Chapter 80 - Proposal (Patreon)

“Hi,” he replied, attempting a nonchalant tone while catching the critical gazes of several servants bustling nearby. “No wonder you’re first in the year. Being forced to clean your ‘home’ as punishment for bad grades would be a whole new level of child abuse.”

For a moment Reyna looked confused, then snorted with laughter.

“Is that how things are done in the eastern parts of the kingdom? Don’t tell my father. The harshest punishment he’s ever given me is cutting my allowance. Cleaning the entire estate? That would be... cruel.” She took his arm. “Come on, I’ll show you the gardens. You’re the first to arrive.”

“I thought we were supposed to arrive at noon,” he said, puzzled. Had he mixed something up?

“The others... were given a different time,” she admitted, a mischievous sparkle appearing in her eyes. “I wanted to talk with you privately for a while,” she added more seriously.

“Is that why this lovely group is following us?” he asked, pointing at the three people trailing behind them with completely expressionless faces.

“Oh, don’t pay any attention to them. That’s my governess, my butler, and my bodyguard,” she dismissed, as though it were the most normal thing in the world.

They entered the garden, winding their way between waist high hedges trimmed into perfectly straight walls. Red and white roses filled entire sections beside the paths, mixed with unfamiliar blue and violet flowers. Small trees stood in even rows, each shaped almost identically to the next, while marble statues and carved stone benches occupied the shaded corners. The gravel paths were spotless, the flower beds freshly turned, and Arien could not see a single weed anywhere.

Personally, he preferred wilder landscapes, but he could not deny the beauty of the place.

Only after they had walked deeper into the garden did he notice that every plant around them radiated mana. Life and Nature mana saturated the entire estate.

Of course it does.

For the next several minutes, Reyna asked him about his journey, how his vacation had been going, and other similarly unimportant topics. He knew her well enough by now to recognize that she was trying to relax him before bringing up something more serious.

What is she coming up with this time?

Eventually they reached a small pond behind the manor, where swans and ducks drifted across the water beneath weeping willows.

They sat on one of the benches and enjoyed the quiet for a moment. Just the two of them and nature.

Well, and the two men dressed in black and the governess standing ten meters away.

“Arien, have you thought about what you’ll do after the Academy?” Reyna finally asked.

“Of course I’ve thought about it, but there’s still plenty of time before I have to make a final decision. Right now, I’d rather focus on my studies,” he replied.

“You know, you’re not nearly as difficult to read as you think,” she said with a faint smile. “You know exactly what I mean.”

“If you mean joining one of the Factions, then no, I haven’t made up my mind. I’ve already received several offers, but I don’t want to commit myself that early.”

“But what’s wrong with that?” she asked. “You know that from the fifth year onward, without artifacts, elixirs, and private lessons from the best instructors in Wayhold, your progress could stagnate. You could even fail.” She paused. “That’s why most people in your position sign on before their fifth year.”

“In my position?” he replied dryly.

“Yes,” she said, looking him directly in the eyes. “You have talent, but talent alone isn’t enough. The knowledge and resources my House could offer you are invaluable.”

“Your House or you?” he asked, returning her gaze.

“My House,” she answered after a brief pause, looking away. “I don’t yet have enough standing to offer patronage myself. But does it really make a difference?”

“To me, yes.” He leaned back slightly. “If I were signing a contract with you, I might actually consider it. I trust you enough to believe I wouldn’t regret it and that you’d honor your obligations. But your House is another matter entirely. We’re talking about at least twenty years of my life.”

“I could arrange truly favorable terms for you,” she said confidently. “Far better than what most students receive. I could even shorten the length of service. You’d answer only to me.”

“Really?” he asked skeptically. “No member of your House could ever give me an order?”

Reyna hesitated, then shook her head.

“Exactly.” Arien smiled faintly. “Thanks for the offer, Rey. I genuinely appreciate it. But I’m not looking for patronage right now.”

“I understand…” She sounded disappointed. “But are you sure? What I said about the Academy is true. You’ll see that most of our group will have far less time for social gatherings because everyone will be focused on their own advancement. The King’s Faction may not be known for providing money or artifacts, but they have excellent specialists. What about them?”

“I considered it,” he admitted, “but I doubt it. Their contracts are twenty-five years long.” He shook his head. “Thanks for trying to help, but I’ll manage.”

His tone was firmer than he felt.

Starting in the fifth year, most classes focused almost entirely on magic, and the Masters supposedly had little patience for students who couldn’t keep up. Everyone who could afford it hired private experts capable of correcting mistakes in real time and offering specialized guidance.

Arien could only hope that his large mana reserves and second specialization in Mana Manipulation would be enough to carry him through the coming semesters.

He had spent countless hours researching the opportunities offered by the various Factions, but every one of them ultimately demanded the same thing: a magically binding contract.

The exact terms varied, but once signed, such agreements were extremely difficult to break. A complaint could be filed with the Council of Magic if one party failed to fulfill its obligations, but favorable rulings were rare.

The Factions, being the stronger party, imposed predetermined conditions that could not be circumvented, demanding almost complete submission in exchange for access to resources and knowledge.

For example, a Faction might require Arien to participate in ten missions per year, while he, in return, would receive assistance with his studies. 

The problem was that they were the ones who defined what constituted that assistance. It could be a spell manual, a book, one consultation per week with a professional mage, or even some generic training regimen, and all of it would technically count as support for his development.

Before arriving in the capital, Arien had been terrified of the Great Factions. He had imagined them watching his every move, waiting for a moment of weakness to clap shackles around his wrists and exploit him for years afterward. Only at the Academy had he realized how wrong that picture was. People sought the Factions out willingly, desperate for the resources and training they offered, which left the Factions free to dictate the terms.

Most people saw nothing unusual in trading years of service for a chance to keep advancing. Arien saw it differently. In comparison to his job back on earth, he had disliked plenty of things about it, but at least he had always been free to walk away.

A Faction contract could bind him for fifteen or twenty years with almost no possibility of renegotiation. However favorable the offer looked, he could not get past the idea of willingly locking those shackles around his own wrists.

“As you wish, Arien. Just know that my offer will always remain on the table,” Reyna said. “If I could ask of you just one thing, don't sign a contract with Prince Leonard. I wouldn't want to be forced to fight you someday.”

“Prince Leonard? I thought the Old Houses didn't compete with the King's Faction.”

Reyna snorted and shook her head.

“Before we graduate, I'm going to have to give you a proper lesson on the politics of the Kingdom. Otherwise, the moment you leave the Academy, they'll eat you alive within a week.”

“Then why don't you tell me now? Every time I ask you or Pori about anything related to the Factions, you just shake your heads and sigh loudly while lamenting my stupidity.” Arien frowned. “Maybe take into account that I've spent most of my life outside Wayhold, where people talked about whether it would stay dry before the harvest, not about some mythical Factions that had no effect on their lives.”

He hadn't meant for the irritation to show quite so clearly. Reyna's bodyguard was already watching him more closely.

Reyna remained silent for a moment, looking entirely unfazed by his outburst.

“You're right. I'm sorry,” she admitted at last.

Did Reyna just apologize to me for something? Maybe I should shout more often.

“It's just... I don't know. Politics, my obligations to my House, magic... that's my entire life. Everyone I know understands how these things work, so when you don't know something, I sometimes genuinely struggle to understand how you can't know it. I don't even know where I'd begin explaining. It would be like you trying to explain how magic works to an ordinary person.”

“Then at least give me the broad picture,” he suggested. “I know who the largest Factions are, but every time I think I've figured out what they want, something happens that proves my theories wrong. Unless it's some great secret. In that case, I'll understand if you can't tell me anything.”

Reyna remained silent for a long moment. Her eyes were latched upon the swans drifting across the water. Eventually, she gave a small nod.

“It's not some great secret. Pori and Sebastian both know at least the broad outline of the conflicts. But you're wrong when you say those ‘mythical Factions’ have no effect on the lives of ordinary peasants. They might have no idea it's happening, but decisions are made here in Wayhold that later determine whether some of them live or die.” She looked back at him. “First, tell me what you understand by the word ‘Faction.’”

“Rey...”

“It's important.”

Arien sighed. “Powerful, influential groups whose members are allied with one another and want to defeat the other Factions. Like the Old Houses Faction trying to limit the influence of the Three Guilds Faction.”

“I think that's exactly where your problem lies. There are no alliances. There are only shared interests.”

“Semantics.”

“Oh, so I shouldn’t worry about another Old House having me killed while I’m outside Wayhold, because that’s just semantics?”

Arien stared at her in surprise. She didn't look like she was joking.

“What?”

“Exactly what I said. As Old Houses, we share many interests, but that doesn't stop us from competing with one another. I'm not saying something like that would definitely happen, or that another Old House would necessarily be responsible. Having me killed would give House Voltorey grounds to declare war without any of the usual restraints.”

Reyna paused and glanced toward the residence.

“Assuming, of course, they managed to discover who was behind it.”

“I had no idea...”

“Oh, Arien, I don't need your sympathy. Like I said, this is normal to me. Besides, incidents like that have become rare since two Old Houses destroyed each other in a war almost two hundred years ago. My point is that there are no permanent alliances.”

She thought for a moment.

“Maybe look at it this way. Imagine two farmers competing in the same market. One of them starts struggling. Wouldn't the one doing better take advantage of the situation and buy his land for next to nothing?”

“When you put it that way... But you still talk about Factions yourselves, so there has to be some reason for that.”

“There is. A large part of our interests overlap, and most disputes are settled through the laws of the Kingdom rather than assassination.”

“Then what about Prince Leonard? Why wouldn't you want me to sign a contract with him?”

“Because he's the leader of the Development Faction?”

“Uh... The King's son leads a different Faction?”

Reyna gave him a critical look but, for once, refrained from commenting. “The King's third child. Eighth in line to the throne. That's a long way from inheriting it.”

“Okay. Let's say I understand. So the Development Faction is your rival?”

“Broadly speaking, yes, although we agree with them that the privileges of the Three Guilds should be curtailed.”

“And the Three Guilds? Do they want to curtail your privileges?”

“Not necessarily. They're perfectly happy with the status quo. They and the Temples have interests in practically every country on the continent, so what they care about most is keeping things from changing.”

“And the King?”

“The King's faction is the most powerful on paper, but it also has the most responsibilities, so its resources are constantly being pulled in different directions. Usually, the King tries to turn the other Factions against whichever one happens to be strongest at the time.”

“And the Landowners' Faction? I've heard they're the most opposed to the Development Faction.”

Reyna smiled. “That's true. Leonard likes winning favor with the masses, so their interests are usually the first ones he targets, pushing through laws that limit their privileges. But they hate us and the Trade Guilds almost as much.”

Arien had to make a real effort to arrange all those relationships in his head. “So the Trade Guilds oppose both the Landowners and Leonard?”

“Yes. They mostly ignore us because we don't involve ourselves as heavily in trade and manufacturing. House Montferrat is an exception, but that's only been true for the last few decades.” Reyna paused. “Leonard causes them the most trouble with his ideas and his increasingly ridiculous policies on Portal access. The Trade Guilds are already threatening to move their manufactories to the Republic if he keeps this up, although hardly anyone believes them. They'd face much greater competition there, not to mention higher labor costs.”

She was clearly getting into the subject now.

“If the Mages' Guild hadn't recently pressured the King into stopping his son from making further changes, it could have become a serious flashpoint. And with war between the New and Old Empires supposedly inevitable—”

“Rey, that's enough for now,” Arien interrupted, afraid she was about to tangle the web of relationships he'd only just managed to build in his head. He had learned several interesting things, but he still had no idea how he was supposed to navigate any of it.

“Maybe show me the gardens instead and tell me how much it would cost to have flowers like these in my own house someday. The ones that strengthen Aspects this much.”

Reyna stared at him. “You ask me to explain the Factions, interrupt me the moment I actually start explaining them, and now you want to talk about flowers?”

“Yes.”

She sighed. “You’re hopeless.”

“Probably.”

“Fine. Come on.”

The conversation gradually drifted back toward safer subjects as they continued through the gardens. Before long, they were exchanging the latest Academy gossip, until Reyna suddenly turned toward a lone man strolling along one of the paths.

He was dressed in tight pink tights, a honey-colored doublet covered in pompoms, and a pointed red cap with a bell at the tip. With his round pale face and dark circles beneath his eyes, he looked like a jester from Earth.

“Father,” Reyna said.

Arien nearly stopped walking.

That was Serig Voltorey? The head of House Voltorey?

“Father, this is Arien Terryson. I told you about him, remember?”

“My lord,” Arien said, dropping to one knee and placing a fist over his heart. How humiliating.

Every time he left the Academy and had to treat people who were supposedly “better” than him as if they were something extraordinary, his determination to grow stronger and climb higher intensified.

“Oh yes, Arien, your classmate,” the man replied cheerfully. “Stand up, my boy. I’ve heard a great deal about you. Sometimes I wonder whether you’ve stolen my daughter’s heart. Do I have something to worry about?”

“Father!” Reyna snapped, turning bright red. “Don’t listen to him, Arien. He’s teasing you.”

“Well, what else am I supposed to think?” Serig asked innocently. “You come home so rarely on weekends, and when you finally do, you invite friends to visit instead of spending time with your poor old father.”

“We’re leaving, Arien.”

Reyna grabbed his arm and began steering him toward the entrance. Arien still managed to offer Serig another bow, wondering how the man in pink tights could possibly be one of the most powerful people in the kingdom.

“I hate it when he does that,” Reyna muttered under her breath.

“He seemed nice...” Arien said uncertainly.

Reyna gave him a strange look.

“You actually bought that?” she asked. “Sometimes you can be so naive.” She shook her head. “Never mind. Let’s go greet Matt. He should be arriving any moment now.”