Chapter 43: The Stone Muse (3)

Elaine Malphas spent the entire flight being the perfect courtier.

“No way,” Simon said, a smile forming on his lips in spite of himself. “My father actually said that to Thalas’ face?”

“I kid you not,” Elaine replied, slightly tailoring her wording to sound more casual and less refined. “Lord Thalas had just finished his weapon demonstration when His Majesty scoffed and said, ‘I gave you the Berserker Crestone because I thought even a monkey could use it well. I should have followed my first instinct and given it to an ape.’ I could see the light leave the poor boy’s eyes.”

Was it a shame to say Simon burst out laughing when he heard that? He felt torn between amusement and guilt. Even if Simon had no love for Thalas, their father deserved no applause for treating his children so awfully. “My father is not a family man.”

“I could tell.” She feigned unease next. “Our nobles are a cruel lot, both towards each other and themselves. Many of their children look down on my father and me for our common origins. It is… exhausting.”

Appealing to my bastard sensibilities to elicit sympathy, check. “I’m afraid the academy won’t be any more welcoming. Perhaps we should start a book club for the baseborn.”

“Or an occult club,” she replied, smiling faintly. “I’ve been getting into astrology lately.”

“What a coincidence—” It wasn’t, “—me too. What’s your sign?”

Elaine Malphas proceeded to tell Simon she was a Maiden with a fortuitous Minotaur ascendant sign, and then regaled him with her belief that the Zodiac could deeply affect one’s destiny and compatibility with other people. Simon had to give it to her, she was courteous, polite, and knew how to extensively prepare to approach her marks. The model courtier.

In short, Elaine Malphas was a two-faced, duplicitous viper that just oozed deceit.

Was she trying to ingrain herself with Simon personally, or to use him as a stepping stone to reach Louis? The fact that her father only sent her to attend the academy once the crown-prince decided to go there pointed to the latter possibility, but Simon couldn’t be sure yet.

What do I actually know of House Malphas? Simon wondered. Only the official story.

The tale of Patriate Malphas’ ascension was well-known. He started out as a banker and entrepreneur in Valendre who then purchased a tax office—a common practice in the provinces—and then proved so effective at his job that he received promotion after promotion. His talents led him all the way to the rank of Baron, a rank he then leveraged alongside newfound connections to marry his sisters to important imperial dukes, become Lord Treasurer, and obtain the Merchant Noble Crestone as a symbol of office. His daughter Elaine was the result of an affair with another trader’s daughter and was then legitimized at her father’s request… or at least, that was what she told Simon.

All in all, House Malphas was the shining picture of imperial social mobility where talent could open the way to the heights of nobility, and an encouragement to all commoners to work hard for the glory of Endymion.

Why would they even assist elves in attacking the capital, assuming their house was involved in the attack? All their achievements and continued prosperity rested on the empire’s continued survival. It just didn’t make sense.

But then again, he had bigger demonic fish to fry. Simon trusted Shabram to get to the bottom of the Patriate matter while he focused on investigating the black comet and the Zodiac Fiends.

Once they arrived in Telluria and he finally shed Elaine Malphas off him, the first thing Simon did was to invite all of his retainers to visit Duchar and his daughter, then reveal his identity as Overlord to them in the archive as he had done in past reigns. Duchar, Cassandra, and Belzemine dutifully offered him their help, Leonard and Meredith knelt, and Lorimor crawled at his feet while professing his eternal loyalty. Simon bore his antics and waited for him to finish.

But then he said something that caught Simon’s full attention.

“Oh Ruler of the Abyss, oh Serpent-Bearer, I am always your faithful serva–”

“Wait, wait, what did you just call me?” Simon cocked his head at the cultist. “Serpent-Bearer? Who told you this?”

“My muse! My muse told me so much about you!” Lorimor all but cried with religious fervor. “She has waited for your return for so long, oh Lord of the Dark!”

Simon had become numb to Lorimor’s madness, so he had failed to pick up on that detail. “You met this demon in Magvolia, if I recall?”

“Yes, in the Darkwoods, among the tangled trees and twisted trails! She sang to me among the stones and muddy waters!”

Simon turned to Duchar, who had been watching Lorimor with utter contempt. “The Darkwood is a forest in Magvolia,” the old necromancer explained calmly. “There used to be a manatree and a large elven settlement there before the Year of the Doom, but it has gone rotten with miasma. The place is a wellspring of the Dark and crawling with fiends, yet many foolish adventurers regularly try their luck in an attempt to pilfer its forgotten riches. No doubt this fool yearned for them and paid the price.”

“I have heard of that place from other soldiers, Your Majesty,” Meredith said. “The army considered sending an expedition there, but Lord Louis deemed it not worth the cost. The demons there rely on the dense miasma to survive like elves need mana and cannot leave the region, so they pose little threat unless actively provoked.”

Simon pondered this. He recalled that his father’s notes mentioned Magvolia as a location hosting one of the demonbarrows that remained unaccounted for. Could it be…

He had to check. “Lorimor, I have a task for you, one that requires astronomical calculations. Agnes will assist you in this.”

“Your Dark Majesty honors me beyond my wildest dreams,” the cultist replied with excitement.

“And you shall be granted power appropriate for your service.” Simon opened his gauntleted hand and called upon the Brands of Sloth, Gluttony, and Lust. “These brands shall grant you various benefits, such as increased experience yield, immunity to poison, disease, and fatigue, or eternal youth. The first of them, which my father already blessed Duchar with, will also allow me to speak with you through telepathy over any distance.”

“Fascinating… I wasn’t aware Your Majesty could assign so many variants of the brand at once,” Duchar said, stroking his beard. “I shall pass on youth, but I would welcome protection from fatigue.”

“Oh?” Simon asked in surprise. “I would have thought you would be the first to request the gift, considering your advanced age.”

“Your Majesty is a generous patron, but youth clouds the mind with baser instincts. Age has sharpened my focus and freed me from temptation. I have no nostalgia for my foolish younger years.” Duchar chuckled darkly. “Besides, I hope to transition into becoming a lich one day. I would only require youth if I need more time to complete the ritual.”

And here Simon thought he had shown some wisdom. He wasn’t particularly eager to deal with another lich after his disastrous encounter with his own ancestor.

“Personally, I would like to obtain all three marks,” Cassandra said demurely. “If Your Majesty would bless me so.”

“The likes of me and Lorimor should hold out on the youth blessing as well,” Leonard suggested. “I do not think the changes would be too noticeable, but we shouldn’t take the risk.”

“I will take eternal life,” Meredith replied. “I would rather keep my skills forever sharp, and I am not so old that it would be noticed.”

“Fair enough,” Simon replied as he turned to Belzemine. He had dreaded this moment for some time, rehearsing it in his head many times. “As for you, it displeases me that you bear the mark of a previous Overlord. I shall remove my predecessor’s Brand of Pride from you and replace it with these three.”

Belzemine’s eyes widened in brief horror and distress. “Your Majesty… Your Majesty would remove my brand?”

“The only brands you need are those I apply myself, those that mark you as my property,” Simon replied imperiously, albeit with reluctance. He needed to remove the Brand of Pride to prevent Vouivre from ever using it against him, but in such a way that wouldn’t cause a scene like in the last reign. “Do you have an issue with that, Agnes?”

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Belzemine clearly didn’t like it, but she simply lowered her head in obedience. “I am Your Majesty’s servant in all things.”

At least she didn’t cry and break down this time, Simon thought grimly. Her meek acceptance of her own slavery, and the fact that he had to partake in her torment just to appease her unsettled him. She still thinks I intend to keep her as my slave, and it reassures her.

Little steps, he told himself. Eole was right; his best bet was to be a kind master to her until her emotional scars could slowly heal and freedom became a desirable possibility rather than a daunting one.

After purging Belzemine of the Brand of Pride, Simon assigned his own marks to his retainers. Belzemine, Meredith, and Cassandra were granted all three, while the rest settled on the Sloth and Gluttony ones only.

He then proceeded to assign orders. Belzemine and Lorimor would complete Balzam Magnos’ astronomical research on demonbarrows to the best of their abilities and confirm if the Darkwoods indeed held one; Leonard and Meredith would help him keep watch on Louis and Elaine, respectively; and the necromancers would continue to teach him the ways of the Dark. All in all, he was set on spending this reign doing research in Telluria.

But then…

Then he met Anna again.

Simon found her waiting for him in his bedroom when he returned to the academy with Meredith and Leonard.

He had expected it. She had always been there with Tiella, waiting to surprise him… and he was, when he saw two newcomers seated with them at the table, smiling and laughing.

“Ah, Simon,” Louis greeted him with a playful smile. An elegant young woman Simon had never seen yet sat at his right, a golden goblet in hand. “We were starting to wonder if you had lost your way.”

“You are too kind, Louis,” Anna replied with a chuckle. “I should chastise him for keeping us waiting for so long. What punishment does he deserve, Tiella?”

“Maybe we should listen to his excuse first,” Tiella said shyly.

“Right, that.” Anna stared at Simon with mischief in her eyes. He could never resist her when she did that. “What do you have to say in your defense?”