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Master Mages Marriage

Rewarded for his contributions in the war, Nikolai Morales moved his small family to the border lands the Emperor granted him. As the youngest War Mage in the Imperial Army, Nikolai is caught in the middle of a power struggle as princes vie for succession. The war may be over, but the Empire has been shaken and to many he is but a pawn for the powerful, his abilities and reputation the key to solidifying their power base. His parent’s worry and in a bid to secure his future they look for an alliance with one of the great ancient Houses of the Empire, but not just anyone can match someone of his stature and the young woman dispatched to become his fiancée is a knight of the highest order. Will politics get in the way of love? Or will two people find a spark to protect themselves and maybe a nation in the process? It’s time for the Master Mages Marriage.

lewstherin · ファンタジー
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92 Chs

Neva(2)

"I don't think he likes me." Nikolai picked at the fluffy pastry with his fork, barely noticing the extravagant place settings and lavish furnishings Natalia made sure to point out when they entered the parlour. His chest tightened in memory of the Duke's actions.

"Don't worry Niki. I'm sure papa is just occupied at the moment." Elya didn't look convinced of her own words, rubbing her scar and turning from his gaze.

"Of course. He arranged the marriage and then lost interest in the groom he selected."

"He's just teasing you." Elya squeezed his shoulder and turned to Natalia for support. The old woman snorted and looked up from her pastry, crumbs dotting her wrinkled face. She picked up her cane and everyone around the table flinched, the servants around them backing away in fear. Even the elderly butler standing behind Nikolai slid back half a pace. It was just enough to be out of range of Natalia's swing and Nikolai confirmed his suspicions about the servant the Duke assigned him when they arrived at the manor. Only a well-trained soldier or agent would be able to gauge a weapon's threat so well.

"Now listen to me you brats. What he thinks doesn't matter."

"He's going to be my father-in-law soon, so it matters a great deal."

Natalia snorted, spearing the pastry on her plate with a quick flick of a fork. With a cane in one hand and fork in the other, she was the very image of a Spellsword, those odd Mages who relied on their physical abilities as much as their Magic. The fork seemed far more dangerous in her hands than any enchanted blade could be though.

"He's still a brat!" She coughed great heaving bursts of air, some crumbs lodging in her throat in her excitement. After a few seconds of people scrambling to give her water, she glared at them and waved the fork menacingly for a moment, before switching to waving the cane when half the pastry fell onto the table. "All that matters is my opinion and I sort of like you boy."

"Thanks. It means a lot." The words dripped with sarcasm but deep down Nikolai was a little touched by her support. "Still, I would like to know what he thinks." He smiled at her suggestively, trying to waggle his eyebrows for emphasis.

"Well I wouldn't like to tell you." She thumped the table, making them all jump at the clattering silverware.

"Why not? I'm sure you can tell something since you watched him grow up." Elya was slowly shifting her chair away from the old woman, making sure her movements were measured and unnoticeable.

"It's far more fun this way." Natalia cackled in delight at her nieces stunned face. Although Elya had known her all her life, Nikolai sometimes wondered why she expected the old woman to be serious about anything.

"I'm sure we can reach some sort of accommodation." He reached into his coat, drawing a small vial which he uncorked and placed on the table. He hadn't expected to use this so quickly, especially not for something so simple, but he felt out of his depth facing Duke Suzdal. With a clear pop, the dense fragrance of flowers filled the room cut by sharp vapours of alcohol. "This should be enough to get some information."

"Is that First Emperor's nectar?" Natalia's eyes glowed with passion, fixed on the tiny vial while inhaling deeply. "It must be! I can smell the acanthus and firesbane. I'm surprised the royal brat gave you any. He hates sharing his stuff."

"The Son of Heaven gave me this single vial. I've held onto it for a while, thinking to share it with my Master when I got the chance. After all, he does have a passion for the archaic vintages." Which wasn't strictly true. The Emperor handed him the keys to the cellar after a particularly rowdy evening and Nikolai made sure he 'forgot' to return it. Therefore, his supply numbered in the hundreds, if not thousands, of vials.

Natalia reached out for the wine, but Nikolai was ready, snatching the vial from the table. He ignored her glare, corking the vial tightly and leaning back. "Something so valuable can't just be handed over casually my dear aunt."

"I'm warning you boy. I don't take well to threats." The heat in her voice almost felt real but Nikolai knew her better. Better than her own family apparently, since only Jarek remained at the table, oblivious to the tension and devouring the snacks laid out for them. Even Elya retreated to a safe distance, wary of her aunt.

Nikolai cleared his throat and rolled the vial across his palm, avoiding Natalia's fervent gaze. She followed the vial with her eyes hungrily, cane held loosely at her side. "It's not a threat. Just basic facts. I can't trade this away without some form of recompense."

"You just said you were going to hand it over to that old goat of yours." It was a good thing Etenani wandered off after their arrival, bored with the ceremony, otherwise another fight would have broken out at the insult.

"In return for a lifetime of teachings." He coughed at the prevarication. His Master's 'teachings' were anything but useful. "Not for free."

"And I haven't taught you anything?" The cane was now wavering dangerously a few inches from his nose, but Nikolai didn't flinch.

"For which you've already been paid. Excessively some might say." Nikolai leaned back a little. [I'm not scared of her cane. Just don't want to have my vision blocked. And the throbbing in my leg must be from the ride. Definitely not scared.]

"Alright boy. I'll play along, but you keep your end of the deal." She dropped the cane across her lap when he nodded in agreement and moved closer so only he could hear her whispers. "He's jealous."

"What?" Nikolai jumped at his own high pitch, glancing guiltily around the room. Elya was inching towards them, twirling a lock of hair around a finger in a pathetic attempt to appear disinterested.

"I doubt you were paying much attention to what the girl and her father were discussing but I caught enough." Natalia smirked at him, clearly delighted by the situation. "She couldn't stop gushing about her shiny new fiancée. Oh stop grinning like an idiot."

Nikolai rubbed his mouth to remove the smile rippling across his lips and eagerly dragged his chair forwards. "What did she say? Is she happy? What does she like best about me?"

Natalia blinked at the barrage of questions and rapped him on the head lightly. "That's for you to find out. I won't interfere with you love-birds." She coughed at Nikolai's flat glare and clarified. "Well not too much. Don't be fooled by that boy's stern visage. He dotes on his daughters and Elya's been gone a long time, serving with the Knights of Chernigov, across most of the Empire. The boy expected a long happy conversation about her time away but instead all he heard was stories about you."

Nikolai preened at the explanation. At least the Duke didn't have a personal grudge. Everything could be resolved as long as he hadn't committed some blunder. Relieved, he settled into his chair and tossed the vial of nectar to Natalia. She gushed over it, caressing the glass and crooning under her breath.

"What's First Emperor's nectar?" Elya returned and dragged her chair as far from her aunt as possible while still remaining at the table.

"It's a special vintage of wine which can only be produced in the Imperial palace. The recipe is known only to the Emperor and his Imperial vintner. Anyone who even has an inkling of the recipe is imprisoned."

"Why haven't I heard of it before?" Elya stared at the vial with wide eyes. Anything the Son of Heaven himself treasured to this extent was bound to be remarkable.

Nikolai shrugged. "I would have been surprised if you did. As far as I know only the greatest connoisseurs even know the name. More than that, the Emperor is surprisingly stingy in its distribution, so the number of people who've tasted it are few. It's a strange substance, meant to have cleansing properties capable of removing even the most powerful poisons."

"Astonishing."

Nikolai patted her shoulder. "I guess. No documented case exists to prove its efficacy though and not enough is available to test it rigorously either."

At ease, he picked up a fork only to discover an empty table. Even the small cake from his plate was gone. His stomach rumbled. [Of course. Now that I'm feeling hungry my unfilial apprentice has already finished everything.]

"And why did you feel the need to steal from my plate Jarek?"

"You weren't eating Khan." Jarek mumbled through stuffed cheeks. "You know the rules."

"Rules?" Elya was unsuccessfully trying to hide her grin behind a cup of tea.

"Yes Khanbikeh. The Rules of the Table." Jarek reached into his pouch and to Nikolai's horror, solemnly withdrew a tattered scrap of parchment. [I forgot he kept that Fates cursed thing!] "Rule number four. If someone ignores their plate for five minutes, it shows their disinch… disink…. disinterest…" Nikolai reached out to snatch the paper while Jarek struggled with his recitation but his hand was caught immediately. Elya snickered and covered his mouth while Jarek continued to narrate solemnly. "Rule number seven. Disinterest equals disrespect. Those who disrespect food don't deserve it, so it's fair game." He waved the parchment at them once and carefully returned it to his pouch. Satisfied with his argument, he grabbed a mug with both hands while a maid poured milk with a red face. Nikolai slumped at the soft snickers coming from the servants and covered his face.

"Jarek. Where did you get those rules?" Elya kept throwing him glances as she asked the boy and Nikolai's face flushed with even more embarrassment.

"The Khan taught me. This copy was even written by him. He wrote it a month before you came Khanbikeh." Jarek beamed proudly at the statement.

"Kill me." Nikolai whispered.

"Not yet Niki." Elya chuckled and stroked his hair. "It's not that bad. Amusing even." He grunted in response, planning a series of arduous tasks for Jarek as punishment. "If you're hungry, we can always get more food…"

As if to prove her incorrect, the doors slammed open, and a valet scurried inside clutching a strange wooden sceptre. Nikolai sighed at the worn sceptre, recognising the markings of the Suzdal lineage. The Suzdals were ready faster than expected.

"Count Morales! The ancestors summon you." The valet boomed, waving the sceptre in figure eights as a traditional blessing.

Nikolai's stomach growled as he stood up and Elya squeezed his arm in sympathy. [I doubt I'll get anything to eat now. Maybe I should have an egg?] Elya's piercing gaze shot through him before he could even complete the thought, resting on the bag at his waist. He grimaced and reached into the bag as they walked out of the room. Nikolai made sure no one could see his movements or they would all end up asking him for eggs. He gave Elya an egg and popped one into his mouth, trudging through the hallway and watching her out of the corner of his eye as she licked her fingers clean in delight.

[How did she know?]