Of Plots and Mischief

Chapter 2: Rumours and politics

Phyllon was in a strange mood all day afterwards, unable to keep his mind over the strange incident that occurred earlier that day. He feared that it was a foreshadowing of something worse to come. It reminded him of the stories his grandfather told him how a single stone on the road could lead to the start of a revolution. Unfortunately, the only revolution the incident was likely to cause was in his mind, not one that he would like to see happen. He was already pulled into two directions by his late mother's aristocratic heritage and his father's history as a foreign-born orphan trader who had built one of the strongest mercantile empires of the region. He had a hard time fitting into either, and he feared what was coming would force him to choose a side.

Captain Drwyn Krvath had noticed his mood when he met with him and was slightly subdued when he reported the success of his efforts. They went through the contracts together before Phyllon signed it and pressed it with his seal. He was glad for that one piece of good news and realised that they needed to go to file for their departure with the portsmaster. He squeezed his eyes as he realised that it was unavoidable.
"What is wrong?" Captain Drwyn Krvath had been with his father for a long time, and Phyllon knew he could trust him. He related what he had observed earlier that day and shared his concerns with the more experienced man, hoping that he would be able to help him clear his mind.

"Do you think I am overthinking it?" Phyllon looked at him hopefully.

The captain did not immediately answer, giving the question the thought that it deserved. "This young man, you recognised him. Who was he?"

Phyllon sighed. "It was the youngest prince. I saw him briefly from a distance when I was at college. He was a few years my junior, so we never really met." He tried to recall what he could of the prince. His name, for some reason, was something he had difficulty remembering. Something with a k, Koruka, Karrie, no - Karriv. Karriv Harqor.

Captain Drwyn stared at him at that. "I think there you have your answer."

Phyllon was afraid of that. "What do you think about the Livijovian?"

"I haven't been to court like you, but I heard rumours," Captain Drwyn said, leaning forward, lowering his voice. "You know the young prince got recently betrothed to a young Livijovian royal last year when he fell in love during a diplomatic visit. Given your description, I suspect that was her uncle, a decorated general, recently retired, now the new Livijovian ambassador."

That explained quite a bit, Phyllon thought to himself, though it did create more questions in itself. In any case, it was out of his control. He decided not to worry over it too much, though it would not hurt to be better informed over the situation. He sighed. His grandfather would be happy to hear from him and even happier to learn of this new intrigue. He shrugged. There was no avoiding it, so he supposed he might as well reach out to him.

Later that night, Phyllon sat comfortably on his bed in his cabin onboard the Pallainne, staring reluctantly at the communication stone. Things had not gone smoothly the last few months he spent in the capital, and while he loved and respected his grandfather, he found it difficult to forgive him for some of the things that happened. Harqorian social structure and politics being what it was, it may have helped explain it . The Sahora himself was an anomaly in the nobility, something outside the normal hierarchy, with mysterious power and influence both within and outside the region. That did not mean the other nobility liked it, which might have explained the incident that had caused Phyllon to turn away from the court.

It was not like waiting would change anything, Phyllon thought as he forced himself to start the connection to his grandfather. He had barely initiated it when he heard his grandfather's comforting voice over the connection. "Phyllon, my boy, are you alright? I have not heard from you for so long."