Chapter Text
“Interesting”
It is true, when one is rich and in a place of public importance, and when travels openly displaying wealth and a station of public importance, it inevitably attracts two sorts of people: the brave and the stupid. Treize was still considering in which category these three horseman and their noisy followers belonged. Treize was a fencer and politician, he did not make his name in the arts of stealth or subterfuge of the physical kind but even he was able to hear the painfully loud scrapings of underlings and thugs as they moved themselves into positions about the halted train.
He lifted one eyebrow, I suppose this might turn interesting.
Stepping out of his carriage he grabbed his sabre that was always slipped to the side wall of his carriage, just beside the door. Sitting down with a sword was most impractical and he would not be without it.
“Gentlemen.”
He stopped, causing some uncertain glances to appear on the previously smug faces of the horsemen as the seconds ticked by. He heard the quiet “snick” of the opposite door latch as Zechs made his way out of the carriage. The center horseman spoke first.
“You do honour us Sir, we are the poor people of this region that make this wood safe for such esteemed travellers as the Duke of Oz. I trust your journey through these woods has been unhindered?” He accented his words with wide gestures and a theatrical edge to his voice, never once losing his smile.
“The journey has been pleasant, up until now.”
“That is well then, It would not do for trouble to beset such a lofty person! Would you be willing then, to give us a contribution for our efforts, that you may continue to receive safe passage?”
“There was a time when a good deed was done for the sake of honour and chivalry, and that is what I offer you if you leave now. I don't with to become pressed for time.”
The smirks immediately returned to the faces of the horsemen. They were of the stupid.
Treize could hear the shifting movements of the rest of the thug gang. He rested his hand over the pommel of his sabre, and flicked off the tie with two of his fingers. He put one heel on the open doorway of the carriage. He decided he would wait a few more moments to come up with something possibly else interesting before moving on overtop of them. He decided to wait until the count of three. Unfortunately, Duo only waited until the count of two.
000
Wufei closed his eyes and rubbed at his brow. He was always scholarly by nature and could spend hours in libraries but he had to admit to himself that he needed a break from the ponderous books and papers that filled the overlarge shelves around him. Princess Relena and the man he now knew as Pagan, the master of the household, had given him leave to explore the wing on his own and he decided that now was a good time to accept the hospitality.
For the size of the palace, servants were sparse and Wufei found the solitude to his liking as he paced around in the corridors, appraising his surroundings. The Peacecraft Palace had quite an eclectic collection of items, some from cultures that Wufei was familiar with, others he had yet to encounter. He stopped when he came to wide, long hallway, it's walls covered in paintings and portraits. The images depicted the history of the royal family of Sanc, and Wufei examined each curiously as they started with painted carvings of men with long, braided hair, great swords and shields in their hands, dressed amply in the fur of wild animals, to smooth skinned individuals dressed in silk, swords worn but sheathed at their sides.
In with the regal portraits were dramatic depictions of deeds and stories from Sanc history: an ancient king facing off against a great serpent that looked to be part of the storm clouds that surrounded them; a queen wielding an axe before a line of suitors; a young man in layers of silk with one hand on a pale-eyed eastern lion...
“Found the gallery have you?”
Wufei turned to see Pagan standing not far away, a slight smile curving his moustache.
“Sanc cares about it history.”
“The people care about their pride and their land. There are other rooms dedicated to the common people and our way of life.”
Wufei examined a smaller portrait that could only be of a young Princess Relena, smiling widely and holding her hands in front of her. He looked over the other portraits briefly before speaking again.
“Where is the Prince?”
Pagan turned and pointed to a painting high on the wall behind Wufei. “A gift from his grace, Duke Khushrenada of Oz.”
The painting depicted another long haired man of pale complexion – likely as strong in Sanc heritage as the dark, angular features among Wufei's people – perched high behind the shoulders of a raging white dragon. The dragon was nothing like the graceful, sinuous creatures that Wufei's people held in such high regard. This one was thick and heavy and screaming ferocity. Wufei wondered what sort of person the Prince of Sanc would be.
“The armour is in a small display in the armoury by the stables. Would you like to see it?”
Pagan still wore that slight tilt in his moustache when Wufei turned to look at him. Looking back at the painting he focused on the brilliant red armour that Prince Milliardo was wearing. It did not appear to be the rumoured dragon scale set that was typically attributed to him. He lifted one eyebrow.
“I believe I would.”