H - 36: The Simplest Thing Then Would Be to Just Kill You (Patreon)

“I don’t…think my life is in danger,” Perseverance said slowly, frowning, then suddenly glanced around the room and grimaced. “I mean, um, at home, not…you know. I mean… I do not believe my family would have me killed. But, um… There are other ways to get rid of an inconvenient princess. And…I don’t know how it is in Rhivaak, but in Boisverd even the royal family doesn’t rule absolutely. Power is relative, that’s how Mother always puts it. It is, um, widely held that…”

She lowered her eyes again, staring glumly at her teacup. After a moment even Pheneraxa paused in her ecstatic chewing to regard the princess in mild concern.

“Can you explain your situation, Percy?” Izayaroa asked softly. “I am sorry to ask it, as I can tell this is a trying subject for you. But we are very much in the dark about the inner politics of Boisverd, and as I’m sure you understand, these details are imminently relevant to what you asked of us.”

“Yes, of course,” Percy sighed. “Right. Well. Okay. My father was King of Boisverd. My mother passed away when I was very young; I only barely remember her, and only in vague impressions. He married my stepmother Henrietta von Holtzmann, which combined two smaller kingdoms. Boisverd became the name of both, and our city was the capital, and in exchange she kept her surname and her line was to inherit. She already had a son, and I…”

She paused for a moment, looking away to the side.

“Well. Even that early there were…questions about me.”

Izayaroa and Kaln exchanged a careful look. Pheneraxa was now chomping bites of spice bread; he wasn’t actually sure whether she was even listening.

Percy cleared her throat and continued. “Anyway. When my father passed on, my stepmother remarried, and…well, that’s how the royal family stands now. They have a very serviceable heir, who is required to inherit the throne by treaty. I’m…not suitable for it, anyway. But I’m a complication.”

“Forgive me if this is an indelicate question,” Kaln asked, “but what do you mean by ‘not suitable?’”

“I am…in the way,” Percy whispered, still not looking at them. “I don’t…I fail to contribute anything. I am not useful as a prospect for political union, I don’t contribute to the running of the country… They keep me out of the way, so I’m basically… Just living off the people’s taxes for no reason. Nobody would be sad to see me go; quite a few people would try to make that happen if they could get away with it. No one says it right to my face, but even the Court Mage has complained that I take up space and do nothing. I don’t think she knew I could hear, but I’m not sure how much she would’ve cared.”

“How is that your fault, though?” Pheneraxa asked, waving half a piece of spice bread vaguely about. “If they lock you out of governance because you’re a leftover from the other family, what is it they expect you to do?”

“That’s not the only—that is, I would if—I don’t think I’m explaining this well,” Percy said, her shoulders slumping. “I’m very sorry. I’m not accustomed to…explaining things. Not anything that matters to people, anyway. Mostly, none of what I talk about is interesting to…um, sorry, that probably just sounds like a complaint. My life is actually very good, except for being basically unwanted and a constant political thorn in the country’s shoe and I’m always afraid they’re going to get rid of me and wondering whether it’ll be exile to the countryside or being locked in one of the towers or poisoned by whichever of the Societies gets tired of me first. It’s very comfortable in the palace, though. Nobody raised royal has any right to complain about anything.”

Kaln and Izayaroa shared another long glance.

“It sounds quite complicated,” the Empress said delicately, “as such things often are. You would be far from the first inconvenient family member to be mishandled by a succedent dynasty.”

“My stepmothers have never mistreated me!” Percy burst out, finally raising her chin and meeting Izayaroa’s eyes with a frown. “They are my family and they treat me as such. That is not the problem. I am… The house of von Holtzmann, and the house of de Clairmont before it, place the highest value on duty to the people. Mother’s lectures are full of almost nothing else. We live on the labor of our people; the purpose of royalty is to serve the interests of the nation. To live otherwise would make us parasites.” She deflated just as abruptly, once again staring down at the rug. “Which is what makes me…”

“I do not mean to render any opinion about your family,” Izayaroa said, still completely calm. “Such business is yours and their alone. Our debt to you notwithstanding, Percy, before making a commitment here we need to understand, above all, what the response from Boisverd will be to these events. Already Vanimax’s actions in abducting you… Well, I will not soften it: that is an act of war. What we must understand is what your family’s and your nation’s response will be, and in particular, how that response would be modified if we accept your request to offer you refuge here.”

Percy raised her head again, blinking; once more she frowned, but this time in confusion. “What response? I mean… No one’s going to attack you. We’re not idiots. Even if…” Suddenly she stiffened up, glancing about. “Ah, when you said the Dread was gone, do you mean…”

“He hasn’t popped around the corner for a wheel of cheese,” Pheneraxa said lightly, in between licking her claws. “Kaln finished him off good and proper. Good riddance, so say we all.”

“I see,” Percy said nervously. “Well…even so. Even without him, you’re a bunch of dragons and a…a whatever that’s capable of slaying Atraximos the Dread. No one is going to try to assault you. By which I mean, no one is completely psychotic.”

“It seems inevitable that they will, at the very least, send scouts to investigate us,” said Kaln.

Izayaroa shook her head. “That is less certain than it would be in most similar situations elsewhere, husband. Our various wards have proved able to detect any intrusion—that is, until you—and Atraximos made a point to punish investigations as severely as he did attacks. If fear stays their hand from reprisal, it will likewise forfend any aggressive scouting. Whether it will at all in this case is the point under consideration.”

“My family will be sad,” Percy said quietly. Then she lifted her head once more, expression resolute. “But I think they’ll also be relieved, on some level. Most of the country will be. They probably already assume I’m dead; none of you have ever taken anybody before, just…well, you know. Empress…um monsieur godling…I believe this is the best compromise for all of us. Everyone benefits with little drawback. My absence will simplify things in Boisverd to the benefit of all. If I don’t go back, you don’t have to worry about me telling them anything I’ve seen here, and if I stay, you also don’t have to kill me.”

“It does seem that the simplest thing then would be to just kill you,” Pheneraxa mused.

“Shut up, Pheneraxa,” Kaln and Izayaroa barked in unison.

“As I have already stated most emphatically,” Izayaroa continued in a calmer tone to the suddenly alarmed princess, “you will not be harmed here, for any reason. I will not allow it.”

“Also,” Kaln added, “just for your information, Pheneraxa doesn’t actually want to kill you either. She’s a bit of a softie, in fact, she just has the most atrocious sense of humor.”

“Ah…I know what that’s like,” Percy said, turning to the blue dragon. “Is everyone always annoyed at you, too?”

Pheneraxa blinked in apparent astonishment. “I…well, I wouldn’t say always—”

“True,” Izayaroa agreed gravely. “To be fair, we don’t always listen to her at all. I believe you have given us a general shape of the situation, for which I thank you. If you would excuse us for just a moment, my husband and I must speak.”

“Oh…um, of course. Obviously,” Percy said, nervously turning her teacup in circles in her hands.

“Pheneraxa, please entertain our guest for a little bit,” said Kaln, rising along with Izayaroa.

“Do you like books?” Pheneraxa asked the princess as they stepped away.

“Well, on a case by case basis. What kind of books do you have?”

“What don’t we have!”

They moved far enough away that the ensuing discussion was a bare murmur, which put them a few steps down the entrance corridor.

“What do you think?” Kaln asked quietly.

“I am in favor of the arrangement, husband. The girl herself laid out the situation quite plainly: keeping her here is a compromise that best serves our interests. We can assure her safety as a measure of penance for the affront done her by our family, and prevent her carrying any information about our situation back to Boisverd. It must be said, Kaln, that Vanimax’s abominable stupidity has shortened our leeway considerably, what little of it was left to begin with. Our habits have been established for centuries; this act was unusual enough to draw attention from more than the offended nation.”

“It’s the death of Atraximos that’s the key detail,” he agreed, frowning back at the little improvised sitting area, where—as at least one small favor—Percy and Pheneraxa seemed to be getting along well, their heads together in animated conversation. “I don’t quite agree with her assessment; once that is known, there will be probing at the very minimum, and likely outright attacks. As much as I’d prefer not to cause any more destruction to these kingdoms, I suspect we won’t get any peace until we establish unequivocally that assailing us is futile.”

She nodded gravely.

“Still,” he continued, “I don’t know about…that. Did you notice how evasive she was? Every time it came back to why exactly she’s so ‘unsuitable’ to the royal family.”

“Evasive, yes, but even so I do not find that difficult to believe. On the contrary, it fits very neatly with my understanding of mortal regimes, which if I may flatter myself I believe to be considerable.”

“I think you’re entitled to a little flattery on that point at the very least,” he said with a smile.

She smiled back and gently touched his arm as she continued. “There are any number of reasons a member of the royal family would be considered unsuitable for succession, or even public duties. She could have an illness that reduces her lifespan, or ability to produce heirs. She might have been involved in a public scandal of some kind. It could simply be that she’s incompetent; there are plenty of people who just don’t have the right personality for rule, and some of them inevitably appear in royal families. Honestly, the fact that she is the last remnant of the previous dynasty is a sufficient explanation, to me; whatever further cause there may be is only adding context and nuance. And whatever such cause exists is probably humiliating to her to discuss. I see no sinister agenda in her disinclination to delve into the topic.”

Glancing once more over at the princess, Izayaroa frowned pensively.

“In fact… That girl’s bearing and manner of speech are not what I would expect from someone raised and trained to rule. Nor from a spoiled brat attempting to pass herself off as one of the above—those are surprisingly easy to spot, when you have known as many of them as I have. No, I am inclined to believe her when she says the royal family’s lives will be simplified by her absence. I do not expect gratitude, but it may help stay whatever anger they feel.”

Kaln inhaled deeply, then let out his breath in a heavy puff. “All right. I’m in agreement with you. Then…that just leaves us to settle our various business around here. Before we make the formal offer and try to settle her in, we need to get our own house in order. This place is even less suited to accommodate a non-godling mortal resident than it was me, and that’s not even approaching the subject of what kind of lifestyle she’s accustomed to.”

“I was quite serious in my promise to make every possible effort to ensure her comfort,” Izayaroa said with a dry little smile, “but it is also true that she’s the one who wanted to move into a dragons’ lair. Some meeting halfway is going to be necessary from all parties, I fear.”

“Right, those are just the practicalities. I am more concerned about the other members of the household.”

She grimaced. “I don’t think Emeralaphine will much care, so long as Perseverance is forewarned to stay out of her way. Pheneraxa seems to like her more than I’d have expected, and Vadaralshi…is trainable. But those are not the points of concern.”

“Right. That was… Izayaroa, do you have any idea why Tiavathyris was so agitated about this? I’ve never seen her like that. And, sure, I guess I haven’t known her long, but that seemed notably out of character.”

“To me, as well,” she agreed. “The truth is that I know more of her from historical accounts than personal conversations. We are a fairly typical dragon family, husband—which is to say, the opposite of close-knit. I believe the three of us have interacted with one another more since your arrival than during the preceding half-decade. I genuinely have no idea why this prospect offended Tiavathyris so.”

“Well, I’ll obviously have to deal with that before I make Percy any promises,” he said with a sigh. “I’m not going to consent to her moving in if I can’t guarantee her safety, and an elder dragon who objects to her presence is not a small matter. And then…”

“I will deal with Vanimax,” she stated, anger once more darkening her face.

“Of course,” Kaln agreed quickly. “That much was already decided.”

Looking at her expression… He realized that this was not going to be the end of that conversation. The other two drakes were obvious reflections of their mothers’ personal tutelage, with allowances for their individual personalities. How was it, then, that the offspring of the most poised and socially adroit of the elder dragons was the most reckless, aggressive fool? Kaln had been wondering about this for a while, in the back of his mind, but he had firmly set it aside as something to be explored carefully, over time; sticking himself into the middle of Izayaroa’s and Vanimax’s relationship seemed like it couldn’t possibly be anything but disastrous.

Except, now he had to. More events like this were simply not acceptable. But this, he decided, was not the moment.

Izayaroa looked narrowly at him, and he had the strong impression she had guessed the general direction of his thoughts. He decided to deal with this as quickly as possible—after she’d had time to deal with Vanimax and then calm down. It had better not wait much longer than that, but if you had to poke a bear, there was no point in doing it specifically when the bear was hungry.

“I need to ask you to put that off for a little while, though,” he said aloud. “I have to go make sure she’ll be okay with everyone else in the household, and in the meantime… Well, Pheneraxa’s fine as far as she goes, but you are both the best suited to look after a mortal, and the only one capable of ensuring her safety if one of the others decides to take exception to this before I can ensure that they won’t. Don’t mistake me, I like Pheneraxa very much, but she’s probably the least effective member of this family in dragon-to-dragon combat.”

“I think the risk of that is very slight, husband,” she said with a faint smile, “but given the stakes, an abundance of caution is indeed appropriate. Let us not have any further stains upon our integrity, particularly in the eyes of Princess Perseverance.”

“I’m glad we’re on the same page.” He squeezed her arm, and she leaned forward to momentarily rub her forehead against his. “This’ll have to take the time it takes, but I will try not to dawdle.”

“I shall do my utmost as well, husband. Success to us both.”

They parted, she striding back over to rejoin Pheneraxa and Percy, he passing the rest of the way down the corridor.

The central vault was empty—of dragons, at least. The ghosts were on duty, and in fact a squad of them was at that moment moving the fallen Timekeeper artifact back into place, having apparently just finished tipping it back upright.

“Fine work, thank you,” Kaln called to them. As one, the ghosts paused, turned to him, and saluted, then resumed their careful pushing and pulling.

He reached out with his senses for the other dragons. Emeralaphine had gone back to the library, no doubt to resume the project he’d just given her now that nothing else of interest was happening where she could see. Of Vanimax and Vadaralshi there was no sign. Kaln focused, straining to extend his senses…there. The two of them were out at the far end of the valley. Doing what he could not tell, given the faintness of their impression in his mind, but that was probably for the best. Maybe his sister could…no, Vadaralshi was not one to talk sense into anyone. Still, having a general grasp of her foibles, Kaln didn’t think she’d make it worse. She might even calm him down.

Tiavathyris was in her lair, alone. That was ideal. She was…seething, which was less so.

Kaln squared his shoulders and set off across the vault.

In her personal chambers, Tiavathyris was coiled up in her larger form, occupying most of the large padded surface they’d used for sparring. Of course, that would serve just as well as a sleeping pad for a creature her size.

She did not move upon his entry, save to open her eyes.

“And how is our…guest?”

“Resilient, considering the day she’s having. Not what I would have expected from a princess.”

The tip of her tail lifted once, then fell back to the ground.

“Having heard her out,” Kaln continued evenly, “and discussed the details with Izayaroa, I am at this time strongly inclined to offer the princess sanctuary here, unless some compelling reason we should not materializes.”

Tap. Tap. Her viridian eyes remained fixed on him, impassive. With the sense he had of her emotional state, he could actually feel her exerting some kind of inner control. She was wracked by an inner storm of emotions, but that was beginning to quiet even as Kaln brushed his consciousness against it. Not fading as emotions inevitably did, but… Being contained. Undoubtedly, someone with her history in particular knew countless disciplines of self-control and serenity.

“As I’ve said,” he continued, keeping his own voice as calm and benign as he felt would be believable, “your perspective is incredibly important to me. Both because I would be an absolute idiot to disregard the benefit of your wisdom, and more importantly, because I wish for your happiness. Whatever you find so objectionable—”

She jerked her head up so suddenly he took an instinctive step back, scowling down at him.

“I hate that. If you have somehow not managed to discern it by now, Ar-Kaln, mincing doublespeak is offensive to me under all circumstances, and there is little I hate more than being treated by someone who should be an intimate as if I were some strange diplomat to be fenced with and manipulated!”

“Well, I’m sorry,” he erupted, “but I can’t just turn it off! I am not trying to manipulate you, this is just how I talk! We aren’t all unstoppable dragons; I have succeeded as much as I have in life by taking care of people. I refuse to believe it’s a sin to want to make people happy, especially the people who are most important to me!”

Incongruously, a faint smile formed on her muzzle, accompanied by a muted surge of warmth from within her.

“Then…I gather that must have been something of an…exertion for you.”

“You could say that, yeah,” he said with a sigh. “It’s…hard. Well, at least…unaccustomed.”

She dipped her head once in acknowledgment. “This relationship, like this situation, will necessarily involve compromise. I am asking you, husband, to please try. Try to simply be open. With me, at least.”

“Simply be open,” he whispered, clenching and then relaxing his fingers, over and over. “Okay. That’s… Offhand I can’t think of anything that would come less naturally to me. But for you, I will certainly try.”

Once more, she nodded to him. Gazing down at him, expectantly.

Kaln half-turned to thrust out a hand toward the doorway and the central vault beyond, and yelled at the top of his lungs.

“Lady, what the hells was that?!”

Tivathyris bowed her head deeply to him, with a broad smile that he could tell she felt from her very heart.

“Thank you.”