Chapter 40: Somber Bells

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House Octavian held an official engagement party at the castle. I was not welcome. But I read in the broadsheets that they also were holding a public procession. It would wind through the streets of Octavo. I presumed this was due to the marriage including foreign royalty. 

And so, I watched the procession from the city walls. The procession was enormous. It was far too big for the mere daughter of a baron. But it was the perfect size for a crown prince. The people packed the streets. I could smell the body odor of the crowd from the city walls. The sound of boot heels echoed on cobblestones. The collective murmur of human speech rose from the street. It all merged into something like a storm at sea and a rockslide. The procession had fewer decorations than one might expect of a royal engagement. But of course, this wedding had been planned and executed in a rush. 

My thoughts turned back to the old world, and to my dad. He’d wanted to control everyone in his life. And somewhere along the path I’d walked, I’d started imitating him. I’d started trying to control Lynn. Was that loyalty or selfishness? I didn’t like the answer I gave myself. 

There was nobody I would less like to be than dad. And yet, I’d spent all of my time in this new world trying to control Lynn, to run her life. Maybe I was right that she shouldn’t do this. But it was her choice, not mine. If I was going to be loyal, I needed to let her go. But I didn’t want another death on my conscience. I didn’t want her to end up like mom. What was I to do?

“Ren? How are you doing?” I looked up to see Leon walking towards me. 

“Leon, what are you doing here?” I asked.

“Staying out of the way. I had to put in an appearance as Duke. Now I’m doing my best to ignore this whole thing. A guard mentioned seeing a woman up on the walls. I recognized your description. I felt we would be kindred souls today.” He sighed, “I saw this coming. I knew she was doing this. And I couldn’t figure out how to stop her, how to save her.”

I nodded, “That’s my thought process exactly. I let Lynn down. I failed her. And I failed Amy and Fiona as I tried to save Lynn.”

Leon leaned against the wall next to me and slung an arm over my shoulder and gave me a gentle squeeze.”

“Lynn didn’t want to be saved.” Leon said.

I nodded, “I wasted my energy trying to rescue somebody who didn’t want my help.”

He nodded, “We both did. But could you have done anything else? Because I know I couldn’t.”

I nodded in response, “She does love you. You know that right?”

He nodded, “But does she know I love her?”

“She does. She just has trouble believing it. She has trouble believing anyone loves her.”

After that I fell silent. This was the end of the video game. We’d reached the point where the credits would be rolling. But the conspiracy to set up the invasion was still moving forward. And I knew that it had to have been underway since long before Wulfric proposed. 

My head snapped back, as though somebody had shot me.

“The marriage doesn’t solve anything,” I yelled. I recovered and lowered my voice. “The marriage doesn’t win the game. It doesn’t save the kingdom. It can’t. Because this invasion is still happening in the background.”

Leon looked at me, “What are you talking about?”

“I’m going to test something Leon. I’ll tell you what I mean once I’m sure that I’m not crazy.”

“You said invasion,” Leon pointed out, “That seems important.”

“Unless I’m wrong. I’m not going to waste your time and energy on a goose chase. Give me a day or two. And then I’ll either know if I’m right, or else I’ll be dead.”

“Ren, wait! The wedding is in a week, you don’t have much time!”

But I ignored him and hobbled away. 

Placating Prince Trigger Warning wasn’t the point. The prince was a distraction. The whole song and dance had been misdirection- like a loud and angry stage magician. The marriage was there for Ys. We would think that relations between Hyperborea and Ys were good. We would think that the threat of invasion has passed.

But the truth was that invasion was waiting beneath their feet, preparing to strike. 


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