Wisher Beware

Chapter 33: Il Principe



Aikerim’s posture relaxed as she saw me but her gaze was still razor-sharp.

“Who is that?” She demanded, pointing her whip at my makeshift chair.

“I have no idea at all, my Domina,” I said, “But he was very eager to know me quite intimately.”

Her nostrils flared up as I showed her the noose, and the wooden handle groaned in her grip. Her eyes slowly panned back to Viter, making him shrink into himself even more.

I sighed. Judging by his condition, and the lack of obvious signs of physical punishment, Viter arrived a few minutes ago himself. Just enough for Aikerim to comprehend the situation, issue Sulla to form search parties, and visibly and vocally explain to the wertiger how deeply in shit he was. Judging by his overall rough appearance he was shaken quite literally.

All that, because some wermages finally decided to start their cloak and dagger dance. How fucking nice of them.

“My Domina, I want to apologize for the accident my slave had caused.” I spoke, “Please allow me to educate him.”

My first words had startled her, but my conclusion made her ponder in earnest. Trying to demand or even request anything from her, with Viter listening in, would yield nothing in return. Perhaps it would get me punished as well for the audacity to do so. This whole act put a bitter taste in my mouth and made my forehead itch, but I had to play by the rules of Emanai. And the rules demanded me to be deferential to the high ranking Domina, and my own owner to boot.

“Can you do it, however?” She asked.

“There is a first time for everything.” I shrugged, “Might as well start now, under your oversight as well.”

Aikerim thought for a moment as her eyebrows raised in curiosity.

The hand quietly presented the whip to me.

“Viter,” I said, shaking my head at Aikerim’s ‘offer’, “Have you managed to retrieve my pouch?”

“Yes, master.” He sullenly replied, watching our movements like a rat stuck in a corner watching the two cats deciding who will have him for dinner. “The pouch is right here.”

I extended my hand and he threw the pouch. Which I immediately emptied into my palm. A dozen of silver coin “cuts” drowned by a handful of bronze. A very hefty sum, for a day-worker that is.

“There are enough cuts in this pouch to feed and house a whole family for… thirty days. One could live off of it for an entire season alone if they would be careful not to spend too much. A real fortune for a street urchin, and a miserable loss of a normal citizen. I can see why you would be eager to retrieve it for me.”

I could see his eyes focus on me with a spark of hope or, perhaps, with appreciation that I chose to talk instead of using corporal punishments.

“My Domina, would you tell me how much you could spend on a wer bodyguard?” I turned back to Aikerim.

“On average, an unskilled fighter wer would cost a two thousand cuts of pure silver or eighty cuts of gold. I paid eighty-five for him.”

I ignored her jab, “And if I was being sold - how much would you be willing to buy me for?”

She smirked. “Knowing what I do now: your weight in gold at least.”

Viter choked on her words, but I nodded unperturbed. We both knew she was severely underselling my worth. I would’ve expected this price before I showed her that I could make much more than that in less than a week. But naming something more outrageous would serve little purpose here. Or she did not have enough wealth to offer more than that for a murk.

I quickly ran the numbers in my head. Judging by the average weight of a gold cut, my ‘price’ was more than a hundred wer slaves. Extremely impressive, for a murk.

“What you have to realize, Viter, what matters most is not the face value of an object, but the relative cost. You didn’t save me from the loss of twenty silver cuts or so, you left a bag of gold behind to chase a child through the streets. Imagine yourself drowning and I chose to save a loaf of bread instead. The loaf might be delicious, but incomparable in value.”

“Believe me, I will not make the same mistake again!” He said vehemently.

“You most likely won’t,” I nodded as I glanced at Aikerim only to point her to Viter and then to the door with my eyes, “Hopefully, my Domina would agree, but there are more pressing issues to discuss.”

“Yes, the body that you dragged in brings more urgent questions. Sulla!” She gestured to him to drag Viter away, “Especially a live one, why isn't he moving?”

I checked the vitals of my almost-kidnapper, “He is trippin’,” I said offhandedly as we were left alone in the room.

Aikerim glanced at his legs, the eyebrow slowly rose.

Feeling a little bit awkward under her gaze, I set his leg straight so it didn’t look as bad as it was before, “Umm, he is trippin’ hard. He will recover in a few paces, perhaps a period of time, but he should be quiet for now.”

She huffed and rolled her eyes, “That was a pathetic way of punishing your slave.”

“Because I do not want to punish him but to educate him instead. Aside from his initial blunder, he had made the best possible decision afterwards - informing you as fast as possible. If this is a work of one of the Houses, which I am more than certain about, something like this might happen again. And if I end up being kidnapped with him surviving, I would prefer that he would make the correct choice quickly, instead of wondering whether it might be better to waste more time trying to save me by himself, outright fleeing the city, or committing suicide.”

“If you would let the mistakes slide they will grow accustomed to your softness and will turn lazy,” Aikerim said, unconvinced.

“That is why I am paying them a little stipend.” I immediately refuted, “Now I can punish them without resorting to a whip by simply taking away something that they grew accustomed to.”

She shook her head. “You can do it because you only have a few of them under your command, and my own gold to waste on something so wasteful. More slaves you have - more time you will end up wasting to coddle them, only to be betrayed in turn. Or you will end up relying on your Prime to do the dirty work for you, soaking her hands in blood to keep yours clean.”

I frowned in distaste, imagining Irje with a whip, but pressed on, “A scholar of the past once wrote a codex. A codex about Power and how to keep it. He wrote it truthfully, without shying away from uncomfortable parts, unlike other writers who chose to write the idealized and virtuous ‘guides’ instead. He became notorious for his blunt explanations and many people after him were called Machiavellian in his name to highlight their underhandedness. But that was not the point of his codex. He wrote it not to teach those in power to be more insidious, for they already knew that, but to reveal these methods to the common folk. And in that codex, he had asked a question: Is it better to be feared or to be loved?”

“Judging by how you described him, I would expect him to say that the fear is the most appropriate, is it not?” Aikerim finally stopped staring me down and chose a more comfortable position on one of her sofas.

I nodded, “Indeed, the path of fear is safer, for love is more fickle in the eyes of others, while dread would never fail. Yet even he had said that the best course of action is to be both. But above all else, you should never be hated.”

She quietly pondered on my words, absentmindedly consuming fruits from the nearby table. My stomach quietly churned from the sight, the chase and the consecutive parkour across the city with the body of my shoulders had nearly evaporated my energy levels. Once again I was on the edge of starvation, but asking for a snack right now was not a good idea.

Because Aikerim was frowning more and more. And I knew why. She was beginning to connect the dots that I’ve provided throughout this meeting.

“So you want to use me making him fear me while loving you for your generosity? Have you forgotten who is giving the orders here?” She spoke imperiously.

“I am not using you at all, or I would not have said all these things out loud. And he already fears your wrath as it is, I just see no purpose in making him hate me with the punishments. The fear that I am the only thing that is holding your wrath would be more than enough. Please consider this as a trade between us.”

“A trade? So far it appears that I will have to do all the work, while you will be reaping all of the rewards. I do not see how this trade would be fair.”

“You would gain a faithful guard that will keep me safe, a task that you had bought him for. You have also gained a useful lever in the future bargaining from this altercation.” I nodded at the prone wercat on the floor, “He could not only provide you with some information on who hired him, but you might also trade him for concessions afterwards. Apart from that - ask of me, what is your next desire?”

A plum flew straight at my forehead, which I immediately caught with my mouth.

She huffed, “Work on your glass inventions, what I need right now is for the envoy to actually realize how little she can offer to us at this time. Which would make her pliant and most likely a non-issue until a full delegation from Esca would arrive. And then we would bargain in earnest.”

Our dialogue calmed down afterwards. Understanding that the crisis was over, Aikerim quickly informed Sulla to stand down the general readiness, which he probably had done already by that point. I wasn’t exactly sure that I was correct in keeping Viter’s back safe from Domina’s wrath, but his position was similar to mine. Stuck between the hammer and a hard place. To do nothing for him, while despising the same things done to me would make me a hypocrite.

The rest would be up to him, if he betrays my trust - he will be on his own.

I felt that Aikerim was of a similar mind. It wasn’t as if she trusted my reasoning, but she looked extremely curious to see the results. Most likely intrigued by the other achievements I had obtained in the past with my 'unusual' tactics. Especially the interpersonal ones.

In the meantime, I had informed her of my purchases and the altercation that resulted in the current situation, conveniently skipping on the meeting I had between the two. I also informed her of my plans to head out once again. While she wasn’t particularly eager to find out that I was planning to cross the manor walls so soon after, I was able to placate her by agreeing to bring a much bigger group this time around. And yield better results from my future purchases.

The kidnapping attempt was a surprise, but I would not let it dictate my plans. Especially since I had won the exchange so one-sidedly. Tomorrow might be the safest day to head out anyway. Whoever it was, they would be left confused and missing an agent, or a quick hire, with no idea what went wrong. They would plot and plan, spending their time thinking of something new, while I would roam undisturbed.

Unless there were multiple parties involved, but that is why I agreed to a larger entourage.

This also had absolutely nothing to do with the fancy seals I have ordered for Irje and Yeva. Nor the guitar body I had to pick up. Nope, nothing at all.

Our conversation didn’t last long. I had my own tasks to do, while Aikerim got herself a captive to secure for future interrogations. I decided not to think on how cruel said interrogations would be. If he had succeeded, I would have been in a similar position myself and begging Domina to treat him like a guest would achieve nothing in this day and age. Apart from marking me as extremely naive in her eyes.

It didn’t matter what my thoughts on these subjects were. Emanai had its rules and expected all to obey them unquestionably. Surprisingly even the highest ranks were beholden to them, which I’ve found quite unusual of an ancient society like this. But that only confirmed to me how high I would need to climb in order to openly and brazenly disregard the norms of society. Something that took Albin centuries most likely, and he was already born with a whole drawer of silverware in his mouth.

A quick run to the kitchens and I had turned my feet back to the workshop areas. Only to be lifted up by a very angry woman, who proceeded to drag me all the way to the soap workshop as I desperately tried to hold the chunk of cheese in my arms. My coveted feeding time was once again postponed as the two very important girls in my life took their time expressing their dissatisfaction with my shenanigans once again.

Surprisingly enough, it had taken me much more effort to make sure they would not attempt to skin Viter alive, once he would be released from Aikerim’s mercies. Domina promised me not to touch him, but Irje wanted blood. So did Yeva, judging by the rather vicious movements of her scrapping knife as she innocently enquired when she would see him again.

And it was Yeva that worried me the most. Irje was loud and rowdy, quick to explode but even quicker to forget. In fact, I had a strong suspicion that most of that ire would evaporate this very night. Yeva was of a different kind. Her lithe body and unassuming presence hid a cunning mind underneath. It took me days of confusion to realize someone had been swapping my shirts every night.

In order to wear them herself for the next day.

My yells of surprise were met with a giggle, a tiny tongue stuck out, and a peck on a cheek as thanks. In a matter of a single second, she turned me from being indignant at constantly being itchy breaking in the new shirts to standing there like a fish with the mouth open. Outwardly stupefied but inwardly giddy. Unable to refute her actions anymore and feeling thankful instead.

A lonely and shy bud that once would tremble from a rustle or a raised voice had slowly bloomed into a beautiful flower, full of happiness and sharp wit. And it warmed my heart seeing her smile faintly whenever I would approach her from afar.

“Yeva, love, please don’t hurt Viter,” I quietly murmured into her hair as she cuddled into my lap.

“Hmmm?” She hummed, “Not even an itching powder?”

“No,” I put my chin on her head, “The next few days might be hectic and I wouldn’t want him to make another mistake by being distracted.”

“You are too soft, Erf.” Irje ruffled my own head as she leaned into me, “If you continue to act like that, many would use you for their advantage.”

I gently smiled, enjoying their warmth. The soft and pliant flesh of Irje pushed into my side and a bundle of heat, that I enveloped in my arms, warmed up my body. I didn’t realize how much I needed that at this very moment. The constant stress of something happening. All that politicking, scheming, and fighting in the streets only to dive right back in as soon as I returned. And I had a feeling they felt it too. And nursed me back with their healing touch.

“Everyone deserves at least a single chance,” I murmured “As Sir Edwin said: ‘Pity makes the world... soft to the weak and noble for the strong’. But you are right, and I would not give out these chances often. Or more than once in many cases.”

Yeva sighed, “Your weird words again. And here I wanted you to show me some of your more active chemicals.”

“You know that I can’t do that. At least not yet. The safest observations of many reactions are done by sight, and I would be ill at heart knowing that you can easily poison yourself because you couldn't see what is happening, and unable to touch or feel it either.”

She squeezed me tight, “Thank you. Especially for the ‘yet’ part. I don't know how you would achieve it, but I feel like your most outrageous claims are somehow most likely to come true.”

“I don’t believe that Flow would be able to help much. From my own experience, Anaise attempts had done very little to affect the welts on my back, now that I think about it. But there are other ways around that. These would simply take a little bit more time to accomplish.”

“Speaking of Flow,” My hand slid up Irje’s thigh. “Is there a reason you are quite fuzzy down here?”

“Erf!” She squeaked indignantly, “Do you know how hard it is to shave it down there?”

“Yes, if you are a wermage that is.” I grinned at her, “The Flow inside your body makes your hair harder to cut. Yet another undeniable proof that you are one.”

“There is another undeniable proof that Erf is randy again. And it is poking me in the stomach.” Yeva snickered.

I got a bonk on the head. “And here I thought you are about to teach me some magic. But you simply needed a hand. Or, perhaps, a tongue.” Irje purred.

“No. That’s not it!” I tried to fight away the crawling hands, “That’s for later! And we need to get a lot of stuff done tonight. Irje! Are crucibles and the pre-heaters ready? Yeva! I got a new compound from the goldsmiths! The sodium borate would allow us to make borosilicate glass! Help!”

XXX

In the end, I have preserved my body and my upcoming presents from the very aggressive case of womanhandling. The shreds of my purity had remained intact and the hands receded, albeit only after securing the promise to continue later on.

My arguments weren’t without reason. We had big plans today. The most recent crucibles were good enough to hold the liquid glass, while the new exhaust system was able to bleed the heat to the incoming air, making the fires hot enough to liquefy said glass quickly and easily.

The system still had quite a few faults and was unlikely to operate for more than a couple of attempts, but that was not the issue. This was the attempt at the prototype, not at mass production.

Surrounded by extreme heat all around, and many slaves with the best protective gear we could come up with, we started making something that was most likely never been seen in this world until today.

The float glass.

A red-hot crucible slowly turned, pouring the molten glass into a bath of molten tin, spreading across the surface. The reliance on manual labour meant that we had to work quickly both to prevent accidents and to pour it while the surface of tin was still pure and clear. The lighter layer of glass floated on top of the tin allowing the puddle to spread and achieve significant flatness with gravity alone.

We lost our first two attempts and succeeded with three more when the furnace melted on us. The surviving sheets of glass were carefully placed in the annealing oven to cool overnight, and only then I allowed myself to relax once again. Yet I couldn't stop grinning as I wiped the flowing sweat from my body, history was being made today.

I’ve called the day early, allowing the workers and my girls more time to relax after the ordeal. But the day was not yet over for me. I headed to my alchemy lab right after a quick shower. While another step of the “Fuck the Snake” plan had been achieved there were still many others to be done.

A piece of flat glass wasn’t really an impressive sight. Even a piece of very clear flat glass.

But a mirror would rock their socks off. Or whatever the lamias wore on their tails. Perhaps she would just rattle like a rattlesnake.

But for that, I needed silver nitrate.

And for that, I needed alone time with a bunch of caustic reagents to get myself a nice clear cup of nitric acid. Just as Yeva had reminded me about, It was nothing crazy as long as I didn’t need a few litres of it. Yet there was still quite a lot of tedious work. Mostly to purify the reagents and the products. It is as they say: ‘garbage in - garbage out’. And I had no plans on making garbage anytime soon.

And while the reactions were quietly bubbling I could do some recreational carving.

A door opened behind me, surprising me with the unexpected sound. The lab was off-limits to nearly anyone after the Aikerim’s decree. I turned sharply only to sigh and relax as Anaise slowly closed the door behind her. The emerald eyes sparkling in the dim twilight of the evening. Her ears low.

“You have made quite a commotion in the morning.” She slowly murmured.

“Yeah, it appears that some House wanted to make an unscheduled meeting.” I scratched the back of my head. “And it didn't look like they cared if I said ‘no’.”

“And yet you are back here, unharmed. Still tinkering with your potions.” She nodded at the bubbling retorts behind me. “You are an enigmatic person Erf, almost like a bird. Happy to sing your songs wherever you are yet thrashing wildly anytime someone tries to grab you.”

I smiled as I glanced at the sky through the window. Soon the stars would come out once again. The stars that I have been missing all this time. Or the freedom they represented. Space was vast and free and one would need to be of a certain breed to enjoy it fully. And Anaise was very close in her description.

“You are right, Anaise. I love the freedom of the sky, but I also know my obligations. And I return to the Manor to craft my trinkets and share my knowledge. For the Manor is more than just a cage. It gives shelter, food, and knowledge I do not have.”

“Really?” She walked closer to me, her face lit by a nearby oil lamp. The flickering flames shining on her rosy cheeks, full in a sullen pout. “Then how come you have avoided my bath today?”

My faint smile evaporated. Anaise’s bath. The promised one after her mother interrupted her initial plans. And then postponed with Aikerim's own only to be followed by that fateful meeting of yesterday. And tonight I’ve skipped it on my own volition. Stuck in the alchemy lab where no slave apart from me had access to. Not even the messenger slave to relay the summons of the Lady of the House.

Whoops.


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