Dark Pact had definitely saved his life by ridding the Ring's control over him. But he wasn't sure how powerful the maxed-out version of it would be compared to its level one counterpart. There was a small chance he'd just melt into sludge as soon as he used it.
Regardless, he flips from his status over to his inventory and tosses off the mangled Loyalist gambeson. Instead, electing to wear a shirt under the mangled chainmail along with padded trousers and boots. His Cloak of Camoflague had been stolen after his captured, so he'd have to make do with the mundane brown one he'd used before.
Fortunately, despite his capture, Cromwell, Sheffield, and Wardes were unable to remove his Fairy Trinket, which still sits comfortably around his neck. They had attempted to cut the thread holding it around his neck, but every time they were repelled as if the Trinket itself was rejecting them. A useful feature that he hoped all Dota Artifacts would possess... This might also be the reason why you could only use one at a time.
Michael was most upset about losing his sword though, he could do without his magic cloak, but that blade had been a faithful companion to him for most of his time in Antomiers... Just another crime to carve into Wardes' tombstone he supposed.
Before he leaves this area in search of Tiffania, he flips through the pages of the Book of Commoners until he stops on Shadow Shaman's page. He looks down at the animated man and nods his head. "It's been a while."
...
"Ah, has it? I'm not sure time flows the same way it does where you are, young one." Rhasta states unsurely before pointing at him, or, what he was depicted as in Rhasta's view. "You look like you haven't slept a wink in days! What've you been up to, student!"
Michael shakes his head, "I got captured. And I escaped... Master Rhasta, do you know anything about Elves at all?" he asks, wondering if there was a way to track them... It probably wouldn't work due to their world's being drastically different, but a guy could wish, right?
"Elves...? I don't know much other than they are close with the Spirits. I met one that even claimed to be descended from one, but... I laughed in his face, huhahahahehe! Like the spirits would even touch a mortal! Heha!" he laughs, deciding not to probe Michael more on his recent experiences.
Michael shakes his head, "Again, is there a way to track them? With the Spirits help maybe?" he presses, not wanting to scour the whole of Albion just to find his target.
Rhasta shrugs, "Probably? But it'd take years for you do, forget about trying it." he casually remarks while falling onto his back, looking as if he was going to fall asleep any moment.
"Yeah... Thanks for your help, 'Master'." he mutters, closing the book with a huff. "Now, where to go..."
Michael walks over to the centre of the village and picks up a stick, holding it upright and letting it drop to decide which direction he'd head. "Alright, that away."
---------------------------------------------------------------------------
Princess Henrietta sits opposite her mother while trying to not grimace. The Queen was barely holding back her anger, which was made obvious by how it sometimes slipped through her polite facade. "Mother, I-"
"Don't, Daughter..." the Queen almost growls as she slides forward a piece of paper, "You will tell me the truth of the matter, and only then will I decide your punishment... Did you write this?" she asks, allowing Henrietta to uncover the copy of the letter she'd written to Prince Wales.
Henrietta pales, her hands becoming clammy as cold sweat starts forming on her back, "Whe-" she starts but stops as the Queen's brow's scrunch. "Do not lie to me, Daughter."
...
"Y-yes mother. I did." she admits, but despite the tense situation she'd found herself in, her thoughts were drawn to how this letter became public, as well as how Prince Wales was doing... She didn't believe for a second that it was him who released it, meaning it'd been intercepted midway... It could only be Viscount Wardes or a rouge member of his unit. The fact that he hadn't returned yet made it clear that something had happened.
Henrietta's thoughts are broken as the Queen begins to speak, "Why, Daughter, did you write this? I was aware of your fondness for Albion's Prince, it was your father's intention to have you wed before he passed. But you know as well as I that the situation has changed... You may have just doomed Tristain with your single, selfish action." she states while retrieving another letter, this one looking far fancier than the copy of Henrietta's letter.
"This is a missive from the Germanian Emperor. Can you guess what his response is?" the Queen asks, her shoulders visibly trembling in anger.
Henrietta felt like curling up into a ball and crying, knowing exactly what the letter contained. "My engagement-"
"Yes. You're engagement. Which has been broken, smeared, dragged through the streets of Germania, and denounced by almost every nobleman from Albion to the Holy land. You-. We. Are now a laughing stock, the butt of every joke told in even commoner taverns... I had a meeting with the council not long ago, and General Gramont suggested to have you stripped of your title..." the queen continues, shocking Henrietta.
"Mother! You cannot listen to that traitor!-" She starts but is against interrupted, "BE QUIET!" the Queen exclaims, now not restaining the glare she was sending towards her daughter.
"I should have you stripped of your title and sent to marry some lesser noble in Germania as an apology for your actions!... But, I am still your mother... So I offer you this one last chance. You will marry General Gramont's first son, Teiter Gramont."
"But-"
"NO! You will do this or be banished from this palace! Your acceptance of Louise Valliere has already set General Gramont and his allies against us, so to prevent civil war, YOU, WILL, DO, YOUR, DUTY!" the Queen demands and gets up, not waiting for Henrietta's response as she leaves the room and lets her dwell on her words.
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