Chapter 229: Not Listening

“What did you just say, Marchioness?” The king raised an eyebrow.

For that reaction, I had to give him credit. The way he’d addressed me, by my noble title, he’d given me a way out, and a chance to explain myself ahead of any accusations from someone like the increasingly furious Duke Ludwig.

Unfortunately for him, I had no intent to renege on what I said.

“Berethiel is after me above all. I will fight in my demesne and with my wife.”

The king’s jaw tightened. “Marchioness, you are unfamiliar, perhaps, with your role and my authority. Should you die following my order, I will ensure your wife is informed and Astrye will remain under my protection.”

I took one step forward, and found my way barred by crossed polearms. The royal guards shook under my glare, but kept their weapons held firm.

“Your Majesty, if I die by your suicidal order, my wife will exact her revenge. I believe the risk is worth the chance of victory.”

King Carvalon’s anger was a methodical, dense thing. Slow to grow, and presumably just as slow to erode. It fought me as I dared to take it away. When his eyes narrowed, I knew in an instant he’d known of my attempt.

“Zarenna Miller, it is not up to you whether the risk is worth it. You are not the king. You are not the sole victim in the Church’s scheme and I will not allow you to risk the lives of my people on a fool’s errand.” He motioned, and the guards surrounded me as the nobility in the room took several steps back. “You will obey my order. In my graciousness, and in acceptance of your good intent, I will ignore the threat upon my life you have just uttered. Consider this your final act as Marchioness: a defense of your homeland.”

He’s afraid. The realization hit me like a punch to the gut: it tickled a little and cleared my head. King Carvalon knew he had no true power over me. All he could do was threaten my position in society: my title, my citizenship, and whether the unknowing public saw a monster or a peer.

But he could not control the opinion of Astrye, or the Gelles Company, or my demonic allies, or any number of people outside of Edath. King Carvalon wasn’t just shorter than I was, he was smaller too. A smaller fish in a smaller pond.

I started with an apologetic glance at Duchess Arina Kapel, whose life I had both saved and surely ruined. And at Countess Veronika Elstein who could hopefully escape association with me. Then I looked the king dead in his blue-like-mine eyes and said, “Do as you will.”

He grimaced, his anger rose yet higher, and with a subtle motion the royal guard surrounded me. I simply started to walk toward the big, mountain-facing windows. The nobles of the summit, aided by servants and excess guards, scrambled out of my way as weapons thrust hesitantly at me.

A hand here, forearm there, a tail slap when at the right angle. I sent the weapons away and their owners stumbling back. Not without a few nasty slashes—my blood sizzled as it burned the rich carpet underfoot. Spells scorched against me, and I kicked up a storm of burning wind.

Those guards too close were scalded and thrown back, grunting and shouting. So far as I knew, no one was dying, but it was getting harder and harder to rein my fury in. Instead of shouldering through the glass, I threw up a hand and with it a person-sized gout of crimson fire.

The flames blew apart empty chairs, incinerated a section of the grand table, and shattered the nearest window. Not just the window, either. Chunks of half-melted masonry and heat-detonated stones tumbled around the opening twice my width.

I paused at the edge, and set free my wings of fire. With a wave, I snuffed out the burning cinders from my attack and looked back at the cowed cluster of humans standing amongst the destroyed room. The king was buried behind a wall of royal guard.

But to the side, standing casually as he flicked a coal out of his long hair, Yevon Styon met my gaze. And for just a brief second I could have sworn I saw him smile.

I cast a clawed finger at the nearest mountain. “Tell Berethiel that he will find me in the mountains beyond that peak. Though I doubt he’ll need to ask.”

A flair for the dramatic as always. This isn’t a stage play.

Before anyone could recover their wits enough to reply, I jumped through the ruined wall and took flight, speeding off toward my demesne as fast as I could. Already, I knew where I needed to fight. I’d set Castle Astrye as more or less the center, which left a lopsided area under my influence.

Those uninhabited mountains behind the castle, opposite the pass and well out of the way of either Astrye or Linthel, would have to be the place. Because if I let another one of my battles destroy more lives there, I’d never forgive myself.

It wasn’t until I’d almost reached the edge of my demesne that I realized quite what had just happened. King Carvalon had been abundantly clear: I was no longer marchioness. I was no longer a citizen of my own damn homeland.

For the audacity to not die by needless altruism. The world has a sick sense of humor sometimes, huh? It was hard not to see the parallels. But at the same time, I had allies and I trusted Yevon’s timeline.

Now, all I had to do was figure out if there was any way I could actually win.

The moment I reached my demesne, I fell apart into flames and reappeared in what was (for now) my bedroom.

Seyari jumped up from where she sat at our desk and blinked at me. “What happened? Who died?”

I furrowed my brow. “No one yet, but—”

“Sit.” She pulled me down onto the bed and threw a wing around me.

When our eyes met, all the stress sloughed off me in a wave. I pulled her into a hug and felt damp when I leaned into the crook of her neck.

“Shh. Whose fault is this? I can take care of that king if you want.”

I shook my head. “No, he’s…” I’m done making excuses for him. “Killing him won’t help, not right now. Berethiel will be in Linthel tonight.”

Sey nodded and placed a kiss on my cheek. “I’m only a little surprised you didn’t scoff at my suggestion.”

“Well… sometimes it’s the right answer. I hate it.”

“It’s fine to hate it.” I leaned my forehead down to touch hers.

“I know.” She ran a nail along one of my horns.

“So, do we need to leave now? Rally our allies?”

I took a deep breath and thought through the answer. “We… Yevon told me that I’m not strong enough. We should only take those who are strong enough not to…”

“Die immediately,” Seyari finished. “Right. Well, that’d be us, Shyll, and… perhaps our daughter. Quiraxa if we had more time.”

I pulled my tail around us. “I don’t want to risk our daughter.”

Seyari laid a hand on my tail, tracing looping curves with one nail. “What if she wants to join us?”

“I’d forbid it.”

“What if we died?”

My next words caught in my throat. What if we did die? Joisse would be targeted. “I… can’t stand the thought of losing her.”

“She’s strong, Renna.”

“...I know.”

“Will you let her decide for herself?”

I placed one hand over hers. “I will. But… if it’s just the four of us, can we win even in my demesne?”

Sey barked a laugh. “You really don’t know much about Sovereign demesnes do you?”

“Yeah, I failed that class back when I was human.” I snorted.

“We’d need to ask Lilly for the details, but hers felt like a weight on my shoulders, even though she wanted us there. Utraxia’s less so, but…” She flexed her hand, admiring her sharp black nails. “I’m a little different than when we were in Navanaea. The point is, all I knew from my time with the Inquisition is that you don’t want to fight in one, that it suppresses the effectiveness of holy magic and enhances demonic.”

She reached up and poked me in the nose with one of those claws. “You can turn into fire and teleport in yours. I’m not so sure about whether it suppresses holy magic because I’ve not heard of Gareth or Inva complaining—and your sister says she feels perfectly fine.”

“Is it worth ten of me?”

“What kind of stupid question is that?”

“Well, Yevon said—”

“Fuck Yevon. You operate on pure fucking wrath.” She pulled me to my feet. “I felt it when you came here, and you lost it when you saw me. Get. Angry! Be mad at this unfair double standard bullshit! Be mad at being used! Be mad at all the innocent people who suffer just because they let you into their lives!” She was glowing now, wind whipping her hair as her voice’s natural echo reverberated off the walls like a chorus of war cries.

“Berethiel’s a waste of space deadbeat whose biggest feat is enough flexibility to kiss his own ass!” She hissed, and familiar crimson flames danced on her lips, reflected in her glowing eyes. “He hasn’t fought a damn thing in decades. Even Mordwell considered him arrogant! He’s going to show up, throw his strongest magic at you, and expect it to just work!

“Show him you shouldn’t be underestimated. Burn him in your demesne, and rip his fucking wings off!”

Carefully, I placed my two lower hands over hers. Already she’d dug furrows into my shoulders. Her wings glowed, smokeless fire curling off the tips of the longest feathers. The bedsheets were beyond saving, but I didn’t care.

I pulled Seyari into a kiss, and her tongue pinned mine. When we pulled apart, her face was flush, with wide eyes and a manic, fanged smile.

“I’m finally gonna kill him,” she cackled. “He’s finally gonna pay!”

My own wrath rose to match, burning at the thought a father could be so vile. “We’ll kill him together, Sey,” I said firmly. “As a team. We’ll show him he shouldn’t underestimate his foes, and we’ll punish his arrogance.”

The fire in her eyes dimmed a little, and her wings stopped crackling like a bonfire. “...We.” She held me tighter. “Thank you, Renna. I… just remembered that night in the desert. You were so warm.” She sighed and pulled away, holding my two lower hands in hers. “Would that we had a little more time. I’ll find Shyll—and she’d better not be eavesdropping right now. You go find our daughter, Renna.”

“I will.”

“Good.” she pecked me on the cheek. “Before that, you should know something important about my father. He’s going to underestimate us and try to overwhelm us, but you’re right. We’ll need teamwork, your demesne, and luck to win.

“Angels are ancient. I don’t know how old he is, but he’s killed Sovereign demons before, so he’s probably fought in their demesnes. From what I know, the only type of magic he can use is holy, but that might be wrong.”

“Can we take out his wings,” I asked.

Sey shrugged. “I don’t know. I can imagine he can regrow them. But he’s no god—his magic isn’t limitless if he’s forced to use enough, constantly.”

“But he’d outlast us.”

“...Probably.”

“However, if he completely wastes a few massive attacks, then it might be more even?”

Sey nodded. “It’s worth a shot, certainly. Can you teleport others?”

“I’ve never tried.”

She wrapped her wings around me. “Try the balcony, then. If we’re not killed immediately, the fight becomes a lot more winnable.”

I nodded and focused on what I’d learned to feel was my demesne. Like a part of me, made of my magic, that existed outside my body. When I tried to pull Sey in, there was a brief moment of resistance, and then the two of us were standing on the balcony, overlooking the early night glimmers of Astrye.

Sey looked herself over, flexing her wings and sending my hair flying into a wild mess. “Everything’s here. Fantastic! Was it easy, hard? Did it take a lot of mana?”

I thought for a moment, then made a so-so gesture. “There was a bit of resistance. But I think if I tried it again with you, it’d be easier. Maybe it’s our Vow?”

“Vow, huh,” she repeated. “I know we keep saying it, but wow, we’re married.”

“Demon contract married,” I replied with a wide smile. Now it was my turn to pull her in for a kiss. “I think about it every day, how damn lucky I am.”

Seyari’s pale skin flushed red. “I should be the one embarrassing you.”

“Nu-uh, I’m way more embarrassing. You want faux pas? I got faux pas.”

She flicked my nose. “Fine. You can teleport me, and we know to try to get him to use as much magic as possible without dying in the process. There’s no way to kill an angel unless they’re out of mana and can’t regenerate.”

I nodded.

“No more putting it off. Go find our daughter—I think she’s at her friend’s house tonight.”

“Verrka,” I replied. It’d only been… four or five days since I’d been over there playing games too. It felt far, far longer.

Sey glared at me.

“Okay, okay, I’ll go!” I called upon my demesne and disappeared in a puff of flames.

***

After Zarenna left, Seyari slumped against the balcony railing. She didn’t say as much, but I suppose this is the end of “our castle,” huh? I didn’t much like being a noble anyway.

Seyari looked down at the town below. Any one of those cottages would do… no, too small. Not enough of a garden, either. Seyari wanted someplace they could really have some privacy once in a while, and maybe fuck a mountain or three into the ground.

Gods, I’m married to her. Just like every other time she had that thought, a shiver went down Seyari’s spine. She flexed her wings. Focus.

“Shyll, you can come out now,” she said to the air.

Nothing.

“Shyll, I mean it. Show yourself now and I won’t take off a limb.”

Still no answer.

“Damn. Who’d have known the time she started obeying orders is the time it'd be easier for her to have ignored them.”

With a last, longing look at their lovely grand bedroom, Seyari leapt off the balcony, opened her wings, and glided toward the courtyard. She was humming a barely-remembered, jaunty tune as she landed.

Just the thought that she could rip Berethiel’s wings off and show him what it was like… She slapped her cheeks, then felt her ears heating up as she realized the courtyard wasn’t completely empty.

“Seyari?” Kartania asked, pausing after striking the target dummy with a clean slash across the abdomen.

“Kartania,” Seyari replied. “...have you seen Shyll?”

The icy woman’s eyes narrowed. “I have if you tell me what’s going on.”

Seyari debated telling her for a moment. “Renna’s back, and we’re going to fight Berethiel.”

“Is that what’s got you so… giddy?” One of Kartania’s brows went up.

Seyari lifted her chin. “I’m merely pleased that I can enact revenge against my tyrant of a father.”

Kartania’s eyes went wide, blinking. “Berethiel is your father!?”

“Yes,” Seyari answered. “And he's a right bastard womanizing narcissist.”

“I… see.” She took a deep breath. “I suppose this was inevitable given the recent battle. How long do we have?”

“A couple hours until he’s in Linthel.”

Kartania scowled. “Hours!? And why would he be going to Linthel?”

“Presumably he’s after Renna.” When Kartania didn’t reply, Seyari continued, “He’ll probably just try to find where Renna is.”

“Or…”

“Or he’ll kill a bunch of innocent people then claim they had demonic influence.” Seyari ruffled Kartania’s hair.

The former paladin did not find this funny. “How are we supposed to stop him then? Why is Renna here and not in Linthel?”

“You are going to stay here and keep guard over Astrye. Renna’s here because that bastard is stronger than any of us alone, and probably all of us put together. Only Renna, myself, and potentially Shyll and Joisse are going.”

Kartania held back a scream through clenched teeth and jabbed a finger at Seyari. “None of you are allowed to die. Alright?” She hacked at the target dummy, bisecting it in a blast of icy wind.

Seyari stopped short of making a promise she couldn’t keep. “We’ll do our best.”

Kartania scowled and kicked the torso of the dummy. “You’d better. If my sister ran off and died without saying goodbye again, I’d…” She exhaled slowly and looked up at the tower. “Go. I won’t be sleeping tonight, so make sure Renna finds me when the battle’s done.”

Seyari nodded. “I will.”

“Shyll’s stargazing on the stable roof.” Kartania tilted her head back down and glowered at the broken dummy. “If she stays here, she’s fixing this.”

Seyari waved her hand, and a gust of wind blew across the stable’s roof, carrying with it a surprised yelp. The startled maid flickered in and out of visibility as she bounced to a halt between the pair, landing shoulders down and tail skyward.

“Hey! I wasn’t listening in, promise!” Shyll mumbled into the snow-dusted stones.

“Then you’re ready to go?” Seyari asked.

Shyll looked up, between Kartainia who’d frozen the dummy’s halves together and was hacking away and Seyari who glared down at her with narrowed eyes. “Go where?”

Seyari whistled. “Damn. Truth both times—I owe Renna an apology.”

“You bet I’d disobey?”

“Yep.”

“Renna was deadly serious about killing me if I did.”

“Damn. Another truth.”

Shyll’s eyes widened. “Wait, can you—”

Seyari’s smile ws razor sharp. “Oh yes I can. Every single thing you’ve ever said.”

Shyll gulped.

“If you go with us to kill an angel, I won’t tell a soul about your worst lies.”

The maid’s head cocked to one side as she stood up and dusted herself off. “That’s it? I’d pay you to go kill an angel! Who is it?”

“Berethiel, my father.”

Shyll paled. “Oh. Shit.”

If Renna goes off and dies again, Kartania's gonna kill her.

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