April 27th, 1615

Two months later ...

Summertime had brought with it the migration of the court from Berengaria to Dareth Fall, in the province of Carac, the High King's personal estate. Only those who were highest in rank and most trusted were invited to summer here with the royal family in residence, to enjoy the coolness of the air brought about by the many canals and fountains that checkered the wide gardens surrounding the castle there. Only the most trusted were there; yet it was there, in Dareth Fall, that a dark purpose was being brought to fruition.

Six men sat together, long after the sun had set, their conversation lit by candles, the room stifling hot by necessity. They could not risk any word of what they were about being overheard by anyone out for a moonlit stroll in the gardens outside. A knock sounded on the door, and with furtive fear, a servant emerged from the shadows to admit the last member of this secretive gathering.

"My lords." The voice was charming, cultured, matching the handsome face revealed as the newcomer lowered his hood to identify himself. Everyone knew the face of Prince Maksim, the High King's indolent but engaging second son.

He found a place at their table, claiming a cup of chilled wine for himself as he lounged in his seat, his dark eyes studying each face that looked upon him with wary curiosity. "Maverly, Randuel, Garet, Huntley, and Firmeth," he noted the name of each noble as his eyes skated over them. "Quite the little cabal you have assembled here."

"We have each taken the risk of allowing you to know who we are, your highness," Lord Maverly said in tense tone. "We would have your answer now, before anything more is discussed."

The prince considered the men around him thoughtfully. He knew full well that to answer in the negative would mean that his body would be discovered at some point over the next few days, no doubt mutilated beyond recognition; just as they knew that in showing him their faces, they could effectively be signing their own death warrants. They did not think it such a risk, however.

"I agree," Maksim said quietly, hiding his smirk at their sudden relief in a sip of his wine. "But I have conditions that, should they not be met, will mean the end of this attempt, my lords."

Drawing in a slow breath, Maverly met the eyes of his fellow conspirators, each of them nodding to him. Clearly he was the spokesman for this cabal, as the prince had put it. "Name your conditions, highness."

Maksim sighed, as though bored with the whole affair already, and sat forward to lay his forearms on the table. "In order for your plan to work, your puppet will have to have incentive," he pointed out. "Close enough to see, far enough that he cannot do anything to prevent the consequences of his disobedience. That, my lords, is the mother and sister. I want them at court with me; the sister in a pose as my current mistress - we can fabricate letters of patent for her - the mother as her maid servant. Rest assured, they will be watched closely at all times. I am risking far more than merely my security and wealth with this gambit."

He watched as this sank in, careful not to lay out too many good reasons in case they realized that he had a mind of his own.

"Second, I will need free rein to act with a certain amount of familiarity toward our target," he told them. "Your puppet will have to be coached carefully, his hair dyed; he will be a greater success if I may accompany him at court, and at this moment, that is not a sight which is seen too often. The wife will be of no great concern, but the child she carries could be. If male, his birth will set us back. However, if she could be made to witness the culmination of this plan, it is likely she will lose the child in shock. Therefore, you must allow me to cultivate her friendship without suspecting my motives."

Again, he watched them consider this condition, knowing it made sense, but knowing also that it would make them uneasy.

"Last, I need guarantees from all of you here present," he went on, and felt the atmosphere thicken with anxiety. "I need to know that the culprits will be provided for the trial and execution, with or without their foreknowledge. I need to know that the body will be disposed of with some certainty of success. And, my lords, I will need you all present in the capital. I have no wish to appoint advisors who will have to travel several days from their lands when my grip on my new position is so tenuous."

Huntley nodded, speaking before Maverly could open his mouth. "The Coimbrans believe they are immune from any retaliation, but we never intended for them to survive their plot," he assured the prince. "We will make them examples to strengthen your position. The body will never be found, you may be certain of that. And as to the last, highness, it is simple good sense. We will have to move quickly to secure your safety in the event of any misguided attempts at accusation, therefore we will all be present. Our voices combined, our reputations, will protect you in those first days."

"The child concerns me," Firmeth said in a low tone. "Should the woman not lose the child in shock, we must somehow contrive a stillbirth. Your apparent friendship with her would provide you with opportunity, highness. Are you prepared to take the life of a newborn innocent?"

Maksim stared at him, his dark eyes hard. "I am prepared to do whatever is necessary."

Satisfied, Firmeth nodded, his only concern alleviated by the prince's certain response. Garet, however, frowned as he laid his own concern out for them.

"What do you intend to do with the mother and sister?" he asked the prince directly.

Maksim smirked. "Oh, I shall have my fun while the game is in play," he chuckled, the sound echoed by the others about the table, even Garet. The sister had turned out to be quite the little beauty, once she had been washed up and dressed appropriately. No wonder the prince wanted her at hand. "And when we are successful, I will have no need for either of them. They can go with your puppet, and take their secrets with them."

Looking around the table, Maverly could see that the lords' concerns had been soothed by the prince's well-considered response to their offer. He raised his glass. "To success, then," he toasted them. "May we prosper."