Nate went over Morgane’s words in his head. With his enhanced intellect, his speed of thought let him mull over ideas and concepts in a fraction of the time it would take others to do so. She had stated she wanted Etrua to be more like Asmuisil. He didn’t know a lot about the different nations, but what he did know was that Asmuisil seemed to invest more in their people and less in their upper class. A stronger base which led to far more crafting and innovation. That wasn’t enough information to go on, so he leaned forward, engaging with the Princess. It was fortunate, he thought, that she was willing to be so open with him due to her perception that he held a Legendary Class.

  “I imagine such views aren’t appreciated by the Etruan Nobility, or perhaps, your family?” he ventured.

  Morgane smiled in such a way that let him know he wasn’t being subtle before answering, “No, they are generally not. Those who have power rarely want to give it up. In fact, I have found that they usually desire more power.”

  “Is that what the other Princes would do? Seize more power for themselves and their allies?” he asked.

  “Thane would maintain the status quo,” replied the Princess evenly. “He is cut from the same mold as our Father. He wouldn’t be the worst to become King, just more of the same. Bordain, however, is an altogether different beast. Bordain believes that our forefathers did not take the idea of concentrating power in the hands of a few far enough. To him, every commoner that is not serving the purposes of the powerful is nothing more than a leech, soaking up and wasting precious mana. If Bordain gains the throne, he will most likely decimate the populace, keeping only enough to keep the nobility fed and in comfort, while expanding and improving the mana gathering arrays. He may even reduce the number of Dungeons in the country to further focus the nation’s mana into higher-tier Dungeons, which would mean culling some of the Nobility.”

  Nate blanched at the thought. Bordain’s view of the world sounded like one of unchecked greed. Like a cancer, growing at the expense of the body, or in this case, the people.

  “He would rule over a nation of corpses,” stated Nate quietly.

  Morgane nodded her agreement. “The powerful are all that matter to him. Which is why he garners even less support among the Nobility than I do. He poses a risk to them, because he might consider many of them, and their resources, their Dungeons and people, expendable. While the weakest Houses throw their support behind me, in the hopes of uplifting themselves through improved trade and the wealth that follows, the strongest throw their support behind Thane, to maintain Etrua as it is, and their positions within it. Only the desperate, or dare I say, insane, support Bordain. But he is strong, so unless Father decides to have him smothered in his sleep, he is a contender for the throne. Which brings us full circle, Nathaniel. You are strong. That makes you valuable. If Thane or my Father catch wind of you, they will want to possess you.”

  “Isn’t that what you want?” Nate interjected.

  “No,” she stated emphatically, golden eyes burning. “While I would like your support, I only want it if you feel the way I do. Perhaps it is naive of me, but if you believe as my Father the King and Prince Thane, or worse, as Prince Bordain, then it would be better if you left my army and returned to the Capital. If you want no part in all this, then you should flee Etrua entirely. Staying will only see you dragged into our politics and conflicts. You could find a better home in Asmuisil or Gashana.”

  Conceptual Insight flickered in the back of his mind, growing in strength for a moment as something about the Concept emanating from the Princess seemed to react to her words.

  While part of his mind kept working away at the question of the Concept she seemed to embody so strongly it was leaking out of her, the rest of his mental faculties focused on her suggestion. The advice seemed honest. Morgane was telling him, without reservation, that if he wanted to avoid the politics and the associated conflicts of the Etruan Nobility, he should flee the country. Perhaps he would, but not yet. Kiri wasn’t ready to leave. Besides, he liked the people in Etrua. His people. Britt, Aisling, Evindal, Luc, Jacque, Cutter, Null…the list went on. Why should he be forced from the home he was making because some Nobles couldn’t mind their own business.

  With a calm look that belied the certainty he felt underneath, he stared into Morgane’s eyes and gave her his answer.

  “I think I will stay.”

  Morganes' smile was pleased, rather than smug, and she stared back, the significance of Nate’s words hanging between them in the air like a palpable force.

  The moment was broken by someone entering the tent, both Morgane and Nate’s heads flicking to the disruption.

  “Apologies, your Highness,” said the short woman who had entered.

  “It is fine, Hildi. Nathaniel, meet Hildi, my maid. Hildi, this is Nathaniel Weber, Gold-ranked of the Adventurer’s Guild.”

  “Well met,” responded Hildi with a slight tilt of her head, before giving Morgane a pointed look.

  Nathaniel nodded in response, and when he turned back to the Princess he realised the moment was gone. Conceptual Insight had settled back down to its typical hum and any revelations into the Concept emanating from Morgane had vanished.

  “So, you’re really just here because of Prefect Allais’s daughter?” asked the Princess, returning to the subject that had seen him invited to her tent.

  “Technically, I am just here because of Kiri. Kiri is here because of Prefect Allais’s daughter.”

  “...Very well,” replied the Princess, motioning for Nate to stand. “If you’re to remain with the Bright Army, I would ask if you might be willing to dine with me occasionally.”

  When Nate stared at her curiously for a moment, uncertain of her reasoning, the Princess explained herself.

  “You are a Legendary Class holder. A crafter. If you are to stay in Etrua, my goals and your own might align. My request is purely political. I won’t force you to do anything. But perhaps we can find common ground. A place where we can help each other.”

  The Princess waited patiently for a response as he considered the offer. She obviously didn’t know the truth of his, or Kiri’s capabilities. But, he thought, he could do worse than find common ground with an individual who wanted to make Etrua more like Asmuisil. He hadn’t decided completely whether to run or stay yet, but if he was going to stay, having Morgane on his side could be beneficial. The risk posed needed more thought, but the Princess wasn’t going to wait for an answer. He could agree now, and run later, if that was the path they chose through the hedges of Etruan politics.

  “Sure, that sounds nice,” he answered, offering a small smile.

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  Princess Morgane nodded, sealing her anti-spying trinket. A moment later, Second-Sword Valis stepped back into the tent.

  “See that Nathaniel is escorted back to his tent,” she commanded the guardsman.

  “As you wish, your Highness,” replied the swordsman, slamming a fist to his breastplate.

  Nate found that the return walk to his tent was no more comfortable than his march to meet the Princess had been. Her suspicions were close enough to the truth to be of concern. Not because the Princess might figure it out, but because if the Princess suspected he held a Legendary Class, others would soon as well. It was only a matter of time before the truth finally got out if he stayed. If the Princess was right and House Desmarais suspected he and Kiri were Legendary Class holders, how long before others started to suspect? Then the offers and threats would truly flow. The Nobility of Etrua or anyone else who considered them a risk or an opportunity would seek to take advantage. Again, he debated if they should flee. Setting him back a few years wouldn’t be the end of the world. What would happen to those he left behind, though?

  Arriving at his tent he found Aisling and Kiri waiting. The discussions stretched late into the evening. Aisling had been concerned and was considering trying to call in Luc. Kiri had clearly been torn, recognising that their safest option was to run but knowing it meant leaving people behind. She had promised to start running the idea by Coralie subtly and made it clear if they did run they would need to get her parents. Jorge and Rania Beaufoy would be uprooted if they ran.

  It just felt like he had no good options. Sitting in his own tent, he looked across at Frick. The blue goblin spirit had been his first friend in Galle. Not his best friend, as it was hard to bridge the gap that was created by the Familiar Contract. But still, the goblin had been a friend.

  “What do you think we should do?” he asked quietly.

  Frick tapped a claw against his lip, “Goblins always run and hide when it gets tough, Boss. It’s how they survive. So, is that what you want? To survive?”

  “Don’t we all?” countered Nate, intentionally misconstruing the question.

  “Of course, but that isn’t what I meant, Boss, and you know it.”

  Nate tilted his head to the side, “I wanted to thrive here.”

  “And you have, Boss. You’ve got powerful friends. Family that you chose. Your wealth is growing exponentially. You’ve got me, the greatest goblin in existence. Now, you have the ear of a Royal.”

  “It’s risky.”

  “Is risk a price you’re willing to accept to continue thriving?” asked his floppy-eared Familiar.

  “Back on Earth, I would have said yes in a heartbeat,” he commented.

  “Back on Earth, you had nothing to lose, Boss. It’s easy to risk everything when you have nothing. Now you’ve got something to lose.”

  “So, what’s the right choice?” Nate asked.

  Frick flashed sharp teeth, smiling at Nate, “The right choice is the one that gets you what you want. So what do you want? To survive or thrive?”

  Nate nodded, letting his thoughts go over his options again and again, mulling on the problem as he crafted his newest rune. His thoughts bled through the night, unable to sleep as he tried unsuccessfully to distract himself with his crafting. Finally, as the sun was rising, Kiri entered his tent. His sister looked concerned and the redness in her eyes and on her cheeks told him she had been crying, torn between her love for him and her love for Coralie, just as he was torn between surviving or risking it all for the possibility of a better tomorrow. Seeing her answered his question finally. On Earth, he’d had a family. He’d had love and support. And then his parents had died and he had been cast adrift. Alone. Surrounded by people, but ultimately, alone. What would he have risked to regain that love and support? What would he have risked to have a family again?

  Looking at Kiri, he smiled sadly and made his decision.

  “We stay.”

  She rushed to him then, moving so fast that she bowled him over and they ended up in a heap, lying on the floor with her crying into his shoulder. He dropped his barrier and recreated it as a half-sphere around them as his sister sobbed into his robe.

  “Thank you,” she kept muttering as he put his arms around her and let her get it out. They all had ways of expressing their emotions. Kiri’s feelings ran hot, be it love, anger, sadness or hatred. His own, well, he had some blank canvases in his spatial storage. His emotions would decorate a new painting, so that he could let them out. Let them see the light. He even knew what Concepts he was going to put into the artwork. Something in his body hummed its agreement as he considered how he was going to juxtapose the three emotions of Calm, Love and Fear.

  *************

  Morgane waited until Nate had left the tent before sending Valis away. Alone with her maid. she activated her scrying ward.

  “What did you find?” she asked Hildi.

  “At least two other Houses seem poised to betray you and there's at least three groups of saboteurs within the conscripts’ camp,” answered her guardian. Her true guardian.

  Morgane was considered the weakest of the contenders for the throne. Her eldest brother, Prince Thane, was over ten years her senior. His age and his emulation of their father, the King, had also seen him blessed with the most access to the birthright of the Royal Family. It was an open secret that he had passed his third Class Evolution, and like their Father, exceeded level one-hundred-and-twenty.

  Bordain, on the other hand, was only a couple of years older than her. He’d been given as much access to their birthright as she had. Yet she had never felt comfortable in his presence. There was something wild and domineering about him, like a beast looking for its next meal. The man lacked the support and obvious power of their brother Thane, but out of the two, Morgane remained far more wary of Bordain.

  Since she lacked the outright might of Thane, or the hinted-at coiled power of Bordain, she had looked elsewhere to build her own power. Soft power. Influence. In her case, information. The goal of gathering information had resulted in her becoming very acquainted with the powerful merchants of Etrua and among their number she had found allies, those who saw the success of Asmuisil as something to be emulated. By simply reducing the amount of mana that flowed to their Dungeons, Etrua’s neighbours had uplifted a large portion of their people. The trade that had flowed saw them wealthier than any other nation in the region, except perhaps Gashana. Gashana was a contender only due to their small population. By capita, citizens of Gashana were more wealthy than that of Asmuisil, but the country's population was less than a tenth of the size.

  With the support of the merchants of Etrua, Morgane had managed to garner some support from the lower Nobility. Other Nobles had flocked to her banner of their own accord. Some, she had bought, plain and simple, through information or coin and mana. The entire time, she expanded her network of informants. But among them, none were better than Hildi, who had been with her since she was a child — a gift from her mother. She hated that word, as though a person could be ‘gifted’ to another, but she did wonder if her mother had some form of foresight. Rumours of such powers had existed since time immemorial, but had never been proven. But Hildi’s Classes did make Morgane wonder if perhaps there was some truth to such rumours.

  “What should we do, Morgane?” asked Hildi, ready to take orders. The woman's loyalty could not be bought. It had been solidified over a lifetime.

  Morgane gave it a moment of thought. She had known her brothers would slip spies and saboteurs into her army. Bordain might even slip in assassins. It would not be the first time someone from her family tried to have her killed.

  “House Beaumont is in place already to deal with the Landins. The Swords will be enough for another House if they make a move. As for the conscripts’ camp…have our forces make the saboteurs disappear. Quietly, if at all possible.”

  Hildi nodded, vanishing out the tent a moment later. Alone in her tent, the Princess wanted to drop the Skill she kept around herself. It was tiring to maintain, but her life was precious enough to her that she could not release it, even when she was certain she was alone. Perhaps, if she asked Nathaniel nicely, he might make her something to bear the load.

  Tilting her head to the side as she deactivated the scrying ward, she began to listen in to her war camp. Requests to the Legendary Crafter would have to wait. She had a battle to plan for. Just not the one everyone thought she was fighting.

  *************

  Arikanvil glanced up as he sensed a small pulse. The mortals were advancing even faster than he had expected. It wouldn’t be long now. He would wait until they were on the precipice. When they could lose everything was when he would make his offer. Reciprocity demanded that much.

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