In a manse at the edge of Bael territory, Lady Misla Bael, sat upon a chair by the heart, her fists clenched in rage, as her fingernails dug into her flesh, listening to the story her son was recapping to her. The more she heard, the more her blood boiled, veins popping on her neck threatening to rupture.
The disgrace, the humiliation. For a Bael to fall to such lows that mere Marquis would dare turn him into a pawn? A pawn?!
She knew it was too good to be true. An invitation to a celebration, from a family they had no significant connection to. After they had been expelled from the main house, all of a sudden?
She should have never let Sairaorg go there alone. She should have known.
She blamed herself. She cursed the sickness that had been slowly taking hold of her, such that even small excursions had begun to exhaust her. The Sleep Disease. Incurable, untreatable. A death sentence writ long.
But if there was one thing she would do before she fell to it, it was to free her son from this nefarious plot to entoil their dignity among the rabble.
With that, she sent a message to Lord Phenex, requesting, in no uncertain terms, a meeting to discuss his actions, or negligence thereof.
"….and he said he wants me to start training with him tomorrow night! I'm so excited!" Her son cooed.
It truly heartened her to see him so happy- it was the cost at which it came that didn't sit right with her. She knelt down and picked up her son, putting him on her lap, and kissed his forehead as a deep pit settled in her stomach at thought of his birth, his life. If only she hadn't birthed him like this…if only…she had let him inherit the Power of Destruction, perhaps…
The guilt and shame battered against her pride and each day she felt herself losing the battle. Her pride as the once Great Queen Bael that kept her going had worn thin, her façade of dignity crumbling each day as she watched her son bear the insults and beatings. Now even Low Class devils had come to see them as easy targets. And where once she could have levelled a thousand of them to the ground with but a wave of her hand, now she grew weaker with each passing day, every gasp and breath she took.
Every ear she reached out to, every hand she so desperately hoped to clutch had turned her away, unwilling to go against the will of Zekram Bael.
After all, what benefit was there in helping a boy without demonic power, a devil that wasn't a devil and a queen so fallen she had to all but resort to begging?
Then came the sickness, and it pushed her to the brink of madness. Every moment she spent with her beloved Sai, she wanted to cherish, before…before the Sleep Disease took it all away from her.
So when something so good, too good to be true came through, she knew it was a trap from a mile away. A plot to use her beloved Sairaorg against his own blood. To spirit him away, mold him into a puppet ruler with their lowly fingers all over him.
How dare they?!
Her mind began to crumble and madness took root.
How dare they try to take him away from her? Her only son…her dear Sairaorg.
"Why don't we go meet Riser tomorrow, to thank them for helping you so much?" She suggested.
"Can we really? But he told me to take a nap in the afternoon..." Her little Sai perked up in excitement.
"You can start training later. They won't mind."
They better not. House Bael had not yet fallen so low as to need charity from a marquis. They were a kingly house. A king. A king does not accept charity from the peasants. He collects his due. With respect. And interest.
----------x----------
With the party over, the family gathered one last time to take account of the events of the night and share any significant pieces of information they had gleaned, practically a family tradition at this point.
And as the discussion came to a close, and Riser prepared to settle down for the night, his father placed one more issue at hand.
"Riser." He called out to me, "How do you feel about your engagement to Rias Gremory? Do you understand why we had to do it?"
I raised a questioning eyebrow. Where was this coming from? Didn't we discuss this already?
"The Phenex Clan's Revenues, while diverse to a certain extent, rely heavily on the sale of our Phoenix Tears. About 40% of our revenue comes from the medical sector, that is, the Phoenix Tears, another 21% from our land and real estate holdings and about 13% from the taxes we levy on these lands. Our largest competitor, the Sitri Clan, however, own over 58% of all medical facilities in the Underworld, more than double our 23%. They were also early to get into the media business and despite our best efforts, own a competing stake in DevilTV. By all metrics, we are wealthier, more influential, and have pound for pound better devils under us. We should have squashed them ages ago, if not for the one thing they have that we lack.
Serafall Sitri, the Satan Leviathan. They have a Satan Class devil while we, even with our three Ultimate Class ones, cannot match that power.
If we want to keep our competitive edge, we too will need a Satan on our side. The Gremorys have a Satan. Binding our families in marriage makes sense. Rias is a little young, but she'll grow up quickly enough." I rattled off.
My father nodded.
"Good. You remember." He paused for a moment, hesitating, as if questioning himself, "Riser, we just want you to know, that we all love you. And we don't want there to be any misunderstandings between us. We are not trying to sell you to the Gremorys."
"You're still our precious baby boy, and you'll remain so no matter what, no matter where you are. We would never abandon you." My mother added, holding my hand.
"We know what happened with Iolava. And I promise, if Rias grows up to be like that, I will break the engagement myself." Ruval patted my knee.
"And if she ever abuses you, I want you to remember, you can always return home. Your safety and happiness are more important to us than anything we could gain from this alliance." Rigal added.
I sighed. It was obvious what this was. But also, it was genuinely heartwarming. I felt warm and fuzzy inside, hearing that. I smiled.
"You heard me through the privacy wards."
"They are keyed to me. I get alerted whenever they are triggered. Naturally, I have ways of spying through them." My father said, "What you said in there, I didn't mean to intrude on your privacy, but I worry for you."
"I don't mind, dad. Its okay." I shrugged, "Besides, all that stuff I said, wasn't…well it wasn't a lie, but it wasn't entirely true either. I just said that to get Sairaorg to join my peerage. Don't worry about it. I know. I love you all too. I would never keep something like that from you."
"Then you are ready to talk about what you did with the Bael boy?" My mother asked.
"I know." I admitted, raising my hands, "He's a little troubled and a lot of trouble, but he's a good choice. I like him."
"Yes, because that is why you chose him." My father looked unconvinced, "Riser, you have great many admirable qualities, but your capacity for unfettered kindness and compassion is not one of them."
"I want to use him to get at the Bael throne." I came out and said it.
"I presumed as much." He sighed, "Riser, do you realize how dangerous this game you're playing is? Sairaorg may be all but exiled, yet he is still a Bael. I have already received a message from Lady Misla to meet her tomorrow morning. And that is nothing to say of the Bael clan proper. As unlikely as it is, if they come out and try to reclaim him, it would put us in hot water."
He appeared unnerved, but I knew him well. My father was just trying to test me. See how deep my reasoning went. A regular feature of the back and forth among us, as he taught me the ins and outs of noble politics.
"We are the Phenex. Hot water is basically an ice bath to us. Besides, would they really go down on their pride to take back one such that they threw away. I mean he barely has any demonic power, he has no clan trait, no outstanding talent or skill, save that which is his bloodline right to the throne, and even that is non-existent now that he has been delegated to obscurity in the countryside. At least that's what they know. Now, with the Mutation Piece on him, he has awakened his demonic power, and though he doesn't know it yet, because he has never felt it as such before, I clocked it the moment he used his first spell. It's at least Mid Class, at the lower end of it, and it will increase with training over time, plateauing somewhere around the middle of High Class at the worst, if my calculations are correct, maybe a little more. Though, I doubt that they would allow any member of another's peerage to become the heir in the first place."
"It does not matter. Lord Bael is a small, petty and supremely prideful man. He'd go to any length to maintain his and his clan's pride. And then there is Zekram Bael. Although he stepped down from the throne after the civil war in a token effort to hand the torch to the next generation, it is an open secret that the current Lord Bael takes no decisions without consulting his senior. The mouth may be Lord Bael's, but the words are Zekram's. His authority as one of the first and longest active devils is nothing to scoff at."
"Father, think about it. If Lord Bael does nothing without the approval of Zekram, then that means Zekram Bael approved of Sairaorg's expulsion. It means he definitely won't cause any trouble for us." I caught the silver lining.
"What if he did that deliberately to instill a sense of desperation in Sairaorg Bael, in the hopes that he awakens something, some sliver of power he could not in the comfort of Castle Bael?" Rigal considered.
"Now you're reaching…" Ruval laughed.
"Zekram Bael is many things, but a fool he is not. He is one of the greatest minds of his generation. If it is him, I believe there is still a chance…"
"Even better then." I said, "That means he just gave up his golden goose without any justification. And now, once we have finished raising him, even if he wanted, he couldn't ask for him back. We'll be able to drag him to the negotiation table and get ourselves a pound and a half of flesh from him. And trust me father, once I am done raising him, Zekram Bael will pay anything to bring him back into the fold."
"And what if he turns out to be a dud." My father countered.
"I met the current Bael heir in the garden on the way back. He is a soft boy. I don't think he will be difficult to pull down. And even if Sairaorg fails, we can still influence Magdaran. He likes plants, and has expressed interest, genuine interest, in visiting again. I think he is lonely at home, and his interests aren't encouraged. Knowing Lord Bael, he probably thinks his son's gardening hobby is a waste of time and below their station. Mom can work that angle with him, and that way we can keep our options open." I flipped a coin into the air and caught it mid-fall, grinning, "If what I'm planning works, we will have a Great King clan in the palm of our hands. Heads we win. Tails they lose. Trust my judgement, dad. I know it can work. If nothing else, we will have a better relationship with the Baels anyway."
"Riser, you are ten years old, you have no judgement." He said, rubbing his eyes, as he continued, "You know there are fines for not registering peerage members within three months, yes?" My father's expression had eased a fair bit by now and he began to see the potential in it, so I knew this was just a probing question, gauging my intent.
"We can just say we lost the paperwork, or forgot, or that he joined just recently and a number of other excuses. And even if all of that doesn't work…tell me father, what is the price of a few fines in the face of a Great King clan's fortune?"
My father grinned viciously.
"Worth it."
"Couldn't agree more." Ruval joined in.
"Are the two of you forgetting that we are talking about a child here? Where is your compassion? The poor boy may be a tool but at least treat him like a person!" My mother scolded.
"I did just spend an hour consoling him." I pointed out.
"We'll treat him nice." Ruval added.
"Practically like family." Rigal chuckled darkly.
"See honey, such nice, compassionate children we have." My father laughed, causing my mother to sigh in defeat.
"Do what you want." She said, throwing up her hands, "But if it blows up in your face…just remember, I want a bucket of popcorn to go along with the explosion."
"So we are keeping him?" I asked for confirmation.
"We will see, if it isn't too much trouble. But when Lady Misla visits tomorrow, you will meet her, and you will apologise to her for what you have done, and then if she agrees, we will go ahead with it."
"If she doesn't?"
"That will depend entirely on her attitude." He said, before adding in a serious tone, "But you will let me handle her. Do not jump in with your harebrained schemes. You are a clever boy, I know, but this is not your battlefield. Leave it to me. At worst, we will petition Lord Ajuka to remove him from your peerage."
"Gotcha."
I just know I am going to have to jump in, aren't I?
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I really gotta start putting a word count on these things man. This was supposed to include the Lady Misla Bael crashout, and yet here we are.
Next chapter, I guess.
By the way, we reached top ten in the fanfic fiesta competition! So close to top three. Everyone, Thank you very much. Y'all are the bestest!
Keep adding it to your library and don't forget to donate your powerstones.
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Also, it seems everytime I post a chapter, like 30 people drop this novel. What kind of curse is this? TToTT
Cast this spell on my competition yo!