Sir Reginald, Duke of Cottingham

Sir Reginald is a frequent visitor to Elyssia, though not an entirely welcome one. His pomposity and arrogance can be grating, and you can tell that he frowns upon the notion that you, a commoner, became a King based on nothing but blind luck (you haven't bothered to tell him how you tricked the system; it's not like he'd be impressed). Still, you'll have to deal with him eventually. The trade agreements which he is so keen to open are worth a great deal to Edward III, Sir Reginald's king; but they are also worth something to Elyssia, especially now that your kingdom is prosperous and can bargain from a good position. Besides, you can't help but wonder what's become of Rosaline; the last time you saw her, she was lying nude in your bed, breathing hard from the exertion of having just finished riding you to a decidedly pleasant conclusion. You had to step out to take care of... certain needs, and when you returned she had vanished. You saw her cousin the next day before his party left (and he clearly had no idea what had taken place the night before), but not Rosaline.

"I do wish Master Lucius had attended to the tower," Duncan says with dismay as you approach the crumbling spire. "It is rather embarrassing, having our guests stay in such a ruin."

"It would take months to repair, perhaps longer, with labor we couldn't spare," you point out. "Besides, I never thought any of our guests would be foolish enough to actually move into it. If it falls down on Sir Reginald's ears, he had it coming."

"Yes, Sire," Duncan mutters, still frowning up at the tower's cracked crown. Sir Reginald's banner flutters from a high window, not from the top; apparently, even he couldn't get a servant to brave the last few steps up the ladder. Even in your youth, the tower swayed in the slightest wind, and you can't imagine twelve years of neglect has improved anything.

The bored guard at the door looks up with sleepy eyes, and then snaps to full attention when he sees who approaches. "Your Majesty!" he shouts. "I beg your forgiveness, I had not been told you were coming this morning!"

"I had not planned to," you assure him (it still bothers you when men such as this become frightened in your presence, as if you're going to spank him for finding guard duty tedious). You check your instinct to explain yourself further - it took you a while to get used to the fact that Kings just don't do that - and give a gentle tug on Steelheart's reins to bring the horse to a halt.

Duncan speaks for you. "Inform Sir Reginald of Cottingham that King Xavier, First of that Name, comes to welcome him to Elyssia."

"At once, Sire!" the guard says, nodding vigorously, and rushes to speak through the peephole in the door. You can hear a flurry of activity inside as they scramble to announce your presence.

It takes no more than a minute or two, and then Sir Reginald emerges, flanked by two of his men. "Your Majesty," he says gracefully, "you honor us with your presence! I am delighted that you have come to welcome us, it is most kind and generous of you."

You notice that Rosaline is not with him, and are about to ask after her, but then think better of it. "I have many others to greet this morning," you say, "but I had hoped for a few words with you first, Sir Reginald. Might we talk in private?"

"Of course, where are my manners? Please, Your Majesty, do me the honor of sharing some wine at my table." Reginald snaps his fingers, and his squires rush forward to take care of your horses. You give Steelheart a scratch behind his ear as you dismount, a sign which indicates that he may allow himself to be cared for by these strangers; if you had not, he would have reared and refused to accompany them.

The inside of the tower is rather sparsely furnished - you had not, after all, intended for it to be occupied - but Sir Reginald seems to have made do with what was available. One of his servants comes running up with two goblets of wine, offering you the first while Sir Reginald takes the other.

"To your health," Sir Reginald offers, and you both drink. You notice that it's not the best wine you've had, and suspect that Reginald thinks you wouldn't know the difference. "I really am most pleased that you are here, Your Majesty," Sir Reginald says. "Not only an I eager to bring our trade discussions to a conclusion on this visit, I believe I have identified a matter in which your Kingdom could benefit from some outside assistance, which of course I am able to provide. Elyssia, as you are no doubt aware, is quite isolated and only reachable by traveling through thick woods and mountain passes - roads which will be used only more frequently following this festival which essentially announces your existence to the world at large. Visitors and merchants will no doubt be coming here from all the corners of the Earth."

You nod once; it's been your experience that Sir Reginald tends to memorize these little speeches, and it's best to let him finish once he gets going.

"This will exacerbate a problem which is already present in your forests and surrounding wilderness," he continues after another sip of wine. "I refer, of course, to the matter of thieves. I have nothing but praise for the fine men of your City Watch, but Your Majesty must realize that they are woefully insufficient to patrol even the two main roads leading from your city, let alone the smaller trails and the forest itself. I believe you already have something of a local legend in the woods... I've heard tales of the 'Vixen'?"

"Stories tend to grow with the telling," you say dismissively.

"Ah, but these stories have a grain of truth," Reginald insists. "They are too consistent to be otherwise. A maiden dressed in a black cloak, her face never seen clearly but of undeniable beauty, who fires black-tipped arrows which never miss their mark - and never kill, for she aims only to impress with her marksmanship. She attacks men traveling alone, takes their gold and valuables, and vanishes."

"Those who want to make it an even better story claim that she's naked under her cloak, that she floats a few inches off the ground so as not to leave footprints, and her eyes will hypnotize a man so that he willingly gives her all his gold and thanks her for the privilege," you point out. "We have a bard in town who's composed at least ten songs about her."

"Are you saying the Vixen does not exist, Your Majesty?"

"My patrols have standing orders to watch for anyone of her description in the woods, and to apprehend any other thieves they come across. But, as you say, the forests are large and we are few."

"What if you were not so few?" Sir Reginald leans forward. "Consider the value of adding to your ranks, Your Majesty. Before the end of summer, I could have a hundred men from my country here in your city, men highly skilled in the arts of woodcraft and finding those who do not wish to be found. I have brought five of them with me, so that you can see their prowess. I submit to you that you could release any of your subjects into the woods at sundown, and the next morning I will set my huntsmen searching for him, and they will find him before nightfall. It might even make an interesting addition to the tournaments; I'm sure the people would enjoy gambling on the outcome."

"I will consider it," you say noncommittally.

"That is generous of you, Your Majesty," Sir Reginald replies, though the smile drains from his eyes as his mouth remains fixed. "I know your time is precious this morning, but I wonder if you would allow me to take up a bit more of it? I have a guest with me who I imagine you would be very keen to see. Consider her something of a gift, from me to you."

"Her?" you ask, pointedly.

"Yes, come to think of it that would sound rather enigmatic, wouldn't it?" Sir Reginald muses in the particular tone he has that makes you want to strike his stupid face. "I was going to wait until tonight's supper before presenting her, but really, why wait another moment? If you would be so kind as to accompany me, Your Majesty, allow me to... spoil the surprise for you."

Sir Reginald gestures toward the tower steps.