“What just happened?” Anton asked.

  King Ranon Kalond of Zamara, fourth of his name, looked at Anton with a raised eyebrow. Suliel, sitting next to him, poked her husband in the side

  “Uh, Sire?” Anton added hastily. “Was that a trial?”

  “Not at all,” the King told him. “Trials will be held for the Grey Oaths, and there will be further negotiations with the Wizards’ Guild, but this hearing is to establish the facts.”

  “Isn’t that… what a trial is for? …Sire?” Anton asked, adding the last at another prompt from Suliel.

  “Yes… but a trial is public. It behoves me to know the facts before they become widely known.”

  “I see. Sire.” Anton was at a loss for what to say next. Fortunately, the King took charge of the conversation.

  “So! Who do I see before me? I’d call you a promising young lad, were it not that you are already married and in your third Tier.”

  “It’s been an eventful year, sire,” Anton said helplessly.

  “You’re no doubt hoping it will slow down soon,” the King said. “The truth is, you can’t afford to rest.”

  “I can’t?” Anton exclaimed in dismay. “Sire?”

  The King chuckled indulgently. “You know that each level comes harder, but you don’t feel it yet. No matter what you do, your pace will slow. But if you don’t do enough, it will come to a halt. Where do you plan to go from here?”

  “Go? I—” Anton thought about it. “I don’t know. I rushed back because Suliel was in danger, and every part of my life has been like that since the raid. I have a barony that I grew up in, but I’ve barely seen it since I took charge. It needs… so much, but I don’t even know what. I… I…”

  “Enough,” the King said. “I’m not averse to you returning to Kirido, though I doubt you’ll stay there for long. Events have a way of reaching people with destinies.”

  “Thanks—I mean, thank you, your Majesty,” Anton said. “Does that mean my title is confirmed?”

  “Not quite yet,” the King said. His demeanour changed. In an instant, the warmth flowed out of him. He still smiled, but it was colder and more cruel. “There are a few details to be sorted out.”

  Then it was back to warmth. Anton would have thought he was imagining the changes, but Suliel clutched at his arm. It would have been painful if he’d been someone else. He looked down to see her lips were pressed together with anxiety.

  “The first matter is a minor one,” the King said. “Your wife made certain representations about providing some of the new weapons to our forces.”

  “I—” Anton started. He paused because Suliel was still holding on to him. He reached across with his other arm and laid his hand on hers reassuringly. “I’m sure that whatever Suliel told you is correct,” he said.

  “So quickly? You’re not even going to ask what they were?” the King asked.

  Anton took a deep breath and made sure to speak carefully. “I’m sure that Your Majesty isn’t going to lie about what she said, and that is the only concern I could possibly have.”

  The King didn’t respond, so Anton went on to clarify. “She has far greater knowledge than I of both the politics involved and the process of making the guns. I’d be a fool to contradict her.”

  Was that what Suliel had been worried about? She was still holding on to him, but her grip had relaxed slightly. He quickly looked down at her. Her lips were still pressed tight, but he thought he detected a smile. It was hard to tell against her sandalwood skin, but he thought she was blushing.

  “I see,” the King said. “Then let us move on to your dispute with the Wizard’s Guild.”

  “I’m not sure, Sire, what issue they have with me,” Anton said. “Magister Tikin fought against us during the… events. He was exiled and I understand if he holds a grudge against us. Is that enough for the Guild to act as it has?”

  “Perhaps. Perhaps it has to do with the questions, your wife has been asking, or tasking others to ask.”

  Anton looked at Suliel. “Is it wrong to ask questions? Sire?”

  “That does depend on the question. The Wizards’ Guild have many secrets they’d like kept quiet.”

  “Secrets about dungeons?” Anton asked, belatedly adding, “Sire.”

  “Of course. Dungeons are the source of their power, after all. I understand you know many things about dungeons that Wizards would prefer you didn’t.”

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  “Is that… something you want me to tell you about, Your Majesty?” Anton asked.

  “Now, that would anger the Guild.” The King spoke the words approvingly, but he shook his head as he did so. “I said this audience wasn’t public, but it’s not exactly private, is it?”

  He gestured at the shadowed alcoves and at the men sitting at the table with him.

  “The people here can serve as witnesses for those topics that need to be proclaimed while keeping silent on matters best kept quiet. They serve my purposes, not the Guild’s. The wizards would be quite upset if my servants knew what you know.”

  “I’m confused. Sire. I don’t know what you want me to say.”

  “Just answer the questions. Such as: Is there a connection between the Guild’s recent antics and the murder in my palace?”

  “Murder, Sire?” Anton asked.

  “Your wife must have filled you in. A wizard was stabbed in my very palace. A very severe breach of my peace—in my very home.”

  An intensity had built up around the King. The warm and friendly uncle had vanished again, and the cold seemed to flow from the King and surround Anton in ice.

  “I did hear a report about it,” Anton admitted. He looked down at Suliel. She seemed… angry, now. She was hiding it, but he could see it in her eyes.

  “Then tell me,” the King said, his voice like stone. Anton could feel the pressure building, forcing him to answer. “Did your wife have anything to do with it?”

  This is the King’s charisma, Anton finally realised. He’d never had it used against him before. Suliel had mentioned the pressure, but she had said that the King had held back the full effect. He had gone easier on her because it would cause trouble with the other nobles if the King was in the habit of bullying them.

  He wasn’t going easy on Anton.

  But Anton was Unwavering.

  “No, Your Majesty,” he said calmly. “I don’t believe that she did.”

  And just like that, the pressure was gone. Anton took a deep breath. He saw that the prince was frowning, but the others at the table had schooled their expressions before he could look.

  “Very well,” the King said. “Let us move on to the attack on your property. What compensation do you seek from… the Guild, should it prove responsible?”

  “Should it… Your Majesty, didn’t you just say that they were the ones attacking me?”

  The King waved his hand dismissively. “As you heard before, they intend to scapegoat this Corbraith fellow. It remains to be seen if we shall accept that.”

  “You don’t… already know?” Anton asked.

  “Ah, it is a complex matter, ruling a kingdom,” the King sighed. “This is not the only point of contention between ourselves and the Guild. As negotiations proceed, I may seek concessions from them in other areas in return for accepting their story about a traitor. You see?”

  “I… think so,” Anton said doubtfully.

  “You will learn. The balancing of necessity with justice is easier for a Baron, but the same kinds of decisions have to be made. Now, reparations.”

  “You’re talking about payment in coin, is that right Sire?” Anton asked. When the King nodded, he shrugged. “I’m not familiar with the politics of the matter, or what would be an appropriate amount. I’d rather accept whatever Your Majesty thinks is fair.”

  “That certainly leaves me with negotiating room,” the King said approvingly. “But it might well leave you feeling shortchanged.”

  “Perhaps, when I’ve been living in a castle for a year, it will seem that way,” Anton said. “But right now, it feels like I’ve been handed more wealth than I know what to do with. What I really want from them… is for the attacks to stop. Can you negotiate for that?”

  “I can’t,” the King admitted. “Oh, I could get them to promise it, but the attacks are already outside of the law. If their oaths to the Kingdom didn’t stop them before, new oaths won’t help.”

  “Forgive me, Your Majesty, but why do you tolerate such disrespect?” Anton asked.

  “Wizards are needed,” the King said. “It’s not that they possess a power greater than their Tier, but they have so many ways they can use it. Scrying Classes are rare. Weather control is rare. Wards for privacy and protection can only be done by mages… there are so many things they are needed for, that some accommodations must be made.”

  But you’re the King, is what Anton wanted to say. Some part of him wanted to insist on the simple truth that the King was in charge and everyone had to do what he said. However, Anton knew that wasn’t true. He’d lied to the King only a little while ago!

  That’s because he could be a false King, was the simple rejoinder. But again, the adult part of Anton knew that even a true King could give orders that Anton would not follow. There had to be a check against his power, or he would rule as a tyrant.

  “Now, let us talk about that boat of yours,” the King said. “I’ve heard very interesting things about it.”

  “I think I should start by saying the boat requires a special fuel that can only be made in the dungeon,” Anton said quickly.

  “What is this fuel, and in what quantity can Kirido supply it?”

  Anton looked at Suliel who had kept quiet through all this. Anton wasn’t sure why, it was either because she was playing the role of the dutiful wife, or because of some formal ettiquette requirement.

  At his urging, she spoke up. “The dungeon says that it is a special type of oil that is thinner than water and burns twice as hot as lamp oil. She has no plans to increase production and says that widespread use would risk…” She frowned. “The destruction of human society through temperature increases?”

  “I… don’t know what to say to that.” the King said.

  “She says… that it was a temporary solution to an emergency situation. Better solutions exist and are under development.”

  “Perhaps we should revisit this discussion then. I gather we can look forward to many developments with Kirido and its dungeon.”

  Suliel bowed her head. “If the gods allow.”

  The King paused for a moment, and then shook his head slightly. “Well, Lord Nos, it seems that my questions have been answered. I am hardly in a position to claim that someone with a Heroic Class is unfit to rule, so my final question is simply this. Will you serve under me?”

  “I don’t—” Anton stopped unable to articulate what he was trying to say. “I don’t know, Your Majesty. What does Nobility’s Privledge say of me?”

  “That you are independant. Not all that rare, in the wider scheme of things, but vanishingly so when it comes to my nobles and the Court. More common amoung heroes, of course.”

  “I suppose it would be,” Anton agreed. “I’m sure it has changed a few times over this year. Not because I’ve been fickle, but because I’ve learned so much about the world and my place in it. I don’t think I can go against my own heart when it sets a course.”

  Suliel poked him, but Anton had to continue.

  “With that said, I don’t think you are the type to give me orders I can’t follow. So I will serve as your baron, if you’ll allow it.”

  “You will uphold my laws, fight in this nations defence?”

  “I will,” Anton said firmly. This, at least, he had no problems with.

  “Then go forth a baron of this land, Lord Anton Nos. Manage your desmene wisely and well in my name.”