Half-Demon's Revenge

by Lina J. Potter

  ***

  The duke was grieving.

  I was grieving as well; I didn’t have any choice. My beloved cousin was dead! Torn away from my heart! And his murderer has escaped! That wouldn’t do at all!

  The duke expressed his condolences and then started to blackmail me, gently hinting at his invaluable assistance.

  After all, he had the miscreant’s confession and had already written the king, so he would definitely help me if I...if I would...

  Marry his daughter. Nothing more, nothing less.

  We did have to satisfy the agreement and keep the peace between the two countries, didn’t we? That’s right, we did! So, Prince, do exactly that and get married, and I will arrange everything so Rudolph will never accuse you of his son’s death. You never know. Papers...they can be burned or go missing.

  I had to haggle.

  Yes, Lavinia is charming. But I’m a prince, and now, probably the heir apparent, so I needed a profit. For my homeland, of course!

  The duke was generous enough to present me the silver mines, which we had been fighting over for about fifty years, by the way. When he did that, it dawned on me: the king of Tevarr was aware of the whole plan—the plot and the origins of the duke’s daughter. Which meant I had to live only before Lavinia got pregnant, or, at most, until she gave birth. After an heir was born, she didn’t need me. But from the look of things, Lavinia didn’t know who I was. That was the first upside.

  She also hadn’t told her father that she had been discovered—that was the second one. I would have to use both of those advantages. In the meantime, I wavered, vacillated, and bartered, and finally, gave in. The duke was almost happy when he left me. Almost, because the wedding had to happen in Radenor. That was my final condition, and I held onto it like crazy. We had to marry in the main temple of Radenor and only with my uncle’s blessing, or our wedding could be easily declared illegal. A complex game of politics started.

  After the door was closed, the assassin exited the closet and provided a colorful listing of all of the duke’s fine qualities. I snorted.

  “Did you think he was any better than that?”

  “No, Your Majesty. May I inquire as to your course of action?”

  I pondered my reflection in the mirror. What a sickly creature, indeed.

  “Wait until everything’s quiet and get you out of here. You’ll go to Radenor together, and don’t even argue,” I snapped at Tommy. “Nobody else would be able to arrange everything there, only you.”

  At first, my friend was mad, but after I told him my plan, he calmed down and agreed with me, even if he did call it crazy.

  But did we have any choice?

  ***

  Three days later, His Majesty arrived, once again confirming my suspicions. They clearly had been conspiring to marry Andre to that girl. What else would His Majesty Mikael be doing three days’ journey from a border duchy? A royal trip was no small deal. It was a much grander affair than taking your dog for a walk. A carriage, an escort, provisions.

  They had blatantly been preparing and knew the contents of all our negotiations and correspondence... Scum! Did they think that having a king like Rudolph meant they could grab their own piece of the pie? Well, they were right, then. I’d use the opportunity myself, if I weren’t on the other side.

  His Majesty Mikael reminded me of a small-time shop owner. He was short, plump, and had a good-humored face that seemed a better fit for a counter or a behind a fish basket at a bazaar, not a king. And he probably used that to good effect, too. He clapped me on my shoulder amicably.

  “Alex, my boy, that was such a tragedy...”

  Yeah. Since when has the death of a prince from a hostile country become a tragedy to you? Yet I brushed away a tear as well.

  “Your Majesty, this is all...so horrible! All those assassins, a real nightmare!”

  The king looked at me closely. Is he playing me? Is he sincere?

  He settled on the second thought and sighed ruefully.

  “Son...can I call you that, ‘son’?”

  “Yes, Your Majesty...”

  I’ll have to tell Argadon, he’ll be so excited for the competition! Maybe he could even pay a visit...to clear the air?

  “My eldest son is your age.”

  And you have no daughters, no luck, or you wouldn’t be intimidating a duke, would you?

  They didn’t need vampires in royal families. My mother had no choice, but what about Mikael? He didn’t have to strain himself, having a neighbor like my uncle. It was enough to sit and wait until Rudolph ruined the country himself. It was inevitable...if I didn’t get involved.

  “It’s always so horrible for the parents, especially since Andre left no heirs...”

  “Yes, Your Majesty...”

  “You can call me uncle. Our families did intermarry at some point...”

  Huh. That had happened way back, in the time immemorial, like three hundred years ago, and it was a murky story. Either our princess had died or the Tevarrian one.

  “Yes, Uncle.”

  On the other hand, did it really matter? One uncle, two uncles...they say, it’s only the first time that’s hard. I wonder, will the King of Riolon want to become my uncle as well? If so, then I hope for an inheritance.

  “That said, at least they have you. A respectful nephew is almost like a son...”

  Especially since they had no other heirs left, unless Abigail got a bun in the oven. She was still afflicted with Martha’s curse, which nobody had dispelled—and couldn’t. If anything happened, Martha could easily renew it any minute, she had enough hate for that.

  Plus, Abigail was getting on in years. At her age, women got pregnant only with the help of the Bright Saint, or a mage. She was around forty, so she could conceive, but how much time would it take? Uncle wasn’t as energetic either, he was all used up.

  As for magically conceived children, they had a huge drawback. Half of them were born deficient, mentally or physically, and their mothers often died at birth. Of course, they would support Abigail with magic, but it was a serious risk anyway.

  Not to mention that the kingdom couldn’t wait for an heir. So who would it be, hmm?

  “I’ll do everything in my power, Uncle.”

  Mikael concurred, took me by the arm, and led me toward the castle, telling me about Lavinia’s suffering. After all, I had lost a cousin, and she, her beloved fiancé.

  I obeyed.

  Marry?

  Why not?

  But the dowry...

  Oh, that scary word...

  His Majesty nodded and again agreed. There should be a dowry, of course. And those mines... Of course, it’s a loss for our countries, but if we sign a letter of intent, that would be so much better.

  I consented, but noted that the agreement would have to be negotiated by veteran diplomats. I wasn’t an expert on such topics. Now, poetry...

  Have you read Avriel of Riolon? Now that was a great poet!

  Unfortunately, he had not, but we would definitely discuss his works.

  Our talk was all smiles, harmony, and perfect accord, as well as legal accords. Ugh!

  ***

  I had a talk with Lavinia as well. She came at night, and I barely managed to stop my unruly arm from hitting her with a dagger. Oh no, you didn’t.

  My slap threw the half-vampire across the room. I don’t know if I could hit a woman, but Lavinia was no woman. She was a monster, and with her, everything was permitted. If I had to, I would beat her with a silver chain across her spine.

  “Back away, you tramp.”

  That was bound to make her shut up. Lavinia hissed, but bit her tongue until it was bloody.

  I nodded at a chair.

  “Sit down.”

  She obeyed.

  “So why did the Dark Tempter send you here?”

  “Why did you agree to the marriage?”

  I smirked.

  “Maybe I wanted someone exotic.”

  “That’s not a satisf
ying answer.”

  “Then why did you tell your father that you wanted to be satisfied with me? Or at least with my answer?” I mocked her.

  She hissed again. Maybe I should dig out a snakepit?

  “He wants the throne...”

  “What a coincidence. So do I.”

  “Then refuse to marry me!”

  “You wish! Who’d refuse such an offer?”

  Lavinia’s face turned gloomy.

  “Then I want to know what you are planning!”

  “To marry you instead of my late cousin,” I chuckled. “So?”

  “You know who I am...”

  “I know.

  “But who are you?”

  “I’ve told you already. A fire mage.”

  “I did try it with mages. They are affected the same as others. So who are you?”

  “You see, sweetie,” I told her, touching her chin, “not all mages are of the same level of strength.”

  Lavinia’s gaze dropped. She hadn’t considered that and had no retorts.

  “But why did you agree to marry me?”

  “I want to be the queen.”

  “Not to mention, free from pressure from your father and His Majesty Mikael, right?”

  Lavinia grew pale.

  “You...know?”

  “Do I look stupid?”

  Judging by her face, I did. Yet she didn’t dare to object, obviously.

  “Whom are you going to feed upon?”

  Lavinia hissed, baring her teeth. I smirked.

  “All right. I will provide you with prisoners, but if you even try to eat somebody else, I will pull out your fangs with pliers. Have I made myself clear?”

  She clearly didn’t take me seriously enough, but was ready to use me.

  “Are you proposing an agreement?”

  “We’ll marry. Most likely, I will become the heir apparent, making you a princess. If you behave, you’ll stay alive and content.”

  Lavinia pouted.

  “And...will you be content as well?”

  Her wandering hand moved down, toward my pants. I deftly grabbed it.

  “You’ll get by.”

  “But...”

  “Or are you still a virgin?”

  She clearly wasn’t, going by her bared fangs. She was angry, but walked the line. That’s the unholy spawn for you; if you show them force, you can control them the way you want. Still, I would have to expect a backstab every moment. Nothing new to me. “We’ll declare the marriage consummated. If you work for me, you’ll get your cut.”

  “Will you make me stay celibate?”

  “We’ll see. Keep in mind that I will force you to undergo examinations, and if I learn you’re with child, I’ll tear it out of you. Got it?”

  She got it, but still didn’t take me seriously. Too bad for him.

  She was simply used to making men do her bidding.

  “As you wish...my love.”

  I smirked.

  “You’re delightful, dear.”

  Lavinia curtsied, smiled, then winced.

  “You could have hit me not so hard, you know. That is bound to leave a bruise.”

  My second slap landed her in the corner.

  “If you lie to me, you will have to grow new fangs. Got it?”

  That earned me a somewhat respectful look. Argadon, why do these women only respect a show of force? Freaks.

  But after Lavinia left, I lay back on the pillows, my mind at ease. I would have enough time to explain to her who the boss was later. Meanwhile, I had to make sure my play wouldn’t get ruined.

  ***

  The show was on.

  Lavinia was playing the part of an anguished bride, and I was the grieving cousin; the duke, a noble father; his wife, a caring mother; Mikael, a strict but just king. The roles were assigned as if in a theater, and I was willing to give anything to rip out the throat of the playwright, or at least some of the actors.

  Tommy eyed all of it warily. For him, the whole thing was really hard. I was a consummate liar, like all half-demons, but he was stumbling, and thus, had to feign disapproval.

  Marrying the fiancée of your late cousin isn’t the most honorable of deeds...

  Of course, they started to press him, even put some countess into his bed. Too bad they didn’t give him money on top of that.

  So, by the end of the tenth day after Andre’s death, we signed two agreements: a marriage contract and a peace treaty. And the first one was a real bargain. We got a huge piece of land, mines, a trade fees discount...I made every effort.

  As for the treaty, it was just an outline. We were supposed to not attack each other anymore. Peace, joy, and happiness! Did I buy it? Yeah, right. I didn’t. And the further away it got, the less I could.

  ***

  The wedding was to take place in Radenor.

  Rudolph had known that and had already sent a messenger, informing us that the king was waiting for us with his son’s body...and the bride.

  But we’ve found the murderer, haven’t we? Of course we have. I was aware of the correspondence.

  Summoning a ghost wasn’t hard, and promising him a proper burial and nice afterlife—even easier. Having done that, I could look with his eyes. He could spy on the duke’s and the king’s diplomatic correspondence and negotiations, and I spent the majority of the night listening to his reports. He could only show the things he had seen himself, after all.

  And I was watching how Mikael wrote to his heir, commanding him to get the army ready to march, how he ordered the duke to prepare a retinue, how he swore at the duke, berating him for letting the assassin escape. How else would we blame the Riolonians now?

  They didn’t have to think long, however. They used the fact that I (presumably) had seen the assassins for just a few seconds and found some poor sod, offering him gold for his family, and he said everything they had asked for during the interrogation.

  Then they executed him, but with good reason. It allowed them to report to Rudolph that the neighbors were plotting against him and to start military preparations.

  I confirmed everything, and even proposed to Lavinia formally—in a ball, kneeling with a rose...

  Hit me with a lamppost, but I would never forget that sight: a white-haired prince, clad all in black due to mourning, knelt before a lovely blonde girl in a white dress with a black scarf on her waist, also on account of mourning, offering her a white rose, his love, and faithfulness until death.

  I wasn’t even lying, I just never clarified whose death I meant. Lavinia accepted the flower, and I stood up and kissed her hand.

  A real fairytale romance!

  ***

  On the flip side, I still had Ivar the assassin, who had finally recovered after the torture and was going to cross the border. Just in case, he had written a confession for me, naming his employer, his employer’s reasons, Ivar’s methods, his weapon, the whole deal. Of course, such confessions weren’t worth much, but it was still something.

  If he was able to reach Radenor, he was to reach the Morinars and wait for me there. I wrote him a recommendation letter for Rene. I assumed that Ivar would read it before crossing the border. He was a very smart guy. Too bad he had once gotten involved with the wrong people.

  There also was Duke Rataver, who was headed for Radenor with a delegation. From the look of things, His Majesty wasn’t going to leave his country just yet. He was gathering an army to take revenge on the scheming Riolonians.

  We’d also prepare our army. Revenge is an honorable business, worthy of a half-demon.

  ***

  That was in Tevarr, however. In Radenor, something else was brewing.

  Judging by Rene’s letter, the Morinars had started to receive a whole stream of pilgrims. As the faction closest to Prince Alex, they were getting friendship offers and some nice things as confirmation, which the duke promptly accepted—entire carts and carriages—explaining to the gift bearers that as a supplicant, he couldn’t promise anything, but he would
definitely let the prince know everything down to the number of nails in each barrel.

  And all of that was redirected to Torrin. Well, most of it, all right. The stuff that could be easily converted into money stayed with the Morinars. Rene wasn’t going to steal a penny...at least, until I allowed that. The Morinars wanted for nothing.

  But what would I need? I wouldn’t have accepted anything either, but I had armies to equip, neighbors to slay, and then, they had stolen so much from the treasury. Let them reimburse it somewhat.

  I could understand the courtiers, I truly could. They had spent so many years faithfully serving Abigail! They had been groveling before the queen, her relatives, her favorites, and what had they gotten? The princess was dead. The prince was dead. Who was the heir?

  Even if Abigail gave birth, would that child get enough time to reach adulthood? Would I let them? Long live His Majesty King Rudolph, but a war with Riollon was coming, and if he rode there, he could die.

  If he didn’t...I would be the one to command the army, and that would have been dangerous as well. The army loved victors, and the throne survived due to the army’s support, at least in part.

  I was going to give it one more crutch—the common people—but that would have to wait until later.

  So at the moment, the courtiers were trying to play both sides, just in case. Living in style was not forbidden, after all.

  Rene’s letters told me everything about that situation. He wrote me in secret, afraid of the messenger getting caught, and I replied to him in tune. I told him to take everything, including the money, as it would come in handy eventually, and not to promise anybody anything—the longer they stayed uncertain, the fatter the bribes would be.

  It’s not like I was greedy, but Torrin was far from enough to save the entire kingdom.

  ***

  As hard as Tevarr was trying to earn my favor, it was as cold as my homeland of Radenor was toward me upon my return. One more scene from a classic tale of chivalry.