If the emperor’s garden dazzled with its grandeur, the room where he was to meet the duchess astounded with its strict simplicity. Although made of sky silver, its walls were virtually bare, containing nothing more than a single portrait of a Tamin emperor—probably Tamin I—and his wife. One glance was enough for Dallion to recognize the necklace worn by the empress—the flutterblade he had seen Falkner buy at the Night Auction of Lanitol.
Directly beneath it, sitting in a stoic wooden chair, was what Dallion expected to be Duchess Elazni. She, too, was more than familiar; Dallion recognized her from the time of his Moon trial. At the time, he was under the influence of the age spell, so she had seemed a lot bigger.
The woman’s hair flowed freely down her shoulders way under the table in front, making him want to check whether it touched the floor.
“The second empress,” the woman said, an almost cheeky smile on her face.
If this wasn’t the Imperial Palace, one would mistake her for a pampered, distant noble relation. Her clothes, although made of gem and diamond thread, were more casual than one would expect, covered in deliberate wrinkles. Even her expression was that of someone who’d just come from a long day of partying and was eager to return to it after spending a few minutes of mandatory pomp.
“She was said to have been the only one to grant the emperor more than one heir, and one of the few women who any of the emperors actually fancied,” the noble continued. Two things became immediately apparent: the second empress was the matriarch who had started the House of Elazni, and the woman in the room was using a rather advanced form of music skills as she spoke.
The execution was a lot different than what Dallion had experienced. When actively using his skills, he had focused on overwhelming his targets in one way or another. The woman did nothing of the sort, layering the strands of music so finely that if Dallion weren’t a mage, he might have missed it. Not only that, but she was using an entire bouquet of emotions, constantly changed them as she spoke, constantly nudging towards something he couldn’t determine.
“Duchess Elazni.” Dallion bowed, remaining two feet from the door.
“Lady Elazni,” she corrected. “The duchess is my great grandmother.”
Great grandmother? Dallion wondered.
The powerful families live a lot, Adzorg said. And unlike the archdukes, they don’t bother keeping it a secret.
“My apologies.” Dallion looked up. “Did you summon me?”
“No, I’m just here to keep you company until granny arrives. Although it’s nice seeing you at your standard age.” Her words were full of affection, aiming to make Dallion swoon. Based on how expertly she was doing it, using music to get her way had probably become the lady’s second nature.
Stopping the music attack would have been simple. All that Dallion needed to do was cast a quick air spell or use his own music skills. Something told him that it wouldn’t be advisable to do so, not on his first day as a noble, at least.
“Thank you,” he replied with a smile. “Do I wait here, or can I sit at the table?”
A hint of surprise flickered on the woman’s face.
“You saw it, didn’t you?” she asked. This time, her words were attempting to convey fear.
“I am a mage, Lady.”
Suddenly, a vertical line appeared in one of the doors, quickly growing into an opening. A sun gold metalin entered the room.
The moment she saw it, the Lady Elazni quickly stood up from the seat. Her clothes instantly straightened up, suggesting she had spent some time in their awakening realms. Two more metalins emerged, standing on either side of the formed archway. Then, finally, the duchess stepped in. Her hair was grayish white, styled like a crown around the top of her head. The gown she was wearing seemed as simple as the room was stoic. Composed of thousands of layers of quicksilver thread, it shared some characteristics of a Roman tunic. Golden rings, brooches, and a rather large necklace complemented the outfit, indicating her stature. They also acted as bodyguards. Dallion could sense that each of them was, in fact, a living creature perfectly loyal and possibly as strong as Gleam.
“Duchess.” Dallion bowed again, this time even lower.
The lack of reaction told him that this time he was correct. The woman made her way to the seat, then sat down.
“You had to become a baron on the battlefield,” she said, the disappointment apparent in her voice. “If you had a modicum of common sense, you would have done so here during the emperor’s summons. It wouldn’t have caused such a headache.”
“My apologies, Your Grace.” What the heck am I apologizing for? “I didn’t want to give the Azures the heads up. They have been too well informed as of late for it to be a coincidence.”
No emotion emanated from the duchess. The younger noble didn’t manage the same level of self-control. Amusement was written all over her face.
“Whatever’s done is done,” Duchess Elazni said in a neutral voice. “Now we have to deal with the consequences. Sit.”
She hasn’t lost her touch, Adzorg said, more amused than Dallion would have liked. The old Duchess always had a flair to her.
A few weeks ago, Dallion would have felt the pressure. Not anymore, though. Looking at her, he just saw an equal with more experience. In a polite but calm fashion, he made his way to the single available chair and sat down across from the two nobles. Each step was carefully observed by the metalins.
Don’t try anything, one of the creatures on the duchess said.
“Where are your shardflies?” the noble asked, almost as if she had heard the conversation.
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“I let her go on her own errand, Duchess,” Dallion replied. “I expect her to be back soon, possibly a few days at most.”
“Pity, I would have liked seeing her. Spectral shardflies are incredibly difficult to train. Liya, it is high time for you to find a suitable companion,” she turned to the other noble.
“Yes, grandmother. I will.”
“You’ve been taught the basics about being a domain ruler?” The duchess went straight to the point, turning back to Dallion.
“Yes, Your Grace.”
“That’s a small blessing, at least. With your record of annoying nobles, finding a territory will be difficult. Three archdukes would like nothing better than to kill you, and two more don’t want to have anything to do with you.”
Three? Dallion thought. Lanitol and Priscord he could understand, but who was the third one? Maybe that had to do with his wyvern nest rescue. Technically, it was Euryale who had annoyed her noble client, though it wouldn’t be out of the question for him to have been lumped in.
“What about Nerosal?” the younger noble asked. “It’s empty right now, and it doesn’t look like anyone has any—”
“Do not interrupt, Liya. The Order doesn’t like others to play with its toys, even if they are broken. It has been decided that Baron Darude will stay in the imperial city under our sponsorship.”
There were a few things that would have shocked Dallion more, but this was definitely in the top five. The gears of his mind spun in motion, trying to figure out what sort of game the woman was playing as well as his part in it. If she were an archduke, he could understand her sponsoring him just to spite Priscord. The former countess was also a recent climber and probably viewed as a person who didn’t know her place. Being part of the imperial family, he could see only one reason—the woman wanted him as a trophy. Having a noble mage and empath be part of one’s house was a perfect means to show off. Also, since he didn’t have a domain of his own, he could be asked to earn his keep by performing certain magic or hunter tasks.
Fun…
A lot of nobles start that way, Vihrogon admitted.
“You are free to reject the offer, of course. Though I don’t see that as being particularly beneficial for either of us.”
“I assume I have to give my answer immediately, Your Grace?”
“Marigold mentioned you were cheeky.” There was a note of sadness in the duchess’ voice. “A pity what happened to her. This isn’t a decision you can drag out. If you feel you have a better play, refuse the offer. If you don’t, accept it, but it’s never a good idea to openly play for time.”
“I guess it’s my hunter’s nature, Your Grace.”
“Too cheeky for your own good.”
The necklace detached itself from the duchess’ neck. Springing wings, it flew onto the table facing Dallion. There didn’t seem to be any bloodlust or aggression emanating from it. Still, it was better for Dallion not to take the creature lightly.
“Go ahead,” the noble invited. “Pet it.”
Dallion knew that splitting during a conversation was seen as rude. However, as much as he tried to rationalize that no one could afford to kill him so openly, the time for being reckless had passed. Reaching forward, he waited till the very last moment, when he split into two instances. In one instance, his hand touched the creature, in the other it stopped a hair’s length away.
PERSONAL AWAKENING
A green rectangle emerged. Dallion switched to his second instance, causing the rectangle to disappear from reality.
“Do you plan to imprison me, Your Grace?” Dallion’s tone hardened, his hand almost on the creature.
“In the imperial palace, I don’t need to bother with that. We have overseers for that purpose.”
Fair enough.
PERSONAL AWAKENING
Reality changed. Gone was the small simple room, replaced by a giant ball room. A stage three times as large as Performer’s Plaza extended before him, full of hundreds of people. Initially, it seemed as if two armies were fighting against one another, but it quickly became obvious that these were merely highly skilled actors in a play. Orchestral music filled the air, as the leader of one side—a general Dallion would have recognized if he had been more familiar with the history of the empire—started singing.
“Opera always helps me see things in perspective,” the duchess said, appearing right beside Dallion. Both of them were seated in what would correspond to a theater’s VIP balcony. “This is the third act—the culmination of events. You’d be surprised how difficult it was to gather all the echoes, even for me, but with enough dedication and patience… well, you see the result.”
Back on Earth, Dallion had sometimes fantasized what it would be like entering a massive cinematic battle. Now, he got to experience it firsthand. The atmosphere, the emotions of the performing echoes, even the smells were masterfully crafted for the occasion.
“Do you wish to add me to your collection, Duchess?”
“I’m welcoming you to my family. And that’s precisely why you are given a choice. I can’t delay your decision, but if you choose to accept the sponsorship, you will be given a mansion in the city to act as your temporary realm. From there, you will have the opportunity to rise higher or, should you decide, leave the imperial city altogether.”
“I get the feeling this isn’t an offer most get.”
“Most domain rulers haven’t achieved what you have. You were correct to assume you’d be a piece in my collection. However, that comes with its benefits. Players don’t fear pieces. They might hate them, even want to break them, but they wouldn’t waste more energy doing it than it’s worth. If you choose to announce to the world that you’re a new player, the risks will be greater, while the rewards would be the same at best.”
“You’re offering to limit my growth so that I can learn, Duchess?”
“Only when it comes to leveling. You’ll have lots of opportunities to gain achievements in the process. The only price is using your particular skills to do a few favors now and again.”
“I believe I’ve gone through a similar experience in Nerosal. It taught me not to repeat it.”
“Stubborn to the end.” The duchess clapped her hands.
Within seconds, the echoes performing the massive scene disappeared one after the other in large clusters. Soon enough, all but one had gone. The man remaining had the appearance of a butler, dressed in a pompous set of expensive clothes that made Dallion’s eyes hurt just looking at them. It was as if someone had drained half the color of the surrounding world and injected them into the clothes themselves. The red vest was particularly painful, but even that wasn’t able to retain Dallion’s focus for long; not after he had seen the man’s face.
“Taem?” Dallion asked in disbelief.
Taem was the man who had originally sold him the harpsisword in Nerosal all that time ago, before vanishing without a trace. Dallion had made a few attempts to find out what had happened to him, but quickly given up.
“Wonderful seeing you again, sir.” The butler bowed. “And might I compliment you on your achievements.”
“You gave me the sword.” Dallion turned to the duchess.
“Yes.” She made a sign for the butler to disappear. “It belonged to my daughter—your grandmother, so it’s also yours by birthright.”
At this point, the sponsorship made a lot more sense.