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Elinor looked into the clear blue sky as the Grand Duke vanished in a light burst of wind; in the distance, she saw the beginnings of a storm.  Naturally, the Tempest would provide for their House to have the greatest advantage.  In addition, if it turned out how she expected, the rainfall would make for an excellent demonstration of the power their royalty held.

Her disapproving father was by her side, their Magic Knight escort surrounding them, and older students of the House practicing with vigor in the background.  King Virelli would send for her after the college rector informed him of her proposal.

Hopefully, she’d judged Queen Alivau’s best course of action correctly, and everything came together as Tiffany, Edmon, and she had plotted.  There had been some hiccups along the way, but they had given themselves wiggle room and countermeasures.

Instructing one of her guards to fetch their stagecoach, she took the path around the college.  Now that things were in motion, they had to make themselves publicly available since the ceremony would begin in four hours.  At the inn, Percy had informed them of a particular dignitary suite in the colossal Royal Coliseum.  It was time to dangle the bait.

Her gaze drifted to her father as he opened a private channel between them.  “He took you out of our range to communicate.  It was a very hostile action that could have ended very badly.  How much did he really know?”

A rumble shook in her throat as Elinor scanned the vibrant greenery of the college before stepping onto the direct road that led to their destination on the western side of the Noble District.

Logan knows I’m not the Raven Empress.  Luckily, he does seem to have the king’s best interests at heart… or he is willing to use this as an opportunity to sow disorder in the political and royal order.  We will have more to go on in the next hour or so.

She flipped to another private channel with her witch, letting her father stew.  Will you be ready for the presentation, Tiffany?

“Naturally!”  she sang.  “In fact, I will be able to do quite a few fun rituals in advance to put all eyes on you.  The Alchemy instructors are quite generous and interested in the knowledge I am offering.”

Fingers tightening around her wrist, Elinor’s cheer sobered, sensing Black and Ash busy on their collection tasks, one for Death Energy and the other for information.

All our work and preparations come to a point here.  How much will Logan tell the king?  He has a rough understanding of my powers, which shows how closely he’s watched us, yet he does not know about my phylactery.  And I’m positive if he wanted to, he could destroy us… so now we must gamble on if our objectives and his, whatever they are, can be aligned.

The Magic Knight met them on a cross street, towing their horses, and she entered the stagecoach.  Now alone inside as they made their way to her soon-to-be stage, Elinor slipped into her inner world to sit on her comfortable armchair, the gothic music reverberating in the background.

Her vision fixated on her Achievement Feats; she could practically taste Level 20 around the corner.  5,000 was the number of living citizens she needed in order to reach [Rising Empire: 2nd Petal], which would dramatically increase her Death Pool and enhance her Minion Pool.  Sadly, she only had 2,244 citizens, showing that, yes, her influence in the valley clanless was increasing, but it was far from where she needed it to be.

The Achievement Feat had given her an extra Monarch Title for her Royal Court, among many other things, such as increased Death and Minion Pools.  She used her last remaining slot for Castria, yet for her plan to work optimally, she needed one more.  The question was, would the event they’d put together give her the needed experience for it?

A shiver ran down her spine while scanning her empire’s status sheet.  It was uncomfortable being so far away from those she called her people—and with a war on the horizon—but if this worked, she could gain two to four more levels before leaving this Legend Quest if she played her cards right; she was sure of it.

This has to work…  I just need to be patient.  [Monarch of Death III] can be advanced a Grade from this plan, for sure, but will that give me a slot?  We’ll see.

Her journey to the giant front entrance was done within her inner world, letting her father inform her when they’d arrive.  One of her bottlenecks was her Death Pool and the daily cost to sustain her empire.  Yes, she was gaining access to powerful minions, but there was a price to pay to upkeep them.

If that wasn’t enough, to reach [Minion Pool III], she had to max her Tier and Limit.  She’d done the first, bringing it up to S-tier, but to reach its maximum capacity, she had to sustain 2,500 undead, which was ludicrous unless she chose to go with weak, Poor-Grade, Unintelligent Undead.  And where were the corpses to accomplish that?

Even if she went that route, it would still cost her just under 750 Death Orbs, and that was pricey at the moment since she didn’t have the lush jungle lifeblood to support her in this Legend Quest.  There were imbalances she had to correct, and, at the same time, she had to win the ri’bot contest in eight days to solidify a real empire.  Level 20 had to give her something phenomenal, or else they’d have to pivot hard.

Her eyes settled on [Prose of the Potentate II] and its two filled slots, she’d put Ina’ko into Quin’s previous position so she could reason with the Yaltha’ma in the cave; now, that slot was a necessity so her maids could control her new spider drones through the grapevine.  A little annoyed that she was lacking the resources to act more efficiently, she reminded herself that all of this work was for the purpose of expanding her abilities.  She had to be patient, and judging by the Thélméthras’ crude responses in the Nexus, the drones may not provide much information, anyway.

Brushing away the status menu as she sighed and returned to the outside world, her father opened the door for her to exit.  She stepped out to whispers from the crowds of commoners who were given the freedom to explore the Noble District once a year on this day, flooding the area with new coins and intrigue.  

Elinor gave a few smiles to those she passed as the coliseum knights made a path for her to enter the structure uninhibited.  Its extravagant architecture and gleam brought her mind back to the shadow world she’d seen.  It stood to reason that something like that might have a connection to Roman’s overarching quest to save this planet.

It was hard not to think about it, but she managed to sweep it away to engage with the present when she was guided to a spacious and lavish area that overlooked the center stage.  Proceeding to the covered terrace, she found the same water-blocking silk that could be pulled down to provide shelter from a storm, not that any occupants would need it with Tempest in attendance.

Equivalent to three stories above ground level, it provided a spectacular view and was extended past the audience seating to remain private.  Standing at the edge of the railing, she saw more than one commoner in the stands pointing her out.  Word was spreading about her presence in the city, but what she really needed was for the news to reach certain circles: specifically, the Royal and Great House circles.

Her father glanced to the doorway, where the Magic Knights were on guard outside.  The troops would make sure to keep her privacy, not that the average commoner had access to this noble section of the coliseum; of course, the nobility could be buzzing flies at her door, as well.

High above the stadium hovered three nobles from lesser houses, engaged in this world’s form of commentary as they used their wind-based powers to project their voices.  It made for quite the spectacle, with the two other nobles feeding the announcer information.

“We’re five minutes from the three-hour mark, observers.  Be sure to find your proper seat in time,” the older woman instructed.  “Also, give a warm welcome to the Raven Empress, who has graced us with her presence this Selection Ceremony.”

Elinor laughed inside as the whole stadium dabbed in almost a synchronized wave, every eye connecting with her.  There were no TVs or projections in this world, which meant coming to a giant public event like this was a huge deal for these citizens, where they could mingle amongst the nobility.

Worried?  Elinor asked her dad, holding up a hand for the crowd to cheer.  I would say there are at least 50,000 attendants that will be here.  This kingdom revolves around their college, after all, so it would be a giant achievement that few in their population can attain… but that could change.

Her father’s fingers curled into a fist.  “That is what I’m concerned about.  It only takes a few missteps at this point for everything to turn against us, and I cannot protect you against this kingdom’s heavy hitters.  It’s fortunate they don’t have the means to identify our level of strength, but I suppose my entire ability pool is centered around keeping you safe and knowing what is a danger to you.  I think—”  he cut off as Black suddenly interrupted..

The horseman had been busy, slipping in amongst the commoners to reach specific targets in the underworld that had gathered in the stadium.  “Empress, I just got word that Countess Evelyn Autumn has appeared from the teleportation gates.  It is big news since she has often used underground connections to obtain illegal contraband.”

Elinor felt a rare tingle run over her arms, and she gulped, forcing herself to maintain a smile.  So, the Hag of the Everborn Marchlands has come to the capital.  That can’t be a coincidence, she mumbled, vision wandering between the various other VIP boxes placed around the coliseum.

A low rumble came from her father.  “We may have done things differently if we knew about her before today.  She could upset everything we’ve planned.  Roman could have plotted this, or he gave us that information to try and counter something he’d already set in motion.”

Pondering the angle the hag might take, Elinor retreated to the suite interior and away from the onlookers; this area had quite the fancy accommodations, which included a closed sitting room and bathroom for guests to relieve themselves in privacy.

It’s possible Roman tried to set up this meeting for her, she concluded in her communication with her monarchs, but I doubt it.  I can bet the man knows far more about this world than we do, meaning he was aware that Logan would be listening to our conversation.  After all, this is Roman’s place of expertise.  However, I highly doubt he wanted to use this as the staging ground for a conflict between us because that could take me off the table for him to use.

Tiffany joined the conversation, nearing the coliseum with her wealth of ritual items she’d prepared.  “Indeed, Empress, that snake is coiling and readying his fangs in a different circle.  I also doubt this hag will make a move in front of the high nobility if Edmon is right about the good Grand Duke.  She is here to observe.  Patience and studious mind are a witch’s greatest virtues.”

“Not words I would use to describe your practice,” Edmon cooly responded, making his former wife giggle.

“Oh, Darling, the hag is a very particular type of specialized witch that even chills my bones.  You can feel it in the air when they’re near, and when it’s time to pay the piper.  As all good things go, the good must go, and the hag comes to receive what she is owed…”

Elinor turned around at the divide between the sitting and viewing area to stare at the hundreds of people still within sight in the stands.  Tiffany’s words made her stomach tighten as she explained her understanding of the human skin-wearing magical creature that had slipped amongst the lambs.

“You can’t deny it, Handsome, nothing pretty comes for free.  Look at the tug and pull between us!  There is a price to pay for everything.  Hags will whisper half-truths and succulent, twisted promises in your ear, giving you cups of sweet nothings to ease your fears… and before you know it, you’re wasted away, wrapped around the piper’s claw, and oh,” she cooed, a delightful quake running through their shared connection in the Nexus.

“Oh, I can see the other shoe drop, this kingdom crashing from within her patient, predatory smile, as the symphony of nations collapse and demons’ talons rise up from within the earth.  Mmm!  The fall is so much tastier from the sidelines.”

Her father remained by the railing, a deep frown on his face as he scanned the thousands of eyes on their box.  “It almost sounds like you admire this hag, Tiff, and we haven’t even met them yet.”

The Witch’s chortal trailed off.  “Oh, Sweetie, you are so adorably innocent.  What you look upon in those stands are all hostages to a bloody crown.  You may judge me all you wish, but your thoughts cannot be worse than mine.  The hag will build your paradise on broken bones with a wide smile, and she will give you heaven… for a moment before snatching it away.”

The orange-eyed woman slipped into their room, her illuminated, entertained eyes meeting the Death Knight’s disgruntled stare.

“You cannot deny it.  These nobles play her game, fighting for their ambition to the plucking strings of a master, who savors every tear they spill, and all for that bloody crown!  They’ll be singing, heaven, heaven… we had it, we had it… then the walls were broken, and we lost it all… revealing the graveyard beyond.  Of course, I admire such masterful acts of witchery.”

Her father drew in his bottom lip as Elinor explored the extent of this suite, listening to the pair argue.  “I cannot imagine working with a creature like…”  he trailed off, but the smirking woman finished his sentence while joining him by the railing.

“…A creature like me, without the constraints of the Empress.  Oh, I can understand the sentiment, but I’m positively thrilled since, to me, a hag is like a rockstar.  The sweet things I could learn from her.  Unfortunately, hags are very jealous and greedy; they don’t like sharing.  I vote for not getting in her way, Empress.  In fact, if one knows how to deal with hags, then she could be of great help.”

Elinor shook her head while studying the rather pretty, thin waterfall that fell from the ceiling, creating a curtain between the sitting areas to act as privacy.

Until we know what Logan plans to do with the knowledge of what the hag intends, we will remain neutral.  Roman’s fear of her is genuine, and it says a lot about her if you are fangirling over her.  I would put her on the same level as the King and Grand Duke, which means we need to be cautious.  As you said, Tiffany, we must be patient.

“Haaa.  Understood.  Still, I hope at least to meet her since just feeling how she utilizes her magic can provide me with wonderful insights.  Maybe we can—oh, and what is this,” she asked, clutching her bag of goodies to her chest as the nobles overhead announced something they had thought was a possibility.

“Queen Alivau Alciel has made her arrival; please welcome Her Royal Majesty!”

Returning to the railing, Elinor stared at the box directly to their right, yet she couldn’t get a fix on her before she retreated from view, the following message making her smile.

“The Queen has directed me to condemn her daughter’s behavior publicly and will be meeting with the Raven Empress shortly to discuss the matter.  Our Queen is truly gracious!”

She saw her father’s stone-cold face at the reception the child-beater received from her people.  “What part of that is an apology?  She’s just dragging her daughter through the mud.  Castria, you are near the stadium, correct?  Did Heather hear that?”

Their new monarch puffed out a drawn-out sigh as a knock came at the door, and Tiffany went to see who it was, though it was certainly not Alivau; it would still be a few minutes before reaching their box.

“Yes, we are, and yes… she heard.  Heather is trying to put on a calm face, but she’s never been so publicly humiliated in front of the commoners or nobles; it practically guarantees she won’t get into the House of Tempest…  Her mother basically said as much last night.”

Elinor tapped her fingers against the stone rail, vision narrowed.  What a horrible mother.  Yes, Heather was out of line when she attacked me over a seat, yet it is obvious where she gained the behavior.

“Hmm.”  The Witch spoke to one of the knights outside before closing the door and retreating to the sitting area to brew a perfect cup of tea.  “As anticipated, the king has asked that you join him in his box within the next forty minutes to discuss an urgent matter.  Also…”

Elinor joined her as her father took the entrance to be ready for the queen.

“Worse than that, Empress.  Princess Heather likely thought she was doing the ‘right thing’ in her mother’s eye by confronting a noble who stole her place.  It is not ‘learned’ behavior; it is ‘trained behavior,’ and one ‘beaten’ into her, which is a critical difference.  I could poison the tea to give her the runs for a week.  Thoughts?”

Somewhat shockingly, her father engaged with the topic.  “Surely, you have something worse than that.  I have no sympathy for parents who abuse their children.”

Laughing at being the voice of reason in this conversation, Elinor shot it down.  Patience, Dad.  I’ve already cornered her into this position, and she will get her dues without us lifting a finger.  Her lies are unraveling.

Legs crossed, she looked between the green plants and running water that decorated the room, providing a lush, serene atmosphere.  Castria, you are with your sister?

“Yes, Empress!  It is insane how strong she’s gotten in just one day of training.  She’s never used a sword before, but now she’s swinging it around with magic.  You… really have changed our lives.  Everyone’s treating me like a real princess.”

Good, Elinor laughed.  Now, don’t choke!  Show them what a commoner Tempest can do.

Cutting the link, she stared at the pot of tea Tiffany brewed with her orange flames; her discussion with the queen would be more brief than the woman probably expected.  When the knock came at the door, her father guided her into the room.

Fingers intertwined atop her lap, Elinor sat in a fancy armchair, only a single couch placed across from her.  Tiffany and her father left them alone, pulling a lever on the outside that created a veil of water that blocked anyone from eavesdropping.

As Elinor expected, Alivau had the same red hair, mirroring her daughter, and was far more accustomed to utilizing makeup—or had someone else do it for her.  Showing piercing blue eyes and a somewhat slender build compared to her curvier daughter, the woman wore an extremely revealing, shoulderless autumn-colored dress that showed off her long legs.

Her fitted bronze crown kept her wild red hair pulled back, but perhaps the most eye-catching thing was her home kingdom’s unique crest; somehow, it was attached just below her exposed collarbone.

Its base was a brown wood, where five uneven amber spikes branched out, two on either side, with the fifth being short and straight.  At its heart was a ruby stone, with three teardrop-shaped gems branching off of it in the shape of a bow.  There had to be something magical to it.

“Queen Alivau,” she greeted with a smile she didn’t feel.  Her focus drifted to her delicate-looking hands that had beat her daughter black-and-blue the previous night, her inch-long nails cut into points that had torn into the 17-year-old girl’s flesh.  “That was quite the public reprimand… for your daughter.”

The woman’s striking stare held no joy in meeting her, holding a noble voice that spoke of her high birthright as the princess of another country.

“If you were in my kingdom, it would have been in your right to burn the flesh off my daughter’s muscles.  Punishment in the Kaspir Kingdom is very lax…  I heard that you called her to the Royal Tombs earlier this morning.  A curious destination, and might I add that you appear quite young to be ruling a kingdom, much less an empire.”

Elinor didn’t bat an eye; there wasn’t a hint of remorse in her face, nor fear.  A twisted smile came to her lips as she met the powerful Tempest’s gaze.  Without a doubt, this queen knew the strength she held, yet this strong entrance was out of a need for survival.  It was time to pivot.

Rising to her feet in the ensuing silence, Elinor moved to examine the plants along the thin veils of water that covered them in light mist.  “It must be challenging to have a daughter so inept compared to her half-brother, the product of a Royal Tempest and Alchemist.  A product of the environment, I’m sure, since your country’s methods yield far greater results with you as an example,” she stated, marveling at the irony.

Yet, Alivau took it as fact, ever the narcissist, sitting back with a tired sigh.  “It seems you do have an understanding of the plight many of the nobles see in the unrightful place the prince holds.  He has spoiled my daughter and made her soft to keep her in check… beneath him.  Despite this, my husband refuses to see reason in the instability that would follow the crowning of a Tempest not of full royal blood.”

She held a hand over her stomach.  “Our next child will be raised… properly.”

I see, Elinor whispered to her court, running her fingers through the water veil.  Heather is to be disowned or thrown under the bus for the incident she caused with me, all so that her mother can maintain her strong image.

“She isn’t a mother,” her father snarled.  “She’s a breeder, looking to train up her prized dog for the show.  Disgusting.”

Tiffany didn’t offer her opinion, choosing to stay out of the discussion.

Turning to direct a secretive smile at the queen, Elinor nodded her head.  “I completely understand.  Now, your husband has requested my presence.  Though short, I learned much from our time together.  I look forward to your thoughts on my gift to the royal family.  Excuse me, but I will leave Queen Tiffany behind to chat.  She has been dying to connect.”

“Naturally.  We must meet again before you depart.  Oh, one more thing,” she slipped in, making Elinor shift to give her a side-long stare.  “As rumor goes, your princess met Prince Drew’s lightning bolt on nearly even ground.  Is that correct?”

Chuckling, she went to the curtain of water as her father pulled the lever to shift its path, allowing her to exit.  “Queen Tiffany can give you a full and accurate account.  Please, enjoy yourselves.”

The queen returned her dignified nod, thinking she was more sympathetic to her case.  Oh, how that would change when the gift became poisonous barbs to strike at the heart of her legitimacy, and Tiffany would sink her sweet fangs into the woman for the toxin to erupt upon Elinor’s performance.

Exiting the room and leaving Tiffany to chat with the queen, she could taste the honeyed victory on her lips.  The Witch Queen was right; the piper always collected her price, and karma hovered over the abusive queen like the ominous blade of a guillotine.

Well, let’s see what direction the Grand Duke went, and if we can find common ground to break apart this stiff, noble society.  Perhaps things are moving more toward a revolution than I thought.  Hehehe.

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