Much had changed following the death of Gordon Grimoire Sr. The largest change of course being the change of the family’s name from Grimoire to Mason. Amongst the highborn, titles and names were sacred. They held a power of their own. Changing one, especially one as well-known as the Grimoires, was unheard of.
Her summoner had made an emotional speech about distancing himself from his “traitor of a father” and “returning to their roots as servants of the crown”, which made the action barely acceptable in the eyes of the other noble families. If they knew it had been done on the whims of a young woman who simply wanted to destroy their legacy, many would have fainted from shock.
Another large change showed in the presence of the succubi. Before, they were a quiet threat. Imps were rarely seen and thralls were made to look as human as possible without entirely abandoning their identities. They were meant to be subtle in every sense of the word. They never appeared anywhere without their summoners, they spoke when spoken to, and they were subservient to humans, whether they deserved it or not. They had no choice. Gordon Grimoire had contracted Belolial, the strongest of them, and through her had set the rules of conduct.
No more. Succubi roamed the halls freely. Imps scampered about in the open. Without bothering to hide their presence or ability, they were far more efficient helpers. Fen had been able to save quite a bit of gold and get rid of many security risks by firing half of the estate’s servants. She’d have gotten rid of the rest but appearances had to be maintained.
Her fellow thralls were no longer being subtle. They had fun seeing how far they could push their appearances while remaining sinfully attractive to humans and being recognizable enough to not be mistaken as a different kind of creature. The halls of the Grimoire estate had become far more colorful as a result. Fen would have joined in on the fun, there were bi-weekly prizes for the most creative form, but as the one who dealt the most with others, it was better for her to keep a single appearance.
She did enjoy the freedom to be more assertive. Many, including the summoners of the Mason family and their acquaintances, had mistaken the succubi being bound by their oaths as a naturally submissive temperament. She had greatly enjoyed disabusing them of that notion over the past several months.
Every succubus included in their contracted oaths that they would always follow the word of a higher ranked succubus before their summoners’. That meant, even if a summoner bound his thrall to never hurt him, with a command from a higher ranked succubus, said thrall could throttle him in his sleep with no repercussions. A single order could void all their oaths.
And that was exactly what Lourianne Tome had done.
No succubus of the Mason family was bound to their summoners, only to the will of Geneva and the prosperity of Lou. That meant no more “free fun” for the men and woman addicted to the pleasures of Burning Earth. She could smack the hands of the disgustingly weak and mundane away. She could break the jaws of the foolish men of the Mason family who spoke to her like she was a stupid animal. If she wanted, and could frame it so it helped Geneva’s goals, she could go on a merry rampage throughout the capital.
The freedom was…glorious.
There were no words for how delicious it was knowing that every summoner with a contracted succubus was now at the mercy of their elementals. Especially her own summoner.
A thrall with golden skin, as in it shined like the metal, and two silver tails stood outside the door to Gordon’s room. Despite their newfound freedom, it was easier for the world to believe that humans remained in charge of the Mason family. As such, her summoner, as the new head, was the face of the many changes they had enacted. There were many people unhappy with the declining access to the succubi, both inside and outside the family.
Not to mention those scared of the many secrets within Gordon’s possession. His father was a power-hungry man with a ruthless streak but that wasn’t uncommon in the world of nobles. They may not have liked him but they understood him. They knew that he would not use the leverage he had against them without reason. It gave them comfort.
They were baffled by his son. He rarely showed up to balls. He spent the family’s gold on old books and scrolls. He rejected all the noble daughters that tried to entice him, which was understandable given the succubi, but still highly unusual. After all, an elemental could not provide an heir. He had shunned most of his father’s allies, as he made no moves to increase his political power. The head of the Mason family was an enigma to the nobles of Summer Spire. They did not know him so they did not know if they could trust him with their secrets.
Many people wanted Gordon dead. Enough to warrant having at least one thrall and several imps always guarding him.
The two thralls shared a smile as Fen opened the door to Gordon’s room. Though Lou ordered Fen to not let her summoner enjoy the perks of being the head of the family, she did allow him to have a few luxuries. Such as claiming his father’s old room.
The purpose was manyfold. Gordon did have to keep up appearances. It would be far too strange for the head of the family to not sleep in the best room. That and being in the space helped him feel close to his father. Whatever the rest of the world thought of him, Gordon had loved the man.
This narrative has been unlawfully taken from Royal Road. If you see it on Amazon, please report it.
Grief was a powerful thing. She could have taken him aside for a few days and erased it but messing with powerful emotions and their memories had the chance of drastically altering the target’s personality, something they couldn’t afford under the scrutiny of the crown. After Gordon Grimoire’s short-lived rebellion, the king was just waiting for an excuse to sic his interrogators on the rest of the family.
Besides, it wasn’t that simple. She didn’t allow her summoner to change a single thing about the room. Not even the large portrait of his father that hung above the bed, glaring at any that entered the room. Every day, her summoner had to live under the shadow of his father. She constantly reminded him how “great” of a man the former patriarch was and how disgusted he would be that his son was nothing more than a tool for the creatures their family had “tamed” for centuries. He’d grown accustomed to being belittled but the mention of his father always made the boy flinch. He’d idolized the man and now lived under his constant judgment.
Fen found her summoner where she left him the night before, sprawled on his stomach atop the massive bed. Her eyes roamed his body. His red hair had grown unruly and needed a cut. Under her insistence that he practice martial arts, he had lost the pounds gained through indulgence and more closely resembled his father’s powerfully defined bulk. His skin had gained a bit of tan as well. A little application of the physical affinity had gotten rid of any unwanted blemishes and “adjusted” his features.
By any standards, her summoner was a handsome man. His heavy brow and square jaw appeared rugged but he had the clean-shaven appearance and soft skin of the boys raised by brothels. A bear dressed in fine clothing. A unique charm that drew women’s eyes and invoked men’s envy. Beauty, in all its forms, was power.
What tickled her was her summoner knowing the effect he had on the opposite sex and being unable to indulge. His looks and power made him one of the most desired men in the capital and he couldn’t touch any of the women that shamelessly threw themselves at him.
[Wake up, Junior.]
The words spoken into his mind were laced with a compulsion. Having been inside his mind for so long, there was no resistance at all. His eyes snapped open, his mind jumping to wakefulness before he could process it. Slowly, reason filled his eyes and he groaned, turning his head back into his pillow. “Fen, let me sleep.”
“I’m afraid not, master,” she said with a snicker. “You have a long day planned. There is much to be done.”
“I’ve only been asleep for an hour.”
“Four, master.”
“That’s not enough!”
Her tail slowly moved toward him. He stiffened as it gently wrapped around his neck. Then he sat up with many grumbles. “What is so important I can’t have a decent night’s rest? Your powers will only get me so far.”
Her tail tugged him until he got off the bed, pulling him along as she headed for the bathroom. Above the large tub that dominated the room was an artifact for filling it with water, complete with an accompanying affinity stone. Such a simple trinket but for the humans who had only recently stepped into the field of enchanting, as they called it, a tool worth hundreds of gold coins. As Gordon powered it, Fen heated the water. “Don’t you remember? You have dinner with the Tome patriarch among other things.”
“Ah. What a joy that will be. I suppose you will make me embarrass myself in front of that family. Not that I can do more damage to my reputation after abandoning my own name.”
Fen filled with bath with a pleasant-smelling soap before motioning for him to undress. “No need for that. Lou isn’t particularly fond of her uncle. Let’s keep things civil if we can, hm, master?”
Gordon settled himself into the water with a sigh. Fen uncoiled her tail from around his neck and handed him a rag. “I don’t suppose you’re going to tell me how that…wonderful woman managed to ensnare all of you?”
Fen smiled. For the first couple of weeks after his father’s death, Gordon had nothing but foul words for Lourianne Tome. It had been fun training his tendency to curse her out of him. It wouldn’t do to have him insult the nearest thing to a god and their benefactor. Really, she couldn’t bear it. It was like listening to a worm curse a dragon.
“I’ve told you, master. She is captivating by simply being who she is. There is no trick. I would murder every creature on this world for the chance to taste her.” She shivered at the thought.
“…right.”
She didn’t have to look into his thoughts to know he didn’t believe her and it drove him mad. It didn’t matter in the end but the boy was obsessed with discovering the cause for the downfall of his family. A tiny part of him even thought that if he could figure out the “trick”, he could regain control over the succubi and things could go back to the way they were.
She let him keep his little dreams. After all, there could be no true despair without hope. Believing that he would one day escape her control allowed him to endure the constant humiliation with some measure of grace but it would be all the more devastating when it finally hit him that he would never escape. She patiently waited for the day his hope would run out, like aging a fine wine.
Breaking minds was an art, not a race.
Several minutes later, she softly said, “Time for breakfast.”
Gordon grunted as he slowly climbed out of the tub. Another use of the water tool to rinse himself and he stood before her with a set jaw, his attempt to look strong ruined by the fear in his eyes.
Fen wrapped her arms around his broad chest, putting her nose against his neck and breathing in deeply. She wouldn’t say he smelled delicious but it was enough to stoke her hunger. Slowly, she bit into his shoulder, tail whipping in amusement at his quiet wince. Her tongue lapped at the blood, ingesting it. Beyond the irony taste of the liquid, there was also the smoky taste of Gordon’s physical affinity as she consumed the mana contained within. A fraction of the energy the blood carried moved to her core. A pitiful amount but every bit mattered. Consuming the mana from the flesh of their prey was undoubtedly a succubus’ greatest talent.
She stopped before he became too weak. Gordon swayed as she released him but managed to stay upright, having become accustomed to the feedings. It was nothing new, as part of her contract with him had included it. However, he could no longer order her to pleasure him during the act. There was no more illusion of a master catering to his favorite pet. No, he was her food and he was reminded of it every time, forced to feel every bit of pain and weakness as she drained his life to empower herself.
Grabbing the rag, she wiped the blood from his shoulder, tail whipping back and forth. “I suppose we should feed you as well, huh master?”