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Walking through the halls, the king thought about what awaited him. For perhaps the thousandth time, he mentally reviewed how things had gotten to where they were. Just like his father, he had allowed his consorts to slowly take over his life.

It had started with his marriage to Marrisa. His mother had convinced his father of the need for him to start a family, and at the time, he wasn’t in any position to argue. After all, he had grown up with Marrisa, and they got along well enough. As friends, they had occasionally found themselves in bed together. She came from a powerful family, and the political gains would be substantial. After several discussions, everyone agreed it was a good match. Yet, neither of them expected how much they would eventually come to love one another.

Just two years later, Marrisa convinced him to take her best friend, Lydia, as his first consort. At the time, it was another purely a political move, intended to silence some of his detractors, and shore up his position as one the most likely candidates for heir to the throne.

More years passed, and while he was off adding to his reputation by fighting in the Highland campaigns, Lydia stayed home with Marrisa and the two of them acquired Carol and Sarah. By the time he returned, the two newcomers had already been formally accepted into his house, approved of by Marrisa and his mother.

One hundred years later, he met Helen while leading the navy’s campaign against the Orcish invasion fleet. And that naturally led to her bringing along the twins, Felicia and Merideth.

Walking down the hallway, he nodded to himself. ‘Yes, that’s when it started to get out of hand. I never should have introduced Marrisa to Helen. After that, I gave up the high ground and became surrounded.’

Ever since then, facets of his life had been slowly absorbed by the women in his life. His every choice was scrutinized, and decisions were made without his input. His woman carved up responsibilities in order to help him run the kingdom. Every time one of them took over a responsibility, he had one less thing to deal with. At first, it was helpful, but as time went on, he realized that the only time he would be consulted was if there were a problem only he could deal with. Not to mention the fact that he couldn’t remember the last time he was included in the decision to add a consort to their family. He was well aware of Lydia’s efforts in expanding the harem’s membership.

Just 250 some years ago, he came home from a trip to find out that under Lydia’s guidance, Helen had accepted an entire adventuring team into his harem. Granted, it was a great welcome party, but he barely knew those women. With as much time as they spent away from Hennings, he STILL barely knew them.

Looking up, he saw that he had reached the end of the hallway. The wide doors loomed like a last line of defense, holding back the wrath of his harem. He couldn’t help but chuckle to himself at the thought of how once again he had been called to task by his wife and their consorts. Despite how annoying they were sometimes, he loved them all dearly, even the ones he rarely saw.

At 853 years old, he could appreciate the wisdom of his father. The man had once told him, “You’re a strong man, and because of that, you will most likely marry a woman who will challenge you. Keep in mind that if you do, from then on, whether you like it or not, she will choose who you surround yourself with. Do everything you can to make sure that the consorts she chooses for you are on your side. You may think you can pick who you want, but that isn’t how marriage works. If you’re not careful, you’ll spend the rest of your life outnumbered, and behind enemy lines. Just look at me, I may be the king, but have you ever seen me decide what I get to eat for dinner if any of your mothers are around? Learn from my example, my son.”

Realizing that in the end, he had turned out just like his father, he squared his shoulders and prepared for battle. Although the women on the other side of that door outnumbered him, he wouldn’t shrink in fear. He may have lost some battles, but the war was as yet undecided.

Throwing open the doors, he saw his consorts and his wife relaxing on the numerous couches. Their conversations paused, and all eyes turned to him, awaiting what he had to say for himself.

He smiled widely, showing his affection for everyone in the room, and said, “Ladies, as promised, I’m here to lay to rest your worries. Gather round, and I’ll tell you of the game with fate that I’ve been playing.”

Pouring himself a drink, he watched the women move the couches and chairs in order to encircle the middle of the room.

As the whispers and guesses rang out, he took his position as the center of attention.

After taking a sip of his wine to wet his throat, his strong voice filled the room. “It started with an opportunity, provided by chance. A new piece was introduced, and with it… came possibilities,” he said with a slight grin.

The first ladies of Oglivarch sat mesmerized, waiting to hear what ridiculous plot their king had cooked up, and how it could have caused Lydia to have a meltdown in the middle of the throne room. His games were always interesting, and they couldn’t wait to hear what their love had to say for himself.

-----

Knowing that the entire room was waiting for Nero to state his demands, Victoria’s heart raced in anticipation. She could only hope that the young man wouldn’t gut House Blackwood. Or, at the very least, that she would still be alive to rebuild it over the coming years.

Nero’s voice was harsh as he succinctly outlined her position. “If we allow the law to handle this, your house will be disbanded. All of Lord Blackwood’s heirs, including you, will die. But I’m not completely without mercy. Since you didn’t know what your father was up to, and considering the fact that your brother tried to warn me, I think we can come to an agreement.”

Victoria didn’t respond, she just calmly met his stare. Rather than thank him, or offer meaningless platitudes, she patiently waited for his demands.

Seeing that she wasn’t going to say anything, Nero continued, “I propose that your father pays for his crime with his life, and that you take over his position as house head. Furthermore, I approve of your support of your brother. The man tried to do the right thing, and should be rewarded for that. As for monetary compensation, a one-time payment of 5% seems a little insulting. As the only member of House Walker, my death would essentially be the ending of my house. You’re offering to pay 5% of your house’s yearly revenue to save your entire house, and avoid the lawful repercussions for trying to end mine.”

Victoria’s face didn’t show any change of emotion. She calmly asked, “And what do you think would be fair compensation? I have a sister around your age, would you like her as a consort to demonstrate our family’s sincerity?”

Nero’s face flushed as he heard the entire room stifle their chuckles. Behind him, he could hear Nick not even bothering to hide his amusement.

After coughing into his hand, he replied, “No, that won’t be necessary. House Walker is currently partnered with House Verena in a transportation business. What I would like is for ‘preferred’ contracts from your production facilities for wagons and repair centers.”

Behind him, Vera corrected him over the link. “Preferential Nero, they’re called ‘Preferential Contracts’. Pay attention!”

Looking over his shoulder with a grimace, he glared at Vera in annoyance. Quickly turning back, he continued, “What I mean to say, is that I would like preferential contracts for your services. Say, for 50 years? It would financially tie our houses together and support the growth of your industry, while also aiding in House Walker’s efforts. Perhaps over time, the ties between our families can grow, and any animosity could be forgotten.”

Victoria thought through the proposal. Preferential contracts weren’t uncommon, but they were usual given as awards for new branch houses starting out, or more commonly used as currency in consort contracts and marriage dowries. They were essentially guaranteed percentage based discounts on services. Although it would cut into her profits, if she could limit the terms it might not be that bad. However, 50 years of discounts would amount to a great deal of money, depending on how many wagons and repairs were ordered.

She knew that House Walker had acquired Dorchen shipping after the recent Noble War. However, she also knew that as a new house, without any infrastructure, they would struggle to maintain their market share. Not to mention, Dorchen shipping was rather large to begin with. Most likely, this young lord brought in House Verena, whoever that was, to run things for him. Yet, even with their help, the shipping company would probably drastically reduce in size after the transfer.

If all of her assumptions were true, then this seemed like a great deal. In fact, it seemed like too good a deal. She was obviously missing something. Over 50 years, the cost of maintaining the contracts might add up to more than her proposed 5%, but not by much. However, she felt there was more going on than she was aware of. Her mind raced as she tried to find the trap.

Nero’s voice interrupted her thoughts. “The details of the contract would be worked out between you and my proxy. All I need from you is an agreement in front of the council, here and now, that you are willing to work with her in good faith. Otherwise, I’m sure there is another Blackwood that would be happy to take up the position of house head. After all, it’s entirely possible that you were culpable in this attempt on my life. It might be better to find someone more interested in positive relations with my house to take over House Blackwood,” he said with a grin.

Over the link, Nero asked Vera, “You really think she’ll agree to this? It’s going to cost her a fortune in lost profits? She has proof that she didn’t know about the assassination attempt, and her brother tried to warn me… why won’t she just let this go to trial?”

Nero felt her amusement as she answered, “It’s not about who knew what. The fact that her house head was involved calls into question the right of succession. If he’s found guilty, then a tribunal may find that the entire house is at fault. The branch houses may survive, but as the heir, she could very well be implicated despite her innocence. She needs this to disappear before her brothers and sisters find out. They would be more than happy to have her executed in order to take her spot as the new heir. In the end, she has no choice but to agree, if only to make sure that she maintains control of her house.”

Nero could only shake his head in confusion. Inter-house politics and the law were way outside of his comfort zone. When he found out that Sergeant Blackwood left a warning inside his mission packet, he had worried that his payday would be ruined. Yet it seemed that things were still coming up Nero.

Victoria concluded that she didn’t really have a choice. With a sigh, she resigned herself to the fact that she would have to spend the next few weeks eliminating her opposition, while doing her best to limit the scope of the preferential contract.

Squaring her shoulders, she raised her chin and said, “As the new Lord Blackwood, I would be more than happy to offer House Walker a preferential contract. While 50 years seems excessive, I’ll agree to it in order to demonstrate my sincere wish to form a strong and lasting friendship with House Walker. I’d also like to take this opportunity to formerly apologize for my father’s actions, and assure you that his death will not be held as a source of contention between our houses.”

Smiling, Nero replied, “That’s great. I’m looking forward to working with you. Or, better yet, I’m looking forward to you working with my proxy. You can expect my her to contact you soon. I’m sure between the two of you, the pref… the contract will be worked out. And for what it’s worth, I’m sorry about your father. But congrats on your promotion.”

Before anyone could say anything else, Arch-mage Jennings sat up from the table he was leaning against and loudly interrupted, “Alright, now that the matter of the Blackwoods is settled, let’s return to dealing with the actual problem. We need to ensure that House Cosgrave is not held responsible for this fiasco. After all, the city’s survival is at stake.”

Victoria Blackwood’s eyes widened comically, and she whipped her head around to stare at the arch-mage. “What do you mean? What’s wrong with the city? And why is House Cosgrave not going to be punished?”

Annoyed with her questions, along with how long it took to deal with what he felt was, at best, a side issue, he replied, “It’s not important. Forget you heard anything. Just go home and wait for House Walker’s proxy to contact you.”

Before Victoria could say anything else, the arch-mage waved his hand, and she was forcibly teleported back to where he had found her.

As she vanished in a golden ‘pop’, the entire room turned to stare at him. Jennings calmly returned their scutiny, with one eyebrow raised as if daring anyone to say anything.

The silence was shattered by Lord Bennings, whose voice was uncharacteristically loud. “Stop illegally teleporting people against their will! Every time you do that, I have to write a report and file it with the Tower of Law in Hennings.”

Waving his hand as if he were dismissing the issue, he turned away from the red-faced director of the local Tower of Law and stared at Nero.

“If you won’t agree to a marriage, then what do you want? What will it take for you to let this go?” he asked sternly.

Nero wasn’t expecting to be put directly on the spot. He was deep in his ‘political’ mode, and was expecting more double-speak and innuendo. Jennings’ direct question completely threw him. Not knowing how to respond, he looked over his shoulder to Vera, and asked, “Well? What do we want?”

Scowling, she just stared at him and mentally said, “I don’t know. What do you want? You can ask for money, I guess. But you MUST make sure the children die. Otherwise, you will be dealing with more assassination attempts. I still think you should just marry her, move up on the ladder, take the tax breaks, and put this all behind you. In my opinion, you’re overestimating the emotional responses from those involved. This is all just politics. They’ll get over it. But if you are really unsure of how you want to proceed, why don’t you ask them what they are willing to offer.”

Grimacing, he turned away from her. As far as he was concerned, she was not helping.

Looking across the room, he saw the city-lord sitting in her over-sized chair. She looked calm, patiently waiting to see if her house would be facing execution for her daughter’s actions. Just judging by her face, the woman didn’t seem to care one way or another. Nero knew that she was merely hiding her emotions, but it unnerved him nonetheless.

Sighing, he met her eyes and asked, “What do you think? Make me an offer.”

Raising an eyebrow in surprise, she replied, “I’m willing to do whatever is necessary to ensure that my house survives this debacle. I’d even be willing to take you as my husband. However, you seem to find that insufficient. I’m not sure what more I can give you.”

Nero shook his head in defeat. They just didn’t understand. Raising his hands to his side, demonstrating his openness, he said, “It’s not that I find you undesirable, or that I don’t want to move up the political ladder thing. I just don’t want to get married to a woman with a harem. If I’m going to be part of harem, I want it to be MY harem. Is that so hard to understand?” By the time he finished, his voice took on the tone of pleading.

One of the lords off the side, Lord Voltan, nodded. His voice full of understanding, he said, “I get it. You want to build your own house, make the name Walker ring out in the halls of power. There is nothing wrong with that. In fact, I, for one, find your enthusiasm admirable.”

Nods of understanding and agreement went around the room. Nero glanced over at Nick, and he could see that the man was nearly biting his hand to hold in his laughter. Scowling at him, Nero turned back to the room.

General Branson spoke up, “Alright, how about this. We execute the heirs and let House Cosgrave start over. As for compensation, let’s say 5% for 5 years. Throw in a contract of intent to support House Walker’s growth for 10 years and we can all go back to trying to make sure Dorchester is still here for you all to fight over it.”

Nero was about to object to the casual talk of execution when he heard Vera shout, “Done. House Walker will agree to those terms. City-lord Cosgrave?”

Stunned, Nero looked back and forth between the two women, and he saw the city-lord nod easily. She said, “Agreed. I’ll execute Deidre myself, and Derek will be dead by tomorrow night. That works out well, as we could really use the guards that are currently escorting him south.”

Lord Bennings spoke up, “Make sure the paperwork for the arbitration is filed by the end of day. Otherwise, the investigation will have to include the nobles. It will be much easier if the only ones involved are commoners.”

Turning her head to look at the arch-mage, she asked, “That mage you have in custody, is he a noble?”

Arch-mage Jennings shrugged, and replied, “Technically he is the 12th heir of House Trevan. I doubt they’ll care if he disappears. I’ll handle it by the end of the day. But, if something comes up, I’ll contact you.”

Nodding in response, Lord Bennings returned to her silent posture.

As if there were a silent agreement that the meeting was over, all of the nobles stood up at the same time, leaving Lord Bennings along with the general and the city-lord as the only ones still seated.

The city-lord addressed the lords, saying, “Thank you all for coming. You can expect House Cosgrave to remember your service to Dorchester in this trying time. I look forward to leading you all once again.”

The nobles all grumbled to themselves with frowns on their faces. After collecting their papers from their tables, they all headed for the door. Dutifully, their aides followed silently behind them, not saying a word.

In less than two minutes, the entire tone of the room had changed, and the remaining occupants started chatting with each other about what they all had put off to deal with this situation. General Branson was speaking with his aides, while the city-lord and Lord Bennings started talking about some meeting concerning immigration that they had been forced to reschedule.

Turning around, Nero saw that Vera was packing up her things with a slight smirk on her face, while Nick was chatting with Cathleen.

Spinning around, he saw Jennings waving his hands in the air, as if he were interacting with a hologram that only he could see.

Spinning once more, he looked around the room in complete shock. One minute, he was in the middle of a political minefield, doing his best to maximize his profits and out-maneuver his enemies. The next, everyone just reached an agreement, and called it a day.

Completely stunned, his jaw was hanging open. His blank stare looked around the room, seeing everyone completely forgetting that they had just been in the midst of a complex issue.

Unable to contain himself, he threw his hands up in exasperation and shouted, “What the hell! Are we done? Did we win? Are you really going to kill your own kids? What’s an ‘intent contract’? What the fuck is going on?”

The entire room had stopped what they were doing, and everyone was staring at Nero. He looked around the room, panting with exertion after his outburst. Even the aides were frozen in shock. They looked at him like he had just started screaming in the middle of a wedding.

Nero flinched as he felt a hand on his shoulder. Turning his head, he saw Nick standing there with a comforting smile on his face. Nero just looked up at him with eyes full of confusion.

Gently turning Nero away from the room, Nick put his arm around Nero’s shoulder and spoke in a soothing voice, “It’s OK now. The meeting is over. You did very well. Let’s go home, and I’ll explain what happened. We’ll get you something nice to eat, and you can finally have a shower. How does that sound?”

Nero let himself be led toward the doors, absently listening to what Nick was saying. Still confused, he tried shaking off his confusion, and whispered harshly, “Eat a dick, Nick. What the hell just happened?”

He really didn’t appreciate Nick’s condescending tone.

As they walked, Nick chuckled and replied, “You just got a free pass to open up whatever business you want, and get paid to do it. Your enemies are going to be executed. And, for the moment, no one is trying to kill you. Smile Nero, you’ll have a good nights sleep before we have to return to the wilds.”

Looking up at Nick who still had his arm around his shoulder, Nero numbly asked, “Uh… We’re going back to the wilds? When did we decide that? Seriously Nick, what the hell just happened?”

Nick’s smile faltered, and he sighed. His voice was starting to show his annoyance as he said, “Nero, just wait until we get home. I really need some sleep. We can talk about this later. For the time being, just pretend that everything is fine, and shut up.”

Frowning, Nero let himself be led through the halls, as he mumbled to himself, “Tell me to shut up… YOU shut up. Crazy fucking savages. Trying to marry me off to some old woman. Executing people left and right. These people are fucking nuts. Maybe going back to the wilds isn’t such a bad idea. At least the monsters out there make sense.”

Nick shook his head in amusement, listening to Nero quietly rant about the local customs. Since he’d met the young man, he’d learned that the one thing Nero hated was when people other than him actually made sense.

While Nero grumbled, they made their way through the halls, heading back to the Verana estate for some good food and Nero’s first shower in a week.

Comments

Adam Roundfield

They say it is all the switching of modes that really wears on people.

Ocean Breeze

As soon as you mentioned the adventuring team I started feeling bad for the king. Just a tiny little bit. Then I remembered that he's almost 900 years old and that feeling went away completely.