”

“Apologies, thank you,” James answered. Forcing a different accent as he slipped in beside Verena before the door shut. They both stayed silent for a few minutes, listening for footsteps of anyone coming to confirm that any visitors had indeed left the library.

Tense voices started to carry, brought over by the echoing acoustics of the circular building. Too echoey to understand quite what was being said. They needed to get closer.

Verna peered between the spaces between the books on the shelves. They seem to be gathered around Julian's office. She ducked back down and spoke to James. “You go left. I’ll go right. We can see who gets closest. Just keep out of sight of the men. We just need to hear what they are saying.”

She bent and slipped off her heels, holding them by the arches to prevent dropping them. With only her soft stockings, she was able to sneak over the polished wooden floor easily. She made her way around the library, slipping between bookshelves, catching slivers of James doing the same across from her.

Nearing the office and entry to the archives, the voices became clearer, Verena crouched down, finding a clear line of sight through the slots above the books.

The French doors to Julian's office were set open, the councilmen lounging outside, leaning on bookshelves or gathering in little groups as they watched the scene inside. A scene they inconveniently blocked.

She could piece together a vague idea in her head of what the scene may compose of. Julian, the duke, and the monarchs, likely all stood around the librarian's desk where the family tree lay. Verena looked upward.

Would it be possible to gain a better vantage point?

She caught James' eye, gesturing for him to stay down and watch. Slowly rising to a stand, she pulled the back of her dress between her legs and gathered the hem into two bunches, which she wrapped and tied around her waist, making a makeshift jumpsuit. She stripped off her stockings and left them on the floor by her shoes, the silk a culprit for slivers and slipping on old wood.

She grasped one of the shelves and gave it a little wiggle. It creaked but didn’t move. Heavy enough that it wouldn’t tip and well-built enough it shouldn’t crack under her immediate weight. If anything, the book would be heavier than her at this point.

Verena traced her path up to the first balcony that spanned the room, just up to the top of the shelve and then she could grab the banisters and slip over them.

Verena moved as swiftly as she could without causing the bookshelf to creak. Up on shelves she went, keeping her body as close and as flat against the shelf to keep the gravitational pull as central as possible.

She kept the side of her head pressed to the shelf, feeling upwards one with one hand at a time. Dust sparkled in the air, lit by sunbeams, swirling around her like magic.

Her fingertips met a flat, wide shelf, dust softening her grip.

The top?

She inched her fingers farther inward, slowly adjusting her toes clinging to the edges of the shelves below, until she could raise one foot up high and reach both arms over the suspected top shelf.

Encountering no books and confident that she could hoist herself up the rest of the way, she anchored her forearms and then hands on the top shelf and boosted herself up until she was straddling the shelf.

Easy enough.

From up here the library lay far more open, allowing her to see down through the officed doors. But putting her equally in sight of anyone who happened to look over and up. Verena pulled her legs up, scooting herself closer to the balcony, now within reaching distance.

Moving slowly to avoid detection, she grasped the banisters and stepped up, then in one fell movement, swung over them, dropping and rolling so she lay against the wall, waiting for any sounds that meant she’ been detected.

Hearing nothing she rolled over and arm crawls to the bannisters again. James gave her a small wave. She tilted her head toward the office.

Get closer.

He nodded and moved out of sight. Verena pushed herself up to crawl, making her way until she was overtopping the office itself. She couldn’t see the family tree, but she had a pretty good grasp of the conversations happening now.

“But-look.” The archduke’s confident tone carried up from the office.” It has the royal seal. You can't argue with that.”

“As does this one.” King Aldrich replied.

“So, it means either is legible?” The Queen chipped in quietly.

She heard Julian's frustrated sigh.” I will reappraise them again, as last time I checked, there is only one real family tree-”

“Yes, and obviously I have the real one. Because you created a fals-” A slam follows Mavors statement.

“Which you still won't tell us where you found.” Aldrick sneered.

“Does it matter? I am on it, as I should be. We all know Darko is my son-” The duke's words were stopped by a firm. “Damon!” from the Queen. Her first burst of confidence.

“Oh, come now, it's not like nobody knows. They certainly do.” He paused, then he spoke again voice softened, whether from fear of the king or real empathy she could decipher. “Apologies, my tone was harsh. I simply meant that everyone does know. We can't quite hide the fact, besides you’ve been pretending he’s yours this whole time, anyway.”

“Yes, well.”

“We can deal with the issue of who is inheriting the throne until we figure out what family tree is legitimate.”

“Yes! Which is the one stating I am the father of the firstborn of the queen, who is therefore the heir to the throne, making me also a regent.” Duke Mavors argued.

He really had this all researched out, didn’t he?

“But why do we need the tree? Isn’t it obvious? The firstborn legitimate son should inherit the throne? Yes?” the queen raised her own voice.

“The important thing right now is, only one tree was approved by the council and the former king, rest his soul, and that is the only valid one which will determine whose son sit’s son the throne, legitimate or not.” Julian said firmly. “So until that point, it is still unknown.”

“But what about the coronation gala?”

“Coronat- you were planning to coronate Benedict without acknowledging his true parentage?”

“Why should that be your concern? You only did this because you wanted a piece of the throne yourself!”

“How dare you! You know I loved Cordelia. Maybe I just want that amended.”

“That’s Her Majesty to you, Duke, remember your place.” Aldrick snapped.

“Pulling the power card while claiming I’m the one power climbing? Oh, that’s rich.”

“Gentlemen!” both Cordelia's and Julian's voices rang clear. Stopping even the mumblings of the council as they debated the scene in front of them.

“With all due respect, I’d like to ask you all to leave. Arguing will not solve this issue right now. Letting me begin the authentication of the seals will.” Julian ended the debate.

The council members parted as the nobles emerged from the office, the duke, plowing his way ahead, spat over his shoulder as he marched towards the doors.

““You cannot deny it any longer, Aldrick! You should be thankful I’m not claiming Cordelia as my own. I could argue your marriage un-founded.”

“You wouldn’t dare.” The king planted his feet, daring the Duke to turn and face him.
“Haven't I? Hah! I look forward to seeing you at my ball.” The duke spun on his heel to send the retort towards the king without stopping his pursuit of the front doors.

Aldrick waited as the duke opened the doors, light spilling in and down the hall, lighting the king up like a fuming ball of light, until both the light and the back of the duke dissapeared with the slam of the doors.

Aldrick inhaled slowly, his body shaking. Then he turned on the men behind him.

“Which one of you was it?” The demand echoed, unanswered.

“Which one of you forged it!” he spat.

Someone quivered out an unintelligible answer.

Cordelia lingered by the doorway, only visible to Verena by the spill of her hem through the threshold of the door.

Verena saw the fire in Aldrick's eyes simmer as the queen caught his eye. He gave the group of men one last long look; “I would command you as your king, but I don’t know if I have that respect anymore. Council is dismissed.”

The council's members parted as the King plowed through them, guiding his wife down the bookshelf-lined corridor. The doors closed with a sharp bang. Nobody moved for a few moments.

Slowly, the council members moved, filling out, giving their excuses and thanks to Julian and they let themselves out. The door slammed shut for a final time.

Silence settled in on the library, cut short by another one of Julian's long sighs.

“This is what I signed up for, my circus my monkeys...” she heard him mumble.

Verena crept back over to her original entry point on the balcony. With the space now clear of people. Julian stood in front of his desk, with white-gloved hands, as he carefully smoothed and rolled up a long strip of parchment with red dots down one side. The seals that had been mentioned, perhaps?

Finished with the scroll, he set it in a tube and started on the next one, rolling it up carefully and setting it in another thick paper tube. He set them in the center of the table, side by side, ensuring they didn't start rolling before he took a final look around the office and left, sealing the doors to the office and entry to the archives shut.

But not locked? Verena noted Julian never raised a key to the doors, just left the building, grumbling to himself about food and the disrespect of the peaceful library space.

She saw James move towards the middle of the room, peering around the bookshelves as the front doors closed without any dramatic flair.

“Shall we do a little breaking an entering?” James said, looking up at her, his voice not quite loud enough in the echoing space.

“Seeing as he didn’t lock it, it’s just entering, perfectly legal.” Verena dusted off her hands as she picked herself up from the floor.

“Which also means he’s not going to be gone long.” James strode over to the doors and ducked inside.

Verena half-ran the length of the balcony to reach the stairwell. The metal spiral staircase clanked loudly as she descended it. She retrieved her stockings and shoes before meeting James in Julian's office, stopping in the doorway to slip them back on.

James was sorting through the desk drawers. “I’m trying to find something I can use to-ah; this should work.” He pulled out a piece of paper, and careful not to disturb the two cylinders containing the trees, he laid both the note and the newfound piece of paper on the desk, then pulled a magnifying glass out of another drawer and began comparing them.

Verena marked the cylinders' positions on the table by laying pens around them, then took on and slid the paper out, carefully unrolling part of it on the floor. "The bit we need should only be at the bottom, ah yes. Good. Saves me space and time.”

Not finding the duke's name attached to the tree, she returned it to its tube and traded it for the second one, unrolling it on the floor again.

“It’s times like this that it’d be useful to have a very small camera.” James set down the magnifying glass.

“It’d be useful to have many more things than that., right now. Is it a match?’ conforming the Duke's name on the second tree, she paused to look up at him.

“Yes, I believe so, unless someone happens to have an uncannily similar hand to Julian’s. We still don’t know why he would be sending us notes? “

“Or how did he know who we are, or who we work for? He hasn’t particularly shown any signs in conversation.”

Verena hummed as she turned back to the paper. That’s a question I don’t know the answer to, and one I really should.

She examined the red dots on the side they were indeed seals. Wax seals with a symbol pressed into the middle while the wax was hot.

It must be some sort of royal sigil, maybe on a ring, judging by the size. Question is, how would one fake that without having access to the ring for even a short period.

A thud echoed through the hall. Julina had returned. Verena unceremoniously rolled the paper back up, stuffed it into its tube and yet it back in place. James chucked the pens back drawer along with the magnifying glass, pocketing both the note and the scrap of paper. He peered out the door. “He’s coming clear down the hall. We can't leave without him seeing us.”

“Then we make it look like we’re supposed to be here.” Verena swiveled and took a seat in one of the chairs as her mind raced. James joined her after a few moments of mild fidgeting. He attempted to look relaxed as he laned on the wall.

Julian's footsteps became louder as he neared, his steady gait pausing as he reached the door and stepped inside, mumbling. “Strange, could have sworn I closed the- oh. Hello.”

“Oh, Julian! There you are,” James looked up as if he hadn’t heard him coming.

“Yes. I would be in my office. Can I ask why you are here?”
“Funny thing, though, you weren’t in your office. We are here since we were, hinging on the expectation that you would in fact be within your office.” Verena smiled.

She watched Julian put her sentence together, before he simply replied with a slow “I see.”

He walked over to his desk, eyeing the tubes, and then them, before clearing them to the side and setting a packet on the table. “What can I help you with?”

“Well, you see-” Verena started, her story brewing in her head

“actually, we were wondering.” James interjected, pausing to give Verena a glance, of which she narrowed her eyes at him, but allowed him to continue.

What are you up to?

“We were wondering if you’d like to come to the market with us.” James pushed himself off the wall.

“The market? Julian straightened with interest.

“Yes, there’s a market in town in the afternoon today. I, uh, I was going to visit someone, and I invited her ladyship, as she had mentioned wanting to experience the local culture here was like, and she suggested we invite you. Y’know with all your local knowledge and,” James waved his hand. “This going on, might be a nice break, for all of us really.”

Julain looked down at the scrolls. “so you want a tour guide?” He chuckled. “I mean, that does sound awfully nice.”

“Surely whatever you're working on could wait until evening.” Verena added her piece.

“I suppose I could-” Julian started to pick up the packet again.

“Fantastic! We shall get started right away.” Verena interrupted him, standing up from her seat and leading the way ou., James lingered back slightly, pulling the master librarian along with questions about the packet, which Julina soon unveiled to be a sandwich that he all devoured before they’ve even left the castle grounds.

Verena let James and Julian keep up most of the conversation, keeping to herself as she observed the countryside. Sure, they’d driven along this route already, but seeing it on foot gave you the chance to really see it. The real question was, why on earth were they going to a market on a Wednesday afternoon?