Half-Demon's Fortune

by Lina J. Potter

  But why then Dariola...it was her baby! Whether good or bad...children are simply born, and their parents love them! Even cripples and mutes...

  Innis would have loved her child, even if he was born with hooves and horns.

  The men started to question me for details. I told them everything about the assassination attempt, which earned me Henry’s slap.

  “Idiot! And I spent so much time teaching you...”

  I threw up my hands. Sorry.

  Otherwise, everybody loved me there and hated Dariola for her betrayal. Thus, she garnered no sympathy. She died? No big deal! We can live with that.

  Well, they already were living with that.

  As for the child... What will we call him?

  I paused for a second. Really, what? Alexander was taken. I did have an idea, though.

  “Rickard Henry Radenor. I think it’s a pretty good name.”

  The men exchanged glances, and Henry passed his hand over his eyes, as if accidentally. Was it an eyelash? Maybe.

  “So you’re leaving little Ricky with us,” Rick summed it up. “And you’ll declare that—”

  “That my wife was imprisoned in the tower after attempting to kill me. In two months, she will give birth to my son.”

  “And die in childbirth?”

  “I will be devastated.”

  “You will be,” said Auntie Mira, dead serious. “Have you considered how you’re going to present the child to the people? That’s no tender human baby. It’s a quarterling, with fangs and claws, and a personality to match them...”

  “Just looks will be enough. I don’t know. I don’t.”

  “You learned to transform pretty late and he will probably follow suit.”

  “Maybe I should talk to Argadon.”

  “We’ll make do with illusions,” said Rick, shrugging. “We have amulets, and not the weakest kind. We’ll charge them and put them on the baby. We’ll have to raise him here anyway...”

  “And I’ll set traps in the palace,” I chuckled good-naturedly. “I’ll create a homunculus; just let them try to kill him!”

  “But who’ll be taking care of him?”

  “I’ll think of something. Maybe Martha...”

  “When should we expect you?”

  “In three days. If anything happens, can you contact me, Rene?”

  “You know I can.”

  “Then it’s done. The baby stays with you and I’ll have to get home before dawn.”

  ***

  I spent three hours on the way to Alethar and fifteen minutes on feeding Ak-kvir—thankfully, I still had some conspirators left in my dungeon. Then I went to Martha.

  She was there as well, in the Keeper’s hall.

  “Mother?”

  “All good, sweetie?”

  I couldn’t take it; I hugged her.

  “Everything is fine. I left Ricky with the others.”

  “Ricky?”

  “Rickard Henry Radenor. Not bad, is it?”

  “It’s wonderful. Oh, Alex...’twas not that long ago that you were a wee baby in me arms, and now ye have yer own children!”

  “Your legitimate grandchildren.”

  “Kings...”

  “Does it matter, Mother?”

  For a second, Martha let herself relax and sniffled.

  “If only Michelle could see ye...”

  “She'd be proud of me. Maybe.”

  “She’s happy, I know that, wherever she is.”

  We stayed silent for some time, just standing next to each other and enjoying the feeling of closeness.

  How could I complain about being alone? I was such an ungrateful swine. I did have a family. Rick and Mira, Henry and Martha, Rene and Cassie—for them, I would rip out anybody’s throat, and they would do the same for me. We were a family, parts of each other. They were in my blood, in my bones, and even when I died, I would remember everything that they had given me.

  My childhood, full of light, laughter, fun, training, studies...and love. They had never cared that I was a half-demon, they had simply loved me...and they still did. My kin...

  Martha drew back.

  “Take a look at this. I dragged Dariola here, so she won’t rot.”

  True, Martha had put Dariola inside a temporal crystal pentagram. It could freeze time inside of itself, provided it was fed with power at least once every three days. But that was no problem—at least it solved the decomposition issue.

  A grimace of hate was forever stamped on Dariola’s fish face. She loathed me to the end.

  To the netherworld with you.

  “You’re a treasure, Mother.”

  “I cleaned up in yer room, but ye’d better find a new carpet and armchair.”

  “Will you show me?”

  And we went to my chambers. I looked around the room and shook my head in respect.

  Martha had done a great job.

  The armchair and the carpet, which had taken the worst of Dariola’s escapades, were peacefully burning in the fireplace, with the latter almost done, going by the smell of burned wool. I carefully examined the chamber, almost sliding my nose across the floor. I did find a few drops of blood in cracks between the parquet blocks. Should I pour wine over them? No, there is a simpler solution. We will drag another carpet here. Martha couldn’t do that, obviously, but for me, it was a piece of cake.

  Mother left the room, pleased with my compliments, and I wandered around the uninhabited section of the palace. It took some time, but I finally managed to find a carpet of a color similar to the old one. The servants could notice the difference...but also could miss it. I could only hope I would get lucky, but there was no helping it.

  I took the armchair from the same section. Who’d notice it missing, after months of constant parties?

  No other traces were left, as if nothing had ever happened in my room.

  The only thing left to do was to announce that my wife had been imprisoned. Oh, and breakfast is starting soon...

  I didn’t really want to eat, I was exhausted, but I had to finish the spectacle. And thus, I opened my wardrobe and picked clothes suitable for the occasion. I chose something blue, gossamer, and lacy. I lived for that stuff, maybe because it presented such a cynical contrast with my demonic nature.

  Whatever. Let them consider me a prissy lordling. Let them underestimate me.

  ***

  As soon as I entered the main corridor, I was attacked by a crowd of ladies-in-waiting.

  “Your Majesty, Your Majesty...”

  “The queen...”

  “We aren’t...”

  They surrounded me, the bright colors of their dresses flashing before my eyes, and I had to scream at them.

  “Shut up!”

  The ladies froze in place and I grabbed the opportunity.

  “Who let my wife out of her chambers yesterday?”

  The ladies scattered, leaving only one girl. She was pretty young, dark-haired and grey-eyed, a bit on the plump side, her skin the color of baked milk. A cutie, too; I remembered that she was a small-town girl dragged to court by her helpful relatives. A debutante, if you will.

  To find a husband for her, they had gotten her a position at court. I knew what would happen next: intrigues, dances, darting coy glances at moving targets. Some such girls happened to find a good match, while others joined the swelling ranks of high society whores—and those were the majority. Such was life.

  “You..”

  “I’m Vanessa Mitor, Your Majesty.”

  “And your father?”

  “The youngest son of Baron Mitor, Your Majesty.”

  Everything was clear; only the landless and moneyless would give in to Dariola’s command.

  “Did you know about my orders?’

  “Your Majesty?”

  She wasn’t lying.

  “Have been at court long?”

  “Yes, Your Majesty, around three months. But I’ve just returned after visiting my father.”

  “And when were
you back?”

  “Yesterday morning, Your Majesty.”

  The sniveling girl had no idea about the whole situation. Gossip traveled fast, but not that fast.

  “Her Majesty gave you an order and you obeyed it. I see.”

  “Yes, Your Majesty.

  “Be gone from my sight, stupid girl.”

  The girl curtseyed, demonstrating a big helping of her ample bosom, and I couldn’t help but lick my lips. She was quite enticing, and she clearly picked up on my interest, even if for a second...

  That was probably the stress talking. Even hangmen had easier jobs. At least they worked with people and outside, and I had to deal with courtiers in the palace.

  “Her Majesty tried to kill me yesterday. I stopped her and threw her into prison,” I explained calmly. “She’ll stay there until she gives birth, after which she’ll be sent to a convent. I’ll decide which one later.”

  Going by their faces, the ladies weren’t convinced, but nobody dared to argue. One of the women left from Abigail’s retinue stepped out. Countess Carten was sixty and ugly as sin, but otherwise, had an unblemished record, following etiquette as if it were the testament of the Bright Saint himself and making others do the same.

  “Your Majesty, will we be allowed to—”

  “Visit the queen? No.”

  “But—”

  “Pack up some of her stuff—and don’t indulge her.”

  “What about life mages?”

  “I’ll invite them when they’re needed.”

  “As you command, Your Majesty.”

  “I do command something. The queen must have hidden poison somewhere in her things. She coated the tip of her hairpin with ritvish. Find me the bottle and bring it here. Will you be able to identify it?”

  “Yes, Your Majesty.

  “Then, Countess, consider this your primary task.”

  “Yes, Your Majesty.”

  “Go on.”

  They understood me easily enough and disappeared, while I headed to the dining room.

  During breakfast, I had to repeat the announcement about the murder attempt. And no, I’m not hurt, even if I could have been. I got lucky.

  I demonstrated the poison hairpin to everybody, then the ladies found a bottle of ritvish in Dariola’s things, and the countess brought the bottle practically to the dining table, right at the end of breakfast.

  I uncorked it and took a sniff.

  “Ritvish. Thank you, Countess.”

  “Your Majesty, there’s more...”

  “Really?”

  There was more—two more types of poison. One was slow-acting, to be poured into food, the second one, into bath water where it could seep through the skin.

  Great. My wife was actively preparing for the assassination; after those discoveries, nobody would doubt her guilt, as I had no opportunity to plant those jars.

  “Where did you find them?’

  “Among Her Majesty’s ointments.”

  “My wife is a brave one. Had she mixed them up...”

  The courtiers answered me with oily smiles, even if some of them were likely disappointed with the failure of her attempt.

  Scum. No matter. Soon, I will get to all of you.

  ***

  I returned to my bedroom very late, and promptly froze upon opening the door.

  Whoa, what the...?

  A naked girl was lying in my bed. Shadows cast down by candlelight played on her milky white skin, sometimes highlighting her nipples and sometimes, the dark scrubs between her plump and very tempting legs.

  Vanessa.

  “What are you doing here?”

  “Your Majesty, I came to show you my gratitude...”

  “Really?

  I looked her down once again.

  “Are you sure that’s how it’s done?”

  “Your Majesty, please don’t send me away! I... You’re the best! You’re the most wonderful man in the world, and since I saw you, from the very first sight, I...I cannot live without you...”

  Her words flowed freely, but I didn’t hear them. I needed to look beyond the words, and when I did that, all I saw was Abigail.

  Yes, another Abigail, whose only goal was profit. It’s not that she hailed from a poor family—the Andagos weren’t rich either, but Innis would never stoop to that. The problem was her absolute conviction that everybody was sure to fall for her charms and bow to her every whim.

  I wondered who told those stupid girls that sex was the easiest way to control a man. Who was that arrogant bastard? If a man wasn’t a complete fool, he could take his pleasure and send the impudent thing packing. He had no obligation to fulfill her wishes, grant her land and titles, not at all.

  And even if I desired her, deep inside, I felt only disgust and revulsion. She really considered me a mindless bull, who would run if she beckoned, mooing happily.

  Wretch. One more slut who wants to get to the throne by opening her legs. I grit my teeth, trying to control the impulse to hurl her down the stairs, but even then... She was simply the first in what would be a long line, and if I didn’t want to bring back Rudolph’s times...

  Why not, really?

  I gestured for the girl to come closer.

  “Come here.”

  She stood up, beaming with joy, and approached me, clearly intending to press her body against me. I stopped her, touching her chin.

  “You’re still a virgin, are you?”

  Her eyes were clear and innocent, just like a treasurer’s when he tried to steal something.

  “Your Majesty, my honor is the only thing I have...”

  Here we go.

  “And you’ve decided to give it to me? That’s very brave of you.”

  “You’re my king...”

  And the hero of her dreams and visions and whatever else it was the smooth-voiced cynics sang about. I smirked.

  “Oh, no. I can’t strip you of something that should be taken by your future husband. On your knees.”

  “Your Majesty?”

  “Haven’t I made myself clear? On your knees.”

  And when the girl obeyed, feigning reluctance, I unfastened the cords of my pants. Well, that way was no worse than any of the others—at least I won’t deflower her or leave any trace, plus, I would get at least some pleasure.

  Judging by the disgusted grimace on the girl’s face, her dreams were quickly shattering against the reefs of reality. She choked, gagged, and belched, but I didn’t care. I moved slowly and steadily, holding her by the back of her head, and in twenty minutes, exploded with a pleasured moan.

  When I left her, the girl was still kneeling. If my assumptions were correct, she had just learned a very cruel lesson. It didn’t matter that she didn’t lose her virginity—if she had it in the first place. She was used like a whore...and now she was to be kicked out.

  I pulled her up and handed her a cup of wine.

  “Drink it, fast.”

  She obeyed, and her gaze seemed to gain some awareness. She gulped.

  “If you come back, I’ll kick you downstairs just as you are. The guards will be happy. Got it?”

  “Y-yes.”

  “Get dressed and get gone.”

  I watched the process, however brief it was. The girl had come in a nightgown and a robe. Well, it’s not like she had been visiting a ball...

  But I really would have to get rid of the guards. The king’s bedroom shouldn’t have a revolving door. They had grown so lazy and boorish over Rudolph’s reign, getting accustomed to whores visiting my uncle as if they had lived there. I had no time for girls; I still had a budget to plan. And then, during my absence, they had managed to up the taxes—in my own country! The gall! How could I think of women?

  I sighed deeply and went into the bathroom. Maybe I could get a few minutes of peace there, at least...

  ***

  Vanessa was seething with rage.

  What a bastard! A cad! A swine! How dare he! And to think that I...

  The girl
was almost growling as she stormed down the palace corridors, yet she kept trying to keep her game face on. Still, she could see it by the grins of the guards, the eyes of the lackeys...

  You’re far from the first to come running down from there.

  She was used like a whore and discarded like trash. Where was the love promised by the minstrels, like between Rolen and Jalina? As soon as they had seen each other, they couldn’t be apart, and when she had come to him, he had showered her in rose petals and given her the brightest of jewels.

  Vanessa was still too young to consider that the thing she had tried to do with the king was far from love. Love did exist, of course, but prostitution had nothing to do with that. And if there was no love, why pay more? What did she have that other women lacked?

  Vanessa didn’t think about that, however. She was simply furious, and mostly, at the king.

  How could he do that?

  The worst thing was, however, that she couldn’t even blackmail him with a child, or remind him of their wonderful night together. There really was nothing to remember. She had simply been shown her place.

  She didn’t even realize she was behaving like a prostitute and Alex helped her to see that in the fastest, cruelest manner possible. She didn’t lose any potential prospects. In a way, his actions saved her from lots of troubles in the future.

  A maiden still had a chance to find her place in the world, but a king’s whore? Only while she had his favor; afterward, it was a steep way down.

  She could marry, of course, but she would never be happy in such a family…

  But Vanessa still didn’t understand any of this, and she lay crying in her room, biting on her pillow, and vowing revenge... And my revenge is going to be glorious!

  ***

  Right at that moment, Innis was talking to a ghost. Tidann Andago was calm and collected.

  “Can you release me?”

  “How?”

  “You’ll need to find the bones of your uncle, bury them, and release me using the blood of my kin. He’ll be avenged, and I’ll be at peace. But…you seem agitated. Is it Alex?”

  “Yes. Uncle, I wanted to have a serious conversation with you about...”