The morning that followed was an ugly one for Lucas. Not only could he hardly bear to look at himself in the mirror even after a bath, but part way through brunch, Skylara showed up in the crowded dining room. Worse, after looking at the Prince’s high table, she actually chose to sit at the smaller round one in a nearby corner where he and Heisenburgle were dining.
From the determined way she strode toward him, Lucas feared that she’d figured out his ruse and come to rip his head off. It was only after she sat down and started playing footsie with him under the table that he realized the truth was far worse than that. She’d completely fallen for it and seemed to be in the mood to go another round or six.
Though she only made polite conversation during the meal, those fears were confirmed as the assembled member of the aristocracy slowly made their way to court for the morning audiences. That was when she pulled him into a corner and pinned him to the wall with a kiss so forceful that escape was impossible.
“I must confess my memories of last night are less than clear, Mister Blue,” she murmured.”But the things you did to me… the way I feel today… We simply must do this again sometime.”
“I-I’m glad you enjoyed your evening,” he said, resisting the urge to slap her, but only because he wanted to live. “Right now isn’t—”
“Well, aren’t you a horny one,” she teased, misreading what he was trying to say completely as she all but shoved his face into her cleavage. “Of course, we can’t skip court to fuck like little bunny rabbits. People would talk!”
Still, she seemed taken with the idea, and Lucas quickly interjected before she could decide that was what she wanted. “Well, sadly, I will be leaving soon. I have vital, time-sensitive experiments I must get back to if you want me to continue to make breakthroughs in—”
“Time-sensitive?” she asked skeptically. “What could possibly be time-sensitive about what you’re working on?”
“How familiar are you with Alchemy?” he asked, suddenly unsure of himself. She hadn’t spoken from arrogance there but from indignation, which meant that she’d probably seen his bald-faced lie for exactly what it was.
“I’ve read scores of those dusty old tomes,” she said, “But they got me no closer to my goals, so I abandoned them an age ago.”
“Well, then you know about the elemental balances required in Alchemy,” he continued, desperately trying to figure out how he could turn his earlier lie into a truth.
“Naturally,” she answered confidently.
“Well, I’ve gone as far down the elemental road as I can to optimize this recipe,” he lied, “So I’m trying to recreate it during different phases of the moon and times of the year to see if that has any effect. Certain constellations seem to—”
“Oh, of course,” she said, brightening immediately. “How wonderfully inventive. The elves love the moon. I have no doubt that such heavenly bodies play some part in the mysterious recipe we both seek. ”
After that, she released him from her iron grip and treated him more like a colleague than a plaything. Skylara might be infatuated with Lucas, but she was utterly in love with the drugs he made for her. While she seemed to have no issues with forcing herself on him whenever she was in the mood, the idea that it might slow down his research was enough to make her pull well away.
After that, they went to the court together, and she promised that she would call on him next time rather than demand his presence. She even assured him that it was okay to decline her invitations if his experiments were at some crucial moment. “As much as I will be… disappointed, I will allow you the chance to make it up to me another day…” she purred, taking him by the arm as they walked down the richly appointed hallways.
Heisenburgle did believe him, of course. They didn’t have a chance to chat until lunch, but even then, he found the claims outlandish. “That’s preposterous!” the gnome exclaimed, drawing a few looks before he toned his voice back down. “The Red Lady does not take no for an answer. Everyone knows this.”
“Yeah,” Lucas agreed, thinking about last night. “Trust me. I know that much, but she really did say it. On my life, she did.”
“Well, that’s something I’ll let you explain to the Prince before we depart,” Heisenburgle continued. “I think he is pleased, so it should be nothing more than a conversation, but you never can tell…”
Lucas thanked his lucky stars. Even the idea of an unhappy Prince wasn’t enough to phase him. Even an outraged Prince would be better than spending another three hours standing around listening to men of good breeding argue about ancient land rights and crown-granted monopolies like they had this morning. Lucas never wanted to attend court again, not in another dozen lifetimes. If those angels really wanted to punish me for everything I’ve done, they could just make me king for a life, he thought with a smirk. Being a drug kingpin is nearly as bad already!
He didn’t really feel like a drug lord, but he supposed that was still what he was. He’d wiped out two rival gangs, held the toughest gang in the city on retainer, and made allegiances with the crown to secure his revenues. Those were all gangland things. Still, these days, he felt like a researcher more than anything, and truthfully, that was all he wanted to get back to. That and making his hot sauce. He was sick of meetings with the Prince and dragon booty calls, but he hardly had a say in either outcome.
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When they arrived at the Prince’s study, he was already finished eating, and he had a number of books and notes strewn across his desk. He didn’t even look up at them as they approached before he said, “I trust you enjoyed your evening with our guest of honor? She certainly seems taken with you.”
“I, uh, yeah, something like that,” Lucas agreed, not really sure what to say. He started to explain what he’d told Heisenburgle earlier, but Prince stopped him with a single raised finger.
“I am not here to discuss your romantic interludes with the kingdom’s biggest threat and benefactor,” the Prince answered dismissively. “Keep her happy, and you may do whatever you like. I am here to discuss the assassination attempt that nearly claimed your life.”
“Oh? Did you catch the guy?” Lucas asked.
“Catch the guy?” The Prince looked up at him, baffled. “One does not have to catch a mage in this kingdom. I sent a letter to the archmage of his guild. Then Archmage Dolizsol summoned his junior, who gave a full accounting of the facts and apologized for taking work outside the guild's remit. That is what happened.”
“So he just apologized, and everything is okay now?” Lucas asked skeptically, quickly adding a “Your Highness” when he saw the gnome shift uncomfortably.”
“Sometimes mages take jobs without letting the guild know. This is strictly against their charter and a terrible idea for a variety of reasons, yet sometimes young mages do it anyway. If it was a simple case, like making an illicit wand or scroll, the apology would cost him less, but an unsanctioned hit against an asset of the crown…” the Prince let the word linger, making it clear where he saw Lucas if he didn’t have any doubts. “In this case, his apology will cost him the entirety of his fee, substantial recompense, and the little finger of his left hand. Neither he nor any of his peers are likely to make a similar mistake again, for a long time.”
“What about the men that hired him?” Lucas asked, mollified. It wasn’t quite the death penalty the guy probably deserved, but it was certainly in the realm of reasonable, and he imagined that the crown was loath to give up a valuable mage for something as petty as his life.
“That is what we are here to discuss,” the Prince answered. “I’d like your input before I render that judgment since the man is someone close to you.”
“What? The fucking Whisperers did this?” Lucas exploded. The outburst drew a sharp look from Heisenburgle, but he didn’t care. “Those motherfuckers…”
“Closer,” the Prince said, watching Lucas’ reaction. He seemed to get some satisfaction as his face showed the pieces clicking into place, one at a time. “He actually planted a volatile mixture in your luggage. That was part of the reason that the mage guild let their young journeyman off so easily. He only cast a simple ignite spell on an alchemical bomb that was supposed to disable your carriage, not destroy it.”
Lucas wanted to make a joke about letting off easy, but he couldn't; he was still coping with the fact that fucking Aden had tried to get him killed. Before he could respond to that, though, Heisenburgle piped up and said, “Do we know who created the potions of volatility? Does the mage? When I find out who made such a thing to damage my research, I’ll—”
The gnome seemed about ready to explode, but even so, the Prince calmed him down with a dismissive gesture. “That angle is still being researched and not pertinent at the moment. I wish to decide what we should do to Adin for now. He should be punished, but not too publicly. I have no wish to draw the ire of Lord Torvin for publicly shaming his son-in-law. Not when other things that you need not be privy to are at a delicate stage.”
So mages can be publicly shamed and tortured, but nobility gets off easy, huh? Lucas thought to himself. Even shitty little viscounts like Adin.
Truthfully, he wanted to kill the man himself, like right now, himself. He hadn’t felt like this since the time he’d slit someone’s throat last year, and the idea of being told he couldn’t when Adin was probably still somewhere in the palace was infuriating.
The Prince seemed to read a good portion of this from his expression and said, “To be clear, You cannot kill, maim, or shame him, but you are still very much the wronged party here, Lucas, and it is important to me and your productivity that this matter is resolved in a manner that satisfies you. So, I’m asking you, what is the worst thing we could do to him, to make him pay for his crimes.”
“Sending him back to the dungeon where I found his ass is out, huh?” he asked as his mind raced through answers. Lucas had already been pissed at the man for the revelations about the way he’d tried to pimp Danaria and the way he was skimming from the operation, but trying to murder him really only had one possible response, and that was something he wasn’t allowed to do.
“Cold turkey,” Lucas said finally after thinking about it for a moment.
“Excuse me?” the Prince asked. “Does the man have a food allergy? I should—”
“Make him quit cold turkey. It’s an expression from where I’m from,” Lucas continued. “Send him out in the country for his own good. Tell him he has to rehabilitate from his crippling habit, and then let him spend a few weeks suffering as the blue comes out of his system one drop at a time.”
If I’m lucky, that will kill him all on its own, he thought to himself. Though his peers in this world understood the concept of drugs and addiction, he doubted they understood the concept of physical dependency or the idea that simply quitting something like heroin could kill you. He didn’t know if that was the way Blue worked, but right now, he certainly hoped it did.
“A fine punishment,” the Prince said, “But wouldn’t that release your hold on him and allow him to get up to other mischief in the future?”
“It would,” Lucas agreed, “But it would increase your hold on the Torvins by equal amounts. After they see how much the Viscount suffers while going through withdrawal, I very much doubt they will disobey you again in anything that might affect their access to Blue.”
The Prince considered that and then nodded. “A fine choice,” he agreed.
“But I want to be the one to tell him,” Lucas said before the Prince could drift on to another topic. “And I have one other, uhmmm, request, if I might, Your Highness.”