Chapter 105: The Cocagne Affair (5)

Simon and Remedia thus went on a ‘date.’

Both of them used illusions to change their appearances, with Remedia becoming an unrecognizable, elegant blonde lady and Simon putting on his old Whispermire disguise. Simon had selected a high-end, posh Fablan restaurant with beautiful mahogany furniture, velvet seats, and a small stage where a group of performers coincidentally played out a romantic comedy.

“A Fablan-themed restaurant with its own theater… a place designed to appeal to all of my sensibilities,” Remedia mused as a waiter poured them Valian wine. Simon had reserved a solitary table to give them some privacy. “My favorite drink too. Your intelligence service has done its research.”

“Does it really matter how I obtained this information?” Simon replied, not denying it. “So long as you enjoy the evening?”

“It matters that everything you do and say to me will come across as manipulative. Is this the moment where you try to seduce me in the hope of starting a scandal that will sideline my husband and his supporters?”

Of course she had figured it out. “Don’t tell me no man has ever tried to woo your heart, either before or after your husband came into the picture.”

“I do regularly receive such proposals from my nobles,” Remedia replied playfully, sipping her wine, “and I am wise enough to deny them.”

“Has this wisdom brought you any happiness?” Simon asked pointedly, though the fact that she had enjoyed watching her husband being defeated in public had already answered that.

“It spared me many headaches. I will not deny that Filip and I have some… issues… but he is a good man and the better option.”

A good man wouldn’t be so petty as to send assassins over a sparring session, Simon thought. That attack had eased his conscience about plotting to make that man’s life miserable.

“Does he regularly send rats or animal spies after you or my sister?” Simon inquired.

“Sometimes. I have warded the area to ensure they cannot track or observe us, if that is what worries you.” Remedia met Simon’s gaze, and he could sense her seeing through him. “A divorce would lead to another risky tournament for my hand, and an affair would be equally scandalous… which I am sure is why your family sent you here. An alternative should your sister’s engagement fall through, or as a way to drive a wedge in our institutions. This will not happen.”

Beautiful, powerful, and smart, Simon thought. He had to say he was starting to realize why Balzam was so obsessed with this woman. “Yet here you are, playing along with us.”

“I am not a fool,” Remedia replied grimly. “If you’re the least of the Magnos, my country doesn’t stand a chance, even with my power. My army and I will kill many of you, that I am certain, and your soldiers will bleed for every inch of Cocagnian soil you will take… but in the end, you will win.” She let out a heavy, tired sigh. Simon had the feeling she had had this exact conversation with her husband many times before. “We cannot defeat the Overlord and so many Noble Class users at once. It is something Filip and his supporters have yet to accept.”

“Enough that they would ally with the White Unicorn and Illusea to murder a bastard prince?” Simon guessed, catching her by surprise. “Those fireball necklaces are an elven invention issued to their agents.”

“You were well-informed,” Remedia said, sounding a little impressed in spite of herself. “I assume the attack was half payback for that humiliation earlier, half an attempt to break up negotiations over Verdis’ engagement. Filip opposed that match from day one in favor of a princess overseas.”

“Lady Satine Renais, I would assume.” Simon sipped his wine, finding it quite tasty. It fascinated him how wide Ilusea’s web of alliances stretched. He had no doubt the Oracle had been pushing for a Cocagne-White Unicorn coalition for a very long time. “Well, you chose wisely. The path you took may be the only one capable of preserving your country’s autonomy, if not its independence.”

“Thank you.” Remedia waited a moment before asking, “What do you want, Simon?”

Simon shrugged. “The same thing you do, I imagine. Peace between our nations.”

“You misunderstood my question,” she said, her tone sharper than a blade. “I asked what do you want, at the end of it all? Not what your nation wants, or your sister, or the prince of Endymion. You.”

Simon pondered her question for a moment. What did he want? For this reign, the answer was obvious: more magical knowledge, more information on the Zodiac Fiends and the reigns, more insight into Norbelle’s gifts, maybe a Noble Crestone or two… but those were only steps on the path to fulfill a greater goal.

What would his perfect reign look like? He wanted to save the world from the Zodiac Parade for sure, and hopefully prevent Endymion from tearing itself apart in a civil war. He wanted Belzemine, Anna, and Eole to be free and happy, for his friends and retainers to prosper, for his loved ones to be safe…

But in the end, all those elements boiled down to one thing.

“I want the strength not to compromise,” Simon replied.

Remedia blinked. “The strength not to compromise?”

“I have had to do things I wasn’t comfortable with to be where I am today.” Simon clenched his fist as his memory of the Seasonal Key ritual flooded his mind, alongside his many betrayals, the many deaths of his retainers, and the way he had been forced to treat Belzemine to keep her alive. He yearned for the power to live an uncompromising reign without guilt or remorse. “What I want is power, Your Majesty. Power so pure and so absolute, that neither the world nor its people can prevent me from doing what I feel is right, or from protecting those I care about.”

Remedia watched him for a moment, a glimmer of interest flashing in her gaze. “And you think you will find this power through chronomancy research?”

It amused Simon that she had apparently kept close enough watch on him to learn which books he read at the library. “I possess the blood of both demons and Visionaries, like Norbelle,” he boasted. “One side of my lineage crippled the other, granting me some gifts and denying me others, but I believe I can unlock this potential and strive closer to the summits I seek.”

“You wish to delve deeper and gaze into the abyss of magic.” She uttered that last set of words with respect, maybe even awe. “It is the same desire I feel when I see your sister practice her craft.”

Simon finished his glass. “You’re not watching her for inspiration, but to understand how to replicate her gifts.”

Remedia nodded. “Magic knows no frontier. It is not because no Mage has yet to summon an eidolon that it is impossible.”

“Beware, Your Majesty,” Simon teased her. “Some would say it is blasphemous to crave a Visionary’s gifts.”

“And it would be shameful not to try to push our limits further than those that came before,” Remedia replied, a fox-like grin that sent Simon’s heartbeat into a frenzy stretching on her lips. “If the gods do not stop me, then surely they look fondly on this enterprise.”

Simon’s blood stirred in his veins. Her ambition, her grace, her charm… How could any man remain indifferent?

No, he told himself, the memories of Cassandra and Anna flooding his mind. He still remembered the sting of the latter forgetting him, and though the former taught him to live in the moment and accept love again, those feelings might cloud his judgment. I’ve played along with Norbelle for now, but attraction is a bad advisor. I must keep a clear head.

A boy was a slave to his whims, and a man their master.

“What do you want, Remedia?” he asked her out of genuine curiosity.

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“I would like to keep my throne and my country in one piece,” the queen answered. “And hopefully for my son to find happiness in his marriage. I want to see Cocagne prosper.”

“That’s what the queen wants,” Simon replied pointedly. “I asked Remedia. What does the woman want?”

This time, it was Remedia’s turn to consider his question in depth. She looked at what remained of her wine, gazing into her reflection, and then allowed her queenly mask to slide away just a bit.

“I want the same thing you do,” she admitted. “I had to compromise on many, many things to improve my queendom. I traded the good of the many for the privileges of the few.” She finished her wine. “I want to gaze into the abyss of magic deeper than any Mage before me, and eclipse them all in power. I want Cocagne to prosper. I want my son to be happy…” She hesitated a moment, before adding, “and I want a daughter.”

“The last one should be easy enough to fix for you and your husband, even considering your issues,” Simon pointed out, squinting. “What is truly going on between you and him?”

“That is not for you to know,” Remedia replied sharply, “And if you think you or any other spy Endymion sends can replace him, then you are sorely mistaken. I will neither cheat nor divorce him.”

“Fine by me,” Simon replied with a shrug. After all, he had been mostly going along with Norbelle’s plan to better study her, but he knew from other reigns that Remedia would eventually sign on with the Church Party anyway. He didn’t need to seduce the queen to save the treaty. “Our goals of sidelining your Militarist faction align, so you can count on our support either way.”

“Excellent,” she said, watching the play. “This was a good evening, but we should return to the palace, lest we worry your retainers and my husband.”

It annoyed Simon, but she was right. It was getting late. “I enjoyed this dinner too. We could do it again.”

“It wouldn’t be wise, Prince Simon,” Remedia chided him. “You earned a private tutelage session though. I have the feeling we can both help each other when it comes to magical research, at least. Your unique affinities for the Light and Dark are… fascinating.”