Gentleman's Wars: The Rules of Engagement: A Tower Defense LitRPG Series (The Great Game Book 1)

by Andrew Karevik

  Sophia’s calm demeanor and acceptance of this proposal put me at ease. I let out a sigh of relief. “There is just one small matter,” I said. “To actually legitimize her.”

  “Of course, what do you require of us?”

  “We want to declare you married to Eric before he died. It’s a bit of a fib but doing so would allow both you and your daughter to become a part of this family. You could stay here if you like. Draw a salary and do whatever work you find interests you. Even go to school if that—”

  “You want to declare that son of a bitch to be my husband?” Sophia growled, standing up immediately. She quivered with a great anger. “That good for nothing, low-life scumbag who led me on for years, promising me he’d marry me as soon as he made knight, only for me to find out he had been knighted years before?”

  “He is…erm…dead, “I said. “It’s really for your benefit, not his.”

  “I will die before I ever let the heavens, or the Stars know that I am his bride. He took my love and betrayed my loyalty,” Sophia shouted. Her voice was so loud that one of the servants cracked the door open to check if anyone was being attacked. He quickly shut the door once he realized it was Sophia the one shouting at me. “He gave me a beautiful daughter and wanted nothing to do with either of us! And why? Because he wanted to marry into his station. Because he wanted to marry someone with money and power. Didn’t mind fucking me, mind you, but marrying someone like me? Oh, Stars forbid!”

  This rant went on much longer than I had expected. She had been so cordial seconds ago, but the suggestion of a posthumous marriage declaration drove her into a frenzy. She ranted and raved at me, screaming all sorts of sordid details that I absolutely did not want to know about my brother. From his habits in bed, to his constant lies, to the time he actually gave her a fixed date of when he would propose, Sophia recounted it all in a furious, rage-filled tirade.

  I frankly did not know what to do. I knew from limited experience that it was poor form to try and tell anyone to calm down while they were screaming, and after a while I realized that she wasn’t so much screaming at me as she was at Eric, the man whom she would never see again. So I merely sat on the couch, staring at her with eyes wide in horror, soaking in every lurid detail about my brother’s relationship with the woman.

  Eventually, Sophia ran out of breath or curses to utter about Eric. She sank back down into her couch, red-faced and panting.

  “I did not know my brother,” I said quietly, trying to avoid another outburst. I took a sip of tea while she tried to compose herself. “He was born well before me and when I was just a child, he was out on the field, serving the Crown by the time he was fourteen. Normally they don’t let young teenagers serve, but he lied about his age. Lived the dream as an adventurer and a warrior, I guess. But I never really knew him beyond the few times he would stop by, bringing presents and stories.”

  “Well, you should know that Eric was not a good man,” Sophia said with a huff, still trying to come down from her outburst. “He put me through an unimaginable amount of pain.” She paused and sniffled. “I never asked to go with him. Never demanded to live in the castle or move my entire life. I didn’t want status or his money. I just wanted him. If he had moved to our village, I would have been happy living in obscurity for the rest of my life. And…I find myself asking, day after day, month after month, why was I good enough for him to always return to, but not good enough for him to want to keep me?”

  “I don’t know what to tell you, Sophia. But…he’s gone. And it’s painful for me to think that I’ll never get to know him more. Even if he was an utter fiend, like you say, I would have still wished to learn that about him. And maybe he would have come to his senses. You know? Maybe he would have come back to you if he hadn’t been cut down.”

  A flash came across the woman’s face, an expression that softened at those words, but she quickly resumed her scowl. As if actively trying to hide her true feelings. The anger inside of her was burning so hot…I wondered something. Perhaps it was risky, but I asked a question. “Would you have taken him back if he returned and proposed?”

  “Yes,” she confessed, staring down at the ground. “And I hate myself so much for knowing that I would say yes. That’d I’d forget everything he had done in a heartbeat, if it meant I could have him for good.”

  “Well…you’ll never have that opportunity, Sophia. Because my brother is dead. He did wrong by you his entire life. I’m not saying this will fix what has happened to you. It won’t make all the pain go away…but you’ll at least have something. Accepting the marriage posthumously will give you and your daughter a ticket into the life of nobility. You can move here and do as you please.” I paused and swallowed. “I can even find you a husband. If you want.”

  “What I want,” she repeated, looking up at me. “I can never have. But you’re right. This won’t heal my heart, yet it’ll give my daughter a better path.”

  “I promise to take care of you both,” I said. “You’ll become my family. And I’ll never stop looking out for either of you.”

  Sophia lowered her head in defeat. “I’ll leave it up to Avaline. If you can convince her to join your estate…I’ll sign the marriage certificate. But please, don’t try to play matchmaker with me. I think I’d be better suited as a widow than anything else.”

  Chapter 21

  “A loan? Most industrious, Master Richard,” Sigmund said as he followed me to my office.

  “You approve?” I asked.

  “A Gentleman should never ask his subordinates for their approval when he has already made his decision, lest you appear to be indecisive and as they say in the vulgar tongue, ‘wishy washy’,” Sigmund lectured. He had only been gone for a short time, but honestly, I had missed his lecturing and constant corrections in my behavior.

  I waved a hand at that advice. “Whatever. I’ve got the funds to build turrets and towers, but we’re still short on mana crystals. I nearly lost the Vineyard to that wretched old Frankinson man.”

  “You mean Eustace? Man is a veteran, you know. You should show him some respect,” my butler chided as we entered my office. A bevy of maids were busy cleaning the entire room from top to bottom. The moment I entered, they all stopped and snapped to attention.

  “Carry on,” I said, trying not to blush at their attention. The estate staff had always been in the background to me; I ignored them and they paid no mind to me unless I made a request. Now we were always acutely aware of one another. I wasn’t sure if I quite liked the constant attention, to be honest.

  The maids resumed their work, scrubbing the floors, polishing the brass armchairs and washing the windows. I sank into one of the large leather chairs sitting by the fireplace. Before I could even reach a hand up to grab a glass from the little bar cart sitting next to me, one of the maids, Amy, had uncorked my favorite brandy and poured it straight into one of the glasses. Without missing a beat, she handed me the liquor and then resumed scrubbing the floors, wordlessly.

  “That’s a good sign,” Sigmund said as he poured his own drink.

  “What is?”

  “Miss Amy was not required to serve you drinks,” the butler explained as we clinked our glasses together in a little toast. “It was a sign of respect. The staff seems pleased with how you’re running things in the estate.”

  “Kudos then to Lily,” I mumbled. “For I’m not running anything here.”

  The scowl from my butler told me all I needed to know. Of course, I was the one in charge of the estate and in charge of hiring people to work in the estate, so truly, I was running the household, even when it was clearly my Head Maid who was doing all the work. Whatever.

  “Anyway, to return to the subject at hand. I have silver and Fire Spice. But we need mana crystals, and in steady supply. Trade is fine for short term gains, but I’m not crazy about being dependent on others for survival. I’ve been flipping through this primer but can’t really find anything of note i
n regards to getting new territories.”

  My butler grinned at me, his wrinkled face smiling wide. I could see that same spark of excitement in his eyes, the one that had led him to bring me into this whole game to begin with. “The acquisition of territory is not an easy one. But there are several ways we can get our hands on a new patch of land,” he explained. “First, we could invade someone and take theirs. Inadvisable due to our current position of being small, weak and dangerously low on mana crystals.”

  “Right, and frankly if possible, I’d rather avoid ever having to invade anyone. Seems like ghoulish business, and one that only creates more problems than it solves,” I said.

  “I can agree there. We should only take offensive actions when in a defensive war. And I don’t mean in a struggle, I mean a true honest to Polaris war with another House,” Sigmund said. He sipped his drink thoughtfully. “Anyway, the second way to get a territory would be to gain a claim to the land in question.”

  “We can do this through marriage, right?”

  “Marriage, genealogy, or uncovering falsified claims, thus endangering ownership invalid in the eyes of the Crown,” Sigmund explained. “Who’s to say that your grandfather didn’t inherit a title he never heard of? You’d be surprised how many times a man or woman has a rightful claim to property, only to be unaware. It’s usually in the landowner’s best interest to keep people ignorant of such things. But we’d need to hire someone to manage claims for us. Someone savvy and sharp, ruthless in their execution and loyal to our household.”

  “I’m guessing we won’t put out an ad in the Velecian Gazette, eh?” I asked.

  “No, it’s not that simple. You’ll need to attract a claims advisor through prestige. Winning wars, gaining rank, those will eventually bring us some top notch advisors. Once you hit License Level 1, you can make some hires.”

  I nodded at that. “I see. Any other options for gaining a territory? Maybe one that wouldn’t take us a few months to achieve?”

  “You could always buy some land. Not everyone is after silver. Spend some time on the political map in the Grid and figure out if there are any nearby lands that could be up for sale.”

  Political map? I suppressed my expression, trying not to give away that I hadn’t seen such a thing.

  “Of course, I’ll look it over at once,” I said.

  “Excellent. I will leave you to your study of the map. Your niece is still unwinding from the long trip. She should be prepared to visit you in the evening.”

  Right. Avaline. I still needed to convince her to get married to some stranger on the House’s behalf. A little fright rushed through me at the immediacy of the conversation.

  “Come now,” Sigmund said as he stood, patting me on the shoulder. “You’ll do fine.”

  “Am I that easy to read?”

  “Well, you went white as a ghost the moment I mentioned her. Don’t worry. The girl appears to be quite taken with our estate. Remember, she is a peasant. Until today, she had never even seen the inside of a house with more than two rooms.”

  And with that, my manservant left me to browse the Grid. I quickly opened up the great map and searched for a political map feature. Sure enough, there was an option to change the landscape to Political Mode.

  Selecting the option transformed the topographical map. The land faded away, simply becoming replaced with thick colors of all different types. Across each piece of land were descriptors of those who owned them and their status within the hierarchy of the Crown. I could see the great brown blob known as the Duchy of Lexton covering half of the western part of Velicia. Most other territories were much smaller than the Duchy, being either Baronies or Gentries.

  A few small pieces of territory around my own orange border were of different colors but had no special titles to them. They did not belong to the nobility at all. This was, of course, possible, for though all nobles were land owners, not all land owners were nobles. Sometimes a knight may earn his patch of land for serving in the war, or an industrious servant of the Crown may gain a retirement package including a small farm to work. These people were probably the safest in the entire country, since war was officially over. They could tend to their land in peace for all eternity.

  Four territories were owned by Small Powers (as they were often called somewhat derisively by true nobility), all connected to my own land. The Political Grid not only gave me the names of the land owners, but also a small synopsis of who they were. Quite handy to have!

  The Prachette Farms

  Known Alliances: None

  Known Enemies: None

  Controlled by the accomplished Knight Lawrence Prachette, the farms produce a small amount of sugar beets that are then distilled into vodka for sale.

  Tegrino Estate

  Known Alliances: None

  Known Enemies: None

  The Tegrino family owns this small tract of land and manor due to their patriarch’s service in the Gulvin War, performing acts of espionage and sabotage in exchange for land and safety from their home country across the Ethenium Border.

  Observation Monastery

  Known Alliances: The Crown

  Known Enemies: None

  The Observation Monastery is home to a religious order tasked with observation of the stars. Their independence is guaranteed by the Crown itself.

  Henshaw Ranches

  Known Alliances: None

  Known Enemies: The Frankinson Gentry

  Gurlick Henshaw operates a small horse ranch that specializes in raising race horses. Their earnings from working beneath the Frankinson Family for two decades allowed them to purchase excess land from the Crown and declare their own independence, causing friction between the two parties.

  Quite the list. Out of the four, three were potential acquisitions. The Observatory was clearly out, for I was not one about to interfere with a religious order. But the other lands all seemed interesting. Perhaps Henshaw would be interested in joining my efforts since I was clearly no friend of the Frankinsons, at least not without a marriage. But if Avaline should prove eager to wed, the Henshaws might reconsider working with us.

  That left either the Prachette Farms, home to a knight who earned the favor of the Queen to own land, and a family of spies who betrayed their home country across the Ethenium Border in order to gain freedom here. Truthfully, I was wary of talking to spies who betrayed their homelands. If they had done so once, who was to say they wouldn’t do so again? I had nothing against foreigners, mind you, but treachery was hard to forgive in all cultures. Truly there were few crimes greater than betrayal.

  So I guess my first stop would be to see the Knight Prachette. At the very least, I’d be able to try out some of that vodka they made. That would certainly make the trip worthwhile!

  Chapter 22

  As I sat at my desk, gas lamp beside me hissing softly, I scribbled out a basic plan of approach to see the Knight. “We’re not taking his land; he’s expanding his authority…” I mumbled. Presenting the purchase offer as a form of employment as opposed to simply a transaction where he’d be left homeless would be the ideal solution.

  There came a knock on my door, and I looked up to see Lily meekly opening the door. I found myself brightening considerably at the sight of her face. “Master, are you ready to meet your niece?”

  I nodded, straightening up in my chair. I tried to move a few papers around to make the desk look less cluttered, but that only seemed to cause more of a mess. Lily opened the door the whole way, allowing for Miss Avaline to enter.

  I found myself gasping at the sight of the girl. She had Eric’s nose, plain and simple. It was not a particularly long or short nose, perhaps one of average length, but by the Stars, it was undoubtedly the product of my brother’s genes running through her. She was indeed his daughter. There was no mistake of that.

  “U-uncle Richard?” the girl meekly asked as she shuffled up, hands clasped together. She was still wearing her peas
ant clothes, the same kind of brown dress as her mother, and seemed quite nervous. Her long chestnut hair ran down her shoulders and she slouched in the same manner that Eric used to whenever he was asked about settling down by our uncle.

  “Avaline?” I asked, standing to my feet. I started a little towards her, perhaps to greet her with a hug, but realized that might be too forward, since we were still complete strangers. She too matched my speed, but hesitated, leading us to a rather awkward handshake, one that neither party seemed to be comfortable with.

  “Please, sit. Lily if you would bring—” My words were interrupted by the rattling of a cart as Lily wheeled in a silver tray full of food and beverages. A great jug of wine sat in the center of the table. Thank goodness, booze would certainly loosen us both up here.

  We both took our seats and waited for Lily to serve us. I tried my best not to stare, but the resemblance to my late brother was unmistakable. Avaline noticed this and nervously twirled her hair, trying to avoid my scrutiny. As soon as our silver goblets were filled with wine, we both found ourselves drinking quite quickly.

  “Calm down,” Lily hissed in my ear. “You’re making her nervous.”

  I swallowed the rest of my beverage and took a deep breath. “So, Avaline. I know you have a lot of questions about why you’re here. I want to cut straight to the chase. Your father, my brother, did you a great wrong in his life. One that he was never able to right before he was taken from us.”

  Avaline nodded, slouching in her chair, hands still clasping the goblet. She said nothing. I continued. “By all rights, you should be a Blake. Your mother wished for my brother to wed her and he promised such things, though falsely. He provided for you both financially and lived with you at times when there was no conflict for him to participate in. By all rights, you are his family.”