Heretic Spellblade 2 Page 12

  “That would be delightful,” Alice said.

  Leopold glared at the princess, who ignored him. “Your Imperial Highness—”

  “Uncle, please. Can you just call me Alice, like you do normally? You call Grandpa by his name.”

  “Need I remind you that Lady Narime is from a foreign power. And it would be greatly remiss of me not to pay you the required respects of your position,” Leopold said, undeterred. “I always pay His Majesty the same courtesy in public.”

  “How stuffy,” Alice said.

  “You’re in a very stuffy room,” Narime said. “And dealing with a very stuffy situation. High Lord Torneus won’t be interested in giving you either respect or friendship.”

  Alice frowned and took a seat. Nathan’s seat, in fact. A wolfgirl swept in and poured her a cup of coffee, then froze when the princess shot her a thankful smile.

  Even the beastkin were affected by royalty, apparently. Then again, most of them had never imagined they would get within a hundred miles of a member of the Imperial family.

  “I know how to play the role of Imperial Princess,” Alice said. “I just prefer to be more personal. Things get done a lot faster when people aren’t hiding behind rank and hierarchy. When half the words out of somebody’s mouth are blather to appease others, instead of anything of substance, meetings tend to accomplish tremendously little. The Diet is the mess it is because of that.”

  Leopold said nothing. He gestured for Nathan to take a seat next to him, where Seraph had sat.

  But Nathan had other ideas.

  He stepped forward and said, “Your Highness, you’re thinking about your position the wrong way.”

  “Am I?” Alice said. “It’s hard to believe that when you’re ignoring my request to call me by my name.”

  He ignored her. “Your title and rank are your sword and shield. Your opponents are forced to show deference to you, and you can punch holes in arguments with a single sentence.”

  “Because I’m the princess. Not because I’m right,” Alice said flatly.

  “You need to be both when dealing with a foreign power,” Nathan said.

  Alice’s eyes narrowed.

  “If I tell the Federation that this war is a terrible mistake, they won’t pay any attention. Because I’m only a Bastion. Lady von Clair had the same issue. They only listened because Archduke von Milgar supported her, with Narime’s backing within the Federation.” Nathan paused, waiting for Alice to acknowledge what he meant. She nodded after a few seconds.

  He continued, “But if we show up and say nonsense, it won’t matter. The Federation is a sovereign nation. They can do whatever they want. Your position gets a foot in the door. But in the end, it’s your words that must convince them. It’s different in the Diet, but there’s a reason the Emperor didn’t send any random noble off to negotiate with Falmir.”

  “You sound like Grandpa,” Alice said, although her expression was relaxed. “Both of them. But I’ve never heard it described as a sword and shield. I suppose that’s the sort of thing that comes from a soldier.”

  Leopold gave Nathan an odd look and gestured for him to take a seat again. This time, he followed the direction.

  “It’s not my analogy,” Nathan admitted. “An old friend taught it to me.”

  An old friend who knew nothing about Nathan right now. Nathan was borrowing a lot of Gareth’s techniques and wisdom.

  Alice looked thoughtfully at Nathan for a few seconds, a finger on her lips. Then she shrugged. They began to update her on the current situation.

  Midway through, the door burst open again. A buxom dark elf burst in, wearing far too little for safe combat. A hand gripped the elf’s shoulder, and she winced.

  “What did I say earlier?” Seraph said darkly.

  “Fuck—” Nurevia began to say, before spotting Alice and cutting herself off. “I never agreed to that.”

  “You’ve tried to pick more fights with Nathan’s Champions than I did when I was his enemy,” Seraph said. “Do so again and I won’t ask nicely.”

  Nurevia glared at Seraph, and the olive-skinned Champion glared back. It almost seemed that lightning crackled between them.

  Nurevia looked exactly as Nathan remembered her, and it didn’t matter if he was using his implanted memories or those from his original timeline. Dark elves stopped aging as an adult and lived for up to two hundred years. Nurevia had never admitted how old she was, but Nathan suspected she was relatively young.

  But that still meant she was older than Nathan, even if she didn’t look a day older than twenty. She wore a black cloak, a leather vest that showed off her significant cleavage and left most of her torso uncovered, a pair of black hot pants, and knee-high leather boots. A terrible outfit for a Champion who wanted to protect themselves, but perfect for Nurevia.

  “Um, is there a problem?” Alice asked, her eyes flicking between the two Champions.

  “Nope,” Nurevia said. She sashayed over to Alice’s side, her eyes locked onto Nathan.

  “There had best not be,” Leopold said. “Or I will send you back to Bastion Tharban’s side.”

  “Oh, but it’s my duty to look after the lost members of my master’s family, right, Nathan?” Nurevia said with a smirk.

  “If I were part of Tharban’s family anymore,” Nathan said, leaning his face on one hand.

  “Oh, has something happened?” Nurevia’s smirk widened.

  “Play games all you like, but I don’t need to care about them,” Nathan said. Nurevia blinked. “You’re in my domain, and this county is my responsibility. If you harm, or try to harm, any of my Champions or anyone under my protection, then there won’t be enough of you left for Tharban to denigrate anymore.”

  The room fell silent. Alice’s mouth fell open in shock.

  Nurevia’s smirk vanished, but she didn’t glare at Nathan. “Well, you certainly found your backbone down here. Did somebody implant a steel spine in you at the academy?”

  “Enough,” Leopold said. “You can handle the von Straub family issues in private. But I will back Bastion Nathan’s declaration. You are here to protect Her Imperial Highness. Stray from that direction and I have reason to allow you to stay.”

  “Bastion Nathan, huh,” Nurevia muttered. “Well, I guess the cute little boy had to grow up at some point.”

  With those words, she retreated to a corner of the room. Seraph watched every step the dark elf took before taking a seat of her own next to Nathan.

  He noticed the way that Seraph glared at the coffee mugs and ran her fingers over their rims. His hand slipped over her thigh. She looked at him.

  “Let’s have a chat after this,” he murmured.

  She nodded in response. Her hands retreated from the table and instead ran over his fingers.

  The briefing resumed and finished with little of note happening.

  “You mentioned High Lord Torneus earlier, but he’s not coming,” Alice noted. “I assume that’s a problem?”

  “A significant problem,” Nathan said. “He’s the architect of the war. If he’s not present at the negotiations, then they’re a waste of time.”

  Alice mouthed a few words to herself, before saying, “I think I understand your sword and shield analogy from earlier, Nathan. In other words, I should use my title as a sword to force Torneus out from hiding. He won’t be able to ignore an Imperial Princess without greatly weakening his position in the Federation, will he?”

  “Exactly,” Nathan said.

  Leopold once again gave Nathan an odd look but remained silent.

  “I still don’t quite know how I use it as a shield. I guess I can practice that part,” Alice said. “I’ve never negotiated with an enemy before.”

  Narime stared at Alice in disbelief. “You haven’t?”

  “Should I have?” Alice tilted her head.

  Given she had barged into this meeting and forced everybody to accept her as the chief diplomat, Nathan imagined some assumptions had been made.


  Whatever the case, Princess Alice now led the negotiations. Nathan now had a tool to force Torneus out from hiding, even if he knew nothing about that tool.

  And he also had another princess he wanted to meet.

  Seraph’s fingers ran along his wrist as the meeting ended, and Nathan’s mind returned to the present. First, he needed to deal with the current problem.

  Chapter 12

  Nurevia winked at Nathan as he stepped out of the meeting room. He gave her a bland look and tugged Seraph out by her hand.

  Behind him, he trusted Leopold to keep things under control. The elderly Bastion cared deeply for Alice, from both political and personal perspectives. He was “Uncle Leopold” to Alice, and Nathan doubted there was anyone else in Doumahr who called him by such an affectionate name.

  Unless one of Leopold’s Champions was kinkier than he realized. Nathan didn’t know them very well, as they kept a low profile when visiting.

  At the very least, Nathan doubted that Nurevia would pull anything. There was no love lost between the dark elf and Tharban. Nurevia might be one of his father’s Champions, but the reasons were complicated.

  Well, not complicated. Mostly just odd. Nurevia was a twisted woman. There was no other way to describe a woman who willingly served a man who hated her.

  Tharban despised non-humans, and dark elves were no exception. The reason Nathan had been disowned by his family was because he was too friendly with the beastkin under his rule. Even now, he suspected a lot of his father’s hatred for him was because of his actions. A beastkin Champion; open support for beastkin soldiers and knights; siding with Leopold and Emperor Gorthal, who had ended slavery in the Empire.

  Despite that, Nurevia was Tharban’s willing puppet. Things had changed in Nathan’s timeline, but his implanted memories of her from this timeline were far from positive.

  He had faded scars on his back from her treatment of him. Nobody commented on them, as scars were common for many. Fei had more than a few that he never remarked on, most likely from hunts that had gone wrong. Commenting on someone’s scars was simply not done, given everybody knew that life was harsh.

  But everyone remembered what caused their scars, and although the implanted memories weren’t truly his, they still affected him.

  It probably didn’t help that Nurevia had never been his favorite Champion.

  “That expression of yours suggests that you don’t like her either,” Seraph muttered as they walked up a staircase to his office.

  “I have a lot of history with her,” Nathan said.

  “She’s a bitch,” Seraph said. “I’m amazed that somebody who hates non-humans as much as your father can stand somebody like her.”

  “Really? I’d argue that he puts up with her because of that,” he replied. “After all, what better way to show your superiority than to put somebody like Nurevia in their place.”

  Seraph fell silent, her expression darkening. As they reached Nathan’s office, she spoke again, “She’s a duogem Champion, and a little too spunky to simply take that sort of thing. There’s something else, isn’t there?”

  “Let’s just say that you’re seeing a very different side of her than she shows to Tharban,” Nathan said, grimacing.

  “And does she want that from you?” Seraph asked.

  Nathan looked at her in surprise. Her expression was serious.

  “She hates me,” Nathan said. “I am everything that my father isn’t.”

  “You were, maybe.” Seraph smirked. “She seemed shocked when you threatened her. Was that a first?”

  It was. At least in this timeline.

  Even if Seraph had a point, Nathan had no reason to pursue it. Nurevia belonged to Tharban, and laying hands on another Bastion’s Champion was both incredibly insulting and dangerous. Tharban could use it as an excuse to challenge him to a duel, or even have him removed as Bastion if he had the political support.

  One day, Tharban might cease to a problem. Or he might need to be tackled head-on. But until then, Nurevia could taunt, tease, and be as annoying as she liked.

  Nathan pushed the door to his office open after unlocking it, and a squeak came from within it. A guilty catgirl looked up from where she was sitting in his seat, her fingers firmly ensconced in her pants.

  “This isn’t what I meant by calming down,” Seraph said grumpily. She pushed past Nathan and pulled Fei from the chair.

  Fei stared at the ground despondently while Seraph tidied her up.

  “Is the medication not working?” Nathan asked. It had been a few nights since she had first intruded on him, and she had seemed normal when she had been interested in “playtime.”

  “It is, but…” Fei trailed off, and wouldn’t look Nathan in the eye.

  “Medication?” Seraph asked.

  Nathan closed the office door. “She’s rutting. The medication should allow her to act normally, but this doesn’t look normal.”

  “Can’t say I’m much of a beastkin expert.” Seraph shrugged. “But things got rather nasty by the time I arrived. Nurevia was hurling insults about you and saying a lot of things that would be unwise to say to your host. But as Fei got more and more riled up, I’d say the bitch’s words became more abusive. And she was laser-focused on you.”

  Yeah, that was the sort of thing that went down poorly when a beastkin was in the middle of their rutting.

  Both genders of beastkin rutted. Most thought that male beastkin were the most dangerous, as they became extremely protective of the woman they chose, even when taking the medication.

  In truth, female beastkin were just as violently protective. Nurevia knew this and had been provoking Fei. Without the medication, Fei would have tried to murder Nurevia on the spot.

  “It’s fine, Fei,” Nathan said.

  “I’m supposed to be your Champion aren’t I? How can I be, if I can’t control myself?” Fei said, eyes on the verge of tears.

  “You’re still my Champion, and you controlled yourself better than my father’s Champion.” Nathan frowned when Fei didn’t react. He gripped her chin. “Look at me. A duogem Champion broke countless rules of civility and tried to start a fight. You held back. That makes you better than her, even though she is a duogem. I can’t ask for anything more.”

  Fei sobbed and held out her arms. Nathan pulled her into his embrace and let her nuzzle her face against his chest. She alternated between sobs and purrs, her bushy tail swishing erratically behind her.

  After a long minute, Fei settled down but didn’t leave Nathan’s arms. By now, her scent from earlier had crept into his nose, but he ignored it. He needed to handle Seraph before he did anything with his cat.

  “Was there anything else?” Nathan asked Seraph, running a hand through Fei’s hair.

  “She knew that I was from the Federation, and had some choice words,” Seraph said. She shrugged. “They didn’t really bite, but I’ll admit that I don’t appreciate being a weak link.”

  “You’re not.”

  Seraph gave him a sardonic smile, as if to say that he didn’t need to give her empty words.

  “I mean it,” Nathan said. “I don’t give a damn what Tharban and his Nationalist douchebags plan to do.” He paused. “No, I do, but I don’t care about their political moves. You’ve more than proven your loyalty and ability as my Champion. If I can’t handle some political nonsense from my half-baked Bastion of a father, then I don’t deserve to be a Bastion at all.”

  Seraph snorted, then let out raucous peals of laughter. “You’re always so over the top. Although I can appreciate it. I still remember you offering me atonement with a straight face, as if you were some sort of holy knight.”

  “I am a Bastion.”

  “It’s been centuries since anybody has really thought of Bastions as the swords of the goddess.” Seraph smiled at him, but it was a gentle smile. “You’re oddly genuine about things. I suppose that’s what separates you from Torneus, even if you are scheming and manipulating your way toward a long-t
erm goal. I at least know you haven’t lost your way. But I will say one thing.”

  Nathan waited patiently to hear it, but she didn’t speak. Fei peeked out from his chest and looked at Seraph with wide eyes. Her cat ears pricked upward in anticipation.

  “Do you have to do this every time?” Nathan asked.

  “Oh, so you are interested?” Seraph said. She smirked, then leaned inward. “If every Bastion was held to your standard, then we wouldn’t have many Bastions on Doumahr. So maybe don’t go around saying that you don’t deserve to be a Bastion, hmm? I’d rather a slightly lesser Nathan, than a thousand Theuses or Tharbans.”

  With those words, Seraph ducked in and pecked Nathan on the cheek. Her hand slipped between him and Fei and rubbed along his already hardened cock. She grinned.

  Seraph gave Nathan a wink and sashayed out of his office, her figure-hugging cheongsam helping her curves stick out.

  The door slammed shut after her. Nathan stared at it for several seconds.

  Then a certain catgirl bit him, and he yelped.

  “Nathan,” Fei whined. She had lowered her uniform, revealing her crotch. “I know I’m on the medication, but…”

  Her eyes glazed over, and the room flooded with her scent. Her legs were slick with her juices and her lower lips called for his personal attention.

  “Just this once,” Nathan said. “You need to control it a bit better if you want to come to the negotiations.”

  “Of course,” Fei purred before her moans of pleasure filled the office.

  Chapter 13

  Nathan found himself intensely frustrated on the ride to the negotiations.

  It wasn’t due to any issues with the negotiations themselves. Or even due to Nurevia’s constant needling. The last time the dark elf had tried to publicly insult him, Fei had tripped her, and she had ended up covered in Fei’s dinner. Gravy and sausages had poured down Nurevia’s open top in the aftermath.

  Nathan couldn’t even complain about his sex life, although it had changed due to necessity. It only took one close encounter with Alice to ban his Champions from getting handsy in his office. The princess liked to barge in on him unannounced, and a closed door meant nothing.