Chapter 26
“Given I hold all the cards, I don’t see why I should renegotiate,” Rys said. “But I’ll humor you.”
Alsia seized the opportunity to taste her wine. It was a lighter red, and the grapes were supposedly grown locally.
Her nose screwed up as she gave the drink a sniff, and she nearly lowered the glass. Then she saw Rys out of the corner of her eye. Her expression smoothed out, and she forced herself to try the wine. Her reaction to tasting it wasn’t much better.
“I take it you’re not a drinker,” Rys said.
Alsia washed down the wine with some tea, before making herself another cup with extra sugar. Her frazzled expression made for a nice change from earlier.
“I’ve been told that alcohol is an acquired taste,” she muttered. “Until now, I’ve avoided it in order to maintain a clear mind.”
Oh, the things this little demihuman might do when she got plastered for the first time. Rys felt that somebody had handed him an early birthday present. Alsia was going to be a bundle of fun.
“Well?” Rys pressed.
Her lips thinned into a line. “I will act as your regent and servant in almost all matters. I have only two caveats.”
“I’m assuming they’re important ones.” They’d have to be, as what Alsia was offering was arguably worse than the original deal.
“First, I won’t help you harm my people. My intentions for serving you are clear, and I will not betray those,” Alsia said. “Second, while I am happy to serve you in…” Her face turned red enough that it could have passed for a tomato, and she licked her lips nervously. “Martial matters or similarly intimate conduct, I will not surrender myself to others.”
“I don’t have any plans to sell you off to the highest bidder, so that works out for both of us,” Rys said drily. “I take it there’s a reason you’re concerned about that?”
Alsia stared at him. “I am one of few draconic Kinadain on the island, a Sage, the sister of Barul Sword-Slayer, and the most powerful elder of the region’s dains. Discussions have already taken place regarding…” She looked down, embarrassment preventing her from continuing.
Rys drained his wine and poured another glass. Afterward, he stood and gestured for her to follow him. The night wasn’t exactly cool, but some fresh air might do Alsia some good.
A small, fenced garden sat just outside the room, with only a few plants. Fara took care of them to pass the time and liked to meditate out here. The weather was pleasant, given it was only mid-spring, and Rys led Alsia to the edge of the garden.
Amusingly, Alsia brought the teapot with her. She used magic to levitate everything she needed to make additional cups of tea and carefully balanced them on the fence posts.
“So, you’re being pressed about marriage,” Rys said.
Alsia nodded. “As a start.”
“Ah. Then it’s safe to say that I’ll be having the last word in that,” he said. “I don’t know if it’s normal to try to marry you off and make you produce children the moment you become elder, but I only got my hands on you. I’d like to see what you can do as elder before anybody thinks they can hide you away in their bedroom.”
“And what of your interests, Lord Talarys?” Alsia asked. Despite her cherry-like appearance, she managed to look him in the eyes. “I know Maria desires you. What of this Fara I heard about?”
“I’d spend less time worrying about other women,” Rys said gently. “I certainly don’t have any plans to marry, if that’s what you’re asking about.”
Alsia frowned. “But you aren’t interested in me or my bloodline?”
“We just met. And you’ll have to explain why your bloodline is so special. I don’t even know what a draconic Kinadain is.” Rys tried not to laugh, as she seemed genuinely confused that he wasn’t claiming her as his own.
Well, he actually was. But unlike the Kinadain, he already had her in the palm of his hand. He could afford to leave her to her own devices. Alsia felt like a blooming flower—beautiful to look at now, but she had room to grow.
“You don’t know?” Alsia tilted her head to one side. “Of the three common varieties of demihumans, draconic are the rarest. Outside of Gorgria, there are only a handful of families as we often become common horned demihuman. We pride ourselves on our powerful magical abilities, both spiritual and sorcerous.”
Common horned, huh?
Alsia continued, sensing his interest, “The horned are common on Kavolara and Gorgria, but less common elsewhere. They have the highest physical abilities of all demihumans, but poor magical aptitudes. By contrast, the wolfkin dominate demihuman populations elsewhere in the archipelago. They make the best sorcerers and have superior speed and strength.”
“So, the draconic make the best spellblades, spiritualists, and good mages. Horned are soldiers and workers. Wolfkin are mages and knights,” Rys summarized. “To generalize.”
“That’s largely correct. The Slayers and Saints are more unique, of course,” Alsia said, then paused.
Rys sensed that Alsia had something more to say, but she chose not to voice it.
For now, he let her keep it to herself. He’d learned enough as it was and had little reason to interfere with the Kinadain.
“That makes you a potentially powerful mage. Hanna mentioned you were a Saint candidate,” Rys said.
“I… was,” Alsia said. “It is hard to say whether that is still the case given my current situation.”
“Not the question I’m asking. You can fight?” Rys asked, being more direct this time.
“Oh. Yes.” Alsia nodded enthusiastically. Beneath her coat, Rys saw something move.
As if spotting where his attention was, Alsia poked a long scaly tail from beneath her coat. A moment later, it ducked away again.
“I was trained as a warrior until I was twelve,” Alsia said, pretending that showing Rys her tail was as natural as breathing. “Once my talent for evocation was discovered, I trained as a spellblade. My parents hoped that I would become a Slayer, like my brother.”
“Your parents,” Rys repeated slowly.
“They passed a few years ago,” Alsia said. “They were both hunters, and there was an incident in the Labyrinth.”
Rys nodded and gestured for Alsia to continue. She looked at him oddly, but did so.
“During a visit by the Fire Saint, my talent for evocation was recognized, and I was directed to train as a Sage.” Alsia looked up at the starry sky, as if searching for something. “For a brief time, I trained under Sage Hanna, as she knows a lot about magical theory. Then the elders drove her out and began training me personally.”
“Were they any good at it?” Rys asked, amused at the idea of those old men trying to train a mage.
“No. In fact, I already knew more than they did about sorcery. But they taught me a lot about leadership.” Alsia’s expression darkened. “They believed that I could be their tool. I let them believe that and kept up my training through occasional visits to Dalyros.”
A flicker of movement. Rys knocked a tiny throwing knife out of the air, then grabbed Alsia’s arm. Without much effort, he dispelled the magical energy she had gathered.
She winced, but didn’t resist as he held her against him.
“I know you were only demonstrating, but assassination attempts are in poor taste,” Rys said. He let her go, and she rubbed her wrist. “You don’t have the talent for it, either. Why choose a physical method when your strength is magic? Blow a hole in your target’s chest with a magical lance.”
“I didn’t think that would be very wise,” Alsia said drily. “You might not overlook something that might actually kill you.”
“You’re assuming you can kill me.” Rys smirked at her. “Let’s head back inside.”
A small pile of papers sat on the table now. Rys sat in front of them and pointedly ignored them, despite Alsia’s questioning gaze. She twisted her head, trying to read the words from her side of the table.
“Is that some sort of contract?” she asked, her eyes racing back and forth.
Rys’s eyebrows shot up. “Good eyes. It is. But before that, I have a question for you. Did you notice anything interesting in the mansion?”
Alsia looked at him, her head still turned on its side. After several long seconds, she straightened up. “Such as?”
“It’s an open question for a reason, Alsia.”
A slow nod. “Your servants dress strangely. I had expected them to wear a uniform.”
“Is that all you noticed in the mansion?” Rys asked, pressing for an answer.
Alsia remained silent and instead sipped her tea. One of her fingers traced the lip of her full wine glass. Her gaze appeared to be considering it, but Rys suspected she was trying to avoid looking at him.
“The servants are Lilim, a type of devil,” Rys said, watching carefully for a response.
Just in case.
Alsia kept her composure and finally met his eyes. Something flashed inside them—approval, he thought.
Probably a good thing he hadn’t mentioned that Lilim were a type of succubi. As amusing as Alsia’s flustered reaction would have been, this was better.
“So my brother was right. You are a monster,” Alsia said.
“Not the words I expected to hear given the look in your eyes.” Rys smirked.
“Maria hinted you were something more, hence her desire for you. And I already knew,” Alsia said. “I’ve been trained in how to detect infernals. My brother taught me. I’m surprised he didn’t realize.”
“The only infernal he met was under a very powerful illusion. You’ve met him yourself,” Rys pointed out.
Alsia blinked. “Captain Grigor?” she sounded genuinely surprised. “I guess his large stature appeared inhumanly large.”
“He’s far larger as a demon,” Rys said. “But you want to work with me in spite of this?”
“How you gathered your power doesn’t change. It does… raise complications in one particular area, but we can discuss that should it matter,” Alsia said, her face reddening.
He had a feeling that “particular area” was a sexual one.
“And above all else, your honesty is refreshing,” Alsia said.
Rys tapped the contract in front of him. She stared at it, her expression making it clear that she didn’t understand what it meant.
Sighing, Rys decided on a different tack.
“Tell me, will you give me your word that you will never speak of anything related to infernals or your service to me?” Rys asked.
“Of course, Lord Talarys,” Alsia said instantly, bowing her head.
He snapped his fingers in the air. Her eyes locked onto them, body tensing for a moment. She appeared confused.
“If I’d wanted to, I could have bound you to an infernal contract. I didn’t specify a penalty, so breaching your word would mean death,” he explained. Then he tapped on the paper again. “This is a written version of an infernal contract. I want you to read it and decide if you want to sign it.”
“I don’t need to read it,” Alsia said, reaching for the pen beside the contract.
Rys rolled his eyes and forced the contract into her hands. “Don’t be stupid. There’s a line between being loyal to gain an advantage and appearing like a fool. I’d prefer if you don’t cross it, given you’re going to rule the Kinadain for me.”
Alsia nodded. “I understand.”
As she dutifully read every line of the contract, sometimes mumbling to herself, Rys stared at her.
He felt he was staring at a younger version of himself, only female and bearing strange draconic horns. Alsia actively played to his whims—or what she thought his whims were. Until she got what she wanted, she intended to do whatever necessary to keep him happy.
How many times had he played to Lacrissa’s whims? How many times had she tested him with questions she already knew the answer to? How many times had her contracts contained obvious loopholes, just to see what he would do?
“I feel there is a mistake here,” Alsia said. “This contract contains nothing regarding my service to you.”
“That’s not a mistake. Think of whatever reason for its absence that you prefer,” Rys said. “The contract prevents you from betraying me, leaking secrets, or acting against any of my agents such as Maria. I also added in the part you wanted regarding marriage approval.”
Alsia flicked through the contract. It was still over ten pages, due to all the extra details regarding contract variations and children.
“What if I refuse your orders?” Alsia said.
“I’m pretty sure I can punish you myself.” He stared at her.
She gulped. “I see. Then I have two requests.”
How daring of her.
He gestured for her to continue.
“First, the section on… marriage is too slim compared to the rest. I’d prefer if you had full approval of all related matters. It would make it easier if I could tell interested suitors to speak to you,” Alsia said.
Rys contacted Tyrisa using mindspeak, then gestured for Alsia to continue.
“Second, I want our agreement to say that you won’t order me to harm my people,” Alsia said. “I am honored that you trust me enough to give me freedom to act for you, Lord Talarys, but if I am to be bound like this, I don’t want this loophole in place.”
“Sharp,” he said. “That’s good. You’ll need to be like that when dealing with devils and other leaders. I made that fairly obvious, but many political traps are more nuanced.”
Alsia blinked. “This was a test?”
“That depends on how you define a test. A test is something where, if you fail, somebody raps you on the knuckles and tells you what you got wrong. I wouldn’t have told you that you made a mistake,” Rys said.
“Ah.”
Their conversation was interrupted by a knock, then Tyrisa stepped inside. She shot Alsia a sharp look, then sat next to Talarys.
“How can I help you, Rys?” Tyrisa chirped, focused on Alsia.
Rys resisted the urge to roll his eyes. “Alsia has two changes to make to the contract.”
Tyrisa blinked several times, then turned fully to face Alsia and fixed a stiff smile on her face. “How can I help you?”
“Allow me to explain,” Alsia began, a smug smile touching her lips.
After they finished, and Tyrisa had pilfered Alsia’s share of the wine, Rys signed the contract with Alsia. The Lilim brought some replacement food, given the original plates were stone cold.
“This is another devil?” Alsia asked, pointing at Tyrisa.
“I’m a knowledge devil,” Tyrisa snapped. “You might be one of Lord Talarys’s regents, but I’ll be running things here.”
Alsia raised an eyebrow. “He’s not ‘Rys’ anymore?”
Tyrisa glared at Alsia.
“Correction, Vallis runs things. Tyrisa just makes sure the mechanisms are oiled and will ensure I’m kept in the loop,” Rys said. “The full details are still a work-in-progress, while Maria and Vallis make sure I have a nation to rule.”
“I’m going to be the Chief of Staff,” Tyrisa muttered. “That means I run everything.”
“Chief of Staff?” Alsia asked.
“It’s much more modern than all those stuffy court positions. It’s very popular in Hell to have secretarial positions within the court,” Tyrisa said.
“Not now, Tyrisa,” Rys said. “We’re not explaining court bureaucracy to Alsia. Or to anyone. I thought it was bad during the Infernal Empire, but I’m impressed at how much more complicated it is now.”
“Is that a thing infernals normally do?” Alsia asked.
“Yes,” both Tyrisa and Rys said.
Tyrisa deferred to Rys, her eyes twinkling as she waited for him to say something.
“Devils love hierarchy and bureaucracy,” Rys said. “Nested layers of nobility. Webs of bureaucracy that can only be navigated by ancient devils or by being important enough to know the right people. Pointless conferences with hundreds or even thousands of infernals, where nothing is decided during the actual conference despite an eye-watering catering bill.”
“You are trying to replicate that?”
“No,” both Tyrisa and Rys said again. But this time, Tyrisa sounded disappointed.
“I spent my life fighting this nonsense. Centuries of working with Araunth and Duar to hold things together despite all the idiots trying to burn everything down.” Rys shook his head.
Alsia nodded sagely. Then said, “I appreciate that. Also, you just said ‘centuries,’ did you not?”
Rys smirked. “I did. Now that you’ve signed that contract, perhaps it’s time I told you a little about myself.”
The reactions of these mortals never grew old.