Chapter 955: The Unadulterated Jason

The diplomatic contingent from the Storm Kingdom had set up their area of Jason’s cloud ship like an embassy. Jason provided the space, tailored it to their requests, and left them to it. Like an actual embassy, any sovereignty the Storm Kingdom representatives held was a polite fiction, agreed upon with the host. As Jason made his way to that area of the ship, he reflected that civilisation itself was really just a series of fictions, collectively agreed to.

Many within a society didn’t even realise the degree to which it was, essentially, just made up. How many of the bedrocks on which they built their lives, their very identities, were arbitrary inventions. Lines on maps; the value of a bank note. Who was born to rule, and who to serve.

It was disruption that revealed those fictions, breaking the illusion and forcing people to confront the world in which they lived. This was what Earth had been going through since the revelation of magic. Jason had seen the beginning, but the changes had continued in his absence. Nations had fallen or transformed, devoured by their neighbours. Others had risen or expanded. The economy had collapsed, and the very nature of ownership had shifted. The ability to hold a thing was becoming more important than a piece of paper saying who owned it.

Spirit coins had become widespread while Jason was away, challenging the dominance of fiat currency. Spirit coin farms had become viable on earth, not just in astral spaces. The Asano clan had been a large factor in this, freely disseminating guides on how to set up such farms. More than anything else they or Jason had done, this earned the ire of nations who still did not hesitate to use those guides.

Although he had been studying the changes to Earth through his avatars, there was only so much Jason could learn from the confines of his spirit domains. He needed to get his head around a situation that was still in flux. His arrival had already exacerbated instability, and diplomatic contact with representatives of an alien power would do the same.

Jason’s interest was currently on only a single member of the Storm Kingdom delegation. He entered the lobby of their shipboard consulate and walked up to the woman sitting behind the desk. If she had been an earthling, the silver-rank woman would have been powerful and important, even with the monster core residue permeating her aura. In the Storm Kingdom, she was a receptionist.

“Lord Asano.”

“G’day Kara. And again, not a lord.”

“But you are a king. I can address you as ‘your majesty,’ if that is your preference.”

“My preference would be to have you call me Jason.”

“As you wish, Lord Jason.”

“How about we stick to the unadulterated Jason.”

“I have my instructions, Lord Jason. And, if I might ask, when was the last time you could honestly claim to be unadulterated? I’m not sure I’ve encountered anyone as politically encumbered as you, Lord Jason, and I work for interdimensional diplomats.”

Jason held out his hands in surrender as he let out a chuckle.

“I’m not sure I can argue past that,” he said. “Is the princess ready?”

“That technically could include a third of the delegation, Lord Jason. I assume you mean Princess Zara?”

“Yes, Kara. I am waiting for Zara.”

“She’s on her way. And, if I might make a suggestion, Lord Jason?”

“By all means.”

“Most women don’t find you comparing their names to other women amusing, even if you do.”

Jason raised his eyebrows, then bowed his head.

“Good looking out,” he said gratefully.

He looked around the room as he waited for the princess to emerge. The white marble streaked with blue was native to the Storm Kingdom. Jason had fed half a quarry’s worth to the cloud flask on his last visit, to better accommodate the Rimaros diplomats. The plants were likewise his, but the decorations otherwise belonged to the delegation. With tapestries, paintings, statuaries and carpets, they had not been shy about making themselves at home.

The delegation appeared to include an interior decorator, and the results had Jason nodding his head in approval. Imposing, yet not intimidating, the room showed off the kingdom’s wealth, but with a reserve that avoided ostentation. The decorations told the story of a kingdom with history, power and dignity. The way they were displayed was a message of restraint and maturity. Jason could see the message it presented to any Earth politician who saw it.

“Knowing Earth politicians,” he muttered to himself, “they may want to have gone less subtle.”

“What was that, Lord Jason.”

“Don’t mind me, Kara.”

When Zara emerged, her attire was incongruous with the imposing lobby. She wore a light summer dress, sandals and wide-brimmed sunhat. The print of her dress and the flower atop her hat set off the sapphire in her eyes, and in the hair spilling out from under her headwear. Compared to the marble and centuries old decorations that wouldn’t have been out of place in a museum, she presented as every inch the cruise ship passenger. The kind of passenger who would send distracted onlookers tumbling overboard.

She wandered over to him, a smile playing on her lips. Jason was glad not to have changed out of the suit he wore to the meeting with Earth’s ambassadors. While his normal attire might match hers better thematically, he suddenly felt the need for as much aesthetic appeal as he could muster.

“Princess,” he said with a slight bow.

“Captain,” she replied, not putting too much effort into supressing a grin.

“While I am technically captain of this ship, you realise that no one else calls me that, right?”

“Would you like me to stop?”

“No,” he confessed.

The giggle she let out at the awkward expression was like water tinkling in a stream. It triggered lizard-brain instincts he didn’t realise were still there, given his new nature. Her presence sent an electric spark running through his body, reaching through his avatar and into his soul. In New Water, residents looked up as thunder pealed on an empty blue sky.

She was looking him up and down more overtly than he was taking in her attire.

“I’m glad to see that you have finally discovered that comfort and dignity are not mutually exclusive,” she teased.

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“Are you saying there is an issue with my fashion sense?”

“I think ‘sense’ might the wrong word to describe the way you normally dress. I’m sure that Danielle has explained that how you garb yourself is as critical in diplomacy as the armour you wear into battle.”

He laughed.

“Almost word for word.”

“You do understand that you’re a king, do you not? A strange messenger king, of a people who would murder you if they could, but still royalty.”

“Does your nation even formally recognise my astral kingdom?”

“That is an open question, at the moment. One that I suspect will be closed soon enough.”

“Are you saying I should get a crown?”

“I’m saying that perhaps your current attire should be your model going forward.”

“And why exactly is that, Princess? Would you describe me as dapper, perhaps? Dashing? Rakishly handsome?”

“I would describe you, Captain, as lacking in humility.”

“At least I’m not going to be on a foot website once pictures of me in sandals start circulating.”

She narrowed her eyes at him.

“I do not know what that means,” she said, “but I find myself under the distinct impression that you deserve to get slapped. Are you looking to get slapped, Captain?”

He glanced around in exaggerated conspiratorial fashion, looking over at the receptionist, Kara. He then leaned in to whisper in Zara’s ear.

“Out of curiosity, would it be good or bad if I said yes?”

Her snort of laughter was decidedly unprincess-like, earning raised eyebrows from Kara. Zara pushed her hands against his chest, shoving him back lightly.

“You, Captain, have a long way to go in the cultivation of decorum.”