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Chapter 122: All That Glitters
🕑 Added 2023-07-09 02:12:22 +0000 UTCThe Golden Prince was a man who saw the beauty in everything. Because he was everything. That was neither arrogance nor conceitedness. Just a simple statement of fact.
Nobody existed outside of the Golden Prince’s world, for the simple reason that he alone lived in it.
A world where people were props as dull as the magic mirror on his cabin wall.
He looked at his reflection. Still immensely handsome, still ruggedly chiselled. But also very disappointingly hard to see.
He’d asked the spirit within who the most handsome of them all was. She was unable to answer, instead falling out of the glass as she attempted to offer herself to him. The mirror was never the same afterwards. A pity. He’d almost died to a nun for it. But he should’ve known better.
Whereas mermaids excluded their [Charm] with sonorous voices, the Golden Prince did so with his very presence.
To be both a dashing prince and a handsome rogue was, frankly, outrageously unfair. He made women swoon with a flick of his hair and men offer their loyalty with a slap on the back.
Loyalty, he knew, which was never certain amongst pirates–even with his charisma.
That’s what the crowns were for.
The chests of it in the hold, in his cabin, and in his pockets for when a smile and a slap just wasn’t enough. And it never was.
Because if growing up behind Roemont’s Bar in the backstreets of Old Port had taught him anything, it was that loyalty was a commodity and gold was its price.
His smile?
That simply made it cheaper.
Considerably cheaper.
Enough to buy his own ship. His own crew. His own fleet.
A unique accomplishment for one who had learned to swim through the grime and filth of Old Port’s gutters before even touching the sea.
Truthfully, he didn’t feel it was so bad. He missed it. Sometimes. When the nights were long and the wind had fallen shy of his sails. Life was simpler then. Not easier. But simpler. He didn’t need to command a fleet.
And he didn’t need to deal with young ladies suddenly appearing in his chair, toying with his favourite clay model of a frost dragon.
That was annoying.
He’d purchased it personally from a hooded man in Tirea. An oddly cloak-and-daggers way of selling a simple figurine, but given his own line of work, it seemed fated that everyone he dealt with was a scoundrel of some kind.
And this girl, he knew, was the worst of them.
“A fine game you play,” she said, the mismatched colours of her eyes reflected in the dim mirror. “Loitering around the shores of a small kingdom with neither riches nor a navy. One would almost think you were wasting your time.”
The Golden Prince sent an unhurried glance at the uninvited guest.
Dark hair and pale skin. Smiling lips as scarlet as running blood.
A girl whose attire was modelled after a casino. And yet it was more appropriate for a circus. Or perhaps the less than reputable cabaret clubs frequented by his sailors, given the way she wore it.
“The Dealer,” he stated simply. “I was informed you kept strictly to the shadows.”
The Dealer lifted up the clay figurine, a ruby eye closed as she carefully studied the base of the dragon.
“A mystery once revealed cannot be withdrawn. It took daylight shining upon a roof and an enchanted elven sword to finally coax the shadows away. And time. So much time. I have little wish to return after so much hardship excavating myself … hm, the detailing on this is quite exquisite.”
The Golden Prince furrowed his brows in puzzlement.
Still, he felt no need to press for an explanation.
The lack of shadows may be new, but the lack of clarity in her words were not.
Instead, he went to his cabinet.
Then, ignoring the myriad of weaponry placed within, he reached for a bottle of Châteaux Liran-Tuilhem de Vin Lingot. He poured two glasses. One for himself. The other also for himself.
“I suppose you would prefer me to loiter around shores further south?” he queried, savouring the sip almost as much as the girl’s silent surprise at his muted reaction–even if she did not show it. “How goes your little spat with the Dune King, I wonder?”
The Dealer put down the figurine, likely treating it with more care than any living person she’d dealt with.
“Lotus House has no diplomatic contact with the Dune King.”
The Golden Prince gestured around his empty cabin with both glasses.
“Really? Even here?”
“Especially here.”
The Golden Prince almost wished to feign indignation as the Dealer pointed towards the door.
He didn’t.
The ears of pirates were keen and their lips loose. And depending on how this meeting went, its contents would be known before this girl even left.
Instead, he took a sip from his nearest glass, then the other. A fine vintage to relax to. And also to brave a jab from this girl of endless mysteries.
He never did know when to quit.
“The last I heard, you were present in Ninstrum. A shame about the explosion. The Dune King’s northern jewel was always a city keen to look the other way.”
“Yes. A shame indeed. I fervently hope the perpetrators are found and soon brought to justice.”
“Perpetrators with access to alchemical wildfire brewed in Granholtz?”
“Perpetrators with an eye for infrastructure renovations. Ninstrum’s fires have been extinguished. And now a sewage system previously not fit for purpose has been replaced. The incident was a fine blessing.”
The Golden Prince drained the last from his two glasses, then picked up the bottle instead. He’d likely need another.
“I’m sure the townsfolk who were crushed by flaming debris agree as their corpses enjoy the new sewage canals. And so how may I help you in a way which won’t have me experiencing the same disproportionate fate? At the very least, I’d like it if my good looks were not endangered. It’s my only feature, you see.”
“A discourtesy. Your ability to be a minor nuisance to small kingdoms also qualifies.”
“Really now, I hardly view holding a kingdom’s ports hostage as minor, small or otherwise.”
“A matter of perspective. But this can be changed. Should you wish to prove a greater nuisance, an opportunity is available to work closely with one of the least trustworthy secret organisations available, with utterly no benefit in return.”
The Golden Prince smiled.
“An offer spoken verbatim from the woman at the top. Are her favourite hounds now truly seeking to hire me?”
“Hire? No. We have a reputation to uphold. We may be without ethics. But we’re not pirates.”
A moment of silence passed as the Golden Prince frowned into his bottle of wine.
Then, he shrugged.
“A fair point. Please continue.”
“We seek an understanding.”
“A warning, then.”
“I’m relieved you understand.”
The Dealer began pulling out drawers from his desk, almost absent-mindedly. He winced as she picked up the clay model of a fruit slime. It’d come with the dragon as a set.
“And what have I done to earn Lotus House’s fangs?” he asked before she could comment. “I am, after all, but a simple pirate.”
“Not a simple pirate. A disappointing one. Your leisurely blockade of this tiny kingdom’s shores is amusing, but dull. Whatever ransoms you hope to collect shall need to be sought through more persuasive arguments than harassing fishermen.”
“My leisurely pace works for me and the ships under my command. This constitutes a fine holiday for all involved, including said fishermen. I see little reason to assent to your request for expediency. I do not work for Lotus House. Or the Grand Duch–”
The Dealer held a finger to her lips.
Though she smiled, there was nothing but the cold promise of an early demise in her mismatched eyes should he finish that sentence.
“Yet others do,” she replied easily. “In Lissoine, many feel the presence of a pirate fleet so close to their waters to be untenable.”
“Truly? I can’t imagine why.”
“Conversations are being held to trespass upon Tirea’s sovereignty. All to remove you. They have little hope in this kingdom’s expensive plan to entice adventurers to sweep your … fleet aside. The conversations may become deeply uncomfortable for you should you continue to loiter endlessly.”
The Golden Prince chuckled.
“Ah, that woman. Always the stick before the carrot. Where is my tithe of crowns? An offer to induct me into her navy? A commodore’s commission could tempt me. Although in truth, it would take the prospect of command over a first-rate vessel to truly earn my loyalty.”
“That will not happen. You would, after all, simply steal it.”
“Because I’m a pirate from the Principalities?”
“Because the ship we are currently conversing on is the flagship of the Kingdom of Weinstadt. And it was offered to you in return for defeating the rebelling captains who have seized the remainder of their fleet. A task you’ve yet to accomplish.”
The Golden Prince nodded.
Put like that, he truly was quite the untrustworthy scoundrel.
“To be a privateer without pay is a less enticing role than I’d hoped. Tell me, why does Lotus House take an interest in these shores? It is, as you say, not a kingdom of riches.”
The Dealer held up the fruit slime figurine. She made no comment. Understandable. There was only so much even a clay master could do for a round monster, after all.
Or so the Golden Prince thought.
“For its marvellous art pieces, what else?”
“Excuse me?”
“A mere fruit slime. But it’s exquisite, no? The shape caught in the midst of a bounce. The eyes lifelike with fear, as though caught before a trampling basilisk and left as stone in its wake.”
He accepted the girl’s odd response with a polite smile.
No true answer was expected. He was a tool, after all.
Everyone to work with Lotus House was. Perhaps even its own members. And all for the Grand Duchess who presided over it.
“I purchased it from a vendor in Reitzlake when I was being especially leisurely,” he said lightly. “But if figurines are all you desire, then I’d be delighted to personally escort you through its bustling markets. Hopefully, before it mysteriously also finds itself enveloped in flames.”
Knock. Knock.
The Golden Prince glanced at the door to his quarters.
His words asking his next guest to wait were already forming when he paused, before swiftly returning his attention to the girl in his chair.
Gone.
The Dealer was gone. As was her famed way.
The Golden Prince couldn’t help but offer a smile of envy.
Mysterious entrances and exits. Words with meaning but little sense. Now that was never his forte. Crowds of giggling admirers ensured that mystery hung around his shoulders as well as shadows over dunes.
Yet even if that precocious girl had gone, her threat had not. He would be required to fulfil his part in whatever schemes the Grand Duchess wished before too long.
If not, his next visit would not be by a scarecrow, but by a true monster in the closet.
“... Enter.”
With no hint of the girl ever having visited, he called towards the door.
It opened to the sight of his chief officer carefully balancing a silver headpiece in his palms. A tiara. One as fine as the ruby jewels which were inlaid upon it.
Still, what caught his attention the most was his officer. Yet again, the Golden Prince almost failed to recognise him without his bandages. A poor showing on his part. The burns were not as bad as they were made out to be, yet without them, his officer almost seemed a different man.
As his confidante walked inside, his puzzled expression was reflected in the gleam of the polished metal.
“Am I disturbing anything, Captain? I believe I heard voices.”
“Merely speaking with a ghost, Chief Tinsley. Pay it no mind.”
“Yes, sir.”
He wordlessly presented the tiara.
“Is that what I believe it is?” asked the Golden Prince, eyes twinkling as the memory of his uninvited guest began to leave.
“Possibly, though none of us have the expertise to identify it out of hand. It does, however, match what was described. The deckhands found it combing the vale beyond Trierport. Some were lost to patrols.”
The Golden Prince smiled.
Nothing ventured. Nothing gained.
And nothing was greater than blood.
“Thank you for bringing this to me. Please inform the crew that shoreleave will be extended for another four days–after tonight’s festivities.”
“I shall, captain.”
Chief Tinsley bowed before he left.
Only when the door had closed did the Golden Prince study the silver tiara.
With this, he had completed the last of the puzzle. Even if filling it had resulted in excavating quite the number of holes.
And enemies. Lots and lots of enemies. And he’d make more in the days ahead.
Still, he was not master and commander of so many ships without a penchant for risk. And he had enough love for it to put those who frequented the tables of Lotus House to shame.
Sadly for the Dealer, he wouldn’t fold quite yet.
He chuckled as he toyed with the headpiece which would complete his royal flush.
The winnings which awaited couldn’t be matched by any threats.
After all, while it was one thing to be a pet, it was quite another to be a king.
Thus, he checked himself in the dim mirror once more, caressing a single strand of his luscious hair before walking to the door adjoining his cabin with his private chamber. The one now being occupied by his beloved.
He could not conquer lands, true.
But he could conquer a maiden’s heart.
And it was time to inform his bride-to-be that the ceremony could now be hastened.
Comments
Tarmandan
Now that I had a day to think about the chapter, the hints are all there. It gotta be a figurine. A masterpiece made by the mysterious crafter. Who most definitely will have based the figurine on his sister Juliette, leading to the golden prince thinking his gift made his waifu materialise because the moment he presents the crown a certain princess will knock on his door. That's the subtle hint in the fruit slime. The fruit slime that is in absolut terror and not mid bounce but mid being overturned (if it was furniture). And it does not go with the frost dragon as a set but with the sword wielding princess figurine.
MrAcerulez
I half suspect that the prince is delusional and ugly as sin
