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The Bell Tolls for Me 90: Taming a Snake
🕑 Added 2025-10-05 01:00:36 +0000 UTCIsabella sat quietly with her cousin, Bernadetta, as various others filtered into the room in which she was being kept captive. All of them looked at Bernadetta with hostile expressions of various degrees. Valerio looked like he wanted to put an end to her right away while Arthur looked at her with contempt and grudging respect. Felix and his twin daughters all regarded Bernadetta with considerable caution.
“Prince Sylvain isn’t joining you?” Bernadetta asked.
“What’s it to you?” Valerio answered at once.
Bernadetta shrugged. “I simply assumed that such a pivotal part of the plan would be personally involved. He is to be king, no? Yet… it matters not.”
“I want to stay straight off that I’m opposed to involving you in anything we do.” Felix stared at Bernadetta. “You cannot tame a snake.”
“Perhaps because reptiles lack the intelligence.” Bernadetta tilted her head. “Considering that I’m being prevailed upon for just that, I think we can safely assume that’s not the case. I am smart enough to be tamed, archduke.”
“Smart enough to act tamed,” he countered.
Isabella rose to her feet. “This is the plan that Bernadetta and I developed jointly. She has been involved in nothing but the contribution of ideas and refinement of our plans.” She looked between all those that were present and concluded, “She won’t be involved in the execution of anything. The only thing that’ll see her released from this place is a breach from the outside, and at that point I suppose we would have much larger concerns.”
Isabella looked between all of her confidants as they slowly adjusted to what was coming. Then, she looked back at Bernadetta, giving her a nod.
“You may start,” Isabella instructed.
“Very well.” Bernadetta gathered her thoughts, then cleared her throat. “We’re in one of the best possible positions that we could be in to strike at Edgar. But that’s like saying that we’re in the best possible position to demolish a mountain. It remains a monumental task. However, we have many things working in our favor.
“The first of them is unrest in both the elite and the plebeian classes.” Bernadetta retrieved two items to symbolize what she was talking about—a gold ring and a bronze band. “The common people contend with the religious divisions brought by Alistair of Veymont, and furthermore can be pushed to perceive King Edgar as undoing what Isabella did in her royal progress. The execution of the nobility at the hands of Edgar, meanwhile, regardless of the justification that he produced, will have created mass dissent among the elites that remain. Despite what you may have heard, popular uprisings are most often led by elites.”
“We don’t want an uprising at all,” Allison said.
“Of course not. But noncompliance is just as effective a cudgel as anything else. The fewer allies that Edgar has, the less likely he’ll be able to mount an effective resistance. All of this was groundwork that you had already laid, prudently. Isabella will merely give it the push it needs.”
“Push?” Abigail repeated.
***
As Isabella walked out onto the balcony of the Balat family’s city palace, steeling herself once more for public appearances, she felt two new presences by her side. Abigail and Allison both took her arm. As the cold, chilly air fell upon her face, she could hardly feel it with the warmth of both radiating at her side. She wore a grandiose white dress lent to her by the archduke—one worn by his late wife, he informed her. His wife had been well-loved by the people. Isabella came to the balcony, where a gathering awaited her.
The crowd below the balcony stood in a silence so heavy it might have been mistaken for indifference, yet beneath their fur-lined cloaks and weathered faces Isabella saw a deep and solemn reverence. These were northerners accustomed to long winters and longer griefs. No cheer broke from them, no gesture of fervor or frenzy. There was only the slow, deliberate dipping of heads. To outsiders it might have seemed a cold reception, but among the northern folk, such silence was the truest form of devotion—a wordless acknowledgment of fealty.
Archduke Felix had given a speech before her arrival, and when she stepped up to join him, he placed a hand on her shoulder encouragingly. No speech was needed. Her presence alone, unbowed and unbroken, would be shock enough to the world.
“Provide a welcome to Princess Regent Isabella of Dovhain… my daughter’s beloved sister-in-law!” Felix commanded with a shout.
The people, moments before silent, came alive with shouts and drumming noises—pounding their chests, stomping their feet. It was enough to shake the balcony they stood upon, Isabella felt. There was a loyalty these people felt toward House Balat—a loyalty that the southern nobility had long forgotten.
But Isabella would never forget it.
***
Bernadetta walked around to produce another item. A crystal ball, and a small toy knight. “This push will be the beginning of our efforts to diminish Edgar’s allies.”
Isabella walked over to Arthur. “You’ve talked a great deal about the paranoia that King Edgar has toward anyone in his company. He’s incredibly quick to discard people. We can take advantage of that.”
Bernadetta placed her palm on top of the crystal ball. “The Archwizard.”
Arthur stared at the ball as he walked closer. “That man is the king’s right hand. He’s the one through which almost everything goes through. The king commands, and the Archwizard performs. He’s the most loyal of the king’s servants, and Edgar has kept him around this long.”
Isabella smiled. “Do you understand what it means if I’m revealed to be alive, in the eyes of King Edgar?”
***
Princess Regent Isabella of Dovhain Lives!
King Edgar’s eyes scanned the headline of the pamphlet that had been printed and spread throughout the whole of his kingdom. It recorded a public appearance that Isabella had given in the north. Archduke Felix had introduced her with a title that fell just short of treason: Princess Regent. It was almost a direct refutation of his accession of king. His eyes wandered to the person standing before him.
“Did your agents verify her presence personally?” the king asked of his Archwizard.
The Archwizard nodded gravely. “Not only that… they allowed my familiar to watch from above, Your Majesty. It was Isabella, without a shadow of a doubt. The mark binding her soul to yours persists.”
King Edgar tossed aside the pamphlet and stormed toward the Archwizard, seizing the old man by the throat. “Two decades you looked into this disease. Over twenty years, I gave you unparalleled access, and you’re telling me some daughter of mine not a third my age cures it in a matter of weeks?”
The Archwizard sputtered, but didn’t resist the hand seizing his throat. It was only when his legs started failing him that the king released his grip and stepped away, clearly furious.
***
“Do you have any idea the level of risk that Isabella would be shouldering, exposing herself?” Arthur demanded. “The fact that Edgar doesn’t know where she is remains the majority of our advantage.”
“I think you’re overestimating Edgar,” Bernadetta said plainly. “Not that I blame you, but overestimation is as severe a fault as underestimation. You must consider things from his point of view. He cannot muster a grand army after how he crippled the nobility—he can gather only a core of loyal men. Do you expect him to head here, in the heart of the archduke’s power, with a small retinue of men? Those would be the ideal circumstances by which we might catch him alive.”
Isabella came to stand by Bernadetta’s side. “Not to mention the fact that Edgar has no idea just what sort of ability that I’ve manifested. Would he risk open confrontation when he might be stumbling right into a trap, bestowed by my ability? In his eyes… he very well could be fighting someone with an identical ability to his own.”
The room went quiet. Arthur walked to the sole window in Bernadetta’s room and looked out.
“Even if this development does genuinely enrage the king as much as you suspect it will, that’s a far cry from getting him to discard the Archwizard entirely,” Arthur said, then looked back. “The king, for all his faults, is wise enough to distinguish incompetence from malevolence. He’s cautious of permanence.”
Bernadetta crossed her arms. “The Archwizard is an egomaniac who claims credit for inventions that aren’t his own. Much of his ‘achievements’ were things that my former patrons bestowed upon me. If we propagate spells that the Archwizard is supposed to have invented and monopolized… he’ll be revealed as fraudulent. Even if the Archwizard’s personal loyalty isn’t suspect, if he’s being manipulated from behind the scenes, do you think the ever-paranoid king will preserve his life?”
“The king is a spellcaster himself,” Arthur said, following her train of thought. “He can understand firsthand anything that we reveal. In my last life, the Archwizard taught me a great many of the spells that he’s learned—some of them haven’t even been created yet. We could make him look like a rote copier in the eyes of the king,” he said with rising vigor.
Bernadetta pointed at him. “As far as I’ve seen, no one near the king is capable of replacing the Archwizard. Ideally he’ll be killed, but even a simple diminishing of his authority would be a tremendous blow to Edgar’s cabinet. The only ones remaining at his side would be his veteran holy paladins. On that front…” she raised her brows at Arthur. “You know the most about his guards.”
“Those holy paladins are the only ones that Edgar trusts without restriction. These are men that’ve served him twenty years faithfully, and whose loyalty he’s tested with the most heinous machinations the mind can conjure,” Arthur said hatefully.
“Yet what might make him abandon them?” Isabella asked.
Arthur shook his head. “In my mind? Nothing, save a better alternative—and given the caliber of these men, it doesn’t exist.”
Bernadetta looked at him. “I’d like to ask some questions about these men, specifically. But for now… that’s as solid an opening as we could concoct. Weaving a net to strangle Edgar is a grandiose task, but his arrogance, coupled with the considerable groundwork laid, provides the best opportunity we’re likely to get.”
Isabella looked between her advisors, gauging their reaction. It seemed a humble start, yet it was bound to escalate into a genuine confrontation between her side and Edgar’s.
“We’ll confer,” Isabella said simply.
***
Valerio sat at Isabella’s bedside. Night had fallen. They were sharing a chamber, now. Once the idea of that made Isabella uncomfortable, but now it was anything but.
“You see her gambit, don’t you?” Valerio asked, putting his hand on her arm.
Isabella laid on the bed, staring up at its ceiling. “I see the obvious one.” She looked over. “She wants to attract the attention of those Eagaliteh members—the sages—that patronized her once before. She believes that attracting their attention might be her way to get out of here. They’d definitely take notice if we started to spread magics of their creation to the wider public.”
Valerio fell on the bed hard enough to make Isabella bounce once. He rested his head just beside hers. “Yet you followed her plan. You revealed yourself to the public.”
“I did,” Isabella confirmed, then looked over at him. “Because I have an information advantage over Bernadetta, too. She doesn’t know about Balat.”
Valerio’s silverish white eyes narrowed. “Isabella…”
“I’ve always wondered what might happen if you sell your soul to two devils,” she said. “Would they have a fight over it? Indeed… what if both devils kill each other trying to claim my soul? Would I simply be free?” She looked over, a smile on her face. “It makes you think.”
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Comments
WarStrider72
Jon Constantine: You just have a long line of debtors waiting on your soul
WarStrider72
Thanks for the chapter!
