Chapter 50: Any P is a Target

When Kalender, Page, and Georgie came downstairs, however…

“Oh? Lord Shal-yen was called back to the castle on urgent business,” Amanda said.

***

Shal-yen pushed down thoughts of regret.

I shouldn’t have killed that Lord.

Of course, if he hadn’t, Stylus House wouldn’t exist today, and his mother wouldn’t be enjoying her hobbies. Overall, he didn’t actually regret it, but…

Still, what a pain.

One of the quirks of the Lyrican legal system was that it was totally okay for anyone to execute a noble, provided, in the first place, they even could. The proceedings afterwards, however, would then establish whether or not the executioner had just cause to do so, and depending on a hundred different little things, there were a handful of likely conclusions for the perpetrator.

Execution was one. A slower execution was another. A social execution was another option for those of status. Being impressed into a penal regiment was essentially a death sentence, as well.

For Shal-yen, however, he was sentenced with the collar of “Lord” for 200 years. He was just halfway there. Damn it. He just wanted to be a simple craftsman!

The concept of indentured administration terrified him, and he was experiencing it day-by-day. Who thought of this? He wasn’t even the only one—less so the first, least so the last. To his fellow anonymous bureaucrats, he could only pray for their souls to find reprieve at the end of it all.

Ah, well, on one hand, he was a Lord, but not just any Lord; he was the Lord of Harmony. This little corner of Lyrica was the triple point of three nations: Lyrica itself, Icasius-Artemia, and Deramin. If a war were to spark, it would be hottest here, where any army—or a well-positioned Heroic band—would be able to put all three nations in check at the same time. He had the trust of the royal throne to defend this border, and with that trust, the power to override command of any military unit that stepped on his soil. He ranked effectively equally to a duke, even if just in clout, and not really the same rights and privileges.

On the other hand, he was now obligated to receive every single darned noble who visited. He’d rather be doing anything at all! Lucky for him, most of them were just weirdos curious about the place. It was enough to smile and foist the work of giving them accommodations onto the nearest servant.

Today, however—Gah! Why is she coming here!

***

A carriage slowed to a halt in front of the castle. It was this black thing with steel wheels, impossible to dislodge from their axles. Guards in black robes, like death riders in midday, accompanied it from all sides. The silhouettes of their lances, pointed skywards, looked like scythes what with pointed ribbons fluttering from each of them. Spots of galvanic patina could be seen whenever their robes moved aside just the right way, but caution must be taken not to catch a glimpse of their eyes.

Though the carriage was clad in black, a closer look reveals thin, gold lines that traced a hidden motif of the seal of the royal family. The castle’s gate opened for them, and the carriage and its guards disappeared inside.

Shal-yen kept up a sweaty smile as the carriage door lined up in front of him. It opened, and a white dress fluttered as a youthful lady stepped out with all the grace of royalty and the damnest, conniving smile that he wished he didn’t have to see today. Not even her golden hair, as golden as the sparkling accents of her dress, nor the way she bounced on her feet with little harshness, as if she were gliding across the stone, could distract him from the true blackness of the shadow of her personality.

He bowed. “Harmony humbly welcomes you, Princess Knight, Arpeggio Selisie.”

“Oh Lord Shal-yen, why so distant?” she replied in a voice so soothing it would kill a man and destroy his marriage—any man except Shal-yen. In his mind, distance was the only answer to her.

Regardless, duty was duty, no matter how begrudging. After going through all the niceties, he brought the conversation to a private receiving room. It was spacious, had tall windows for the light to come in, and was filled with neat bookshelves lining all sides. After the tea had arrived, and the servants had gone, Arpeggio dropped the act.

Shal-yen kept up a sweaty smile, as Arpeggio’s changed to one more tired.

“I don’t want to be here, either,” she said.

Shal-yen was surprised. She should be dropping two metric tons of responsibility on him before sprinting five kilometers deep into the Monster Wall without escort!—for the escorts’ safety, she’d oft claim.

“So, why are you here?” he asked, honestly more perplexed now, with just a hint of relief.

“It’s about the Harem Priest and Love Priestess.”

Ah. Them. They were set to duel again later this afternoon.

“Are you aware of the throne’s obligations towards the priesthoods?” Arpeggio asked.

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“I’m just a craftsman behind a desk.”

“I wonder, have you been saying that for a hundred years by now?”

The princess grinned, incurring Shal-yen’s displeasure and a sigh.

“That aside,” she said, “we consider it important that the Last Priest of the Harem God not be killed off. I will be officiating their duels and mediating between them until they stop actively trying to commit theocide.”

She stood up with a wide grin. Shal-yen braced himself.

“Meanwhile, I shall be exploring the town! Things seem to have moved around quite a bit since I’ve last taken a stroll…”

Her voice trailed off as she opened the nearest window and jumped out. Shal-yen let out a sigh of relief. Oh, good, she’s staying inside the town. Arpeggio was a princess of her word, and so he was confident that she would really only stay within town limits. It could’ve been worse.

Wait. We’re on the fourth floor.

He jumped to the window, nearly jumping out, himself. To his relief, there was neither a blood splat nor concentric rings of broken pavement below. Just how the girl had managed to learn how to land without biting off a chunk of the castle’s maintenance budget this time lent him a seed of confidence, that maybe, just maybe, Arpeggio actually had a concept of empathy.

***

Two shadows materialized in the corner of a run-down shack in some shady part of town. The “manager” nearly fell off his seat, but recognized the two men.

“Geez! I nearly killed one of you!” the manager complained. He was a young man with a sword halfway drawn, one which he sheathed back into place. He had a robust jawline, and his well-built arms were nothing to scoff at. Any woman looking to settle with an 8/10 in looks but a 10/10 in reliability wouldn’t hesitate with this one.

“It’s an emergency,” one of the shadows said, while the other one hurried down a staircase, into another part of the base. The first one continued, “Princess Arpeggio has been sighted wandering the town.”

The manager grinned. First, a Priestess of Love, and now, the Princess Knight herself! Ah, but there was an issue here. They had only mustered enough forces to take the Priestess of Love. The Priestess was a fierce fighter in her own right, but that only made her all the more a juicy target.

The Princess Knight, however, was a different story. She was fully capable of murdering the entire strike force thrice over, and that’s only with her feet—goddesses below forbid if she threw hands. Some say you should just give up if she used a pen.

It didn’t take fifteen minutes for all of the highest-ranking officers of the strike force to convene. The meeting location was humid, damp, and there was a mushroom growing out of the wall just over the manager’s shoulder. That’s what they got for going for digging out secret rooms underground.

Regardless, they all looked at each other from all around the round table. There were four of them, including the manager. The others were older men—the burly types: a bald one with a scar across his eye; another with white hair in a crew cut and a golden tooth; the last with long, amber hair, and the left half of his mouth in a permanent frown below his blindfold.

Manager, Scar, Goldtooth, and Frown. They were the elite members handpicked for this operation.

“We must capture the Love Priestess first. I can use her to capture the Priestesses on Temple Hill, then I can turn their blades against the Princess,” Manager said.

“How?” Scar asked. “I do not doubt that we can capture the Love Priestess. If speed is of the essence, I will even do it personally, but the Harem Priest is here. His Harem Senses will find you, eventually, and then I will have to fight him, too. The ruckus is sure to alert the Princess.”

Goldtooth chuckled, his voice low and confident. “Then shan’t we separate them? Lure the Harem Priest to the farthest edges of town, or beyond, if we can manage it. Then, lure the Princess to the opposite side. This way, news will take the longest time to reach her, and we will have more time to secure more forces.”

“Why not just kill him?” Frown said. “I witnessed his duel with the Love Priestess yesterday. The Priestess is as competent as I thought, but now that we know the two are evenly matched, we also know that I can kill him, just as well. No one will miss the Last Priest of the Harem God, not when the bees will be buzzing louder about the Princess caught in our net.”

His eyes met with the others’. No one objected.

“Kill the competition, get the Priestess, siege the hill, get more Priestesses, lure in the Princess,” Manager recounted. Everyone nodded. It was a simple plan—so simple, in fact, that it was difficult for them to imagine just how it could go wrong. They’ve even accounted for the pervasive presence of the Inquisition, eluding its agents, and they had almost perfect information on each of their targets. Even if elite reinforcements arrived, their own forces could meet them on equal grounds. They did, after all, come with three times the amount of force necessary to capture the Priestess of Love.

Unless they were met by a second Princess Knight, there were no mortal means to stop their plans. For now, they would gather the necessary intelligence, study their prey, and diligently lay their many, many traps—just in case.