Published at 20th of March 2026 10:12 pm

Chapter 140: Rumours

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History class has unfortunately become rather tedious. Ive always liked history. Its nice to find patterns, especially if the history is recent enough to be relevant to potential actions. But this particular teacher has a tendency of turning every historical event into a justification for Arkothian dominance.

Really, its enough to make me doubt the whole field of study. Maybe everyone is twisting the narrative in the same way, but are just less obvious about it. If so, then whats even the point of it? Can true lessons be learned when the information its derived from is so fundamentally twisted?

But no, I shouldnt derive such a sweeping epistemic theory from just one bad teacher. I just need to be more cautious when studying texts I might have previously thought to be neutral description of facts. But if I do find evidence of such twisting elsewhere? Well, it might be reasonable to despise history.

When I get back to my room, there are letters from Cecellia and Viscount Monroe, the latter being a response to a missive I sent earlier in the week. Feeling trepidation over what the Princep might want, I open the Viscounts first.

The first line is Stop controlling it. Which baffles me for several minutes until I realize shes talking about the hint she gave about breathing. Ive been trying to figure out her clue, but Ive been going at it the wrong way. Ive been altering my breathing by making it faster or slower, but thats just trying to seem less in control of my body by controlling it even more. It doesnt work. Her hint about breathing was to show me that even when Im not conscious of my control, the enhancement is still there, working subtly. The first step in hiding my enhancement then is to let go and let myself be as if I had no enhancement.

I dont think I can do it. I spend a half hour sitting, trying to relax, but every time I think Im getting close, I become aware of my breathing again, and my control tightens. Sigh. I dont know. Maybe itll help if I keep practising it.

Anyways, the rest of her letter is an invitation to an event on the weekend where shell have me gamble against players she says should be my lessers in skill. Nothing too exciting. Large silver ante, and she recommends I limit my winnings to a large gold. Still, it should be good practice, so I write a reply accepting.

Still in the state of attempted calm, I reach over and grab the Princeps letter and take a deep breath before opening it then laugh. Given the ominousness of her tone as she left, I was expecting some arduous task. Marshal my tower against her rival in the low section (which I assumed she somehow knew about). Maybe an assassination. Roughing someone up at the very least.

But no, all she asks me to do is to attend the very party Viscount Monroe has already invited me to. She doesnt even ask me to do anything once there. I just have to go. I was seriously doubting my decision to stay with Theodore as possibly an act of madness, but if the rest of the cost is going to be like this

Of course, its almost certainly meant as a test, as she doesnt provide an invitation (and she doesnt know Ive already incidentally received one from Monroe), so shes probably trying to see what sort of social connections I have by whether or not I can even get in. Once I prove myself here, shell doubtless assign me the real tasks.

Which leaves me in a quandary over how to respond to her. If I go with my initial instinct of immediately sending a cocky letter about assuredly attending, she might think I got in too easily and increase the difficulty of my future tasks accordingly. But if I make getting in seem too difficult, then she might decide Ive failed the minimum standard, even if I succeed at the stated goal.

In the end, I decide to play medium coy. After all, it is just happenstance that I already have an invite. So, I send a reply saying, I shall endeavour to attend as you command, your highness.

A few hours after I send the replies, another letter from her highness arrives saying, Im pleased by your earnestness. Though do please let me know by Ulnday if you have difficulty finding an invitation. Im certain itll be difficult for you to acquire one.

Is she trying to insult me? Saying that she assumes I lack the social connections? Im rather uncertain on how to reply. Though, with a mischievous impulse, I realize I dont technically have to. The letter instructs me to contact her if I need help. It doesnt say anything about if I dont. Itll be amusing to leave her wondering if Ill succeed in her little test until I actually show up.

I meet with Allan for lunch the next day at a pleasant little place by a canal, of the sort Ive found that Allan tends to like. A nice balance between bustle and isolation that, when combined with the music, creates a relaxing atmosphere. The style is of one of the empires southern island client kingdoms, and has architecture and decor to match: A mostly open floor with a roof held up by graven columns depicting some story about some gods seeking good food with tasteful grapevines wrapping around them. Or at least thats what I can gather from the images that are admittedly crudely carved. Either way, its a rather pleasant place to meet on such a sunny day, and the food (a plate of well seasoned lamb skewers with asparagus and garlicky mashed potatoes) is excellent.

We talk about various things, but move on to more pressing issues once dessert (a custard tart topped with cherries) is brought out. He takes out the silencer, but its hard to calibrate it in such an open area, so we cant fully trust that itll block everything. I really should finish the spell that has the same effect, but Ive been focusing on other ones.

I havent heard much about your lets say quarry, he says, eyes flickering to the side in conscious awareness of his items flaw. All I can say for certain is that the killing happened last Ulnday around noon, that it was in the section your tower is in and that the victim was an old cobbler.

A cobbler? I ask, wondering if they might have had some less common sacrificial synergy.

Yeah. Seemed like he lived alone and didnt have too many customers. Whoever did it probably thought they could get close by ordering some shoes, but was interrupted before they could get rid of the body by some actual customers coming in, so ran before they could deal with the corpse.

Why didnt they just sacrifice the witnesses too?

He shrugs. Im not certain, but a few rumours say that it wasnt actually customers but thugs from a local gang collecting protection money.

I raise an eyebrow at that. Then how did the guards hear about it? Wouldnt the gang try to deal with it themselves?

He nods his head to the side. I think maybe they tried, but an Anar sacrifice is hard to keep quiet, so maybe rumours spread. Either that or they decided that it was too big to handle themselves, and theyd lose less reputation by going to the guards immediately than trying and failing to handle it.

I nod. Makes sense. What about the efforts to find them? If they were scared off by a few thugs, then they clearly cant be that skilled.

Yeah. Well, I dont know exactly, but a few people mentioned that the reason why they failed to get rid of the body was because they took too much time mutilating it. Which is something they mentioned as if it explained the difficulty the guards were having finding them, but couldnt explain how when pressed.

Anthropomancy, I say, then shrug as I realize that, divination not being his strong suit, he doesnt know what that is. Its a potent divination method. I figured theyd have it, but it shouldnt explain the difficulty on its own unless they had some illusion magic working in tandem. Powerful illusion magic that would indicate a skill level that could handle the thugs.

Maybe tey erred on the side of caution? After all, there are a few gangs with self enhanced members.

Yeah, but theyre normally kept in reserve in case of war. Not something they would waste on routine tribute collection. Which is something the killer should know unless Unless theyre not local. But would someone who hasnt been in the section long enough to know how the gangs operate know that the cobbler didnt have many customers who would interrupt a lengthy anthropomancy ritual?

Perhaps? Allan shrugs. But I have one more piece of rumour. A word of warning though, this is by far the least reliable piece of gossip Ive found, which is why Ive left it for last. But supposedly the imperial diviners have been informed of five missing people whom they have connected to the killer. Which, they cant be certain that theyve been killed, but theyre assuming so until evidence otherwise.

I narrow my eyes at the news. That suggests a reliable method of disposal, which itself suggests that they should have been powerful enough to handle the thugs. Either that or a connection with a local group that would dispose of the corpses for them. But again, that would suggest a knowledge of how the local groups operate. Too many things arent making sense.

He shrugs apologetically. I did say it wasnt the most reliable rumour. But suppose its true. Isnt it a good thing that things arent making sense?

How so? I ask, eyes scrunched.

Well, if everything made sense, then the circumstances that could give rise to the facts would be broader. The more information that doesnt make sense at first glance, the more the right answer is narrowed down once you figure it out.

I shrug. I suppose that makes a certain amount of sense. Though it does leave me with little to do until I do figure it out.

Which is, again, good for you. It means that your rivals cant do much until they figure it out either, and they have far greater resources to act with when they can.

I find myself relaxing as I nod along to his reasoning. Reassured that things might not be as bad for me as I first assumed. Yeah, I suppose that does make things a bit less frustrating. Thanks.

Of course. Now, is there any other pressing issue that I can help with? he says with a slight ironic smile, at once reassuring that he can help if there is, while not quite believing that more could develop in my life in such a short span of time.

Um, yeah, just a little one, really. I ignore the smirk as I explain the developments with the various Princeps in my life in some detail. And then sent me a letter telling me to get into a party. Which is weird, because I thought she was going to have me do something hard from her tone. Though I suppose its probably just a test and shell give me harder tasks once I prove I can do it.

Or maybe not, he shrugs with a light expression on his face, not quite amused but an emotion between it and indifference. Princep Cecellia is a schemer, and like all schemers, especially royal ones, she likely has a tendency of overestimating her ability to influence events. She likely thinks that moving you to that party will set off a complex series of subtle events which will result in her favour. Which, likely things will go well for her since she is an imperial Princep and people tend to try to please her which she will then assume that it went well because of her scheme when really, its just happenstance. After all, her ability to perceive whether her scheme is playing out how she thinks it will is much more limited than she likely thinks.

Thats an almost treasonous line of thinking, isnt it? I ask, my mouth slightly agape as I resist the urge to look around for evidence of someone somehow hearing us through the incomplete silencing effect.

He shrugs with a playful grin plastered on his face. Well, good thing I can trust you not to tell on me, now isnt it?

I stare at him, dumbfounded for several seconds, then laugh loudly and protractedly all of the built up tension suddenly vanishing without a care that the motion no doubt is attracting attention. Allan smirks at first, then joins in a moment later, though with not quite as much vitality.

Yeah, I say, wiping my eyes and catching my breath. A good thing we can trust each other.

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