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“Your Excellency, everyone except for the pope has arrived,” Frederick III said, bowing his head at the ground. He was in Tafel’s room, which used to be his. He was holding a piece of paper with a list of names on it, extending it out towards Tafel.
“Why hasn’t the pope arrived?” Tafel asked. “I thought you said everyone got the message.”
“They have,” Frederick III said. A bead of sweat formed on his forehead, and he dabbed it away with a handkerchief, letting the list of names drop to his side when he realized Tafel wasn’t going to take it. “The pope even sent a message saying he’d be here, but something must’ve happened to him. One of the guests heard rumors about strange things brewing in the Papal States.”
“Oh?” Tafel raised an eyebrow. “What kind of rumors?”
“The peasants are staging a rebellion, and the higher echelons of the church are on the run.”
“Huh?” A weird expression formed on Tafel’s face. A peasant uprising, that couldn’t possibly be related to her, right? She pointed at her face. “My peasant rebellion?”
“No,” Frederick III said. “The Papal States are strictly controlled by the church. No one would preach about the upcoming apocalypse in there because they’d be stopped and apprehended, perhaps excommunicated for blasphemy. Not to mention, the Papal States are quite far from us, and your rebellion has barely spread out of Saxony. Father Müntzer might be good at convincing people to join your cause, but it’s clear he’s not a very good administrator. If it were up to me, I’d have fanned the flames of rebellion across the whole Holy Roman Empire by now.”
Tafel blinked. “Are you volunteering yourself?”
“I’m just an old man who can’t keep up with the changing times, but if Your Excellency will have me, I’ll gladly serve under you,” Frederick III said, lowering his head even further.
“You know, the rebellion’s about taking power away from people in positions of power like you, right?”
“Yes,” Frederick III said. “However, I do agree that the church has too much power and have been abusing it. It’s why I supported Martin Luther. I don’t agree that I’ve been abusing my position of power; however, with you leading this peasant uprising, it’s quite clear the peasants are going to win, so I may as well join the winning side instead of waiting to lose, no?”
Tafel scratched her head. “Well, in that case, sure.” She nodded. “You can help me establish a new rule.” She grabbed a nearby coat and donned it. “Take me to these rulers.”
Frederick III led Tafel out of the building, through the courtyard, and into a different building meant to host balls. It was large and spacious, and dozens of people were milling about inside. Hundreds of knights lined the walls of the building, wearing armor adorned with all kinds of different crests representing the lords they served. When Tafel entered the ballroom, an unnatural stillness spread out starting from the front and creeping towards the back. After a minute passed, it was completely silent. “Good afternoon, everyone,” Frederick III said, interrupting the silence. “Thank you all for coming; I’m sure you all must’ve been very busy.”
“What is the meaning of this, Elector of Saxony? Is that a devil by your side?” a young man asked. Upon hearing his words, all the knights in the room drew their swords and approached their masters. “They actually exist? Indeed, I would’ve also convened a royal diet if I captured a devil.”
A small smile appeared on Frederick III’s lips. “You’re mistaken, Elector Palatine,” he said. “It’s not I who has captured a devil. It’s the devil who has captured me. Also, she prefers to be called a demon.”
“A witch!” Elector Palatine said. “You’ve actually turned into a witch, yet you’ve had us convene here. What are you plotting?”
“My new master has a plan,” Frederick III said and took a step back, positioning himself behind and to the left of Tafel. “She wishes to be the ruler of the Holy Roman Empire, and to do that, all of you have to….” He turned towards Tafel once he realized he didn’t actually know what she was planning. He whispered, “What do you want them to do?”
Tafel cleared her throat and took a step forward. The nobles took a step back while the knights got into a formation in front of them. “All of you will comply with the twelve demands of the peasants led by Thomas Müntzer, and all of you will swear fealty to me.”
“Wait!” a noble said. He pushed past the knights, his plump body jiggling as he walked. “Are devils allowed to do that? You should know the consequences of interfering in the mortal world! Aren’t you afraid of divine punishment?”
Tafel placed her hands on her hips. “I’m not.”
The plump man looked to the sides, sweeping his gaze over the gathered knights. “Seize her! Whoever captures the devil will receive twenty-five pounds of gold and one of my finest warhorses!”
The knights hesitated, but a few who wore the same crests as the plump man advanced towards Tafel with their swords at the ready.
“Go! Go! Whoever delivers the devil’s head to me will receive thirty pounds of gold and ten acres of land!”
More knights charged forward as the nobles behind them urged them on. Soon, all the knights except the ones belonging to Frederick III were running at Tafel. Tafel’s horns glowed blue and silver, and she waved her hands. A thin sheet of ice covered the ground, and the knights slipped, sliding forward because of their previous momentum. A moment later, a long portal appeared by her feet, stretching out to the sides. The knights screamed and tried to stop themselves from sliding forward, but they couldn’t. Cluster by cluster, the knights slid into the portal and vanished. From outside, there came vague sounds of people screaming along with the clanging of armor that accompanied suits of armor when they crashed to the ground.
Tafel dusted off her hands, and the portal vanished while the ice on the ground ruptured, shattering into thousands of fine crystals. She put her hands back on her hips. “Swear fealty and prosper. Remain stubborn and suffer. The choice is yours.”