Chapter 2:
Louis paced around the room frantically, his fists clenched in anxiety. Terence watched this for a few moments, showing no outward signs of amusement, before returning to his papers. Louis stopped and stared at him.
"What are you doing?" he asked.
"Reading some reports on local cult activity. You should keep your eye on the Squid Circle."
"I mean what are you going to do about this?"
"This?"
"This! The situation we are currently in."
"I think the better question is what you are going to do about it."
"Me?"
"As you said, the king left you in charge. What are your orders Your Highness?"
"But I can't do this without Hebron!"
"Until he returns, it seems that you'll have to."
"What I mean is that I can't be in charge! I don't know how to lead a nation of men, er, monsters. I'm not the commanding kind!"
The gargoyle raised an eyebrow. "Then this will be a very interesting administration."
Groaning, Louis fell into the chair behind the desk and hid his face in his hands.
"This can't be happening" he moaned.
"Not to contradict, Your Highness, but observable evidence suggests otherwise."
"You are infuriatingly literal." replied Louis. "And please don't call me 'Your Highness.'"
"As you wish, Your Excellency." responded Terrence.
"Not that either."
"Your Grace?"
"Stop."
"In any case, the task of managing the kingdom's affairs will seem much less daunting once you've established your court."
"My-"
"Your court. Your retinue. Your round table. The assembly of advisors you keep to assist you in your duties."
"Isn't that what you're for?"
"I am your chief advisor, yes. But my expertise lies solely in the realm of infrastructure and administration. There is more to a nation than its government. There's its people, its politics, its economy, its defense... If you want to run an efficient autocracy, you'll need consultants with specialized knowledge of each."
"Shouldn't Ierne already have a full court?"
"We did, until you and your brother came along. All of our courtiers have either been slain in battle or have fled the country. All that's left is Hekate and I."
Louis stared at him. "I'm going to have to ask who that is and have you act all annoyed at having to explain something which you consider common knowledge but that I would have no business knowing, aren't I?"
"You learn fast." said Terence, flipping through his stack of papers and handing Louis a sheet.
Full Legal Name: Hekate Anput
Sex: Female
Race: Witch
Place of Origin: Misr
Date of Birth: July 23rd, 1397
Age: 108
Hair: White
Skin: Yes
Eyes: 2*
Height: 5'
Weight: [REDACTED]
Marital Status: Married
Occupation: Court Mage
Years of Service: 17
*Wadjet
"So she's a court mage." noted Louis. "And a witch." he added with a shudder.
"Is there a problem with that?" asked Terence.
"No, it's just that the last witch I talked to tried to turn me into a book. Not through magic either, the old fashion way."
"I can assure you that you will be very safe in Hekate's hands."
"Well, so long as you're assuring me..."
"Also, and I think this should go without saying, but it would behove you not to conventionalize the actions of an individual as characteristics of that individual's race."
"Uh..." Louis gave him a vacant look.
"Stereotyping is bad." the gargoyle spoke slowly, as if to a child.
"Oh, of course. I know that. I'm not trying to say that all witches are evil or anything, it's just that... doesn't becoming a witch involve selling your soul or something? To a demon? For power and forbidden knowledge?"
"Correct."
"So my apprehension is valid."
"I do not think you'll have to worry about Hekate, considering she works for you. You literally sign her pay cheque."
"It's good to know loyalty here is so easily bought."
Terence shrugged. "I'm sure you'll change you'll attitude once you actually meet her; which, assuming you're getting her help for your evening with Countess Mircalla, shouldn't be too long from now."
"My what with who?"
"A messenger came by a few hours ago. The Countess has invited you to meet with her privately tonight. In her own home no less."
"Why didn't you tell me about this earlier?"
"I'm an advisor, not a secretary."
"Well I can't actually be expected to attend, can I?"
"I don't see why not."
"But didn't you say she's only using me and Hebron to get what she wants?"
"I did say that."
"So then how can I possibly trust someone who is so clearly manipulating me for their own ends?"
"I take it that you're new to politics."
"This isn't funny!" cried Louis.
"I'm not joking. Dangerous or not, the Countess possesses valuable skills that you will need to legitimize your brother's claim to the throne."
"Wasn't it already legitimized? We had a coronation, what more do we need?"
"Is that where you think supreme executive power comes from? From some superfluous ceremony?"
Louis thought for a moment. "No, I suppose it comes from the people."
"If by people you mean six or seven very wealthy and politically powerful families, then you would be correct. How much do you know about the feudal system?"
"Feudalism? That's where the peasants work the land, the nobles work the peasants, the crown manages the nobles, and the church manages everyone. I'm not sure about the merchants, I suppose they just do whatever they want."
"A fair summation, however keep in mind that this is reciprocal. Just as they peasants provide goods and services for the nobles, the nobles must provide land to work and protection from external threats. If that mutualistic relationship is disrupted, the system falls apart and you have revolt. Likewise, just as the nobles pledge fealty to a monarch, the monarch must work to maintain the favor of their vassals, providing land, protection, and most importantly leadership."
"And if I can't do all that?"
"Then they will kill you and seize the throne for themselves."
"Huh." Louis felt his heart sink. "So there's no getting out of this is there."
"Not unless you are inclined to follow your brother's example."
"Is that an option?"
"I would be, if you were willing to leave the kingdom in a state of leaderless chaos."
"Couldn't I just find someone else to do it? Appoint someone as a proxy like Hebron did."
"You could, if it weren't for the fact that you're a proxy yourself. The power to appoint a trustee can only be held by the original title holder, that is to say, the king himself. If that wasn't the case, there would be no limit to how power could be shared. You can only dilute executive authority so far before you have complete barbarism."
"So instead you prefer to put all your eggs in one basket? Give all the power to one person to do with it as they wish?"
"It's not a perfect system by any means, but it has worked so far. And there are mechanisms in place to protect our monarchs from unauthorized homicide; Mithridate being one of them."
"Huh, I had completely forgotten about that stuff. You wouldn't happen to have any left for me would you? I have a strong aversion to being poisoned."
"If you recall, your brother, in his unfathomable wisdom, destroyed the last batch of the primary dose."
"What do you mean by primary?"
"Mithridate is a multiple step medication. The first dose grants the immunity, the second stops the side effects."
"What kind of side effects?"
Elsewhere, the great hero Hebron let out a cry of agony. He lay on the ground, veins throbbing on his beet red skin. Orgoth the Barbarian poked his head inside the tent to check on the screaming hero.
"How're you doing Hebron? Feeling better?"
Hebron struggled to raise his hand, moving it just enough to produce an obscene gesture.
"I'll take that as a no."
He returned outside to Cordelia and her books. She was rifling through an large tomb on exotic diseases, a determined grin on her face. Orgoth recognized that look. She was in her element. He placed a hand on her shoulder, breaking her out of her concentration. She looked up annoyed.
"Are you sure you don't have some kind of painkiller to give him?"
"Not until I know what's wrong with him. A conventional opiate may react badly with whatever substances are flowing through his system."
"Isn't there anything you can do to end his pain?"
Cordelia gave an innocent smile. "Well of course there is!"
"Without killing him." Clarified Orgoth.
"In that case, no."
As Louis walked the castle's dark corridors, he began to contemplate the sheer outlandishness of his current predicament. On the advice of a gargoyle, he was going to see a witch to help him prepare for a meeting with a vampire in order to gain her assistance in pacifying multiple clans of aristocratic demons. This was by far the strangest thing he had ever done, which was quite a statement, all things considered."
"And the worst part?" he thought to himself "I shouldn't even be here! I didn't do anything to deserve this. I didn't kill any kings or save any nations. I was a noncombatant for goodness sake! I am not indebted to Albion, and I certainly don't owe anything to Ierne, so why should I be responsible for their wellbeing?" he sighed, wondering if it were too late to flee like Hebron.
At the end of the corridor Louis found a pair large oak doors. The brass handles were shaped to resemble snarling dragons and etched into the dark wood were ancient runes which glowed with some unknown enchantment. Louis assumed that this was the entrance to the mage tower. As he pulled the handles the doors let out a mighty squeak. The interior was dimly lit, illuminated only by a few faint lanterns, and Louis hesitated before stepping inside. As he entered the room a voice rang out, "Shut that door!"
In the faint light he was able to make out the shape of an elderly woman bent over. Turning his gaze to the ground, he saw several balls of darkness surging around the room. One seemed to notice his presence and charged towards him. Letting out a yelp, Louis slammed the door and dove out of the way. The dark anomaly stopped a few feet away from him and let out a mew. As his eyes adjusted to the darkness, Louis was able to discern a pair of ears, eyes, paws and a nose. It began to dawn on him that he was just frightened by a kitten.
"Sorry about that." said the old woman, rushing towards him and scooping up the black kitten. "They just learned to run a week ago and since then I haven't been able to keep them still. I'd keep them at home, but my husband isn't exactly a cat person." She gently deposited the kitten into a basket and offered her hand. "Hekate's the name. Pleased to meet you."
"Louis" replied the startled young man, tentatively taking the hand and shaking. "So I take it you're the court mage?"
"The one and only!" she said with a youthful exuberance, "Welcome to my workshop!" She threw her arms out as if she were unveiling a work of art.
"It's very nice... I think." replied Louis. "Honestly it's kind of hard to tell, what with it being so dark in here."
"Oh, so it is." said Hekate. She snapped her finger and the hanging lanterns began to grow in intensity, illuminating the entire room. In the newfound light, Louis could see in full detail the features of his host. She looked exactly as old and withered as any proper witch should. Her skin was dark and wrinkled with age, her fingers gnarled and topped with yellowing split nails. Her right eye was bloodshot and her left was covered by a black eyepatch. She was dressed in an odd gold colored sundress, covered in arcane symbols and silhouettes of cats. She wore a scarab shaped amulet around her neck and had a tattoo of a stylized eye on her forehead. Her workshop was just as strange.
From the ceiling hung various herbs, several of which Louis knew to be poisonous. The shelves were lined with hundreds of jars of all shapes and sizes, each containing a substance more bizarre than the last. On the counter top, flasks and beakers bubbled with strangely colored liquids, all without any apparent heat source. Near the wall hung a skeleton of indeterminate species. Most mysterious, however, was the large metal contraption in the center of the room. It was vaguely gourd shaped and stood upon three metal legs. Tubes poked into its copper body, carrying murky liquids in and out. Every few seconds it would gurgle or let out a faint whistling sound. As if sensing his curiosity, Hekate sauntered over to the machine. She fiddled with some out of sight components, and came back with a tall pitcher.
"Aqua vitae?" she asked.
"Never this early."
"Suit yourself." she shrugged, before downing the entire pint. It must have been satisfying, judging by contented sigh she gave out.
"So what is it that I can do for you today?" she sang, looking back up at Louis.
"Well I-"
"Wait!" she said, holding up a finger "You seem familiar. Have we met before?"
"Actually-"
"Oh, I've got it! The coronation! You were there with the new king. One of his followers, I think?"
"I'm his brother." Louis stated crossly.
"Oh goodness, my apologies." she said, putting her hands up placatingly
He sighed. "It's fine. You are neither the first nor the last person to see me as another one of his lackeys."
"Believe me," she chuckled, "I don't see you in any such capacity."
"That's kind of you to say."
"Not kind, simply accurate." she chuckled again, as if she had just made a subtle joke that he wouldn't understand until sometime in the future and then feel foolish for only just then getting.
"That being said, I do sympathize with you situation. It must be hard, being brothers with a figure of such notoriety."
"You get used to it..." he muttered.
"So..." she said, stretching casually. "For what purposes are my talents required?"
"It's a funny story actually; and by funny I mean strange; and by strange I mean possibly the most bizarre task I've ever had to accomplish."
"Do tell." said the witch, cocking an eyebrow.
"Well to start with, Countess Mircalla has invited me to her home."
"How bold."
"And I've decided to accept."
"Bolder still."
"So, I was wondering if you could provide me with some form of protection for the encounter?"
"What kind of protection are we talking about?" asked Hekate, showing no attempt to hide her amusement.
"The kind that will help against something called inthrallment?"
"Oh." said the witch. "Now that is actually a legitimate concern. While Mircalla's too smart to try anything out in the open, inthralling someone in the privacy of her castle is in no way out of character for her." She scratched her chin in contemplation. "Just stay there and make yourself cosy, I'll have what you need in half-a-flash!"
She dived into her cabinets and began sifting through jars and vials, muttering to herself all the while. "We'll need some anti-suggestion supplement, a draught of charm resistance..." She looked up at him, "You're not allergic to garlic. are you?"
"No."
"Good." She returned from the cabinet with an armful of ingredients and a small cauldron. She began adding various liquids into the cauldron, occasionally sprinkling in something dry and withered. Sickly greens and blood reds mixed together, forming a murky brown blend. She didn't even have to stir. She simply waved her hand and the contents of the mixture began to swirl around under their own power. As she worked, Louis stood awkwardly to the side. He looked down at the basket of kittens. A few brave ones were not content to stay in the basket, and were desperately trying to climb their way out. Oddly, whenever one approached the edge of basket, they would suddenly lose their grip and go tumbling back down. It was as if some strange force was keeping them inside.
"Oh, who am I kidding." thought Louis. "It's magic."
He reached down to pet one.
"I wouldn't do that." said Hekate, not even looking up from her cauldron. "Those are not normal cats."
"What do you mean?" asked Louis.
"For one thing, they tend to steal souls." Louis immediately retracted his hand. "Well technically you have to be dead first, but better safe than sorry."
Louis stared down at the kittens. They stared back at him, their tiny eyes glinting. He stepped away and turned his attention to the witch's brew. At this point, the concoction seemed sufficiently mixed. She raised her hands above the cauldron and took a deep breath. Louis could feel something in the air. There was a tingling in the back of his neck, and he was suddenly aware of how quiet the room had become. The lights seemed to dim and a soft glow began to appear the witch's hands. It radiated from her fingers like starlight, and began to sink down into the concoction. It didn't react at first, but after few seconds it began simmer, the brown mixture taking on a yellowish hue, becoming like liquid bronze. There was a bright flash. Louis shielded his eyes, and when he opened them he found that everything had returned to normal. Hekate was nonchalantly pouring the potion into a small vial, before stopping it and holding it out to Louis.
"Drink this prior to your rendezvous. It should protect you from any mind-altering tricks or enchantments the Countess my use. It'll last about 6 hours after ingestion, so you should be safe for the entirety of the evening."
Louis accepted the potion hesitantly. "There aren't any, um... side effects that I should know about are there?"
"None that you should know about." the witch said, her playful tone offsetting the sinisterness of her words. "Say, just out of curiosity, just how badly do you need those glasses?"
"These?" he said, adjusting the spectacles on his nose. "Blind without them."
"Oh." she said. "I was going to suggest that, if you were going to make a habit out of meeting with vampires, you should invest in some mirrored eyewear."
"Thanks for the advice, but I don't plan on this becoming routine. I like to avoid getting into dangerous situations if I can help it."
The witch cackled. "Well you certainly picked the wrong kingdom."
"Heh, 'picked'. That's one way to put it." he brooded silently for a moment, before noticing the look of concern on the old women's face.
"Oh, sorry. I was getting all angsty there for a moment."
"Don't apologize." Said the witch. "How you feel is how you feel. There's no shame in that."
"I suppose not. To be perfectly honest, this is the most pleasant conversation I've had so far."
"Yes, this might not be the friendliest place in the world, but it's certainly the most interesting." There was a loud pop and the copper machine in the middle of the room began letting out smoke. "Case in point." she said, rushing over to the contraption.
"I'll just let you get to that." said Louis, stepping out of the room. "Thanks for the help and all."
She smiled, "Any time, dearie."
Louis returned to the study finding Terence at the desk, as usual.
"I've got the potion." said Louis
"Good for you." replied Terence behind his stack of papers.
"Uh, I'm ready for the dinner... I think."
"Congratulations."
Louis glanced around, not sure of what to say. "So... Can I go now?"
Terence pushed the papers away and looked him dead in the eye.
"Are you asking for advice, or permission?"
"Um, one or the other?"
"I shall only state this once. You give the orders, and I follow them. That is how this works. You are the boss, the executive, the one in charge. You may seek out others for their knowledge or guidance, but that is it. If you submit to another's rule, you surrender your autonomy. and we are all as good as dead. I advise you to remember that."
He said all this without anger, or harshness, or passion; but with such subtle intensity that Louis had to remind himself to breathe. Louis wanted to respond, but words failed him. Perhaps some things were better left unsaid. He left the room and made his way to the stables.
The stables were old and foul smelling. Large gaps in the walls provided light and fresh air, but an eerie presence lingered still. Louis passed empty stalls far to large to hold horses and couldn't help but wonder what kind of fearsome beasts once dwelt there. As he walked the length of the pens, he heard voices. It sounded like a conversation. Creeping closer, he spied two lesser demons sitting behind some crates. They appeared to be in the middle of an intense discussion.
"Nah nah, it's not the principle I'm objectin' ter, it's the methodology. Happiness is an amorphous immaterial concept. It can't be quantified an' used in sum sorta moral 'rithmatic."
"Oh no? If ya're given two options, ya would naturally determine that one option would cause ya more 'appiness than the other. And if ya ranked a buncha options based on whether they caused greater or less 'appiness, than ya could eventually create a scale. And usin' that scale as a basis, ya could create a system of units ter measure 'appiness."
"But the point of units is that they only measure physical things. Ya can see an inch an' hold a pound, but ya can't observe happiness, only its effects."
"Could the same thing not be said abaht time? We never observe time, we just observe its effects on things. One could even argue that time doesn't exist, only clocks exist. Yet we still depend on 'ours and minutes ter get us through the day. Surely if time can be measured and quantified, then the same can be done wif 'appiness."
"Alright, so suppose that ya do develop a system for measurin' happiness, an' ya can just magically tell how many units of happiness an action will result in. How would ya go about maximizin' it?"
"I would look at me options and whatever one caused the most amount of 'appiness is the one I would choose. Wot don't ya get?"
"But how would ya do it?
"I jus' told ya 'ow."
"No, like... For example, would ya be goin' for total or average happiness?"
"What's the difference?"
"Well let's assume your goin' wif total. Suppose there was someone who got a hundred times the amount of happiness from any conceivable good or luxury. This person could go 'round takin' everyone's stuff, an' it would be morally permissible 'cause he would get more happiness out of it. In fact, folks would have a moral obligation ter give this bloke their stuff, 'cause doin' so would increase the total happiness."
"Okay, ya 'ave a point there. But wot abaht average? Why can't what's right be defined as whatever maximizes average 'appiness?"
"Well, if that were the case, anything the would increase average happiness would be seen as good. This includes killin' people 'oo 're unhappy."
"Ha do ya make that leap?"
"Look at it this way. In any statistical group there will be outliers, those 'oo brin' the average up or drive it down. If the really unhappy people were taken out of the equation, the average happiness would goin' up."
"But that's assumin' ya can just take them out of the equation. Life is infinitely valuable, so the very act of killin' them would be the greatest cause of unhappiness. just 'cause they're dead, doesn't mean their 'appiness doesn't matter."
"Okay, perhaps that's a bad example. But wot about minority vs majority. Wot if ya 'ad a room full of sadists who all would gain happiness from one person bein' in pain. Would it be morally permissible ter harm one person 'cause it created more happiness for the group?"
"Well ya just changed the equation there. Ya introduced sufferin', which is much different from lack of 'appiness. If anything, endin' pain should be given priority over creatin' 'appiness. It might not be right ter cause one person ter suffer just for the sake of 'appiness, but no one would object ter causin' someone a lil' pain if it alleviated the average sufferin' of the group."
"I wouldn't say no one. Universality principle an' all."
"You say that again and oi'l rip your bleedin' tong out."
"Um, excuse me." said Louis. The demons looked up in surprise and immediate jumped to formation, their hands up in salute."
"I beg your pardon sir, we didn't hear you come in." said the shorter demon.
"I hope I'm not interrupting anything."
"Nothing at all." said the taller demon. "Certainly nothing iconoclastic." The shorter demon glared at its companion.
"I don't know what that means, so I'll take your word for it." said Louis. "But more importantly, do either of you know how to get to Countess Mircalla's residence?
The two demons glanced at each other. "Well, yes. We do, Sir." said one.
"But why would you want to?" said the other.
"What do you mean?" asked Louis
"No one is allowed inside the Countess's castle."
"And those that sneak in tend not to sneak out."
"As ominous as that sounds," said Louis, "I was invited."
"Oh. That's completely different then."
"We shall ready the carriage."
The sun was beginning to set. Louis stared out the carriage window, taking in the scenery. The surrounding trees cast long shadows which reached out like black spidery arms to grasp the carriage. The two demons were up front, one navigating and one steering a pair of waterhorses.
"How much longer?" asked Louis, watching the sky darken.
"We should be almost there." said the shorter demon, examining the map.
Louis looked further down the road. The wood stretched on, as far as the eye could see.
"Are you sure?"
"Fairly sure." the demon said, not looking up from the map. "It should be right here on the edge of Lake Lascaigh."
Louis frowned. "Can I see that for a second?"
"Of course." said the demon, climbing into carriage. It ran its finger across the map, outlining their route. "First we headed north toward Runehill, then we turned eastward and passed through Gortkey."
"Isn't Runehill to the South?" asked the taller demon.
"No, it's to the North."
"I'm pretty sure it's in the South."
"Not according to this."
The taller demon climbed back and examined the map. "Huh, you're right. Runehill is to the North."
"I told you so."
"I could have sworn..."
"No need to swear, just listen when I say something."
"Oh I see, I was thinking of Rumhell. Honest mistake."
"Wait..." said Louis. "If you're here and you're here, then who's driving the-"
*SPLASH*
They crashed into a lake.
Louis was thrown against the side of the cart. He thought he heard a crack. Before he had time to react, the carriage began filling with water. Almost instinctively, he dove out the window into the cold surface of the lake. He thrashed around in the water, desperate to keep his head above the surface, until his foot hit something. It was the ground. He realized sheepishly that he was still in the shallow end of the lake, the water only going up to his chest. Getting his bearings, he gratefully found that he was uninjured. He heard a noise and turned to see that the horses had gotten free from their harnesses. Neighing joyfully, they swam around in the lake, splashing water here and there.
"Kelpies..." muttered one of the demons disdainfully. Louis turned to see the two of them standing calmly near the carriage, seemingly unaffected by the crash.
"It'll be difficult getting them back on the cart."
"Think we'll need them to pull it out of the lake?"
"No, I don't think so. Water makes things easier to transport, doesn't it?"
"That's only when they're floating on water. I'm pretty sure its actually harder to move something that's submerged."
"But water makes things float."
"Only when they're lighter than water."
"What about boats? They're much heavier than water and they still float."
"Boats are hollow. They're filled with air which offsets the heavier elements like metal and stone."
"Isn't the carriage hollow?"
"It was hollow, before it filled with water. The water goes in through the openings and fills up the space that the air occupied. It's the same principle that makes ships sink when they spring a leak."
Louis waded over to them. "Is everything alright?"
The demons turned their attention to him. "No need to worry, Your Highness. We'll have this all fixed up by the end of the night. Is that alright?"
"Not really." said Louis. "How am I supposed to get to Mircalla's castle now?"
"By walking about 50 feet?" suggested the taller demon.
"Eh?"
The demon pointed. Louis turned around to see a small castle sitting at the edge of the Lake.
"Oh..."
Louis dragged himself out of the water and trudged up the path to the castle's entrance. His clothes stuck to him uncomfortably, and the cool evening breeze made him shiver. The castle that stood before him was small, but sturdy looking. It was two stories tall, as long as it was wide, with a turret at each corner. The exterior was brown and grey stone, but it had a clean, polished look to it. Louis leaned against the wall and shook his legs, trying to get the excess water out of his pants. When he was certain that his clothes were no longer dripping, he knocked on the door. Almost immediately, a young woman answered. She was slender and delicate looking, with dark hair and a fair complexion. She looked him over curiously.
"Hello?" she said, a note of uncertainty in her soft velvety voice. "Can I help you?"
Louis was caught off guard. He wasn't sure who or what he expected to greet him when he arrived at Mircalla's lair, but it certainly wasn't someone like this.
"Hello, my name is Louis Morgenstern." he said. "The Countess invited me."
"Ah," she smiled, "we've been expecting you. Please, come in."
She led him through the halls of the castle, smiling the whole time.
"I can't tell you how thrilled I was to hear you were coming." she said gaily. "We so rarely have company."
"Yes, I heard the Countess was rather private."
"It comes with the territory, I suppose. All that cutthroat politicking and intrigue, it's best not to reveal any vulnerabilities."
They entered a small drawing room. It was very well furnished. Two couches sat opposite one another, a short glass table in between. Colorful vases of flowers rested upon polished wooden stands. A large circular carpet lay on the hardwood floors, depicting mesmerizing patterns of red and green. On the wall was a large painting depicting a woman reclining on a chair, a large snake biting at her chest. Louis shook his head. He just didn't get modern art.
"Feel free to take a seat. I'll go see if Mircalla is awake."
"Awake?"
"She tends to be a late sleeper. A real creature of the night, if you catch my meaning." She giggled as she left the room. Settling down into one of the couches, Louis took the time to administer the potion Hecate had given him. He fished inside his jacket pocket for the vial. When he wrapped his hands around it he stopped. His eyes widened.
"Oh no..." he breathed. Carefully, he lifted the vial out of his pocket and up to his face. He cursed. There was a series of large cracks in the glass, spreading like a spider web from the base to the top. There were only a few stray drops left, tiny beads of bronze clinging to the edge of the glass. Louis recalled the crash, the feeling of him slamming against the wall of the carriage. With all the water, he must not have noticed the potion spilling out. He glanced towards the entrance, wondering if it was too late to get out; to leave and pretend he was never here. There was the sound of footsteps. He hurriedly lapped up the few remaining droplets of potion before stowing the bottle in his pocket.
"Better than nothing." he thought.
The young woman returned.
"Mircalla will be ready shortly." She said. "Can I offer you anything to drink? Milk? Tea? Blood? Rose water?"
"No, I'm good."
"Okay." she said, sitting down across from him. "I'll just keep you company then. My name is Laura, by the way."
"Louis" he replied. "Though, I suppose you already knew that."
She smiled and nodded.
"So..." Louis glanced around, trying to find some topic of conversation. "This castle is very nice. Very cozy looking"
"Thank you!" beamed Laura. "I picked it out myself, way back when. We don't have any servants, so I thought a smaller place would be easier to maintain."
"Huh. So you and the countess... Are you her sister?"
"What? Oh, heavens no." She chuckled. "I'm her wife."
He felt his eyebrows rise. "Oh." he said. "I hadn't realized that Mircalla was uh... married."
Laura gave a slight shrugged. "Yes, she prefers to keep her home life and her work life separate. To avoid complications, you understand."
"Right." replied Louis, absentmindedly. This day was just deviating farther and farther from his expectations. As he struggled to think of a proper response, Louis noticed something moving in the corner of his eye. He turned his head and saw a large black cat enter the room. It wasn't anything like the Hekate's basket of kittens. It's coat was sleek and lustrous, like silk. It walked in a regal manner, its long legs moving gracefully and in sync.
"Well, hello there." said Louis, leaning forward. "Aren't you beautiful."
Laura giggled. "I'm sure she's happy to hear you say that."
"What's her name, if you don't mind my asking?"
"Mircalla."
As if on cue, the cat leaped behind the couch Laura was sitting on. There was a shifting sound, like cloth folding and unfolding, as the Countess rose from behind the couch. She stretched briefly then leaned over the couch, draping her arms around Laura's neck.
"Good evening, Darling." she purred. "Are you keeping our guest comfortable?"
Laura nodded, a contented smile on her face. The Countess looked up to face Louis.
"I'm so glad you accepted my invitation. We have much to discuss."