Chapter 275: Friendly Negotiations

 

  The members of Team Hollow Shade sat across from each other in their training room below the coliseum. Their professors sat in a corner, quietly talking amongst themselves. Sylvie was the only one who stood, she was busy reenacting her victory over Damian from a few minutes ago.

  “Then I jumped at him and swung my ax down with all my strength!” Sylvie raised her arms in the air. “Buuut, the stupid ax you gave me, Freya, was unevenly balanced. I ended up missing his head and barely got his arm,” she puffed her cheeks in mild frustration.

  “Wait, you were trying to kill him?” Callum asked incredulously.

  “Uh, yeah,” Sylvie said as if it was the most obvious fact in the world.

  “But why?” Callum frowned. 

  “Isn’t that the whole point of a duel?” Sylvie cocked her head to the side. “It’s not like these are mock duels, right?”

  “Sure, but that doesn’t mean we should actively try to kill our opponents,” Callum said. “Those sorts of actions can have serious repercussions in the future. Damian is part of a powerful family, who probably all want to kill you right about now.”

  “If Sylvie hadn’t taken the fight seriously she could have gotten killed by Damian. Would you have preferred that outcome instead?” Stryg raised an eyebrow.

  Callum sighed, “Obviously not.”

  “All duels are dangerous. I have to agree with Stryg on this one,” Freya said reluctantly.

  Callum slumped his shoulders, “Yeah, I know. It doesn’t make any of this better, though. We’re all in enough danger as it is.”

  Freya nodded sympathetically, “At least none of us are fighting in the next match.”

  “It’s that Frost Rim giant and some Murkton orc fighting, right?” Stryg said.

  “It should start in about an hour,” Freya said. “Which leaves us plenty of time for lunch.”

  “About that,” Gale spoke up. “Your professors and I have been talking…”

  “About what?” Freya asked.

  “This,” Ismene held up a letter. The black rose sigil of House Thorn was stamped over the letter’s wax seal. “It seems Lady Thorn has invited you for lunch, Stryg.”

  “Me?” Stryg frowned.

  “Not just you, your Loh as well,” Ismene read the letter.

  Stryg narrowed his eyes, “What?”

  Loh glanced at Stryg uncomfortably, “...We don’t have to go if you don’t want to.”

  “Want to? Who would ever want to be in a room alone with Lady Thorn?!” Cornelius exclaimed.

  “It’s way too dangerous,” Gale nodded. “But that letter didn’t just arrive right before the next match out of some strange coincidence. This was deliberate. House Thorn’s is one of the few families who hasn’t sent you a letter yet, until now.”

  “So you think I should go?” Stryg asked.

  “Yes, but I’m coming along as protection,” Gale said.

  “So am I,” Lysaila said quietly from the corner of the room.

  Stryg nodded slowly, “...Fine, I’ll go. But I’m not going anywhere with that liar,” he glared at Loh.

  “...That’s fair,” Loh mumbled.

  “Then I’ll be going in her stead,” Ismene said. 

  “Why?” Stryg furrowed his brow.

  “Gale and Lysaila will be busy scoping the room for threats. You’d be talking to Ophelia alone. I won’t let you face her by yourself.” Ismene slammed her cane on the ground, “End of discussion.”

  Stryg held back his tongue and bowed his head in acquiescence.

~~~

  A pair of elite guards stood on each side of the entrance to House Thorn’s walled pavilion. Stryg quickly looked them up and down, noting the swords on their belts, the various daggers on their arms and legs, but most importantly, the silver mage amulets hanging from their necks.

  “House Thorn equips their men well at least,” Gale muttered.

  “Meh, I could end them in 3 seconds,” Lysaila shrugged.

  “Not a step further. State your purpose or leave,” one of the guards stated in a deep voice. He placed his hand on the hilt of his sword and stared steely-eyed at Lysaila.

  Ismene hobbled past the others and looked at the guards with an air of amusement, “I’m quite certain you are well aware of who and why we are here.”

  The guards glanced at each other with uncertainty. “We were expecting only two guests, not four.”

  “Not to worry, the two behind me will be keeping you both company while Stryg and I sit down for a chat with your mistress,” Ismene said nonchalantly.

  The guards reluctantly let go of their swords and stepped aside.

  “Come along, Stryg,” Ismene said without glancing at him.

  Stryg nodded and followed behind her, though he made sure to hiss at the guards as he walked by them. The drow guards looked bewildered but said nothing.

  Ophelia Thorn sat around a carved stone table, a dozen different plates of rare delicacies spread about. She looked up at their entrance and smiled smoothly. “Ah, I’m glad you could make it.” Ophelia glanced at the food lamentingly, “I know it’s not much, but it’ll have to do for such short notice.”

  This is nothing? Stryg wondered to himself. He could feel his mouth begin to water from the various smells wafting into his nose.

  Ismene sat across from Ophelia and smiled coldly, “Thank you for the meal, but I’d prefer to just talk.”

  Ophelia chuckled, “Do you think it poisoned? Deadly to the touch?” She picked up a piece of sweet bread dipped in honey and popped it into her mouth. She savored the taste and moaned softly. She licked her lips and sighed with satisfaction, “Mmm, delicious.”

  “I wouldn’t think that the leader of the prestigious Great House of Thorn would ever stoop to something as low as poison.” Ismene stared at Ophelia pointedly, “But, I suppose we can all be wrong, hm?”

  “Oh?” Ophelia raised an eyebrow.

  “Tell me, how many of your people did you have to silence to keep the secrets of the roaming viperidae quiet?” Ismene asked.

  Ophelia smiled wide, “I must admit that when I sent out my invitation I did not expect the Tempest Archmage to come, but I am quite enjoying your company.”

  “Funny, my enemies usually say quite the opposite,” Ismene said.

  “Is that so?” Ophelia mused. “Fortunately, there are no enemies here. You will find no trace of poison in the food. Our resident Ebon Aspirant should be able to test for poison, he is a Red after all.”

  Ismene glanced at Stryg questioningly.

  He nodded uncomfortably. Poison assessing was one of the few spells he had managed to learn from Elzri’s potion lessons, though he rarely ever used it.

  Ophelia looked at Stryg, “I had heard you were a man of few words, but last time we met you at least spoke a few words. Do you plan to stay silent for the rest of the meal?”

  “...Alone,” Stryg muttered. “That’s what you said to me, I am so very alone. I thought you were going to kill me that night. But now you invite me to lunch? Why?”

  Ophelia leaned her arms over the table and smirked, “You are alone, Stryg. Far more than I ever realized the night we met. It’s precisely why I invited you here today.”

  “I’m not alone,” Stryg sat down next to Ismene.

  “Is that so?” Ophelia asked. “Where may I ask is your master, Loh? Is she not the one who trained you ever since you arrived in Hollow Shade?”

  “She couldn’t make it,” Ismene said.

  “Really? I thought it was because Stryg despised her,” Ophelia said casually.

  Stryg and Ismene stiffened at her words.

  Ismene narrowed her eyes, “Our tavern’s servants I presume?”

  “You’d be surprised how a few gold coins can loosen a commoner’s lips,” Ophelia shrugged. “It was quite easy to find out what the servants in your temporary residence had heard, and it seems they’ve heard quite a lot, don’t you think?”

  “Not really,” Ismene said curtly.

  “You think so? Hm. I’d think that Stryg’s falling out with the Great House of Noir, one of the Seven Ruling Families of Hollow Shade, would be quite a big deal. But perhaps we just think differently.”

  “Is that why you invited Stryg here? To threaten him?” Ismene asked in a quiet, but serious voice.

  Ophelia shook her head with a smile, “Not at all. I already told you, there are no enemies here. But there are many out there. Powerful groups who do not wish for the return of the Ebon Lords. Those people would exploit Stryg or kill him if given the chance.”

  Ophelia ran her finger across the edge of her wine glass, “It was quite easy to infiltrate the tavern you're all holed up in. How long until someone else does the same? Let’s face it, Lady Ismene, your friends and you are fishes out of water. This isn’t your city, you have no castle here, no loyal retinue of guards, you have no one but yourselves.”

  “Are you finished?” Ismene asked coldly.

  Ophelia chuckled, “Almost. I just have one more question. How do you plan to protect Stryg?”

  “I’m more than capable of keeping the child safe,” Ismene said.

  “I believe you,” Ophelia nodded. “The legendary Tempest Arch-mage, Scourge of the Ebon Sea and all the pirates who had the misfortune of crossing your path. I don’t think there’s any archmage who’d try to fight you one-on-one. But what about two archmages? What about three? Or do you think no arch-mage will try and get their hands on Stryg, hm?”

  “What do you want?” Stryg interrupted. “I’m tired of all this back and forth. What exactly do you want? Why did you invite me here?”

  “You’re as impatient as my spies said,” Ophelia raised her glass in acknowledgement, “But I don’t find that a bad thing. I invited you here, Stryg, to offer you a proposal.”

  “What kind of proposal?” he asked.

  “The proposing kind.” Ophelia smiled, “Marry me.”

  Stryg blinked, his jaw went slack, “Huh…?”

  Ismene sighed. “I thought as much,” she muttered.

  “Wait, you thought this was gonna happen?” Stryg frowned. He glanced at Ophelia, “Why do you want to marry me? Aren’t you married already?”

  “I was under the impression your people embraced non-monogamous relationships whole-heartedly,” Ophelia said. “Or is the rumor of your Sylvan origins false?”

  “W-well, no,” Stryg scratched his cheek. “I am Sylvan, but I’m married.” 

  “To a commoner, yes? I admit, it is strange to see an Aspirant married to a commoner, but it doesn’t bother me.”

  “Yes, but…”

  “Do you not find me attractive?” Ophelia smirked.

  Stryg suddenly found his eyes drifting down towards her ample chest and the way her thin silk dress left little to the imagination.

  “Since when does attraction have any weight in the marriage decision of a Lord or Lady of a Great House?” Ismene asked.

  “It doesn’t,” Ophelia said. “But I’d wager it does to Stryg. He is a young man barely out of his teens,  whose needs clearly haven’t been met for some time now, judging by the way he is staring at my breasts.”

  Stryg blinked and looked up, “Huh? What?”

  Ismene shook her head in disappointment.

  “In fact,” Ophelia smiled. “I’d wager, like every man I’ve met, you don’t like to share, do you, Stryg? You seemed uncomfortable when I mentioned my husband.”

  “I’m just uncomfortable being at this table,” he said.

  “You know what? I’ll get rid of my current husband, no questions asked. You don’t have to share me with anyone,” Ophelia winked. “And of course, I don’t mind how many secondary wives you decide to take on.”

  Stryg swallowed, his eyes slowly drifting back towards her chest, “Um… don’t you have kids?”

  “Two, yes. Does that bother you? I am only 42 years old. Compared to a goblin, my body is still in its early twenties. I can easily have your children for many years to come.”

  Stryg frowned. Children? He had never given any thought to having children of his own.

  “Stryg is a hybrid, he can’t have children, which is one of the most essential parts of any marriage alliance,” Ismene noted.

  “That little tale has never been quite proven, has it?” Ophelia shrugged. “Someday Stryg will be an Ebon Lord with powers that none of us have. I’m quite certain that with his future abilities and my arcane knowledge we could find a way to continue his line.”

  “You mean your line, the bloodline of House Thorn,” Ismene tapped her cane.

  Ophelia sipped her wine, “Lady Ismene, I’m not going to disrespect you by lying to you about the painfully obvious. Having an Ebon Lord back in my family would reinvigorate House Thorn to its former glory. We could take our rightful place back in Hollow Shade.”

  “As the ruler of Hollow Shade,” Ismene crossed her arms.

  “No,” Ophelia shook her head. “That role will fall to Ebon Lord Stryg of the Great House of Thorn.”

  “Wha?” Stryg’s eyes widened in shock.

  “You, Stryg, will sit on Hollow Shade’s throne. And I will stand by your side as your faithful queen,” Ophelia smiled proudly.

  “You’d give the boy the throne?” Ismene said cautiously.

  “Of course, the people of the realm will only accept a true Ebon Lord on Hollow Shade’s throne,” Ophelia said. “I think you’ve misunderstood me, Lady Ismene. I’m not interested in ruling Hollow Shade. I’ve only ever cared about returning my House to its former glory. Stryg is the key to that dream.” She glanced at Stryg with a warm smile, “I’ve been waiting for someone like you for a very long time.”

  “Um,” Stryg cleared his throat, “That sounds good and all for you, but why would I marry you?”

  “Besides the fact that I am your greatest hope of protection within this city and that you clearly want to sleep with me?” Ophelia smirked.

  “Yes, besides that,” he nodded.

  “Mm, very well,” Ophelia nodded. “Undergrowth and Hollow Shade have been close to war many times in the last century. My city’s armies have grown significantly larger than Hollow Shade’s. However, your city is currently at war with the Valley Tribes, but despite their best efforts, they are unable to quell Lord Marek and his savages.”

  Ophelia leaned forward, “But what if my armies helped? How quickly could we end this Lord Marek? The man who killed many of your classmates last year and almost killed you. If we married, one of the first things I would do is help you find Marek and end his miserable life.”

  Stryg looked down at his hands, they shook with a slight tremble. How many times had he dreamed of killing that bastard and all his bloody tribe? He swore on Clypeus’ grave that he would end the Cairn and the lives of every single one of them. He thought it would take years before he was strong enough to exact his revenge. Now, the answers to his problems sat right in front of him in the form of a beautiful Lady.

  Stryg glanced at Ismene. “What do you think?” he whispered.

  “...I think that Lady Thorn’s offer could easily be turned into a threat,” Ismene said grimly. “As she said, her armies are greater than ours. How easy would it be for her to attack Hollow Shade while we’re busy fighting the Valley Tribes?”

  Ophelia said nothing and simply sipped her drink with a small smile.

  Ismene sighed, “Overall, her offer isn’t bad. Ruling Hollow Shade is a far-fetched idea for anyone, even an Aspirant. But with Lady Thorn, it might actually be possible or perhaps it’ll all end in catastrophic failure. You need to know Stryg, that no matter how all this plays out, blood will be spilled over your mere existence. It’d be best if you are on the winning side. Though if that side is the Thorn’s, I do not know.”

  “I never really thought of ruling Hollow Shade…” Stryg muttered. “But I’m not too keen on dying either…”

  “It’s your life, Stryg. I will not make this decision for you,” Ismene said quietly. “Either way you will have to live with the consequences.”

  “So what do you say?” Ophelia stretched out her hand. “Will you marry me?”

  Stryg breathed shakily, “...I…”

  “He will have to think on the matter!” a familiar voice called out.

  Stryg shot up from his chair in surprise. A petite vampiress strode past the guards and marched towards their table.

  Ophelia narrowed her eyes, “And who might you be?”

  “Me!?” the vampiress scoffed with indignation. “I am the right hand of the Ebon Aspirant, his closest confidante, and his most trusted advisor! You may address me as Lady Maeve of the Great House of Mora!”