The Hundred Reigns 111: The Cocagne Affair (11) (Patreon)

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Half the arena had fallen to pieces.

Most of the slave cells had already been buried in debris by the time Simon reached them, and though he managed to blast a few open on his way out, he could tell the death toll would be horrendous. The beasts in the fighting pit had managed to climb out of it and escape at least. Fear, and the absence of living guards to stop them, had given them the resolve and opportunity to flee. Simon doubted they would remain at large for long with their clipped wings, but perhaps they could make their way back to the wild and freedom.

Simon himself escaped through the cove as planned, using a Fiendmask to change his appearance and swim across the water thanks to his inhuman strength. He eventually made his way to a small fishing boat anchored nearby belonging to one of Remedia’s Shadowguards, who smuggled him away right as half the colosseum collapsed in on itself. The resulting cloud of dust could be seen all across Lafontaine. 

Simon had the feeling that arena tourneys would become a lot less popular in the coming months.

Queen Remedia quickly took charge of the disaster relief, pretending to have been informed through divinations and teleporting into Lafontaine to help with the rescue operations. Simon himself participated under disguise; healing the wounded, blasting away debris, and so on. He had little pity for most victims since they had come to bet and rejoice in the deaths of slaves fighting for their entertainment, but passerbies, slaves, and families had also been caught in the disaster. 

When night arrived, Remedia invited Simon to a private meeting in another safehouse to discuss the matter away from prying gazes. This one had a window, unlike the last, so they could watch Lafontaine’s lights while eating.

And the queen looked pissed. 

“I told you to cause a public incident, not to destroy the entire arena!” she angrily snapped at him once they met in private. “What happened?!”

“The Cobweb had a self-destruct mechanism in place and triggered it,” Simon argued, trying to calm her down. “They were doing dreadful things there.”

Thankfully, Remedia listened to his explanations and used divination spells to confirm some of them, her anger giving way to worry and concern. She looked rather shaken by the end of his tale.

“My Shadowguard and divinations tell me that the death toll rises into the hundreds, and many more are still buried,” Remedia informed Simon as she poured him a glass of wine. She spilled while pouring it. The situation had shaken her. “This went way overboard, Simon. We were lucky there weren't more victims.”

“I didn’t know what I would find there, and neither did you,” Simon countered. He didn’t want her to think he had planned for this chaos in any way. “The mere fact the Cobweb thought this would be the best way to cover their tracks means they were doing something terrible down there.”

Remedia’s jaw clenched, though she was wise enough to take him at his word. “What is this Cobweb, truly?” She asked sharply. “Certainly not a mere criminal organization.”

“I don’t know, and that’s what bothers me,” Simon confessed as he took his glass. “Was that door corridor a teleportation network? A pocket dimension?”

“I am not certain,” Remedia admitted. “Teleport is usually a Tier VIII spell, and creating a permanent portal between two or more locations is in the realm of Tier IX spells or above, but there are always obscure tricks and loopholes to consider. It could be one of the Rogue’s Perks, if they truly lead this Cobweb organization, or some summoned demon or monster’s unique ability. Some kind of fairy would make sense from their heavy use of fetches.”

“Fetches?” Simon inquired. The name didn’t ring a bell.

Remedia scowled as she sipped her wine. “Some malevolent fairies like to play a cruel prank on human families. They take newborn children to raise as their own, then craft a simulacrum of the kidnapped child from snow and dust to take the original’s place with none the wiser. The copy moves like a human, breathes and smiles like us, but it is utterly soulless and devoid of emotion. An empty shell whose true nature only becomes clear upon destruction.”

“The smilers…” Simon considered this information, and realized he didn’t like the implications one bit. “You think the Cobweb has fairies in its ranks?”

“Possibly. There are other ways to craft fetches. Powerful crafters or spellcasters could do it.” Remedia gazed into her drink. “You said they were running an alchemical experiment on the shifters? To what end?”

Simon shook his head, though he had his theories. “The Cobweb is looking for the Zodiac Fiends’ crystals, and someone told me once that one of their archdemons originally created the Shifter Tribe. It may be that shifters show a stronger predisposition for becoming Zodiac Fiend hosts than humans.”

“You suggest they were trying to… craft demon hosts?” Remedia asked, her scowl deepening. “Being possessed wouldn’t suddenly lift the host’s slave brands and seals, but this is still pure madness. Would this Prince of Spiders truly be so foolish?” 

“I do not know,” Simon conceded. Silk had tried to enslave Asterion and the Stone Muse on the Prince’s behalf and bound the Crab in a book, so he didn’t think they were truly working towards unleashing the Zodiac Fiends upon the world. Not without safeties in place, at least. “I’m not even sure who they are, let alone what they’re after. All I know is that they have no honor and their greed is boundless.”

“How did it come to this?” Remedia wondered, her hand tightly gripping her glass. “We must get to the bottom of this, Simon.”

“I know,” Simon agreed. The Cobweb was clearly playing with fire. “I have recovered the Ninja’s soul and Crestone. Our jester, Gourmand, can extract knowledge from dead souls. He is currently in Frightwall, but Euphemia could lend him to you for some time to entertain Norbelle.”

“Yes. I will research spells that can coax information out of this Renal’s soul too.” Remedia nodded to herself. “In the meantime, I will take no risks. I will have my Shadowguard strike any location associated with the Cobweb in the Queendom.” 

Simon raised an eyebrow. “I thought you lacked the political ammunition to strike at them openly?”

“The slaves’ deaths are a tragedy, as was that of the citizens caught in the arena’s collapse, but this will be an ill for good.” Remedia moved to the window, a grim look on her face as she observed the arena’s ruins in the distance. “Survivors among the slaves told us their captors regularly ran blood tests on them. I can blame the disaster on a failed demon summoning and use the outrage to tightly increase arena security measures, or at least give the gladiators better treatment.”

“I see.” Simon nodded. “You can count on my help to wipe them out. The world will be better with fewer webs in our attics.”

Remedia scoffed at his quip. “What would your family think, if they learned the Overlord had become an arachnid exterminator?”

“They would think they could do a better job as Overlord.” Simon shrugged. “And they would probably be right.”

“If you ask me, it is a blessing for us all that the Class chose you rather than someone like your brother Louis,” Remedia mused. “In spite of how things unfolded, you did fulfill one of my wishes, Simon… you will not find me an ingrate.” 

“But the other still troubles you,” Simon noted. He could read the worry written on her face. “What’s on your mind?”

“Besides the fact that criminals were running demonic experiments on my citizens right under my nose?” Remedia sighed. “Empress Euphemia informed me she struck a match between her son Thalas and Lord Paimon’s daughter. The Berwick Islands will rise with us.”

Simon knew that it was only a matter of time before events unfolded this way, but he couldn’t suppress a scowl of annoyance. “This is good news for you.”

Remedia noticed his frustration. “Does their marriage displease you, Simon?”

“I loved Anna Paimon once,” Simon said. And I still do. “I had hoped to marry her myself, had I been better born.”

Remedia gave him a look full of sympathy. “Our choice of partners is so often out of our grasp,” she said, finishing her wine. “As for why it worries me… while this is good news for us, this also means that Louis won’t take the alliance lying down, and I doubt he will remain unaware of our discussions with the Magvolian royalists for long. Either we strike first, or he will.” She took a long, deep breath. “I can only pray your strategy will pay off.”

“It will,” Simon promised her. After all, he had already lived through similar events and hedged his bets.

Remedia forced herself to smile, though it failed to reach her eyes. She turned away from him and stared at the night sky in silence. Her tension was palpable. And why wouldn’t she be tense? From her perspective, her country was about to roll the dice and enter an uncertain future. Wars were always bitter affairs without the benefit of foresight. 

“The last Rogue slew my mother when I was seventeen,” she said, breaking the silence. “Navarre still held the Class back then, and their Rogue clashed with my mother over a border dispute. He robbed her of her magic when she was flying, and she fell to her death from on high.” The queen bit her lip. “Now I am starting a covert war with someone who might be their successor, and my country has no princess to take over should I die.”

Simon hesitated a moment, as he knew what his mind suggested to him would be highly improper, but he decided to push through anyway. He moved behind her and put his arms around her waist, pulling her into a gentle embrace in an attempt to reassure her. She didn’t resist him, and he could tell she appreciated the gesture.

“I must look pathetic,” Remedia said, her hands resting on his arms. “The Mage, mistress of sorcery, acting so nervous in front of the Overlord… my subjects would jeer at me if they could see us.”

“You’re not pathetic,” Simon reassured her. “I can tell you’re not worrying about yourself.”

“I don’t want my son to die waging war with Endymion,” Remedia admitted. “Verdis… Gargauth slew his grandfather during a skirmish. Should the War Party’s airships come…” She turned her head and met his gaze, imploring him. “Do you promise me this will work?”

“I will make it work,” Simon insisted softly. 

His confidence reassured her a bit. “I suppose this is the bright side of devil bargains,” she mused. “They may twist the terms, but they always fulfill them.”

Simon held her gaze for a moment, neither of them saying a word. He became acutely aware of the way her soft fingers held on to his arms, the proximity between them, the way the queen appeared to wait. 

It was there that Simon realized he wanted her. 

Not to play into Norbelle’s plans, not for the Mage Crestone, but because he wanted her now. 

And why shouldn’t he? Anna was to be married off to Thalas again, and Cassandra was half a continent away. Filip already hated him enough to order an attempt on his life, and he liked Remedia. She was wise, charming, strong… he couldn’t deny he desired her. 

And if he wasn’t misreading things, she liked him too. Inviting him to this private safehouse, hidden away from sight, with her husband a continent away… Simon struggled to see this as a coincidence. Remedia wanted this, maybe even fantasized about it, but she was afraid to cross that line, knowing the consequences. 

So he did. 

Simon pressed his lips against her own and kissed her ferociously. He could taste her desire and hesitation, both clashing, alongside the strawberry sweetness of her flesh. 

“This is a mistake,” Remedia said almost immediately afterwards, more to convince herself than Simon. “I am married, and twice your age.” She didn’t push him away though, not even when his hand moved down her thigh and his lips began to kiss her neck. “This will be a scand–” 

She let out a gasp when his fingers finally found their way beneath her skirt, and he knew it was over. Her hands began to guide him along, and her lips searched for his own. 

Norbelle’s plan had finally come to fruition. 

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The night of pleasure that followed was a blur.

Simon vaguely recalled carrying Remedia to bed, then being carried upward by one of her levitation spells and making love to her against the ceiling. She teleported them between kisses, first on a beach in Navarre where the warm water flowed over them, then on a bed of flowers under the stars. The queen was a voracious and experienced lover too, casting healing spells to keep the action going to the point Simon had to drain his cows of their lifeforce just to keep up.

He finally realized why his father had rated her so highly in that damn book of his. Magic improved lovemaking like spice seasoned even the best of foods. The forbidden aspect of the entire endeavor only made it taste all the sweeter. 

By the time they teleported back into the queen’s safehouse and rested on the bed within, fully satisfied, Simon could only think of one thing: doing it all over again. 

“That was a mistake,” Remedia said with her head resting on his shoulder. She hadn’t taken off her crown or her necklace at any point, which Simon had to admit only heightened the experience. “A terrible mistake.”

“Probably,” Simon conceded, “But I’d do it all over again.”

She chuckled at his answer, and he could tell she shared the sentiment. “I needed this,” she confessed. “I haven’t made love to a man in over a decade.”

“Huh?” Simon blinked in surprise. “Why?”  

“I…” Remedia hesitated. “Filip often pleasured me with his fingers and lips, but…” She blushed and avoided his gaze. “I shouldn’t tell you this.”

“I think we’re past the point of secrets now,” Simon pointed out. She only had to inform his siblings and Euphemia that he was the Overlord to cause him far worse headaches than this affair. 

Remedia bit her lip and pondered his words before relenting. “Filip is… cursed.”

“Cursed?”

“It happened a bit over eleven years ago, when we decided we would finally try for a daughter,” Remedia said as she pulled the blanket closer, covering her breasts. “He… failed to perform. When I tried to help with magic, I realized he had fallen prey to a terrible sorcery.” 

“A curse?” A terrible doubt began to worm its way into Simon’s mind. “One that was cast right before he could father a princess?” 

Remedia nodded, her cheeks red. “It is a Tier IX curse as far as I can tell, one step short of the greatest heights of magic. It turned my husband both impotent and sterile.” She avoided his gaze. “We kept it a state secret since I was hopeful I would eventually find a way to break it, but… the years passed, and our mutual frustrations mounted.”

By the Light, the timing… “Who… who cast this curse?” 

“I thought it was your father’s doing at one point, but… if Balzam Magnos wanted to destabilize Cocagne, why not curse me instead to ensure I could produce no heir? What would be the point of cursing my husband besides humiliating him, or encouraging me to cheat on him?” Remedia shook her head. “It would be absurdly petty, even for the Overlord.”

And that was her mistake.

Balzam Magnos, Third Overlord, had indeed been petty enough to cast a Tier IX spell just to emasculate a romantic rival.

Filip and Remedia must have conceived a princess that night eleven years back in a previous reign, which Simon’s father took as a personal slight given his obsession with the queen. He had thus emasculated Filip, both to humiliate him and hopefully sneak his way into Remedia’s bed. 

That bastard… Now Simon felt horribly ashamed, though the fact that Filip tried to murder him and that bedding Remedia had been one of the best experiences in his life eased his guilt a little. He had planned this, the bastard… he would be in my place right now if Louis hadn’t gotten to him.

A rush of experience coursed through Simon’s veins as if to confirm his theory; his reward for fulfilling a cruel Overlord prank decades-long in the making. 

Level 52 Overlord Perk: Darkbound II (Passive): You have become more in tune with your demonic nature. You can answer a summoning attempt using your true name like any demon, such as through a diabolism ritual, though you are under no compulsion to accept the summon. 

That… that Perk looked both situationally useful and potentially dangerous. If he could be summoned like a fiend, then he could have his followers across the continent teleport him from one place to another with sufficient setup. However, the fact nothing in the Perk indicated he could tell who could call on him meant he would have to be wary when answering those calls. The Devil Brands might offset that, but he would have to check.

Either way, the rush of a new level failed to alleviate Simon’s disgust. It felt like Balzam was giving him a thumbs up from beyond the grave.

Worse, this all but confirmed that Remedia and Filip would have become a happy couple without the curse. Simon ended up benefitting from his cruelty and the misery of others.

“My father did curse you,” Simon admitted rather shamefully. “I think he knew… he knew the two of you would have been happy, and he wanted you for himself.”

Remedia gripped the blanket, a flash of hatred passing over her face. “The world will be a better place with Balzam Magnos dead,” she said with a sigh. “But the damage is done, and if your father’s death didn’t lift the curse, nothing will.”

Simon scowled as he put two and two together. “You helped with my training because you thought I could help you lift that curse.”

“Yes,” Remedia admitted. “To be entirely honest with you, I have given up on it. You aren’t strong enough yet to break the curse, and Filip and I have drifted apart too far. Even if I held it back for so many years…” She sighed. “I have to consider alternative solutions.”

Simon nodded in understanding. She wasn’t wrong, the Queendom needed an heir, and Filip’s inability to sire one put its line of succession in danger. 

“You should divorce Filip,” Simon advised her. He knew it wasn’t right to say right after sleeping with the man’s wife, but it was the truth. “Norbelle is already planning to usurp your bloodline and put a Magnos on the throne of Cocagne.”

“Is she?” Remedia asked with a scowl. She didn’t sound all that surprised. 

“She will kill Verdis as soon as he sires a daughter,” Simon replied bluntly. “You don’t know my half-sister like I do. Half the reason she pushed me into your bed was to break off the engagement in a way that wouldn’t endanger Cocagne’s assimilation. She cannot stand him.”

Remedia’s frown deepened as she considered the matter, her hands clenching the bedsheet. 

“I cannot divorce Filip yet,” she said, which suggested she now fully intended to go through with it in time. “Not until I can sideline the Militarists, not while we must stay united against the threat outside and inside our borders. Now is not the right time.”

“What about Norbelle and Verdis?” Simon inquired. “He will be safe until the marriage, but afterwards…”

“We will pretend nothing is wrong until we can deal with the War Party,” Remedia decided. “The marriage won’t be celebrated until then either way, and new options will open up afterwards.”

“Then…” Simon took a deep breath and addressed the dragon in the room. “What about us?”

Remedia held his gaze. “Frankly, the wisest thing we could do is keep this shameful secret to ourselves and never do it again.”

“You’re right, that would be most wise,” Simon conceded. It would also be the right thing to do after learning what his father had done to Filip. Profiting from it felt like he was playing into Balzam’s hands.

However… there was an issue with that.

“But that’s not what I want,” Simon admitted.

In spite of everything, he wanted Remedia. He liked her, he desired her, and he appreciated her. He had been willing to fight for her and still was.

Remedia held his gaze for a very, very long time. She looked torn between what she knew was proper and what she wanted, but in the end, her choice was obvious.

“No,” she admitted, her hand taking his own, “That’s not what I want either.”

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Next Chapter

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A/N: a bit ambivalent on this chapter, since wrote it between planes and while jet-lagged to death and it was reworked a lot, but... well you tell me. Going back home next week after trip so update hours will return to normal then.