As Eric walked down the halls, with James behind him, a curious thought entered his head. He glanced back and asked, “Your mother’s name is very similar to the names of dragons I read about in some books in the study at the estate. Why is that?”
James chuckled and shook his head. “My grandfather was obsessed with the creatures. I hear they’re all extinct now. Anyways, he named my mother after one in honor of it.” He put a finger to his temple and made a circular motion. “Grandfather claimed to have been visited by dragons in his dreams.”
Possibly true, Eric thought, if he was a high enough level, maybe he was talking to Indedroma.
[Oh, I had plenty of conversations with the man. He was quite a high level thanks to the amount of construction he participated in.]
Eric nodded. “Thanks for the information. Was just curious. Are you fascinated by the creatures as well?”
James shrugged. “They’re myths and legends. As far as I know, they don’t exist. Sure, they’re interesting creatures if the stories are true.”
Eric knew he had to play up his facet of not having foresight and experience of the world. He put on a slight frown. “That’s a shame. Being a dragon rider was a neat idea, but I guess that’ll never happen.”
James chuckled at that and gestured for Eric to face the front. “Right turn here, if memory serves.”
Eric led the way down the corridor to the small council chamber, and paused when he saw Seraphine d’Orveil outside of the main set of doors. She was waiting patiently, and once she saw Eric, she straightened ever-so-subtly. “Knight-errant,” she said. “May we have a word?”
Eric shrugged. “Why not?” He looked back at James. “See you inside.” The man slipped past Eric and went inside, and Eric joined Seraphine farther down the corridor. “I trust you are doing well?” he asked.
Seraphine’s perfect smile remained on, but he saw the hint of panic behind her eyes. “You are aware of my role in diplomacy, yes? Magistrate of Integration is a title that carries with it those duties. Recall that map I showed you when you first arrived.”
“I remember it well,” Eric replied.
“The Allied Cities of Chisholm are present, and will be escorted into the small council room shortly. But, they brought . . . unexpected additions: their Summoned. I believe it is because those Summoned expressed an interest in visiting foreign lands, but I don’t know why. Perhaps to speak with you Summoned from Trok?”
Fuck me, Eric thought. I wasn’t expecting to meet any other Summoned any time soon. This throws a massive wrench into my plans.
He had met them in the prior timeline when he visited the only remaining Summoned from the past era, during a diplomatic mission with the former Admiral. They were all from a version of Earth that had diverged from his Earth in a massive way—each one of them was from a post-apocalyptic world after a cybernetic revolution had destroyed much of what once was. While technology might have been around, these Summoned were closer in understanding to the residents of Elyndor.
Eric stared past Seraphine and stood stock-still for several seconds, holding his breath. Then, he took a deep breath and pretended to recover from one of his ‘micro-visions’.
Seraphine’s mask cracked and she hurriedly asked, “What did you see?”
“The parts of the world they come from,” Eric replied. “But they are not as smart as the Summoned here in Trok. They are all driven by desire to survive. Not necessarily greed, but security. I saw them being courted by dozens of city-states.”
Seraphine put her perfect mask back on. “Ah, well, I can work with that. If I got them into a separate room with you, could you convince them to stay here for a while?”
“I could,” Eric replied as he crossed his arms. “I know you are going to try and set up Xeraphine with one of them, not to mention it waters-down the prestige-pull that my fellow Trok-Summoned and I have if they stay for longer than a brief visit. What’s in this for me?”
“Of course you would think like that. It is why Xeraphine was falling for you, I suppose. As for the diplomatic fallout? Minimal. The Allied Cities might share a senate, but they do not always see eye-to-eye. As for what is in it for you? I am sure that seeing your fellow Earth-dwelling kin would be refreshing.”
“Not a lot of incentive,” Eric muttered as he looked back toward the council chamber doors, watching Bortis Faltear enter. He looked back to Seraphine. “My biggest concern is that old harms be put to rest. I know that my rejection of your younger sister’s hand in marriage, and putting my father-in-law into the position of Steward—those actions have set you against me. So in exchange for me convincing these other Summoned to consider staying for a while, thus giving Xeraphine the chance to court one . . . you will swear, and sign a contract via a Clerk, to not harm me, my allies, or my interests.”
Seraphine’s face tightened into a grimace. “I cannot forgive the injustice you inflicted upon me. After all I did for you, you spat in my face by rejecting my younger sister’s hand. It will be a cold day in the depths when you have my forgiveness . . . but, I would never wish ill-will against Trok, and you as her knight-errant are a powerful force within it. Very well, you have a deal—not my forgiveness though. Do not come to me asking for any favors.”
Eric smiled at that. “It is just a non-aggression pact, of sorts. Not a defensive alliance.”
She raised a brow and her lips returned to their normal, careful poise. “You speak with military terms now?”
“I am a knight-errant, like you said. I’ve been studying war just in case things go poorly. Acquire a Clerk or equivalent, and we’ll deal with this contract.”
Seraphine dipped her head, turned, and walked down the corridor. Eric headed to the small council doors and gave the queen’s guards a nod. They opened them, and Eric strode in. The Queen was already in her place, and she was reading a large sheaf of parchment. Persim was to her left, Eric’s empty seat was to her right, and all of the small council save for Seraphine had arrived.
He gave a little wave to Marley Baxter, the new Steward, and the man acknowledged it while he conversed with James, who was seated slightly behind him.
Eric went to his assigned seat and bowed to the Queen. “Your highness.”
Amber looked up from the parchment. “Good, you are here. Please, sit.” Eric did so, and she continued, “We are entertaining a very small delegation. I imagine that there will be some consternation directed your way.”
“I understand,” Eric replied.
“You may have also noticed James being invited. That is because I have chosen to expand out the small council. There will be a subordinate under each role. We are currently working on figuring out whom will fit which role in the best way possible.” She handed Eric the paper, and he looked over the list of new roles. Each role was offset by one column with their underling: minus Spymaster, which had none.
Queen
Knight-errant
Magistrate of Integration
Overseer of Ley Lines
Castellan
Master of Ceremonies
Spymaster
Admiral
Vice Admiral
General
Commandant
Chancellor
Master of Laws
Eric nodded. “Seems like a very fleshed-out list. What will each do?”
The Queen took back the paper. “Well, you as my knight-errant are to be my will manifest, as we had discussed. The Magistrate of Integration will remain as my premiere diplomat, but the Overseer of Ley Lines will be responsible for managing alliances. The Castellan will still manage the citadel, but I am expanding her role to overseeing the upper-city. The Master of Ceremonies will assist local leaders in the middle- and lower-city with management; so the title is meant more-so to endear the populace. The Vice Admiral and Commandant are going to be acting as direct subordinates to the Admiral and General, respectively. And lastly the Master of Laws is going to be working on codifying a new set of rules that will apply to all people, as I push toward a more egalitarian society.”
Eric was incredibly impressed with the decisions that Amber was making, and was very happy that she had turned out the way she did.
[I had a hand in nudging her decision making.]
Thanks for that, Eric thought. Keep guiding her on this path. An egalitarian society sounds ideal; even if there is some stratification of the civil structure. A true utopia will be impossible to achieve, but we can make Trok an incredible place to live. He internally frowned. One issue I had not thought to consider is my planned longevity, and how the people of Trok will see it.
[Eternal prophet-king is a play you could make. But, you will draw some very unwanted attention unless you depart at some point and fake your death.]
Eric didn’t like considering the implications of the future. I’ve got decades to figure all of that out. Perhaps confessing my plans to the Queen at a certain point in my future is the play to make. Regardless, it doesn’t change what we are doing here and now.
He said, “I think the expansion of the small council is a wonderful idea. But, why no-one under the Spymaster?”
Persim leaned forward and looked at Eric. “I have many subordinates, just not with names on the books. There is a role: Spymaster in training, but it is not official. If something were to happen to me, someone is ready to take their place.”
It dawned on Eric, then, and he said, “You want to avoid a situation like we have right now, where there is no Admiral.”
Amber looked at Persim. “I told you he would figure it out.” She then looked back at Eric with a little smile. “Yes, I want a secondary individual in place for every position, in case we have a repeat of what has happened previously.”
“Why not bind everyone with contracts?” Eric asked. “Since Clerks have that ability.”
Persim shook her head. “It hadn’t been done throughout Trok’s history, because it is seen as a gross invasion of autonomy to many.” She then looked at Amber. “For example, if the General has to sacrifice a squad to save a battalion, but he was bound to not harm Trok’s interests, then he could be blocked from doing so.”
“We just need a Lawyer to word it properly,” Eric said. “Or Solicitor. I don’t know what you call it here. Someone who crafts legalese language.”
Amber shook her head. “Those who are serving me have been subjected to Persim’s forced-truth Skill learned from our Flescion visitor. That is enough. I do not want those working for Trok to be prohibited from doing what must be done to keep its best interests at heart.”
“I see,” Eric said.
I think it is foolish, he added in his thoughts. I would at least bind every person to not harm me directly. Why does Amber not do that?
[I’ll put the thought in her head via a mana construct.]
I appreciate that.
Eric looked to the doors as there was a very loud, metal-shod knock. Then, they were opened, and Seraphine stepped through. “Announcing the eminent Senator Thomas Reconomus, and the Summoned of the Allied Cities of Chisholm.” She walked to her chair and took her seat, and Eric kept his eyes glued to the door as familiar faces filed in; all dressed in what he would consider courtly attire for the region—togas with sandals.
First was Thomas. Eric knew the man, his balding head, tall, portly figure, and eternal scowl from a battle scar that mangled his face. Despite his fierce appearance, the man was jovial and threw amazing parties: he was gregarious and the perfect face a person would want to have representing their interests.
I am surprised at only a single Senator, Eric thought. I would have imagined more would be present at a diplomatic meeting.
Next came the Summoned. Eric rifled through his Paths within to recall information about each. They all came from a post-apocalyptic, post-cyberpunk version of Earth where humanity had regressed to near-industrial levels of technology, a very stratified system, and those with the lingering remnants of technology and implants were the de-facto ruling caste.
Flint Grix was of similar build to Peter, but instead of an athletic build, was more like a bodybuilder. He had dark, brown skin and hair that was as black as pitch, cut short. Sharp, green eyes flickered around the chamber.
Right, Eric thought, He’s a Vanguard—Shield Bearer and Phalanx. I never got his levels, though. In fact, I only got one of their level spreads thanks to shared Classes and our deeper conversations. That’s my in.
Rex Shaw was slim, lanky, with black skin and blonde hair. He walked right behind Flint, and seemed to want to vanish into the larger man’s shadow—as if he had been forced to come to the meeting against his will, and just wanted to be elsewhere.
Their Reaper, Eric thought. But he’s scared of everything. He’ll be useless in any real conflict. No clue why he chose Slinger as his first Class. I don’t know if he even has another Class.
Next was Trixie Yez, a black-skinned woman with curly hair, cut to middling-length that cascaded around her head, and she kept brushing some bangs out of her eyes. She was fit, and her angular features of her face gave the appearance of ancient royalty from Egypt, matching up to descriptions of Cleopatra that Eric recalled from his middle-school history courses.
Coordinator and Commander: she is the brains of their group. If I get a chance to speak to them, I should focus my attention on her.
Last was the person who Eric was most familiar with; Cipher Seren. She also had deep, brown skin, with light-blue eyes, brown hair kept long but tied back in a high ponytail. As she looked around the room, her gaze landed on Eric, and a look of recognition flickered in those irises.
Uhm . . . Indedroma? I’m the only consciousness that you sent back, right? I have a weird feeling here.
[I am positive you are the only individual who came back from the now-extinct future timeline. Perhaps you are feeling deja vu?]
I hope so, Eric thought.
The Summoned each lined up in front of the small council table, and the chairs normally placed on that far side across from Eric were moved to the left and right. Thomas stood at the front and bowed in a way that was similar to the Elyndian bow Eric knew, but was subtly different, as the left hand was used to pull the toga away and reveal the side of the chest with the heart—a show of respect through vulnerability.
He stood up straight. “Queen Tremaunt, we thank you for this meeting. May I introduce those Summoned to the Allied Cities: Phalanx Grix, Sharpshooter Shaw, Commander Yez, and Barrier Mage Seren.”
The Summoned bowed at that, then straightened. Flint Grix looked like he was on-edge, ready to fight at a moment’s notice, while Rex Shaw shook a little bit—as if he were on a stage and experiencing the fright of his life. The two ladies seemed more relaxed, with Trixie Yez standing confidently after she straightened from the bow.
But Cipher Seren stared at Eric, and he could tell she knew something about him.
Queen Amber stood and bowed. “We thank you for your attendance. Please, feel free to sit.” She then clapped her hands, and as the Senator took a seat at a second table that had been set up, and directed his Summoned to their seats, servants came into the room with drinks and food. The Queen sat, and said, “Now then: to what do we owe this visit?”
The Senator chuckled. “You have caused quite a bit of a mess with some of the city-states. Most notably Tersirin, who you may have heard of for its infamous slave trade, and Helkino, which is infamous in its own right thanks to its pharmaceutical industry.”
Amber’s voice was cool and collected as she replied, “You mean those who were smuggling drugs and slaves into my borders?”
“Yes, regrettably so, but yes.” The Senator, Thomas, let out a dramatic, over-the-top sigh. “Whilst those in Virulon detest those trades, they do bring quite a bit of money into the region, and coin is king in our oligarchic council system.”
“You seek reparations?” Seraphine asked.
“No,” Thomas replied. “The senate is debating war.”
At that, Eric felt the tension in the room thicken.
After a few tense seconds, Thomas continued, “I do not wish it, and so an alternative has been proposed. Those responsible for the losses, your Summoned” —he pointed at Eric— “Especially you, knight-errant, have been asked to come to the senate chambers to face a tribunal. It would be a formality, as only two of the twenty city-states actually desire any type of retribution. An actual conflict would be bad for business.”
Amber frowned. “I agree, but I cannot send my Summoned away—”
“Hence why I brought these four,” Thomas said, gesturing to the Summoned he brought with a flourish of his arm. “They would be at your disposal during the interim of your Summoned’s absence.”
Amber shook her head. “It cannot be done. If you can arrange for a remote tribunal, then I will allow them to attend. If you wish, we can give you the Gear created by Judge Theresa Chajain, of Flescion, which contains her unblemished and pure recollection of the trial we had for our corrupt small council members.”
Thomas’ smile drooped a bit, and thanks to his prominent scar, it appeared that he was putting on a deep-set frown. “I would take that back to my fellows in the senate, if you like. Tersirin and Helkino would not be accepting of a remote attendance, as they would seek to harm those who harmed their interests during the visit.”
“Why tell us this?” Chancellor Bortis asked. “Surely you are tipping your hand here. I am curious as to why.”
Thomas let out a scoffing laugh. “Please, do not play dumb with me.”
Eric said, “Then allow me to ask, since I am the newest here and not familiar with your politics, although I can hazard a guess. I would assume that this Virulon is the heart of your Allied Cities, and the seat of your senate? And, where the Summoning Stone is located?”
At that, Eric saw Trixie and Cipher’s eyes narrow and knew the gears were working in their head as they evaluated him.
Thomas nodded. “Those are both accurate statements. I see that my reports about your intelligence were correct.”
Eric glanced at Amber as if requesting her go-ahead, and she gave a subtle nod for him to continue. He turned back to Thomas and said, “I assume, then, since your senate probably functions like the ones I learned about where I come from, that Tersirin and Helkino would attempt to get a senatorial vote for total warfare, and once that was denied and voted down, they would possibly attempt to go to war of their own volition?”
“That is accurate,” Thomas replied. “You’re sharp enough to be a diplomat, I’d wager, though I imagine that Magistra Seraphine d’Orveil would not appreciate being ousted.”
Eric glanced at the woman, and saw the flicker of annoyance cross her visage.
Seraphine replied in a polite voice, “Ah, well, he is in the small council already.” She clasped her hands and set them on the table. “Two city-states would not be a challenge to our military—”
Persim interrupted, and the Spymaster said, “They would be using covert tactics and operations, and attempt to goad us into a counter-strike.”
“Then if we did,” General Kristoff Iron-eye added, “there would be grounds for another vote to war, since Trok would be coming into your territory.”
“And thus you see the problem we face,” Thomas said. “A simple tribunal, or a possible covert war turned into a real one. No one wants that, but you are correct in your assumption of a secondary vote.”
Queen Amber tapped the table, and the ring on her finger made a loud clank noise. “You have given me much to think about. I will not send my Summoned and right-hand away to a tribunal where attempts on their lives will be committed.” She stood up. “You have my response. Take it as you will.”
Thomas stood up, and he sighed a deep, heavy exhalation. “Very well, your highness. I will convey your response. I would anticipate those two city-states taking action against you.”
Eric felt his earring from Persim vibrate, and surreptitiously poured mana into it. He heard her whisper, despite not being close enough at the table to hear the barely-uttered words. She said, “What do you think, given your foresight?”
“Hold off the conflict as much as possible,” Eric barely whispered back.
The Queen, replying to Thomas, said, “We shall be ready. I trust you will convey my sincerest wishes that we do not come to an armed conflict with your senate, and that the Gear with the record of the trial will be enough to demonstrate that the loss of those two cities’ goods and products were collateral damage in the effort to clean up corruption in my kingdom.”
“I will convey it as best I can,” Thomas replied.
Eric spoke aloud, asking, “Do you mind if I talk to the Summoned you have brought with you? It doesn’t have to be in here.”
“If I am present,” Thomas said. “Your highness, is there a conference room we may use?”
“Yes,” the Queen replied. “Seraphine, take them and attend as well.”
Seraphine shot Eric a glance and that little smile on her lips became a bit more authentic. “As you will, your majesty.” She stood up, and gestured for Eric to follow her.
Eric looked to the Queen. “By your leave?” She gave a curt nod, and he departed, following Seraphine, and was quickly followed by a queen’s guard, then Thomas and the Summoned from the Allied Cities of Chisholm. A squadron of escorts from that region—outfitted in lacquered adamant wood armor that was the equivalent of steel in hardness, with shields and spears of the same material—straightened as the group exited and followed Seraphine.
She led them to a conference room which was bare of anything save for the table and chairs. She gestured for people to sit, and Eric took a seat next to her.
Thomas and his Summoned sat down, and one of his escorts, and one of the queen’s guards entered, before the doors were shut. He reached into a pocket and produced a Silence Node. “If you don’t mind.”
“Not at all,” Seraphine replied.
The man set it on the table and his mana flared to life, covering the room in an orange glow. “There we are.”
Eric looked at Cipher Seren, the Barrier Mage, and asked her, “Why have you been staring at me like you know me?”
Her voice was calm, but carried a tint of hazardous curiosity. “I cannot help but feel that I’ve met you before.”
“I just have one of those faces,” Eric replied. “I’ve been told it is punchable, too.”
Flint Grix, the Phalanx, voice coarse like that of a smoker, asked, “What did you want to talk about?”
Eric looked at Seraphine, and at her subtle nod of approval for show, looked at the others. “I wanted to see if you would be willing to stay for a few days. To converse, share experiences, and the like.”
As he said that, a look of happiness took over Rex Shaw’s face, and the thin, lanky man said, “Yes! I’ve been on a boat for weeks!” He looked at Thomas and tapped his hand. “Please? Can we please stay for a bit? I don’t want to go back to a long boat ride after just getting to the capital of another city!”
Thomas chuckled. “I suppose if her highness can accommodate us, then we can stay for a visit.” He looked at Eric. “I don’t hold anything against you, by the way. Corruption in the ruling caste should be cut out. But, business is business, and when two city-states have their major economic engines challenged, they cannot take it standing down.”
Trixie Yez, the Commander, looked at Thomas and said, “What if we tried to do something about those two city-states? Civil war, with Trok’s aid?” She gestured between her and the other Summoned from the Allied City-States. “We all dislike slavery, and the drugs have done some fucked up things.”
Thomas’ face darkened into a true, deep scowl that was made all the more menacing with his scar. “You shouldn’t speak of such things in the presence of other regional representatives, Trixie.”
“Why not?” Cipher asked. “None of us want to be pawns of the senate. What’s to stop us from asking for sanctuary here?” She looked at Eric, and there was a pleading tone in her voice as she said. “Right now, we are practically your slaves. Treated well, but we aren’t given freedom to do what we want.”
Thomas’ voice boiled over to rage and he shouted, “You were Summoned to Virulon, and that is where you will stay! Do not forget your place, plebian!”
Eric really didn’t want to spark a diplomatic incident, but other Summoned could play well into his plans. If he had them on his side, in Trok, supporting and fortifying it, then they could be an incredible asset. But, they were also a new factor he would have to consider. If he helped them escape their current state, then they would be thankful, but confrontation with the Allied Cities would be inevitable instead of a remote possibility. Not to mention he had no clue how they would interact things in Trok itself. As much as it pained him to not help someone in dire circumstances, he couldn’t take the risk.
At least, not immediately. He reached into his grimoire, ripped out a page, and then tapped Seraphine’s arm. “Pen?”
She produced one for him while Thomas and his Summoned were arguing amongst themselves—the Summoned expressing desire to leave the Allied Cities to make their own way in the world, and the Senator reminding them of what they owed Virulon, the ‘capital’ of the region where the senate chambers were located.
Eric wrote, willed the words to be in Cybrexil—the written language of their version of Earth, which he had figured out was a mix of English and Spanish that had just merged and added techno-slang terms over centuries—and slid the paper over to Trixie. She grabbed it before Thomas could intercept it. She read over it, nodded curtly, then handed it to Cipher.
“Now hold on,” Thomas said, voice still filled with frustration and anger, but becoming more subdued. “What is that?”
Eric looked at the man. “Just words of encouragement.”
What he had written down was a plan. Flint, Rex, Trixie, and Cipher could stay for a day or two, then would need to depart. He advised the other Summoned to wait until an opportune moment to then flee the Allied Cities. Once they escaped, then he would help them get to Tenebria. But, they would have to take on new identities once they vanished. He also included an explanation of the Disguise Brush, how to use it, and its limitations—as he intended to slip it to them to aid their escape.
What he excluded was that he knew that they would be heavily guarded while in Trok, and that Xeraphine d’Orveil would sneak in and try to seduce Flint or Rex. Eric knew that Seraphine wanted a Summoned in the family for prestige-pull alone that would open doors.
She will probably fall for Flint, Eric thought. He’s not as smart as me, but she will look past the brains and instead see him for his political value. And, he’s the type of muscular man she appreciates.
Eric knew that once Xeraphine had seduced Flint, the man would do anything to escape. It would eventually lead to conflict, but not for a good, long while—long enough for Eric and his allies to finish the Twilight Depths. Then, if conflict did arrive, they would have the perfect reason to go to the Allied Cities, destroy the city-states seeking Trok’s downfall, and then go to the capital where they could tackle that mega-dungeon.
Once Cipher had read it, she handed it to Rex, and then from him to Flint. The only part of the plan that Eric had omitted in the note itself was that Xeraphine would try to seduce one of the two men of the party. Everything else was straightforward, and he opened his Storage Dimension, reached his hand down below the table where he had opened the aperture, and removed the Disguise Brush.
“Interesting,” Flint said as he slid the paper toward Eric.
But Thomas grabbed it before it had left Flint’s hand and tried to read it. “This is gibberish,” the Senator said. He looked at Eric. “What does it say?”
Eric lied and said, “It is just words of encouragement and hope, along with an offer to come visit them once diplomatic tensions die down.”
“Why not say it aloud?” Thomas asked, exasperated.
“You don’t know the language of our home world,” Eric replied, leaving out the fact that multiple Earths existed. “There are words and phrases that only really come across in Cybrexil. I doubt that they would make much sense aloud. For example, I’ll try to speak in that language, but the Summon Stone’s effects on us will make it sound different.” He shot a glance at each of the other Summoned to play along as he lied and made up random gibberish in a nonsensical sentence. “The best way to skin a cat is with the claw of an augmented enforcer.”
Cipher immediately replied, as if in common parlance, “But not when the enforcer has milk in his circuits.”
Thomas looked confused at that, and Seraphine shook her head. “Just let it go, Senator,” she said. “I’ve been hearing this type of nonsense for weeks.”
Thanks for playing along, Eric thought.
Thomas set the note down and slid it back to Eric, but he had that scowl still set on his face. He was about to speak, but Cipher interrupted. “We’ll go back to Virulon,” she said with defeat. “Just let us stay a day or two to . . . vacation.”
Thomas’ scowl tightened to a diplomatic smile. “Very well. But, you will be accompanied at all times by our escort, and we are staying in the same section of the citadel.” He looked at Seraphine. “That can be sorted, I trust?”
“Yes,” Seraphine replied. “If you like, I can show you to your chambers.”
“That would be best,” Thomas replied as he shot a glare at Rex, who looked to be the weakest willed of the other Summoned. “And we have some talking to do.” The man grabbed his Silence Node and stood up.
Eric used his right hand to grab the slip of paper, pocketed it, and then palmed the Disguise Brush and a fistful of scrip. Not for the first time, he was quite appreciative of his time spent in the Shimmersand Caravan, where he socialized with Jugglers and Courtesans. Slipping the Gear up his sleeve, the moment went to follow Cipher out of the room, he was able to slip the device into her open hand. She grabbed it and moved it to her bosom, hiding it in the undergarment beneath the toga.
And there’s fifty silver and three-hundred copper in scrip to help them on their way, Eric thought. Plus with the Disguise Brush, they can just go into their mega dungeon, come out as new people, and leave. We keep our hands clean . . . at least until Xeraphine goes public with whoever she courts and manages to snare with marriage.
Seraphine led the way to some chambers across the citadel, and once the Allied Cities of Chisholm representative and their Summoned were sequestered away with their escorts, she waved for Eric to follow her. He did so, and they went to her office, where she shut the door. “Silence Node?” she asked.
Eric produced his and activated it. “Why don’t you have one?”
“I do,” she replied. “Just not on me. Now, what did you tell them?”
Eric shared the contents of the note before burning it with a burst of Blackflame, and didn’t leave out his theorizing of what Xeraphine would be up to.
Seraphine’s perfect smile of politeness became a bit more authentic. She said, “You truly do care about Xeraphine, don’t you?”
“I do,” Eric replied. “Just because I chose Misty doesn’t mean that I did not enjoy Xera’s company or companionship. I . . . I had to choose for my future, and with the other Summoned going with other old-blood families, it just made sense.” He sighed and leaned against the shut door behind him. “I want Xera to be happy, and if her snaring the heart of a Summoned is part of that, then I’ll do what I can to assist.”
Seraphine dipped her head in appreciation. “Thank you, Eric. Oh, that Clerk you mentioned is available if we want to deal with that non-aggression pact you mentioned.”
Eric sat down. “Sure, bring them in.”