Chapter 10: Chapter 9: What do You Want?

“I must say, sire,” said Relas, spearing a potato dripping in mint sauce, “this is spectacular.”

“Thank you,” I said.

“However, is it truly the place of a King to cook, like a servant?”

“The people don’t serve the ruler, Relas—the ruler serves the people.” I clamped my mouth shut. Where the hell had that come from?

“An interesting perspective,” he said, then returned to eating in silence. I thought I saw a smile from Hana, but it could have been a shadow.

Cannara, clearly already tipsy, went heavy on the wine, regaling us with tales of how she’d once exposed a noble’s corruption by trapping him into thinking she was a whore, before having him admit to his crimes in front of a crowded room. Impressed but terrified, I congratulated her, and her grin was positively voracious.

I pitied any man who fell for that trap.

From there, I tried to lead the conversation. Cannara’s story was known to me, and Shia was clumsy enough she’d tell the Gestapo where Anne was hiding, but one person seemed ridiculously hard to crack.

“So, Hana,” I said, “how does someone end up becoming the Arbiter?”

“I was trained for it from birth,” she replied, expressionless. “My mother was an Arbiter, and her mother before her.”

Combo breaker! Right there, a crack in the armour.

Time to pry.

“What was she like?” I asked. “Your mother?”

Pain painted her features, but it was gone in an instant. “She was a woman of honour. She loved me fiercely, and I loved her in return, even when she pushed me. Everything I know of my position, and the world, I learned from her.”

“A brilliant woman, Ingrid,” said Duke Kalvin. “A shame about what happened.”

My chest burned with curiosity. “What happened?”

A bloated hush shrouded the table, grimaces adorning the faces of both Hana and Duke Kalvin. Shia had looked uncomfortable the entire time, distant from the conversation, so her reaction was hard to discern.

Cannara, though, who as far as I knew had never interacted with Ingrid, had a more telling response. She clenched her fist and bit her lip, looking away. No-one else caught it. Making a note to question her later, I decided to change the subject.

“Shia,” I said, shocking my previously silent subordinate, “what exactly is a ‘Divine Grimoire’?”

Every other jaw plummeted, three pairs of wide eyes turning to stare at her.

“Don’t tell me,” said Duke Kalvin, “you’ve uncovered one of the Divine Relics?”

She stammered. “I—uh—no, of course not! That kind of finding would be excellent, so why would I fail to be ostentatious about it?”

The stares turned suspicious, and Duke Kalvin glanced at me questioningly.

Moisture fled my mouth. Evidently I’d hit on some big secret, judging from the glares she kept shooting when no-one else was looking. How to salvage this?

“Um…” I wracked my brain, the answer eluding me. “I… just, sort of heard about it somewhere? And I figured, ‘hey, that sounds magical’, so who better to ask than my court mage, right?” I chuckled nervously. Hana’s mouth was a line—she definitely didn’t believe me.

Relas, however, burst out laughing. “Oh, of course! How silly of me—our Shia’s never been able to keep a secret for the life of her.”

Shifting uncomfortably, Shia pouted.

“Allow me to explain,” Duke Kalvin continued. “In Sarabethia, by far the most prominent religion is the Church of the Eight Pillars. Each of these Pillars, as we refer to them, is one of the Gods involved in the inception of our world.

“When they left it to us, it is said that they also left behind eight Relics, items of great and divine power to allow humanity to overcome any threats that face us. As their existence is known to be fact, the Church has widespread support in its beliefs.”

I furrowed my brow. It was nice to know the local religion at least had a basis, but just because the items were powerful, didn’t mean they came from gods. However, one thing he’d said lodged in my mind.

“You said their existence is fact?”

“Indeed.” Hana cut in, wiping her lips with a handkerchief. “Only one is confirmed, though—the Storm Trident, relic of the God of Tempests, Ambisagrus.”

Ambisagrus? I swore I’d heard that somewhere before. Maybe it had been the tavern, or when we’d been among the people. Who knew?

“Then where is it now?” I asked.

“It belongs to Queen Misaki of Atlantea,” said Duke Kalvin. “Her great power and the usage of this Relic allowed her to subdue a clan of Sea Dragons, earning her the moniker of ‘Sea Dragon Empress’.”

Wait, Dragons were real? I mean, in a world of magic where at least one monarch had access to a mysterious System, maybe it wasn’t so far-fetched, but it still knocked me for a loop. Excitement bubbled in my stomach.

I wanted to see a Dragon!

Regardless, the rest of the information sent chills down my spine. If this Misaki was as powerful as Relas said, I’d have to be sure not to get on the wrong side of her. Images of a Dragon army wiping out my new home flitted across my psyche, and I shuddered.

“So what about the Grimoire, then?” I said.

“The Relic of Athena,” replied Duke Kalvin, “the Goddess of Knowledge.”

Internally, I kicked myself. I’d heard the name Ambisagrus from one of my university roommates, who’d been interested in Celtic pantheons. Athena was the Greek goddess of wisdom.

How did religion cross worlds?

I doubted I’d find an answer easily, so I shelved the problem as I took my last bite. In a flash, Shia stumbled over, snatching the plate from my hand.

“I’ll return the dinnerware,” she said.

You are reading story The Royal System: Ruler of the Poorest Kingdom at novel35.com

I snatched it back with a good-natured smirk. “No, thanks—I prefer my crockery in one piece.”

A chuckle ran around the table, except for Cannara, who was snoring and drooling on my lovely mahogany dining table.

“Of course!” roared Duke Kalvin, slapping his leg. “So uncoordinated even the King, who’s known you less than a week, understands! Let me tell you, when she was a young lass, she—”

“...me.” Next to me, Shia trembled, grinding her teeth.

Duke Kalvin halted, frowning as his gaze turned soft upon her. “Shia, are you all right, my sweet?”

I cocked my head at her.

She hefted up a plate and threw it on the floor. It shattered, the tinkling sound echoing through the room, and she sprinted away, leaving us all with hanging jaws and not a small amount of questions.

Well, that had been a roaring success.

***

My wanders through the palace had acquainted me somewhat with its layout, so I was efficient in my search. Duke Kalvin had offered, at first, but it seemed he’d been the root of the problem. Or at least part of it.

As always, Hana was glued to my side, and in the dim candlelight, I was grateful for her company. It was draughty, creepy, and smelled of dust.

Eventually, we found her in a disused drawing room—this had also been stripped of decoration, though the furniture, a few plush armchairs and solid tables, remained.

She sat in the darkest corner, her face buried in her knees, trembling as she sobbed.

Gingerly, I approached. “Shia?”

“Leave me alone.” Her muffled voice was shaky.

“Please reconsider your manner of address,” said Hana, her tone matter-of-fact.

I waved her down and crouched next to Shia, softening my expression and brushing her arm. Her gaze flicked up to me, her eyes red and puffy. Smiling softly, I rubbed her shoulder.

“You can talk to me,” I said. “What’s wrong?”

“I—” She sniffled, then looked down again. “It’s of no importance, sire.”

“Bullshit,” I said. “If it wasn’t important, you wouldn’t be reacting like this, would you?”

“It’s my father,” she moaned. “I understand that the encounter with Tenma emaciated his spirit, but that doesn’t change the fact he all but abandoned me and my mother. His only interest in me was in making me follow his path, to join the Army and fight, but when I wanted something different, he didn’t care.

“He sent me here, to become court mage for a lazy and hedonistic King, and forgot about me. Now he wants to act like nothing ever happened!”

I started. Honestly, I had no idea how to respond—families weren’t my strong point. So I went for a safe bet.

“Well,” I said, “what is it that you want?”

She hiccoughed. “I want… I want the entire kingdom, no, the entire world to understand who I am, rather than valuing me as the creation of my father’s loins!”

I had to suppress a laugh. It wasn’t a funny topic, but shit, the way she spoke could be ridiculous sometimes.

“I understand,” said Hana, shuffling over. “For a long time, I believed I would be defined by my relation to my mother. But we are not our parents, and you will see that. So will everybody else.”

“What she said.” I smiled, pushing a lock of hair behind her ear. “When you make a name for yourself, and you will, it’ll be your name, not your father’s.”

Sniffling again, she dried her eyes, leaning her face into my palm like a cat. My heart couldn’t help but melt.

“Thank you,” she said. “I’ll remember that.”

“Out of interest, sire,” said Hana, “what exactly is it that you want?”

“For you idiots to call me by name,” I grumbled.

“Noted,” she replied, “sire.”

“I’m not an idiot,” said Shia. “I’ve read every book in the Royal Academy’s library, and—”

“You realise,” I said, “I have no idea how many books that is?”

“It’s, well…” She scrunched her face, and if I’d looked closer, I probably would have seen smoke. “It’s a multitude!”

I blinked. “That’s really not helpful.”

“Hmph,” she said with a devious smirk, “and you called me the idiot.”

Facing Hana, I wondered what her reaction would be to that gem.

She was covering her ears.

I couldn’t help myself. I laughed. Then I stood, ready to retire for the night. Tomorrow would be a big day.

I planned to finally finish my first quest.