Francesco walked straight towards Liora and Adarin. At the last moment, he swerved, grabbed a pear from the buffet, and stopped in front of Liora. He bowed and held out his hand. She graciously gave him hers, and he kissed it. Then, with a quick movement, the pear split in two, and he handed her a piece.
Then he smiled broadly.
“The newest disciple of the Master. It is a true pleasure meeting you, Priestess Liora.”
Adarin rolled his eyes and studied the fruit.
I wonder how much I have to power up Cornucopian Garden before I can mutate people’s food from a distance to contain laxatives.
Francesco continued as Liora merely smiled shyly and looked at her feet.
“Sir Adarin, it is. You are a most fascinating—” He paused for a second. “—person.”
Adarin studied the man and the pear he was eating—a perfectly juicy fruit.
“How did you end up in Rüdiger’s orbit?” Adarin inquired, his voice carefully neutral, just as he had learned over so many years in the Empire.
“Oh, he bought me from my father. Said that the debt the merchant house had run would be forgiven if his smartest son would be given to him for education. My dad obviously accepted—the old miser. So.”
Adarin tilted his head.
“You are basically his indebted servant, then. And I thought discipleship was supposed to be something of dignity here.”
Liora choked on the pear and stared at Adarin, but Francesco merely laughed.
“I was told I’d have interesting discussions with you. Apparently your views on statecraft, especially in the realm of security, are rather… pointed.”
He clicked his tongue.
Adarin studied the young man—his smug smile and the way he pulled up the side of his mouth as he noticed Liora studying him. She blushed.
Goddammit, Liora, keep yourself together. She’s a fucking priestess, and now she’s surrounded by all these political sharks. But I can’t just take her over and guide her like a puppet. She would explode.
His mind flashed back to her sitting defeated over the corpse of the necromancer girl, who had died due to her mercy given to the prisoners.
I really need to talk to her. I don’t think she’s stable at the moment.
Adarin turned to Francesco.
“I consider my perspectives those of good political science and ruthless pragmatism.”
Francesco merely smiled and turned to Liora.
“Priestess, what is your view on affairs of policing and security? Do people not require ideals to function? Who would we be without something to strive for?”
Liora smiled even more broadly, and Adarin rolled his eyes.
Wow, what a cheap fucking shot.
Adarin shook his head with mock sadness.
“Ideals are the quintessence of what a strong leader brings to a state. There is no such need for sentimentality and idealism within the people—though I expect that a culture such as yours would not have the educational means to ensure proper adherence to state doctrine. Therefore, as a primitive state ideology, religion in your sense seems functional enough.”
Francesco tilted his head.
“So you would rule with an iron fist. And what if that hand is not strong enough to hold it all together?”
Then Adarin smiled viciously.
“It needs to get better at crushing things.”
He shook his head as if disappointed in a child and, as if by accident, got out a napkin and cleaned Liora’s hand where juice from the pear had run down it.
The sound of a woman clearing her throat made him freeze up for a split second as she stepped into their circle, deliberately and directly between Liora and Francesco.
If you discover this tale on Amazon, be aware that it has been stolen. Please report the violation.
Guildmistress Jacqueline.
She inclined her head to Adarin and gave Francesco a look. Liora was studiously ignored.
“Sir Adarin, I hoped to speak with you.”
She idly picked a grape from the bunch she was carrying around.
Is menacingly eating fruit whenever you have an important conversation a cultural thing in this world?
She turned to Francesco and smiled, showing too much teeth.
“I trust that you were not getting too engaged with the occult concerns of some village priestess?”
Liora took a sharp breath in, her hand tightening on the remnants of the pear, juice wetting her fingers again. Jacqueline didn’t even deign to look at her.
“Sir Adarin, I’ve heard your worldview is quite practical. May I ask you a question?”
Adarin waved a manipulator.
“You already did, did you not?”
She smiled radiantly.
“I see we shall get along very well. What do you believe the backbone of Rüdiger’s power is?”
Adarin thought furiously. He’s a powerful mage, but martial power alone rarely brings a stable state. He’s also a great showman. He knows how to wield theater. He glanced around the room. However… the Guildmistress, the background in economics, the nature of his constitution… he has backing from the merchant class. He’s probably built quite a formidable power base in his homeland…
He shared his musings aloud.
“Has he not, Guildmistress?”
Jacqueline smiled like a cat who had found an interesting toy.
“Oh, not just in his homeland. Throughout the entire West, his limited liability companies have brought great wealth to those with the vision to align themselves with him—though he is not very popular with much of the aristocracy, I must admit.”
“Interesting. So this is a corporate state, in many ways.”
Adarin swirled a manipulator lazily through the air.
“So what is your goal? What do you think is the most important thing for the success of the Republic?”
He spat the last word like something dry, stale.
She chuckled melodiously.
“You strike me as a man who would rather see a strong monarch at the head of a state. Well—so do our investors. But Rüdiger fulfills the role, no matter his…” She clicked her tongue. “Eccentricities, in terms of organizational structure.”
Adarin sneered inwardly. Eccentricities? These people are centuries behind him in organizational science, and they call it eccentric. No wonder he’s amassed a fortune. Or at least—I assume that’s how all of this came to be.
Liora interjected softly.
“Well… despite all of that power, he’s made powerful enemies, hasn’t he?”
Jacqueline made a dismissive gesture.
“His allies are more powerful. You should remember that. Though it might not be obvious to you. You’re more familiar with the provincial politics here in the Holy Land than with those of the western Empires or southern Kingdoms.”
Liora bristled, taking a breath, ready to shoot back—
—but Francesco chose that moment to make an unwise move.
“Surely the two ladies would not want to spend this day in such a manner? After all, it is a joyous occasion, is it not?”
Jacqueline looked at him.
“Maybe some get too carried away with celebration on such a day… out of sense. Or maybe even out of a sense of frustration that they are no longer the pet owner’s most interesting toy.”
Liora and Francesco both turned to stare at her. Francesco merely gave a canine smile.
But Liora hissed,
“Don’t you dare call me a toy again. I am a priestess of the Mother. I only became his disciple—”
“You only became the disciple of one of the most important men of our time. Truly, what an accident.”
Tears welled in Liora’s eyes at Jacqueline’s biting comment.
“I didn’t want any of this. They kept dying and—”
She turned to Adarin, eyes silently pleading. Then she ran.
Jacqueline chuckled behind an upheld hand.
“Seems the rumors are true. She is but a provincial priestess with great magical power,” she whispered in a lower tone Adarin suspected was meant only for Francesco. “And a very attractive body, right?”
The young man’s face reddened and turned slightly purple, anger and shame battling for supremacy. Adarin inclined his body slightly.
“Well, I shall see what worthy company I can find in other places. Have a nice evening.”
He turned and left, scurrying after Liora, who had run out of the hall under the disapproving and mocking glares of the crowd.
Thanks for reading — let me know in the comments what you thought about the chapter!
Upload Schedule: Mon, Wed, Fri at 4:47 PM EST / 10:47 PM CET
Join my Discord to talk to me and other fans:
Want more? Want to support my journey towards being a full-time writer? Join my Patreon for 30 extra chapters (6 weeks ahead):
