Book 4 Chapter 6: Promises and Negotiations

++The correlation in talent between magician children and their parents is moderately high, though far from 100%. Geniuses rarely give birth to geniuses, but they tend to make notably talented successors, who in turn make talented ones themselves. Repeated over enough generations, this leads to some truly staggering results. Of course, there are also those whose talent is so anomalous that even a partial correlation all but guarantees extraordinary children. ++

- Analysis of the marriage patterns of magician families, recorded 1,822 A.E.

While I left the Vorets to stew on my offer and conditions, I had a lot of free time on my hands.

In theory I had more free time now than at any other point since my rebirth. I was solely under my own power and did not have to answer to anyone; not parent, teacher nor commanding officer. And yet I had money, lots of it, which essentially meant I could do as I pleased. If I had truly wanted to, I could simply have lived out my life relaxing in the lap of luxury.

Ha! A ridiculous thought of course, if I did that then who would kill all Gods and rule the universe? Some other magician, no doubt, and they would probably be an idiot who did a terrible job of it. No, only right that Lord Dread be the one to master all of creation.

On the scale of that particular ambition, everything I was doing right now felt rather petty, but the journey of a thousand miles begins with a single step. As does a journey spanning the cosmos. The first of these steps took me into the air as I flew towards the Duke of Wolsingham’s manor. It was at least convenient that Laugrey concentrated so many of Garamon’s luminaries so close together, I could have walked the distance in half an hour, and was now flying it in less than a minute.

As before, I was left waiting outside for a moment, though I found him granting me a reception far quicker than the Vorets had. A mark in his favour, I decided. Someone who did not feel so cripplingly strong of an ego would be less inconvenient when I inevitably started taking charge of whatever arrangement we ended up with. I was welcomed into his home by a servant and quickly escorted to meet him in the living room. He was waiting for me by the fire, drink already in hand.

“Vornholt!” he smiled as he turned to see me, gesturing for the seat opposite him. “Sit, please. And have a drink. I insist this time.”

I wanted to argue, but got the sense that he really was insisting, and knew how prickly Garamon’s nobility could be in their own homes. Besides, I wanted to test out the toxin resistance of my new body. I had sadly been forced to keep it as non-supernatural as possible, but I ought to still metabolise things like alcohol far better than a normal human.

My taste buds, however, did not have any added resistance to the tang on my tongue. My eyes were watering as I gulped down the burning liquid, and the Duke laughed.

“Not a drinker then?”

“No,” I replied between coughs.

He sipped his own drink.

“You’re here about that marriage I assume.”

“I am, specifically to update you on my plans.”

That left his smile wavering, a truly satisfying sight. In all of these meetings, the Duke had been relatively pleasant. Relative to Garamon at least. But he had always enjoyed the advantage of power in our interactions, and he had always known it. He thought he did now as well. I was looking forward to disabusing him of that notion.

“What’s the update?” he asked evenly.

“I have been in talks with the Vorets regarding the prospect of my marrying into them,” I replied flatly, and was greatly satisfied to see him splutter as he seemed to inhale some portion of his own poison.

“The—what? They were just attacking you!”

I shrugged. “They thought I was weak enough for them to get away with it. Now they know they were wrong, and we are having an honest conversation. They have made me a very interesting offer.”

I saw his eyes narrow as he finally realised what was happening. “You’re trying to start a bidding war between me and them, is that right?”

“I am updating you about my situation,” I said smoothly. “That is all. I knew you were interested in me, so it seemed prudent.”

“Well I’m not playing your game,” he snapped. Then paused. “...What was their offer anyway?”

“Ten million crowns, and essentially complete autonomy from the family provided I continue giving them magical children.”

“Well if you think I’m going to get in competition with them, you have another thing coming,” the Duke growled. “Was the refinery attack even real?”

I sighed. “I do not think you need to ask me that question, the evidence has been documented well enough.” Plenty of reporters and investigators sniffed around the sight of my attack shortly after it, and they all seemed rather convinced by the bomb-sized craters littering the landscape, among other things. The whole section of glinting glass where my magical cannons had melted silica into a crystalline layer over the sands was of particular memorability.

This book was originally published on NovelPhoenix. Check it out there for the real experience.

But the Duke must have known all this, I imagined he had been keeping a careful eye on all my affairs. He was simply unused to being made to compete for anything. The Vorets, as insular and hostile as they were to any but their own, at least knew what it was like to suffer friction from wider society. Magicians seemed to learn that lesson well in Garamon.

Calming, the Duke continued the conversation in a more measured tone.

“I suppose I can’t complain,” he sighed at last. “What was it I said to you? Something about how I need to act in the best interest of my own family?”

“Something like that,” I concurred, not bothering to recite the sentence word for word. The Duke smiled dryly.

“Well, this’ll show me I suppose.”

I waited for him to move onto something more substantial than his show of modesty, real or otherwise. Fortunately it did not take long.

“You are aware I do not have the material wealth of the Vorets?” he asked.

“I am,” I confirmed.

“And you know, then, that I can’t make solid, quantifiable promises in the way they can.”

“So what promises can you make?” I asked him. “If you cannot make any reliable pledges for me then I see no reason to go for you over them.”

He was not quite squirming, but I could tell he was being put through his paces. Another jolt of satisfaction. Things really had flipped in dynamic for me with Garamon’s nobility of late.

“...My connections in parliament are quite significant,” he noted.

“What can that tangibly do for me?” I asked.

He hesitated, seeming to think for some time before finally deciding on his next move and speaking again.

“Have you heard of the Domestic Act?”

“No.”

“It’s a piece of legislation being juggled around parliament at the moment, pertaining to a woman’s right to seek protection from her husband in the case of…let’s say cruelty.”

“I am not interested in that,” I told him flatly. I had long since become powerful enough that I was not afraid of being struck or beaten by whomever I married. The Duke frowned, seeming genuinely baffled.

“You…aren’t interested in women’s protections?”

“I am interested in my protection,” I told him. I considered that. “Any sweeping changes that benefit me would be welcome, but this one would not. I am one of the world’s more powerful magicians, and I expect to be even stronger by the time I am married. I do not need domestic protection.”

His surprise was satisfying to see, but did not last long.

“Then what about an official contract with Garamon for your business?” he asked me. “What was it called again, Bountiful Oil?”

This did have me interested. “Go on,” I told him.

“Currently Garamon purchases from all sorts in Poloira, and most in parliament are rather unhappy with that fact. I believe I could persuade them to switch over to a business controlled by a good, old Garamon family, and of course this would bring in a guaranteed stream of income for you as the controller of that business. You tend to sell your oil cheaply, if you marked up for ‘transportation costs’ then Garamon’s geriatric voters wouldn’t notice, and I can assure you we purchase enough oil that you could expand your existing infrastructure with an essential guarantee of never hitting the limits of demand.”

That did sound appealing. More so than a payment of five or even ten million crowns, this was a guarantee of income for so long as the agreement held. I could bring in tens of millions of crowns by the year if I prepared my business for this deal ahead of time.

“I will take that into consideration,” I told the Duke. “And what of my independence under you?”

His face tightened at that. “It’s not proper for a wife to be seen as too independent, you know,” he told me.

I just eyed him blankly and waited for him to either concede or not.

“...Provided you agreed to make the occasional, proper public display,” he said evenly, “I see no reason you could not continue to do as you pleased.” He paused. “Though I would expect children.”

Ah yes, it all came down to that in the end.

I did not think about that particular prospect, telling myself that it was not yet an imminent concern. Instead I just shrugged. “We can discuss that after I know for a fact I will go with you instead of the Vorets. Do you have any further offers?”

The Duke seemed rather surprised to not have been accepted outright, but measured his response. “Not as of this moment,” he said evenly.

I nodded to him, got to my feet and started for the door. Exiting the mansion was uneventful, heading back into the air felt dull and lifeless despite the thrills of wind on my skin and distance flitting by beneath me. I could not quite bring myself to focus on anything but my recent conversations.

This new body of mine was capable of reproduction, I assumed. I had made it to exactly mirror my old one, excluding the specific things I had altered on purpose, of which my reproductive system was not one. I had long since gotten used to period pains and the other inconveniences of organic flesh, but the idea of actual reproduction needled me in some deep way I struggled to articulate.

And the fact that it needled me was more annoying still. It was a clear path to power, an obvious run on the ladder of my destiny. Why was I hesitating, even doubting that I ought to pursue it?

It all came down to the new body and its unpredictable sensations and squirming. It all came down to the meat.

I was not sure what disgusted me more; the prospect of childbirth or the fact that I was being so squeamish about accepting an obvious path to power. I had long since come to terms with the changes to my psychology, but this one…this one shook me.

I would consider the prospect as Lord Dread next, when I was able to occupy a leyline to myself. That always helped to centre me and see things more clearly. For now…well, I did not have to make a decision just yet. I continued flying.