Ch. 457 - Staking a Claim

The idea that Millie wanted to stand on her own two feet was wonderful, but unfortunately, the reality was a little more complicated. The real problem was that this region wasn’t exactly unowned. It had long been full of farming communities, and the fact that it had changed ownership several times in recent decades didn’t change anything but the maps.

While the land around the hulking castle ruins might have been empty, all of the land that was worth owning was already owned. The rolling hills that surrounded it were dotted with villages, fields, and pastures in all directions. Really, none of them looked much different than Lostelam. Some might have grown a bit in the past few years, but really, Simon couldn’t remember clearly enough to say.

While he had enough coin for them to stay in an inn for a few days, he hadn’t planned to need enough gold to buy pasture land. As he relayed the problem, Millie asked, “Why not just turn stones into gold? Isn’t that what magic is for?”

Simon considered explaining to her that he didn’t have the gesture of metal, and had no desire to explain why he wouldn’t speak the words. Instead, he said, “Magic should not be wasted on such frivolities. Would you sacrifice bits of your life just for money?"

As he spoke the words, he realized he’d described work, and felt foolish. Still, some part of him believed it. His life was infinite in a sense, but at the same time, any life was too precious to be spent in such base ways.

Even as he said the words, he recalled how he’d used the word for that on more than one occasion earlier in his magical journey. Rather than dwell on that, though, he considered simply making the journey to the southeast to retrieve one of the coin caches he’d buried previously near the crossroads not far from Ordanvale.

Would walking for so long waste any less energy than simply creating gold from stones? his mind teased as he considered the proposition.

He certainly had enough stashed away for a rainy day, and truthfully, he would have done exactly that, if not for some chance gossip that Millie had heard while loitering with the washerwomen by the river. “Do you know why no one lives around the castle?” she asked. “Not even the new lord?”

“Is it because it’s cursed?” Simon asked with a yawn. “Or perhaps it’s haunted?”

“Well, that too,” she smiled, “but really, it’s because the land is held in trust for the man that saved the valley from the bloodsuckers.”

Simon laughed. “So if we’d stayed instead of finding that secret door, it really could have been your castle. How ironic.”

“Not my castle,” she responded in annoyance as she poked at his chest. “Your castle, mister.”

“I don’t need a castle, functional or in ruins,” Simon laughed, “but if it comes with the land, you can keep it too. I don’t mind.”

It was an unexpected windfall, but it did come with the clause that Simon actually had to claim it and prove it somehow. Honestly, he would have preferred the walk to Ordanvale, even at Millie’s slow pace, but this was better.

I’ll have to deal with another lordling, Simon told himself. Still, he tried to assure himself that it wasn’t going to be so bad, for once.

He visited the family he’d saved years before, and they recognized him instantly. The farmer he’d hoped to enlist as a witness to attest to the truth of his claim had passed away, but his daughters, Emma and Ara, both volunteered to do exactly that. In fact, they fought over it just politely enough that it started to get weird.

“I’d be happy to speak to Lord Viscaro on your behalf,” Ara volunteered.

She looked older now than she had as the hundred-year-old vampire she’d become during their last encounter, but even approaching thirty, that didn’t help him see her as anyone but the pale woman that had woken him long ago.

Her younger sister Emma was only a little older than Millie, with lighter hair and a brighter smile. Simon remembered her less fondly, even though she’d never become a vampire. Still, he smiled blandly as she said, “Now, sister, you’ve got such a busy week, let me handle this while you attend to your other chores.”

Simon was about to answer that it was fine either way, and there was no rush, until their mother intervened. It was then that he realized she was trying to play matchmaker as much as peacemaker in that conversation.

“It’s fine, girls,” she told them. “You can both escort Mr. Simon to meet his lordship on the morrow. Two witnesses are better than one. That way… Millie, was it? That way, she can relax. It sounds like she’s had a frightful trip in all of this.”

Simon expected the normally meek Millie to say something conciliatory there, but instead, she stepped a little closer to Simon and said, “I was there at the castle when the monsters fell. My word is as good as anyone else's."

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After that, he didn’t try to intervene because he was too busy trying to parse what had happened. He was so used to reading auras and etching lately that his social graces had slipped a little bit.

I’m being treated as an eligible bachelor instead of a witchhunter or a mage, he realized slowly.

It wasn’t what he was here for, but he did find the thought mildly amusing. It was obvious that they’d be interested, of course. He was about to inherit a vast tract of land. Any peasant girl would want that, even if it came with the ruins of a haunted castle.

As they eventually all agreed to call on the Lord together in a few days after sending a messenger ahead, Simon made a mental note to investigate the ruins at some point. They probably weren’t actually haunted, and his wands had likely been destroyed in the fire, but if the basement was still accessible, there might be some surprises down there.

After that encounter, the most lasting effect was that Millie seemed more clingy than before, and no amount of assuring her that she’d get to keep the land no matter where he ended up dissuaded her. “I understand that you’ve got other adventures to be on,” she told him the one time he actually tried to make it clear he had no interest in romance.

“It’s not about you,” he told her. “It’s—”

“It’s fine,” she answered. “I understand. A powerful man like you would never be interested in a nobody like me.” If anyone else had said that, he would have thought they were trying to manipulate him, but with Millie, her lack of guile and low sense of self-worth made that the least likely response.

Is it? Do you? Simon almost followed up before waving it off with a shake of his head. He couldn’t respond like that after what she’d just said. She swore that she understood, but according to her aura, she wasn’t so sure.

Simon ignored her furtive flirting, but it wasn’t as easy as putting off Emma and Ara a few nights later, or the count’s own daughter, for that matter. She was the prettiest of the four women who interacted with him that night. The count barely even asked him for evidence that he was the man who had done the deed. Apparently, word of his heroism had been spreading since that night in the tavern, and he’d be well known in this area for a long time to come.

Count Viscaro wasn’t a brute like the Raithwaite’s, not a good man like the Corwins, and Simon could tell from his slick gray aura the moment they met that he sized Simon up as an asset for his rule. The noble’s smiles were wide and genuine as anyone else’s that night, but they never reached his cold, calculating eyes.

He assured Simon, “The plot is yours by right, but in time I might wish to purchase the defenses from you at least, should taxes allow us to rebuild this region’s true strength.”

Simon nodded at that. He’d happily sell the man most of the region back if it set Millie up for life; he didn’t need any money.

He didn’t even mind the man’s mercenary attitude. It only bothered him when the count set his daughter to seducing the prodigal hero. There are easier ways to earn my loyalty than trying to prostitute your nearest and dearest, he thought with disgust.

He might have said it out loud, too, if he’d been a little more drunk. Still, he didn’t want to cause problems for Millie when he was gone. So, he smiled as long as the girl tried to ingratiate herself with him over dinner, but didn't go past that.

While the food was excellent, enduring that much attention was a painful experience for Simon. Attracting the attention of too many beautiful young women would have been a strange thing to complain about, so he said nothing, but still, it made him uncomfortable, and by the end of the meal, he’d half made up his mind that his brightening aura was attracting them like moths to the flame, even though that was impossible.

My experience isn’t even up to 600,000, he reminded himself. Something like that might matter when I get above a couple million, but for now, it's just the money.

Well, it was the money and the reputation. He didn’t even have to tell the story that night. The sisters and the count did that for him. Years had passed, but he was a local legend.

When the meal was over, they stumbled back from the gathering far drunker than Simon had intended, though that was only because it would have been rude not to drink to toasts given in his name. It was nice to be seen as a hero again, but it was nicer to be alone with Millie. He’d missed that.

Because she doesn’t look at you with greed in her eyes, he reminded himself as he looked at the pretty young woman.

Only with adoration, Simon tried to assure himself that he also appreciated her because she was kind, and she hadn’t once even hinted at his magical powers throughout the whole evening, but even considering all of that, her beauty still drew him in.

You’re drunk, he scolded himself. She’s like twenty, which is, what, five percent of your age? You want to hit on someone, go see if the Oracle is single. She’s probably old enough, at least.

Simon had no desire to find out what the Oracle was hiding beneath her veils, at least not in a sexual sense. He kept his hands to himself with Millie, too, even though she still slept in the same bed as him. That was harder, because she clearly wanted to be kissed on the way back to their inn.

Fortunately, in the morning, the only thing he regretted was the hangover, and when he went downstairs, he pocketed his curing talisman to take care of that while he got both of them some porridge.

Just a few more weeks, Simon, he told himself. You just need to help her build a cottage, start a herd, and find a hound, and then you can leave in good conscience and explore the desert.

That calmed him. It was true. A week, a month, or even a year from now, the desert would still be there, utterly unchanged. Realistically, he had more than a season to finish business here and start back before he even had to worry about the weather. That let him breathe easier; as much as he really had all the time in the world, he never truly felt like it.