Agents of Time: Chapter Sixteen; To be or not to be, that is the question.

The castle had been in a sot of tensioned quiet chaos since the meeting with the archduke. When Verena and the other lades in waiting had arrived he next morning they found the queen already up and about. Draped in a flowing robe, sitting at her desk, buried in papers.

“Searching for any sort of information that would tell who could take the throne.” She had said when they questioned her tasks. Of, course they now had to prepare for a ball at the dukes now too. It was turning into a grand affair, much to the dismay of the monarchs.

The king was absent most of the day, but Benedict and Darko seemed to follow their mother like a pair of moths to the light. The awkward stage between them had passed, and they seemed like two peas in a pod.

Everyone had a task, each situated on their own couch or corner, sometimes getting up and conferring with her majesty at her desk. Some pouring over documents, some preparing things for the dukes ball.

Carts of tea and small finger food came and went. Verena couldn’t help but chuckle of the sight of Fiona, her orange skirts fluffier around her, elbows in the table in front of her, head inches form the document she was studying. Everyone seemed equally dedicated to finding out anything that could possibly be useful. Even Verena, although her motives weren’t quite the same as the rest of them.

At least the whole event sat everyone in the same room and gave her the ability to finally observe the two princes more closely.

With the coronation galas pan ground to a halt by the archduke’s claims. Their tasks had turned into embordering several handkerchiefs. A token that the queen wanted handed out when the coronation id take place. They could still prepare some things, but no concrete plans. But better to be prepared. Or at least that’s what the queen had said, visibly clinging to the last shred of hope that they could bury this once and for all.

With the ball falling too close to provide dress fittings, Maria had collected an existing dress to alter and refresh for the season.

Leaving them to idlily wait in suspense. Which Verena couldn’t help but wonder if that had been part of the duke's plan.

Verena pulled the needle through the fabric. The motion of the slow, careful stitches had a soothing effect, clearing her mind. However, her slow movements meant she was paced behind the other women, who hardly seemed to glance at their needles as they worked.

Fiona set a finished handkerchief down and sighed, stretching her fingers.” I’d say we’re due for some tea. Gripping the needle for so long is starting to make my hands ache.”

“It has been a few hours.” Rodina glanced at the clock. “I’ll ring for tea.”

Fiona looked over at Verena.” You certainly work slowly.” She looked back at her own pile. “Or maybe I’m just fast?”

Benedict rested his arms on the back of the couch Verena sat on and picked up one of her finished handkerchiefs. “Slow or fast, you're very precise.”

They didn’t quite teach sewing at the Agency, but at least she knew how to switch a wound, and that was close enough. “Thankyou.” Verena stuck her needle into the fabric and set the frame down. “What are you two up you? You’ve certainly been quite chatty.”
“Oh, Darkos just filling me in on his days at the academy.”
“That sounds positive?” Verena tilted her head. “Care to share anymore stories with us? I’m sure it’d be lovely to hear over tea.”

“Tea?” the queen stood in the doorway to her study. Forehead creased with too much brow furrowing and face drained. “That sounds lovely.”

“Goodness, mother you look exhausted.” Benedict took her gently by the arm and guided her to the nearest settle. “I’ll go check on the tea. Darko, why don’t you keep mother company?”

Darko nodded and drifted over to the seat beside her.

Cordelia turned to him, gathering his nearest hand in hers. “Thank you, Dark. Now tell me, how have you been settling in so far?” ‘
“Well. I think, mother.” Darkos voice choked on mother, like he wasn’t used to saying it.

When had they last been together? Had Darko spent most of his young years at the academy?

“That’s good.” Her Majesty smiled. “I was hoping your first gala back would be the coronation gala, but it seems our plans have been rather twisted. I’m sorry this had to happen so soon after you retuned.”

“It would only happen when I returned. That’s what he was waiting for.” The prince combed his hands through his golden-blonde hair.

Which son was the dukes? Both boys bore a resemblance to their mother, a miracle. Considering their well attempts to hide each boy's true father. She stared at Darko, trying to pick out anything that the queen didn’t have and compare it to the king and the duke. But with neither of them in the room themselves, and with only a handful of time with them each. Her efforts looked more like she was just rude.

Benedict bounded back into the room.” Tea is on its way!” he announced.

“You didn’t have to go down.” Rodina was standing by the window. Seemly enjoying the spring rainstorm that had rolled in.

“They’re all so busy preparing for the upcoming ball. Plus, a little exercise never hurts. “Say.” The prince turned to Verena. “I know your chauffer seems partial to automobiles, but I never inquired on whether not you enjoy horseback riding? I thought I’d take Darko out to see the grounds once the weather clears, maybe could take you as well? You're both unfamiliar with it.”

She could fi she had to.” Yes, I would love that.” It’d give her a good chance to observe the two outside of their duties and without the rest of the nobles. People showed their true colours when they were in their comfort zones. For Benedict, that could be free in the outdoors. “Although.” She mused, looking out the window by Rodina. “That may be awhile. The rainstorm has been pouring down since this morning.”

“Ah yes, but you see, that means it’s passing over us. So, it's leaving! The rain can't last forever. I’m sure we’ll get a sunny patch. At least before the ball that is.”

“I suppose this will be your first real official entrance into society, since you retuned and was introduced at the last one.” Fiona's mind was obviously elsewhere, intersecting her thoughts with their conversation. “I’d be happy to introduce you to some nobles your age?”

Verena would guess that Fiona herself was around the princess’s age. Was she hoping to use Darko to climb the social later a bit more? Or did she have her sights set on marriage? Although it was more likely that the princes' marriages would be arranged by their parents for political alliances. Not that she could imagine what the duke had in mind for his son. Was that his plan then? Host a ball where both princes were present and cement his claim by announcing an engagement?

Darko considered Fiona's offer, glancing at Benedict, who sat down next to her. “I would appreciate that. However, my brother has already promised he’d introduce mt to all the prettiest ladies. “

Benedict laughed heartily.” You can't say that to Fiona!”

“Oh.” Darko furrowed his brow. “No, I only meant that- I’d didn’t mean to say that you’re not pretty or- maybe that- your help is apprec-“

Darkos confusion only made Benedict laugh harder until he doubled over, settings off a radiantly refreshing smile from her majesty. Verena couldn’t help but feel the side of her lips prick up. Even if he was her son, regardless of his father. The boy still had an awkward streak to get over before he was truly comfortable.

It wasn’t until Benedict finally stifled his laughter, along with Fiona giving him a gentle swat on the arm with her fan and him patting Darko on the back as an apology, that the butler cleared his through from where he stood in the main doorway.

“Ah, Mr. Daran. The tea must be here.” Rodina finally turned away from her window.

“Yes.” the butler hesitated as he stepped aside to let two maids in. Verena recognized them as two of the other ladies’ maids. Anna must be busy downstairs. The butler caught Verena’s attention.” Actually. I’ve also come to talk to Viscountess Parker, if I’m not interrupting?”

He wanted to talk to her? What about? Had Julian done something? Was he desperate enough to fling both herself and James into some scandal or other to obstruct their plans?

The butler didn’t speak until Verena stepped out into the hall with him. His face wrinkled with worry. Certainly not the expression he would have worn had Julian framed them for something.

“I don’t mean to give you any alarm.” He started.” But have you seen Chadwick?”

“No, he’s on bed rest, isn’t he?”

“Well, yes, he is. I really don’t mean to insinuate anything to cause worry its just-”

“Just what?”

“Well, this woman came to the servants' door a few minutes ago, saying she knew him and wanted to visit. Said her name was Amber.”

“Yes. I know Amber.”

“Yes, well. We let her in, showed her to the spare room in the servants’ quarters where he was staying.” He paused again. “But seconds later she came running into the kitchen asking about, well. She said he wasn’t there. So, we checked the bedroom he was resting in, and it was empty. So, I was wondered he’d said anything to you?”

“He’s not in bed? But he couldn’t have gone far?” Not to mention, why would he have even left? Far be it from James to pass up a nap. Unless, had he gone to see Julian? “Have you asked the Master Librarian? “

“No, I haven’t.” The butler frowned. “I’ll go inquire of him no-”
“Pardon me!” Ana interrupted them, marching up, issuing an out of breath apology. “There’s someone downstairs at the door asking for you, milady.”

“James?” Verena and the butler said, looking at each other, before they all turned and headed in the same direction. Verena took the lead, for once outpacing Ana.

He must have gone to Julian's . But had no one seen him leave? Surely, he couldn’t have left fast and quietly enough for that. Unless he left last night. So, why show up at the door now? Had he found new information?

Her footsteps thudded down the stairs, and the entry hall came into view, reminding her that a lady wouldn’t make her footsteps echo this loudly. She forced her steps to slow, taking in the empty foyer. Where was James?

“Milady!’ Ana caught up to her as Verena paused at the foot of the stairs. “I told him to wait in the sitting room.”

Why would she put James in the sitting room? She crossed the entry hall, making for the pair of open double doors that led into the nearby sitting room.

She stopped inside the doorway.

A figure stood, back to her, the light from the windows painting them as a shadow, washing out her eyesight. All save for the unmistakable swath of red hair on his head, set ablaze by the sun.

But this was the UK, surely every Scotsman and his mum had red hair. It could be anyone else.

“Tybalt?” she said quietly, unsure. Not quite wanting to admit to herself that it wasn’t James.

“Ah.” The figure's head tilted in recognition of the voice, and they turned and smiled. A wide, full smile that happened when you knew you had the upper hand, when you knew something the other didn’t. When you'd succeeded in the perfect amount of success and suspense.

“Lady-No Viscountess Parker, was it?” Tybalt purred.
“Yes.” Verena gave a nod to the butler and Ana, who still stood a few moments away, dismissing them. Then she quietly closed the door.

Tybalt watched her from where he stood. “Nice place you’ve got here. Fancy.”
“Yes, “she said again, the doors closing with a click. In a few quick, long strides, she was face to face with him. “Why are you here?”

“Same reason you were. I was sent.” He gazed down at her, hands in his pockets.
“I was told this was a mission of the utmost secrecy,” she paused. “Aren’t you supposed to be dead”? The thought interrupted her thinking and her sentence at the same time.
“Didn’t stick.” Tybalt couldn’t resist a smile. “Actually, I survived the explosion. I got out.”

“But I got the premier out.” Are you not the one who’s supposed to have protected him? The underlying question bled through.
“Yes, you did.” That was your job. “Again, I was sent here. You were told, yes?” Tybalt glanced at her watch.

The mole? “You, they sent you? So, you have answers.”

Tybalt wandered over to the couch and sat. “Sure. I’m more of an aid.”

“But you have answers.” Verena emphasised.
Tybalt admired the ceiling. “You seemed to be expecting someone else when you came in here. Is everything okay?”

Her gut twisted. She didn't really want to tell him. But he was on their side. Besides, this was Tybalt. The best undercover agent there was, a man who played games for decades, a brilliant actor whose dramatic flair came from his beloved name.

“I was looking for James, actually. He was on bedrest due to a head injury, but now he seems to be missing.” Verena said.

“Head injury? I didn’t know being a chauffeur was that dangerous. But then again, I supposed with the lack of safety requirements.” Tybalt mulled. “Missing, eh? Well, Y’know, James. He’s, Y’know. Cold feet, probably.”

Verena frowned. “No? He’s probably with the Master of the Archives.”
Tybalt raised his eyebrows like she jst made the name up on the spot. “The who of what.”

“If you’re here to be helpful, then please do so now.”

Tybalt clasped his hand.” Yes, of course, the mission is of the utmost importance. How about we go somewhere a bit more private? You can give me an overview of the information you’ve gathered so far and the plans you have put into play and are in play.”

Good, now they were getting somewhere. “We can go to my room. I have my file papers there. Although.” She paused. “You can't be seen coming into my room. “

Tybalt smiled. “I think I can manage that. Far be it from me to wreck the mission I was sent for, by creating a scandal for you.”

To his credit, he did sneak into her room unnoticed. Although it wasn’t hard. The butler and Ana had both left the general area. The ladies-in-waiting and the queen and her sons still seemed to be in the queen's chambers. If the voices that trickled down the hall were any indicator.

“Cozy.” Tybalt wandered over to her desk, which stood empty and tidied. He pulled out the chair, lacing his fingers as he leaned on the desk with one arm, the other resting on his crossed legs. He faced her, the desk perpendicular to his body. “Alright, let's hear it.”
“Well.” Verena reached for the drawer she kept the files in, making sure that the notes stayed out of Tybalt’s sight.

Tybalt leaned back, but he still felt too close. His hot breath brushed her shoulder.

“Keeping case files in a desk drawer? What, do the maids not snoop around here?”

“Mine doesn’t.” Verena placed the papers on the desk, spreading them out as well as separating the notes. “So far, we’ve still been unable to verify who the actual heir to the throne is. One son is said fathered by Arch-duke Mavros, who is using it as his personal claim to the throne. It had to be verified if this is true, although it generally seems to be a badly hidden rumour that the queen and the duke did share a love before she was coronated and married to her now husband, King Aldrick. While we do not know whose son is who’s, the question still stands: who is legible to inherit the throne? Their majesty’s where set to host coronation ball. I would think to crown their biological son. However, the duke then came forth with a family tree, an additional one to the one in the archives. Both bear the royal seals. The only difference is that the duke's name appears in one, counting him as the father of one. We still don’t know what one is false. “

“I see,” Tybalt mulled this over. “You haven’t just dispatched them both because?” He drew his browed together in question. “It’s certainly the easiest answer to your problems.”

“The easiest yes, but.” How would that affect the timeline? They were told to dispatch the heir to the throne, not both princes, ye sit would accomplish the goal in the end, but it would significantly alter history. “But we can't predict how that would then affect history.”

“Good answer. It's safe to assume that Benedict is the heir, no? usually the legitimate son of both monarchs is inline to the throne.”
“Yes, but he may not be the oldest, plus we don’t know if the family name continues through the father or the mother. I should ask Julian about that.

“Julian?” Tybalt frowned

“Oh, the Master of the Archives, Julian. Easier than saying the whole title. “

“You’ve been asking him questions?”
“Nothing that’d put the mission at risk, just curiosities that I can spare since I’m still new to there Majesty’s court. Besides, it’s a can of worms with that one. You say one thing and he’ll goes off on a rabbit trail.”

Letting the agent that'd been sent to keep an eye on her, about the agent that abandoned the agency years ago didn't seem like the wisest idea. Yet. It would be helpful if she could confirm Julian's story, but there was no possible way to ask for that information without Tybalt getting suspicious.

"I suppose it was what you had at your disposal. Worry not, I am here now." Tybalt smiled. Again.

"Yes." Verena wished she could read the message the agency had sent again. What had it said? Something about an informant? Or had they sent someone to work alongside them, not simply as a messenger. Why not just send Tybalt in the first place?

Of course, being presumed dead during a mission start date probably didn't work out very well.

Tybalt was one of the few agents who didn't work with an assigned operative.

She turned away from Tybalt, who was still sitting on her chair, like history didn't depend on his being there.

Where was James? She couldn’t take Tybalt to the library to check. What if Tybalt recognized him?

As if reading her mind, Tybalt spoke again, turning her attention back to him. "So, James is missing, hum?"

"How does that affect this? Were you told to only speak to both of us? Can't you just tell me, and then leave? Or are you going to sit there, just-sitting there!" Verena fought the urge to raise her voice. Bringing anymore attention to the sitting room, when she already was receiving a mysterious visitor, was not what she needed right now. But something about Tybalt was getting her hackles up. She should have her guard down. He was on her side.

"You’re avoiding my question. He is gone?" Tybalt tilted his head. "And you don’t know why, where, or when?"

Verena turned, leaving the question unanswered as she faced the window. The storm still raged, heavy clouds covering the sky, rain splattering the window. She turned and glanced at Tybalt, who seemed to be savouring her inability to answer his question. The wool coat slung over his nineteenth century suit dry as a wick.

"You arrived within the castle?"

"You didnt answer my question."

"Since when does James matter? You’ve made it clear you don’t hold him in high regard. I am the agent. I am the one to care about. Give me the information you were supposedly sent to give and leave."

"I'll stay here as long as I like, and you...you're scared James abandoned the mission. That, is what I care about." Tybalt pointed a finger at her.

What was this an interrogation? Were her suspicions of the mission being a strange test correct?

Verena stared at him. And Tybalt, the absolute dummkopf he was, stared back.

A few seconds passed before a louder-than-it-should-be knock drew their attention to the door.

"Milady?" Ana’s voice rang through. “I saw you weren't in the sitting room, so I thought your guest would have left. Do you want some tea?"

Verena glanced wordlessly at Tybalt, who took that as a sign to make a straight dive from his chair to under the bed. An impressive feat if he wasn't so annoying right now.

Verena kicked his feet under the bed, not that they really stuck out. Then scooped the case files that were still spread out on the deck into a single drawer. “Yes, Ana, that would be lovely, come in." Then sat down on Tybalt’s recently vacated chair at her desk.

Ana entered, bearing a silver tea tray, complete with a pot a single cup. She must have had anticipated a yes. Or maybe nobody really refused tea in this castle.

"Working on some writing?" Ana set the tray down on one side of the desk.

"Yes," Verena fiddled with a fountain pen. "Yes, just seeing if I can figure some things out for the coronation, whenever it happens." She hoped Ana didn't there was no paper on the table. Tybalt had brought the files under the bed with him.

"Oh, very nice. Speaking of, Maria, the seamstress, has finished your gown for tomorrow."

"Tomorrow?"

"The Duke's ball?"

"Oh, yes, right."

"I'll bring it up later, and we can make sure it fits right." Ana clasped her hands."

Verena nodded. "Yes."

"Enjoy the tea." Ana took her que to leave and promptly left, shutting the door behind her.

As soon as the door had latched, Verena sprung up, crossing to it in two strides and locking it.

"A ball?" Tybalt emerged from the bed.

Verena poured the tea, the liquid splattering into the cup in loud and inelegant spurts.

Tybalt sat down on the bed, waiting until she'd set the pot down before he spoke again. "Alright, look." He sighed. “I’ll stop talking about your operative for now. If you'll cooperate with me on the mission, information now."

"You’re not cooperating with me." Verena cupped the painted China teacup in her palms, content for it to sit there and warm her hands than drink it.She needed to find James. But to find him, she needed to get Tybalt out of the way, at least for now. And he'd made it clear he wasn't going to until they discussed mission plans. At least a discussion was better than dwelling on the prospect of James becoming a deserter.

"Sure," Tybalt waved his hand.

"I will, however, for the sake of the mission," and James. "Share with you what i know, then you can fill in the gaps."

"This ball is one held by Archduke mavors. Which he seemed to be holding in an effort to hold off the coronation gala, as an attempt to force the royals' hand in officially accepting him as one of the prince's fathers and his place in the family tree, or really, the royal family. "

“Interesting,” Tybalt said, “so what’s the plan for the ball then. Poison the best option, with the crowd, it’d be easy to slip it into a drink.

“Poison?”

“Yes, did they give you any?”

“No.”

“Well, that does pose an issue. We can figure it out. What else?”

“There are two family trees, and the coronation won't happen until one is confirmed to be valid. Which, again, is the main reason we haven't proceeded. It’s not clear who is actually set to inherit the throne.

It’s safe to assume it's Benedict. Don’t you think it suspicious the way they sent him away? Better to keep the prince near that bears a closer resemblance until you can see how the other one turns out as he ages. Generally, the illegitimate son won't rise to the throne unless the heir dies or abdicates it.

“You’ve read the history, then they failed to provide us with that information. Information which you now have.”

“Yes, and you will be provided with it. Now, what of your plans?”

Verena sipped her tea, an excuse to waste a few seconds. Tybalt was taking his sweet time to give her the last pieces of information she needed. James was still missing. She needed to try to get him to tell her all the while pretending they had plans in place. The agency wanted his mission to succeed, and Tybalt’s spite for James was clouding that.

“Nothing really, since we didn't have the concrete information. You are right, though the ball would be ideal with the crowd. She sipped her tea again. Stifling the urge to fidget as anxiety brewed in her stomach. Jame’s words kept echoing into her head, about the director's wording "Eliminate by any means possible" didn't necessarily mean death, it meant use any means at your disposal. Therefore, could they not simply use something that would make him unsuitable for rule?

"Well, that I can help with." Tybalt smiled. He would know, wouldn’t he, what the director really meant? The only person who possibly was held higher in the directors regard than her was him. Which was becoming plainly clear with how little they've been thrown into this mission with. Could she inquire? No, somehow, that felt like lowering herself before him more than she already felt.

Before she could answer Tybalt, another knock sounded on the door. Tybalt frowned. Verena set her teacup aside and stood. “Yes, who is it?"

"On, Ana said you were in here. Is everything alright? You haven't come back yet,” Fiona’s concerned voice came through the door.

That’s right, she had abruptly left the queen's chambers. "Oh, yes I am thank you."

"Oh okay. " Fiona said. The shadow under the door told Verena that the woman still lingered. A few seconds passed until she spoke again. "Are you coming back then?"

Verena glanced at Tybalt, who was staring at the door as if he could shoo Fiona away with his mind. Did she have to return? No, nothing would be gained other than getting away from Tybalt for a bit, given that he was being entirely unhelpful. Besides, what excuse could she really give Fiona?

"Yes, actually, I'll be there in a moment."

"Oh, okay!" Fiona’s shadow disappeared from the door. Verena heard her footsteps return to the queen's chambers at the end of the hall.

"I thought you wanted to talk shop?" Tybalt stood.

"I should get back if I don’t want to arouse suspicion with no real reason to stay away."

"Very well. I'll occupy myself elsewhere, say, where does this Julian fellow work? The library?"

"Yes," she didn't want that encounter to happen. Not yet, at least. She still needed Julian. “But he won't be available today.”

"I see... well, good luck with your tasks," Tybalt excused himself. Verena was two steps in his wake, making sure he heard her step out of her room, shut her door and walk towards the queen's chambers.

She entered it, closing the door behind her with a click.

Fiona perked up from her seat on one of the couches, conveniently located so she had a clear view of the door.

"Oh, Viscountess, you've retuned! "Fiona’s statement drew every eye in the room towards her.

"Yes," the word that confusingly stained her sentences as of late was starting to sound wrong. "Actually, I just came to say i have some things to take care of, so if you'll excuse me." With that, she turned and quietly left the room again.

Verena rested, her back against the door, hands pressed to it, listening for signs of Tybalt in the hallway leading to the stairs. It was an abrupt, unladylike exit, but it was the one she needed right now. No questions, expect for the ones she wanted to ask.

Questions she needed Julian to answer.

With the hallway cleared, she slipped her heels off and made her way to the stairs, a plan to get to the library undetected by Tybalt brewing in her head. Chances are he hadn’t left the castle grounds.

The entry hall was miraculously clear

She found the door at the top of the stairs, disguised as a panel in the wall, but it gave the servants quick and hidden access to the floor from the upper servants' quarters.

Verena glanced at her watch before ducking into the dark stairway. It was nearly twelve, which meant the staff would be busy down in the kitchens and dining room preparing the noonday meal.

Heels still in hand, she ran up the stairs. She needed a disguise. A maid uniform would do for now. Emerging from the stairs into a white hallway lined with doors, all open, she slipped into the nearest one.

A basic room with two beds and a bedside table between them, sporting a singular window above and a dresser opposite.

She tugged the drawers open, making sure they were shut afterwards, until she came upon a swath of black fabric. Pulling it out, it unfolded into a simple black dress. She held it up to her shoulders. It should fit.

Verena pulled the bejewelled barrettes out of her hair and pulled the dress overtop of hers. It was long enough that it covered everything. Her shoes would be an issue, but from a distance or in passing nobody should notice to much. She found a white apron, hiding any visible jewelry in the pockets as she tied it around her waist. Lastly, she hastily pinned a white cap over her hair, and examined herself in a mirror she found in a water closet off the hallway.

At least they didn’t quite wear makeup I the daytime yet, nothing to have to tyr and smudge off. If he kept her head down and walked fast, she would be fine.

Slipping her heels back on, she stepped into a room that, if her mental map and sense of distraction hadn't gotten mixed up in the dark stairwell, it should give a window view towards the library.

It did. Giving her a clear, nearly bird's-eye view of the inner courtyard spanning towards the library. A courtyard that was miraculously clear. She looked at her watch again. The hands ticked towards twelve-fifteen. Now she just had to get to the library and intercept Julian before he headed in for lunch.