Book 4 Chapter 5: Negotiations and Promises

++Vornholt’s hand was the greatest prize in Garamon for one reason or another before long, at least among the magicians. They were practically scrambling over one another to get it. None wanted it so badly, nor pursued it so obsessively, as the Vorets. For once, though, it seemed like they may be denied what they wanted.++

- An account from Duke Irinaq. 1,892 A.E.

I arrived at the Vorets’ estate shortly. It had been a good two months since they attacked me, and I had spent all of that time training. Bit by bit my power was growing, now having closed on the threshold of twenty eight thousand vis at max output. The resulting speed difference was not noticeable, but it would have shorn a good minute or so off my journey.

And that journey was already very short.

But of course my delay was not produced by travel time and distance, but by the ineffable arrogance of those I had come here to see. It did not matter that I had bested them, it did not matter that I was now among the wealthiest people—and likely the single wealthiest single woman—in Garamon, and it did not matter that each and every time we had talked brought some life-altering revelation to the Vorets’ doorstep, they were old and established and in their eyes it was only proper that I have my time wasted by sitting around waiting for them to finally deign to speak with me.

Infuriating. Inappropriate, ridiculous and displaying a miserable self-overestimation on behalf of those I was here to visit, but it was still, all in all, ultimately predictable. I weathered the disrespect as I had learned to do so.

At the very least, they had an acceptable foyer for me to wait in. I was served tea and biscuits, and the serving staff seemed utterly terrified of me, which was a source of great, petty entertainment as I probed them with questions and made them squirm at the thought of offending me.

When the Vorets finally decided that my allotted period of doing nothing had expired, a butler came to escort me through the family. Brown hair, going grey, not blonde of course. The Vorets likely did not want their own relatives to associate with me anymore, I could only imagine the poor things felt inadequate.

I knew the way already from the last time I had set foot here, but I allowed my escort to lead until we came to Exyria Voret’s quarters. I was gestured in, and pleasantly surprised to find another figure seated beside the family’s matriarch.

Aravon Voret did not look pleased to see me. In fact, if I had to find a single phrase to encapsulate the sort of emotions blended on his face, it would be by saying he had the look of a man who had recently been beaten up by a girl less than half his age, and was now seeing her again.

I smiled sweetly at him. “It is good to see your injuries have healed,” I told him. “I seem to recall they were extensive.”

A vein jumped up in his forehead, but he did not lunge across the table to strangle me. I took a seat opposite him and could not help but notice that Exyria Voret seemed as amused by the whole thing as I was.

“We’ve given you this meeting girl,” she said sharply. “I’m going to do you the courtesy of assuming it’s for more than just taunting my son.”

“A surrender of assets, perhaps?” Aravon Voret suggested. “You’ve finally seen sense and decided on marrying into us.”

“I am here for a marriage, yes,” I said. The look of utter surprise on both of their faces was to die for. Or to kill for.

It was not there for long, both were clearly practiced in burying their emotions.

“You just fought us tooth and nail to avoid doing that,” Exyria Voret noted dryly.

“I fought you to avoid being forced to do it on your terms,” I replied. “If you had come with a genuine offer instead of attempting to enforce your will on me, you would have received a far warmer reception.”

“Magic is power,” Aravon Voret shrugged. “And power is magic. We saw you were growing stronger with time and picked our moment to move. We just…misjudged how rapidly your strength had already accumulated.” I noticed that he actually said that with some degree of respect in his eyes. It seemed magician culture remained every bit what it had been millennia ago.

“Now you know better, and you can make me a sensible offer,” I suggested. “I will also inform you that I am currently waiting on arrangements with the Duke of Wolsingham for marriage.”

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Exyria Voret took the revelation with grace, while Aravon seemed rather like his circulatory system was attempting to escape. “That gibbering oaf?” he asked.

“The very same,” I smiled evenly. “He is very rich and promised to keep me in comfort and leave me to my own devices with utterly ludicrous funds for travel and study. Let us start there.”

Negotiations were rather satisfying, I had to admit. Whipping the Vorets when they attacked my refinery was one thing, but I had always known that a mere fraction of their strength had been involved in that engagement. Were any of the magicians there truly important members of their family, I would be facing far more animosity now for having killed them. That was, of course, why I had to be so particular about sparing Aravon Voret at the time.

Now things had changed. The Voret family had backed off and were licking their wounds, and my business had grown to be high profile enough that if anything were to happen with it, I doubted even they could evade the results of any subsequent investigation.

For the first time, they were being forced to negotiate with me in good faith and as equals. I wondered how much they were regretting their previous antagonism.

“We can provide all of those guarantees as well,” Aravon said quickly. “How does a million crowns a year sound, just for you?” His eyes glittered with the confidence of a man who knew he had just made a wholly irresistible offer.

“Not good enough,” I said shortly as I got to my feet and headed for the door.

“Five million,” Aravon called again, but I just ignored him as I started to leave. The door was halfway open when Exyria Voret finally spoke.

“What level of independence is the Duke promising you?” she asked me. I kept my hand on the handle for a moment, letting her stew before I turned back to answer the question.

“He says ‘high’, but thus far has refused to give any more details than that,” I replied.

He had not, in fact, even said that much. But that was the good thing about making them compete with the offer of a noble warrior instead of another magician, the Vorets and the Wolseys were simply not on good enough terms to coordinate and find out what I was demanding of the other.

“We need to discuss this then,” Exyria said before her son could cut in. I was rapidly getting the impression that the Voret patriarch was not quite the master of his own house.

“You may, you can even take your time if you choose,” I told her. “But I will not wait for long.”

“What do you want?” Aravon Voret asked me abruptly. “I thought at first you were just acting out of pride, like you wanted to just show that you could do what men did for its own sake, but that doesn’t line up. You’re here now accepting the prospect of a marriage. So what is it? What motivates you?”

The thought of telling him that, and watching him scream in terror, was surprisingly tempting.

“I want to remain in control of my life,” I said simply. “And I want to amass power. I will never stop amassing power. The family that binds itself to me will get to share in that power, but they will never get to control me.”

I looked him in the eye as I said this and watched him bristle. Exyria Voret, for her part, was entirely impassive, seeming to simply note down what I was saying academically.

“You must realise how few families will be willing to give you what you want?” Aravon Voret asked me.

“More than you might expect,” I said idly. “In any case, even if every family of Garamon refuses I will simply die a widow. This is a means to an end for me, nothing more.”

That seemed to inspire a thoughtful look upon both of their faces, and I lingered a moment to see if it would manifest as new offers. When it did not, I took my leave.

Five million crowns a year. It was, indeed, a vast sum. But it was so infinitely far from what I truly intended to get out of this. If I was tied to the Vorets by blood, their fate would be tied to me. I would have influence within the family, the power to sway them, and more importantly my actions would reflect on theirs.

They would be bound to me and incentivised to protect me. And if, under those circumstances, their ageing patriarch and elderly matriarch were to uncover the secret to eternal life…

Well, I had plans to amass power within Garamon before I started to attack from without it, and I saw no easier or more convenient path to achieving those plans right now than the Vorets. They were so perfectly placed at the centre of the Empire, and so thoroughly ostracised from its current rulership. Magicians have never been accepted. I hoped to turn that against my enemies.

Not right away, perhaps not soon, but putting them in a position where they could not discard me out of hand would be an important first step. From there I would work slowly but surely to ingratiate myself, always making sure I remained independent. And eventually I would be able to propose lichdom to the dying, ageing leadership of my new family.

Because that was the real advantage of my new breakthrough with body creation. Not that it could make me strong or fast, not on its own. It was the fact that I could now offer a person lichdom while ensuring that they continued to blend into Garamon’s society at once.

I would start with one. And I would make more, one after another, bit by bit. My apprentices would infect every strata of society. And in a hundred years time, I saw no reason why the Gods could not have their army of Demigods met by an army of physically superhuman liches.

It would not happen soon, but it would happen. Lord Dread had decreed it.