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Volume III, Prologue: The Elvish Sanctuary

Volume III, Prologue: The Elvish Sanctuary

Prime Minister Asibridel rested, listlessly nude, in a shallow and cooling bath, and stared at the tent's ceiling. The endless conferences drained her. She made little headway. The revelation of the hero Lord Walter Alvis and the ascension of his lover Lady Elin Folcey upset the political landscape.

"Lord Walter and Lady Elin recently hired an elf bondservant, ma'am."

Asibridel's eyes slid over to her assistant, Ms. Robin. Health issues rarely afflicted elves, so Asibriden was sure the gold-wire glasses Ms. Robin wore were purely fashionable. Since Ms. Robin's mind was uncommonly sharp, she attempted to dissuade envy and distrust with a fabricated defect.

While the prime minister lay exposed, completely naked, neither woman acted embarrassed. For elves of their age, their bodies were no longer 'them,' but rather vehicles of their will. Nakedness sparked as much interest as an empty wagon.

"That's good news."

"No, ma'am, unfortunately, she's a wayfarer, and she's a water bearer."

Asibridel sighed, "Well, the lowest step is still a place to stand. Are they treating her well? Is she a mistress?"

"So far, and no, ma'am."

She avoided reacting to the word 'wayfarer' and ignored the hint of bitterness Ms. Robin said it with. All elves, as old as Asibridel, eventually ask themselves the question, 'Stay or go?' Ms. Robin didn't understand, yet, because while old enough to be mature, she was young enough to feel unearned elvish camaraderie.

That was the 'Curse of Hera.'

Assistants toweled and dressed Asibridel when she stood. After all, only a painter can objectively see the canvas.

---

The Five Kingdom's Congress dragged on. Everyone squabbled and guessed and debated. The Wilmand Kingdom and the Rangville Empire sent surveyors to restate their claims to the farmland surrounding the Necropolis. They argued and pointed fingers and screamed. Bartgoria, the unofficial sixth 'kingdom,' technically a mafia-state, and the Sanctuary, often sided with the Wilmand Kingdom. The Alune Theocracy supported Rangville's positions. Prime Minister Asibridel expected these developments.

Rumors regarding Lord Walter and Lady Elin were bought and sold. For once, Asibridel enjoyed an upper hand in the exchanges. Nix, the wayfarer mistress of Prince Wilhelm III, provided the prime minister with many details regarding Lord Walter's and Lady Elin's politics. Furthermore, Prince Wilhelm III and General Tybalt did not return to congress, so official reports were scarce. Food wagons traveled north, so others could obtain a few facts.

As the primary merchant of information, Prime Minister Asibridel also expected Pope Althonbright to approach her.

Did you know this story is from Royal Road? Read the official version for free and support the author.

"Have you reconsidered our offer?"

"Under no circumstances will the Sanctuary entertain the idea of an exchange with the Alune Theocracy. The answer is, and will always be, no."

Pope Althonbright wore a practiced smile so unwavering that its unchanging nature exposed it as fake. When he spoke of elves, his fingers absentmindedly stroked his holy staff, in a subtle, yet disgusting, way. With him, elves didn't stand on the lowest step, they were to be stepped on, and he would stand, grinning, on them until he crushed them.

"A strong relationship between the two of us would strengthen the bonds of our nations. Consider your situation, prime minister, for your country's sake, and your own. Only a handful of elf heroes were summoned, and those that arrived solely supported human nations. Now, there's another hero. You need our magic."

Prime Minister Asibridel continued strolling past him. "We supported the hero during the skirmish between the Wilmand Kingdom and the Rangville Empire. We have nothing to fear."

"Yes, but does he support you? How much longer will your people survive, isolated on that northern peninsula? Wouldn't it be better to live as a pet than to starve?"

"You mean slaves."

Pope Althonbright's eyes narrowed, while his smile remained plastered and unmoving, "Well treated slaves."

His holy robes may be clean, but his soul is filth.

The pope continued, and shrugged, "Our world's new hero will arrive soon. Well, you made your bed. Maybe you can fuck your way out of it?"

---

The pope's crudeness kept echoing in her head when she returned to her tent. Nix's reports warned that attempting to bed Lord Walter would be disastrous. Lady Elin suppressed a jealous streak, and Lord Walter would choose to follow her opinion. If Lady Elin said, "Ignore the elves," then it's likely Lord Walter would do so.

However, it was a known fact that heroes suffered the qualm of lust. If any chance at prostituting his favor existed, then she would immediately attempt it, without pause or regret.

When Prime Minister Asibridel concluded that there is no other way to survive, she ordered all the attendants to leave and shared her plan with Ms. Robin.

"Red or natural?" Ms. Robin frowned.

Prime Minister Asibridel turned to the two lipstick options in Ms. Robin's hands. "Natural. Lord Walter and Lady Elin are monogamists. Any perceived attempt at seduction will anger Lady Elin, and we absolutely must avoid that."

"Yet, you will wear this?"

Ms. Robin held up the sheer spider-silk dress Asibridel selected.

"Of course, I'm old. It's expected. Lady Elin will sense something is amiss if I don't. Besides, I am trying to seduce him, just not sexually. I'm trying to appeal to him."

"I don't understand."

"You will understand when you're older."

"Don't do this, prime minister. This could backfire."

"I've already made up my mind." Asibridel strolled out of the tent and left behind a gawking Ms. Robin. "If I'm removed from my station, then I leave the future of the Sanctuary to you."

The older an elf, the stronger she was. When she rode a horse, it was purely for appearances. However, in the middle of the night, she leaped and bound across the grass. The thin fabric of her dress flowed, and she chose it because it would not be ruined by the wind. Hours later, panting, she stopped at the encampment.

Guards stopped her, and she leaped over them. It wasn't hard for her to identify and zero in on Lord Walter's tent. She perceived it by the way the soldiers moved around the camp, the way they turned away or towards it. Before the first shouts of alarm were aired, she parted the entrance and darted in.

The key to understanding Walter is he will never be a hero, but he believes he should be one.

"Lord Walter, my name is Prime Minister Asibridel, and I represent the Sanctuary. I've come to beg for your help! I'll do anything!"