"Your Grace." Mabel entered her father's office and placed a hand on her chest, bowing towards him. Closing her eyes, she waited for him to give the command to rise, and once it came, she stepped forward and took a place before him. Endless documents piled on his desk, and his cold eyes carefully read each one, not sparing a glance towards his daughter.
"What is it?" Anton said with slight affection hidden beneath annoyance. Mabel thinly smiled, able to tell she was bothering him. She wasn't shocked. Despite the old regent having taken control of the crown's work whilst a successor was being chosen, there were things he couldn't do that had led to the numerous issues piling up.
"I have questions." Anton looked up at his daughter and nodded, setting aside the document he had read. Taking a seat, she waited for him to interlock his fingers and lean against his hands, his gaze peering deep into her soul. "Who are the people we can trust?"
"What do you mean by trust? Trust to protect the dynasty or trust to protect us?" Anton countered her question with another. Mabel looked to the ground and thought for a moment.
"Both." Replying, unsure which one she wanted to know, Anton nodded in approval.
"The former is anyone who carries the name Cosmatos. Even my brother can be trusted not to allow the family name to crumble, even if he wishes for the throne. But be careful of this. We can trust them to try to move to protect our dynasty, but some are foolish and will inevitably damage it out of idiocy." Anton slowly spoke, choosing each word carefully.
"Is there no one else?" Mabel asked, making Anton close his eyes for a second. After thinking, he nodded.
"The Lord of Last Hope out of indifference. He has no ambition south of the mountain range. Those with whom we have a marriage alliance, but this does not apply to the Great Lords. Anyone related to them who marries into our family will strive to put their blood on the Throne." Mabel could tell he had finished and waited for him to answer the second part of the question.
Once again, Anton fell silent and thought, squinting as he reached an answer he didn't like. "For me, your mother, you and your brothers, we can only trust one another. That is not to say we don't work with others, but they must never be allowed to get too close." Anton's knuckles turned white as he tightened his grip, "If you marry, make sure you marry a man who will protect us. Never strive for a person who is overly ambitious, unless the benefits are greater than the costs."
Marbel nodded and could see the cold gleam in her fathers balck eyes, able to tell he hated the thought but knew there was no other way. "Why do you ask this?" Anton finally turned the questions back on Mabel, able to tell she came for a purpose other than to learn.
"I met one of the Princelings today. He had a look in his eyes, much like Uncle Brandon's. Yet this was the first time I had ever seen such a person. The rest of the family either sink into irrelevance due to incompetence or flaunt their name without understanding their role in it, with only a few deserving to do so. But he was..." Mabel tried to find the words to describe Tristan. Looking to the ground, she took a deep breath and met her father's gaze, "Acting. Acting in a way that would allow him to stay invincible but see everything. He had competence and chose to hide behind humility."
"Which one?" Anton asked, closing his mind, trying to put a name to a face.
"Tristan. Uncle Walter's son." Mabel quickly answered.
"Walter." Anton's finger bounced as he remembered his dead brother. There was no longing or affection in his gaze, but neither hatred. It was simple indifference. Thinking of the throne room, he remembered Tristan and slowly put the pieces in place. Even if he was terrified in that moment, it was like his daughter said. He was observing everything that happened.
"Has he sparked your interest, Mabel?" Anton asked, wondering why his daughter cared about a random Princeling with no chance to inherit.
"Slightly, but it is not why I am bringing him up. Ser Titus told me he had no guardian since he was seven. A boy of royal blood has been able to live in the palace like a shadow for ten years, to the point his family hardly knows about him. And the similarities I feel he has to Uncle Brandon." Mabel leaned forward, her gaze chilling slightly, "Is there a chance he is a piece uncle has hidden? Tristan can walk nearly every hall without worry, yet has avoided attention for so long."
Anton took a deep breath, "Thank you for bringing this to me, Mabel." Mabel frowned, but couldn't tell her father that he didn't know, and didn't wish to embarrass himself. Getting up, she placed her hand on her chest and bowed, returning to her room to prepare her outfit for her meeting with Tristan.
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Tristan stepped out on the Yellow Patio, its name given due to the array of yellow flowers littered around its edge that added some warmth to the grey walls of the Everlight Palace. Sitting under neath the canopy, Mabel drank tea, looking out towards the city, wearing a thin pair of trousers and a shirt whose top button had been undone.
Looking around at the servants who waited for her, he realised why she let herself look so undignified. 'Each one is her person. Who knows what rumours could spread if they weren't.' Even if Mabel dressed more like a man than a woman, she still made sure to cover as much skin as possible in pubic. It was a small thing, stupid even, but Tristan knew the strength of rumours and how quickly they could get out of hand, especially if she dressed in such a way whilst summoning her cousin.
"Princess." Bowing with a hand on his chest, he waited.
"All bar you. Leave us." Marbel looked at one servant as the rest bowed and walked off in an orderly fashion, closing the door behind them and standing in the room, waiting for the moment their Princess summoned them again. When allowed to sit, Tristan stared at Mabel as the maid poured him a mug of tea.
Holding it, he pretended to sip, letting the drink rest just below his lip before putting it down. "The tea is lovely."
"Thank you." Mabel smiled and turned to him. "What is your favourite part about it?" Tristan's smile twitched as he looked down at the mug.
"The aroma." His words caused Mabel to chuckle lightly as she put down her cup. "What did you wish to talk about, Princess?"
"Can cousins simply not talk to one another without deeper intent?" Mabel smiled and leaned forward, making sure to press her arms into her breasts. Tristan noticed the fake attempt to seduce him and, without biting, stared deep into her eyes, not letting his gaze wander.
"Of course we can. If that is the case, how are you adjusting to your new change?" The two held eye contact for a while. Mabel leaned back and smiled, quickly fastening her top button, then lifted her cup and took a sip.
"Perfectly fine, Tristan." There was an awkward silence as Tristan waited. Mabel calmly drank, letting it drag on for an uncomfortable amount of time before putting her mug down and looking back towards the city. "Can we be honest with one another, Cousin?"
"If you wish, Princess," Tristan replied instantly.
"Why do you hide in the background?" Mabel looked back at him, "You seem... smart enough where you could be put to use by the family, but instead you are choosing to hide from it." Tristan blankly looked at her and turned to the city.
"Let me ask you this, then? Why are you pretending to be a wild woman? No restraint, acting more like a man." Tristan coldly said.
"Such rude things to say," Mabel said with a half laugh.
"Mere rumours that others say. Not what I believe." Tristan quickly countered. Mabel smiled and shook her head.
"You first. After all, it is not polite to keep a lady waiting." Tristan looked to her and met her wild gaze that hid something deeper.
"Must we explain why we chose to survive. I already lived due to random chance as a babe. Nothing other than survival matters," Tristan honestly answered and saw a flash of surprise run across Mabel's eyes before quickly disappearing.
"Who would dare hurt a Cosmaton?"
"You don't believe your own words, Princess, so why are you saying them. My father carried the name, and look what happened." Mabel's smile grew wider as he shrugged and took her cup, taking a drink and finishing. Her maid moved quickly to refill it. Taking another drink, Tristan finally brought his cup to his lips and went to sip, but stopped and put the cup back down.
"You're right. But being invincible to the world is rather lonely." Her eyes narrowed, "And unhelpful."
"It is." Tristan leaned back, "You haven't answered my question."
"I'm not hiding anything. I am both. I like to dress in a shirt rather than a blouse. I would rather train with a sword than take part in a ballroom dance. I do it because I can. Who will tell me not to?" Mabel honestly answered and took a sip of tea. With a big silent gulp, she put the mug down. "Soon, you can't keep playing as a shadow Tristan. Soon enough, the survival you cling to, will rest on more than hiding away."