Deep breaths broke through the barrier of Leon’s lips as his muscles relaxed, the catharsis of his exertions turning his body to jelly. Beside him on the right lay Elise, trapped against his body by his arm, which held her tightly while his hand wandered over her expanse of formerly pristine skin, now reddened in many places by the vigor of their coupling. On his left lay Maia, who had given herself so completely to pleasure that once it was over, she closed her eyes and departed from the land of the conscious, and Leon doubted she’d return to them in less than a couple hours. Still, he held her close, too.
While the three were alone in the bed, Valeria and Cassandra had long since gone for a bath after taking their own pleasures from Leon, leaving Leon and Elise functionally the two remaining even semi-awake people in the shared bedchamber—and Leon was himself dozing. The risk of losing so much had been extreme, and while he never would’ve abided by the terms if he’d lost, he was indescribably joyous that he’d won, removing the need to become a pariah in the eyes of his fellow Storm Lords.
For all he found himself dozing, however, sleep remained elusive, and when he felt Elise shifting against him, he cracked open his golden eyes to behold a curious sight: Elise had turned so that her back rested against his side while his arm was draped over her front, nestled quite nicely in the deep valley of her chest while his hand had come to a rest on her abdomen. The temptation to inch his fingers downward was high, but he sensed Elise retrieve something from her soul realm—a vial of liquid, thick as syrup and black as midnight—which had so captivated her that she didn’t react to him turning to embrace her from behind, spooning up against her and wrapping his other arm around her waist.
“What is that?” he asked, his lips turning downward as his magic senses warped slightly over the vial, the liquid’s magic doing its best to reject his attempts to study it.
Elise’s breath hitched slightly when he finally spoke, but after a moment, she hesitantly answered. “A failsafe…” Fear and trepidation dripped from her voice, and Leon tightened his embrace with one arm while reaching over with the other, taking the vial from her fingers. She didn’t fight him, relinquishing it without complaint.
Even then, Leon didn’t need a close examination to know what was in the vial, at least in a broad sense. “Poison…” he whispered. He lifted his head slightly, intruding into her field of vision from behind just enough to make his unspoken question clear.
“I… I wasn’t going to be his,” Elise said, shrinking slightly into his arms. “Never.”
Using his power, Leon gently transferred the vial to one of their bedside tables. The power in the vial was intense, and while he would’ve been tempted to more explosively dispose of it, he didn’t want to risk doing so with something as obviously powerful as was in that vial.
“Where did you get it?” he asked.
“I am your Queen,” she said simply.
“Who gave it to you?” he asked more sharply.
“Why does it matter?” she asked. “It was to protect me. Because I ordered them to do it.”
Leon’s breath grew more intense, but with his face practically buried in his first wife’s hair, filling his nostrils with her warm, familiar, comforting scent, his brief anger bled away, and he wrapped his left arm back around her waist.
“It wasn’t necessary,” he said.
“Having a contingency is always necessary,” she replied, her voice trembling slightly.
“I would’ve—” he began before cutting himself off. A moment passed as he thought about what would’ve happened if he’d lost that duel. His wives had been there, and if he’d lost, how would he have stopped Morui from taking them? He supposed they would’ve resisted on their own, but his ability to join them in that endeavor would’ve been limited by the injuries he would’ve sustained—and if he’d lost that duel, they would’ve had to be extensive.
‘Then again, maybe Britta would’ve stepped in to keep order and give some grace time. Or maybe she wouldn’t have, and forced them to go with that bastard right then and there…’
“It’s not about whether or not you’ll let something happen, my love,” Elise said as she turned back around and rested her forehead against his chest. Her voice was slightly muffled then, but Leon still had no trouble hearing her continue.
“I’ll never have another man,” she said. “The idea makes me sick. You’re mine, now and forever, as I am yours. You complete me. But… these past few days… they’ve reminded me that I can’t be there for you. When you go off to war, you can take Maia, or Val, or Cassie, and not worry about them. I… would be a liability… These past few days have shown me how little I contribute to the family, how weak I am in the face of a serious threat… I can’t stand the idea of being parted from you, and yet there’s nothing I can do about it!”
Leon felt wetness spreading across his chest—she was crying, and he instinctively moved in to stop it. “Hey,” he whispered, pushing her back slightly while leaving their legs entwined so that he could look into her eyes. They’d already grown red and were starting to get puffy, but she was still a vision of beauty that nearly stole his breath. She sniffled, and the sound kicked him back into action.
“I will never leave you,” he promised. “Even when we are physically parted, you are my wife. I love you, and even if there exists a vast gulf of space between us, you will always hold a piece of my heart.”
“Only a piece?” she asked, smiling despite the tears still falling from her eyes.
“Such are the consequences of having a large family,” Leon replied with a smile of his own. ‘It doesn’t diminish the love I feel for you, though. And…” His eyes wandered to the vial of dark poison on the bedside table. “I don’t want you to think that you have to take such measures. I will always come for you, no matter what. I will always protect you, no matter what. I am your husband. That is my job. It doesn’t bother me that we do not fight alongside one another. We all have our own callings, and I am happy to support you in yours, no matter what they are. Besides, as my Queen, you still do more than nearly anyone else to aid me and this Kingdom. Think about how many people your healing potion program has helped. Think about how well you hold my court together when I’m gone. I trust no one more to have my back in a party of vipers than you. Don’t discount your contributions even though you’re not joining me on the battlefield.”
Elise lay there listening to him, her eyes growing more and more tear-filled as he pressed on, and when he finished, he pressed his forehead against hers and nuzzled his nose against hers. After a moment, he leaned in for a slightly salty kiss, which she wholeheartedly returned.
When they parted, Leon whispered, “I had similar insecurities when we first got together, you know.”
“Oh?” she said, her expression turning happier even though a few final tears were still squeezing past her eyelashes. “That’s surprising. Why have you never told me?”
“It was such a small thing in retrospect,” he admitted. “But it didn’t feel like a small thing at the time. I didn’t want you to think less of me, some Valeman from the barbarous vales north of the Frozen Mountains, while you were a ravishingly beautiful woman from an unbelievably wealthy family that was, for some reason, interested in me! Even then, I was but a humble knight for several years, when you could’ve had Lords! How could I not be insecure?”
“My gorgeous man from a prestigious family, loaded with money, cute as a puppy, innocent in only the best ways, and strong for his age?” She laughed while nudging her thighs further between his legs, where he felt the stirrings of lust returning to not-quite-spent flesh. “I was smitten from the moment I met you! And in the year after, I fell madly in love with you and have never looked back!”
Her admission, already known to him, was still extremely gratifying to hear. He held her tightly and nearly pushed himself on top of her to act on that building lust, but his eyes caught the poison-filled vial again, and he paused.
“Promise me something…” he whispered.
“Anything,” she huskily breathed, the lust he felt clearly reciprocated.
“Never again prepare that kind of a ‘contingency’,” he said, and she froze in his embrace. He repeated, “I will always be here for you.”
Gold eyes met emerald, and just as seriously, she said, “I will be joining you in training. More than you’ve previously insisted, anyway.”
“You want to become a warrior?” he asked, surprised.
“What I want doesn’t matter,” she replied. “I… I will not be taken from you. Let this be my contingency. Even if it’s not enough to stand with you on the battlefield.”
A long pause passed between them, and Leon saw nothing but determination in her eyes. He was relieved; he’d always been fine with her relative lack of skill in the battlefield arts, especially since she’d always at least taken her physical training seriously. But if she wanted to learn the ways of blood and steel as Valeria and Cassandra had, then…
“Very well,” he said with a rapidly growing smile. He might’ve said more, but Maia, still asleep, suddenly clung to him from behind, pressing her body against his back and snuggling in as close as she could.
Together, he and Elise followed their river nymph lover and embraced before joining her in the land of dreams, at least until Cassandra and Valeria returned.
---
Quiet filled the meeting chamber, packed with all of Leon’s friends, family, and closest advisors. His eyes scanned over each one of them, noting their seriousness with a certain level of gratification—his victory over a thirteenth-tier Basileus was glorious, but there would undoubtedly be strategic consequences.
His more militant people and his civil or diplomatically-minded people, while rarely at outright loggerheads, still seldom agreed on actions that he could or should be taking in any given situation. In this case, they were almost unanimous in the strategic outlook; he’d gained several powerful enemies, at least, and that only accounted for Triyr, Morui, and their associated power structures, let alone the myriad other Lords who’d watched the duel and might have opinions of their own.
Notably, Archelaus was absent from this meeting since Leon wanted to consult with his people more candidly, though he would certainly be getting his fellow Storm Lords’ opinions later—at least, the opinions of those he’d already met and whose opinions he was starting to appreciate.
“Where are we on the status of Morui and Triyr?” Leon asked. The duel hadn’t even been a full day ago, but he was guessing some effects it might’ve caused could already be discerned.
“Triyr has practically vanished from Voidshore,” the Jaguar growled. “We don’t know where he’s gone, and neither does Archelaus, as far as he’s willing to tell us. As for Morui, he’s holed up in that palace he’s occupied for these past few days and made a show of hosting large parties. I can’t say why or how effective he’s been, but his rival, Refferti, has been insulting him loudly and publicly, and he hasn’t left that palace to respond.”
Leon cocked an eyebrow. Power was often the be-all and end-all in the Nexus, as the Thunderbird and Xaphan were fond of reminding him, but personal connections and prestige still played their part. Insults were direct challenges to authority, and Morui not responding to Refferti spoke volumes about his mental state.
“Is he afraid to leave?” he wondered aloud.
“He should be!” Marcus exclaimed. “You bent Triyr into unnatural shapes for all the universe to see! How could he not be nervous after that? That kind of public loss isn’t so easily recovered from!”
“You’re acting like he’s scared I’ll hunt him down in the streets,” Leon said.
“You might,” Zhang pointed out. “On Jiaxing, bloody feuds were outlawed by the Emperor, but they still happened when parties were sufficiently aggrieved. He may judge losing face to Refferti to be a suitable cost for not risking a loss of face to you.”
“At least they’re the same tier,” Daryun added. “It’s easier to accept that loss than accepting a loss from someone who should be inferior by conventional wisdom.”
“Are you saying my husband’s inferior to that walking casket-filler?” Cassandra asked challengingly, her smile the only thing making her lack of seriousness apparent.
“No,” Daryun easily responded. “But our King is in a position where he should be, but after that duel, isn’t, and that’s the crux of the issue.”
“Maybe Morui’s scared, maybe he isn’t,” Leon said, drawing attention back to him. “He probably should be, and we should keep an eye out for any preemptive moves he might make.” He eyed the Jaguar and Clear specifically since it would be the military and his diplomatic corps that would handle the brunt of that problem. “But he’s not our only concern. A thousand Nexus Lords watched that duel. What was everyone’s impression?”
Alcander began first with a booming laugh. “It was a glorious demonstration of your power! We have won a great deal of glory through your actions, Your Majesty, and that glory begets respect!”
Similar sentiments were shared by others, particularly by Alix and the Jaguar. No one disagreed, but there were other perspectives and considerations, too.
“We have fielded many requests for meetings,” Clear said. “By your leave, Your Majesty, I’d like to ask for Dame Anna’s aid in handling these requests.”
Leon glanced at his Paladin in questioning surprise. “I won’t force new duties on you,” he said before glancing back at Clear. “Why her?”
“A Paladin, as I understand it, is a position to act in your stead where you cannot be,” Clear said. “In terms of prestige and authority, are there any higher ranks, save maybe your High Ministers?” Clear and the Jaguar shared a look as the only of Leon’s High Ministers accompanying him to the Games.
The specific title of ‘High Minister’ didn’t officially exist, but the heads of Leon’s governing departments were often referred to by that title. In addition to Clear and the Jaguar, Iron-Striker, Ipatameni, and Gaius were other ‘High Ministers’ as his Chancellor, Steward, and First Praetor, respectively. Sometimes, Lucianus, as his Grand Secretary, or other officials in his palace, were included, but those five were the permanent members of that unofficial designation.
One matter that Leon realized hadn’t been concretely established was just how much authority a Paladin was supposed to have relative to his regular governing structure, and Leon supposed that Clear asking for Anna to be put into a clear subordinate role to him was his way of asking for the matter to be clarified.
“Having a Paladin receive such requests might be palatable to these Lords who might otherwise be insulted if their invitations were handled by mages of significantly lower tiers than theirs,” Clear explained further. “A personal representative of yours rather than a post-Apotheosis mage, who might have other duties to see to.”
Leon smiled thinly. “I see your point. Anna, do you have any objections to being placed in charge of this?”
“I don’t,” she responded with a cheeky grin sent Clear’s way. “I’m always willing to help out a friend.”
Leon didn’t doubt her words; she and Clear were close, even if the ambiguity of their relative status needed to be made apparent. He’d make it clear later, though; this wasn’t the time.
“Good,” Leon said. “Moving on, then. Do we truly know nothing about what Triyr’s doing?”
“He was taken to a healer’s station by Anassa Britta,” the Jaguar said. “Aside from that, as far as we know, he’s still there. No public sighting has been made of him, at least as far as we’re aware.”
“That… concerns me,” Leon said. “He used a spell during our duel. Did any of you feel it?” He glanced around the room at his Tribal followers, those who bore the Inherited Bloodlines of their Ancestors.
“The barrier protecting the audience was powerful and thorough,” Singer-in-Caves said. “We didn’t feel anything. Did he invoke power we might’ve recognized?”
“No,” Leon answered. “At least, none of you, as you weren’t there to experience it the only other time I’ve seen it… The Wailing Dirge, the creature we found in the Aesii beneath Artorion, used a strange power that resonated poorly with those with awakened Inherited Bloodlines. What Triyr used against me was disturbingly akin to what that monster used.”
“Similar enough to suggest a connection?” the Jaguar asked.
“I don’t know…” Leon honestly admitted. “The Dirge’s power seemed innate, or possibly granted by the rune on its head. The spell Triyr used—at least the part of it I was able to see—didn’t seem to have any resemblance to that rune. But ancient and modern runes often have these kinds of problems. But regardless of the origin, Triyr still hit me with a spell that seemed to target my inherited power. I’ll be consulting with Nestor, among others, once we return to Artorion about this. In the meantime, I want all of you to be on guard for similar attacks.”
A wave of acknowledgments came, serious as could be. Normal bearers of Inherited Bloodlines venerated their Ancestors, but among the Ten Tribes, their Ancestors that founded their lines were practically deified.
“Good. Had I not had the experience of dealing with the Wailing Dirge before, Triyr might’ve had me then and there. Treat this as a catastrophic threat. Now, is there any other business?”
“We received a formal invitation from Anax Jericho,” Elise said as she produced the ornate and perfumed letter. “He’s holding another gala for all Storm Lords tomorrow night.”
“All the Storm Lords?”
“Those are his words. Some of them might skip; who can say?” Elise flashed him a radiant smile, and he supposed it was easy to imagine Morui and Triyr passing on that invitation, at least.
But easy though it was to imagine, it wasn’t guaranteed.
“I’ll accept,” Leon said. “But… we’ll have to make security arrangements first…”
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