-=- Ginsu Mage -=-
S1E7: Pacts and Bargains
-=- \/\ //\ \/// //// //// // \/ /\/ \\/ \/\ -=-
She brought the tumbler to her nose and sniffed. “It smells like Dwarven spirits,” she murmured, taking a sip. Rolling the liquor around in her mouth for a moment, she swallowed then exhaled. “Hiras! It’s strong stuff!”
“It’s good stuff,” I grinned, sipping my own glass and watching her take another swallow. “I have a million questions, princess. Care to answer them?”
“If I can,” she replied, finishing off the glass and hesitating, then holding it out for more.
I poured another finger in her glass. “I assume you stayed by my bedside all night. Why?”
She mulled over the question as I poured and answered “Because… I was worried about you.”
“Bullshit.”
The word blurted out before I could stop myself. Where were my masks? I should have one one to deal with this attractive piece of royalty in front of me… but.. If I were honest with myself, I didn’t feel the need anymore. The nearly overwhelming sense of people judging me was gone. While I wouldn’t say I was exactly comfortable in her presence, I was … Guarded, but relaxed. I didn’t feel the urge to pretend to be someone else.
The princess snapped her head back like I had slapped her. Maybe she wasn’t used to people being so blunt?
“You could have asked a servant to tend me and let you know when I woke, but you stayed. There’s a reason for that. You’re invested in me, either for personal or political reasons. Probably both.”
She swirled the scotch in her glass, focusing on the liquid then peered up at me. “Are you sure you’re not a noble? You pick up on things quickly.”
“Middle class all the way, Princess.”
“What’s middle class?”
“Just enough money not to revolt, not enough money to change the system.”
“Sounds horrid.”
Stolen from its original source, this story is not meant to be on Amazon; report any sightings.
“Billions of people make such mediocrity their life’s goal,” I shrugged.
“Billions? How populous is your nation?” she asked incredulously.
“My nation has about 400 million,” I replied. “My world has almost 8 billion.”
“That’s an incredible number,” she said, voice filled with awe. “How do you feed them all?”
“We seem to have taken a bit of a detour,” I said, motioning at her with my half empty glass. “You were telling me why you stayed up all night by my bedside, and you were going to be completely honest and to the point.”
I could see her imperceptibly straighten as if she was preparing for a performance. Was that what I looked like when I put on a mask?
She took a deep breath and said, “Very well. Honest and to the point. I want you to marry me.”
I sat back in the chair and regarded her for a moment. She wasn’t a bad looking woman. She stared back, her face carved porcelain.
“No.”
Her eye twitched just a tiny bit. “Why not?”
“Many reasons. The first one is that if you’re asking me, it’s a shitload of trouble and I’m certain I don’t want to be involved.”
I watched her mask crumble.
“It is a lot of trouble, and it is selfish to ask, but…”
“Damn right it is,” I snapped. “I was kidnapped from my home, brought to a foreign world, and you hold immense power over me. It’s very selfish. Let me guess: you’re going to be married off to some foreign royalty you don’t know and latched onto me hoping I would prevent it. There would be political consequences, but you’re hoping that everything will work out because I’m the so-called Champion.”
Her mouth dropped open, then she laughed. “Close, but no prize. My husband died before I could produce an heir, so I had to remove myself back to the palace. I have no suitors because… I am probably barren.”
She said the last with downcast eyes.
“Ah, I’m sorry for your loss,” I said. I never knew what to say to stuff like that. I hate this awkward feeling.
“It was a political marriage,” Navonne spoke matter-of-factly, her voice devoid of emotion. “There was no love there. Still, we were friends and I shall miss him.”
“So why do you want to marry me?” I pushed. “Another loveless political marriage? Tie the Champion to your kingdom?”
Her eyes flashed with something. Anger? Guilt? “The kingdom is in dire straits, so father sought advice from Vizier Demandrope who suggested seeking aid from the Church of Hiras. A bargain was struck with Sabir, the High Priest of Hiras, that I would join the Church as a nun in exchange for assistance. After Sabir made a pact with Hiras, the goddess provided a celestial stone for Havlok’s gate and then the Modus called forth a Champion. That’s why you’re here. The Modus choose you.”
She paused for a sip of scotch, wincing as it burned her throat. “Magister Johnson, I am selfish. I have no desire to become a nun and spend my days in the church communing with Hiras.”
“Well, maybe you shouldn’t have agreed to it,” I said.
She slammed the glass down on the table, causing the only scotch in this universe to slosh over the sides. “I didn’t agree to it! I’m an unmarried woman! I have no power! Do you know what it’s like? Have you any idea what it’s like to be raised like this, to be educated, shown a greater world, and have no power to influence it? To be bought and sold like a horse? Worse than a horse, a game piece?”
Fuck me. What the hell kind of medieval bullshit … oh, that’s right. Medieval Fantasy Universe.
A game piece. A pawn. Let me think about this.
I watched her fume as I took a sip of my drink. The alcohol was finally starting to kick in so my inhibitions were loosened and thoughts flowing freely. We stared at each other across the table.
“So if I marry you, I’ll piss off this Sabir guy, right? Tell me what I would gain by angering the high priest of… Hiras?”
“Hiras,” she confirmed. “My father would protect you. And even though I was named in the bargain, Sabar and the goddess are more concerned about the mana than who is providing it. Others could be found to provide that mana.”
“You speak as if Hiras is an actual person.”
“Hiras is the goddess of Nigos. The Church houses the relics which store her spirit. It is through them that she is able to provide power to the clerics who perform miracles in her name. While I am not a powerful psychic, I would be expected to pray every day and exhaust myself in service providing mana to Her. It is little better than slavery.”
Huh. It sounds like gods actually exist here. I should definitely revisit this topic at another time.
“It sound like a lot of trouble to me,” I said. “And I’m not sure I want to buy into it.
A knock at the door interrupted our conversation.
-=- \/\ //\ \/// //// //// // \/ /\/ \\/ \/\ -=-
[[ Next chappie 27 Nov ]]