Perfect. The druid doesn't die over something that happened a hundred years ago, and he isn't responsible in front of his vassal for keeping her alive in any way.

"What? That's - you - " he splutters. When the archduke doesn't react, his expression hardens. "The queen would not allow this if she knew all that you had done."

"One moment, that isn't all." She skips to the appropriate part of her paper of stupid humans leaving her alone. "'Furthermore, the Crown's amnesty extends to all crimes before Her Majesty's coronation, including those committed during and before the Chelaxian Civil War.'" She then raises her eyebrows and folds the decree up to put it away.

"'All I have done'? I have spent the past week risking my life for the chance at peace, saving the lives of those in danger, confronting and entangling mobs before they wrongly kill their noble quarry, dragging bodies out of the streets, putting down the disturbed dead, feeding the hungry, and, oh yes, flying for hours every single day to see that Cheliax's future harvests succeed. What have you done, butcher, besides make a fool of yourself and make it clear to your queen and country that you would have been better left dead?"

"So you claim your present actions justify all those you've killed? That you can make yourself useful enough that people hesitate to condemn you for your Evil?"

"It is a new age for Cheliax and its inhabitants. It is not a matter of justification, but of pragmatism. We are all asked to forgive and forget the crimes of the past for the sake of building a better future. Besides, the 'crimes' you are so hung up on? Are nothing in comparison to what the populace suffered under Infernal rule, or what was done to rebel against them. You would know that, if you'd lived the intervening years like I had. Grow up and get over yourself. You've had the time."

It's not for himself - it's for his father and his people and their memories. Not that he needs to justify his actions to her.

So the Queen has granted her immunity and amnesty - it is not in Vidal to disobey the Queen. Her mistakes are her right to make. But he will remember Voshrelka, every time he sits in his father's seat, every time he rides out to slay a gashadokuro, every time a farmer is taken by the forest. When her immunity ends, he will duel her and he will kill her. If he is denied that, he will wait, wait until she returns to her ways, wait until the Queen sees the truth and grants him justice.

Vidal bows stiffly to the Archduke, then walks away.

Yeah, he probably would have been better off left dead. That man is going to trip and fall, cause a diplomatic incident, and likely get quite a number of people killed. Mostly his own, she expects. Oh, and also try to kill her eventually, but that's just to be expected.

She waits to see if the Archduke has anything to add, though, to see if he's as stupid and shortsighted as his vassal. Also to give the butcher time to retreat, it's not like she wants to spend time with him now that she's soundly defeated him in his own realm of civilization. Twice.

"I apologize for my vassal's behavior," he says. "One of the disadvantages of resurrecting the old nobility is that it also resurrects their old grudges. I had no expectation that the Crown would actually agree to prosecute you; I had to present him some alternative to attacking you in the street."

"I see. Your apology is accepted, though I feel it would be more apt directly from the man responsible. You realize he's still going to be plotting my demise, yes? He has been denied here, but he is nothing if not a persistent hunter."

"I think between this and my own warning he has at least been persuaded to wait until the convention is over. I hope that by then we can establish at least a preliminary treaty of peace with the Barrowood, which he would be unambiguously in the wrong, even by our laws, if he were to break."

"I'm curious of your account of the events he holds a grudge about. He gave me his own, but one should always hear both sides before judging."

"He's angry that I killed his father. And I did, so." She shrugs. "That accounting is correct, at least. Are you asking my reasons why?"

"Yes."

"He was hunting... a clan of were-something-or-others. I forget which strain of lycanthropy it was. Not the wolf kind it's absurdly named after in this language, something more esoteric. But it was a century ago, and I've forgotten some of the details. Either way, those so afflicted with such curses were men, once, and sapient regardless. I'll not say they weren't a danger, because they were. But when he hunted them they had done nothing. It was merely the chance that they would. A - disease to be excised before it spread to the population of his own territory. It wasn't his call to make. They were not his people, anymore. They were ours." Pause. "Also, he had a habit of letting the borders along the riverbank mysteriously move further and further into the wood, chopping all that was in the way of this expansion, and we'd had enough. It was an opportunity and cause. With his greed, he was putting the fragile shreds of the treaty between Cheliax and the Barrowood at risk."

"So there was a treaty, at least in theory—his account made it sound like his father was clearing the riverbank and otherwise minding his own business. I was just going to say that as a matter for future negotiations we can't accept an agreement where we aren't allowed to keep the river safely navigable."

"Anyway, as you say, it was a hundred years ago. I hope that the next hundred years are better for both of us."

And he, too, will depart.

The treaties of your forefathers are so easily forgotten by your sons, she doesn't say. It wouldn't be productive towards her goals, just expressing bitterness.

"Let us hope so," she agrees, instead.