11- LEGEND OF NEVETSECNUAC - EVIL PERSONIFIED - SECTION 11

Worren Youkup’s tightened jaw revealing his dogged resolve (his determined reluctance to speak) in the end forced her Ladyship Sejon to concede; and, forsaking propriety, a gesture of her hand dismissed Nijel also to the adjacent room with the others.

01- WORREN YOUKUP (6)JPM

Soon as she was gone, Worren Youkup’s expression hardened, presently burrowing his cold eyes into Sejon’s, he in an unyielding tone, bluntly stated that he was here to speak about Prince Herleif and the stiletto (penknife) in question. Anticipating her ready denial, he then held out his hand, and tersely added, "Save your breath, I’ve already determined the truth; it is of no use for you to deny your complicity in this matter.”

“You may as well make a clean breast of it."  Worren, moreover, taking advantage of her stunned silence, in his authoritative tone quickly put forth two consecutive, pertinent questions to her and demanded to know the answers to them:

“When precisely during the time he had shown Sejon the scrolls did Nijel (undoubtedly on Her Ladyship's instructions,) plant the stiletto inside the scroll? And when exactly had Sejon devised this scheme; a long while ago or, was it an opportune temptation to which she on the spur had succumbed to?” 

Worren had phrased this last bit deliberately to allow Sejon a chance to extricate herself with a semblance of dignity. Worren’s unusually direct approach meanwhile, had so shocked Sejon that her reply was long time in coming.

He would not dare be so forthrightly blunt with his accusations, unless he had attained indisputable proof; furthermore he, being right on the mark, would not take too kindly to her sly manipulation. Sejon askance (sideways suspiciously) had glanced at Worren. By then Sejon had realized that she had grossly underestimated the old tutor Worren Youkup, who was still very much astute, despite prior instances of his feigned muddle-headedness and supposed forgetfulness. Anxiously she bit her lower lip, thinking of her earlier erroneous suppositions when she had first heard of his unusual visit. She at the time had considered mounting a vehement denial of any involvement, then perhaps shedding a tear or two to soften Royal Tutor’s heart. She subsequently had planned gently berating (scolding)him and then swaying his righteous conscience, with sentimental euphemisms, guilt, and tailored aphorisms.

How could you even think of such a thing? She would have cried out against this injustice then would have added: I would never stoop to such pranks, for this surely was a prank, nothing more. I have harbored a slight resentment of Prince Herleif over the years, but who among us has not sustained an ingrained (deep-seated) grudge or worse, against him? The prince has never been an amicable being and has particularly been miserly with his deferential treatment of women. For numerous reasons, which I will not elaborate on other than to remind you of the last outrage he had committed, yes, I did intensely dislike him. Still, I have learned from you, Master Youkup, to walk a fine line and stay on the enlightened path of tolerance and compassion, and though it had not been easy, I had already forgiven the prince’s multitude of sins. Vengeful actions are all behind me now.   

  She would have gone on and on, just as she had rehearsed it.  

Sejon by using her feminine charms could still, even now, have played him, denied and distorted facts to achieve the eventual effect of, laying total blame elsewhere. Why, Worren Youkup’s vanity alone should have been sufficient to dissuade (discourage) the Royal tutor from pursuing this matter, for it would expose his being duped by no less, a naive female in her early twenties. Sejon was too clever in the meantime, to openly disclose her part in this diabolical scheme. Better she used uncertain terms and clever insinuations and double meanings, to allude to the truth. Later they could all be interpreted differently and totally recanted. It had to be done in such a way that Worren's analytical mind would be dulled or appeased. Oh, but all this mental strain so early in the day, was irksome to her and, it drained a good chunk of her vital energy. She was better disposed to managing such things in the late afternoons or evenings; the hours which, fortunately, coincided with Zakhertan’s occasional visits.  

Sejon was moreover displeased, noting that something was amiss with Royal Tutor this morning; though Worren seemed to play along, her evasive words and unspecified allusions obviously grated on his nerves, and he grew increasingly agitated. Despite his sympathetic smile, her instincts alerted her to the critical difference.

“You are way too clever for your own good, Master Youking, and by far too foolhardy.” Sejon lowered her eyes, to hide the fear and contempt that had just then registered in them. Worren had always been too upright and as much principled (ethical) as that cursed Lenny Sukzor. What if he did something quite drastic and went directly to Zakhertan to unburden himself of all that he knew. Best she humored him for now and articulated a heart-rending remorse to placate the old geezer (fool). He did after all, offered her a way out; obviously, that is what he wanted. Sejon’d settled on this recourse as she same time landed a partial ear to Worren’s incessant haranguing (tirade, lecture). No, but then she paused, she would absolutely, not give in, even an inch!

"Have you shared your thoughts with anyone else?" Sejon faking concern, asked.

Angrily, Worren Youkup shook his head, in denial.

“No, it is not something you would readily admit to anyone.”  Sejon was inwardly pleased and amused. "Good. Your own vanity will serve my purpose well.” 

02- HER LADYSHIP SEJON

 

Lady Sejon assuming solicitous demeanor, " Master Youkup, naturally I wish to ease all your concerns, however, let us first move to the comfort of my inner chambers, she sweetly suggested, at once rising to her feet. “It is so hard to relax in these outer rooms."  Her meaning was clear; we will have more apt privacy and security there, from the prying ears.

Youkub’s grudging assent still gratified her, for the room she had chosen was furnished with a rather loud fountain, sheer draperies and cushioned floors that made eavesdropping impossible. She left word with the servants that she was not to be disturbed for any reason then turned to accompany Worren into the inner chamber.

Once they were there and comfortably seated, she cast her eyes downward her face suddenly grown ashen and her green eyes overflowing with accusatory hurt. "Oh, I am so grieved Master Youking, for you are the last person I wished to offend. To think that my maid's harmless indiscretion, a mere prank, should have had such dire consequences for one I hold in such high esteem as you. You have become dearer to me than my own parents, my own loving grandparents. Oh, I am so very distraught.”    

“Please grant me your leave to continue."  Sejon hastened to block Worren’s anticipated response. She heaved a shuddering sigh and shook her head. "When I found out, I punished Zijur severely and dismissed her on the spot. If you had thought that Nijel had something to do with it, you are mistaken. She was in no way involved." Sejon blatantly lied. "It was Zijur who had placed the item there in order to discredit myself and Nijel after her demotion."  She paused, pursed her lips, and shook her head once more in supposed deep dismay. As it were, Sejon held the firm belief, that she’d conceived that whole scheme with the knife by herself and, Nijel had only carried out Sejon’s instructions; consequently, if Nijel’s part was ever to be disclosed and she unjustly got punished, the guilt would weigh like a millstone on Sejon's conscience.      

“Stop there.”  Sejon inwardly advised self. “Illegitimate half-sister or not, it is much too risky to go that far out on a limb for Nijel.”  It bewildered Sejon how, in such a short span, Nijel had won both her deep affection and sure confidence. She was grateful to her nevertheless, for so many things, not the least of which was her instrumental role in exposing the actual indiscretions of Zijur before it could generate the most severe repercussions for Sejon. Zijur's discipline, dismissal in disgrace and her unexpected suicide had been, thanks to in great part Nijel's conscientious efforts, well contained. Though Zijur had been her companion for number of years now, Sejon felt nothing but contempt for her after she had so grievously disgraced herself; therefore, she felt no twinge of conscience in compounding Zijur‘s faults by adding this blame, not when the timing was so appropriate. Nijel contrastingly, was deemed indispensable, as she had lent Sejon consistent support, where it had been most warranted.  

Sejon so completely trusted Nijel in fact that, if ample proof of Nijel’s duplicitous character were to be presented to her, it would still not be believed and furthermore, regarded as malicious slander. Pushing all that concern about Nijel aside, Sejon now glanced up at Worren, smiled warmly, confidently then picked up where she had left off, reiterating again that the chief culprit, Zijur, had been properly punished and dismissed from her service.  As for the fate of the former lady in waiting, it was no longer of concern to her.  

"All the same, I must accept the responsibility for my servant's actions, for allowing all this to happen right under my nose."  She tentatively turned her imploring eyes on Worren Youkup and grimaced. "As you have so wisely deduced, sir, it was a momentary temptation that was seized by a disgruntled servant. I said no more of it after I dismissed Zijur because I had not imagined that it would ever come to this.”

 

03- ZIJUR

 “I also believed that the prince would receive no more than a slight reprimand and a dose of embarrassment from all this.  As it were, the knife was not of weapon's grade, nor was it laced with poison as an assassin's pick would have been. It was a penknife such as those readily available in the library."  Sejon knit her brows in consternation, relieved that Nijel had briefed her on all the details should she ever be brought to task.  "Still, what's done is done." she huffed in resignation. Worren s persistent stone face continued to disturb her and inwardly she quaked slightly.   

Worren Youkup turned his head, biting back his rising anger at Sejon's ongoing deceit. He knew something about Zijur’s character, and he doubted the timid, sweet-natured girl Zijur who’d served Sejon loyally all those years, would be guilty of all that her mistress was at present shamelessly impugning (attributing) to her.

Subsequently, his frayed patience was somewhat allayed (dispelled) by the astonishment he felt at seeing the wide range of emotions Lady Sejon had displayed in that short spell. What he had witnessed had been truly incredible. That this exquisitely beautiful face could appear indignant, proud, strong, and even angry at one moment and the next become like a frightened, helpless little girl so hurt and petrified, as though she was protesting her innocence at a wrongful reprimand by an angry, unreasonable authoritative adult. At the end, the pleading eyes framed by such an imploring face that his heart, in all defiance of reason, became more inclined to forgive her.      

"Oh, Master Youkup, I would give anything, do anything, to alleviate your mind from all worry. If only I could erase the accursed events that led to this dire outcome. You must not be held accountable, and certainly not suffer least consequence, on my account." Sejon ejected shakily, her voice brimming with remorse.   

“Brilliant performance, my dear…  You almost had me convinced there. Such concern deeply touches my heart.”  Worren studied her face, his piercing eyes narrowing. “But why the insistence on protecting Nijel; what kind of hold does she have on you that it can override your innate selfish nature? Again, I digress.” He shook his head to clear away just then distracting thoughts. “This distasteful charade has gone on, far too long; it has been made clear to me now, precisely what needs to be done. You are the ideal product of this environment; more pity that you are also the mother of our future Sovereign.”  His tight smile had a tinge of sourness as he rose to his feet and bowed his head slightly.   

"It seems, Your Ladyship that I have been wasting both of our precious time; for that, I profusely apologize. I will now take my leave of you and proceed to the North Palace, where which, resolved to make a clean breast of things, I shall seek an audience with His Highness Zakhertan Yozdek. From this day forth I shall not be troubling you anymore."     

“Finally, the response I sought.” Worren Youkup was inwardly pleased, observing Sejon’s startled demeanor, as if she had just then awakened finally, to the future grim, dreaded reality.  Looking into her horrified eyes he smiled cynically, "Rest assured My lady, I will exercise the utmost care to leave your name and that of Nijel’s, or should I say, Zijur, out of my report (account, confession), if only for the sake of your son Prince Magnian."      

“After all,” Worren grumbled inaudibly, as he headed across the expansive room. “I should have had the farsightedness of my age and long years of experience, to have anticipated the outcome of irregular handling of Prince Herleif’s scrolls; the culpability (guilt) therefore, is entirely mine.”    

Worren Youkup’s apparent gallantry, his willingness to take full blame on her behalf, his supreme sacrifice, restored Sejon's full confidence. "But Master Youking, you can't do that." With the agility of her youthful age, she hastened forward, spreading her hands, to bar his path and to entreat (implore) Worren, once seemingly the shock had worn off and had freed up her voice.  Then in an obvious expression of regret and humility, letting go of her innate pride, she in an unprecedented move, quite unexpectedly fell to her knees before the old tutor to, teary eyed, beg his forgiveness.     

"The fault is not yours to claim, sir.  You are a man of great integrity and benevolence, as you have proven with your unselfish offer to extricate me, unworthy as I am, from this predicament and shoulder full responsibility yourself even though your true involvement was merely incidental.”    

“But in all good conscience I cannot allow you to tarnish the impeccable reputation you have preserved for so many decades.  No, kind sir, even at best your public esteem will suffer irreparable damage and I will be forced to make tenfold penance at my time of reckoning.”    

Worren had remained speechless especially when Sejon fell on her knees and with humility, bowed her head low to him. "Yes, you have shown me the error of my ways.  Please allow me the chance now to redeem myself for my mistakes.  Have pity on my innocent son, whose reputation will also be slandered by the sins of his mother.  As frightened as I am, I am firmly resolved to doing the righteous thing.  Henceforth I shall stoically face the consequences of my negligence (in controlling actions of my servants), but I need time to prepare myself for this.  I am, after all, a mere woman with limited capacity for elocution.  Words do not come readily to me.  If I should incur the wrath of His Highness before I can explain everything, all would be lost and Magnian and I will suffer even more.”    

“Bravo my dear. Again, you almost had me convinced. If only you hadn’t overplayed your humility, rather debasing… there, you went bit too far.”    

"My own life is of little consequence.”  Sejon had continued meanwhile, with her teary supplication. “And even if I should prematurely expire, I would be content; for I cannot bear the thought of you, venerable sir, being so unjustly punished.  Oh, Master, you have been as grievously wronged as it is.  I hope that, in time, you will find it clear in your heart to forgive me.  I have so valued your altruistic tutelage (advice and guidance) and look how I have repaid your kindness.  Please, please sir, do not begrudge me this time I need to collect my thoughts and present my case in the best light so that the right thing is done for both my son’s and your sake, sir.  Knowing that justice is truly served will ready me for whatever punishment His Highness will deal to me."    

Despite himself, Worren Youkup’s heart was wrung out.  As he hesitated, he quietly considered how the dire repercussions would affect innocent Prince Magnian.  Over the past few months, he had grown quite fond of the intrepid toddler.      

"Heaven has eyes." Sejon surmising what was on Worren’s mind, continued.  "I believe Gods will protect the innocent, do not fret too much over Magnian, he won’t face any serious future peril.  No, sir, you cannot dissuade me from doing the right thing now."    

The old tutor (Worren Youkup) totally beguiled, now begun regretting his harsh treatment of Sejon.  Bending down, and lightly gripping her elbow, he urged her to rise and be seated.  Taking a position across from her, he first assured her that he’d grant her the extended time she’d requested then in earnest, began his good counsel.   

His mind was still as sharp as ever and the summation of his lifelong experiences were utilized to afford her the most perfectly enunciated, solid defense, one that she would have never been able to formulate on her own.   

 

 

(END OF SECTION 11)

 

                                                                                                        ~

 11- LEGEND OF NEVETSECNUAC - EVIL PERSONIFIED - SECTION 10

The moment it had happened the news of the shameful episode and Prince Herleif’s subsequent punishment had spread like a wildfire throughout the Palace. The staff nevertheless hid their delighted chuckles and guffaws hidden behind a sleeve or a handkerchief, while inwardly wishing, still worst in store (yet to be) for this particularly disfavored Royal fiend (brute). As it were, no one seriously expected Herleif to one day ascend the throne; meanwhile, five or six staff members had already began expounding on the ensuing repercussions of this recent debacle (fiasco).

Zakhertan Yozdek’s estimation being right on the mark, fifty strokes had been more than an adequate punishment for the crown prince with his low pain threshold; Herleif had to be revived several times, due to the requirement that the offender (lawbreaker) remained conscious during punishment, until all the strokes had been properly administered. When it was all over, Herleif was taken back to his Royal apartments where he was gradually nursed back to health by the assigned, conscientious (diligent) Royal Physician, Enqui Rimeng.

After lying in unconscious state for several hours on the first night, Prince Herleif soon as he had regained his strength, spent the subsequent days and nights ranting and raving, venting his suppressed rage, foul temper, curses and unwarranted vengeful acts upon that vulnerable help who tended to him.

01- PRINCE HERLEIF RANTING AND RAVING

 Those domestics (servants, retainers) who were obliged to serve his unreasonable needs were made to suffer tenfold pain, worse than he had been forced to bear. His unjustified wraths (ire, madness) were only interrupted by ear splitting shrieks when the bandages were changed (replaced); his high-pitched yelps akin a whipped jackal, meanwhile, ripped through the air each time the potent medicine, a stinging salve (ointment, lotion) was applied on his lacerations.

Herleif (needless to say), had entirely missed the point of his punishment, and no one was foolish enough to attempt to reason with him or enlighten him on the elusive logic, let alone this rare, lenient consequence, for which he should be thankful (glad, content).

                                                                                   ~ 

Royal Tutor Worren Youkup’s previous night's soul-searching and sleepless hours of self recrimination, on the subsequent dawn (at daybreak) had visibly left its mark on his face.

Worren, nevertheless, was still adamant (resolute, determined ) to confront Lady Sejon and extract a plausible  explanation from her; hence, no sooner had he dressed and breakfasted, he climbed into his personal carriage and instructed the driver (handler, coach) to take him (traversing across the vast palace grounds) at once to the South Palace gate.

02-THE GATE OF SOUTH PALACE

Worren Youkup once there, while alighting from the carriage he quietly considered the long and brisk (laborious) walk that lay ahead of him before his destination, the compound at the far side of the South Palace where Lady Sejon, currently the Sovereign's favorite, resided. The location, besides being the grandest apartments in the South Palace, was set at the farthest high ridge (at high elevation with many steps leading up to it), with an stringent checkpoint at the bottom, positioned prior to the hanging bridge that crossed over the ecological (natural) deep lake, an intimidating, unwarranted measure, which  displayed her importance and discouraged any trespass from wayward or frivolous (inconsequential) visitors.   

This morning had been unseasonally frigid, Worren Youkup’s breath as he exhaled, let out white plumes of vapor testifying to  the crispness of the morning air; nevertheless, after flatly refusing the offered palanquin (rikshaw) ride, he with an unreadable expression for a spell had lingered at the spot and stared at the long stretch that lay before him. He of course, had deliberately opted to walk off all that nervous energy (in solitude) which had been bottled up within his chest; anticipating that, the physical exertion would placate his troubled heart and mind before he confronted Lady Sejon.

His prior (routine) morning walks had always given him an inexplicable sense of rejuvenation and oneness with nature, as well, effectively diminished (paled) all major disconcerting (disquieting, worrying) thoughts and experiences that often beset (plagued) him. Indeed, in those instances, the knotty (tricky) political affairs and dubious acts of powerful people that aggrieved his conscience, plus the problematic social and administrative duties had always (vanished) melted away by the wafting breezes that gentle caressed his cheeks; then, for a fleeting shining moment or two, whatever had ailed his heart or plagued his conscience, thankfully and indubitably, lost its significance (and potency).  That is what he’d sought to echo (recap) this very morning; thus, his steps anon (presently), promptly and carefully tread on the interwoven, smooth, damp logs of the hanging bridge, for it had drizzled (rained) freshly just before dawn. Worren Youkup, furthermore, indulging his lungs with rhythmic, deep intakes of oxygen, welcomed the soft zephyr (gentle wind) drifting (fanning) off the lake and experienced the familiar sensation, to akin absolute peace and tranquillity, availed by that pristine, crisp morning breezes that buffeted his sleeves and caressed his cheeks.

Subsequently, as his rapid and sure steps advanced towards Lady Sejon’s main dwelling (key residence), the acute tautness (tension) from his shoulders had also gradually eased and he was temporarily thence, got reprieved from the consequential qualms of his present dilemma. Halting for a spell, his eyes took in the magnificent outlay (brilliantly organized lay out, geometric designs, delightful landscape etc.) that stretched out before him; as he did this, he was reminded once more, that, ‘Things were same yet not the same.’

03- SOUTH PALACE - 1 JP

The South Palace (typically guarded by the heavily armed parapets,) contrasted in every viable way from the other Imperial dwellings (compounds, buildings), including those of Eunuch’s edifices (structures). Here for instance, the prevalent architecture by design lost the severity of all others. The manicured grounds, currently awakening at dawn and reconciled by the delicate patterns of the exquisitely adorned, more refined flowers, glistened with the jewel-like dew on them; meanwhile, Worren’s nostrils were delightfully assailed by their varied (diverse, mottled) intoxicating fragrances.

Those brilliant nuggets of flowerbeds, moreover, occasionally held in its centre the mythic nymphs, pleasing female-guardian statues, or the representations of legendary beauties fixed in enchanting poses. To put it succinctly, all was designed to totally inveigle (cajole) the senses, to disarm and place one in an amicable, receptive mood. Worren, likewise, mollified (placated), he watched the butterflies’ flitter here and there; while lending an ear to the ongoing lugubrious symphony of insects and birds, his soul entirely lightened now, of all its (mundane) burdens.

 

04- HEAVENLY GARDEN LANDSCAPES - 9

Unexpectedly, an involuntary shudder just then however, reminded Worren Youkup of the cold, forbidding North Palace where Zakhertan Yozdek resided. The austere Spartan decor of the North Palace was in keeping with the bloody frescoes which glorified hunting, war and the Sovereign's supremacy over nature and the works of Heaven. Every niche and corner held menacing marble grotesques representing War Spirits and Demons. Even Zakhertan Yozdek’s private garden from his apartments was decorated to look more like a battlefield than a quiet meadow.

 

Worren, two days prior had received the summons to render his usual report this late afternoon, a task which he did not ordinarily relished; currently however, this was made worse by Prince Herleif’s recent debacle (catastrophe). Worren, hence, shook his head to dispel those unwarranted, worrisome thoughts and fears that anew threatened to burden his soul and directed his attention instead, on the present fecundity (lushness) of nature, which opportunely once more lulled his senses into a tranquil state. Worren, furthermore, focused his gaze deliberately on the intricate granite walkway ahead that was boarded by glazed colourful (azure, yellow, red, green) tiles that glistened, then on the elaborately carved balustrades (handrails, railing) that boarded it. His steps absentmindedly navigated the smooth surfaces, as he pondered on the anticipated, soon to be encountered labyrinth (maze of) of fragrant orchard trees and then the snaking path of the tranquil bamboo grove.

 

05- SUMMER PALACE GARDEN - JP  3

 

                                                                                                        ~  

Worren Youkup’s hasty steps swiftly advanced (passed) through the large, circular moon shaped gate next, and then bypassing into the inner courtyard, he finally entered Sejon's private quarters. There, his gaze was greeted by jewel encrusted mosaics depicting seductive scenes of exotic nymphs cavorting shamelessly across the walls, designed to bring forth euphoric ecstasy of the imagined Heaven.  Notwithstanding his puritanical nature his gaze lingered briefly on them, to vicariously appreciate the frolicking, lifelike, voluptuous pixies (fairies, elves), fertile earth spirits entwined around the carved turquoise pillars that stretched up to the purple ceiling.

Worren Youkup’s feet, independent of thought, then softly glided on the plush carpet past the ranks of vermilion doors flanking the corridor and emitting waves of exuberance, warmth, and secrets, or whispered intimacies. Despite the bustling of the servants rushing to and for, there was such an atmosphere of placid tranquillity that he wondered if the news of last night's events had reached here at all. But of course, it had.

Later on, he would learn that the uproar which had rocked the very grounds of the East, West and South Palaces had not at all disturbed Her Ladyship's slumber. While everything was turned upside down about her, Sejon had slept soundly and peacefully through all the animated gestures, the whispers, the sighs and lashing of tongues. It was as though her physical form and soul existed in the  alternate placid universe.

The North Palace had also maintained the (norm) routine, as the resilient, stout attendants and guards often being quite accustomed to earthshaking events, completed their assigned tasks, with regimented, military efficiency, throughout the night and subsequent morning.

                                                                                                       ~

When her Ladyship Sejon finally awoke at her usual time in mid-morning Sejon was delicately informed by a serving staff (team) that the old tutor Worren Youkup had made his unexpected, early visit and that, stubbornly, he insisted on waiting for an audience (conference) with her.

"If he has so much time on his hands then waiting a little more will not hurt him." Sejon had replied without emotion and continued with her leisurely bath and toiletries. “Those towering bookshelves in the library will no doubt afford him some amusement; let him pass the time there. Make sure he has his treats." 

Having been perfumed and dressed she then consumed a full breakfast in her usual, unhurried manner.

 

06- HER  LADYSHIP SEJON

                                                                                                          ~

Worren Youkup, meanwhile, as per her orders, was congenially ushered into the library and, after making himself comfortable was served a cupful of fragrant herbal tea. A large tray of his favorite small cucumber sandwiches, sweets, and exotic tidbits was also placed nearby for him to partake.

“No, Sejon, I won’t be so easily mollified or enticed this day.” Worren had inwardly scoffed, snubbing the tray of cuisine pabulums (victuals).

Subsequently, leaning his back in the plush chair, his stern gaze had instead, uninterestedly swept over the volumes, row upon row of classic manuscripts and rare scrolls about family loyalty, proper conduct and morals which now taunted him by their incongruous presence in these apartments. But as the hours wore on, in these plush surroundings with the flowers perfume from the garden wafting into the room, it gradually pacified Worren Youkup’s inner fury and iron resolve; his hand meanwhile, had absently wandered over to the tray and, before he’d even realized what he had done, he had already popped several delicious cucumber sandwiches into his mouth. And once he had started, he could not very well stop, and so, with a sigh, he consumed last two of those delectable (scrumptious) sweet comestibles (edibles).

 

                                                                                                      ~

Sejon, with an amicable (cordial) smile, one that did not reach her eyes, had eventually sauntered into the library after her breakfast; but her keen eyes at once (noting) finding the tray empty, her laconic (pithy, curt) yet decidedly dour (terse, severe) look at the servants sent them immediately scurrying off to refill it.     

"What brings us the pleasure of your company so early in the day, Master Youkup?” She inquired pleasantly; her voice filled with respect while inwardly she cursed. “I will tolerate you for a while longer, you old fool, for you still have some use.”      

"You are always welcome here, of course."  She puckered (pursed) her crimson lips and coyly shook her hair once she had crossed the room to stand facing Worren Youkup, who had risen from his chair to greet her.

She was about to add, as you well know, I am more disposed to receiving visitors in the afternoon, but Worren's firm, almost angry countenance froze (arrested) the words on her tongue. After indicating for him to take a seat, she with a certain flair and charming decorum seated herself also, right across from the old scholar.

Observing her placid (tranquil, serene) demeanor, Worren Youkup could not have estimated that, just then, her stomach had in fact, knotted with anxiety.

For a period, they both sat immobile and with unreadable expressions simply gazed (stared) at the other, without a word passing between them.

Sejon held up her fragrant handkerchief to her nose and then pursing her lips momentarily looked away, as she succinctly considered: Courtesy was always the best policy. There was no point in aggravating the old goat any more than he clearly, already was.

"I hope you have not been kept waiting too long, sir.” Sejon purred her insincere apology, finally ending the uncomfortable silence, as she same time flashed him one of her winning smiles.

“That should be enough to placate him.”  She was confident of the effect, being the most enchanting beauty in all the land and typically, the response had always been the same; but Worren’s unwavering eyes had met hers coldly then moved about the room, resting briefly on each of her attendants until they settled on Nijel, her newly promoted yet most trusted and ambitious lady in waiting.

07- NIJEL

Worren Youkup wry (sardonic, cynical) smile fleetingly brushed his lips and then he nodded, “Despite her angelic face, yes, that vixen would be the one.”

 Worren lowering his gaze, cogitated further: Nijel’s keen eyes, before she quickly veiled (disguised) it, had bespoken of ruthlessness, an intense yearning and an unfulfilled ambition…More importantly, since she had replaced the absent Zijur, Nijel had consistently of late, had wormed (inveigled) her way into Sejon's confidence. Besides, Sejon was too crafty to soil her own hands.

Sejon's mind, meanwhile, was perturbed by the old man's cryptic manner; underneath her projected, fragile smile, laid bitterness she could not entirely repress. "How may I be of service to you, Master Youking?"  Receiving no reaction still, she pressed on, "Perhaps, sir, you would wish to visit my son, prince Ma...?"    

"No."  The curt (snappy) and unnaturally loud tone (voice, assertion) caused two of her servants to jump.

 "I apologize for my terse response,” Worren Youkup quickly composed himself, then added, in a low toneless voice, picking out each word meticulously. “However, the sole reason for my visit Madame, is to discuss here and now, a matter of utmost urgency pertaining to ..."  He stopped then his eyes dubiously (suspiciously) glared at Nijel.

"I am at your disposal then, Master Youkup." Sejon, pretending not to have noticed this, assumed instead a baffled (perplexed) look, plus just a hint of vulnerability added to her quivering, caring tone, that completed the pseudo (quasi, imitation) picture of a persona of an eager pupil, as she same time sat stiffly upright in her seat.

"Pray, tell me also, have I or any of my staff, done anything to displease you; speak frankly, your mind, sir, so that I may address (tackle) it immediately."    

Worren Youkup fought off the urge to slip into familiar pedantry. “Oh, you are good my dear, but it won't work this time.”  Her submissive manner far from pleasing him, seen now in a vastly different light, merely served to annoy him and his mouth creased into a grimace of disdain (akin a scorn).

“This brazen vixen is toying with me! Has it come to this, then?”  Though his expression outwardly had not changed, inwardly the resurgent rage had choked the words in Worren’s throat. “She knows full well what she has done, yet playing the innocent…what unmitigated gall she has?”

Worren, adamant at not showing any weakness, exhaled deeply to check his indignation then leaned back. “All right, my dear, we will play this your way.”  He softened his expression and fixed a more amiable gaze on her. In a pleasant tone he next inquired, "I wonder if, before we proceed any further, it could be arranged for us to speak privately."    

"Leave us."  Sejon's immediate, curt wave of her hand dismissed all her attendants, indicating to Worren Youkup that at least she wished to cooperate. They all promptly departed except for Nijel, who had not budged an inch from her mistress' side.

Worren Youkup remained silent; he knitted his brows and his stern gaze simply looked away, to a void space in the periphery of (just inches from), where Nijel stood.

 

(END OF SECTION 10)

 

 

                                                                                           ~

 

 11- LEGEND OF NEVETSECNUAC - EVIL PERSONIFIED - SECTION 9

 

Worren Youkup had realized that it was now too late for him to extricate himself from this terrible fix (pickle). The breach of trust could never be mended; besides which, how could he, albeit subtly, inquisition Sejon to arrive at the whole truth? And what would he do with the truth? Worst still, what if she professed her innocence and started to cry? 

 

01- WORREN YOUKUP (6)JP

The circumstances, whatever the prospects, all ended up stymieing Worren Youkup. While reflecting on the worse scenario, the old tutor's concerns gradually shifted to his loyal retinue of servants who would be summoned by Egil Viggoaries for questioning and inevitably be tortured until under duress they, confessed to all the real and imagined gaffes (errors) their Master might have committed. Steward Chutek, he knew, being his favorite, would fare the worst. “Should I report directly to? No.” He shook his head to rid himself of the grim images of the horror he would endure at the hands of Egil Viggoaries.    

“No, it is best I fabricate an errand and send Chutek out of harm’s way to my friend Tonzeye Yevgun in Chukset Province before the truth breaks.” A sealed, confidential letter with brief explanative of the situation, along with Chutek’s emancipation papers and a generous settlement to provide him with fresh start in new life, could all be forwarded to his friend Tonzeye, well in advance of Chutek’s arrival. Having settled on this course, Worren nodded decisively, “Yes, I shall address that matter immediately after my visit with Lady Sejon.” As it were, he still needed to ascertain, few things first. His prior urgent engagements, meanwhile, now having become less pressing would have to be postponed. After some more time spent in contemplation, Worren in desperate need of forty winks (sleep), even for just an hour or two to regenerate, eventually made his way back to his bed and crawled under the silk brocade comforter. Lying on his back, with the fragrant, plush (luxurious) bedcover pulled up to his chin, eyes shut tight, he still could not fall asleep (doze off, catnap), nor could he shake the feeling of foreboding (doom and gloom) that hovered over his head, particularly with the vivid images of that cursed dream incessantly parading in his mind’s eye. With decisive effort he finally pushed aside all those dreadful, fearful thoughts and concentrated instead on the serene scene of his childhood, to regulate his breathing and relax his mind; however, hours passed still with still no sleep.     

As he desperately needed to get at the truth and to save face, his thoughts had once more turned back on the manner of approach he would take with Lady Sejon when tomorrow he visited her. Sejon did not normally receive visitors until after noon, but Worren Youkup was determined to pay a surprise visit to the Lady's apartments shortly after dawn. He would wake her up, if necessary, and extricate a satisfactory explanation from her. He had settled on the stern approach, and he was determined not be intimidated by any tears; however, he would exercise patience and curtail his temper, affording her the opportunity to air her defense, if only for civility’s sake. There was no gratification in berating a frailer being. If on the other hand, he was to let go of this and overlook her part in it, left unchecked, she might continue injuring others in this way. At least she should be made to see the error of her ways; and that was why it was imperative he had a candid talk with her.   

Worren Youkup felt more at ease, almost comforted, to be back in his role as tutor until, his rage; unexpectedly rising (escalating) anew, this time was directed at his own failings. This sort of blunder would not have happened even as short as one year ago. What was happening to him? Was he suddenly going soft in the head? Channing was a dangerous place for the injudicious; would he survive the next akin blunder? Worren Youkup did not fear death as such; but he was proud of his prior accomplishments and had always been self-righteous in his actions. What he feared most was to, pass away (expire) with besmirched reputation. His status and good name meant everything to him. In his span of seventy years, he had lived in accordance with what he believed and preached, with perfect decorum and etiquette, with unfaltering loyalty to family and home, and staunch, undying devotion to the Sovereign and the State. His good standing was the only legacy; besides, seventeen insignificant compilations of literary works left in the Royal Library that he would leave behind when his mortal form was reduced to dust. How could he remedy this recent failing which would leave such a culpable imprint, a shameful blemish, on his otherwise perfect, impeccable life's work? How could he erase this grave mistake? It could not be done. Why not then, without further delay bravely admit his failing to Sovereign Zakhertan Yozdek and stoically accept his ignominious end and be done with it?   

In this agitated state and with his skin prickling Worren Youkup had remained awake the remainder of the night, staring blankly at the canopy of the bed, oftentimes tossing, and turning, his mind reeling with endless cycles of self-recrimination. One minute cursing his advanced age and cowardice at not being able to swiftly end his life with measure of decorum, then in the next breath, cursing the ill-fated times they all lived in where which evil thrived in every crevice of life. Rounding out these thoughts was memories of Lady Sejon and, dire oaths to never again let him be manipulated or cajoled by womanly wiles.  He cast aside the covers and set at the edge of the bed. He was incensed (infuriated, exasperated) with himself. It should never have happened. What an asinine thing to do!

He clenched his fists till his knuckles were white.  It was humiliating enough to be duped or, to put it kindlier, swayed by her charms. He had been lately, because of Prince Mangnian, fallen into the habit of calling on her in the afternoons to enjoy her delightful company, while partaking tea and tiny cucumber sandwiches which were his favorites. Those times, he would also, with approval, observe her performance (playing the role) of the conscientious, dutiful mother, very much concerned with the welfare and correct upbringing of her son, Prince Magnian.

 

02- LADY SEJON  YOZDEDK  (104)

   

How cunning of her to have tapped into his largest weakness; his firmly held belief that, overall, mothers were special, wonderful, and superior beings, to be perpetually esteemed, everlastingly revered, and rightly accorded a treasured status in every civilized society. He had worshipped his own mother who had been lost to him in early childhood, as the archetype of human treasures. His (recollections) memories of her countless loving ministrations, to date, still brought tears to this eye. As with all things there were of course, the sinister/ dark exceptions in Channing, more precisely the Royal Court of present regime, which had brought together more than its fair share of the ambitious, the grasping and detestable lot that sadly marred the sacred graces of motherhood.    

Sejon a good mother? Hah! he scoffed. He bristled as he thought, in hindsight, how her sort treated their own children, flesh of their flesh, as if they were but inanimate objects to be used as lethal weapons to further their own ambitions. There was no family feeling or respect here, only naked greed. He was, just then, reminded of another similarly distasteful example of a bad mother. The memory caused his lips to curl away from his teeth slightly, oh, but Lady Lingrace was far worse. For too many years (more than he could count,) he had observed from the sidelines how her son, Heng Erling, had been subjected to constant ridicule and scorn, so masterfully initiated, that he did not even guess that he was being artfully manipulated into, furthering his   mother's vile ambitions. Lady Lingrace had once been the attendant to Lady Elin (Prince Qijerrik and Prince Herleif’s mother). During that time and, even after her husband Gustav Erling had been executed for treason, she had continued to, without shame, her not so secret, illicit affair with Zakhertan Yozdek. Shortly after Grand Marshal Gustav Erling’s execution, all members of his family including Heng's elder siblings had all been put to the sword. Heng Erling had been spared solely, and Worren Youkup was certain of this, because the boy was the illegitimate son of Zakhertan Yozdek.   

“Where did all you’re scheming get you in the end, Lady Lingrace Erling, all that conniving and treachery?”   Worren Youkup mumbling shrugged; he was secretly pleased at the ironic outcome. “You had managed to retain your fine good looks but in the end the signs of ageing had finally caught up with you. You became a has-been, but you refused to bow out gracefully and live quietly in the background.” Worren shook his head knowing, Lady Lingrace right up to the very end had competed with the younger favorites, scheming, and plotting, strangely enough still igniting Sovereign’s passion, and choosing to exist, though precariously, near the apex power.    

“I will never understand the insatiable drive that motivates such ambition; you, a married woman and as the lady- in- waiting to Prince Qijerrik’s mother Lady Elin, are guilty of violating most sacred trusts. When Grand Marshal Gustav Erling fell from grace after failing to capture Lord Zhon and the infant Prince Nevetsecnuac, and you were doomed to share his fate, was it not your betrayed head of household Lady Elin’ gracious and benevolent plea on your behalf, that had spared your wretched life and the life of your illegitimate spawn? Even after all that happened, you had not changed one bit; right to the end you had connived and plotted. Imagine sending Heng Erling, on not so secret, fool’s errand. I fear he had been lost to Sovereign forever, never to be heard from again. You had parlayed your bargaining chip on a bet and lost him. Then all it took was one minor incidence to cause your downfall; for who would care to defend an old relic who had an extensive history of perfidy?” Worren Youkup in a hushed voice had aired this entire grievance to the pitch, empty room; for to date, deep in his heart he still bore a lasting resentment towards Lady Lingrace Erling who, as a young woman, had spurned the friendly advances of the well-meaning young pupil of the Royal Tutor Keonz. Barely out of childhood herself, she had shown a talent for unconscionable duplicity and astuteness that evenly matched her budding beauty; arrogant and full of herself, she had dealings with and fawned only on those she had deemed useful.

03- YOUNG LADY  LINGRACE

She had advanced her cause first by marrying Gustav Erling and then ingratiating herself into the good graces of Lady Bera then Lady Elin. Unfortunately, the young scholar with no political or family connections and a potential future as a eunuch Royal Tutor’s protégé did not fall into that exalted category.  All the same Worren Youkup would have understood that, however, it was her years of unmitigated, taunting cruelty and belittlement he found so hard to forgive. Truly one of a kind she was. Worren absently nodded, recalling countless cases where she had demonstrated her proficiency in manipulation and how over the years the shrew had managed to get away with so much.    

Worren had never admitted it to anyone, but despite being constantly snubbed, once when he had been totally inebriated, during a rare, debauched encounter with Lady Lingrace Erling, he had learned at an early age, a most useful, albeit painful, lesson and pointers, regarding the antediluvian arts of corporal deception.

04- LADY LINGRACE

Even so, it had still baffled Worren because most discerning Zakhertan Yozdek, had tolerated her for as long as he had. How Zakhertan’s patience never appeared frayed when he dealt with her, even when he passed the death sentence on her as she quivered before him. Then again, who can ever fathom the motives of a Sovereign Zakhertan Yozdek?   

You digress, Worren Youkup! Worren inwardly admonished self, shaking his head as if to purge such irrelevancies from his mind and, to steer his concentration back on the matters at hand. Sejon mighty be a different sort, but she was no less a vixen. With all his life's experiences, it shamed him to think how Lady Sejon had so artfully used his own weaknesses to advance her own aims.

On every visit she had enticed (bribed) him with his favorite small cucumber sandwiches and other rare and exquisite sweets, a particular vice he was not proud of, but one which enabled her to lure him into cooperative mood. Growing close to both mother and son, he had vicariously enjoyed the typical family life he had missed and coveted for his whole life. She had flattered him endlessly, feeding his ego by acting as if he was a nominal head of the family. Even though he was unofficially retired (and considered by few in the palace an honorable relic), she had asked him how best to educate and guide her now five-year-old infant son, saying it was never too early to begin a proper education. Though these assertions echoed his own sentiments, as he had asserted so many times in the past, they had appeared fresh and genuine when they came from her. He had been primed so artfully that he had played right into her hands, had willingly imparted to her the vital information, and unwittingly instructed her on the countless pertinent steps to take to make the smooth transition and to attain her hidden, ultimate goal-that of showing Prince Magnian as the only potential candidate to replace the already despised Crown Prince Herleif.  It was a boon to her cause that Magnian already exhibited good stamina, agility, and an unusual courage for a toddler (an infant). An adaptive learner, he had already with his adorable qualities, innately endeared himself to those that mattered.  

05- PRINCE MAGNIEN YOZDEK

The apparent potential of this child had pleased Zakhertan Yozdek enough that he had become a bit more disposed to Sejon’s sly, relentless suggestions, oftentimes when he rested in bed after a pleasurable activity. As it were, from birth Magnian had been kept under scrutiny and vigilantly protected from unforeseen hazards that had befallen his former siblings. 

By the time, the activity outside had gradually tapered off Worren, out of sheer exhaustion, had also drifted into a fitful sleep only to be woken abruptly minutes later by the morning bells.

 

(END OF SECTION 9)