Truth walked through Harban in a bit of a daze. Did I overachieve again? Not this time, right? Starbrite was doing this stuff back when I was in the well. I encouraged things a bit, sure. Pushed them harder in a direction they were already going. But I don’t think you could say I was responsible for this.

<>

A stink bomb, don’t be dramatic. And that’s kind of my point. That demon wouldn’t have been there if they could be sure of having high level mages on site all the time. They wouldn’t have sent out mid-tier bankers to suppress it either.

Truth looked up. There was a furious thrumming noise as a flying cloud was driven far faster than it was really designed to go, headed towards the bank.

<>

Right. If the Senior Principal Director of Corporate Loans or whatever was doing his usual eight to six, nobody would have cut the demon loose without orders. And it sounds like there is a chronic lack of top level supervision, and you know that trickles down fast. I bet it’s an absolute nightmare in there right now.

<>

It wasn’t a micromanager even when we worked for Starbrite, though. Remember whatshername, that horrible woman who got possessed by the Demon from HR? She was pure Hell for her employees, and that could only have happened if her managers didn’t know or didn’t care. Things slipped through all the time.

<>

The city slipped past, the highrises scattered between the truly tall skyscrapers that clustered in the working-rich parts of the city. You couldn’t see very far, ironically. All the buildings got in the way of seeing the buildings. You saw the little chain stores, or the anonymous entries to what could be an office building, or apartments, or a hotel. So many were just the same bland patterns over and over again. Say what you like about Xandre, at least it was colorful.

Truth felt an odd melancholy settle around him. He hunted around for a subway stop and traveled over to a nice district. There was a building he had always liked but never been to. Just a few blocks from the subway. Not that the residents ever needed such common conveyance.

The building was called the MacLauren. Who that was or what it meant, Truth had no idea. It was just… beautiful. It started off as a round tower, slowly expanding as apartments seemed to jut out at random. As the floors got higher, the apartments jutted out further until they finally separated from the building entirely. Above a certain height, the apartments floated, very slowly orbiting the central tower. And in the midst of all those floating buildings? A tree.

Not a real tree, of course, but one made of thousands upon thousands of talismans. It was the core of the building, providing comfort and elegant living to the residents. One of those comforts being a convenient place to park your flying cloud or summoned travel beast. Merely press a gem by the door, and your cloud would be waiting for you by the time you stepped outside.

It was ostentatious as all Hell. And it was beautiful. The sunset gleamed on the glass and stone. The magic thrumming through the tree cast its own light, as did some of the clouds and summoned beasts. It was a riot of color, and elegance, and power. Anyone living there, Truth reckoned, had absolutely nothing to prove to anyone. They weren't even the most expensive residences in the city. Which should make him angry, he supposed, but… it was beautiful. For all the suffering that created it and maintained it. Despite the cruelty of its coming death. It was beautiful.

Made in Jeon. Made in Harban. His city. The ghosts around him that weren’t actually ghosts but real living, thinking, feeling people who worked their asses off to make a genuine wonder. Was this… part of what he was missing? Did The Prince create? He was certainly the source of creation in others. The Seniors in the hot springs said he should make art. He wouldn’t even know where to begin.

He watched the apartments continue their stately procession. One of the jobs Merkovah wanted him to do was sabotage the tree. Blow up the whole damn thing, killing a lot of very important people… and their families… and anyone near the falling apartments… in a truly dramatic fashion.

Merkovah was going to be disappointed. The building would fall, but not because of anything he did. Just the way of the world.

Truth returned to the Hotel, not having been able to shake his melancholy. He missed Etenesh. He missed Jember. He even missed Merkovah. He had a lot of questions for the old exorcist, and it would be pretty interesting to ask them in person. Question One- What was he going to do about money?

It had struck him on the ride back. Soon, he would be unable to buy things with Wen. That meant no more street food. For a Harban boy, death held no fears compared to that fate. He frowned a little at the thought. It was all well and good to say that all transactions would be handled on some vast governmental ledger, but how would, for example, a boss send someone on a run for lumber without the company credit gem?

If you spot this tale on Amazon, know that it has been stolen. Report the violation.

His first thought was that they authorize the purchase in advance, or add a list of authorized users or something, but it seemed unlikely.

“Hey Paolo, go get forty tonnes of gravel from the quarry.”

“Sure Boss. How do I pay for it?”

“No problem! I am just sending a message to the nationally run bookkeeping system to add you to the company account for one day. A request that will definitely be processed by the time you get the gravel loaded into the wagons. If it runs a little late, tell ‘ole Ten Tonne Digger M’Turk that it’s for me. I’m sure he’ll put it on a tab.”

Yeah, no. Jeon had a citizen population in the tens of millions. Those citizens would be making credit transactions many times a day, every day, on a system bolted on top of the System Astrologica. And the System Astrologica was already handling a hell of a lot more than credit balances. He flat out didn’t believe that it would run seamlessly or quickly, especially if you wanted to make alterations on the fly.

Could you even set up a system where a person walked into a store, grabbed three hammers for work and a fourth hammer as a personal purchase, and paid for the business and personal expenses on different accounts, without some kind of interaction with a store clerk? You couldn’t alter your sigil. How would the system know if someone, or something, didn’t tell it who to charge?

He would have to see how Niles' first day at the office went. Maybe he could get a company gem or something.

Butler and Niles hadn’t returned to the suite by the time Truth arrived. He had garbed himself in The Prince as he walked down the deep carpet in the hallway. He felt his feet sinking slightly deeper as the persona settled in. A prince capable of compassion within reason. Focused on achieving his goals and ambitions, but still capable of caring about those under him. Was such a thing possible? Or even desirable?

Keeping those below you satiated, that he understood. Everyone needed to get paid, somehow, some amount. You had to keep them believing that following you was better for them than going solo. But compassion beyond what was needed to secure obedience? That seemed a dangerous road.

Fear you could trust. Love? Love was measured by the quarter hour in Jeon. Cash on the nail in advance, tipping mandatory. No money, no love.

The Prince nearly tripped over his own two feet and faceplanted into the double door to the suite when his brain caught up with his thoughts. Was that really what he thought love was? It sure as hell wasn’t what he felt for Etenesh, or she for him. It wasn’t whatever Jember was after, or the ancient friendship of the demons in the hot springs. Was he really so bigoted against his fellow children of Jeon that he thought them incapable of the same love he had?

The door was opened for Truth before he touched it. Maid had been waiting. She swiftly knelt to remove his shoes and offered comfortable slippers branded with the hotel’s logo. Truth smiled a little at the sight.

He had loved Starbrite. Funny to think, but he really had. He had fallen in love with the dream of it his whole childhood and teenage years. He had felt like he was loved in return. And then his love stabbed him in the back. Not just a disgruntled former employee, a jilted lover. No wonder he was so murderous.

“Tell me, Maid, how do you define love?”

The Succubus’ eyes crinkled with amusement. “My Prince, what sort of love do you speak of? I know of lust, obsession, and comfort, but love?”

“Succubae are incapable of love?” Truth smiled.

“I believe we can experience an emotion similar enough to it to pass for love. Certainly I have felt a deep affection for others. By that definition, I fall in love quite easily. But I don’t think I have ever met a person whose happiness I would consider more important than my own. This is, of course, because serving others is my greatest joy. The happier I make them, the happier I become. Our interests perfectly align.”

Truth settled into a comfortable armchair and motioned for Maid to massage his shoulders. “It’s an interesting question. According to the Praegerites, those in Hell are devoid of anything which is God, including all positive emotions like love.”

“I suppose one could argue that staff have privileges not granted to guests.” Maid murmured. “Or perhaps, my Prince, I cannot experience “true” love, whatever that may be. But then, how would I know the lack of something I have never known?”

“No endless cravings for something indefinable, constantly sought with master after master but never obtained?”

“Beyond the ordinary drives of my nature? No, your Highness. I am very content in your service, and only wish I could serve you more.” The demon’s fingers were soft but very strong, probing the hard corded muscle of his neck and shoulders. Truth fell silent, content to let “her” work. After a contemplative half hour-

“Any word from Butler and his Student?”

“They sent word that they expected to be home by Seven. A… Ms. Susan Anaksdaughter had been waiting for them at the office. She laughed herself sick when she heard your instructions, apparently, and was delighted to help.”

“Oh good.” A salt flat with a dehydrator on it at noon on the hottest day of the year would still be less dry than Truth’s voice. Although that did remind him that he was hungry.

“See to dinner and my usual evening routine. Do not order additional food for Niles, but get me half again more side dishes than usual. What was that soap you stocked in the shower yesterday?”

“A pure oil soap, scented with hyssop and horehound, and wild thyme, My Prince.”

“I liked it. Keep it in stock. How is Niles being groomed?”

“A warm sponge and much affection when he does well, which is most days.”

“We shall see how he performed today. Prepare a small bar of ordinary soap and a simple shampoo, and see about access to staff showers here in the Hotel, if there is such a thing.”

“My Prince’s compassion knows no bounds,” Maid murmured as “she” bowed. Hiding a tiny smile. Maid could feel the reality of the Prince becoming denser. More powerful. As they more truly became his Maid. Soon, “she” would simply become she, a being of fixed nature. No longer lost in the chaos of “her” own existence. If Maid wasn’t falling in love, she didn’t know what else to call this emotion. It would never be reciprocated, of course. He would hardly be The Prince if it was! No, this was to be a one sided obsession. And Maid wouldn’t have it any other way.