The party continued well into the afternoon. Eric conversed with many, many people, taking congratulation after compliment after flattering comment. Misty received her equal share, as these high nobles and upper-crust of society saw the potential in courting diplomatic ties with what was ostensibly going to be one of the most prominent power-couples in the kingdom.
Thankfully, the Baxter family had done their diligence and Marley had kept his promise to Eric. The gazetter’s had been doing their spin job excellently, and Eric’s testimony during the trial had been snipped, edited, put into the papers, and widely distributed. Rumors had been put into the right ears, and the widely-respected Baxter family marrying the Blackflame Warlock into their family was proof enough to the populace as a whole that the actions Eric took were justified and warranted to protect the Kingdom.
Eric’s reputation was secured by the marriage.
At what must have been nightfall, Eric ended up being guided—along with his fellow Summoned and their spouses—as the group were asked to come to a section of the room by the various heads of the old-blood families for a brief conversation.
Eric knew each of them by name. Marley, of course, who gave him a deep nod of approval, which Eric returned, was standing next to his peers and conversing as the Summoned filtered their way over.
Andedroma Marshall was the matriarch of the Marshall family. She looked very similar to Naomi’s spouse, with the same dark hair and piercing eyes. She was conversing with Marley in regard to some construction of a new wing to a hospital that would service the border of the lower- and middle-city. She barely gave Eric a glance, engrossed as she was in her conversation with Marley.
To her left, chatting with Peter who had beaten Eric and Misty to the small meeting, was the head of the Ghulara family and the Paladin’s new father-in-law: Kory. Next to the broad specimen of a man with a boisterous laugh was his wife, Gina. Eric knew both of them well, as he had gone out to their fields many times to tend to livestock and practice new medical techniques and test out ideas before implementing them on people. They were kind souls who just wanted to do what they did best—tend the fields and feed people.
The last person who was part of the old-blood upper echelons of power structure was an ostentatiously dressed woman in a gold dress with dark black hair and the same deep blue eyes as her son. Harriet Valagonia was standing quietly on her own, eyes boring into Eric as he approached, one hand on a gold-capped walking stick that she leaned on for support, and the other holding a wine cup filled with ruby liquid.
Eric walked over and dipped his head. “I believe we have yet to meet.”
She dipped her head. “Apologies for not bowing. My leg won’t let me. Tabulator Harriet Valagonia, if you please.”
Eric smiled. “Pleasure to meet you.” He looked at Misty. “Have you met before?”
Misty smiled and said, “Yes, of course, though it has been some years. How goes business?”
“Very well, but it could be better.”
Eric was about to inquire as to why, but Marley came over and interrupted the conversation. “There’s my new son-in-law!” He chuckled and wrapped an arm around Eric’s shoulder. “And a knight-errant, no less? With the ear of our future Queen herself?” He slapped Eric on the back, then looked at Harriet. “What do you think of that, eh?”
Harriet Valagonia smiled in a cool, collected manner. “It is fascinating. Did you hear that she granted each Summoned a royal favor?”
Marley peered at Eric out of the corner of his eye. “I did not.”
Eric chuckled. “I used mine already.”
That seemed to catch the Valagonia matriarch off guard, and she said in a near-incredulous voice, “What could you have possibly asked for?”
“You’ll see,” Eric replied.
The other Summoned were able to filter their way over by that time, and Kory Ghulara drew himself up to his full height. Other nobles nearby were mingling, but obviously listening in to the conversation of the four old-blood families and their newly-married-off children. Despite only one of them being eldest and in line to inherit—Naomi’s husband, James—anything that the old-blood were up to was instantly going to become upper-city gossip.
“Now then,” Kory said as he put his hands together and rubbed them. “This four-way marriage was a pain to put together, but, I feel that we should give proper thanks to Tabulator Harriet Valagonia for her masterful coordination with our various house Castellans.”
Everyone gave a polite round of applause, and the woman grinned, but Eric knew that it was a mask. She was not a people person, and hated public events. “My thanks,” she said. “But we all pitched in monetarily. It was a group effort.”
“Yes, it was,” Andedroma Marshall replied in her calm, rational voice which seemed to instantly quiet the festive atmosphere. “But let’s not delay too long. The party must go on, and we should make this quick.”
Shannon looked at her husband, Cecil. “What’s this about then?”
Cecil shrugged, and Marley Baxter answered. “It’s simple enough, really. Us four” —he used a sweeping hand to gesture between the family patriarchs and matriarchs— “haven’t always seen eye to eye. Not for lack of trying, mind you. But, with you four” —he used his opposite hand to make the same sweeping gesture across the Summoned— “being tied together as allies, with plans to continue delving into The Twilight Depths, it makes sense to all be on the same page.”
Naomi curtly nodded. “I believe I understand.” She looked at her husband, James. “You understand as well, yes?”
“I do,” the man replied. He then looked at his mother, Andedroma Marshall. “We are to have a similar schedule?”
“Precisely,” the woman replied. “It has been agreed that the Summoned and their spouses should stay at the Summoned estate as much as possible during the week, barring unusual circumstances, to keep the ties of friendship strong. Not just between Summoned, but to foster new ties.”
Marley added, “Cecil and Misty already count each other as friends—the goal is to foster friendship amongst all of you. Ideally, eventually, when our times come and you all rise to positions of prominence, the old-blood families will be closer than ever. And, of course, you’d then inherit appropriate estates and lands as suited to your station.”
Harriet Valagonia, lastly, added, “It is the most rational course of action.” Her addition seemed blunt and forced, as if she dreaded the plan but saw the wisdom in the course.
Eric saw what the heads of the families were doing, and was all for it. Their plan was, quite frankly, perfectly in line with his goal of fortifying Tenebria. In turn, that would allow them to have a larger influence on the kingdom’s policies, and strengthen the whole of the country in preparation for the impending war he expected to come.
“That sounds great!” Shannon said excitedly.
“I’m all for it,” Peter added.
Others added their acknowledgement, words of affirmation, or acceptance. When it came around to Eric and Misty, he just looked at her, and then back to the various family heads. “It sounds fantastic. My only question is going to be if we could maybe get a stipend? Our estate fund from dungeon diving is pretty decent, and what the king gave us when we arrived is nice, but if we have that many people there—even one day and night a week—I imagine we’ll want to expand the size of the main building if we are all living there together.”
“For privacy reasons,” Misty added.
At that, Kory Ghulara let out a bellowing, belly laugh, then elbowed Marley. “What do you think, Marley? Can you spare the coin?”
Marley chuckled. “I’d be open to a split if the Marshall family can help with the plans.”
The matriarch of that family cooly replied, “Easy enough for us. Tabulator Harriet Valagonia?”
Harriet let out a slight sigh, but smiled warmly at her son Cecil, who was clasping Shannon’s ribbon-bound hand. “Anything for my sweet boy.”
“Then it’s settled,” Kory said. “We’ll foot the bill for expanding out the Summoned estate. Oh, that reminds me,” he looked over at Peter. “You were talking about Mastidorses, I believe?”
“We were,” Peter replied. “There’s enough space for stabling a few. Not permanently, since they need space to roam, but just when we need to put them up for the night or a brief stay.”
“Agreed. I’ll send some of my lads up to set a few stalls and stabling.”
Shannon squeed at that. “We get those fluffy dog-things?!”
The various family heads looked at her quizzically, but it was Harriet who asked, “What is a dog?”
At that, Naomi lost her composure and burst out laughing. Eric couldn’t help but chuckle as well; one reason was because he forgot that Elyndians didn’t know what dogs were, but another was because Naomi’s Makerspark influence seemed to have faded the longer she was away from her workshop.
“What’s so funny?” her husband, James, asked, seemingly out of the loop.
Eric quickly explained, “It’s a common animal where we are from. Mastidorses look like a mix between a dog and a horse.”
“Horses haven’t existed for thousands of years,” Kory said. “Bred out of extinction in favor of the hardier Mastidorse. Better for multiple climates, much friendlier and easier to train, and they can be kept indoors if you potty train them properly.”
There was further chat and conversation about the topic of animals from Earth, but the matriarch of the Valagonia family slipped away, and that seemed to be the go-ahead indicator for others to start to depart the conversation. Eric and Misty took their leave and departed, making for the food and drink tables.
As they were talking quietly to one another and taking samples of different delicious-looking bites, the General, Kristoff Iron-Eye, came over to them. “Pardon me, Chirurgeon Misty Baxter. May I speak to your husband?”
Misty looked at the General. “By all means. Is it a private conversation, or—”
“I do need to take him in private, unfortunately.”
Eric squeezed Misty’s hand, turned, and gave her a kiss. “I’ll be back soon.” He untied the ribbon, pushed the loose end into her palm, and then followed the General down a corridor, which then took them down another two hallways.
The small council chamber? he thought. Why am I being led here of all places?
He learned why soon enough, as he saw Princess Amber Tremaunt, one of the king’s healers, Magistra of Integration Seraphine d’Orveil, Castellan Marcella Clairemont, Spymaster Persim Mistra, and Chancellor Bortis Faltear, all seated in their positions. The Princess was seated in the king’s chair, with the healer behind and to her side. To her right, there was another chair pulled out.
She raised her right hand and gestured to that seat. “My knight-errant, attend me.”
Eric did as he was told, moving to the seat and taking it. The Princess gestured to the doors, and the General shut them before coming over to the table and taking his seat.
The healer cleared his throat. “The King is dead.”
Immediately, everyone’s faces went stern. Amber quietly said, “Tonight is for celebration, not for mourning. I have advised the healers to keep the death quiet, for now. The body will be prepared, and news will go out the day after tomorrow. Let people celebrate tonight, relax for tomorrow, and then we will proclaim . . . my father’s demise.”
“Sound advice,” the Chancellor said in his most ass-kissing voice possible.
Amber flicked her eyes up to him, and her gaze was stern. “Chancellor, do not try and butter me up. I am being guided by The Index itself, and it has warned me to not give my full trust to anyone.”
Indedroma spoke in Eric’s mind.
[Except for you. But, she won’t say that aloud. And, Persim, but I’ll wait until Persim informs her—which will happen in all likelihood.]
Thanks for the intel, Eric thought back.
He didn’t really know how to feel about the King’s death. Ambivalent, he supposed. The man was not really influential in either timeline. The big difference was that in this timeline, he died much, much sooner. In the prior timeline, the king had perished after four years.
Perhaps Alp was keeping him alive somehow? Via his control Skill? Some type of upgrade which enabled him to afflict someone, but while they were afflicted, increase their lifespan?
[Possibly. I can look at the former Steward’s build via mana construct memories—yes, it appears that the Skill he got from that invasion dungeon-based Class was, indeed, a mind-controlling one that enabled artificial lengthening of lifespans. The disease was already something afflicting the monarch, apparently, and it wasn’t until the Skill was gone that it was able to claim his life.]
Then in the now-extinct future timeline, Alp must have let the Skill fade intentionally once he had a strong enough grip on the kingdom and the Prince.
[Seems likely.]
Eric returned his attention fully to the conversation at hand. Thankfully, his and Indedroma’s talks were at the speed of thought, and so he really didn’t miss anything as a fraction of a second passed.
“I am now Queen,” Amber bluntly said. “When I deem it necessary, I will have my knight-errant present at small council meetings.”
Eric received a variety of looks from across the rectangular table.
The Spymaster, at the Queen’s left hand, was inscrutable with her hood and mask raised. The General, on the far left end, gave Eric an approving nod and the edge of his mouth cracked into a smile. Across from Eric, the Magistra Seraphine’s eyebrow twitched in possible annoyance or irritation. Next to her, the Castellan had a look of confusion, and began to speak, but perhaps Seraphine’s hand under the table kept her silent, as her mouth snapped shut. Last, the Chancellor, Bortis, gave Eric a look of annoyance.
“I am honored,” Eric said. “I will serve the kingdom’s will.”
Queen Amber let out a long, slow breath. Then, she sharply inhaled. “Priorities. We must fill the missing roles on our small council. How goes the search for our next Admiral?”
The General replied. “The leaders of our northern and southern fleets are the best candidates, and are coming here for interviews. You will have your choice, your majesty.”
“When it comes to the role of Steward,” Seraphine began, “Chancellor Marcella Clairemont has been a steady hand guiding the citadel, and would be more than ready to step into the position of Steward. My younger sister, Overseer Xeraphine d’Orveil, is adequately prepared to fill the position of Chancellor in an intermediary role until a suitable candidate is found.”
“No,” Amber replied. “I have a Steward selected already.” She leaned over to the healer, whispered something, and the healer bowed and left the room. “Now then,” she said as she settled into her seat. “We have my father’s death proclamation in two days’ time. He was a kind, just ruler who passed many reforms. We need to plan an appropriate funeral.”
“An idea, your grace,” Eric said.
“Go ahead.”
“The Crystalline Moment is something that few witness,” Eric began. “I recommend erecting the king’s sepulchre on the Green Mount, and providing signage for the masses to travel along the main boulevard and a marked side trail, along with instructions, to witness that moment in time with the king’s grave marker in the background. It will send a powerful message—this is the man who made sure the kingdom prospered. Yet, even in death, he continues to give.”
Amber frowned. “I do not know of this Crystalline Moment.”
Chancellor Bortis stood up and explained the entire process, including how the glimpses into other realities occurred. By the time he had finished, Queen Amber was nodding along and seemed quite enthused by the idea.
“This sounds like an excellent way to ensure my father’s memory is imprinted into the minds of Tenebria’s citizens. But, the upper-city population will chafe at the idea of having lower- and middle-city populace given free roam. Instead, we will need to arrange escorted groups.” She looked at the Castellan. “Arrange for king’s guards to provide such escorts from the middle-city up to the Green Mount. We’ll have to ensure it is timed with this moment. But, we should make this open to all of Tenebria’s citizens.”
“Brilliant idea,” the Castellan replied. But, her voice was subdued.
Eric tried to read her expression, and saw the downcast look on her face, underlying the polite smile. He had taken away the promotion she was probably looking forward to for most of her life. But, he knew she was young, and would outlive Marley. She would likely be the Steward in twenty years’ time.
The more important expression he saw was Seraphine’s. She was looking at the Queen, and the expression on her face was almost impossible to read. But, Eric knew the woman well enough by now to know that there was a hint of disgust. Seraphine’s plans had been foiled—she had not been able to get her younger sister into a position of power.
The doors opened, and the healer led Marley Baxter into the room, then shut the doors behind him. Marley said, “This is unexpected.”
Queen Amber stood up. “Marley Baxter, I know you are not one for titles so I will skip with the pleasantries. My father has perished.”
Marley stopped in his tracks. “Ah. My condolences, your highness.”
“Today is for celebration, and tomorrow for recovery. We shall declare and mourn the day after tomorrow. For now, I need a Steward. I would name you.”
Marley looked flabbergasted, but then his face widened into a grin. “I would be honored to accept, your highness. But, if you don’t mind me asking, why me?”
Queen Amber looked at Eric. “My knight-errant asked it of me. His royal favor in exchange for this act.”
Ah, Eric thought. Shit.
Seraphine’s hint of disgust that was angled at the Queen turned on Eric, and he felt every bit of the same ire that he had felt from her in the now-extinct future timeline.
There was one major difference this time around. This time, Eric was in a position of power and authority. The Queen’s knight-errant—something he didn’t expect. Her right hand, though he had no clue what that would actually look like or entail. Seraphine had served her purpose; she had protected the Summoned from the corrupt small council members, had helped with investigating their actions, and probably done other things behind the scenes to support Eric’s plots.
That was done now. Eric was past that stage. Now, he needed to prepare the Kingdom of Trok for what was coming. If Seraphine was going to be a hindrance to that, he would have to deal with that. But, hopefully, the Spymaster would be able to make her friend see reason.
I’ll have to talk to Persim, Eric thought, and get her to convince Seraphine to see reason.
Marley walked over to the open chair marked with the word STEWARD across from the General, to Eric’s right, and sat down as the Queen did. “My thanks, Blackflame Warlock Eric Baxter. Or, should we call you knight-errant?”
Amber shook her head. “That is not his Class.”
“Pardon me,” Eric said, looking at her. “I serve you, as I have said and sworn to, but what exactly will that entail?”
Amber met his gaze, and those eyes were filled with purpose. “You serve the will of Trok. You advise me when I request it. You are my blade of retribution when I identify a threat that needs to be decisively dealt with.”
Eric dipped his head. “I understand.” He truly did. This was about the best he could have hoped for. In fact, this situation had panned out far better than he had ever dreamed it could have. He was, in just a single day, practically the second-most powerful political figure in the kingdom aside from the Queen. Knowing that Indedroma via her mana constructs was going to be directly advising Amber made him feel secure in the knowledge that the woman would listen to his advice, and thus he could guide her decisions to the best path forward.
Amber cleared her throat. “The small council is to meet here tomorrow to discuss the funeral arrangements, as well as how we will announce the king’s demise to the populace. There will also need to be a formal coronation—I shall have my Castellan place the crown upon my head, and the General appoint my shoulders with the blade of office, as tradition dictates.” She looked at the empty seat of the Admiral, who would normally handle the bestowing of the cloak that came with the office. “As we have no Admiral, I shall appoint my knight-errant in their stead.”
Marley dipped his head. “By your will, your highness.”
Amber turned to Eric. “Go and be with your wife. Enjoy your wedding night. I will not need your presence at tomorrow’s meeting.” She reached into a concealed pocket, and handed Eric a silver bar-style stud-earring. “This directly communicates to me. I will contact you when I need you.”
Eric immediately put it up next to the Spymaster’s golden earring and pushed some mana into the device. It slipped through the skin and cartilage and when he let the mana fade it was affixed in place. “Thank you, my Queen. If you will excuse me, then, I will see to my beloved.” He stood up, gave a small bow to the small council members, and began to leave.
On his way out, he had to pass by his father-in-law’s chair. Marley whispered, “Good job, we’ll talk later.”
Eric opened the doors, shut them behind him, then leaned against them and let out a breath.
[That went rather well.]
Eric chuckled and shook his head, then went back toward the wedding hall.
***
It was late by the time Eric and Misty arrived back at the Baxter estate. The duo got into Misty’s room, and while neither were drunk, they both were in that nice state between tipsy and inebriated where they felt good and loose.
Misty let out a giggle as she shut the door behind them both. “Lose the clothes,” she said.
Eric began to disrobe, and as he did, Misty took off bits and pieces of her outfit. As she discarded them onto the floor, she walked over to her bedside drawer and pulled out two vials filled with a cloudy liquid. She held them up and clinked them together with her fingers. “Sylphdram for our wedding night.”
Eric got out of his shirt and walked over, starting to reach for one of the vials. But, Misty pulled them away. “I’ve had it before,” Eric said. “Our first time.”
She shook her head. “Not this stuff. This isn’t diluted. Plus, I added yriththistle, which is a stimulant—I believe based on our dinner conversation, methamphetamine matches up to? This isn’t addictive, but it is going to keep us up all night . . . and perhaps all day tomorrow.” She slipped back onto the bed and jiggled the vials as if they were some type of hanging, forbidden fruit awaiting their turn to be plucked. “The question I have, Eric Baxter, is can you keep up with me for an entire night and possibly the following day?”
Eric finished discarding his clothes, went over to his trunk, and grabbed the Silence Node. “Oh, I’m more than capable,” he said with a sultry smile. “The question I have is, do you want everyone to hear you screaming my name, or just me?”
Misty put on a thoughtful expression. “Hmm . . . well, I know my brothers won’t be staying here tonight, and given that I’ve heard my father railing many a woman in his chambers . . . it’s my wedding night. If people don’t like what they hear, they can leave.”
Eric was taken aback by that answer, but didn’t complain or comment in any way. He’d bedded in brothels, surrounded by the moans of other people. Being heard didn’t perturb him in the slightest. He put the Silence Node away and moved onto the bed. “You’re still a bit dressed,” he said, putting as much seduction into his words as possible, but finding it came very easily given how much he felt pure attraction and affection for the woman before him.
Misty took one of the vials. “Open your mouth,” she ordered. Eric did as she said, and she uncorked the vial and poured it into his gullet. Then, she uncorked her own, swallowed it down, and tossed both vials onto the floor where they clattered and rolled off to some corner. “It shouldn’t take long to kick in given our elevated heart rates and increased blood flow,” she said.
Eric moved over to her, so that he was above her, and leaned down so that he was whispering in her ear. “I love it when you talk like that.” He could feel her shudder from his hot breath on her neck, and made sure to follow up the words with a few nibbles that made her writhe. He knew that the best way to make sure she had the best night imaginable was to build up the anticipation as much as he could.
She was practically squirming under him, and whispered, “Eric, stop.”
He pulled away and pushed himself back up. She was huffing in breaths and looking at him with those intense, beautiful eyes. “Are you sure you want me to—”
Misty wrapped her arms around his neck and pulled him down for a kiss on the lips, and their tongues danced, pushing against one another. She wrapped one of her legs around his and moved a hand down to grip his lower back, then pulled away and took in a breath. “I should’ve taken my clothes off before I got on the bed,” she panted out.
“Shall I?” Eric asked, just as out of breath from their intimate kiss. She nodded, biting her lower lip. Eric moved his way down her body, placing little kisses as he pulled the buttons apart and loosed ties before pulling them the rest of the way with his teeth. Finally when he reached her more intimate areas, he made sure to spend quite a bit of time there, catering to her needs.
The way that she screamed, dug her fingers into his hair, and squeezed her thighs around his head were all the confirmation he needed to know that he was doing exactly what he had learned with perfect precision. From traveling with a caravan of professional sex trade workers, to being the personal plaything of a dominant woman, Eric had been instructed and well-informed. Despite not having put those skills to practice in a while—aside from his recent dates—thanks to the Paths Within, he didn’t actually need to practice.
By the time she was begging him to stop, he was pent up and wanted her more than anything in the world. She looked down at him, chest heaving, and let out a light laugh of post-orgasm, ecstatic delight. “That . . . was incredible,” she whispered.
Eric moved back up so that he was right over her, and looked into her eyes. “You’re incredible,” he replied, using one hand to move her hair out of her face. “My wife.”
She pulled him in close with her legs and Eric let out a mixed groan and sigh of relief and pleasure as she guided the way to heavenly bliss.
***
Eric didn’t bother keeping track of time. The only moments he and Misty took breaks were to slip out in some robes, grab some water, wine, and food from the kitchen, and abscond back to their bedroom.
The duo were lost in the joys of love and the pleasures of one another, and didn’t have a care in the world. Even when the news of the king’s demise was sent out on the sixty-third, the duo ignored it, still fueled by the joy of recent marriage and the potent pharmaceutical that Misty had concocted and brewed up.
It wasn’t until the two had emptied the limited pantry in the Baxter estate kitchen—which only had a few day’s worth of food, since the family didn’t stay there for long periods often—that the duo had to finally return to reality.
Eric checked his bracer as he finished getting his dungeon diving Gear and usual attire on. It was the sixty-fifth of Fall.
“How long have we been in here?” Misty asked as she wrapped her arms around his neck and looked over his shoulder.
“Three days and nights,” Eric replied.
Misty giggled and kissed him on the cheek. “I think I might have overdone it on the yriththistle.”
Eric turned and snagged a lip-kiss. “Maybe a bit too much. That was still incredible.”
“Too much of a good thing can kill you. It’s not good to do that too much for heart health.”
Eric chuckled. “Yeah, well, we have magical healing for that.” At her slight pouty face he added, “I know it’s not as good as your healing, but it’s what I can use.”
She gave him an approving grin. “Good boy. Any messages?”
Eric flipped to that function on his bracer and shook his head. “No. But, that’s not too surprising. I bet that everyone’s busy like we were.”
“Even Peter and Naomi?”
“Peter’s probably spending his time with Benson at the Ghulara estate,” Eric replied, “while his wife is with her lover, respectively. I imagine Naomi is having the time of her life with another intellectual who might be near her equal up at the Marshall estate. Board games galore.” He shrugged. “In any case, we do need to start back into the Twilight Depths.”
“End of the world and all that,” Misty muttered.
Eric turned to face her and grabbed her hands. “We’re going to stop it, and secure Trok.” He rubbed her thumbs with his. “And you and me? We’re going to live forever. Me with killing monsters, you with being put into new bodies whenever you want.”
“First we have to figure out cloning, husband.”
“We have time,” Eric replied. He stood up. “Well . . . shall we?”
The duo spent some time packing away all of Misty’s things, as she was effectively moving into the Summoned estate as her new permanent residence. Servants would bring over the majority of it, but she had to pack one trunk for the short term until the rest was brought over. Eric grabbed that one.
He grabbed his trunk and Misty followed on his heels as he moved to the door, opened it, and headed into the main part of the building.
To his slight surprise, a servant was waiting near the doors. They straightened up and cleared their throat. “Pardon me, but Marley wanted to speak with you, Eric, before you departed.”
“Ah, well, is he here?”
“On campus. Shall I fetch him?”
Eric looked at Misty, and she shrugged. Eric replied, “We can go to him.”
The servant grabbed a large umbrella, opened it, then opened the door and guided the two across the water-covered stone pathway toward one of the lecture buildings. After guiding them inside, he led them to a lecture hall, and asked them to wait outside. A few moments later, Marley came out with the servant.
“Ah, there’s my son-in-law.” He looked at Misty. “Have a good honeymoon period?” he asked with a cheeky grin.
“We need the chef to re-stock the kitchen,” Misty replied.
“That’s my daughter,” Marley replied with a chuckle. “Going to give me grandchildren any day then, eh?”
Misty blushed a bit, and grabbed Eric’s hand, giving it a squeeze. They had talked about it already, and were of a similar mind—until the Titan threat was dealt with and the kingdom was secured, no children. They’d both take Seedstop and kids were strictly off the table.
Eric asked, “What did you want to talk about?”
“Ah, I just wanted to thank you. You used your royal favor to get me the Steward position on the small council.” Marley looked at Misty. “She must’ve told you I’ve been hoping to get the position for some time.”
“I did,” Misty lied, covering for Eric’s fore-knowledge.
Marley grinned. “Well, I am going to make this kingdom the best it can be. We’ll be able to finally, finally, put together that universal healthcare system I’ve been dreaming of. Once that need is taken care of, then we just need to work out universal food, which, I have been speaking with Kory and Gina Ghulara about. They are on board, but it needs official distribution . . . which I can start to coordinate.”
“You should speak to Naomi,” Eric said. “She knows how to design things called trains, which are rail-based transport devices from Earth. And, she’s working on powering them with raw mana, pumped from the Ley Lines.”
At that, Marley’s eyes went wide. “My word . . . if we could integrate a travel network across the kingdom, powered by raw mana and manatech? Then the distribution problem would be solved!” He then frowned. “But what about safety? Mana beasts would attack the vehicles, I’d imagine.”
“Well, the rail-laying crews would need protection while they did their job,” Eric said. “But as for the trains themselves? They just need a deterrent. Naomi is smart, you should talk to her about it. But, I’ll mention it to her.”
“Thank you for that.” He looked at Misty again. “Is he making you happy, darling?”
“Very much,” Misty replied. “Happiest woman in the world.”
Marley nodded. “Excellent. Then, if you excuse me, I have a class to finish.” The man dipped back into his lecture hall.
The servant escorted the duo back to the doorway, opened the umbrella, and then took the two to the carriage house, where a porter loaded Eric’s trunk, and a coachman prepared one of the carriages. Misty boarded with Eric, and the two were off to the Summoned estate.
Eric typed off a message to his allies.
[Heading back to the Summoned estate. Bring your spouses. We need to get bracers set up. We should acquire our new Classes soon. Everyone up for it?]
A few minutes of silence passed, and Eric just held Misty’s hand.
After they crossed the bridge and reached Tenebria proper, the affirming messages came through.
Back to reality, Eric thought.