“My job went about as well as everything else planned,” Gareth said with a wry smile. “How did your war pan out? Oh, that’s right. There isn’t a war anymore. What will your movement do now? What do you call yourself? Nationalists? Ha, what a name.”
Tharban’s eyes turned into embers. Nurevia waited for the inevitable clash. The two of them had already brawled before the Diet, after the assassination attempt on Anna failed.
But Tharban pulled himself back. He spat on the dirty floor.
“Don’t talk about shit you don’t understand,” he said. “What happened to the second attempt? I told you about their fucking picnic. Hell, you even got word about the visit to that dumb church.”
Gareth remained still for several long moments, before saying, “You didn’t tell me about the duogems he had.”
“They’re not his. That shithead Leopold classified everything relating to my little shit. The duogems are loaners. Leopold’s bitches, still draining out from the old man’s visits.”
Gareth rolled his eyes at Tharban’s words. “Let’s pretend that I believe you. Actually, let’s not. If those duogems aren’t Nathan’s, then they are the best actors ever. Not to mention that his magic is all over them.”
Tharban flat out ignored Gareth.
“So insecure.” Falmir’s Bastion chuckled. “That doesn’t change the fact you didn’t warn me. I didn’t move on the church because he had two duogems with him. And the picnic…” Gareth shook his head. “I’m a nobody. Some shitty little Bastion who got sent here because if I’m caught, it’s easy for Falmir to claim that I went rogue. That’s how little you matter. You got my crappy assistance. But Nathan—”
“Don’t you fucking dare,” Tharban growled, taking a step forward.
“Like you, I was at Kurai. I felt the Messenger,” Gareth said. “All of us did.”
Tharban froze. “Those are rumors—”
Gareth’s eyes flicked to Nurevia, then back to Tharban. “I’m not talking about the cascade. Unlike you, I’m a sorcerer. It’s the one thing I hold pride in. And let me tell you—Nathan knows things I would sell my soul to know.”
Nurevia stared at him.
Gareth was talking about Nathan, wasn’t he? The adorable little count who had dabbled with sorcery for years while running Tharban’s county? Where could he possibly learn that sort of thing? The academy didn’t teach it.
Who had Nathan met after being disowned by Tharban? Nurevia found herself imagining amazing things about the year that Nathan had spent without her.
By the time she came back to reality, the meeting had moved on.
“You’re going back?” Tharban asked.
“No reason for me to stay here. Those catgirl spies are sniffing around, and they have a massive hound I don’t want to mess with.” Gareth grimaced. “Your Spymaster is a mean one.”
Tharban grunted. “Not that smart, though. He bought the bullshit and doesn’t think I was involved.”
“Maybe that’s just what he wants you to think,” Gareth said with a smirk.
He stood up and stretched. “Whatever the case, I’m gone. I have a bed at home that needs sleeping in and a portal to protect. This has been a colossal waste of time for everyone, save for learning that there’s some insanely talented people lurking on Doumahr.”
Nurevia swore that Tharban was going to clobber Gareth for that remark. Or try, given Gareth knew how to fight. Despite looking like a twig, he was still a Bastion.
Nothing happened. After Gareth and his Champion left, Tharban swept out of the basement and into a waiting carriage two blocks away. Nurevia went with him.
They rode in silence for some time.
“We’re leaving the city?” she asked in surprise. “What about the apartment?”
“I’m a count. I have people to clean it and take our things back for us,” Tharban grunted out.
He leaned his chin on one burly hand, glaring out the window at nothing. Like most carriages, it was enchanted to only allow people to see out.
“Well, now that the war’s over, what do we do?” Nurevia asked, half-teasing, half-serious.
A smirk crossed his face as he looked at her. Then it turned into a leer as he looked her up and down. His eyes latched onto her barely covered dark tits, then her crotch. Everything about his expression made it clear that he thought about her as nothing other than a piece of meat—sexualized meat.
Normally, this would be the point where her body would heat up. She had always loved the way he treated her and looked at her.
But she had lost the will to even feign interest now. She stared blankly back at Tharban until he grunted and looked away.
“You didn’t believe his stupid shit, did you?” Tharban spat.
“What?”
“The end of war is good for us. If we’re up there fighting, we can’t be down here preparing to take the throne.” He rolled his eyes, as if that was obvious. “A bunch of soldiers have been up north, fighting, bleeding, and dying for years. In the end, the Emperor says that it doesn’t matter and brings them all back. They return home, only to find a bunch of foreigners overrunning the Diet and beastkin getting uppity.”
Tharban laughed. “It’s perfect for us.”
The carriage trundled out of the city. Slowly, Nurevia allowed the truth of what Tharban had said to sink in.
“What about the Federation?” she asked, trying to piece things together and resolve her confusion.
“That wasn’t supposed to happen,” he grumbled. “I don’t know how those old fucks pulled it off. We pulled out all the stops. No extra military support. Leopold was the only Bastion, other than the little shit. Even asked Falmir to make sure things stayed bad.”
A pit formed in Nurevia’s stomach. “Falmir leaked everything about Alice. That’s how the Federation knew where she was.”
She hadn’t told Tharban a damn word about Alice. Betraying an Imperial Princess was a step she refused to take. Alice had trusted her. That she had become the prime suspect for leaking Alice’s location had hurt.
“Hah. They did that? Damn, guess they really did hold up their end of the bargain. Shame they still fucked it up. Figured a cascade would make it easy for them to lop off both bitches’ heads and call it an accident.” Tharban sneered.
That had nearly happened.
Nurevia briefly wondered how bad things would be if Falmir had actually killed both Alice and Anna. She remembered the confrontation between Nathan and Tharban, and how easily Nathan had brushed his father off.
Then she reimagined it, except Nathan tore Tharban apart with his bare hands. That felt right to her. He kept his cool to a frightening degree when she saw him. But she had seen the fury in his eyes when Tharban had disowned him and humiliated him.
That fury had reappeared briefly when Tharban confronted him, but Nathan had suppressed it. Nurevia wanted to see Nathan’s raw, unrestrained anger, in all its violent glory.
“So? What are we doing then?” she asked.
“Building support,” Tharban said. “I want to head into the Federation, as I don’t know what those chucklefucks are like. The archdukes are predictable. But these new dukes aren’t.”
“So that’s it? We’re going east?”
“Fuck no,” he said. “They’d be all over me if I went there. I need a reason.” He pointed a massive finger at her. “And you’re going to give me one. Once we’re back, head to the Spires. You know people there, little miss Champion. I have a contact you can speak with to arrange something.”
“Did he cause the cascade?” Nurevia asked, narrowing her eyes.
Tharban exploded upward. The entire carriage shook due to his weight. Violence poured off the man as he ripped Nurevia from her seat and cocked a huge fist. His eyes glared at her, veins bulging from his neck.
“Did he fucking tell you that? Did that little shit say that I was a fucking heretic? Did he!?” Tharban roared, his voice loud enough to cause her ears to ring.
Her eyes l
atched onto his fist. Her body reacted to the sensation of imminent violence. She sighed with pleasure, eyes curving as she relaxed and prepared for him to strike her. Her bones would crack, her blood vessels burst, and she’d be slammed into the carriage. Maybe he’d keep going if he really lost himself, and she wouldn’t be able to be healed until they reached his county.
Moments passed.
Tharban sneered at her. “You fucking slut.” He spat on her.
Then he threw her backward. She slammed into the seat, but the worst it did was cause a small ache in her back.
After he sat back down, he glowered at the window again. “I am a devout follower of Omria. Whatever that little shit says, I will never cause a cascade.”
But he probably had something to do with the people who did, Nurevia realized. Word had reached her that doubt was being raised over Torneus’s involvement in the cascade. If Tharban hadn’t caused it, that left only two real possibilities.
Betrayal within the Spires themselves, or sabotage by Falmir. The latter left Tharban with few excuses about his devotion to the goddess.
“Why am I going to the Spires?” she asked, once she calmed down.
“The Houkeem Desert. The Empire is strong enough to protect its own damn borders. We don’t need your subservient asses to do it for us.” He snorted. “Once they pull out, I’ll transfer to the border to protect it. Once there, I can investigate the local situation.”
And convince a lot of people that the real enemy were the beastkin, Nurevia thought.
Despite her misgivings, she had her mission. She remained Tharban’s Champion.
Unfortunately, being told to do something didn’t give her the magical ability to bypass fundamental laws of reality. She had left the Spires long ago, when she had chosen her life under Tharban. The only way they’d welcome her back would be in chains or mounted on a spit.
And not even the fun kind of spit.
Fortunately, she had her own contact. Tharban’s was utterly useless, as he was some dumb functionary in the central Jormun spire. Probably some useless advisor to one of the council members.
Nurevia reached out to her contact. The reply was swifter than expected. They had been in contact lately, but only for idle gossip. The speed of the response suggested that Nurevia had a good shot of getting into the Spires.
She organized the meeting and headed out. Once she left, she’d be free of Tharban for weeks, if not months.
A small part of her suggested that it could be forever. A certain someone had been recruiting Champions from other Bastions, after all.
The meeting place was a tavern in a mining town close to the Spires. The dark elves controlled part of Forselle Valley near the Spires, although they didn’t do anything with the land. It was one of the most important trade routes in Doumahr as a result, as no nation could block passage.
The mining town here was independent, although it paid taxes to the Spires. Most dark elves hated the sun, so trying to rule territory was too much effort. Nurevia had been shocked when the Spires had intervened in the war between the Federation and the Empire.
She sat at a bar. A thin purple scarf covered her amethysts, although she wore black cloth over them as well, just in case she lost the scarf. Revealing herself to be a Champion out here was dangerous.
To the locals, the only dark elf Champions roaming around outside were hunters. And hunters generally meant death.
Nurevia attracted a few looks. Most were interested in her assets. A few were not. Nobody approached her. She bought some crappy mulled wine and took a seat in the corner.
Almost to the minute, her contact walked in. She dressed like Nurevia, although with fewer weapons. Lots of curvy, dark skin showing. Shoulder-length white hair. Dark leather gloves and boots. A scarf covering her neck and collarbone. Every eye in the tavern followed her, and most stared at her ass, which was barely covered by the leather cloth she wore over her crotch.
To Nurevia, the part that mattered most were her piercing green eyes. Astra’s eyes carried the weight of centuries in them.
“Why are you scheming?” Astra asked as she sat down opposite Nurevia. She spoke in the native tongue of the dark elves.
One of the bar staff came up and took her order. Nurevia was pretty sure that wasn’t supposed to happen. She was doubly sure most customers were expected to pay for their drinks, and Astra appeared to receive her goblet of mulled wine for free.
Astra was the trigem Champion of the Aurelian Spires.
She had also trained Nurevia as a Champion, among other things.
“Why do you think I’m scheming?” Nurevia whined.
“Usually you just brag or gossip.” Astra kicked her feet up. “It’s been fun lately. You bore me most days.”
“You used to keep me up late to show me your sex toy collection,” Nurevia replied.
Astra stared at her. She coughed. “Spoken with Nathan recently?”
“Not about that.”
“Recently?”
“Ever. I’m not going to tell him about your magic dildos.” Nurevia rolled her eyes when Astra frowned. “Holy shit. Is that why you responded so fast? You want to take little Nathan out for a joy ride? He’s grown a spine lately and apparently learned how to make every beastkin on Doumahr cream themselves on command, but damn. Never thought you’d stoop this low.”
“Don’t fuck with me,” Astra growled as she leaned forward. Her tits knocked her wine over. “Dammit.”
A few minutes later, they resumed. The goblet had been replaced, and the spill cleaned up. This time, she paid for her wine. Her spell had worn off.
Astra looked around, then lowered her voice. “He fought a Messenger.”
“So did I,” Nurevia whined.
A roll of the eyes was her reply. Bitch.
“You’re the second person recently to freak out about him,” Nurevia said. She clicked her tongue. “Is it really that big of a deal?”
“Yes,” Astra said flatly. “Second?”
“Another Bastion talked up Nathan’s sorcery. Which doesn’t make sense, given he barely messed around with it before became a Bastion.” Nurevia downed her wine and tried to flag down somebody for more, but was ignored. Astra succeeded in her place. “Is there sorcery so amazing that you could feel it and basically shit your pants forever?”
“Yes,” Astra said with a broad smile. “You’re selling him hard.”
“I don’t fucking get you.” The younger dark elf scratched her neck beneath her scarf, feeling uncomfortable. “Don’t you like being on top? I want Nathan because he’s hot shit, and I think he’s going to explode and turn Tharban into a pancake in the middle of Aleich. Maybe he’ll do some fun shit to me in bed. But what do you get out of being turned inside out by his manmeat?”
Astra rolled her eyes. “Don’t worry about me. Enjoy your youth.”
Such a bitch. Nothing ever changed.
“So, what do you want?” Astra asked again.
“I need to meet some apparatchik in the Jormun spire.”
Astra narrowed her eyes. “Not a good time. Trial starting soon.”
“That’s for the crazy old man, right? Torneus?” Something clicked in Nurevia’s mind. “I know something you want to know about that.”
“You already told me everything.”
“Oh, no. It’s not about him. It’s about the man you want to rail the shit out of you.”
Given Astra didn’t deny it, Nurevia took that as a win.
“If you like the info, I want access to the Spires,” she said.
“You won’t get what you want.” Astra shook her head. “But fine. Access. Nothing more.”
“The Emperor is sending Nathan in his place to the trial,” Nurevia said.
Astra froze. Her eyes widened. Even her breathing stopped.
If Nurevia imagined it, she felt she could smell something. But that was being mean. She didn’t even know what Astra wanted from Nathan.
Given the trigem’s predilection
s, she might just want to fight Nathan. There were stories that Astra once bathed in the blood of hundreds of rebels that she executed.
Then again, the stories about Astra suggested she built the damn Spires brick by brick, or that she single-handedly chased the faeries out. She was old, and people created dumb stories about her all the time to amuse themselves.
“I will help you,” Astra said. She sighed. “But you will regret it. He will bring trouble.”
Nurevia stared at Astra. Then she smiled. “Oh? The trial is that soon? Even better. I’ve been looking forward to some one-on-one time with Nathan.”
Chapter 14
Nathan left Aleich a few days after the Diet session ended. Little of consequence happened. While the palace was no longer overrun by nobles, Alice found herself flooded with paperwork from the aftermath.
Aleich was the nerve center of much of the Empire’s bureaucracy. All the changes to law, policy, and tax flowed from the palace. The Emperor focused his personal efforts on the peace treaty and recalling the Imperial Army, leaving Alice to handle the countless other affairs.
Nathan felt that the Emperor’s strategy was a little on the nose. By handling the peace treaty himself, the Emperor became a lightning rod for negativity from the Nationalists. While many welcomed peace, plenty didn’t.
At the same time, Alice had plenty of time to integrate herself into the workings of the Empire. Countless nobles, Bastions, Champions, officials, and military officers would meet the Imperial princess. The meetings would be boring. But Alice was a beautiful woman with a sharp mind, and she would leave a strong impression on a lot of people she needed support from in the future.
That helped Nathan and Alice’s plans to ingratiate her to as many nobles as possible, while keeping negative attention away from her.
“You say it’s ‘a little on the nose’, but I hadn’t realized it,” Anna grumbled as they stopped at her manor in Trantia, the capital of her former county. “One day you’ll stop saying you’re bad at politics and I’ll be out of a job.”
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