Alek Aundra
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CH 165 - There's Another Player (Part 1)
🕑 Added 2024-01-27 20:23:52 +0000 UTC“Let’s make a bet,” Luca said.
Jasper raised a brow. “Are you sure that’s a wise idea?”
Luca knows better than to gamble against me.
Jasper had heard Luca’s memory of the explosion a few hours ago had been wiped clean, but had he perhaps forgotten more than that?
He eyed the various pieces of junk collecting dust in this remote corner of the cellar that Luca had summoned him to. It was a rather unusual meeting place, and he was curious just what Luca was plotting.
"We'll play heads or tails," Luca declared, producing a golden coin. "If it lands heads, you win, and I'll owe you 100 gold."
"And if I lose?" Jasper asked with a smirk.
"You and I both know you won't." Luca waved him off but added some silly repercussions to make it a proper bet.
Tsing!
The golden coin soared into the air and landed in Luca's awaiting palm. To no surprise, it landed heads.
However, before Jasper could gloat about his easy win and get his payment, Luca retrieved a door handle from his pocket, pressed it against a wooden plank standing against a wall, and pulled.
“AAAAAAAH!”
A shriek sounded from the other side of the doorway that miraculously appeared where the wooden plank once stood.
“Lady Shuzen?” Jasper stared at the familiar face on the other side.
Her face cycled through a myriad of emotions, and understandably so. The last time they saw one another in Genise, she had temporarily lost a couple of her fingers, now weighed down with a giant engagement ring on every finger.
I see Elian Vikzhou had spared no expense.
Jasper evaluated the jewelry, grimacing.
Nor does he have any real taste.
The rings were overly gaudy and could have easily been mistaken for costume jewelry by the less observant. Given Lady Shuzen’s more sophisticated fashion, Jasper had a feeling she found the rings irritating but had enough sense not to complain.
“Oh good, it worked. If that’s Lady Shuzen, that must be Lellei Kingdom, right?” Luca asked, looking to Jasper for confirmation.
"It is.” Jasper laughed as his mind turned to the present opportunity that Luca had unexpectedly handed him. “The surprises never end with you, do they?”
Lellei Kingdom's political landscape was set to shift quite drastically soon after all, and Jasper knew exactly where to place his bets. He walked through the passageway and made Lady Shuzen an offer she was all too eager to accept in return for her hospitality.
* ~ * ~ * ~ * ~ *
Agh. How annoying.
Edwin Kert grasped his head in his hands and rubbed his fingers through his thinning dark hair.
He directed his attention to the small window above his desk, looking north toward a sunny day and the bustling city of Genise below. His office was in one of the towers of The Order's headquarters, and this lone window offered a view to the outside. Despite their height, he couldn't see the Kobar Mountain Range from all the way here, but he knew that it was out there in the north, and at its foothills sat Lekar, the capital city of the once-great Kobar Empire. While the empire was hardly what it is today, there were still those well-off living within it, notably one Lord Padraig Lyman.
A couple of weeks ago, a letter from Padraig arrived for Edwin. He claimed to be the grandfather of Grandov Lyman, a competent soldier of The Order that Edwin knew of quite well. Lord Padraig Lyman had written that he had been searching for his grandson for many years and had only recently learned of his existence. The letter went on to detail how, unfortunately, due to Lyman's father having been cut off years back and with brewing family drama regarding inheritance or something—Edwin frankly didn't bother remembering all the nuances—Padraig Lyman could not safely reveal himself to his beloved grandson and hoped that Edwin could play a part as an intermediary. The request was simple: to provide updates regarding Gradov's welfare and what the young man was up to every five days. In return, Edwin was paid a tidy sum of ten gold per letter. The request also included discreetly supplying Grandov with ten gold, a detail Edwin happily pocketed for himself, for a total profit of twenty gold per letter.
I'm his window to Grandov's life, so he'll never know. And besides, there's no more discreet way of providing for his grandson than keeping his gold in my possession. It's not like that goody-shoes will miss it anyhow.
That was Edwin's thought, and he happily pocketed the gold and wrote out long and detailed essays about all that Gradov Lyman was up to.
"BAWK!"
Edwin flinched, looking over at the creepy-looking bird perched on his table, with its grey, lifeless eyes staring at him. It was a Shadowwing Whisperer, a native of the Kobar Empire. It was larger than a raven, and its feathers had a sickly greyish-blue hue, the color of a human body submerged under water for a week. Lord Padraig Lyman used these birds as messengers. The benefit of them was that they could fly without rest for a week straight, and the hue of their feathers blended into the sky, making them difficult to spot. The only reason their popularity never gained traction was that they were technically undead. Some necromancer centuries ago produced a whole lot of these, and the few that still remained uncleansed were in private possession of people like Lord Padraig Lyman.
"BAWK!" the bird screeched again. It had a pouch of gold at its feet, which it wouldn't unclench from its talons without a sufficiently long letter in return.
But what am I supposed to do? He's dead. Grandov Lyman is dead.
Edwin Kert grasped his head in his hands again and wailed.
Why, oh why, did he get himself involved with those Freys?
Grandov was a nice enough young man, but that wasn't why Edwin was so devastated by his death.
My cash cow…. How could it die on me?
Edwin was expecting Grandov to live a long and prosperous life. The young man had been recently promoted and was on a fast-track promotion plan to Commandership within two years per Princess Evelyn's personal order. His life was made, even without a generous grandfather looking from afar.
But what about me? I had splurged on the premium membership of the Paragons of Rahosm Temple, counting on my cash cow to foot the bill.
His gaze drifted down to the golden pin adorning his brown jacket – a triangle with a small embedded diamond at the top. It was the envy of all members of the Paragons of Rahosm Temple. Just the looks of jealousy were worth the price of obtaining this pin, but the true value was that it granted access to the revered prophecies of fortunes made by their Saint Chase. The insights were of the utmost premium level at the Diamond Triangle level; thus, the price reflected it too. Of course, to be able to take advantage of these premium insights, you had to have money to invest.
"It takes money to make money," Edwin muttered, echoing the catchphrase of the Paragons of Rahosm Temple, a stark reminder of his financial predicament.
The trouble was that Edwin had no money. He had plunged into debt to finance his Paragons of Rahosm Temple membership, and with Grandov Lyman having died, there wasn't anything to write to Lord Padraig Lyman after this one final letter. Compounding matters, their revered Saint Chase had embarked on a spiritual pilgrimage to another continent, halting the production of new prophecies while the membership fees persisted.
Knock. Knock.
"Yes," Edwin said, reclining back in his chair to look toward his office door.
A young, slender man appeared. "I'm sorry to intrude, Master Edwin, but the palace has dispatched someone for your statement concerning Lord Blanche," the boy informed him.
Edwin groaned.
Lord Blanche was yet another cash cow that was being sent to the slaughterhouse. However, given his family background and his owing far too much to the Gilded Siren, Edwin suspected that he was going to get off with his head intact.
How'd that fool get caught? Did he skimp on paying off the guards? Or was someone needlessly honest get stationed one night?
"I—I can tell them you're busy," the boy offered uselessly.
"No, no, I'll get the statement to them. I'll come down," Edwin declared, rising from his chair, his aging knees protesting with a dull ache. "It'll be quick," he added, more for the benefit of the impatient Shadowwing Whisperer than the boy. The bird disliked waiting too long, and Edwin didn't care for the creature to remain in his office for too long, either. It exuded a sickly sort of stench that took hours to go away, even with the small window being left open.
"Ah! I'll inform the lady that was sent then," the boy said, opening the door wider for Edwin to exit.
As Edwin descended the spiraling staircase, he caught a whiff of freshly baked plain bread and felt his stomach grumble. The scent was better than the actual taste from experience. The realization hit him – part of his foul mood was fueled by hunger.
Halting in his tracks, he turned to the boy. "Has she eaten yet?"
"No, I don't believe so," the boy replied, wide-eyed.
"Ensure she has something in her stomach first, and then I'll speak with her," Edwin instructed. "I'm heading to The Order's kitchen to grab a bite for myself."
With that, he turned and walked off in the direction of The Order's kitchen.
A few courteous smiles and innocent white lies, subtly interwoven with the truth, were usually sufficient when dealing with palace workers. However, Edwin knew better than to converse with a hungry person. He had once counted the number of sentences passed by a judge and noticed that just before lunch and at the end of the day, the likelihood of the judge passing a harsher judgment, and in Genise it was almost certainly death, doubled. Thus, he made a mental note to never interact with anyone who could do him harm when hunger loomed and to abstain from making any important decisions on an empty stomach, too.
After indulging in a bowl of simple soup and freshly baked bread and having spun his tale to the palace worker, Edwin returned to his desk, pen in hand. However, now, instead of hunching over in despair, he sat back with a sly smirk playing on his lips, ready to inscribe his fables onto the empty parchment.
Who gives a rat's tail that Grandov is dead? It's not like his grandfather has to know. Besides, why break his grandfather's heart that his beloved grandson has passed away after only being found after so many years?
Edwin licked his lips and set the pen down to paper.
I'll also visit Natalia Ashford. I'm sure she can spin up a rumor about Grandov still being alive and well so that the unfortunate news of his demise doesn't spread and reach his grandfather's ears.
Edwin smiled broadly at his plan and began to write about Grandov's latest accomplishments, great deeds, and the mundane, which he was certain Grandov would have brought to pass if he had actually lived to do so.
Comments
Alek Aundra
Hah, there have been a lot of characters to date and it’s been a while regarding what Lord Blanche’s fate had been. I have a character cheat sheet I’ve debated cleaning up and sharing out publicly. My version is essentially one Google sheet tab dedicated to each character that has appeared and another running over what chapters they appear at and what happens. It helps me track everyone quickly. 😀
Undead Writer
Thanks for the chapter! Little confused in the beginning with the new names and such but I eventually remember everyone. Lol. Never good with names
Alek Aundra
🫶
Edwin Kravcenka
"The trouble was that Edwin had no money" - yea, I feel that... no need to be so point-blank about it, geez 🫠
