Chapter 3 - Part VI

"Trouble my dear Genevieve? Is the ghost of my cousin haunting you this night?" her lover queried upon her return to the bedroom. He sat up against the elongated sleeping couch, red satin pillows at his back. His wavy brown half bound hair was tucked behind his ears, revealing the tattoo, Antlers of the Rein, on the leftmost ear. Under the light padded blanket he rested, naked and at ease in a luxurious estate that far exceeded his own remote mountain abode in comparison.

"The matter is inconsequential. I have dealt with it. Please," she added with mock formality, "let us get back to the part where you were exploring the insides of my thighs." her face melted into a smile only half intended to evade his question. "I am interested in conducting some of my own research, you see."

As she slid onto the low standing pillowed couch, she exiled her robe to the floor in an effort distract the man lying in her bed. He obliged by pulling her hips onto the couch where he began to indulge her desires.

"I am looking forward to tomorrow, what ever your plans, my portentous little bee," he submitted in the breath between a long kiss, "You never fail to entertain."

She drew his head to her lips again briefly before replying, "Ha! And what am I to do with you now, my great stag?"

The question had passed through both of their thoughts on more than one occasion. The lord of House Archne lay slain, and his widow would take his mantle. But the best of dances were performed as duets as the orchestra rarely played for one. Even still, the lords and ladies of Eirdred would not look kindly upon the merging of power and money of two houses. Were the heads of two houses to wed, one would have to renounce their claims to their own house.

For her part, Ruby did not welcome another man in her daily life, even one subservient to her own whims. However a master of a house must be wed, and it was far easier a task to wed an ally than an enemy, or worse still, an unknown. The nobility would allow her a span of mourning time, perhaps 6 months, or a year even, if she could charm her enemies as allies alike. After that, the assassins would begin to rain down upon her. Enemies who feared her unilateral command over the House Archne would succumb to paranoia or opportunism and strike first. Allies would see her as bucking tradition and would question her dedication to a dance with no partner. Her servants would be compromised or their loyalties purchased; life would be a daily routine of hiding and outmaneuvering the ambitions of others.

But these were thoughts for another day. Lord Lot was not interested in discussing the matter and instead replied, "There are a great many things you can do with me, my lady," he pulled her closer to himself, "or that I can do with you this night."

A girlish giggle not heard since maidenhood escaped her lips, "This is why in all my heart, I adore you my lord."

Chapter 3 - Part V

Still clad in her sleeping robe, Ruby surveyed the damage. Three guards laid dead; their life blood giving a new colorful ambiance to the dull gray prison. Their bodies were strewn about the dungeon and guard quarters' floors. Two more were missing cowards, muttered the Lady. When we next meet I shall cut their hearts out myself. Still, they would all be replaced easily enough.

"Jakob and Samael were murdered where they slept, my lady. Jackson must have headed them off but his wounds were too fatal and he fell by the dungeon door. Petir and Dugan will be hunted down, I assure you." reported the captain of her estate guards.

"Show me." Ruby commanded and the captain led her to the cells where the Nü girl and Cedric had been held. At the doorway laid Jackson; a table leg turned stake protruded from his side. A miserable way to die.

"Jackson must have slit the vermin's throat before he died," he pointed to the crumpled figure lying along the corridor. The lifeless Nü had fallen ungracefully - the rags she wore now exposed her small bottom. Her bronze skin was painted with the evidence of the struggle and her face drowned in a pool of her own blood.

Frustrated, Ruby pulled back her leg and delivered a massive blow to the abdomen of the corpse. How dare that filthy beast steal her triumph. Ruby was so close to a perfect dance. The Lady Genevieve would be elevated to House ruler, but would maintain her innocence. Indeed, there would be those who knew, deep down, that the widow conducted the orchestra, but they would enjoy the music far too much to wish her to stop playing. But now, though the tune had begun, the key melody, the cathartic executions of Cedric and the girl, would be absent.

"And what of Cedric?" she demanded as she spun on her heel.

"In the dormitory, under the bunks, my lady." He brought the irate woman over to one of the cots set up for the men at arms. Under the wooden frame, a pale blonde man with a head smeared by pulp and ooze laid in the fetal position. In spite of the mess, it was hard to mistake the man's flax hair and delicate hands of the former head chef of her kitchens.

"A coward to the end Cedric." she accused, but observed, "Which is why you were such an effective tool." She pursed her lips and paused for a second, to assess the situation. With executive decision, the Lady Genevieve Archne firmly commanded, "String them up. I want their corpses desecrated and their heads on pikes before breakfast. I will have something to show my guests, who so kindly traveled miles upon miles to be with us."

The guard nodded and turned to leave before she spoke once more, "And tell the kitchen to change the menu so sausage."

If the new head of House Archne could not hide her incompetence in letting her victims die before she gave them leave to, then she would cover the mistake with ruthlessness. Perhaps this way might even work in her favor. The Enforcers might leave her alone if the Empress saw her as merely a rash, bloodthirsty fool rather than the master strategist she was; she thought she was. The other nobles might stop wasting her time with their petty polkas of political intrigue and she could work.

See, there you go Ruby! Always turning rain into rainbows! She smiled to herself as she headed back to the warm bed complete with one Lord Lucius Lot of Reinfeld.

Chapter 3 - Part IV

She made no secret of her actions once Cedric was safely out of the district. Undoubtedly Henri saw proof of his own dominance over his woman when she broke down and informed him that she had sent Cedric to warn her lover of the danger he would soon face from his cousin. Her confession, dribbled out between tears and sobs, that he traveled with only a few friends to save time, was made due to his fierce intimidation, not a woman's manipulation.

Convincing the man to seek revenge behind the mask of banditry was a little more difficult, but her husband did see reason to avoid having a lord of House Archne be seen as openly harassing travelers on the Empress's road.

And with this she would not need to await the birth of a left ear offspring and take control of the house under his name. Ruby, the Lade Genevieve, whore of the streets turned bride of the House Archne, would become its sole ruler. She could continue her work without the curiosity and accidental meddling of a man who saw the world in only one dimension. Her victory would be complete, and it would be now.

At least, that was what was supposed to happen. There were to be no survivors, none who could put the pieces of the puzzle together save for Lot and herself. But Cedric and the girl who yet lived would soon have one more role to play in Ruby's plan.

Lady Archne's guests were entertained, well fed and thirsty for blood. Now, she was well primed to deliver. The curvaceous noblewoman had initially found the news to be quite vexing. That Cedric and the female Outer Crestan still lived and breathed had made her livid. Had Garreth, the GuardHand, double-crossed her or was he simply inept? How did that filthy primitive Nü-creature survive battle hardened warriors of the highway?

That girl was Nü, right? The Nü are the ones with the golden eyes right? Can't keep track of all those Dagleth-cursed savaged tribes.

Ruby, not one to let misfortune slow her down, soon found luck in her failure. That the girl had no skill in the Eirdren tongue, or even in Lithenese or Sandoran meant she would be a fine, fleshy body to throw before the crowd. No secrets, no explanation, would cross her lips. She could die in front of the audience, sealing away Ruby's sin into the Nü's eternal guilt, and the Lady Archne could play the bereaved widow without concern. This was a welcome gift from Dagleth, seductive Keeper of Prosperity and Ambition.

And the bloodletting would culminate with her own as the Archne symbol was imprinted upon her left ear, finally matching the right. It wasn't that she despised her husband, he was a decent, if simple man. But he had become a nuisance to her goals and her work. And how she coveted his left ear, whispering softly upon his sensitive skin in the dark of night, arousing his passions for the chance to be so close to that delicious scent of freedom. The death of Henri, and those of Cedric and the girl were the necessary price of progress.

But now, Ruby grimaced, viewing the bodies strewn across the interlocking stonework of the dungeon floor, that boon had been revoked with interest. The center piece of her masterful choreography had been obliterated. The dead dance poorly.

Chapter 3 - Part III

Ruby's plan was simple, even moreso because the blunt and emotionally exposed man Henri proved himself to be time and time again, was at the center of it. The young lord has not been shy about displaying his possessive jealousy regarding his new, ivory wife.

He had been a man ill-suited for both the Dance and all other matters of the heart, so fate was cruel to him to have ever given the boy a place of power. Ruby had but to infer the slightest breeze of infidelity to cause the man to abandon reason for an unyielding thirst for retribution.

And thus the conductor begins to mark time.

Upon the death of his wife, the rural lord Lucius of House Lot, distant cousin to House Archne, had made it to the city of Eirdred to honor his wife and keep contact with his brethren.

The Unification Treaties signed generations ago with the Heilthian Scholar Emperor Ferl had bequeathed the lands that now made up the Eirdred Province to the 11 families of the city, but this was done at the cost of the autonomy of the plainsland and mountain peoples who never swore allegiance to Eirdred. Jealously guarding their prize, however, the 11 families quickly laid claim to parcels of choice territories which soon became a dumping ground for the second sons and daughters of a nobility trapped in the confines of city walls.

Rural lords eventually developed their own houses, but they often maintained close contact with the city lords that birthed them. The House Rienfield had dutifully performed upkeep on its relationship with House Archne from father to daughter, mother to son, so Lot's visit to Henri was not unexpected. His encounter with the young bride of Archne, on the other hand, was a most enjoyable diversion.

He almost pitied his cousin, a brash, naive man with a woman so painfully cunning and self aware, but the taste of forbidden fruit was simply too sweet. Indeed, the woman was to be savored all the more when she revealed to Lot her intentions to make their affair known to her husband, to provoke him into stupidity.

The orchestral prelude begins.

Over a period of months, Ruby had planted the seeds of jealousy and inadequacy in the mind of her lord-husband. She sent her personal chef, the private and perfectly reserved Cedric, on long journeys to Castle Reinfeld, harboring notes laced with confessions of obsession and deeds of the night.

Cedric was a quiet man, yet somehow Henri was able to happen upon one of these notes - an experiment in human behavior that resulted in precisely the reaction Ruby had been looking for. In a fit of rage he confronted the Lady Genevieve and her messenger as they discussed his next trip. Spittle gleaming on his lips, he spat out accusations and berated Ruby and without her coaxing, would have murdered the chef that night. Cedric's death would have been a disastrous outcome but for Ruby - maintaining her victim at a consistent level of anger was not an easy task. For her rescue effort she received more than a few bruises and was forced to cross boundaries of the flesh she had clung to for years.

But it was worth the effort. Henri responded like clockwork.

The next morning Lady Genevieve had solicited the services of an obscure, but well recommended group of foreign mercenaries who, in spite of their skill, would not be missed. Sending Cedric to Reinfeld Castle one last time would be his death sentence, but it could not be avoided.

Chapter 3 - Part II

And that is how she managed to become a right ear. Henri's heart and loins were malleable enough. An accomplishment that in her mind should have been considered a triumph of cleverness and skill was somewhat empty once acheived. In her adoptive world, the world of the Dance of Roses, her status as a right ear was a detriment, and one that should be remedied.

In a society that allows, and even encourages new and creative dancers on the stage, the path Ruby took was not unheard of. The anthology of rags to riches right ear stories was a heavy tome indeed. And while tales of social elevation were often elaborated into tales of mystical coercion or destiny, there were far more examples of men and women being in the right place at the right time; a chance meeting with a lonely Lady of the court, a serving girl's wifely qualities being noticed by her master.

It should never be said, however, that those in the Dance of Roses held no genuine affections. Stone does not dance well. The lords and ladies of the Dance were prone to succumb to pleasures of the flesh and heart the same as any man. An unwed noble son smitten with his maid was hardly expected to control his urges. He need only follow the proper steps to flow with the music.

But, as marriage was a requirement for any inheritance of title or deed, sometimes a quick wedding to a servant was the best way to secure succession, and there are many who seek to raise their lot in life. For every pleasant meeting and marriage between two genuine love birds, there were a dozen manipulated hearts and minds. A Lord or Lady Benefactor could mean the difference between a short life of struggle and a lavish life of privileged.

Not every person would view this path as advancement of course. In the cutthroat Dance of Roses, only the very ambitious or very naive willingly joined. An unambitious right ear would be wise to keep her head down and out of trouble, but Ruby was no such woman. With the talents and figure needed to ensnare the young Archne heir, Henri, she knew she could go further.

"Never trust a right ear." she overheard a maid chatter to her lady in waiting over tea. "If they were cunning and manipulative enough to win the hand of a true born left ear, there is no telling whose throat they will slit next for more power." Indeed, she was not far from the mark, for although the Eirdren nobility held a derogatory view of right ears, they were also fresh blood and they held the promise of a more entertaining dance. Castrating a right ear of agency and power was as much designed to coax the ambitious out of the confining box they were packing into as it was to limit untested influence.

In this life, there were two ways to become a left-eared noble; be born to a noble house, or gain control of one. As titles and land were in short supply in the well established hierarchy, particularly for the urban lords, the best way of acquiring such control was by taking it from your spouse, recently turned corpse.

Chapter 3 - Part I

With haste, slippers scuffled against stone and exotic silken pajamas, imported through the Independent Duchy of Vem, swayed down dank stairs more accustomed to tougher soles. Each descending stair brought a deeper understanding of the tolerance levels of the nose, but the young noblewoman was not a stranger to the stench of blood and decay. For although today she wore the soft garments of wealth and privilege, there was a time when she was fortunate to be wearing anything at all, especially in bed.

The carefully crafted hornet tattoo gracing her exposed ear identified her as a right ear noble - one who married into the house and remains its vassal, not its master. Like the name she had been forced to take upon her betrothal, Lady Genevieve Archne, life as a right ear was false. It was a mask, donned only to get through the ballroom doors and enter the dance.

Her ear had been an obstacle to her ambitions for awhile now, but there was a time when she could imagine no other flight of fantasy to be so impossible than to have that imprinted tattoo upon her person. Ruby, as she was known before her ascension into the ranks of the nobility, spent her youth among countless names, in places where the moon was queen. Death was never far from her doorstep; a doorstep that changed whenever her mother was able to secure a new patron. And when no patron could be found, Ruby's doorstep was the stone cobble of the streets.

Prior to Ruby's birth, her mother had much less difficulty in finding patrons, or at least could earn enough from clientele interested in only a night of pleasure. When Ruby came into her life, the game had changed. Her body was worn and the needs of her child cost her more freedom than coin. Her mother had never forgiven her for that.

Nonetheless, she had kept the two of them safe for sometime, landing a contract with one of the strongmen of the streets, almost feeling like a dutiful wife with child. To the men she serviced, however, Ruby's mother was ultimately only a possession - a toy to be used or discarded at whim.

Or abused.

The beatings were minor at first, but over time the young Ruby learned first hand that men could be a great many things, but most importantly, they could be a source of both pain and pleasure. Man as an object is a double edged sword that must be wielded carefully. The men of her mother's life were poisonous, offering far more risk than reward. The girl promised herself at an age earlier than she needed to be to truly understand the undertakings of her mother, that she would not make the same mistakes as her mother. She would pick out her conquests strategically.

Her mother had become a fool. She used the wrong men, sought frivolous things from them, and bowed to their will out of fear. Ruby, turned Genevieve when she earned that hornet tattoo, passed her fingers over her ear thoughtfully. The skills she employed to this day were those of her mother's and thousands of prostitutes before her since the Sundering. Charm, allure and a touch of deceit was all that was needed to survive in this world. To thrive required skill and strategy.