Duke Quentin Roberts Westbrook DeVille was contemplating the future. Normally there was very little to contemplate as plans had already been generated and assimilated by all the necessary parties. Very little thought was given to the possibility of true failure, although setbacks were given due consideration and integrated into their designs. No, there was no need to dedicate time to working out the optimal path to the future. Instead he was dedicating a small portion of his morning to contemplation of the inevitable.

Success.

Soon he would be King Quentin Roberts Westbrook DeVille, First of his Name. Long may he reign.

He had found over his many, many years that spending a brief portion of his morning going over the idea of what success would bring helped to ease the burden of attempting to placate the others. Be they house staff, soldiers in his employ, his agents, or those insufferable elders of the house, he thought of them all as different from himself. Lesser. Only his wife was worthy of being equal.

Well, nearly, he thought to himself. She can be second amongst equals.

Perhaps, someday far in the future, their children would have the possibility to achieve the greatness of their parentage. Then they too could possibly be equal to his current existence, but never to the heights he and his wife would achieve.

He had to stop that line of thinking. Looking too far ahead on the great plan risked missing the next step.

Activating his Plotting skill, he reviewed the day’s necessities. The skill had originally been Planning, but with evolution had come improvements. The simple name of the skill belied its true power. It wasn’t just a simple skill to help him create little plans. No, it was something much more insidious. Plotting was a comprehensive skill more akin to a crafting skill than anything else. It was categorically more. Planning, scheduling, organization, methodology, personality copies, and the ability to mix them all together to create realistic simulations gave him the near god like ability to advance his plans. Their plans. Even his wife’s similar skill wasn’t quite as majestic as Plotting.

His review showed nothing of too great of importance.

Breakfast with the children, a task he could soon cut from his schedule if the new nanny worked out. He was waiting on the final test results, but expected an answer soon. With that nearly worthless activity removed he could gain almost a full hour to deal with significantly more important matters.

Meeting with his secretary. There were a number of reports from his agents that he needed to review. Elinoria would be joining him for that, as he would be joining her for the reports she received just after.

Next was the arrival of the new tutor. The man had arrived the day before, but it was time for his introduction and instructions. Unlike the nanny, his purchase was the result of long term preparations being put into play. The man was a compulsive gambler, so it was easy to string him along until they needed him. Now that they had a nanny, it had been easy to fabricate massive losses and force the man into debt slavery. Like the boy he’d purchased for the nanny’s test, use of the right pieces kept everyone thinking he was the good guy.

Seeing that the next item for the day was lunch with his wife, he realized that she wouldn’t be joining him for the task of guiding the tutor into the path of enlightenment that they had laid out for him. There was a note, however, that stated she would be meeting with him afterwards to help nudge the man along correctly.

Excited at the possibilities, he skimmed through the rest of the list. He couldn’t really forget it even if he tried, but constant attention to detail is what kept him, and his wife, on top.

Breakfast nearly ruined his good mood. Once more her son was failing to live up to expectations, and the less said about her daughter the better. He’d leave the bribing of the useless girl up to his wife this time, but punishment for her son’s failures was his responsibility. Why the boy couldn’t grasp the concepts he wanted him to was beyond him. Another day training with the guards was in the boy’s future. Maybe he’d finally learn to use a sword and have some minimal worth since he was useless at everything else.

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The duke never once considered the concept of fairness when expecting his son to match his own current, System empowered and evolved, abilities. Or even his wife’s equal, but secondary, abilities.

He didn’t acknowledge the girl at all during the meal, of course. Pointless things, daughters. Waste valuable resources raising them, just to send them off to some other competing family for the mere possibility of consideration in the future.

The meeting with his secretary was acceptable. The expected agents reported the completion or advancement of their tasks. Many of the things his other agents were involved in were long term projects that simply needed monitoring, but they did provide updates on those targets.

His secretary would more properly be called his spy master, but Quentin always thought the sense of drama that title instilled was beyond the exceedingly plain man. While the man’s appearance was excellent for his line of work, and also the result of a skill, it lessened him in the duke’s eyes. His intellect only partially restored that loss, but to the duke all that truly mattered was his loyalty. And that had been assured with multiple oaths, slave brands, and blood pacts instilled since a very young age.

Elinoria’s primary aide fulfilled the same function for her, although the woman was far from plain. He expected that it was some sort of women’s thing that he never wanted to understand, so he ignored it. Mostly he was just grateful that, despite the incompetence of her agents, her portion of the plan was still on track to success. There were a number of setbacks, but they were all minor things, serving only to prove how well matched they were.

Finally, the meeting with the new tutor.

Introductions were made, and once again he played nice for the lesser existences. Over the years he had discovered that they didn’t respond well to the truth of their existence, or him treating them as they should be. He’d eventually realized that they were too stupid to see the world as he did. They preferred the lie over reality.

Part of the reason that he preferred dealing with slaves, beyond the enforced loyalty, was that he never needed to lie about their value to him. It was also easier to measure their worth when you could assign a monetary value. Simple accounting could calculate a slave’s merit.

The new tutor was no exception. He had purchased the man through the simple expedient of paying off his debts. The fact that those very debts were fabricated specifically to catapult the man into debt slavery simply lowered his cost. On a cost versus value analysis, the man was an excellent investment. He was highly regarded as a tutor, having taught a great number of the more successful nobles of the past few decades. Had he spent his money more wisely, he may even have been able to buy a title of his own.

No matter his worth to the outside world, at the estate the man was just another slave. And slaves needed order.

“There will be three children in your charge. Marcus and Abigail our children, and their nanny, Adam. They are to be treated fairly, but your focus should mainly be on Marcus. As the heir to the DeVille name and estate, he must be the best. I will not have him shaming my family. Is this understood?”

“Yes, Your Grace.”

“Excellent. Now, about the nanny. Do not spend too much of your time on him. His education was abysmal, and no amount of tutoring could possibly bring him up to parity with noble born children. He will be allowed to attend classes and learn as he can, and can even access the library, but nothing more will be provided to him.” Instead of asking if the man understood, he simply waited.

“Of course, Your Grace.” It seemed as though tutors were smarter than your average man after all. It bore thinking about in the future. The man even knew the proper addresses.

“Do you have any questions about the children?”

“If I may, Your Grace, why include the nanny if he has no education?”

The duke released his earlier thought. Clearly, the man had no concept of how things truly worked. “Do you wish to care for the children’s needs when they are attending to their education?”

“Ah, brilliant, Your Grace. The only other concern I have is when I may test the children for their current educational levels.” The man had turned obsequious, an appreciated but unappealing look on a man to the duke’s mind. It was the equivalent of lessening their value in his eyes.

“My wife will attend to that. The servants will guide you to her after lunch.”

He ignored the man’s bowing and servile words. He’d already set the man straight with regards to what was expected of him, anything else was pointless.

It wasn’t like he needed to be guided and tested like the nanny. With the expected difficulties their many competitors would bring about in the future, the boy would need to grow very quickly indeed. The lesser beings needed adversity to promote their growth, instead of education. Creatures of instinct, peasants.