135 Chapter 121:Upper Society (2)

Eli POV

It was a few more minutes of idling before the messenger boy came from the curtain to the left. His approach to the raised platform slowly killed the stream of chatter from the rest of the room.

"Please remain seated. It is my esteemed honor to introduce King Jeremy, Queen Nestel, and Princess Palta."

The same spot in the curtains was pulled back to reveal Jeremy. He now sported a purple coat and pants with gold edges, only now the gold was weaved into sharp ninety-degree turns leaving edges all up and down that all eventually traced into a full gold ring around his feet. His favored wife had his right arm. 

Nestel sported the same dress and doll-like stature. Her dress and feet seemed to almost glide across the tiled floor as they came up the stone platform. Palta followed close behind, dressed as she had been at our meeting. The lack of their fourth component went unremarked. 

They made their way up the stairs without a hitch, with Jeremy pulling the center seat back for Nestel and scooting her in before doing the same for his daughter on the left. When he took the last seat, he nodded to a maid on the right.

She returned the gesture before turning back to the purple curtains. Out of the purple drapes came a small army of platter-wielding servers and jugs lofted by maids, each in the black and white attire of their station though the sleeves were all near their shoulders. They moved between the tables and chairs like commandos storming the enemy position. 

Plates of sliced meats, rolls, and vegetable dishes were offered to the guests who accepted. The wave of charred meats and freshly baked bread surged through my nose with their approach. The next wave of selections were fish and water-bound bugs of every steamed or grilled variety, giving a faint whiff of heavy salts and spice. I took a bit of everything. I had earned this entire meal a thousand times over this past week alone and I was going to take every molecule of gratitude that could be sucked out of a lobster's tail or steak's sear. 

No such fuss was needed for the incomplete royal family, whose meals had already been preordained. Wines and juices were quickly dispensed into tankards, which everyone had started washing down with a few bites of the meal. After a minute or so, Jeremy put down his mug of ale and stood, bringing any munching or clanking of silverware to a stop. His green eyes surveyed the room, not stopping even as his mouth finally opened. 

"My father once said that toughness isn't something given in the womb, it is given through sore back, tired arms, and worn hands. A man as great as you've all heard, I assure you. I've seen his wisdom exemplified by one individual-"

He did a grand sweep of his arm to me. 

"Tilvor Laperict. A man from the wilds and as tough as any mage could ever be. He has displayed great strength in his magic but also his spine and grit. It was through his efforts and determination that so much was saved from the menace on the seas. The only reward that I and my beloved Nestel could think to grant for such service, and aiding our daughter, was the official recognition of his independent domain. The grand stone tapestry beyond Crasden will no doubt blossom under his guidance into a sister city for this region and its people."

A round of applause went up, with Palta joining in while her parents maintained a stoic stance. 

"Part of that great future will be the establishment of a worthy partner in government. After much consideration and the endorsement of several of our great kingdom's mage associations, I am pleased to announce that the handling of the local governorship will be handed to Lady Ashe Kraton though her arrival tomorrow will be her first official day in the chair." 

He may have sat down with that last word, but the local chatter rose far above what it was before. It was an interesting tale I had pieced together from the overseer on one of our working lunches. Her rather lacking uncle had used Orcs to make some mages that would do all the work or supply them with additional magical talent, it was a rather high-level investigation with only some bits getting leaked to the public. He was a rather close relation in my opinion despite Ashe's description of a distant relative at our minute of dinner. A perpetrator of the most revolting act mankind had ever known and a few pleasant nights for me. Kraton getting back the reigns to the very city that sickening crime took place in was… a political miracle.

The temporary governor after the Kraton house was relieved of his station for making such a huge mess that the whole region rebelled. I was certain that still wasn't as bad as Orc mating in the eyes of humans. Coming back from that was almost as impossible as someone from such a stained family receiving the endorsement of the mage associations. My political senses couldn't guess which of the two was more significant, but I would have bet neither had been diplomatically possible. No divination of how this happened was going to come from the royal family, who resumed working their plates. 

As did I. 

A good ten minutes of stacking a small mountain of empty crab shells and swigging weak beer passed before one of the servers came to my table with a small bow making his brown hair shift. 

"I have been informed that the dancing portion of the evening is approaching. You seem well situated and, if the lord would rather enjoy his meal in peace, one of the private rooms in the curtains could be made available."

"Definitely. My feet have been put through enough these past few weeks." I agreed as some servers came to move my unfinished feast. 

I was soon enjoying a fresh steak in a pepper sauce inside a little world consisting of purple drapes forming walls and a wooden table with upholstered chairs. The mug of beer was halfway up to my lips when there was a shift in the curtains ahead letting in a slow chorus of flutes and some instrument like a violin with a deeper base. In came King Jeremy, who moved up to my table with some red on his cheeks and a mug in hand.

"Tilvor!" He yelled with a large smile. "I just wanted to give you my personal thanks for helping my daughter. Little Puffy always pushes herself too hard. Seems like all mages do these days." 

I nodded to him, noticing the eye of a guard behind him perusing the room. 

"Palta is certainly a determined leader. A good daughter for any father." I offered as I placed my mug down on the table.

Jeremy raised a black eyebrow as his thumb rubbed the wood mug.

"You're far more trusting than I would have thought."

"Days like these show you people's sides that typically take years to come out. The hard times came and she kept her head through the ups and downs. She'll make a good queen to guide her future king." 

The king smirked as he moved closer.

"I don't know where you're from, but here the queen is in charge. In a similar way to the empress of the Bodding kingdom. The king used to be stronger until my ancestors Ballud, and to a lesser extent, Geshton made the messes we're still trying to recover from. My father was something of an exception. He helped push key victories against the pirates AND the Orcs. Everyone was rather reluctant to have a king front and center in the royal family again, but he proved them all wrong…"

He paused for a second before sticking a finger up.

"Though I was the one Nestel decided to wed. I can't help but wonder what she could have possibly seen in me that wasn't present in Dad. Whatever it was, at least in that way I haven't fallen short of him."

Oh. He was THAT drunk. I looked behind him as he moved around the table, seeing the helmet of the guard still facing us even if I couldn't see him in the dim light. The king completed his journey with a small smack of his hip against the table before sitting next to me. The stab of ale that accompanied his breathing was expected, yet no less potent for it.

"I saw the place on the flight over. An impressive set of structures all around. My metal element hasn't imbued me with such an architectural ability. Maybe something about growing plants translates to making buildings." He bemoaned as he placed his tankard down next to my pile of slain crab legs.

"Not exactly." I refuted with the patient smile I would use to placate any other man at a bar. "Certain woods can be hardened to that of steel. Layering those inside the stone can act as bracing as well as providing flooring for when the stone would be too weak to be useful."

"Weak?" He asked with furrowed eyebrows and puckered lips.

"Stone is strong, in in the right shape and thickness." I offered with a quick suck of mana to fashion a thin square of grey rock. The king leaned closer with that same puzzled face as he looked at the result of my spell. As I breathed in to make the point about tensile strength, a quick shove of the curtains to my left drew both our gazes. 

"Dad!" The voice of Palta almost screamed out. I turned just in time to see the princess rushing into the room, not drunk yet still having some red in her cheeks from anger. Those royal black locks flapped with her sprint between us.

Her finely manicured hands took her father's left shoulder and yanked him out of the chair. 

"Got some bite in that grip." Jeremy offered as his daughter unceremoniously dragged a key leader of the nation out of the room. 

They disappeared through the purple cloth with my final gift being a nod from the king. My turn directly ahead showed the guard had since withdrawn from the show. Drunk man getting chewed out by their child is a fun skit in shows, though the real thing is never as pleasant. Especially when the members are descendants of an esteemed bloodline guiding a nation. 

I continued my conquest in silence. Another plate of steak and crab legs was on its last slurp when the curtains to my left shifted again. What came through was not an irate Palta or unsteady Jeremy, but the pristine Nestel.

"Tilvor, would you accompany me downstairs for a minute?" She asked in a soft tone, her soft blue eyes holding some warmth. 

As confused as I was at the situation, I was in no position to refuse the lady's request. A quick wipe with a napkin and the table was quickly left behind. We moved side by side between the curtains, the world nothing but deep purple cloth save the stone floor. One component lacking in this new world was guards, leaving just us two to walk alone. After a turn right, Nestel spoke up again.

"Do you have some issue with me?" She asked almost innocently while a platter-bearing servant ducked out of our way to the left.

"Why would you ask that? Most of my grievance was aimed at the green-laced rat."

A small chuckle came from her as we came up to a stone wall and turned left.

"When Palta was talking about me in your home, she says you got a strange look. Has my fame reached even the trees and creatures of the wilds?"

Damn this lack of face coverings. 

"It is an extraordinary tale. And you really were there all those ages ago when Rodring walked these lands?" I asked. Hearing about a fellow traveler from my universe did spark some genuine interest. 

"I suppose it does spark some skepticism on the first listen. Yes, my late husband was the vaunted ultimate mage that formed this very kingdom. As his widow, I still stand vigilant over his enduring creation." 

We came up to the stairs that served as the entry and exit for the workers. The expected turn left never came, instead, she put a hand through my right arm and moved us down with the current occupants rushing to the sides. More than one seemed to be silently praying that the two mages walking past wouldn't deign to notice them.

"The buildings are also his doing, yes?"

"Very much so." She offered with a small smile across her face. 

"A lot of glass and steel that. I would never slight your late husband's ability, Lady Nestel. However, as something of an architect, I must say I do have some criticism." I offered with our approach of the turn in the stairwell. The waft of dozens of meals went by as the boards of the stairs creaked with our descent. 

"I almost certainly raised some of those very points to him." Nestel offered ruefully. "But he said it reminded him of home."

"Where was his home? I've only ever gotten vague descriptions of the ultimate mages, and nothing ever seems to be very well-defined with them." 

"As it should be." She refuted with our turn to the last set of steps. "Everything about them is strictly controlled. An army of schemers and petty liars would be marching into every government hall all day long with grand claims if certain… aspects were not curtailed from public knowledge. Of course, honor would demand I personally oversee their execution, replete with an impassioned speech and a march displaying the body, things I certainly don't have time for.

His home, however, was never discussed in detail. My recollection is that the buildings are based on a nation called your-up. Their only neighbor was to the north. A collection of people called Asia, though any details about them are lost with Rodring. I'm inclined to say they were his personal labels for the Far Shores." She finished as we approached the stone floor.

Well, it appears some memory of hers has failed along the way. Unless Africa had lost its position beneath Asia without anyone knowing, it would be safe to assume she's not remembering everything he said correctly. When we left the staircase, our duo moved down the hall a bit to the right while the kitchen directly ahead was still at its full tempo. The hallway with gold-numbered doors started, though we stopped at none of them.

"Did he bring anything else from this…your-up?" I asked with a slow attempt to replicate the mispronunciation of Europe. 

"He had many plans and tinkerings." Nestel offered with a small sigh as we came to a double door at the end of the hall guarded by two men in lion-shaped armor. "Like all men, really. Though, he never completed most of them. Always something about certain oils or powders he couldn't remember how to make. Unlike most men, the small slice of his vision he did achieve was enough to shape the world." 

I only nodded as we came up to the doors, which the men opened for us. Inside was something between a study and a meeting room with a white tiled floor. A roaring fireplace was on the right, sporting a wooden bottom that sucked in mana to produce its smokeless flames. A large leather couch was on the left that let the sitter stare into the fire. Between them were two leather chairs sitting opposite each other. In the back was a desk by the window with bookshelves on both sides of the studious mind plying its trade. 

Palta was sitting on the chair closest to the study while a late twenties lion guard was standing near the left of the fireplace. His purple-tinted helmet imitating a roaring lion was tucked beneath his left arm, revealing brown locks. We walked forward in the flickering firelight that illuminated the otherwise dark room. 

Nestel put out a hand to the only other available seat. As I took my spot, I noticed the tense rise in Palta's shoulders and the beads of sweat on the guard's exposed forehead, as well as the fear in his green eyes. The prim queen took her spot on the purple upholstery on the couch, sitting as still as a doll. 

They were scared. 

Palta's green eyes were a bit wide and her breathing was closer to a scared rabbit's than a sitting woman's. The guard was biting his lips, and the sweat had a drop fall down his chin. Nestel was the same level of proper she had been since I had first seen her, though her eyes looked between the three of us with a cold menace. That air of dread seeped into me, making my back sit a bit more rigidly.

"All right," The queen announced like she was opening court. 

Her hand went behind her. A whoosh of air filled the room, which memory said was a noise-deadening enchantment going off. Her blue eyes turned to Palta. 

"What happened?" She intoned like a judge.

"Father was sitting beside Tilvor. I saw his lips drawn outward as they leaned together." The princess said, shooting a rather severe stare my way. 

Nestel turned to me, her hands clasped together.

"And what were you doing with Jeremy?"

A snide comment was fighting its way up. The tension in the room fought it down and I stuck to a direct answer. 

"I was showing him how stone works."

Those almost silver eyebrows furrowed, and I felt Palta's green eyes drilling into me.

"Stone is very strong. In certain shapes. Using it as flooring exposes a central weakness of the material, which is that it doesn't hold up when placed in a long thin sheet. Something I was getting ready to demonstrate."

Nestel turned to the guard along with her daughter. The poor man nodded like a man agreeing to forgo the death sentence.

"I saw a bit of stone form in Tilvor's hands. But with the music, I couldn't hear what they were talking about. I obeyed Jeremy's orders and stayed out of the room with only a look inside."

Palta's cheeks got a bit of pink from embarrassment before she looked down at her blue dress.

Ah. Were they worried people would suspect the king had more similarities to his daughter than just looks?

"Good," Nestel put in with a pleasant smile. "Derek, you are dismissed. I will see that your…discretion is properly rewarded when we return to the capital."

He did a quick bow and turned to almost fly out of the room past me. I waited for the door to close before turning to the members of royalty. The two women regarded me with piercing eyes that scoured for any signs of betrayal. 

"Can I rely on similar discretion from you, Tilvor?" Nestel asked with a subtle warmth.

"All I want is to retire someplace where I won't be eaten in my sleep. I will say nothing of… can we straighten out this conversation a bit?" 

She raised her eyebrows at me but nodded all the same. 

"Are you concerned about people finding out Jeremy might have a taste for men?"

"There is no might." The queen corrected, drawing the gaze of Palta who scrunched her blue dress in her fist. "I love that man, but that doesn't mean it is easy every time we have to cover up his repulsive acts. We had hoped he was getting better though it looks like some restriction on ale will have to be a part of setting him on the right path. Can we trust you to keep this matter close to the chest?"

"Absolutely," I agreed. There is a lot on my shoulders right now and getting enmeshed in palace wranglings was not what I came here to do. The princess looked a bit skeptical despite my assurance.

"Ale has proven the enemy of reason, and I would hate for you to say something without proper thought." Palta pressed further, biting her lower pink lip. "Can you really assure us there won't be any rumors about this incident flowing through the maids' lips in the months or years to come?" 

"If some server saw something or was of a particularly keen hearing, I have NO control over that. I can guarantee if such rumors start, they will not flow down from me. Have I not shown myself to be discerning when the time called for it?" I stated between gritted teeth in an even tone. 

Honestly, being pressed by the lesbian princess of all people on this issue was rather maddening. A bit of malcontent must have seeped into my voice because Nestel raised her right eyebrow at me.

"In what way?" She asked in a rather demanding tone.

The queen had to know what was said of her daughter and I couldn't think of a way to avoid saying it. 

"I have heard rumors around the princess" I shot my hands up defensively "Rumors I have never given life to or used to slander. Nor would I use them to hurt your family's standing just as I wouldn't use any around this incident."

Palta looked at me with furrowed eyebrows and puckered lips that spoke of absolutely no comprehension of what I was blathering on about. Nestel leaned forward with an elbow resting on the couch arm. The wheels of her centuries-old mind turned for a few seconds before she clicked her lips with a small pop and those soft blue eyes lit up in comprehension. 

"Oh, you mean her preference for women?"

Our gazes met and the aqua pools there held, not anger, but curiosity about why I had mentioned the subject in the first place. Palta was visibly uncomfortable, more in the way of someone bringing up an unpleasant memory rather than having a horrid secret blurted out.

"Tilvor," The princess asked with mild irritation as she leaned back into her chair and crossed her arms. "What does that have to do with this?"

"You share the same… proclivity as your father, do you not?" I asked, feeling like the world had suddenly tilted even as my butt remained in the seat.

Nestel now furrowed her eyebrows, leaning back into the leather of the couch before lightly coughing and speaking like I was a slow child.

"Her proclivity is for women. How is that the same as Jeremy's? Two men being together will expend virility, but a woman could lay with a hundred of her gender and be just as fertile at the end. It may not be… the best even with that, but the difference is rather obvious. Is it not?" 

We sat there staring at each other, neither side really adjusted to the other. 

"Palta said you were from the wild." The queen stated in not quite a question. 

"I spent all but my recent days there. My childhood was in a wrecked ship scrounging for supplies and feasting on a weird squid that got impaled on the ship's broken mast." 

"Well," Nestel pronounced with a rise from the couch that seemed to involve more floating than mortal movement. "The woods breed rather strange notions. But perhaps it's for the best. If you think those are the same and you acted with discretion towards her situation-" 

She stopped with a look at her daughter until Palta nodded. That doll-like beauty then turned to me with a small smile.

"Then I can trust you in the other matter. Let's put it down to a favor in the future then. Within reason, of course."

Don't, Eli.

Don't ask for specifics or try to parse this cultural morass. Get out of here and back to your room. Right now.

I pushed out of the chair with a bit more energy than required before giving her a nod and a light bow. My turn towards the back was almost complete when Nestel coughed again to draw my attention.

"Actually, Tilvor. If you do hear any more rumors concerning my daughter, I would appreciate it if you reminded people that she has given me two grandchildren and of her incredible service to our nation."

"I doubt I would need to." I offered with a smile that didn't feel too forced. "Her actions here have won her many fans among the people."

Of the three, it was the princess who seemed the least convinced. Her smile was a bit downcast, and those green eyes spoke of some internal wrangling going on. Unseen by the mother who still had her gaze on me. 

I quickly resumed the walk out of the room which concluded with a slam of the doors courtesy of the guards now behind me. The hallway was less barren now, with one or two couples kissing as they made their way into a room. Going over the conversation, I couldn't see any reason Nestel would have to off me. Killing the most visible person in Crasden would only make giants of any rumors concerning this incident with Jeremy, and of course, potentially destabilizing an entire region of her beloved late husband's kingdom. 

The arrangement was for me to stay here all night, so I couldn't make sure Jeff didn't hop on the other queen's thighs. That probably wouldn't be as big a problem as it was an hour ago. Given the situation, Verness probably took on lovers with a regular frequency and was well practiced in that vaunted discretion Nestel spoke so fondly of. But her latest paramour would have to make an expedited exit. 

No. 

If Jeff found out she was the queen, he would probably have to cling tighter to her lest she ask what he was hiding to avoid the higher echelons of society. Hopefully, he was blissfully ignorant when I next met him. It was a thorny issue that had no immediate action to be taken. 

I made it up to the door with a golden five and went inside. The shoes were quickly thrown off in the darkened room and I made it into the bed from memory. A night of rest came and went too fast for comfort. 

*Knock*

*Knock*

My hand went to the space where the mana lamp on the wall should have been until I felt the smooth surface of chilled crystal. A press against the bottom flooded my closed eyes with a faint orange glow. Bitter cold nipped at my fingers even with the relative warmth of the sheets. The heat of the base had been a far-off thing for what felt like ages and it seemed particularly distant when even the best accommodations in the city couldn't keep out the cold. 

I took a deep breath and committed to the day's first labor by opening my eyes. The second was a pull out of the barely warm blankets finished with my feet hitting the icy boards of the floor. The move across the room bathed in golden light took a second of agony but the handle was somehow reached and pulled. It was the lad, done up in the same purple with what looked like a thick green blanket in his hands.

"Here is another gift from the royal family. A warm bath is a few minutes in the making and will arrive shortly." He announced with a quick bow and stretch of the material.

I moved to take what he displayed to be a robe but stopped when he reached into the pocket of his pants. 

"A letter from Ashe, the lady of house Kraton." The messenger offered before producing a creme-colored envelope sealed with red wax that was handed off with the robe. 

"Ah, thank you." I accepted like I was being handed a snake. 

"The thanks is all mine, great mage. Lady Nestel commended me for my work in helping you." 

"A rare thing?" I asked with a raised eyebrow. The lad got a huge smile that split his now reddened face almost in half.

"Unheard of. The maids have spent all morning talking about it. I've had to retell my time with you to more than a few of them."

"All well deserved," I assured him before taking the door handle.

My former guide did another slight bow before turning away with the close of the door. 

The robe was of the same fine quality as my current attire and lacked the waft of spicy seafood. Pulling off the green coat and white shirt took a few more tugs than it should have but I was eventually down to my green pants with nothing aside from bitter cold wrapping around my bare chest. I then remembered the letter and walked to the desk by the left of the bed. Sitting down in the chair while making sure to avoid having my exposed top touch the cold wood, I opened the letter to read the political greeting and small talk. 

 'Tivlor Laperict,

 I am writing ahead to inform you that the Mountain Top and Seed associations have confirmed your ability to meet the challenge of my proposal and have been equally assured as to their assistance in your domain. It was quite a relief when they informed me that you are rather close to the single men. While this will be immensely helpful when the time to relocate them out of Crasden comes, I would advise keeping some distance in such relations. 

 The simple fact is they are all partakers of the green flesh, thus their coming expulsion. You may feel a lack of threat from the menace below due to no Orc children coming from your capture and such an attitude may prompt you to take a lax posture in their men's presence. I will warn you that doesn't mean they will not try to take you. Even if the Garren's bane is gone from Crasden, the climate and lack of wildlife in this rocky patch means they will no doubt forge some meager existence out in the fields and they will be even more interested in your abilities and crafts as we work to close the wound of the slum.

 Sincerely and with good wishes,

 Ashe Kraton.'

I drew in a lungful of icy air, continuing the needed function that had stopped at the end of the first paragraph. For a moment, I pictured my hands around the healer's throat until I re-read it. The associations appear to have been acting as an intermediary in a discussion neither of us were properly informed of.

So that was how Ashe got the seat of power back. She was going to expel all the Orc's husbands and crush their underground abode. A city with their blight moved out of sight of a mage quarter that would go on to reside next to a freshly leveled slum. No doubt being replete with gaudy parks and monuments. And it would still have the needed labor from the men since they would all be living elsewhere.

 My blood was screaming to beat Percy to a pulp then that earth caster woman for good measure. I couldn't see what the associations would gain from this deception. No. Not the associations. They certainly agreed to this proposal but Percy and that earth caster were probably the ones who deceived the two of us in order to force me into a death march with no preparation. Those petty curs stewing in self-importance probably haven't faced any real consequences for their actions since birth and figured their station would protect them from the consequences of this jab. The regret of not clobbering one of the fools in front of the royal family stung, but the important item at hand was whether to deliver what others had promised in my name.

 How many thousands of single men were here? Crasden was the main city for a minor region and that slum wasn't all husbands of Orcs. A few pointless mercies when their homes took up an entire valley and then some. The local government didn't keep good numbers on their citizens but it was tens of thousands, at the absolute least. 

What a goddamned mess. 

 Could this even be done? I had the room for a few ten thousand with all the towers…. No. Towers weren't going to be enough. The numbers involved in this many people with my current design would require layered roads to handle even decent traffic. A compact design was needed, where stacks and stacks of houses resided in large blocks with roads between each other and thick walls between each of them as well as the outer defenses. 

And I had to make sure to consider the Orcs living below. As Ashe mentioned, they could eke out a miserable existence in the rocky plains but realistically, they needed access to a city for goods. My original plan was to have towers and buildings that were too hard to move, leaving the Orcs ample time to vanish whenever my fiction demanded I push them out. It would be a sting to my pride in the craft of architecture to have people think I had stupidly forgotten about that problem, but a needed one. 

I pondered and considered the most obvious solution.

A two-level city. I could make a huge network of strong wood supports beneath all the stone acting as a cocoon for the lower sewer system and underground warehouses where the men would leave enough room for their wives. Seeing as I was about to have a workforce almost half the size of a city, it could be done. Some consideration would have to be taken to make sure the sewer tunnels and supports were sufficiently labyrinthine and the final piece supporting the upper city would need to be made into modular components with redundancies to allow the Orcs and men to work out how to puncture into the surface when needed. Most of the accommodations for the Orcs would be done by the workers outside of the blueprints and without my help, which meant I needed to make a workable subterranean structure that served its official purpose yet allowed the men to carve out a small civilization in the spaces between the supports with as few fatal errors as possible.

My hand floated to some of the papers and ink quill before stopping. My shoulders ached and my arms suddenly felt like they were filled with lead. Those well-worn mathematics began resisting the beckon to my frontal lobes. That slog before the battle was a special form of hell and this was going to be worse. Remaking everything while keeping that huge tower upright was going to require my full mental concentration, which meant I was going to have to leave a lot to the Overseer and his workers.

The vast majority of which would be new men who didn't even have the meager experience those currently under me had. 

For a moment, some selfish part of me weighed blowing up this deal that had been foisted on me. It would lead to months of political chaos if Ashe didn't couldn't fulfill the signature promise to her mage benefactors, potentially giving the pirates needed breathing room. Thousands of people could very well die in the ensuing mayhem but the Mist filth was too weak to threaten the Kisspin harvest this year. The aches in my hands and feet became more acute as if preemptively protesting the coming work. 

Was there a formula in the scriptures about how many innocent people you could let die before God wouldn't forgive you? Would it have a hard limit or was it more stages of damnation?

Then I pictured Gula's face. Not filled with rage, hatred, or fear, but wearing a look of disappointment in her husband. Disappointment in the man she thought she could rely on. I slapped the pains and groans away before retrieving the blank papers and ink. Of all the levels of divine wrath, failing those I love was the most scorching and my soul could not bear that stain. Placing the pages down, I began drawing up orders for the Overseer to be delivered and the beginnings of rough sketches for this city on a city as the brutal chill of winter whirled over my bare chest.