The royal hunt was less a pursuit of game and more a theatrical display of power. The King and Queen, surrounded by their sycophants, rode with an arrogant pomp through a forest that felt more like a manicured garden than a wilderness. Damon, astride a powerful Vexin warhorse, felt his blood simmer with a quiet rage. He was a hunter by nature, and this farce was an insult to the art.
As Isolde had predicted, the Queen made her move. She arranged a "chance" encounter with Damon, separating him from the main party and placing him in the company of Lord Varen, the pompous courtier, and a few of his more vocal critics. The trap was obvious: provoke Damon into a display of brutish anger, confirming the rumors she had spread.
"So, Lord Vexin," Lord Varen said with a sneer, "we were all quite surprised by your proposal regarding the northern taxes. A bit of a populist move, wouldn't you say? Almost as if you were trying to buy the loyalty of the rabble with the King's own coin."
Damon's jaw tightened, his hand instinctively moving toward his sword hilt. This was the moment they had prepared for. He looked at the courtier, his eyes as cold as a northern winter. "I was not buying loyalty, Lord Varen. I was investing in the King's future. A loyal, prosperous North is a stronger North. My men would rather fight for their King than fight for a tax they believe to be unjust."
Before Varen could respond, Isolde rode up, her voice clear and bright. "My husband speaks the truth, my Lords. He and I believe that true power lies not in a full treasury, but in a united kingdom. We presented our proposal to the King, and he listened with great interest. The North will be rebuilt, its people will be loyal to the crown, and the kingdom will be stronger for it."
The courtiers looked from Damon's grim, honest face to Isolde's serene, confident one. She had not only defended Damon but had also framed their proposal as a show of fealty to the King, a move that made them seem clever and loyal, not rebellious. The trap had backfired.
A short while later, they encountered King Theron, who was furious but contained. He had heard of their conversation and of Isolde's words. He was in a clearing, surrounded by a few of his personal guards and a group of nobles.
"Lord Vexin," the King said, his voice dripping with condescension. "I hear you have found a new interest in the King's tax policies. Tell me, what does a simple warrior know of statecraft and finance?"
Damon knew this was the final test. He dismounted his horse and knelt before the King, a gesture of submission that stunned the court. "Your Majesty," he said, his voice a humble, steady rumble. "I know nothing of finance. My wife, however, knows a great deal. My proposal was her idea, born from her love for her kingdom and her loyalty to her brother. I am but her shield, Your Majesty, wielded to enact her wisdom."
The words were a masterpiece of double meaning. He was saying he was her loyal pawn, but he was also publicly declaring that Isolde, a princess of the royal house, was a brilliant political strategist. King Theron was forced into a corner. To deny Isolde's wisdom would be an insult to the royal family. To accept it would be to admit that a woman he had cast off was more clever than he was.
He simply waved a dismissive hand. "Rise, Lord Vexin. You have made your point. Perhaps we shall discuss your wife's… ideas… at a later date."
Isolde, standing by Damon's side, met the Queen's cold, furious gaze with a small, private smile. They had won this battle. They had shown the court that they were a united front, that they were loyal to the kingdom, and that they were far more clever than their enemies had ever imagined.
They returned to their chambers that evening, their small triumph a quiet joy between them. They had outmaneuvered the Queen and the King in their own court. They were a team, a partnership of sword and wit. The war of words was over, and they had won the first campaign. Little did they know that the King had already decided to change the game entirely.