Master Mages Marriage - 47 Trus

Nikolai felt awkward lecturing Elya. His ability to be strict was limited, tending to lapse into humour or suggestions rather than outright scolding and Elya shattered what little authority he struggled to create. It was difficult to show any form of authority when her glistening lips and shining eyes distracted him. Her cheeks puffed up when he started his tirade earlier, making her appear on the verge of tears and Nikolai almost stopped to apologise, only realising how absurd his thoughts were at the last moment.

Why would someone capable of going toe to toe with monstrous beasts and surviving rigorous training to become a Knight become upset at a little lecture? Yet in the face of her soft pout, Nikolai trailed off, rattling off the standard precautions he gave his assistants to avoid magical accidents.

Elya’s proximity, perched on the edge of the desk beside him as she was, was distracting.

Her black hair was fetching, giving her a darker, more elegant cast. It also made her seem far more dangerous, like the Pirate Queen of Ansibar from one of his favourite tales: ‘Blood Moon’, a swashbuckling rogue known as much for her bloodthirstiness as she was for her promiscuity. Her disguise seemed to be pulled right from the book. With tight fitting leather pants and a shirt that barely reached her belly button displaying her every curve, Nikolai didn’t know where to look. Seven had understated her… volume… and he couldn’t help but blush every time he remembered the Hand’s parting signs. There was no way he could tell Elya that Seven provided estimates on her size before leaving.

To distract himself, Nikolai launched into a long recollection detailing Petrov’s efforts. The Commander was working night and day, quietly arresting members of the guard showing any suspicious activities and sending them to his Mage Tower where Natalia sifted through their testimony, finding even more corrupt guardsmen to bring in. For such an insular town, the dozen or so incarcerated guardsmen were far more than he expected. Concerned, he made a trip to the prison and cast a few scrying spells on them.

“The results were concerning. To say the least.” He explained, scratching at crimson, bleary eyes. Sleep was impossible when problems piled up one after the other. “Almost all of them have minor compulsions binding their minds.”

“Like they’re being forced to betray us?” Elya leaned forward, seemingly fascinated by the topic. While she avoided most of his technical explanations of magic, she’d shown a significant interest in the basic mechanics and abilities of a Mage. Whether it was an act to show interest in his work or a means to learn more about the things she may face after marriage, he wasn’t sure, but Nikolai had always been an academic first and Mage second. The Thunder Lancers for example, could have been formed years before he joined the army, but they lacked Mages well versed in theory and with a teachers aptitude to truly impart the knowledge which was the cornerstone of their abilities.

“No, a compulsion doesn’t work like that. Even the greatest Demons can’t completely supplant someone’s thoughts. What magic can do though, is amplify emotions or desires you already have.”

“So they would have been bribed, anyway?”

“Possibly. It’s hard to tell. People are far too complicated to be explained in just a few words. Of those compelled, maybe one or two could have taken the same actions without any extra incentive. But it’s possible the people behind this only had to increase their compensation and the same guards would be locked up, anyway.” Nikolai sighed, shuffling papers around on his desk aimlessly. “It does however make them prone to agreeing to short-term rewards, or ignore potential consequences.”

“That sounds worse than actually being controlled.” Elya shivered drawing her short vest closed. As much as possible anyway. None of her clothes left much to the imagination.

Nikolai nodded in agreement. When it came to compulsions, he had far too much experience, dealing with his nature as a True Imperial. It was terrible to know what you were capable of when your conscience was suppressed and limitations removed.

“There’s little I can do either. The compulsion seems old in every case. The most recent one was cast about a year ago.”

“You can’t get rid of the magic?”

“The spell can be dissipated easily, but the mind is… complex. Since the compulsion only affects them in minor ways even without it, they would follow the same patterns. Most of the information on this subject is heavily guarded and my knowledge comes from the Imperial Library so I may be wrong, but as far as I can tell, small shifts in a persons behaviour can become permanent fixtures as they become used to it.” Nikolai clenched his fist tightly, frustrated at the loss of so many guards. Even if he could get them back on track, they would have to be watched or kept in simple positions where their actions couldn’t cause damage. That would limit their chances for promotions and recognitions, which meant they would be prone to the same coercion again. A fruitless situation. Either way, he’d lost guardsmen without a fight.

“Nikolai, you have to give me more time. Now you know the Black Hand isn’t behind this.” She waved the agents note past his face for emphasis, making him twitch at the breeze which tickled his nose.

“I can’t take the chance.” He raised a hand to forestall her interruption. “You may be right, but the Black Hand is well known for selling its services to the highest bidder. Who’s to say they aren’t dealing with the Vilinians?” He sprung from his chair suddenly, startling Elya and began to pace awkwardly in the confined space behind his desk.

“My sources are clear. The Black Hand’s involvement in the gangs does not involve Stardust.” Elya said.

“What sources?”

“It would be better if they remain anonymous.” She whispered, averting her eyes.

“Anonymous.” Nikolai snorted. “I barely trust the Ministry of the Interior’s agents. Why should I trust these… ‘sources’?”

“I’m not asking you to trust them. I’m saying trust me.”

He spun in place, staring at Elya’s stern visage. Chen had described her as ‘striking in her own way’. But to Nikolai her eyes sparkled with depth and wit. Her hair was a silken cascade of liquid silver and her every gesture pulled at something deep within him. She’d proven her ability and if he couldn’t trust his future wife who else was there?

“I… trust you.” He admitted. “But I can’t let that blind me to what’s best for the town.”

“But-”

“No buts Elya.” He interrupted, regretting the words as her eyes widened in shock and what he feared was sadness. “If hundreds die tomorrow because of a choice I made knowing there was a risk… It’s not something I want on my conscience.”

She hung her head and Nikolai rolled his tongue to deal with the sudden dryness in his mouth. He strode towards Elya and gently grasped her wrist.

“Please try to understand. You’re a Knight-Captain and the daughter of a Grand Duke. Would you do anything differently if you were in my position?” his voice was barely a whisper, letting out the fears which he shared with no one else.

“I’d do the same.” Elya whispered back.

She looked up and Nikolai thought he heard her mutter an apology under her breath, to his mother of all people. He heaved a sigh of relief. Suddenly exhausted by the released tension he unconsciously dropped his head to rest on her shoulder, breathing deeply. Nikolai could feel her tense under his weight for a moment before patting the back of his head and relaxing. She carried the scent of perfumed soaps and the sea. An odd combination but one that made him grin.

Elya lived on the front line, unwilling to cower in a palace.

He raised his head and almost jerked back at how close they were. Nikolai swallowed the lump in his throat, staring at his fiancee’s fierce eyes and feeling her soft hand gripped tightly in his. He’d never paid attention to her eyes this closely, glimpsing shimmering, almost golden flecks in her iris. A stray lock of her hair curled around her eye, drifting aimlessly in the breeze coming from his open windows. The sound of hawkers filled his ears and his mind drifted to the last time they’d been in a position like this.

Marriage was a part of life for the Nobility, arranged by the whims of House Elders for the sake of alliances and solidifying their standing in Court. It was a wonder he had Elya. A woman not only capable in her own right but someone who seemed to be genuinely interested in him. His heart swelled with emotion and all he wanted in that moment was to make sure she’d always be by his side.

“I like you.” Nikolai blurted out suddenly. Horror dawned on his face at the sudden outburst. He hadn’t meant to say that. At least not now.

Elya giggled at his expression, a hand rising to cover her mouth as she laughed. It was a such a shame she chose to hide her smile, but Nikolai knew she preferred to conceal the scar which became prominent at these moments. Especially when someone was staring at her.

“I like you too.” She breathed and shifted on the desk, moving even closer to him, hand falling away and a smirk tugging at her lips, cheeks flushed and eyes sparkling in delight. Elya looked like a heavenly temptress to him, exuding power and femininity with every breath.

Nikolai grinned foolishly, about to lean in when the door swung open and Natalia’s shrivelled form rolled in, a triumphant grin plastered across her face and a wineskin swinging from her armrest. Startled, Elya jumped from the desk and he reached out helplessly as his blushing fiancée scurried to her own seat. His body raged with heat, whether embarrassment or something else, he didn’t know.

“What in the Fates name did I do to deserve this?” Nikolai groaned. The old woman had to be doing this on purpose.

Telling them to make progress in their relationship yet blocking it every step of the way.

It wasn’t funny.