Blake Saxe-Coburg-Gotha Part 2: The Carriage

Part 2

 

Riding in the coach, with Quenby letting loose all the latest gossip opposite her, Blake took the opportunity to look out of the window and view her city under a full moon. Everything seemed so beautiful at night: the serene parks, the grand old railways, the Gothic Churches and the modern buildings too. It was a wonder how it all became so altered during the day, when the people filled the spaces. Nevertheless, London had indeed become a rather unpleasant spot as of late, with food shortages driving some of the populace; what her father; the King, publicly described as uncouth renegades, to start the fiercest riots in the southern boroughs. In response to the Monarch's contempt filled speech, the individual bands of ruffians had united under the title he had given them, shortening it to The Renegades, they had continued to strew disorder on an even more organised basis ever since.

 

'Blake? Blake you aren't listening' the Lady complained, sitting next to her chum.

'Hmm? Sorry Quen, miles away, what was it you were saying?' she responded, closing the window blinds.

'Well, there's a rumour going around, and it's just a rumour so don't have me beheaded if it proves to be false, but there is a rumour that Lord Silver is going to be at the ball tonight' she whispered in a conspiratorial tone.

Blake's expression did not alter 'Is he a gentleman of some import?'

Quenby flung herself back in disparity, suggesting he was. 'I pray for you sometimes Blake, I really do. How would you handle your social circle without me around to tell you who is who?'

'I'd make them wear name tags.'

Her friend winced 'God help us all, in that case I shall stay by your side for all eternity.'

'You tease me unjustly, you know I have no interest in such things.'

'But you have an interest in politics.'

'So?'

'The royal ballroom is only one good word away from the house of lords. To master that realm of boredom you must first throw yourself into the realm of gaiety.'

'Oh pish.' Blake dismissed.

'Very well, but don't blame me when your ousted from the palace by schemer's who's names you are unfamiliar with...'

The Crown Princess sighed 'So who is this Lord Silver then?'

Quenby leaned in 'Only the most dashing, charming, intellectual and mysterious figure you could ever dream of. It is said he never takes off his masquerade mask-'

'Rake.' she said dryly.

'Blake!'

'I've heard mother tell of that sort a thousand times before, the tale always end in and I never saw the wicked rake again.'

'You would listen to your mother on an issue such as that?'

'Not usually, but the newspapers fight her corner too.'

'Oh you are infuriating, why is it you must find fault in everyone? You haven't even met the man and you're putting him in with the devil's legion.'

'I don't need to meet him, I know of the type all ready: he climbs the social ladder by charming noble girls out of their dresses, only to marry and then abandon them, taking all their father's wealth with him. Why do you think this chap always wears a mask? Along with a new name I'll bet it's his strategy to avoid detection from those he has wronged. I refuse to associate with such a manipulator.'

'Right, that's it. I've had enough of your cynicism being the royal standard. I'm launching a coup detat right now' Qunby decided, landing her hands on Blake's thighs and tickling her to the point of laughter.

'Stop it ahaha, you traitor haha!' she cried, failing to escape in the confined space of the carriage.

'Not until you agree to talk with Lord Silver.'

'Never.' Blake giggled, tears running from her eyes.

'Then I shall continue the takeover.'

 

Suddenly a impact on the carriage side caught their attention, sounding oddly like the breaking of glass. Recovering from her forced joviality, the Crown Princess lifted with window blinds as the carriage and its escorts came to a halt. The window, though unharmed, was now splattered with a red liquid, opening the door to investigate: Blake found that the culprit was no where to be found. Trotting up to her position on his horse as his knights scoured the area, Sir Union asked if the young ladies were all right.

'We're fine thank you, Jack' Blake answered, noting there was indeed glass on the floor.

'Some oik must have thrown a bottle of ketchup,' Qunby guessed, popping her head out 'did anyone see who did it? Driver?'

'I'm afraid not my lady' he answered as he soothed the startled carriage horses.

'How inconsiderate.' Blake huffed as Sir Union examined the red liquid, seeing this, she looked to it too; soon finding it had none of the watery residue of ketchup, debunking Quen's theory, but equally it possessed a smell too biological for paint. Adding to this: the concerned expression her guardian knight was giving and she arrived at the correct conclusion.

'Why would someone throw a bottle of blood at us?' she inquired.

'Is it blood?' Lady Windsor asked, a little taken aback.

'It looks to be, have you any clue Jack?'

He shrugged 'Were we in a less established part of town I'd suspect some drunkard did it, you never can guess the reasoning with that lot, but here under the Palace's shadow...'

Blake looked around discreetly 'You don't think it was the Renegades do you?'

At this he locked his jaw, but she carried on regardless 'It does match their style, painting the towns red after a riot and all. But this seems terribly specific for them.'

'In any case, we'll have to contact the police in the morning. Don't worry princess, we'll find them, whoever they are.' he promised, a smile wrinkling his veteran face.

'Thank you Jack, though don't be too hard on them when you do. I know how times are rough for the lower classes.'

Quenby scrunched up her face with a sound not dissimilar to the hiss of a snake 'Pay no heed to her merciful disposition Sir Union, that dreg's actions have caused us to become late for the ball, and not fashionably late at that. Give him to the British Heart Foundation and have them suck all the blood out from his veins. That'll school him to throw it about.'

The knight chuckled 'Very good my lady.'

 

The carriage having been cleaned and the door closed, the driver and the knights rode on to the ball, meanwhile Blake became embroiled in thought. For whoever would do such a thing if not the Renegades? It would have to be someone of high standing, being in the Palace's shadow.

Quickly coming upon a thesis, the Crown Princess turned to her best friend.

'Don't say it.' Quenby warned, knowing what the princess was about to suggest.

'It was probably Lord Silver.'

'Oh dear...' the lady put her head in her palms.

'It's exactly the sort of thing an ambitious rake would do, assault the carriage of the maiden he's after, then reveal later in the night that he was responsible. Possibly with some dreadful line like Such is my devotion to you. While others merely conjure sweet nothings I would give my very blood to get your attention. You see Quen? I have it all figured out.'

Quenby placed her hands together with her eyes shut 'Dear lord, I do beseech you to revoke the divine right of monarchs upon the crowning day of the current royal heir, as she would most certainly deport all the handsome young lords in court for fear of any potential romance dirtying her undergarments.'

'You're funny Quen, you're a funny girl.' she mused, more irked than amused.

'I do try.'

'So funny I'm going to gift you the role of court jester for the next five seasons.' Blake stated in a quiet and quick tone, starting the repartee.

'Splendid, and when you die they shall title you Blake the ouster of reason' Quenby responded with equal sharpness.

'Oh? I thought you'd like having balls jangling in your face all day.'

'Well as the light to your dark I'll have to reverse my nature from that of a spinster.'

'I'm sure you'll soon fill the void I leave.'

'Perhaps Lord Silver will assist me.'

'Before in dual part walking you down the aisle and leading you up the garden path.'

'A outdoor wedding? How lovely, I shall be sure to invite you and your legion of cats.'

'If you treasure the outdoors so, you'll be thrilled come your one year anniversary when you have to live there.'

'A homeless jester? Perhaps I will perform tricks for food.'

'Or turn them for cash.'

'While you pet pussy in the sure-to-be lonely palace, I wonder if passers by should think it haunted for all the feline howling. An investigator would suspect a ghost seeing how white you were.'

'Just as a voyeur might upon viewing you after a hard night's work.'

'They say sin is it's own reward.'

'I'm sure the thirty pieces of silver don't hurt.'

'The first one would, and I thought you had no interest in the lord.'

'As much interest as an exterminator has for his lively hood.'

'You would exterminate the lord almighty?'

'I would exterminate Lord Silver.'

'Though it would seem your mind puts the latter before the former.'

'Problems often override assets.'

'And which will you be? The problem or the asset?'

'I shall be the Queen of the British Empire.'

'The problem then, shall I prepare a whip?'

'Better yet climb outside and get the driver's, I shall take great pains to show you it's motion.'

'A driver without a whip? However will he spur the stallions on? For the weight of the royal head is so heavy.'

'I shall hire my streetwise fool to the task, I'm sure she'll have had a lot of practice.'

'And so the princess will arrive at the ball with whip her hand and a crown of ice on her head.'

'Mayhap I shall challenge the gentleman to break it without a compliment addressing my physicality.'

'You would be an unwatered flower?'

'You mistake water for sugar, which is not vital in the least.'

'On the contrary I believe it increases one's vitality, for what flower wishes to be ignored?'

'We are not flowers.'

'To be sure, we are flowers just as men are bees. It is widely agreed upon by myself and the rest of the civilised world.'

'Then you and the rest of the civilised world need spectacles.'

Quenby turned to her friend 'Then what are we, if not flowers?'

Blake looked the lady's way 'Lionesses who have been robbed of their teeth.'