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Chapter 119: The Lowest Expectations
🕑 Added 2023-07-01 21:58:44 +0000 UTCThey wouldn’t let me borrow a cannon.
Unfortunate. The effects of a cannon would be simpler for any wandering maids to dust away than every alternative I wished to bring onto this place.
It was interesting. I could feel a pulse throbbing in my temple. Was that good? Likely not. Each time I witnessed Mother with that same vein flaring up, it often came accompanied by the sound of a mathematics textbook being slammed down.
And if I was lucky, upon a table.
But unlike Mother, my disappointment and grief couldn’t be consoled by any looks of regret.
For one thing, there was none to be had here.
Certainly not amongst the inhabitants of this tavern.
No … not quite a tavern.
A guild hall.
A common room to the side. A communal cauldron in the middle. A roasting fire pit. Excessive rows of kegs pushed against the walls. And a straight line from door to reception.
There could be no mistake.
The layout! The grease! The sight of someone drinking directly from the shared pot like an ox lapping at a trough!
I recognised it!
This truly was a branch of the Adventurer’s Guild!
And it was here … upon an illicit pirate haven?!
Questions, exasperation and mental anguish wrestled for limelight at the forefront of my mind. All things I had no wish for, and yet the Adventurer’s Guild was the headache which simply kept giving.
And the stench!
I held my hands to my nose as the reek of unwashed brigands pervaded the air.
The muddied faces and leering smiles of drunken louts filled the hall as they sang an ode to contempt for personal hygiene. A single whiff was enough to overpower even the sea salt still tingling in my nose. The greatest achievement these hoodlums would ever lay claim to.
I was assuredly not safe amongst such a rabble. As a princess, my survival instincts were second to none!
And right now … they were telling me my dignity was in mortal peril!
“Coppelia.”
“Yes?”
“I fear for my safety. Should the worst to pass and one of these louts decides to upend their breakfast in my direction, I permit you to use your own body to defend me.”
“Are you suggesting I shield you if someone barfs your way?”
I nodded solemnly at my loyal future handmaiden.
“If duty were easy, it would be named chores instead.”
“Eh … I think I prefer it when you ask me to bravely sacrifice myself while you flee and leave me to be eaten by a diseased owlbear or something.”
“Please, Coppelia. If a diseased owlbear wished to eat me, then you could never hope to distract it. I’m far too appetising.”
“Hey! I’m really tasty!”
“... Are your cogs even digestible?”
“Digestion has nothing to do with my perfect mix of sweetness and astringency.”
I prepared to deliver my infallible retort, before realising I was having a conversation about our feasibility as menu items. Soon, I’d be comparing myself to a braised slime.
Ugh. Each day I spent away from the regal backdrop of the Royal Villa, I became closer to …
These people.
I wrinkled my nose at the gathering of louts bumping cups and heads. And I knew they were not who I assumed.
Despite the hooliganism of the guild’s finest, they at least met the minimum standards of looking like roadside wayfarers. Not these.
These were assuredly not adventurers.
No more than the woman behind the desk was a receptionist.
Indeed, unlike the stubborn mannequins of professionalism I’d encountered thus far, this one did not welcome us with a straight posture and a tidy smile, nor a uniform devoid of a single crease.
In fact–
In a pirate haven disappointingly lacking in pirate aesthetics, she was the most pantomime hoodlum here.
Eyepatch, bandana, scruffy waistcoat and an abundance of bangles, rings and necklaces, she appeared as though she’d freshly returned from robbing a merchant. And a poor one as well, judging by the quality of the jewellery.
She offered a lazy wave as we approached, before slowly turning her lips into something akin to a welcoming smile.
“Been a while since anyone’s come to me instead of the bar,” she said, nudging her head towards the most crowded part of this hall. “Sure you got the right place?”
No.
“That would depend. Is this hovel dredged from the sea truly a guild branch?”
The woman’s smile brightened considerably.
“Sure is! Best hovel there is. And led by yours truly, Tillie Pilton. Provisional guildmaster of the speculative branch of the Port Defiance Adventurer’s Guild. Pleased to meet you.”
I spent a moment longer than necessary just to ensure my face was the correct shade of exasperation. Still, I wasn’t certain it was enough.
“What … What is a provisional guildmaster of a speculative branch of the Adventurer’s Guild?”
“It means if anyone asks, I’m officially on holiday.” The woman’s eyes swept over the copper ring dirtying my finger. “But since you’re asking, it’s because we like planting our feet early. Saves a lot of paperwork down the line, you know?”
I nodded.
Yes … I had absolutely no idea what she was implying!
“Explain in five words or fewer. Paperwork regarding … what, precisely? Why am I seeing the existence of the Adventurer’s Guild in a barren rock utilised as a drinking hole by outlaws?”
The woman shrugged.
“Because someday, Port Defiance might become the sort of place where I don’t need to say I’m only visiting for a holiday. Oh, sure, it’s a pirate haven now. But the Kingdom of Dunes used to be one big smuggling hideout. Things change. And the guild likes to be around when it does, you know? Of course, we’re mostly just a bar until then. But a pretty good one. Want some Bloodsuckle Rum?”
I was appalled.
To think that despite my lowest opinions of the Adventurer’s Guild, I had still been overestimating their worth all this time!
Truly, it mattered nothing to them if they infested the discarded shell of a snail. So long as there was coin to be had and politics to intrude upon, they would rush to it like hounds to a hare.
Also, that was considerably more than five words!
“Miss–”
“Pilton. Tillie Pilton.”
“Yes, that. Are you not aware that across a narrow stretch of sea, the Trierport branch of the guild is currently offering a commission reward in the region of …”
“127,892 gold crowns,” said Coppelia.
“Yes, numbers, to thwart away the pirates who doubtless reside upon your doorstep and within your erstwhile bar?”
The provisional guildmaster whistled.
“That much, huh? Maybe I should get in on that commission. I’d be able to buy a ship out of here. Ahahaha.”
The woman’s laughter died down when I didn’t laugh with her. She gave a small cough.
“But no, I didn’t know. We branches sort of do our own thing. Really drives home that community spirit, you know? Flexibility and all. Way better than being frozen in lockstep, wouldn’t you say?”
Yes.
Fragmented and disorganised, I would take great pleasure in dismantling this spy network.
“This is not the Kingdom of Dunes,” I pointed out. “There are no vast sands or glittering oases here. Merely blackened rock and even blacker aspirations. Even for the Adventurer’s Guild, this flagrant opportunism is a waste of resources which could otherwise go into my personal remuneration.”
The provisional guildmaster’s smile widened.
“Sure is. But our golden boy thinks he has the charm to turn Port Defiance into a fine, upstanding society. Maybe he can do it? He is a prince, after all.”
A prince.
But from the Principalities. And theirs were little more than the drunkards I saw around me, raised far beyond their stations.
“Should anyone from the Principalities wish to extend the borders of their lawless islands, it shall not be here. Neither the Kingdom of Tirea, nor any of the realms sharing access to the Emerald Sea would allow it.”
“I mean, that’s probably why he has no intention of making this place any part of the Principalities.”
“No?” I frowned. “I suppose he seeks to fashion a kingdom from these rocks. Then he can have his crew raise his spurious title even further.”
“Actually, I think he wants to make Port Defiance a democracy.”
I tilted my head in puzzlement, certain I’d misheard.
“... Excuse me?”
“A democracy. Wants to be voted in. Can you believe it? Something about rights and freedoms. He gave a speech and everything. Real fancy. Then again, he probably knows he’d win. You should’ve … uh, are you okay?”
My entire body started uncontrollably shaking.
D-Demo … Democracy … !!
Coppelia caught me as I fell.
A prince … even a false prince, wished to … wished to form a democracy?
It was already sacrilege that he was voted in by sailors! But at least they could claim some crumbs of history and traditions! Only seasoned seafarers could take part, ensuring that the most skilled were elevated!
But this?
A democracy?!
This prince … he wished to offer power to the unwashed masses?!
Even a king voted by commoners was no more than a fancifully titled mayor! The utter disgrace! The very thought was an abomination to all that was decent!
Why, if word reached the shores of my kingdom that such an escapade into self-destruction was permitted anywhere close to our realm, then the very roots of our society would begin withering!
T-This madman … he must be stopped!
“I see.” I clutched at Coppelia’s arm as I lifted myself up. “The situation is more grave than I had envisaged. I cannot tarry. This Golden Moron’s ideas are even more damaging than his criminal ventures. Indeed, they threaten civilisation itself. For the sake of this continent, I must locate him at once!”
The woman nodded, although her somewhat lackadaisical smile failed to match the gravity of the situation.
“Well, then, it’s a good thing I know how to find him.”
“You do? … Excellent! Where is this dangerous individual?”
“On his ship.”
“And where’s that?”
“Tucked away on a hidden shoreline, covered in mist and fog … I think.”
“You think?”
The guildmaster clapped her hands together and beamed.
“So, there’s this thing called the Sea Stone–”
I turned around.
“Come, Coppelia! We can begin interrogating people at random.”
“Waaaaait!” The woman reached over the counter and grabbed onto my sleeve. I immediately started batting her away, only to be horrified at both her strength and the change in her expression. “The Seeing Stone is this island’s only worthwhile magical artifact! If you can retrieve it, then I might be able to get a transfer away from here!”
“So you admit the only reason the guild exists here is to scavenge for treasure?!”
“If I admit it, will you retrieve it for me?! Please, I’ve been stuck here for 6 months! I told my parents I’d found a nice desk in the capital! I was too embarrassed to tell them I’d been sent to a rock in the middle of the sea! They’re starting to think I’ve eloped!”
“U-Unhand me at once! Your personal circumstances are–”
“Look! Even this eyepatch is fake! I have to wear it just to fit in, and now my vision’s wonky!”
“I, ugh … you have my sympathies … well, no, you don’t. You know perfectly well what your job entails. Just as I know what it means to search for lost magical artifacts! Well, I refuse! To trek into some endless hole in the ground to unearth a muddy ball is a monumental waste of my time!”
The provisional guildmaster stopped tugging on my sleeve.
Still, she didn’t quite release me.
“Oh, is that your worry? Because that’s already been done.”
“Excuse me?”
“Yeah, someone’s already found it. Apparently it was in someone’s cupboard. I don’t need you to dig for it. Just to retrieve it.”
I pursed my lips.
“And the reason you cannot retrieve it yourself, is … ?”
“Well, the woman who bought it won’t open the door to speak to me.”
“Woman? What woman?”
The guildmaster shrugged.
“Some famous writer. Or so I’m told. I only care about the Sea Stone. If you manage to get her to open up and haggle it away, I’ll be happy to reimburse the costs. It’ll come at no expense to you, promise! I have a discretionary budget just for artifacts.”
Hmm.
A famed author … I wonder if I could recognise any works?
Unlikely, yet even so–
“Who is this person?”
The woman’s face brightened up at once.
“Tiora or Tiara or something. I saw copies of her book being sold back home. I think it’s called … The Ashen Maiden’s Journey.”
“Talia,” I replied at once.
I recognised the pen name. The work.
Why, The Ashen Maiden’s Journey had occupied the best selling fiction charts for almost an entire year, dethroned only by the behemoth which was now A Court Lady’s Indiscretion–even if it should have been displaced far sooner.
I creased my brows as I recalled the book.
The harrowing tale of a young princess venturing out to explore the world, acquainting herself with villagers as though they were equals, forging bonds of friendship with servants, subordinating herself to mere farmers …
Through her scandalous works, she had propagated the notion that we princesses were but lonely creatures whose only wish was to experience the camaraderie of the commoner’s lifestyle.
It was horrifying.
Why, the princess in the tale even used a hoe!
Not as a weapon! But for agricultural work!
I shuddered as words from a book I’d long burned assailed my mind.
“Truly? The hack who wrote that black text besmirching royalty and dirtying the minds of future, loyal tax payers everywhere is residing here? But why? Is it to escape the arms of justice like the libellous rogue she is?”
“No idea. I only know what I’ve heard.”
“I see. And where is this highly crazed individual staying, exactly?”
The guildmaster’s hopeful smile grew concerned. As she should. Because she had little idea that of all the fugitives this island harboured, a woman claiming that princesses could bow her head to peasants was the definition of high treason!
Indeed, this was a venture worthy of consideration.
To meet, discuss and thoroughly lambast this quack of a writer for her debaucherous book was a boon I never expected to find upon this barren wasteland! Why, this presented a unique opportunity to offer my own studious literary critiques!
Namely, in the form of a spinning, rotten apple, tossed with unerring precision trained over years of real world application!
Ohohohoho! Her sourest taste would be my sweetest!
“It’s, um, in the Admiral’s Quarters. Up in the old lighthouse.”
“The lighthouse?”
“You heard it. Not sure why she’s keeping there instead of sleeping behind a bar like everyone else, but the lighthouse keeper won’t complain. The sod hasn’t stopped spending coin ever since she took up his room.”
I nodded, my omniscient mind already turning to the future.
A writer residing in a lighthouse on a barren rock was strange, but no matter. For the first time on this tiring endeavour, filled with ramshackle inns, unseasoned porridge and second-rate nobility, I could see a moment to delight in.
After all, I happened to be quite the authority on princesses. And I knew that we would only associate with peasantry when ordering them at our leisure.
Currently, this meant demanding a complete rewrite from this obvious commoner!
Naturally, since I'd be supervising, a hefty chunk of the royalties from The Ashen Maiden’s Journey, Honest Edition would have to be assigned to me–and I would begin by requisitioning any highly popular magical artifacts in this literary con artist’s possession to my care!
Oho … ohohoho … how swiftly the tides of fortune turn in my favour!
Once I’d elicited a firm apology from this hack, I could skip along to wherever the Golden Hoodlum was hiding using the Sea Stone, boot him across the horizon, then empty this guild branch of all its reserves as I haggled … no, demanded every last coin for its exchange!
… Or should I?
It stood to reason that if this guildmaster desperately wished to paw at this artifact, then all of them did.
Including, surely, the ones who possessed more crowns in their vaults than a speculative branch lost in the middle of the sea?
If the Adventurer’s Guild were truly as fragmented as I’d been shown thus far, then I could use that to my favour!
I could allow the entire organisation to compete amongst themselves in a highly destructive bidding war! I’d be filling my bottomless pouch at their expense! And the only finger I had to lift was when I sipped at my tea while watching them willingly racing to their own financial ruin!
Oho … ohoho … ohohohoho!
The insidiousness–it was beautiful.
Here it was! That familiar feeling of warmth gently caressing my shoulders and patting my head as I relaxed to the machinations of my own mind!
What need did I have to divide and conquer when my enemies had already done the work for me? All that was left was to encourage their own rivalry and squabbling … no different than when I toyed with the nobility like puppets dangling from a weary string.
All that awaited them if they climbed was to be crushed between my finger and thumb.
“Ohhohohohohoho!”
“Huh?”
“Oh, my apologies, I had a sudden realisation.”
“You … You did? What was it?”
“That I’m far more devious than even I envisaged.”
With my hand barely concealing my laughter, I turned my back to this hole in the ground.
There was much to be done. And I would begin by having a discussion with this commoner masquerading as a writer. As a renowned intellectual, I valued historical accuracy.
And as a princess, history was how I defined it.
Comments
The Magician
Your consistency is mark of true genius. How is this character so perfect?
We must stop this disease before it spreads!
Vega
The fact that she fell into a dead faint at the mere mention of democracy is simply phenomenal.
