Lady Sybella, radiant in a gown of silver threads, frequented every social circle of those present at the Castle of Schameister. She moved with grace, her charm evident, but always with a well-veiled ambition lurking behind her eyes. Her presence was magnetic, and she wielded it like a sword, mastering the whispers at every corner.

The hall echoed with murmurs, but the chatter dwindled as Camio arrived, eyes sweeping the room, until they landed on the arresting figure of Lady Sybella. “Ah, Lady Sybella,” Camio started, with a tone of nonchalance that only lady Adelaide could ever recognize as feigned, “I yearn to learn poetry from you, as you have noted. Would you care for a light stroll?”

The room was silent, every ear strained, eager.

She responded, her voice dripping with sweetness, “Why, Your Grace, but of course,” A pause, then a playful addition, “Lead the way.”

The courtyard outside provided a less stifling atmosphere. Camio began, “Your proposition the other day caught me by surprise... However, I suspect I already know ‘somethings’ about the poetry of treason…”

Lady Sybella flashed a coy smile, fanning herself lightly. “Oh, your grace always has such a playful way of turning words. Poetry is, after all, an art of expression first and foremost, not a deed of transgression.”

Camio stared at her. “It would seem that alliances often have implications far beyond mere sentiment. You’ve been quite forward with your desires, my lady. To merge our houses would indeed bring great strength... great strength at this hour. It is so very convenient, one might think.”

She stepped closer, exuding the scent of her perfume, known to be delicate and intoxicating. “I bring you light, your grace. But more than that,” she whispered, her voice taking on a silkier quality, “I bring promises of continuity for our fair duchy.” She then motioned to the grandeur of the castle, the serenity of the courtyard, the sea, and the vast lands beyond.

Camio sighed discreetly, conflicted. He walked a few paces away, removing himself from the area assaulting his senses, his eyes now fixed on the distant horizon. “Your allure, my lady, is undeniable. And your proposition... advantageous. But matters like those should not be the only concerns here.”

Lady Sybella's eyes gleamed. “Oh, my Duke Camio, I understand, and I am certain we can see to those… complexities as well. This is a strategic move for both of us, but we can make it so much more.”

Lady Sybella leaned towards Camio, her hands holding on to his shoulders. He was stiffened by it, but she approached still. However, before she could close for a kiss, a hurried sound of footsteps interrupted her. The breathless envoy sent to Marchoss approached, bowing hastily. “Your Grace, a message from Duke Estragon.”

Camio took the sealed envelope, broke the wax, and quickly skimmed its contents. His face hardened. “It seems our neighbour has made his move while we were here… playing like fools, lady Sybella.”

Lady Sybella's face paled slightly. “What does it say?”

Camio looked at her, his tone colder. “He refuses to retreat and threatens to have us all executed once he rises to power! Marchoss is little more than the prologue, in all clarity.”

She bit her lip. “Then, your grace, you have even more reason to consider my proposition, do you not? Together, we could be a formidable force against any threat, even outside.”

Camio folded the letter, tucking it inside his coat. “Have you not heard me? This is no time for such events. We must prepare. I shall rally my knights and guards. We march at dawn. And you, lady Sybella, you will remain here to fortify our defences and maintain order. Your influence is undeniable, and it will serve Schameister well in my absence.” Camio's voice was firm, brooking no argument, but he allowed himself another soft, almost imperceptible sigh. “Our discussions of alliances will wait until the threat is quelled, and I have seen then your show of loyalty for your overlord.”

Sybella nodded; her ambition momentarily curbed by the gravity of the situation. “As you command, Your Grace. I shall do what is necessary for our duchy's safety until your loving return.”

Hands on her gown, she bowed, pondering on the show of service that had just been thrust upon her. Camio watched her leave soon after. Then, turning on his heel, he strode toward the war room, where maps and plans awaited his scrutiny before he set out.