Only the Gods could know what thoughts are roiling in her mind. Did she seriously just invite Stronoff to tea? On what basis is that leaf-stained water of hers useful? She might just be trying to ingratiate relations with him, or act like an innocent princess, but what does that get her? Maddening.

Zanac was himself, entirely unsure what to think of her sister’s intrusion. He was sure it had something to do with gathering information, but he could not place concrete motives on his sister's actions. So much of her being was entirely enigmatic, and it pained him that he was the only person to see this. These feelings compounded inside of him when he remembered her father’s declaration of worry for her safety.

Father, did you really have to bestow her greater access to that false-knight of hers? Surely you recognize that she’s infatuated with him, do you want her getting ideas? Actually, he may not give a damn. A shame, she really should be married off as soon as possible.

Zanac found his father hard to parse, but mostly attributed his foolishness to an unjustified love for his children. In his eyes, Renner was in danger of losing her youth, and thus, her utility to the royal family as a political bargaining chip. He had spotted his father conversing about her fate with suitors at the ball five nights prior.

About time. As soon as she’s out of the palace, the better. I can’t stand the feeling of that monster’s eyes on me.

Zanac had long since regarded his little sister as a horror. In the runup to his ninth birthday, he had become genuinely convinced through his misunderstanding of necrology that she was a vampire, and he had taken every opportunity to guide her into sunlight. When she failed to incinerate in the gaze of daytime, he cycled through a number of different possibilities, spending a number of weeks talking with the librarian, demanding ever more complicated dark bestiaries. This, at first, seemed little more than a boyish fascination at the occult face of heroism and battle, and Librarian Yelta embraced most of his needs for a time - only cutting him off after he asked for an older copy of Codex Necrota. With time he grew out of this delusion, but still could never break the unnerving feeling she gave off.

Perhaps it’s all just misremembrance and the naive fears of childhood. Maybe she is no monster after all, I haven’t seen those traits in her since her youth, and who knows what tricks my mind played on itself. Still…

He struggled to return his thoughts to the matter at hand. Thankfully, she had already left the room, providing him with the sense of security he needed to continue.

What an inane crisis. To think that the Noble faction would collaborate with the Theocracy to kill Gazef Stronoff. No, to think the Theocracy would collaborate with the noble faction.

Zanac chucked at his inner joke, exhaling in frustration and dark humor. He took the flask by his side and swigged the spirit inside.

Challenging days demand fine whiskey. Gods, what a shitshow this whole affair is. This may take weeks to resolve.

The events of the tenth had already cut a groove into his mind, and he slipped into it, recalling what Gazef and his lieutenants had done in order.

Following the report made by a runner to E-Rantel claiming the presence of Imperial Knights, they departed northward. They encountered two razed villages, Usamsara and Delberg, only the latter of which had survivors. Gazef ordered his Vice-Captain Velthrop to take the survivors southward to E-Rantel, while he proceeded north to Carne. There, he found a score of dead knights, all the work of this “Ainz Ooal Gown”.

Zanac grimaced. He had little understanding of magic, less so for their casters. The appearance of one at such a critical juncture seemed like misfortune in the extreme, and he struggled to understand his motivations.

He spoke to this caster, who had made an armored hulk from nothing but the corpse of a knight, and set it upon its former fellows. Those bastards from the Theocracy set upon Gazef, killed most of his men, and right as he was to fall to the force of angels they summoned, found his place swapped with that wizard. By the time returned to the spot of battle, that character had already ended the lot of them. How vexing. To think we almost lost our Warrior-Captain, only to be rescued last minute by this Gown fellow.

Gazef had told this story in great detail to the shock and horror of those invited. He had determined in his conversation with the leader of the enemy forces that they had done this with the assent of the noble faction, an even greater perplexity.

They’re all an insane bunch. I could be told anything about them and I would believe it. Somehow this one wizard or sorcerer or whatever the hell he is - who, according to his own words, has spent so much time studying the chasm of magic in Tob that he forgot the goings of the world, and the world him - killed a squad of the elite forces of the Theocracy by his own hand; created an undead hulk by his own hand; and then later completely annihilated the Sunlit Scripture itself. What insanity.

Speculation on who, or what this person was had ensued. High-elf, dragonid, or perhaps even a litch. The latter idea had been shot down by Gazef however, saying that such a being would have needed to keep regular contact with the outside world for the harvesting of souls, lest its body wither away. None of this was helped by the fact that Gown had worn a mask, a full body robe, and had covered his hands. This had turned the enigma that surrounded him from frustrating to downright rage-inducing. This went doubly so for his companion, a black-armored, presumably from their litheness, female knight who Gazef described as having an unnerving gait and speed. Zanac was ready to throw up his hands and declare the pair another one of the mysteries of the world that humanity would never know, but the King had insisted at least upon an evaluation of their strength.

“No weaker than Parodyne.” How curt of our captain, but I suppose he could say nothing more. Frustrating. Whoever he is, he’s the least concerning aspect of this entire debacle. What can we even do? The foriegn response is easy. Simply pretend this never happened, and if we do speak on the matter, blame the Empire. The internal question is another case entirely. This is a matter of treason, but father in no way has the political leeway to execute someone over thus, much less the head of a rival house.

Zanac took another, much longer swig from his flask, only to stop when he felt it drain entirely. He put it down in disgust.

There’s no solution here. If we fail to act, there’s no telling what similar plots might come up. Alas, we have no information on who orchestrated such a plot among the Noble faction. They obviously intended to weaken the royals by doing so, but it’s difficult to tell who would go so far as to contact the Theocracy to do as such. What would they have even exchanged? I doubt those religious zealots would have accepted coinage.

“What a pain.”

Zanac felt something strike him at that moment. He turned to his brother, who himself was staring at the door trying to process his anger over his sister.

“She had no place being here.”

“Wha- Yes I agree, but brother?”

“What?”

“About your campaign in Bajan’s territory-”

“What is it?”

Gods you oaf! Can I not finish a sentence?

“Do you think any of the Imperials you routed were Theocracy?”

“No chance at all, my knights would have noted.”

Why are you so sure? What could possibly inspire such confidence in you at this juncture?

“How can you be so su-”

“I can distinguish the cowardice of an Imperial varmint from those damned clerics. Those bastards die easier and die better. There's absolutely no chance of such!”

Ah! He fears blame for this incident. If he failed to notice the incursion before, then that could be further fodder in the claims of his incompetence.

Zanac chuckled, Barbro’s face turning redder by the second.

“Why the hostility brother?”

“I am not being hostile, you should learn to control your tongue!”

Ah but my tongue is my bite. You’re showing your hand brother. Still, there are so many uncertainties.

“I was simply mentioning as such, still, this raises more questions than it answers.”

“Like what.”

I’m going to make you regret that snide tone in your voice; you can’t play at this as I can.

The tale has been taken without authorization; if you see it on Amazon, report the incident.

“Well, if this Ainz Ooal Gown fellow would come out to rescue a village that was being attacked by Imperial knights, why didn’t he come out a month prior? Could so much have changed for him in the last forty days? Captain Stronoff?”

Not realizing Zanac had directed his question at him, Gazef was only aware of the prompt to respond.

“Well, he said he was a recluse who knew little of the world. By his story, he apparently had left his laboratory right at the time the village came under attack, and chose to save them, your highness.”

“Do we really believe that? Besides, he did it in exchange for payment.”

“You’re highness, if I may?”

“Speak.”

“I think he may have been lying, your highness.”

Ahh you have a keen grasp of the obvious Stronoff.

“I thought we took that as a matter of course?”

“No, well, yes that too. Apologies, your highness. I meant that I think he was lying about saving the villagers in exchange for payment.”

Oh? Apologies Stronoff, it seems I spat insults at you too quickly. Ah, my brother seems ready to interject with some more foolery.

“What in the blazes would he do that for?!”

“Brother, isn’t it clear? Captain Stronoff is suggesting that Ainz Ooal Gown is a man of character. Am I correct Captain?”

“Exactly, your highness.”

“And being as the Captain himself is a man of character, it only makes sense that Gown would go out of his way to save him, and take no such previous action a month prior.”

Barbro was the only man in the room who did understand the insult, his misfortune doubled by the fact that it was levied at him. The military men, in addition to Gazef, kept their cool, but Ramposa had no interest in such games.

“Zanac Velleon Igana Ryle Vaiself, this is no time to throw backhanded jests at your brother! This is a crisis of kingdom and sovereignty and yet you find time to joke? That behavior wouldn’t be acceptable at half your age. He is the crown prince! Consider the consequence if anyone outside this room was party to such a piece of wordplay!”

Barbro only now understood that his brother's words were tantamount to calling him a lowlife.

“You scoundrel! You dare say such a thing to me, the Crown Prince?!”

“I apologize father, brother. Our enemies will all rue the day you are named King Andrean.”

Barbro shook, exercising what little self control he had in that moment.

You for must feel so proud for restraining your capacity for violence. Who would follow a crown prince that pulverizes his brother?

“Zanac, that is enough!”

“Yes father, I doubly apologize.”

“Brother, I feel it is time for you to take your leave.”

Ah, you almost sound dignified. Quite impressive, perhaps I could pin a paper star on your chest.

“Indeed, I agree so too.”

Zanac stood, and bid his farewell to his father with a shallow bow. He pocketed the flask he had so set aside earlier, and exited the room. His father’s paranoia had risen to new heights, and likewise to Renner, he too had received a command to be under additional guard. To that end, he had been given the service of Knight Alucian, who had been standing sentry outside the strategy chamber. Opening the door and looking to his left, he was dismayed to see Alucian speaking to his sister.

She never left?! She’s been making conversation with my bodyguard this entire time? Gods, I wonder if she’s been eavesdropping on my spat with Barbro.

“Ah, Brother! How are you?”

No, that’s not possible. The walls of that room are proofed both from skulks and arcanists. Besides, she’s obviously been speaking and listening to Alucian. It's not possible for her to have overheard what happened inside. Am I sure I’m not going to slip into senility before father does?

At the site of his charge, Alucian snapped quickly into a bow, but Zanac waved him out of it.

Again with the inanity from her! Of course I’m not doing well, the royals are in crisis! The best way for me to extricate myself from this is simply to humor her a bit.

“That’s more than halfway daft of you to ask, no?”

She gave an embarrassed laugh, setting her left index finger by her mouth as she did so.

“Eh? I suppose so. Forgive me for my foolishness brother.”

Maybe she truly is simple. In moments like this it would be near ludicrous to suggest otherwise. Although, how do I account for her actions as a young child? She’s uncrackable. Still, to think she’s been acting so impeccably all this time. Gods why does she worm into my mind at every site of her form?! I wish she would get married off and do so fast, if only so I never see her again.

Renner turned and gave a regal smile.

“Thank you, Knight Alucian. Please bid your wife a regal greeting, I wish her and your new child well.”

“Of course, Your Highness. She would be honored to receive such a message from the Golden Princess herself.”

She was just making small talk with my guard? What a strange thing. If this be an act of hers…

“Chardelon, would you mind not pestering my sentry?”

“Eh? Okay…”

Renner pouted in her typical fashion. Alucian himself was ready to genuflect, although he was unsure to whom he should direct his apology, bowing to both.

“I’ve had enough concern for a day, I’m going to retire to an early dinner.”

“Okay brother. Would you mind if I walked with you?”

Yes, I would mind!

“I hold no objection, but shouldn’t you be getting back to your room? You have no ground to play politics upon.”

“Well I need to get Climb first. That’s not too far from the hall you take your meals in, no? I’ll head back after.”

Shit, of course. She’s got me in a bind. How does she evade every remark I send her way?

Zanac started to walk, going as fast as his form would allow without sacrificing dignity.

I need to stay calm. Her presence is simply infuriating. What is she getting out of this? I doubt she’s but a little sadistic.

“Brother, should I be worried for father?”

“No, I wouldn’t be. He can handle the fallout of what’s happened.”

“Eh? But he seemed so afraid, doubly so for you and me.”

You can’t be so stupid to say as such! Surely you can tell that any hint of this making it out of that room will result in consequences beyond the mindless gossip you consume. Besides, you have no right to elevate yourself so much! Father’s fear is ridiculous, no, downright paranoia. Attempting to kill that commoner Gazef is in no way tantamount to a machination against royalty!

“Saying such things as that is dangerous Renner. He’s simply concerned for the state of the faction, not afraid for our lives.”

“But if he’s assigning us extra guards, then how can it not be as such? Does he not fear a plot of assassination?”

“In no way could we be at risk.”

“How can you be so sure? I don’t understand how-”

“The nobles collaborating with Slane to kill Gazef in the border lands in no way-”

Shit! I let slip the Theocracy’s involvement. Gods! Who else could have been listening to this conversation? I let her get under my skin and look at what she pried out of me.

“Slane?! You mean the Theocracy is-”

“Stop! Don’t say any more.”

Zanac was breathing heavily. As the conversation had escalated, his brisk pace had unconsciously escalated beyond the point of sustainability. He felt his heart pound. He closed his eyes and tried his best to stifle his emotions, although it quickly became clear to him that he would fail.

I must not fear. I am far too anxious to hold a conversation with this bitch. Dammit!

Opening his eyes, he saw Renner looking at him with concern. Confusingly, he failed to sense any hostile intent from her. Her enigma compounded, and Zanac found it harder to justify his foul preconceptions of her as a deceiver. She lowered her voice.

“Brother, are you ok?”

“Yes, I’m fine. Let's not discuss this any more.”

They walked in silence; importantly for Zanac, at a slower pace. The throbbing of his chest began to abate, the air he sucked in feeling all the more precious.

I didn’t see anyone nearby besides Alucian, and he’s not a great information risk. A lucky break. Still, I don’t like Renner knowing these things. Providing information to unknown quantities is risky, much more so when they know you didn’t want it disclosed.

“Say, brother?”

“What?”

“What do you think of Marquis Raeven?”

“W-what do you mean?”

“Whose side do you think he’ll take in this current crisis?”

Why does she want to know this? What relevance does she think it has? I should answer cautiously here, something generic enough to avoid suspicion.

“I imagine that snake will do whatever he sees as being in his best interest.”

Zanac caught the left corner of her mouth twitch. It was ever momentary, but it spun his thinking ever deeper.

“I agree.”

Was that not the answer she wanted to hear? What interest does she have in Raeven?

“Why do you ask?”

“Hm? Oh, no matter. I just struggle to understand the courses of action he takes from time to time. They sometimes feel so antithetical to the course of the Kingdom, no? Simply a copper for your thoughts is all.”

She’s after something, but what? Maddening.

Zanac saw that he had arrived at his destination, his soul exhaling in relief. He half-expected his sister to find some new excuse to follow him into the hall, but she continued walking past him. She waved goodbye.

“I bid you well brother! You too, Knight Alucian!”

“I bid you in twain, sister.”

Zanac uncomfortably watched her leave, anticipating her finding a reason to pirouette and return to his side. She took no such action, however, and when she rounded the corner at the other end of the corridor, he felt the tension ebb from his body. He took half a moment to reset himself, and walked inside.

I do wonder why she cared about Raeven.

—

So I can confirm the involvement of the Theocracy. I wonder how foolish Barbro must feel right now! How enjoyable. Still, it is a less critical matter than Zanac.

Renner felt giddy; this day was becoming ever more joyful.

It’s a fey-like fun goading insults out of him. I have no doubt that I successfully planted a desire to speak with Raeven inside of him. Even if he has yet to realize it, it will eat at him until he can no longer contain his curiosities. After that, I’ll simply ask Maid Laina her thoughts on the matter of my brother. Her response will tell me if they met. Even more progress today, etching an excuse for a council with Gazef. I feel as if I am in a position of power. No, I most certainly am.