RFC-ARC 4-Royal Pains-Part 9 (Patreon)
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I pace in front of my bed, no doubt looking every bit as stressed as I feel. It can’t be helped. The encounter with the prince and Bell’s subsequent revelation has been weighing on my mind for the whole day. Once Kierra arrived, I convened a meeting of the family to figure out how to deal with it.
Having barely enough time to walk through the door before being hit my panic, my wife is in the process of undressing, a sight that would be more than a little distracting if I weren’t busy being worried about the fate of the country. As she drops her sleeveless leather vest over the side of the bed, Geneva enters the room with a tray laden with slices of fruit, two glasses, and a silver pitcher.
She expertly hops onto the bed while balancing her burden, taking her place besides Kierra and setting the tray between them. My wife chews on the snacks while Geneva pours drinks. Bell climbs the bed, eager to get in on the treats, but has to endure Kierra’s attentions, letting my wife pat her smooth stone skin before she hands over a piece of fruit.
The lack of tension in this room is playing havoc on my nerves. On the one hand, it’s soothing. On the other, I’m a little upset they aren’t taking my concerns seriously. “Okay. Bell, recount everything so we’re all aware of the facts.”
“Coo!” The imp raises her head. [Master Lou, after I sensed the bad intentions of the prince, I scanned the rest of his group to evaluate any threats. The boy who spoke up stood out. He holds extreme enmity toward the prince along with great restraint.]
“So, you didn’t see anything about a threat?”
[Nothing direct. It is a conjecture based off my experience.]
Her decades, maybe centuries of experience. My initial plan, denial, is a failure. On to the backup plan, avoidance.
“This is all very terrible for the prince but it has nothing to do with me. No one knows that I know. I just keep my head down and focus on my studies, let him deal with his own enemies.”
“Are you sure that is a good idea?”
I look to Kierra, my eyes begging for her to keep whatever rationale she’s about to spout to herself. She picks up an apple slice and bites into it with a loud crunch. I feel like it’s my future she’s chewing into mush.
“You could leave it alone and there is a chance that nothing will happen. However, think of the worst-case scenario. I’m not sure about human nations but if someone were to kill a member of my family, it could lead to a blood feud or, if it were an outsider, a provincial war. What if something like that occurred because you let the prince die?”
“Civil war.” That’s hard to argue with. Farewell, avoidance. I would have loved for you to stick around but it’s not meant to be. That brings me to the dreaded final plan. Involvement.
Sigh.
“It’s not the end of the world.” Kierra accepts a glass of wine poured for her by Geneva. “All you have to do is expose this assassin and I’m sure the royal family will handle the rest. There could be a good reward in it for you.”
“Yes, a reward. And recognition. Lots of recognition from the royal family, who I want to never know I exist until I can level this continent with a single spell, and the people who want the prince dead.”
Because there is no way this is a personal grudge. Even if someone hated him enough to kill him, which I can easily imagine, they wouldn’t get far without the support of someone with some serious power. This would-be assassin wouldn’t believe strongly enough that he could kill a member of the royal family for Bell to pick up on it unless he is completely insane or has powerful support from people who will not be happy if I ruin their plans.
“No. The best scenario would be to make the prince aware of the danger without anyone knowing of my involvement.”
“If you like, I could simply plant a paranoia of his friend in his mind,” Geneva offers.
“A good idea but…if the prince suddenly changes personality, people are going to be suspicious. As in, Head Inquisitor suspicious. If you’re discovered…”
“No one will be able to detect me given time.”
“Time we may not have,” Kierra points out, extending her empty cup for the succubus to fill. “What if the boy drops dead tomorrow? How much time would you need?”
“To be sure? More than a day. I would like at least two months to be sure, but people might get suspicious. A year or more and I could naturally have him thinking he’s a dog if I wanted, the changes so slow and subtle no one would question anything.”
“A year? Really?”
“If you want me to be completely untraceable, yes. The mind is a delicate but powerful tool.”
“Ahhh, we’re getting off track!” I shout, interrupting them. “Just because we’re getting involved doesn’t mean I have to save him. I don’t want to save him!” Hmph! Just because I won’t speak up doesn’t mean I forgive him. If he wasn’t a royal, I’d have taken him apart. Don’t expect me to lift a hand if he’s bleeding to death next to me. “I just want to know what’s going on. Figure out what is happening and the consequences before I go sticking my neck out for a royal.”
Kierra nods. “Solid reasoning. Now, you just have to investigate without being noticed.”
“I can be discreet. And I have a few connections. Mano came through for me last time in exchange for a favor. Better, Talia! He lives in her dorm. If anyone can give me information on the prince, it’s her, and she’s in the perfect position to shield me.”
Yes, this can work. Once I’m sure that pretty boy’s death won’t start a civil war, I can forget about this mess and get on with my life.
“I’m glad you’re feeling better.”
I give the insensitive elf a glare. Geneva, reading my thoughts no doubt, grabs the tray and vacates her place on the bed as I stalk forward, climbing onto the sheets. “You could be a little nicer. I’m really worried over here.”
“Yes, your infamous weakness for royals.” Kierra rolls away from me, setting her wineglass on a table stand. Giving me a cold shoulder?
I shamelessly crawl over to her, putting an arm around her waist and pressing my forehead against her shoulders. “Don’t be like that.”
“I don’t enjoy watching you quiver like a scared rabbit.”
“Oh, come on. You know—”
She suddenly rolls us over, our eyes meeting as she smirks. “I didn’t say I didn’t understand. I said I don’t like it. I don’t like the fact that a coo’mio’welp (fangless little dog) has the audacity to threaten you and your hands are tied. In the Dusk Province, one couldn’t make threats they themselves can’t enforce, no matter their station. It is frustrating.”
Aww, she’s mad for me. My heart flutters at the thought and I pull closer to her. “Don’t worry. I’ve been dealing with his type for years. Just think of the day when kings and dragons alike will have to bow before us.” One day, I won’t have to care what a princeling thinks of me.
“Perhaps we will have his skull as a trophy.”
“Um...sure?”
“Perhaps by the time kings are groveling at your feet, you will have gained an appreciation for elven culture.”
I press my face into her prodigious chest, letting out a groan of contentment. This is culture. “I appreciate every elven bit of you.”
“Coo~”
I reluctantly extract myself from heaven and turn my head. Bell is staring at us intently, crouched like a stalking predator. Oh saints, she’s giving me that look. The one that makes me really nervous.