Chapter 11: The School of the Doomed (6) | The Hundred Reigns
Simon should have known that Anna's 'study session' was just an excuse to drink with friends.
She lulled him into a false sense of security by only inviting him and Casval to her and Tiella's bedroom, which turned out to be more of a colossal suite with separate bedchambers, a waiting hall, and an expensive salon adorned with scandalous portraits of frolicing dryads, fairies, and satyrs. Simon only had to take a look to notice the stark difference in standing between an imperial bastard and a true princess of pure blood.
Simon guessed something was up when Anna insisted that they eat dinner before studying and then ordered all the servants and men-at-arms out of the suite, but it was only when she brought out the Navarran wine bottles that his faint hope of doing anything academic died inside his heart.
The things I do for her, Simon thought as they sat on a wolfpelt carpet near the suite's fireplace. The foyer's flame and the moonlight filtered through the window reflected in their filled glasses. At least she's enjoying herself… maybe a bit too much.
"Alright, here's the plan!" Anna slapped her hands together, then raised a stick of chiseled wood. "This is my wand of truth, and it lets me ask any one of you a single question that you must answer truthfully. Refuse, and I shall curse you with a dare and a full glass of wine!"
"Joke's on you, I'm immune to curses," Simon joked. Anna and Tiella laughed while Casval merely chuckled.
"Daring, are you? In that case, you shall be the first to suffer my magic!" Anna smiled from ear to ear. "Unfortunately, my wand of truth has only one charge, and I must grant ownership to the person to my left to recharge it."
"Who will then ask a question?" Casval guessed with the most deadpan look possible.
"I knew you were the smarter of the two," Anna replied while Tiella giggled. "And we shall continue this trial until we are too drunk to hold the wand of truth."
"I knew this evening would end like this," Simon complained. "I knew it, and I still let you trick me."
"Cry me a river." Anna pointed her 'wand' at him. "By the power of my stick of truth–"
"I thought it was the wand of truth," Casval cut in.
"Whatever," Anna replied. "Simon, I compel you to reveal to me the secret that frightens Thalas so much!"
Gee, who could have seen that one coming?
"Dare," Simon replied immediately.
"You're no fun, everyone is speculating!" Anna complained. "Let me guess: the Overlord slept with Antonine!"
"What?" Simon scoffed. "Father, with his daughter-in-law? What makes you think that?"
"Because she's a whore," Tiella said. The way she struggled to hold her glass of wine and spoke up without being talked to first suggested she had already taken a little too much alcohol tonight. "She's a gold digger who would cheat on her fiancé in a heartbeat if it benefited her."
"I heard she tried to seduce Louis and settled for Thalas when she failed," Anna said before studying Simon's expression. "It's not that… did Louis sleep with Antonine then?"
"I won't say anything about the matter," Simon replied. "I've picked my poison."
"Fine, then dare. You have to kiss someone here on the lips, your pick. And don't forget your glass of wine. You have to drink all of it."
Simon rolled his eyes and drank. The wine was good at least—very good—but he didn't feel the alcohol doing much. Maybe his innate poison resistance diminished its effects?
Simon glanced at the others. Anna was all but daring him to pick her, because she would relish the scandal; Casval stared at him with a blank, neutral expression, and Tiella anxiously clutched to her robes, hoping to be picked. Simon thus strategically picked her, much to her joy.
He had little experience kissing girls, and Tiella stank more of wine than flesh, but he would be lying if the feeling of her lips on his own wasn't pleasant enough. He thought she would pull back in embarrassment, yet she pressed against him even harder than he did, and blushed red when he pulled back.
"I'm disappointed in you, Simon," Anna said. "I'm very disappointed. I hoped you would go for the scandalous route of kissing your lovely honorary cousin or this handsome friend of yours, and yet you go for the safe route."
"We're not blood related, Anna," Simon replied. "You can't make this weird."
"I didn't mind either," Tiella replied with a giggle.
"Tough luck, now the wand is mine," Simon replied upon seizing the stick. He quickly confirmed it was a perfectly normal piece of wood. "Are we going to study tonight, Anna?"
"Truth, and the answer is no," Anna replied while sipping her cup anyway. "I'm not here to study."
"Yes, I figured as much."
"No, I mean, I am not really at the academy to study," Anna replied. "I'm here to find myself a husband."
"A husband?" Casval asked with interest. "Why's that?"
Anna gave him a rather salacious look. "Offering yourself?"
"I am simply curious, Your Highness."
"Such a bad liar, yet too handsome to chastise." Anna played with her glass. "I am looking for a husband because Father said I could either pick someone this year or he would marry me off himself after graduation. I'm a good pick, being the Overlord's niece, the heir to the Berwick Islands, and the loveliest woman in all the realm."
"Debatable," Simon replied, everyone else laughing at his words. Why? It wasn't a quip; it was the honest truth.
"Tiella, do you see how he treats me after I saved his life? He's too bold by half." Anna sipped from her cup again. "Anyway, I would rather make my own choice and enjoy myself beforehand with the boys of this fine institution. Maybe try them all until I find the right one."
"A vast selection," Tiella joked upon seizing the wand for herself, which was something rare enough to be noted. Alcohol truly made her more sociable. "Casval, do you have a girlfriend?"
"No, I do not have a mate," Casval replied flatly. "I do hope to find one one day."
Anna exploded in laughter. "Who says mate nowadays? But good to know."
"Your turn, then," Tiella said upon giving Casval the wand.
"Thank you." Casval immediately pointed the evil artifact at its new target. "Simon?"
"Yes?" Simon replied.
"Do you have a Class?"
It took all of Simon's willpower not to shake or drop his glass of wine. He thanked the fact that his Class' poison resistance had diminished the alcohol's effect and let him keep his composure. Was he suspecting the truth? What gave Simon away? Was it just an innocent question after seeing Anna use her own against Thalas?
No time to think!
"No," Simon lied through his teeth. "I wasn't allowed to have one as a bastard. I hope to gain one when I graduate."
"Understandable," Casval replied with a nod. Simon had no idea if he believed him or not. "Do you have a Class, Tiella?"
"Rulebreaker!" Anna pointed a finger at him. "Only one question per person! You get an extra dare for your trouble!"
"I don't have a Class either, though I hope to get the same as my brother," Tiella replied. "That or a spellcaster-type Class, so I can do magic."
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"I see." Casval nodded and drank his cup. "What punishment must I suffer?"
"Such a dutiful boy." Anna turned to her handmaid. "Tiella, your pick?"
"He has to kiss me on the lips," Tiella decided immediately.
"Greedy girl," Anna said with a chuckle. "You've heard her, Casval."
Simon watched Casval moving in to kiss Tiella without any particular enthusiasm. So many questions came to mind. Had he guessed that Simon somehow had a Class, or was he just curious? Maybe his paranoia was leading him astray.
Whatever the case, Tiella seemed much less into the kiss than the one she shared with Simon earlier. She exchanged a glance with Anna, and Simon could have sworn they somehow talked with looks alone, that they had agreed on a plan.
What's going on here? Were they all in on it?
Simon spent the rest of the game on edge, even after the questions moved from intimate to childish, like their crushes, their friend circles, who wanted to sleep with whom, and other frivolities. Simon answered honestly and kept away from the bottle even as alcohol continued to flow, until an inebriated Anna eventually pointed her wand at Casval and asked–
"Do you want to fuck me?"
Simon blinked in surprise. It was as if he had been struck by lightning. "What?"
"Uh, sure, Your Highness," Casval replied. He looked rather well for a man who had drunk over two bottles on his lonesome.
"Wonderful, then carry me." Anna had Casval help her get up, then blew Simon and Tiella a kiss. "We won't come back."
Simon watched as the two left for Anna's bedroom in utter confusion. He turned towards Tiella in search for an answer, only to find the young woman smiling back at him with the expression of a person whose plan had begun unfol–
Oh.
Oh…
"So, uh…" Tiella shyly stroked her hair. "Do you… want to see my room?"
His night with Tiella was… nice.
She had taken a bit too much wine, so he had to do most of the work, including carrying her to her bedroom and the opulent bed inside. Tiella clearly had very little experience with a boy from her fumblings—he even wondered if he was her first—and cried halfway through because 'the Light was watching' or some nonsense, but she was a good kisser, and most importantly, eager. Simon didn't recall ever being with a woman who actually wanted him with no hidden motives.
In fact, he liked it enough that he would have suggested a second round had she not fallen asleep soon after he finished. Her snores soon echoed across the bedroom.
I've been played. The thought wouldn't leave Simon's mind even after he began to dress up again. Was this Anna's plan from the start? Setting me up to entertain her handmaid while she amused herself with Casval?
Part of him hoped it wouldn't be a one-time thing, and the rational part of him argued it wouldn't lead to anything serious. Tiella remained a marquis' daughter and well out of his league. This had been a short distraction, nothing more.
Since he was still awake and nowhere near drunk, Simon moved back to the fireplace to clean the place up. While he knew the servants would clean up the mess later, it would be a shame if Anna's carpet stank of alcohol in the morning. He was sorting through the discarded bottles when he heard someone step out of Anna's room for their own post-bedding midnight walk.
"So?" Simon asked as he turned to face the newcomer.
"I cut it short," Casval said.
He was fully clothed, and had a bloody sword in his hands.
Simon's eyes widened in shock. "The blood–"
"Anna's," Casval replied calmly.
He then drove his sword straight through Simon's stomach while he was still stunned.
The pain was as sharp as the blade and the surprise. Simon would have screamed or grunted if Casval hadn't quickly covered his mouth with one hand and used the other to drive the sword deeper. He felt far stronger than his lean frame would imply, even managing to push Simon towards the fireplace.
"Don't blame me, Simon," Casval said without remorse or guilt. "Blame your usurper blood and misplaced loyalty."
The bastard! Casval was no spy; he was an assassin! He had lowered Simon's guard with tales of Kish treasures and then went straight for the kill after confirming that only Anna had a Class among them!
Simon saw red, and the Overlord within him answered his fury with strength.
Black armor made of miasma grew over his skin, snapping Casval's sword in half and repelling his hand from Simon's mouth. The assassin took a step back when he found the Overlord facing and towering over him.
"A Class?" Casval gasped in surprise. He hadn't been expecting that. "You lied! You lied to me!"
The traitor had the gall to sound offended.
Simon's hands closed on the bastard's throat and began to choke the life out of him. He sensed Casval's breath leave his windpipe when his metal-garbed fingers pressed on his skin and neck. He exercised enough power to shatter stone or snap a tree in two—he had done as much in Duchar's maze—yet Casval's body felt unnaturally resilient. There was something solid beneath his skin, a hidden shell protecting him.
Casval thrashed around even as Simon lifted him up from the ground, punching and kicking the armor with far more strength than a non-Class user should be capable of. Unfortunately, Simon's own pain didn't subside either, because part of Casval's sword remained stuck in his stomach. The Overlord's surge of power only lessened the agony.
He had no time to waste.
Hence, Simon dragged Casval away from the fireplace, lifted him up above his head, and then flung the bastard through the window. The glass shattered on impact, and the assassin fell into the night from the highest possible floor. Simon heard the crashing noise of Casval hitting the courtyard before he looked out to see his mangled corpse below. Served him right.
"Anna?!" Simon shouted upon rushing towards her room, first in disbelief and then despair. "Anna! ANNA!"
No answer came out of Anna's room and he could guess what he would find on her bed.
Simon cursed his naivety. He hadn't blinked at Anna bringing someone like Casval into her quarters because the very idea that he would try anything had been unthinkable. Who would be mad enough to kill a princess of Endymion in the middle of an imperial stronghold? Who would even dare?
The same people who had killed the Overlord, Simon realized. Father's murderers pursued me all the way to Telluria.
But why kill Anna? Casval looked like he had no idea Simon was the Overlord in disguise, so the two of them had been his targets by virtue of their proximity to House Magnos alone. Were Father's assassins trying to wipe out the entire line–
Flap.
Simon turned back to the window and saw a ghost in the moonlight.
Casval was floating in front of the shattered window with batlike wings growing out of his back, a reptilian tail coiling between his legs, and two reptilian eyes glaring at Simon.
"By the Light–" Simon muttered in disbelief.
Casval opened his mouth, and white fire poured out of it.
It was his second time dying in a fiery explosion, and it proved just as painful as the first. Perhaps even more so since the sword stuck in his stomach heated up faster than his miasma-infused flesh, and the Overlord armor cooked him alive like a chicken in an oven.
Death was never quick nor merciful.
The Crimson Throne welcomed him again, its baleful eyes observing Simon's spirit with malice. It offered no condemnation nor mockery this time; only a silent promise of revenge and retribution should he decide to pursue both.
This is the fifth of your hundred reigns.
You have earned the title of Simon the Betrayed.
The Betrayed: You have been betrayed by someone you almost trusted. You take half damage from critical hits or sneak attacks striking at your back.
Almost trusted. What a joke.
He had never trusted Casval; he simply underestimated him. He had thought him a mere opportunist rather than a bloody assassin.
Moreover, Casval's inhuman appearance pointed to him being either a monster in disguise or him possessing a Monster Class of some kind. He was dangerous.
Could he have been the one to slay Father? Simon somehow doubted it. Whoever poisoned him in a previous reign had been either one of the highest-ranked councilors in the realm or a cupbearer. Casval had nothing to do with either, according to Meredith's investigation on his past.
This had to be a group effort.
Simon's mistake was to think the conspiracy only wanted the Overlord dead. If an assassin struck at him and Anna, then they intended to wipe out the entire Magnos bloodline and its closest allies. Either Simon had only been a collateral in Anna's murder, or the killers had marked even bastards like him for death.
Escaping to the academy and staying out of political view would only delay Simon's demise. He had to either destroy the conspiracy or hide somewhere beyond their reach. Simon briefly considered vanishing into the wilderness rather than travel to Telluria, since his Overlord Class would let him survive and defend himself, but he couldn't leave Anna to die.
No. The very thought infuriated Simon.
It was one thing to strike at him, but to harm and slay the woman who had his back against Thalas? Someone so kind and innocent? One of the very few people Simon truly loved and cared for?
That was a sin that could not, and would not, go unpunished.
Vengeance, Simon promised himself with a heart full of righteous fury. Vengeance will be mine.
Neutralizing Casval alone wouldn't suffice to protect Anna. Whatever creature he was, he also potentially belonged to a highly influential organization capable of assassinating the Overlord. They would send someone else if he failed. Simon had to put that entire mystery group on the back foot, to force them to focus on much bigger threats than a bastard and Anna. He had to hit them so hard they would be too busy fighting for their lives to bother him.
Moreover, he also recalled that that female Kish prisoner was scheduled for death. An idea came to him, one that would let him kill many birds with one stone. One that he could feel that the Crimson Throne approved of.
Simon would destroy Casval's conspiracy, take his revenge, recover the Kish woman, and get Thalas off his back in a single move.
Events unfolded like they did in the previous four reigns. Simon was now certain that he alone possessed the strange magic, and that his actions alone determined the course of fate. He was akin to a rock that could reroute a river.
And his new and improved imperial testament should redirect the flow of fate his way.
"My material wealth shall be equally split between my trueborn children," the Keeper of the Throne read. "To my natural born children, I bequeath a stipend of two thousand silver coins a year, to be paid by the state in perpetuity. To my eldest bastard, Simon, I shall bequeath his pick of any five slaves."
There, that should neatly solve the Kish problem. Naming her directly would have been awfully suspicious, but who would blame Simon if he generously transformed a prisoner's death sentence into a slavery one? And here comes the real show stopper.
"I do hereby bequeath my Class, throne, and titles to my chosen heir," the Keeper read while the height of the imperial aristocracy listened. "Casval Ashmodai."
Why investigate the conspiracy yourself when he could put both imperial factions on the case?
Don't blame me, Casval; blame your treachery, Simon thought with glee as Louis and Empress Euphemia quickly left the imperial bedroom to call up the hunt. Kill me once, hounds on you.