The young woman slips the leather hood from the bird's head. Free of restraints, the red raptor flaps once with powerful wings and launches itself from her gloved arm, soaring after its prey, a small furiously-flapping pigeon. From horseback, the girl and the dark-bearded man watch the bird closely as the falcon swoops down, efficiently seizes its prey in its talons, curves back in midair, and drops the dead pigeon on the ground nearby. The entire event takes mere moments.
The falcon lights on the girl's gloved arm. The creature preens its scarlet feathers, regarding the man and girl with an imperious glare.
"A fine bird, Mouse," the King says, impressed, hand to his bearded chin.
"He's moody, Father," says the girl. "He only hunts when he will, not when I wish him to."
The man leans forward. "I've told you before, Mouse, you must brook no rebellion, even in one so magnificent. You must bend the creature to your will."
Princess Mireille smirks at her father. "Many times, your Grace."
The spring day is sunny and splendid. The two sit astride horses on a steep, forested hillside, deep in the King's own private hunting reserve. Guards and retainers under a fluttering royal pennant watch over the two from a discreet distance, some yards off. In the far distance, to the east, loom the towers of Port Kalida against the ocean-blue sky; to the west, the fertile riverlands of the Triangle are just visible.
From the city, a rider is seen approaching, on a black horse, a bearded man with heavy-lidded eyes and a world-weary expression.
"Look, Father, it's Lord Valentin," Mireille says, her voice flat. Completely flat. "Always at your side, even here. What a tireless servant he is." She binds the falcon's legs to her glove once more. "Or should I call him Baron Avery, now that he sits the council with that title?"
The rider is recognized by the King's guards and allowed to pass into the royal presence.
The King remonstrates, as Valentin approaches: "Mouse, as tiresome as he is, he's the best King's Eye since…since, well, myself, of course. " The King's manner is not given to humor, but he seems almost amused in his way. "He may even be of use to you, one day, when I am gone."
The Princess rolls her eyes. "Father, you shall never die."
The King is earnest. "You see me as a daughter sees her father. You must learn to see without sentiment. Besides, I asked him to report to me here."
"Sentiment, your Grace?" teases Mireille. She knows her father dislikes that word. "Unlike our cousin, King Henrick?" For anyone else in Sarrik to tease the King in this manner would mean their lives. Mireille earns only a gentle shake of the King's head.
"You are a very disagreeable child, Mireille," he says, clearly not meaning a word of it. "That you communicate with our royal cousin has not escaped my notice. As well, you know that it would come to my attention and you have done it anyway. But we will speak of that matter another time."
Valentin, on his fine steed, canters up to the King and his daughter. He salutes the King and Princess each in turn, deferentially. "Your Grace. Your Highness. Good day to you both. A most excellent kill, if I may say, Princess Mireille. As a hunter, you have few equals," he opines, indicating the now-hooded falcon on the Princess' wrist.
"She does well enough, Valentin," the King says. "You only flatter in this manner when you bring bad news. So unburden yourself of it."
Valentin, the King's Eye, keeper of royal secrets, glances towards the Princess. He pauses before speaking, raising a brow in silent question to the King.
The King says, impatiently, "Your habits of secrecy are unwarranted before the Princess. Speak openly, my lord. As openly as you ever speak, I mean."
Valentin explains, "News from Mazirin, your Grace. Your royal cousin, Governor Yannick, has failed to find your Kingly ancestor's fabled Treasure. Yannick's certainty to the contrary, the expedition was, by all signs, an abject failure. Apparently his source for the information was not as reliable as he claimed. The two ships we loaned him have failed to return, and no trace has come back of them. The governor's whore, the woman Izmeralda, a native of the Yandar Isles, has apparently been lost at sea in the quest. There will be no share for the royal treasury, I am afraid, nor any lost legendary sword for your armory."
Mireille looks for some reaction in her father to this news of failure, but the King's voice is devoid of emotion.
The King makes a fist. "This surprises me not. It was a fool's errand, and he is a fool. Charge him for the lost ships that we loaned him, and see that his prisoner is put to death. And make sure the Crown's disappointment is expressed properly."
Valentin nods. "Yes, your Grace. In addition, there is new information regarding another matter we have previously discussed. Our mutual friend." He smiles, but waits for the King to ask more.
"Mutual friend?" the Princess asks. "You mean you've found him, Valentin?"
Coldly angry, the King snaps at his King's Eye: "Must I pry everything from you, Valentin?" Mireille is surprised that unlike the sunken ships and lost pirate treasure, this news has provoked emotion in her father.
Valentin drawls, "We have a lead on his location, your Grace, and are even now following it up. He was last seen in Mazirin, and we have reason to believe he is still nearby. Inquiries have been made among our people there, and answers given. It is only a matter of time."
The King frowns. He glares at his spymaster. "Then you have two reasons to travel to the Maze. I expect you to handle these matters personally, Valentin. And bring back our mutual friend."
"Me, your Grace?" Valentin asks. "He is, as you know, quite dangerous. Are you sure you wouldn't rather just have him disappear?"
"No, Valentin." The King says, coolly. "I would put him to the
question myself. Retrieve him for me."
Mireille murmurs, "Aye. You must be our falcon, Valentin." Her gaze bores in on the King's Eye. Seated alongside her father, the resemblance between them is uncanny.
Valentin bows his head. "My honor is to serve, your Grace, your Highness."