Victor
When I enter the tavern is full and the music is lively. I wave to the barkeep who gives me the 'go on' sign so I take the stairs to the right and climb them three at a stride.
At the top there are six guards standing in the wide hallway before the meeting room door. Six? I didn't bring one. Maybe I should have?
Inside the room I find all five of the houses represented by their masters, and one extra master from what I realize is dominantly believed to be the sixth on the list from the throne.
"I'm sorry Philip, this is a private meeting. I invited who I wished to attend," I told him.
"Bullocks on that," he said. "I've got the right to know what you are up to with the houses. Now that Maximilian is out of the way."
"Out of the way?" I asked, closing the door. "Have a care how you speak about him. He is favored. You are not."
"He's got the madness, he's no longer Regent," he said.
His name was Philip, of the Iron dragon clan. I went through what I knew of him from memory. I've always found him to be rash, and short sighted. Also possessing the belief that if he made a scene, people would notice â which was true for the most part. I always have. But I decided to let him stay, for now. Perhaps it would work better.
My focus was on the three strong houses. This was more of a news bulletin for the other two â well, now three lesser houses.
"Fine, stay but you don't have a vote. Pipe up too often and you're leaving. Understand?"
He gave me a sneer, but said nothing and sat down.
Dragons were by nature, contrary. You couldn't judge them by human standards of politeness or insult. Philip's fires were burning. I could smell them. The smoke they set off might very well cover my own efforts at masking my own emotional state with aggressive scents.
At the table were the others, who stood when I entered but were now seated again. I gave the group a short bow.
Igor, sitting to my direct left, represented the Silver dragon clan. Large, thick in just about every way, but as easy to laugh as he was to battle. He would be next in line, if things of this nature were measured with math and percentiles. Obviously they are not. But this was the strongest of the strong claims. His clan, however, was not the strongest to back his claim.
That fell to James of the Green dragon clan, to Igor's left. Strong claim, strongest house. And probably the strongest in the room, for that matter. Not as big or as thick but solid. His visage was hard and chiseled from dark brown flesh. His nose was broken in the middle, and hawk shaped. Dark black hair hung in thick locks over his ears, down to his shoulders.
Ivan, to the left of him, and next to Philip, came from the Red dragon clan. His house was stronger than Igor's, though not as strong as James. This again was a measure of math and numbers but again, not precise when thinking about war. With war, everyone has a plan, until they get hit.
Earnest of the Blue dragons, to the left of Philip, matched Ivan in all areas except hereditary claim. His was an odd case, however. Had my mother lived longer than my father, his would be the highest claim, and backed with stronger forces than Igor currently had. It wasn't a direct match up but the argument would put the council in session for a week, I was certain, trying to make the decision. During which time, they would just attack each other and find out for themselves.
That was really the thing. The thing I wanted to address. As it stood right now, victory in battle proved the will of the gods. Which was bullshit. It was no way to run a country. It was also, I realized while looking around the table, the cause of my reputation problem.
Hare, sitting directly to my right, was of the White dragons. His clan was allied strongest with mine, the Gold dragon clan. We had shared marriages and treaties going back three thousand years. I had this with Igor, James and Ivan as well, but not as many or as openly as I had with Hare. His clan offered strength to mine, which was really why he was here. His claim, on paper, didn't truly over reach Philip's, not really. He was favored, and that put him over Philip and this was likely the cause of Philip's objection.
I unpacked all of this in my mind and spread it out to look over, measuring it against the expressions and sensory information in the room. Sitting down, I found myself not liking my chances.
Igor, the strongest claim, was expectant. He didn't bother to mask his eagerness either. The tips of his thick thumbs were knocking together with the rhythm of his pulse above his folded hands. He thinks I'm abdicating the throne tonight. They all do. He's already claimed victory.
Deciding to knock that over, I said, "Abdication is not on the list of discussions tonight."
This took the wind out of Igor and James. Ivan smirked. Earnest smiled, confusingly.
Philip left his chair in a fury, "What? You're no leader, whelp! What's it take to get through to you? A challenge? Fine. I challenge you now!" and he went for his blade.
My reaction was clearly not expected. Cross drawing the dagger from my side, I hurled the long blade into his heart, the force of the blow sending him backwards into the wall behind him. Shock stripped his face of all other emotions, as blood drained from his visage. Then, dying cemented his shock into his death mask.
I stood up, slowly, "Anyone else?"
Each was displaying a shock of their own. I walked to the door, and opened it. "Who came with Philip?"
A guard raised his hand.
"You can take his body now. He lost." I told him. "One of you can help if you like," I added in a tone that negated the politeness of the request. Another guard stepped forward and followed the other into the room. Between them they lifted and carried Philip out, and I closed the door behind them.
Philip hadn't had a chance to change, which was lucky for me. Otherwise the battle might have lasted half the night. His armor would have stopped the blade easily. Cleaving the heart, killed everything.
"You confuse morals with ethics, gentlemen," I said, as I turned around to find the remaining five much more attentive. "You're all strong houses. That is true. I'm the strongest. And I have the strongest claim, no matter how you stack things up. I'm not morally against killing. I hope that is plain now. I don't want there to be any confusion going forward. I'll kill in defense of the throne, in defense of this city, this country, and of Alicja. Without hesitation or guilt. My desire for bringing back those men who killed my father, alive, is a matter of Ethics. A matter of law. It is what we should base our conflicts and understandings on."
"I won that challenge. Fairly. Decisively. And, because we have the long worn belief that the gods show their will with blood. That is not true, and if it is, then the god isn't worthy of our reverence."
Lightening my voice into a softer reflective tone, I said, "Philip was the head of a strong house. A house that will be in ruin by tomorrow morning because of his actions tonight. We will miss his strength soon, I'm certain of it."
I met each of their eyes, going around the table from left to right, ending with Hare. "Can we return to our discussion now? Abdication is still not on the docket."
Each of them nodded, so I sat down and we discussed what my needs were, and I listened to ideas of their own.
It was well after midnight before I returned to the manor house. I peeked into her room, expecting to find her asleep, only to see her sitting in bed, reading.
"Hello," she said, smiling as she set her ebook to the side. "Did you have a nice time with the boys? Are you drunk? With lipstick on your collar?"
"Lipstick? No, they were boys," I said. "But not that kind of boys."
"So you're drunk."
"I could be if I drank to my potential, but as so often happens, I did not."
"A nice time?" she tried.
"Meh," I grunted. "But I might have gotten what I needed."
"Come to bed," she said, smoothing the place by her side.
"I really should take a steam first," I said.
"I'll come with you," she said with a gleeful smile.
"I thought you preferred baths," I said.
"I do. Actually a shower is best, but baths are wonderful as well. I don't take those at home. The best is seeing you in the steam room looking all sweaty and yummy."
"Ah," I said. "I see you're only interested in the carnal affairs."
"Not only," she said, pursing her lips, "but it's there, high on the list."
In the steam room I lay back against the walls and let the heat and moisture cleanse my pores. She leans against my arm with her head, deep inside her own thoughts.
"Have you tried to use Mana yet?" I asked.
She brought her hand up limply, fingers together, until nose high and then she burst her fingers apart, splaying them out. "Boof," she said with a breathy voice. "Nope, no magick yet."
I laughed. Then I brought my hand up and concentrated on my palm. It took a moment. This wasn't exactly my best skill. Then a purple blue swirl became visible. She glanced over and then sat up, looking at the silent violence condensed in my hand.
"I didn't know you could do that," she whispered.
"You can too," I said. "It's not hard."
"She glanced at me, judging the weight she would allow for that conjectured opinion. "Show me?"
We worked on it in the steam room, but she was still frustrated when we returned to the bedroom. She was sitting in bed, continuing to attempt the summoning, as I went outside to let the chill dry me off.
"I did it!" she yelped.
Sticking my head inside the door, I found her sitting on the edge of the bed, a bright and violent swirl of blue and purple in the palm of her hand.
She squealed like a child, delight dancing in her eyes, and laughed as she kicked her feet off the edge of the bed. "So much Yes!"