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[LitF] 41. Fast and Furious
🕑 Added 2023-07-29 20:55:21 +0000 UTCPrevious Chapter - Table of Contents - Next Chapter
[A/N: I hate to spoil things, but content warning: sexy times. Nothing explicit; nothing is actually described. The way the mood is set is conveyed, but all details end at the first kiss. Still, be advised.]
Rock'n'roll blasted from the Kayant Bello Deluxe speakers as Sophie cruised the highway. She had four thousand points of agility and liked moving fast. Many of her overtakes were illegal—but not dangerous, considering her training and a thousand points of perception and wisdom.
She just kept going with a big smile on her face and not a care in the world.
The only reason she wasn't happier was that they had been forced to close the roof and windows after Mr. Mustache tried to jump away. With the car's speeds, the cat would've become a bloody blob on the road. She missed the wind on her hair, but the blasting songs in the enclosed space nearly made up for it.
Arthur paid some attention to his surroundings just in case, but most of his focus was on the books he was reading. Tamara had bought most of what he had asked her to.
The prince found the world's geopolitical, economic, and cultural history a crazy mess. Numerous entities had attempted to use stupid ideas as excuses to kill others throughout the centuries, and many such individuals and groups had the potential to kill millions before they were stopped. It went from localized wars that threatened to spread to countless countries and envelope the globe to revolutions that sought to install a regimen worse than an absolute monarch's maddened tyranny. Fortunately, the League had intervened.
Most impressively, it had also kept the unawakened from researching and developing a sort of super bomb that might destroy the world if used enough times.
Nonetheless, most books portrayed the League as unreasonable and despotic. The authors seldom stated it outright, but they constantly presented different organizations or sociopolitical structures under a glowing light, then proceeded to enumerate the League's pros, which were always fewer and not well explored. On top of that, all of the League's decisions were questioned; even when they saved lives, it was pointed out how they could've done things better. Any reader concluded the League didn't deserve the power it held.
A few books claimed to be more unbiased than others but were more of the same or outright League propaganda. Many "facts" were contradicted in different publications, even by people on the same side. Anyone could find a cause to resent the League, even if the reason was fabricated.
The disinformation campaign was methodical and expertly handled.
The prince had to read between the lines to draw something akin to the truth. He concluded that Howard, despite supporting the League, had been as brainwashed by anti-League propaganda as the rest of the world seemed to be. Things were dire but not as terrible as he had made it out to be.
Arthur found multiple signs of the shift in status quo not being as extreme as Howard had portrayed. Even in the books about recent history, the League was depicted as powerful, and its decisions were heeded no matter how upset they made people.
Howard's general idea was correct: the League had weakened, and the unawakened were growing stronger. That was evident in how the League stopped pressing on many fronts it used to be firm about and how it conferred with unawakened leaders before resorting to force. However, it still had considerable pull, as seen by: how they just came to North Lake City and did whatever they wanted; kept the Awakener Emergency Act that any awakener could trigger in effect; the respect Arthur had gained in the bank; and how Sophie could drive with only a League ID.
Not that the LID put her above the law if the police siren competing with the music was any indication.
"You really should stop, Soph," Arthur said absentmindedly.
"No way!" she yelled excitedly. "This is fun! And you agreed! Shush, now, I love this part." Then, she sang with the LP player using the full power of her lungs, "Booooorn to be wild..."
The prince sighed and kept reading.
The issue here was that the local laws were too bland. Tamara was also reading some books, starting on the country's traffic laws, then the constitution, and revealed Sophie wouldn't go to jail for trying to escape as long as she caused no accident.
Thus, the bloodsinger had decided a police chase was just what she needed to decompress after the two days in North Lake City.
Arthur disapproved of it but reckoned she did need a distraction. The police car was within his domain range, and he could act if something went wrong. Keeping them close was his condition for not annoying her with a speech about awakener responsibility. Sophie didn't strictly stick to the agreement; she kept getting away from the police, then letting them get close again. But she only rushed ahead when the road was straight and there were few to no cars in sight, so he didn't make a deal out of it.
When the police first appeared half an hour ago, the prince had discussed with himself how long it was acceptable to keep the law enforcers away from more important business. He had decided this was on them. They were the ones insisting on pursuing a faster car driven by someone more skilled than them. Sophie had proved enough times that she wouldn't cause an accident or that if she was going to do it, their presence wouldn't change anything.
The two police officers in the official black and white vehicle were comprehensively upset. Sophie didn't even hide she was messing with them. Once, when Sophie had let them get close enough, one of them pointed his gun at the Bello while shouting for Sophie to pull over. Tamara had claimed it to be an empty threat, according to the local laws, and she had been right.
That had only emboldened Arthur's suitress.
Alas, the time came for the fun to end. Mr. Mustache started meowing, and the prince translated it to Sophie from what he felt in the cat, "He wants to empty his bladder."
Sophie went through various emotions, from surprise to sadness, denial to anger, and settled on resoluteness.
She slowed down, pulled over, turned the LP player off, and opened her window.
This specific patch of land was a hill chain. It was primarily green and uninhibited. Mr. Mustache left the car as soon as Tamara, who was riding behind Arthur, opened the back window. The prince would keep an eye on him with his domain.
The policemen almost didn't believe what they saw. Their sense of accomplishment was buried under suspicions and foreboding. Still, they parked their car, left it, and approached the Bello, their hands on their handgun holsters. They sauntered with swag, looking down at every inch of the car, unwilling to let their anxiety show.
The two wore greenish-brown uniforms with nametags and campaign hats. Sergeant Doyle, a middle-aged, fat, bald man, sported a massive mustache. Deputy Stone, a woman in her early thirties, was short and bulky and wore her red hair in a bun, which she kept under her hat.
Stone had been the one to point a gun at the Bello and the angriest of the two. She took the speaker role, crouching by Sophie's window. When she saw how beautiful Sophie and Arthur were, she grew absurdly jealous and became downright furious.
The four people in the car had long reverted to their light traveler attire. The sergeant frowned when he saw Graham in leather armor and some of the sheathed blades, but the deputy was blind to everything. Her eyes were locked on the two people in the front seats—specifically, their faces. She didn't even notice Arthur's words or the dagger Sophie wore on her waist.
Deputy Stone's first words were, "Finally got afraid of running your fancy little toy into a mountain, eh, daddy girl?" She then spat to the side and rested her arms on the window.
Mentioning Sophie's father was not the right move. Her excellent mood instantly soured, morphing into cold anger. Arthur had never seen such an instantaneous mood change in anyone.
The reaction only made the deputy smile sadistically. "Or are you his daddy's girl?" She nodded to Arthur. "Don't worry, you won't have to sell your pretty face to pay for any tickets." If she expected gratitude or a reaction, she got none. "Do you know why?" Sophie still kept silent, and Stone smiled wide. "I'll stuff all your holes with so many fucking tickets you'll spend months digging them out, bitch." She pulled back from the window and knocked on the Bello's roof twice. "License and registration, then get out of the vehicle." She spat on the ground again, laid her back on the back seat's door, and crossed her arms and legs.
Sophie clenched the steering wheel so hard it bent.
Arthur lightly patted her arm and stepped out. "The next time you call my suitress a prostitute will be your last, Deputy Stone."
The prince was also having a hard time controlling himself. He wanted to punish them for the insult at once. He wouldn't kill Stone, but if her tongue was this useless, she could do without it for a few weeks. Regrettably, Stone was unawakened and didn't know she was dealing with awakeners, so he was obligated by League law and good customs to warn the suicidal fool before acting.
Stone's anger had decreased after she abused her power, but his words reversed the process. She turned to look at Arthur with a frown and pursed lips. "Are you threatening me, pretty boy?"
Arthur put his hand in his pocket. The two officers got scared and tried to react by pulling their guns, only to find them firmly stuck in place. The prince threw his LID on top of the Bello's retractable roof.
"I'm just informing you of your impending doom," Arthur corrected.
"Heed the storm of eons, for it comes," Tamara suddenly said in a somber voice. "So swears the old soothsayer; so foretells the panicked birds on the skies. Seek cover, for death approaches; uncaring and unbending, it upends all lies. To Fate, I pray: may I notice the signs and kiss my lover one last time. All we can do is embrace each other on that last cold night. Heed the storm of eons, I tell you; no one can run after it arrives."
Everyone looked at her, and she smiled like a predator. "Hadok."
Arthur recalled the poet Jorge had mentioned. This... Was it even a poem? This thing was much darker than the one about North Lake City being a pearl.
The maid's meaning was obvious: storms were forces of nature. You could ready yourself for their arrival, but if you didn't notice the signs and were caught unprepared, you could only hope you survived.
The quote, or maybe its unexpected delivery, worked wonders to give the police pause. Their inability to unholster their guns added to their confusion. The two frowned deeper, but while Stone just stood there, incapable of making sense of the situation, Doyle approached and grabbed the LID.
He paled so much that he became whiter than white.
The sergeant opened his mouth to say something, thought better of it, then just silently threw the LID back on the roof, grabbed Stone's arm, and pulled her back into the car. She reacted to that.
"What are you doing?" she tried to untangle from his grip, but he held her firmly.
"Come with me right now, Deputy," Stone said firmly. "And keep quiet. This is an order."
That surprised her even more. "Saul?" she asked hesitantly and let herself be pulled.
The sergeant said nothing. He pushed her into the passenger seat, entered the driver seat, and drove away.
The four awakeners just looked at it silently for a moment. Then, Arthur sighed, grabbed his LID, and returned to his seat.
"Smart man," Tamara assessed.
Arthur shook his head. "It would've been smarter of him to trust his instincts when he noticed Graham's armor."
He looked at Sophie. She had twisted the steering wheel and wasn't looking any better now that the police were gone. In fact, it was the opposite. While her anger had dissipated, her self-esteem issues had mercilessly replaced it.
She turned to Arthur and said weakly, "I'm... She was right, wasn't she? I'm just a parasite. A spoiled leech. My power, my car, everything I have was handed to me on a silver plate. Those two were just doing their job, and I made it harder on them for no reason. Just because I could. Because I don't care about others. Because I'm a spoiled bitch. You even threatened her for me, and she was just a little upset—rightfully so."
The prince could answer that in multiple ways. Considering Sophie's state, he chose a more emotional argument. She needed support, not a logical discussion. She knew better than that already; she just didn't "believe better" at the moment.
"If there's a parasite here," he said, "that would be me. No, I'm worse than that. I'm a monster. I gained everything you did and more. Two people had to give up everything they knew and loved to train me. A young girl was ruthlessly taken from her family and home to be my emotional support."
Sophie's eyes widened in panic. "That's not your fault!"
Arthur continued, "Everyone the little girl knows is connected to me. Those people would leave her if I ordered. One could rightfully say I have too much power over her. She's emotionally dependent on me. She can't make a rational decision about anything connected to me. That didn't stop me from using her to my benefit, did it? From tying her to me. From planning to use her body for my personal pleasure."
"Archie..." she pleaded. She was worried he was going to a dark place again. "I... I was just joking, alright? Nevermind that. Please? Can we just turn on the music and keep going? Please? For me?"
Her reaction now showed how much she put him before herself. He had made her problems about him to manipulate her into temporarily forgetting her worries.
The prince gently grabbed her hands and sighed. "I'm just saying I get you, Soph. We were trained to know better, but we feel what we feel, and we act on it even when we know we shouldn't. You know you're an awesome woman, but you feel worthless. I know pursuing a relationship with someone I have so much power over is not gentlemanly, but I don't want to stop myself. We know our feelings blossomed partly because there was no feasible alternative, that we're both more emotionally dependent on each other than it's healthy, but we do it anyway. Our life was a mess, and we continue to be affected by our parents' choices."
He smiled sadly. "There's nothing we can do about our past. You said it yourself: we're victims. We can only do our best with what we were given and focus on the future." He chuckled. "We'll keep making mistakes, too. Yes, you behaved impulsively and made the two unawakened lives needlessly difficult. But if you ask me, that... I believe the swear word they use nowadays would be cunt. That cunt deserved it."
His words didn't all make sense. He and Sophie were doing as the king willed, which meant they weren't victims. That's just how things worked in an absolute monarchy. One could also argue that the policewoman had only acted like that because they had provoked her first—and one could counter-argue that she was paid to behave better regardless.
But his statement also suited this moment. This wasn't about the mind; it was about the heart. He saw the logical issues, but that's how he felt. He had been trained to become king and understood his responsibility to use reason, not emotions, to make decisions. The training fell short when it came to Sophie.
Sharing his thoughts with her and comforting her made him feel better, and that's all that mattered right here, right now.
They wordlessly looked into each other's eyes until Tamara broke the silence.
"The heart wants what it wants," she said.
Arthur found that profoundly true despite how shallow it sounded at first glance. "Hadok?" he asked.
The maid chuckled. "Not as far as I know, master. I heard it in a song in a bookstore. It was about love, and it fits your situation, but I found it encompasses all sorts of decisions one makes in life. Almost everyone often goes against their best judgment just because they can't wholeheartedly want something. Heroes and villains, both in the stories and the ones I met, are no different. They are simply the ones with so much power that their decisions affect much more than themselves."
The prince nodded at the reminder of why they were here.
The entire world might change when people with a lot of power act. His father had done that, and he was on his way to doing it again. One had made a mistake, the other was going to fix it.
What mistakes would Arthur make by following his heart where he shouldn't? How many would die because of it? Would he fix it, or would someone else have to deal with the consequences?
The prince was nowhere perfect; he would make said mistakes. He'd better make sure they were reasonable, or he would become a fallen awakener. Acting protective of Sophie was one thing. Shattering the world if a prophecy ever foretold her death was another.
He considered everything quickly and changed the subject before Sophie could think of it and return to a bad mood. "When did you find the time to read poetry?" he asked Tamara.
"The truck driver wasn't the only one insisting Hanok is the greatest poet to ever live, master. A clerk in a store demanded I read a few pages of one of Hanok's books before she agreed to accept payment for everything else. He wrote a few gems, but it's mostly lousy work. Everything is too in the face, no sense of aesthetics or actual poetry, just a narrative worded differently."
"The storm one was a bit juvenile," Sophie commented as she turned the car back on. "I loved it!" she giggled excitedly. "Are you going to be my big bad storm, Archie? Will you bring lightning upon anyone who offends me? Will you blow them all to pieces?"
She was only half-joking; she wanted his reassurance.
Arthur smiled. "Every single one of them," he said firmly. "Who knows what you'll do to me if I don't?" he nodded at the steering wheel while unbending its metal interior.
Sophie stuck her tongue out, and Mr. Mustache chose that moment to return. She spent a few minutes caressing the cat, who ended up sleeping on her lap. Mr. Mustache complained when she turned the LP player back on, and she promptly lowered the volume.
The rest of the trip happened at a considerably slower speed than before.
* - * - *
To ensure nothing went wrong, they didn't visit another city in Luvy. Arthur had attacked one of the country's military bases, after all. While the League wasn't as weak as Howard had said, awakeners were known to disappear when they traveled alone, and that had worsened in the past ten years.
North Lake City was in Luvy's East. The Avaria Regulated Region was to the Northwest. They crossed Luvy in five hours, then spent another one going deeper into the nation of Boshia for good measure before stopping.
They couldn't go straight to Avaria, and not only because they needed to sleep. They had to gather more information to match against what they had found in North Lake and give the League a couple of days to respond to Arthur's actions. A big city was a must because it was easier to blend in and disappear if it came to it. Boshia's capital was a no-go because the country's leaders might feel too threatened after what Arthur had done in North Lake. Shantal, the province's capital, was perfect.
It was almost evening when they reached the city. According to one of the tourist guides Tamara had bought, it housed over two million people, making it the second largest city in Boshia. Unlike the recently built North Lake City, Shantal was already old when the Golden Kingdom was around. Arthur had even visited once.
He recognized nothing, of course. It had changed too much. Maybe some old neighborhoods would look familiar, but they saw only more of the same as they approached: farms, then some buildings, then larger and taller ones. The city center was a jungle of glass and steel, with skyscrapers hiding the skies.
Tamara and Graham were filled with sadness at what they saw. They had been to that place more than once, and seeing the location of their memories remade wasn't easy on them.
The written guides Tamara had bought almost unanimously called the Callibun Palace Hotel the best in the country, and Shantal had a branch. Sophie drove them there. They had no issues booking one of the wide skyscraper's penthouses.
"Archie, we need to talk," an introspective Sophie said as soon as they entered the elevator. "Privately."
She was in so much internal turmoil that Arthur couldn't read her. He could even see her using blood magic with his Mana Sight, probably for stability. It worried him.
"Of course," he said gently.
They went straight to the largest master suite. Sophie stopped to close the door, saying, "You'll want to sit for this."
Her magic flared even stronger. This was serious. Arthur didn't like it one bit.
He walked to the bed, which faced the double doors, and sat down, looking back at Sophie, who was only in underwear—
Arthur's mind froze at once.
Even without his stats, passive spells, and traits, he would never have forgotten the first time his eyes feasted on Sophie's breathtaking form.
It consumed him so much that he almost didn't notice she had stopped using her magic. She hadn't used it to stabilize her feelings but to hide her actual emotions from him. Still, he did notice it—because the best way to describe what he sensed was as Sophie being in heat. What he saw and smelled from her inebriated him like no liquor could.
"S- Sophie?" he stuttered as he whispered.
That caused the last bit of air in his lungs to leave him. He had to breathe but couldn't find the strength or focus to do it.
"I lied," a blushing Sophie said.
Then, she started approaching him with a slow gait. She kept her left hand behind herself, baring herself to him, while the tips of her lightly touched her skin, starting from her right leg, going to her belly, and upwards.
Arthur finally breathed again, and his mind started to make sense of what he was seeing. Sophie's underwear wasn't what he expected from a woman who had entered a dungeon as a child and grown there without any way to shop for clothing. It was sexy and purposeful, all black, perfectly matching her anti-blood choker. The contrast with her half-vampire excessively white skin was marvelous. She was even wearing a garter belt and stockings, which she had to have quickly put on as he walked to the bed. Her black hair matched it perfectly, while her shining red eyes created a unique atmosphere.
When she took her dress off, Sophie ditched the necklace with the red pendant that let her see blood. Arthur also swiftly let go of his Mana Sight passive spell. What he saw became even more alluring without the distraction of ambient mana.
"Fate," he mouthed, still not believing anything could be so beautiful. "Where did you find this?!"
She smiled, revealing slightly elongated canines. "It's a secret," she whispered. It coincided with her right hand finally reaching her lips, and he put her finger on top.
Sophie wasn't done speaking.
Not at all.
"I lied," she said seductively as she kept approaching. "I keep secrets from you." She pulled her lower lip with her finger. "I'm a bad, bad girl."
Her fingernail scrapped her lip, forming a long line from one side to the other. She made some blood float to Arthur and remove his clothes while slowly licking the rest. She didn't close the injury, leaving a crimson red line that, together with her eyes, made everything feel even more mystical.
Sophie had reached the now naked Arthur and half-sat, half-kneeled on top of him. She stopped her mouth inches from him, staring intensely into his eyes. "Will you discipline me?" she whispered.
Tamara had informed the two about many kinky plays. They had to be prepared and know what people were talking about. Still, the way she had said it was always in a depreciating tone. Arthur had never expected to ever experience something like this.
Granted, the maid had also pointed out that half-monsters almost always had peculiar mating rituals.
But this felt wrong.
Sophie looked so small and vulnerable in his arms! She was tall, but not as much as him, and he was muscular, while her body was lithe and curvaceous. It was weird to have her ask to be disciplined in such a setting. Despite how mature she looked in those clothes and acted, this didn't fit some of the images he had of her.
He was supposed to protect Sophie, not inflict her with any form of discomfort, not even playfully. Not even if she liked it. And she did; she had felt a mix of pain and pleasure when she cut her lips open.
Arthur considered all that in a split instant.
Then, he fully felt the warmth of Sophie's body against him and couldn't think anymore. Not at all.
Instinct took hold as soon as she kissed him.
* - * - *
Awakeners used magic in all areas of their lives. When they had the correct element, that included on the bed. Sophie didn't only kiss Arthur with her blood for her kinky desires; it was also a way to ask permission to push the liquid into him and use her bloodsinging abilities. He acceded, and that worked both ways. He knew exactly how to make her almost pass out from pleasure.
And Fate, was it good.
It was said that a concept called "cloud nine" had existed before the dungeons and Fate came to the world. No one knew what it had been about, but awakeners had appropriated it. It became the name of the unique state of absolute pleasure that could only be reached with sex and expert magic use.
Sophie's vampire half also influenced the way she sought to fulfill her physical needs. She was needy and always demanding more. She couldn't be satiated. Sophie wanted all of Arthur, and the only way to reassure her he was hers was to prove it time and time again.
Their first and subsequent times were awesome, amazing, breathtaking, unique, marvelous, wonderful, and an endless stream of adjectives to describe the most incredible pleasure Arthur had ever felt. It was also shocking. Sophie was an awakener, so he had never expected her to be too shy or unimaginative, but the things she wanted to try...
Fate, Arthur would be ever grateful for Sophie not caring about Tamara's tone when she talked about some things.
Well, to be honest, the prince had hoped for their first time together to be more romantic. Granted, it was romantic in a way. There's something about saying you love someone while sharing an intimate moment with them that is simply... indescribable.
But everything else was so... raw. Carnal. Animalistic.
Arthur felt some of his concepts and perspectives shatter that day. In a way, it truly felt like he was becoming a man, as rude people used to call one's first time. He even improved some of his life comprehension, though nowhere enough to improve another percentage.
His already muddy feelings on the matter became even more complex when he decided once and for all: he would destroy the world if it was ever the only way to save Sophie.
Was it what his father had done for him? Were the prophecies and divinations damning the man's son? Arthur had no progeny, but Tamara had once explained that many parents could be controlled by threatening their children. It was supposedly a unique kind of love.
If it was half what he was feeling for Sophie right then...
To Sophie's horror, Arthur cried as he realized he was just like the man who had broken the world. It was worse because realizing it didn't change his willingness to protect the one he loved. He was the monstrous son of a monster.
"Archie?" she asked, panicked.
"Soph..." he replied softly and shared his darkness with her.
The prince expected her to feel rightfully disgusted and leave him immediately. It would crush his heart, but she deserved the truth. She deserved to know the kind of person she had just given herself to.
To his surprise, instead of being put out by his words, Sophie was so overwhelmed with love for him when he shared his worries that he thought she might drown in the hormones.
He found the romance he so wanted in the following hours.
They took a few pauses as the hours passed, of course. In one of them, Arthur asked Tamara to purchase an assortment of modern food for them. She kept leaving it by the door.
Sophie found a new favorite in ice cream, while Arthur became a pizza lover. Both liked modern food from Acasia, the new name for the Eastern Plains. The prince hadn't enjoyed it in the past, but the domesticated raw fish had a softer taste that went well with the rice's slight sweetness. Or maybe he had simply started liking different things as an adult.
After their first night there, at lunch, Sophie had the brilliant idea of mixing culinary and physical pleasures. That enlightened Arthur, who ordered dozens of LPs to be brought to his room, which already had an LP player.
It turned out that music was the missing component for one to reach cloud ten or something.
* - * - *
Their second night in Shantal was primarily spent sleeping. The following morning, a radiant—and bathed—couple left the bedroom.
Most of the penthouse was a big common area that tripled as a living room, dining room, and kitchen. It was called open-concept architecture, something relatively new. The decoration was dark brown leather with hints of gold, which was already enough of an aberration, except for the white and silver kitchen, which caused a mismatch that made everything worse.
Arthur had barely paid any attention the day before— Well, the day before yesterday. Now, he couldn't help but comment, "Who did this to this place?! Don't they pity the poor furniture?"
Sophie chuckled as they approached the already set big round table in the "dining room." Arthur had knocked on his bedroom door three times before heading to the bath to inform Tamara of his plans to leave his quarters soon. The royal maid quickly prepared a bountiful breakfast for them.
Tamara waited silently beside the table. Graham was guarding the door from the outside. None visibly reacted to Arthur and Sophie leaving their room, but the prince had felt their disapproval when he and his suitress didn't watch out for the noise they were making.
Surprisingly, they didn't seem to care now. Tamara was even glad, though she didn't let it show on her face. The prince had never expected it from the strict maid. Then again, maybe she was just glad House Boria wouldn't end with him.
The positive reaction only made him feel guiltier for enjoying himself for over a day while his servants fulfilled their duty without rest.
That was expected of them, of course. They were sworn in his service, and unlike the strange modern work culture he had read in a book, said service defined their very identities. Graham didn't work as a knight; he was a knight. Tamara didn't have a job as a maid; she was a maid. And Arthur didn't take shifts leading his House; he was the Head of House Boria. In fact, it could be said that he had been working actively to fulfill his duties while in the bedroom.
The social malleability nowadays was alien to the four awakeners. Rising through the social ranks had been possible in the past, but it was a long-term prospect. Stability and public recognition came first. House Boria had started when Arthur's first known ancestor was knighted. Many generations later, they ruled over a kingdom.
Whoever had tried to rise too fast was shut down. You had to prove yourself before being accepted by the higher strata. That was only natural. The stronger an awakener and the more influence they had, the greater their responsibilities became. No one wanted a one-time star to become king and sire useless children or, worse, a useless family of strong awakeners to gain too much power.
Arthur was aware that things weren't always that nice. Still, from Tamara's accounts, foul play was almost always punished faster and more aggressively than what was done to those who reached too high too quickly. It was the culture. Every awakener understood their place in protecting society and accepted they would be valued not only for their power but also their ancestors.
Even those who became filthy rich and famous weren't immediately accepted in the inner circles of established power. Unlike how people thought these days, money hadn't been everything. Connections and responsibility were more important because the world depended on it. Building that trust took time.
In other words, your family line mattered—which was another reason extramarital relationships were abhorred, and Arthur had expected his servants to disapprove of what he and Sophie had done.
In fact, the maid had disclosed to Arthur that Charlotte's funeral had been much more eventful than the prince knew. When William Graham revealed that Stinson had poisoned him into sterility, the Golden King had grown furious. No matter how influential, powerful, or important to the kingdom, Stinson had tried to end House Graham's line! He only had failed because Charlotte had successfully stone the potion to heal him—and paid for it with her life.
The scandal had reached enormous proportions. Stinson had only survived the ordeal because William hadn't taken the old man's life when he had the chance at the funeral. That was considered House Graham forgiving High House Stinson. And although Charlotte had married into House Graham, she had been born a Stinson and had sacrificed herself to heal her husband. In a way, High House Stinson had fixed its own mess.
Even then, Stinson had been exiled.
That's right; the thirty grand knights who had come to escort the king to the portal to the dungeon's entrance had officially been there to ensure Stinson didn't escape or try anything stupid against the king. However, the king had reached a secret agreement with the old man: the latter would spend the last ten or so years of his life in the kingdom, but guarding the dungeon's entrance, while the former would ensure High House Stinson wasn't too affected by the absence of its leader and strongest awakener. Even so, the king only trusted Stinson to do it because of Charlotte's last actions and how shattered the grand knight had become when he learned she had died to cure William.
Back to the matter at hand, as important as keeping intimacy inside the marriage was, Arthur didn't care much in this case. He would marry Sophie; everything was fine. For how Tamara seemed to agree, she had clearly withheld some cultural notions from his education. That even explained the queen's letter, which discussed people meeting under the moonlight and his parents' scandal.
Fate, Arthur was really his father's son, wasn't he?
By the way, Arthur had taken precautions against siring children. High elven roots or not, he wasn't ready to care for a new life, nor did he want his son to be born under scandalous circumstances.
Anyway...
Arthur frowned. Why was his thoughts so unfocused? He blamed Sophie. He would discipline her later. Vigorously. If she was in the mood, of course.
Anyway, even though Tamara and Graham were only doing what they had sworn to and were paid well to do—probably; Arthur still had to talk to Tamara about his House's finances—it had been almost ten years since their last day off. They deserved some free time.
"We'll leave two days from now after lunch," he declared. He was waiting for the League's decision but didn't want them to think he was afraid. "Graham will rest today. Tamara will rest tomorrow."
"I don't need downtime, master," Tamara said at once.
"Everything you taught me says otherwise," he replied smugly. "Just be careful. We four know how dangerous the unawakened can be these days."
Arthur was confident they could just run through walls and escape as long as they didn't enter an enchanted, enclosed escape. The highly populated city was safe enough for them to stay away from him for a little while.
Tamara didn't show any annoyance as she bowed slightly. "As you command, master."
Her complaint and Arthur's answer also served for Graham. The grand knight opened the door, repeated Tamara's words and bow, and immediately turned tail to leave the hotel and enjoy his time—or whatever he planned. It didn't look like he was going for a walk in the park.
Still, the prince trusted the knight to behave himself enough. His servants understood they represented him even when taking a leave of absence.
"Any messages from the League?" Arthur asked as he pulled a chair for Sophie, then sat beside her. He had no doubt the League was aware of his whereabouts.
"No, master. But the Commissioner of Cultural Affairs invited you to a concert five days from now. A famous orchestra will be playing, and there will be a reception afterward."
So, the local authorities were probing for how long he would stay. "Let them know I won't be here anymore, but check if this orchestra will be playing while we're here. Speaking of which..." he turned to Sophie. "...would you fancy a deep dive into popular culture or visiting the cycles of high society while we're here?"
Sophie's face became beet red as she boldly raised two fingers. "We need to make out once every two hours. We can do whatever you want, but I won't accept anything less than that."
Arthur had to make an effort not to look at Tamara, who pretended not to hear anything. Sophie had a much easier time disregarding the servants' presence than him.
The prince forced a smile as he grabbed a crystal goblet with fruit salad. "I know I'm good, but that sounds slightly exaggerated."
And Fate, was she good too.
"Don't you play coy with me," Sophie replied while pointing a spoon at him. She was using it to eat something called crème brûlée. "You're the one who didn't want to leave the bed or the bath, remember? And you were there when Lady Lauquenbur talked about it with us. Newlyweds can't keep their hands to themselves. We skipped a step, but this is what she was talking about."
Arthur chuckled. His higher mind stats let him "resist the temptation" better than her, but he loved the attention and feeling desired. More importantly, below his control was a man who wanted it even more than Sophie, just like she had shamelessly revealed to his maid.
He said, "Well, it seems we'll need places with nearby hotels." As awakeners, they could ensure no one would notice them no matter where they partook in each other, but that was a line neither of them would cross. It would be just too rude to the community. "Can you plan it for us, Tamara?"
"Have you considered the private swimming pool, master?"
"Yes." The pool wasn't covered, but while Sophie was vulnerable to sunlight, he could do something about it. He would have if she didn't have a different idea. "We'll check it out this night."
"I see. Do you want me to include your time off in the plans, master?" the maid asked, not bothering to hide the tease from her question.
Sophie giggled nervously, and Arthur smiled, embarrassed. "That won't be necessary, thanks."
"I'll see to it after breakfast, master. Unless it's urgent?"
"Not really. Thank you, Tamara."
"My pleasure, master," she replied, sassily emphasizing the last word.
Sophie became beet red. Arthur choked on his food.
Fate, Tamara had been right; too much familiarity with a servant was a mistake.
He gave her a warning glance, and she returned his earlier smug smile for a moment, then nodded once. She would stop, but she was also warning him not to behave too familiarly with her. While neither party was supposed to make fun of the other, she was willing to engage in it—as long as it was a two-way road.
Dealing with that indelicate servant was just so stressful!
Arthur was forced to decompress with Sophie in the bedroom before they finally went to check on the city!
Endless were the woes of lordship.
[A/N: Not sure if I'll name this mini-arc (I'm planning three chapters or less) something like "A Breather" or if I should just add it to the incoming arc.]
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