Of Kings and Pawns

Chapter 31 - The Last Days of Peace

Gertha Bavar stood before the mirror, smoothing out the folds of her gown, her hands trembling slightly. Today was her big day... the day she had been preparing for. As Otto Eigermann's cupbearer, she had earned a title every girl her age dreamed of. Her reflection stared back at her, wide-eyed and anxious, as she wondered if she looked pleasant enough. It was an honor to serve Otto, and she wanted to be perfect for the role, even if it felt trivial compared to the weight of the decisions being made around her.

She was in Prossenberg, the heart of Otto's growing power, surrounded by the lords and ladies of the central kingdoms. But beneath the grandeur of the castle's stone walls, an unspoken truth simmered: this was likely the last week of peace. Otto's troops were already massing outside, his generals restless for war. The atmosphere was tense, and Gertha could feel it like a heavy cloud pressing down on her chest.

The door creaked open behind her, and her father, Lord Lorenz Bavar, stepped inside. His face, usually stern but warm, was grim today. Gertha turned, her confusion evident as she looked at him. Just yesterday, her father had been in high spirits, proud to serve as one of Otto's closest allies. But now, something had changed.

"Father, what's wrong?" she asked, stepping forward.

Lorenz hesitated for a moment, his jaw clenched, before he finally spoke. "Your grandmother... she's not well, Gertha. The doctors say she may not last the day."

The news struck her like a blow. "But she was fine yesterday," Gertha whispered, her voice faltering. "How could this happen so suddenly?"

"Age catches up with all of us," Lorenz said quietly, his face betraying the sorrow he tried to conceal. "Come with me. She's in the next room."

Together, they made their way to her grandmother's chambers, where the once vibrant and commanding Lady Julie Bavar lay on her deathbed, surrounded by stewards and doctors. Lord Sigfried Drest and Lord Jon Rhener stood nearby, solemnly paying their respects.

Lady Julie's once sharp eyes were now clouded, her breathing shallow. As they entered, Gertha could hear her grandmother whispering, her frail voice repeating the same strange words over and over again: "Eyes of brown and purple... brings fire of blue."

Gertha frowned, glancing at her father. "What is she saying?"

Before Lorenz could respond, Lord Drest spoke up. "It's nothing, child. She's delusional from the medications."

But Lord Rhener disagreed, his voice low and serious. "No. She speaks of the prophecy Otto has often mentioned. Eyes of brown for Yvan Rus, eyes of purple for the Elvish. It's no coincidence."

Gertha shivered. She had never believed in prophecies or superstitions, but hearing these words from her dying grandmother made her uneasy. Her grandmother had been locked in her chambers for years, rarely venturing out, and yet she spoke the same ominous words Otto had mentioned. A chill ran down Gertha's spine.

Lorenz knelt by his mother's side, holding her hand, his face stoic. But Gertha knew her father too well... beneath that mask of composure, his heart was breaking. She watched as her grandmother took her final breath, and the doctors pronounced her dead. The room was filled with a heavy silence as they all paid their respects.

Lorenz gently closed his mother's eyes before rising to his feet, his voice steady despite the loss. "We should prepare for the meeting."

Gertha nodded, though her heart ached. "Did Otto send his condolences?"

Lorenz shook his head. "No. He's a busy man, making the most of his time. The funeral will be small and brief... Otto has other plans for us."

Gertha's jaw tightened with frustration. Her grandmother had deserved more than a hurried funeral. She loved her dearly, and the thought of such a rushed ceremony left a sour taste in her mouth. But there was no time to dwell on it. Duty called.