Jackal didn’t think much of his ruler. Sebastian kor Harvest wasn’t an impressive man. He wasn’t physically imposing, particularly intelligent, or especially charismatic. The best compliment someone could give him, both as a man and as a ruler, was that he was reasonable. Practical. A subtle tongue would call him cautious. An unkind one cowardly.
There would be no songs sung about him in two generations. History would remember his name, but his life would be contained to a single chapter, if that. But, he was the king. Jackal might not respect the man, but he certainly respected the authority he wielded.
Being invited into the king’s private study was an event he used to dream of. It should have heralded him reaching the pinnacle of life, but these weren’t ideal circumstances. Instead of being seated on the opposite side of the desk, holding a drink and smiling, he stood with a straight back and a neutral frown. He hadn’t been invited as a friend or even a potential friend. At best, he was a potential employee with a suspect past applying for a prestigious position.
Sebastian stared at him with his fingers laced atop his desk, his gaze showing none of the respect Jackal hoped he was conveying. The distinguished silver hair of the royal family was dulled by the gray of one getting on in years, giving the king an air that spoke more of exhaustion than experience.
It was wholly unexpected. Sebastian wasn’t even sixty. Far too young to be showing his age for the most powerful man in the country. A good melder could have him looking as if he was still in his thirties. Of course, such an act would be considered vain to the extreme and would have him denounced by the other nobles, but Jackal wouldn’t have let that stop him. They denounced the Guiness patriarch as well, but the man couldn’t hear the vicious mutterings from the top of his mountain of gold.
It wasn’t too late. Jackal imagined that Sebastian would wait for Dowager, the first prince to come of age before surrendering his crown and rejuvenating his body for his retirement, as it was rumored the previous king had done. With the aid of the physical affinity, a king could rule for a century, but none had worn the crown for more than a few decades since the time of the First King. When the kingdom was founded, a strong hand was needed to hold it together. The following years were peaceful. Harvest didn’t need a warrior but an administrator.
Bureaucracy was a boring goal to dedicate one’s life too. It wasn’t hard to imagine the appeal of wearing the crown fading to nothing after a single decade of shoveling the kingdom’s shit. History had shown that most kings were almost eager to shuck the responsibility. The few that weren’t didn’t last long for other reasons. The nobles didn’t appreciate a tyrant and few had the power to reign them in, like Harvest’s founder.
“The interrogators have finished questioning your son,” the king said in an even voice. “They found nothing regarding this cabal of summoners and the suspected drakkon.”
“That is relieving to hear though I never had any doubts.”
“Indeed, but it’s always best to be sure with these things.” The king leaned forward. “Which brings me to the young woman being detained in our dungeons.”
Jackal grit his teeth. He recognized that he might have acted hastily, not taking the time to ensure his house had no holes that needed to be plugged before running to the palace, but at the time, he didn’t think he had a moment to waste. More importantly, he couldn’t fathom a single thing that Jac would be desperate to hide. She was a store hand, for saints’ sake. The most dangerous information she should have access to was his drunken ramblings and the account books of the store whose shelves she stocked.
“Jacquelline has nothing to do with these summoners, I’m sure of it.”
“And yet, she is unwilling to be questioned by the interrogators. I’m not insensitive to how uncomfortable the mental affinity can be. It’s unnerving to know that someone can reach into your mind and ferry out your deepest secrets. And we all have secrets.”
Jackal discreetly swallowed as the king stared at him pointedly. He had also submitted to the hands of the interrogators. However, his mind was prepared by Fen. Any information he didn’t want getting into the king’s hands was shrouded in such a way to seem like hazy memory and he was careful that the answers he did give were the complete truth. As a result, no fault could be found in his testimony, but it seemed he wasn’t beyond suspicion. No one could be with succubi involved. It showed how deep a scar the Grimoire family had inflicted on the royal family.
“As a gentleman, I would like to leave the girl her privacy but if there is even the slightest chance she has information related to Luke Tome, then we need it. Harvest cannot afford to ignore the threat of a natural disaster like a drakkon. We are short on champions of Dunwayne’s caliber.”
“It is my belief that the contract failed. Such a large creature is not easy to hide. Your people have been searching for days and there has been no trace of it or my brother.” He had held off sharing his brother’s death. If one of the invisible members of the evil cabal was dead, the whole threat had a lot less impact. He needed the king jumping at shadows. The more afraid he was, the more he would appreciate Jackal.
“Don’t think I don’t value your opinion, Javarius. I’m inclined to agree. But we must be sure. With the goblinoids on our shores and the reports I’m getting from the north, we truly can’t afford another problem. My interrogators need to speak with your daughter.”
“I’ve spoken with her but the girl has always been stubborn and she’s made up her mind.”
“Thankfully, magic cares little for consent.”
Jackal’s eyes narrowed as he stared at the king’s impassive face. “What…are you saying?”
“The law allows the mental affinity to be used in the interrogation of criminals. It’s required for any statements made against nobility. Those suspected of crimes or civilians brought in for questioning have the right to refuse on pain of being detained indefinitely while the crown investigates through other means. This practice was put into place to assuage the worries of the people with silly delusions of men in dark hoods slipping through their windows and digging through their minds to find out where they keep their savings or share their weird kinks with their neighbors.”
From his tone, Jackal was sure the man would have rolled his eyes if he weren’t the king, his title forcing him to maintain a prim image. “A ridiculous notion. Mental casters are far too valuable to be wasted spying on peasants. Their abilities are also too valuable to be constrained by a warm blanket law to make people sleep better at night.”
“Can we speak plainly, Your Majesty? What is it you want?”
“What do I want? I want your cooperation, Javarius. More than anyone, you understand the seriousness of the situation. Your daughter will be questioned. I swear on the name of Harvest that she will not be harmed in any way and my people will stick to investigating connections to these summoners. However, I do not expect her to be quite as understanding.”
“You want me to soothe her?”
“No. You’ve said she’s too stubborn to be soothed by words. I will handle making amends. I will only need your assistance if she is not amenable to them.”
“…you mean, if she makes a formal complaint.” The king blatantly alluding to abusing the mental affinity to interrogate his daughter should have disturbed him more than it did. A part of him was frustrated by the situation. It reminded him too much of the Grimoires. However, there was nothing he could do about it. It wasn’t as if he could fight through the royal knights to free his daughter from the dungeon and hide her for the rest of her life.
No, there was nothing he could do. Just as there was nothing Jac could do but it wouldn’t be good for the crown if she walked the streets hollering about how the king had scooped out her secrets against her will. That was where Jackal came in, he supposed. No one would believe the girl if her own father denounced her.
“I…understand.”
For the first time, the king’s neutral mask cracked as an insincere smile turned up the corners of his lips. “I knew you would.” He stood from his chair and walked around his desk to clap Jackal on the shoulder. “The kingdom could use more men like you. Those who know their duty…and when to prioritize it. I respect that a lot.”
Jackal forced himself to smile back, knowing full well there was nothing respectable about what they were going to do.
Jackal didn’t think much of his ruler. Sebastian kor Harvest wasn’t an impressive man. He wasn’t physically imposing, particularly intelligent, or especially charismatic. The best compliment someone could give him, both as a man and as a ruler, was that he was reasonable. Practical. A subtle tongue would call him cautious. An unkind one cowardly.
There would be no songs sung about him in two generations. History would remember his name, but his life would be contained to a single chapter, if that. But, he was the king. Jackal might not respect the man, but he certainly respected the authority he wielded.
Being invited into the king’s private study was an event he used to dream of. It should have heralded him reaching the pinnacle of life, but these weren’t ideal circumstances. Instead of being seated on the opposite side of the desk, holding a drink and smiling, he stood with a straight back and a neutral frown. He hadn’t been invited as a friend or even a potential friend. At best, he was a potential employee with a suspect past applying for a prestigious position.
Sebastian stared at him with his fingers laced atop his desk, his gaze showing none of the respect Jackal hoped he was conveying. The distinguished silver hair of the royal family was dulled by the gray of one getting on in years, giving the king an air that spoke more of exhaustion than experience.
It was wholly unexpected. Sebastian wasn’t even sixty. Far too young to be showing his age for the most powerful man in the country. A good melder could have him looking as if he was still in his thirties. Of course, such an act would be considered vain to the extreme and would have him denounced by the other nobles, but Jackal wouldn’t have let that stop him. They denounced the Guiness patriarch as well, but the man couldn’t hear the vicious mutterings from the top of his mountain of gold.
It wasn’t too late. Jackal imagined that Sebastian would wait for Dowager, the first prince to come of age before surrendering his crown and rejuvenating his body for his retirement, as it was rumored the previous king had done. With the aid of the physical affinity, a king could rule for a century, but none had worn the crown for more than a few decades since the time of the First King. When the kingdom was founded, a strong hand was needed to hold it together. The following years were peaceful. Harvest didn’t need a warrior but an administrator.
Bureaucracy was a boring goal to dedicate one’s life too. It wasn’t hard to imagine the appeal of wearing the crown fading to nothing after a single decade of shoveling the kingdom’s shit. History had shown that most kings were almost eager to shuck the responsibility. The few that weren’t didn’t last long for other reasons. The nobles didn’t appreciate a tyrant and few had the power to reign them in, like Harvest’s founder.
“The interrogators have finished questioning your son,” the king said in an even voice. “They found nothing regarding this cabal of summoners and the suspected drakkon.”
“That is relieving to hear though I never had any doubts.”
“Indeed, but it’s always best to be sure with these things.” The king leaned forward. “Which brings me to the young woman being detained in our dungeons.”
Jackal grit his teeth. He recognized that he might have acted hastily, not taking the time to ensure his house had no holes that needed to be plugged before running to the palace, but at the time, he didn’t think he had a moment to waste. More importantly, he couldn’t fathom a single thing that Jac would be desperate to hide. She was a store hand, for saints’ sake. The most dangerous information she should have access to was his drunken ramblings and the account books of the store whose shelves she stocked.
“Jacquelline has nothing to do with these summoners, I’m sure of it.”
“And yet, she is unwilling to be questioned by the interrogators. I’m not insensitive to how uncomfortable the mental affinity can be. It’s unnerving to know that someone can reach into your mind and ferry out your deepest secrets. And we all have secrets.”
Jackal discreetly swallowed as the king stared at him pointedly. He had also submitted to the hands of the interrogators. However, his mind was prepared by Fen. Any information he didn’t want getting into the king’s hands was shrouded in such a way to seem like hazy memory and he was careful that the answers he did give were the complete truth. As a result, no fault could be found in his testimony, but it seemed he wasn’t beyond suspicion. No one could be with succubi involved. It showed how deep a scar the Grimoire family had inflicted on the royal family.
“As a gentleman, I would like to leave the girl her privacy but if there is even the slightest chance she has information related to Luke Tome, then we need it. Harvest cannot afford to ignore the threat of a natural disaster like a drakkon. We are short on champions of Dunwayne’s caliber.”
“It is my belief that the contract failed. Such a large creature is not easy to hide. Your people have been searching for days and there has been no trace of it or my brother.” He had held off sharing his brother’s death. If one of the invisible members of the evil cabal was dead, the whole threat had a lot less impact. He needed the king jumping at shadows. The more afraid he was, the more he would appreciate Jackal.
“Don’t think I don’t value your opinion, Javarius. I’m inclined to agree. But we must be sure. With the goblinoids on our shores and the reports I’m getting from the north, we truly can’t afford another problem. My interrogators need to speak with your daughter.”
“I’ve spoken with her but the girl has always been stubborn and she’s made up her mind.”
“Thankfully, magic cares little for consent.”
Jackal’s eyes narrowed as he stared at the king’s impassive face. “What…are you saying?”
“The law allows the mental affinity to be used in the interrogation of criminals. It’s required for any statements made against nobility. Those suspected of crimes or civilians brought in for questioning have the right to refuse on pain of being detained indefinitely while the crown investigates through other means. This practice was put into place to assuage the worries of the people with silly delusions of men in dark hoods slipping through their windows and digging through their minds to find out where they keep their savings or share their weird kinks with their neighbors.”
From his tone, Jackal was sure the man would have rolled his eyes if he weren’t the king, his title forcing him to maintain a prim image. “A ridiculous notion. Mental casters are far too valuable to be wasted spying on peasants. Their abilities are also too valuable to be constrained by a warm blanket law to make people sleep better at night.”
“Can we speak plainly, Your Majesty? What is it you want?”
“What do I want? I want your cooperation, Javarius. More than anyone, you understand the seriousness of the situation. Your daughter will be questioned. I swear on the name of Harvest that she will not be harmed in any way and my people will stick to investigating connections to these summoners. However, I do not expect her to be quite as understanding.”
“You want me to soothe her?”
“No. You’ve said she’s too stubborn to be soothed by words. I will handle making amends. I will only need your assistance if she is not amenable to them.”
“…you mean, if she makes a formal complaint.” The king blatantly alluding to abusing the mental affinity to interrogate his daughter should have disturbed him more than it did. A part of him was frustrated by the situation. It reminded him too much of the Grimoires. However, there was nothing he could do about it. It wasn’t as if he could fight through the royal knights to free his daughter from the dungeon and hide her for the rest of her life.
No, there was nothing he could do. Just as there was nothing Jac could do but it wouldn’t be good for the crown if she walked the streets hollering about how the king had scooped out her secrets against her will. That was where Jackal came in, he supposed. No one would believe the girl if her own father denounced her.
“I…understand.”
For the first time, the king’s neutral mask cracked as an insincere smile turned up the corners of his lips. “I knew you would.” He stood from his chair and walked around his desk to clap Jackal on the shoulder. “The kingdom could use more men like you. Those who know their duty…and when to prioritize it. I respect that a lot.”
Jackal forced himself to smile back, knowing full well there was nothing respectable about what they were going to do.
