[NPC] The Duke's Resolve

[King Ghidorah]

Note: The following posts take place between the sixth and seventh posts of This Thread. While Pinay was sifting the ashes, this is what Mothra went off to do. 

The Duke his Grace William Conrad van Harnburg, master of Castle Harnburg as well as its lands and titles, was feeling very pleased with himself. He stood on the balcony of his personal chambers, within the Westernmost tower of his keep, sipping an acceptable glass of wine and watching the last ruddy hues of daylight as they vanished beyond the cliffs on the far side of the lake. He scratched at his flabby neck. A sudden gust of wind ruffled his unkempt hair, tried and failed to pull his black silk nightgown from his paradoxically skinny shoulders, and the cloying chill made him smile.   

It had only been a few days since the destruction of the elven squatters, and already there was increased activity on the Western road. Not only that, but his spies had managed to arrange a controlled leak  - more of a rumor, really, omitting or twisting certain pertinent details - regarding Ghidorah's involvement, his other 'accomplishments', and his relationship with the Duchy of Harnburg. Other Dukes and Counts of Camelot had begun sending agents bearing subtle inquiries to Harnburg's court, seeking information on their mysterious new champion. 

By the time the Countess of Shatterdun put two and two together, it would be too late. If she tried to blame Harnburg for the destruction of her caravan, it wouldn't just be the Duke's word against hers - she'd be fighting the popular consciousness; At best, she'd seem bitter and petulant. 

If things continued in this vein, King Ghidorah would hand him Shatterdun on a silver platter.

Van Harnburg's smile dimmed a little at that 'if'. 

Ghidorah was still behaving, for the most part; After accepting his payment without a hint of gratitude or respect, and a brief rest to recover from his wounds, he'd taken to roaming the valley: interrogating peasants or simply following them around and watching them work. It was nothing short of unnerving; He practically oozed murder, and yet all he seemed to want to do was learn about every person he met. 

The Duke was still convinced Ghidorah was a greater asset than he was a threat,  but the more he saw of the golden giant, the more comfort he took in the knowledge that a backup plan was firmly in place. And if Ghidorah flew off the handle and Chatterly's special project failed... well, there was always one last option. 

Ghidorah wasn't the only Prime in the valley, after all. 

Beyond the cliffs, the last light of day disappeared, and the stars began to come out. Van Harnburg sipped his wine, an idle regret over the quality of his vineyards drifting across his mind, and he realized that he suddenly felt quite tired. He set his glass on the balustrade, tightened the sash of his gown, and turned to go inside. 

Abruptly, a voice behind him spoke, low and melodic, concerned - and just a little bit accusing:

"He's going to kill you." 

The Duke froze at the sudden interruption, but rallied quickly. 

"I beg your pardon?" he said, and turned to face his unexpected guest.