Her mind buzzed with a plan that adapted The Plan™️ and would maybe/maybe not work. Her brain listed all the things she needed to do to tilt it more in her favor.

In the interim, and despite everything happening outside of her Court, she still needed to make time for Flower and his black mana training. She needed time to implement healing and reconstruction on her broken priests and to tailor the library and their small slice of it to their tastes. Time to have a nightly small, blood-sucking meal and get-to-know-you conversations with her basement vampire and fairy king, benefiting Puppy's new-found needs. Time for Hugo and his training as a Heavy with Puppy and Miles, and to listen to all of their and Ines's ideas on internal security for the warehouse and the twenty or so city blocks of Central that they'd claimed quietly, and to do the final, silent buyouts of the businesses therein. Time to teach both the children and new-to-casting adults how to make mildly enchanted weapons and mid-to-low-level potions. Time to teach some of her people how to cast cantrips, and teach starter spells for the more advanced. Time for the elven ex-king and her Beasty to give reports on the progress of their plan to take over the world via capitalist protectionism-- eventually.

There were things she could delegate, but most she couldn't. Yet.

She and Miles were still working on a plan to make orbital bombardment capabilities a reality.

Max missed the days when it was just her and her spider and they were making a small life with small plans. She and he both agreed that they would be unassailable if they couldn't have small, though. So it was okay.

Her fingers were still running through Puppy's hair and his breaths were deep. The other two were quiet as they watched her scheme.

"I'll need time to prepare myself and my Court. Maybe a few weeks? Could you let your subordinates know so they won't show up any time soon?" She looked away from the two Conclave Heads and traced a finger over Puppy's stupidly pretty cheekbone. "I'll reserve a space to be available to hear any [Bargain]s they want to float by me. But I will not guarantee to take any of them."

Max: Is this the right thing to do? It's ultimately an in for the world, right? Do we want our Court to be announced to society?

Miles: I don't know. I do know that this world doesn't have anything that would be too much for us to handle. This would be us showing our warning label to the world so they don't do stupid shit that gets them killed.

***

The following two weeks were both manic in intensity and highly regimented in adhering to the schedule she made for herself so nothing and no one was neglected.

In the mornings, she would meet with the broken priests right after breakfast. She spent two hours slowly healing their guts and watching them imbibe the newest round of the highest-rated healing potions she could manage with the ingredients she had available (which were quite high-rated if you counted the world they were on and how incredibly blind everyone here was to the upper limits of magic. She idly wondered if it was by design-- after all, the whole lot of them couldn't think about fairies without being censored, so why not assume they'd all been castrated in their magical growth by some other spell? It was all very stupid). Regrowing guts and organs was not pleasant. Bloody, liquid stool and prolific vomit were expected after their initial morning quaffs, and she, at least once a day, questioned whether regrowing was worth all the hassle when she could refit them with steel.

Then she realized that cog-filled guts were in no way conducive to getting the kid priests fully grown up in maximum health, so she buckled down, grabbed the water hose, and thanked herself for her foresight in tiling their dorm floors and not carpeting them. Sylvan helped. The mouse lady was a godsend and earned the massive amount of candy Max plied her with.

After that, she spent an hour adding to the library or their dorms; adding shelves for recently bound books, frames to hang maps on walls, and general changes to accommodate their weak but healing bodies. During this, the priests who had not been laid low in their morning healings would follow her around and pepper her with questions. "Why did you cast it that way?" or "When casting geomancy spells for construction purposes, how do you keep your mana directed to not cause earthquakes in your aura area?" or "When constructing the healing potions, is it imperative that you grow your own herbs, or can one outsource the materials?"

She smiled and answered every question asked. None thought to ask personal questions and she loved them a little for it. They wanted knowledge about everything except her and in appreciation, she would fill their heads and their library to the brim as long as they didn't put her on the spot.

Oh, she knew after two days that they knew pretty much everything that was going on: who they had landed in a "fairy" court with, why Max's mana was so much more potent than theirs, why Max had the ultimate authority over some concepts like Portal Conjuring, Soul Sundering, or Resurrection Serums. They were smart and could read context clues. But they kept their mouths shut and that's all she could ask of them.

Well, she also made agnosticism a requirement for staying, but that's neither here nor there.

She wondered if she could make them give Beasty pointers on being subtle about information gathering. And make Beasty give pointers to them in the atheism-even-in-the-face-of-undeniable-proof arena.

After her allotted three hours with them, she went to her warehouse outside of her demesne where she and Aren had a meeting space set up. Beasty and Miles usually met them there. She would get a quick overview of progress made toward owning a slice of the world and then left them to it, as the three of them were more competent than she expected and much savvier than she had dreamed. That plan was coming together like a dream and would be ready when she decided it was time to make her Court's debut.

That meeting usually took anywhere from half an hour to an hour and a half. Depending on specifics.

After that, she had a light lunch in the park across the street from her store when the weather permitted, and for at least a half hour, fought the compulsion that told her brain that being outside of her growing mound was wrong. Even if it was just twenty or so meters away.

While eating, she sat in the sun and reviewed her plan which had been in the works for months. Her newly purchased properties were, all in all, about two miles in diameter, with her anchor in the center. Her newest and last purchase was of a small dock that could be used to ship her merchandise either over the Bay of Tileson, or to the inhabitants of the Bay of Tileson. She and Miles thought it was an excellent place to stop.

She read spreadsheets and reports from the businesses in the neighborhood that her Court had quickly bought out with suspiciously good terms for the sellers-- and granted a large percentage of profits to previous owners as long as they still ran them. Anyone who inhabited a building or ran a business that she had questions about got emails. Four local apartment blocks got the rents lowered and plans were made for a remodel that made them more habitable, family-friendly, and environmentally conscious. Three new ones were already going up. A free school was being built. There was now a free clinic that had buckets of healing potions on tap, a very high success rate, and tons of community accolades. It was open to all who lived or worked within a certain geographic area, which was --coincidentally, of course-- being quickly surrounded by a "retaining wall" that was for "flood mitigation" according to the planning documents provided to the city, even though the area was not prone to floods and the wall was very obviously a defensive structure to anyone who knew what they were looking at. It was also slathered in enough wards to mitigate everything from external attack, maintaining or raising the health of those inside, and a small aversion field that made people who did not have business inside subconsciously go the long way around.

It also emitted a sub-audible frequency to make those inside subtly happier and less prone to the casual violence the humans were known for.

It was becoming a small urban paradise outside of the normal Central City caste structure provided to unsuspecting humans-- and all it cost was signing a document worded like an HOA agreement, complete with a board of trustees, which outlined things like rights and responsibilities.

Signing was a mandatory condition of continued habitation. Those who didn't would be turned away from their homes and businesses-- if any had actually refused to. No one had.

All questions and concerns were sent via email to the Board Vice President of Relations, Merrick Traveler. He filtered the big stuff from the small and let Max know what needed her attention. He had contracted one of the businesses in her area to do repairs on all of the buildings and to bring the worst up to code. He had another group repairing streets and utilities. He had another drawing up maps and drafting plans for libraries and alotting spaces for leisure activities like restaurants, shopping, and meticulous parks and community gardens.

They planned to make a self-contained city within the city. It was first, to provide anonymity for her mercantile shipping plans and to provide a workforce for it. Second, it would uplift all the sad human fucks in the surrounding area so that this slice of hers would not end up like the slums that Puppy had had to stumble through. Third, it would keep the slavers and rogues away from anything that had to do with her pack. And finally, with all the humans well taken care of, it would leave less of a chance for espionage or betrayal. Why tell a rival business details when they can't compete with your current benefits?

She had, months ago, quietly bribed her way through the local government for everyone outside of the new retaining walls to avert their eyes and mind their own business, and it was working out better than intended. By a lot. A stupid amount. And it was easy.

How the fuck has a [Dark Lord] knock-off not already taken advantage of the ineptitude and greed of these city dwellers and led them all to a blood orgy of violence and tyranny years ago? How are they not owned by some corrupt corporation that wants to send their infants into battle with other corporations? How are they not all enslaved to the modern equivalent of a warlord calling himself king?

It made no sense.

See? If I'm the one doing it, with my good intentions and free health care, it would be just as easy for some ne'er-do-well to also do it. Well, not in my territory anymore, because these city blocks are mine. But elsewhere, if some evil asshole pulled his head out of mediocrity's ass, they'd easily subdue... well. In hindsight, it's probably good that they are so incompetent so I can do this as fast as I have. These trusting idiots let some unknown have power over an unsuspecting populace without vetting their plans for said populace. Fucking stupid. I could kill them all in a multitude of fast or slow horrifying ways. Poisoning the water supply. Blood sacrifices. Biological contaminants. Mental manipulation. Human experimentation. Cannibalism. Cult leadership. Slavery. Exploitation...

This story is posted elsewhere by the author. Help them out by reading the authentic version.

She snapped out of her internal evil monologue and realized she had lapsed into her unreformed thinking. That was pre-Miles Max. Not Miles's Max.

Not a villain run, Max. That's not what we're doing. Reign it in.

She did, however, grant herself leave to disparage the world's evildoers for being unimaginative pansies, though.

Why were the villains here so utterly lacking? A fucking rogue's guild couldn't even intimidate and racketeer correctly. No one even bothered to show up and try to take their place after whatever Green did.

She pondered what he might have done and shrugged to herself. It wasn't her business.

And there aren't [Hero] knock-offs, either! No call to arms for glory. No charitable healers. No obvious orphanages. Nothing. Everyone who lives in misery just, I guess, keeps living in misery? Without some daft teen or swoon-worthy mascot showing up and blowing hope smoke up their asses that leads to a societal revolution, no one thinks about or strives for change? Instead, everyone just scurries around and holds jobs, ignoring the obvious corruption, and that's it?

Just a casual, brutal ambivalence that cuts both ways, light and dark.

She threw her bread crusts to the ducks. This world is absurd.

She contemplated making the gates that let traffic into her neighborhood all disguised anchors and setting up an outer demesne tied to the physical area like her greenhouse used to be, before Dipshit 1 and 2 attacked. It would be easier to maintain as just a plot of land than it would be as a pocket realm because it wouldn't grow like her inner demesne and the humans would still be none the wiser-- just healthier, happier, slightly (technically) fae, and with a predisposition for liking a certain family a little more than they would naturally. It would make the neighborhood more defensible, but it opened her to the risk that someone would shatter all the exterior anchors and her mound would become unmoored. She'd just have to open one or two and hide them underground so she could charge back in and fuck anyone who dared up. No big deal. It was a good plan. She would have to pencil it in to do sometime later this week.

As of right now, she was breaking the rules that Green had [Bargain]ed for with the city by letting her mound spill outside of her anchor, but technically, those rules did not apply to her because no one took the time to [Bargain] with her now that she no longer fell under Green's umbrella, because she was a king, too. A separate entity. A whole new sovereign body.

Yes, she was rules lawyering. But also, fuck it. She was on a timer and the timer was ticking down.

She packed her lunch leavings away, said goodbye to the ducks, and carried her trash back to the shop that was no longer a shop to throw away.

Next was Flower and the Dark Elves, and black mana tutoring in the bunker. He could now blend into the shadows and do clumsy shadow-step teleports that would get better with practice. The elves were working on learning the language Max favored for engraving so that they could set sleep traps as fast as they could, which also fostered mana cultivation. They all agreed that the traps would come in handy should they need to use them quickly in a fight. The elves also used the time to tutor Flower with daggers, as they were ostensibly the best weapon to have as a shadow assassin, although Max was pretty sure Flower's path did not lead that way. Learning new things never hurt anyone, so she let all her dark casters bond over teaching the boy how to properly slit throats so you didn't get blood in your shoes.

After that, it was potion-making with all of the children, Cora, and the few priests who showed interest, so that they could restock all the potions the mound and the clinic outside had used in the past day and they wouldn't have to dip into the supply they had in reserve, which they planned to sell at stupid prices to stupid people or donate for free to hospitals. Cora was progressing nicely as the backup healer and potion maker, and Max could probably let her teach a few of the newbies how to make the lesser potions all by herself soon. It would be a relief and let Max recover an hour she could use to forge swords with small enchantments instead, so she could bulk up supplies to sell. Romy, Cyrus, and Rigel would probably be delighted to help, as they had all shown interest in forging in the past.

While she was doing this, Miles ran a class about coding and technology, which had a surprising amount of priests and elves attend.

After that, it was a few hours of sparring with Hugo and Miles, followed by Hugo and Ines giving Max and Miles a rundown of inner and outer security. That was usually brief unless one of them had an idea to implement. Miles always had an update on his project of launching satellites for defensive and offensive abilities. He was close to making it a reality. The four of them partook in the daily debate over whether golems or robots were superior, with Max's promise to start production as soon as everyone agreed. The loudest debaters were Miles and Hugo.

After that, it was meditation practice and mana well tutoring for all in front of the Hometree. Elves, a spider, a monster, shifters, and human priests-- no one in the mound missed that if they could help it. When the crowd started to gather, it was conversations and kid jokes, adults smiling indulgently at them, people who looked like children smiling too, back-patting and 'Hey, how are you?"s, and normal sounds of a small group who were friendly with each other were heard. An elf would help a priest to sit because they were all pretty fragile. A priest would flirt -horribly- with an elf. An elf would ask a shifter about how their day went. A monster would look at them all and sigh in contentment.

On the nights when everyone was in attendance --which was most-- a hum spread over the group; a spell was unintentionally but communally cast, and contentment and unity, family, and community rang through the demesne that left all of them, everyone, lighter, freer, and more grounded. Ready to face whatever the next day brought. Hope for what comes next.

I may have started an accidental cult. Max knew she should fear and fret, but she didn't have it in her to do it. That's a problem for later if it even is a problem. We haven't done any blood rituals, we haven't hurt anyone, we are all working toward the greater good, so it's all whatever. This is fine.

Then, it was dinner with her family in the bunker. It let them all touch base with one another after they all went their separate ways during the day. Even though they were never further away than a text through the neural link, it was nice to sit together and have a meal with the two kids, Miles, Puppy, and her elves, with Sylvan hiding in a corner and occasionally chiming in. They were, after all, the reason why she had been running herself so ragged.

"I think it's done," said Beasty, excitedly showing Max a thick stack of unbound, slightly glossy magazine papers. She shoved it in Max's face, right over her dinner dish that had gravy-covered boar chops and mashed root vegetables on it, and Max used every point of [Agility] to catch them all.

"Lemme see!" Flower shouted, leaning in to look, and Puppy stood over her shoulder to get a good view.

"It's everything that we currently have in stock or can make quickly. I think the prices are way too high, but Aren said that no one else would or could sell these things. So, the prices are what they are. I'll have the site updated and ready to launch when you say go."

"Since this is done, it should only be two or three more days. We are waiting for the retaining wall to be finished." Max flipped through the pages and made a humming sound. "Nicely done, Beasty. I like how some of these are very artistic." Max complimented. "Having the military gear and the healing potions and enchantments sold in the same section is genius. I like how they are in the same layouts, and how the amulets are showcased as part of the armor with the potion belts attached. You can't see one without the other. I hope everyone eventually mentally defaults to them going hand in hand."

"That's what I thought, too. And with how cheaply they can be made, it'll be like we are printing credits if a nation buys the set." Miles offhandedly said.

Max blinked for a minute. "I'd need to get more people to help with production if a nation buys."

"Miles is really good with the layout designs. He knows about stuff like that that I wouldn't think of." Beasty said, puffing up proudly for Miles.

Flower crowed, "Great job, metal man. We'll be the richest family in the world!"

"It's not about the money, it's about the reputation. We need our products to be so valuable that countries will go to war in our favor. We are the product. This whole plan is so everyone outside the mound will want to keep our company happy and producing expensive miracles so they won't let anyone else bother us, and highlighting what we can bring to bear if that doesn't work or if someone gets a stupid idea that they can strong arm us into doing anything we don't want." Max sniffed. "We are already rich."

Miles's little leg tapped the table to draw attention. "Speaking of that, I'd like to recruit a few more humans from outside demesne, bless them, and teach them infosec basics. With nothing behind firewalls here, it's too easy to rob people. We could market electronic security to the government of Central City and own them that way, too. And also be the only ones who can rob people."

Max hesitated. "You'd have to let them see you. Do you think we have humans out there we could trust?"

"The ones out there are technically, if unwittingly, fae. I think we could lock them down relatively well in a [Bargain] and then offer exceptional benefits and they would probably volunteer to die for us as long as it keeps them out of the slums." Puppy shuddered. "You guys don't understand how bad the slums really are."

Miles shrugged his little thorax. "Sounds plausible. Meat people are gross. No offense."

"If you guys think it's a good idea, we can run with it. I'll trust your judgments." Max gave Miles a matching shrug.

"Okay. I'll start looking at the ones I have in mind tomorrow and let you and Miles know." Puppy said, nodded, and pulled out a notebook from the necklace storage item he was wearing to add a note to his personal to-do list after licking gravy off of his thumb. "Oh, and since you mentioned it earlier, the wall was finished today. If you wanted, Miles, you can go and put the final wards on them and it should be ready."

Max nodded and slumped. "Once you're done, Beasty, and have about 20 copies, I'll be ready for the conclave meeting. I think." She said.

"Cool. I can finish it up tomorrow."

Max sighed. "Okay."

***

As dinner wound down and everyone started to wander away, Max had a quiet word with Sylvan and retreated to the prison demesne with Puppy to see their other consorts. This was her most and least favorite time of day because she usually ended the night confused and horny and almost always a little frustrated and her face was usually tired from smiling.

The vampire was unflappable in his desire for the both of them. That, she could handle.

Green did little to dispel her wariness, but that was okay. He was, at his wildest core, a freaking butterfly, so she should probably cut him some slack, right? She was always questioning if it was wiser to trust him or wiser to not trust him, and second-guessing her already second-guessed belief that he wouldn't harm her or her Court. To be fair, he hadn't done anything to make her question him as much as she was. He'd been helpful and charming in the past. He was slow with providing dark mages but had good excuses.

So why was she hesitant? She had no idea. Even at the worst conclusion that she had drawn, he wanted her to empower his court so he could save the lost fae of the world. Which, at its heart, was admirable. If she were a [Hero], she'd already be working toward the solution to that. If he usurped her Court and overpowered her ownership of her anchor, that would just give him more problems than he already had. And he knew she had this bad boy wired to blow, so he couldn't do anything with it. Her power was one she landed with, not one she got from anchors and tithes. She thought it might be mana he was after, so she offered to make him a self-powering mana well in his demesne to really supercharge his borders, but he declined. What was he after? She wasn't naive enough to believe it was something as provincial as her love. Or maybe she was overly cynical and that's exactly what he was after. Who knows? She sure as shit didn't. And he wasn't volunteering the information.

Unsurprisingly, she suspected that the two in the basement figured out that she had them under audio surveillance and they hadn't had another enlightening conversation. It would have either done away with her worries or would have exacerbated them.

More's the pity.

It was also frustrating that they had such soft reactions to anything she did to mess with them, too.

A little screaming or fainting wasn't too much to ask for.

She showed up the night before as a slime, and the vampire asked to lick her to get her new flavor on his tongue since she didn't have any blood. "I need to know all the flavors my bride is capable of," he said with a straight face. Green casually continued, without dropping a beat, a debate they were having the night before, without blinking at her, you know, being a slime.

She showed up as a giant spider with Puppy on her back the night before that, and the only reaction was Green suggesting that she wouldn't fit into their lounge room and the vampire joining the pup to lounge behind her head.

Beasts. Monsters. Insects. Reptiles. Dragonoids.

None of them raised their eyebrows. For two weeks she had tried her best.

Nothing.

Messing with them was no fun.