Chapter 6: Parental Deception

“Father,” Fallon said cautiously as she unclenched the cords of her robe. “You broke my door—again.”

The ginger-haired Praeditus with a silver-tinged beard and hairline grunted in response as he crossed his arms. The man’s steel-blue eyes stood out sharply against a gaunt, pale face that bespoke of bygone years when Xander Gaumond had been a Sentinel before he retired and chose the path of a banker. Instead of monsters, the retired Ice Mage now dealt with greedy politicians, obstinate nobles, and the unending pitiful needy who came to his door, asking for a handout or loan.

Xander Gaumond. Nucleus (Ingenium). Class (Mage). Rank (A). Level (90) Ice Magus Xander. Health: 1,207,505/1,207,505. Mana: 483,002/483,002. Experience till next level: ᚢᛜᚲᚾᛟᚹᚾ/2,271,400. Status Effects: [Fatigued]

As his status suggested, Xander looked tired and rather annoyed. The Ice Mage had a habit of burning the midnight oil to read through various tomes or stare into the darkness until the sun rose. Fallon had encountered her father in this odd stasis more than once when attempting to sneak out at night before Asmodeus reluctantly agreed to allow the Warlock to use his Dementher door.

“Don’t dodge the question, Fallon,” Xander growled as his eyes narrowed in on her robe and then dropped to her boots. “Where have you been?”

“I don’t understand,” Fallon answered flippantly with a sigh. “I’ve been in my bedroom this entire time.”

Lie Detected!

The Warlock’s eyes twitched as her passive skill [Dementher’s Perception] kicked in with inconvenient timing as usual.

Social Ability—Dementher’s Perception Although you cannot read minds, you can now discern between truth and lies both verbal and written. Settings: (_) Manually Activate, (x) Auto Activate when experiencing heightened stress, (_) Always Active.

After receiving the skill several years ago, Fallon had tested all settings for activation and found choices 1 and 3 were too much of a hassle to deal with. Despite the ambiguity of option 2, it was at least less distracting in her day-to-day life, and she could always flip to Manual when desired.

‘I just wish the skill wouldn’t trigger every time I tell a lie. Hopefully, the settings will upgrade when I reach C-Rank.’

“You haven’t set foot outside your bedroom?” Xander repeated with sharp skepticism. “Then why was your maid searching for you frantically downstairs?”

“Flora?” Fallon blinked and frowned. “But she was ill and took the afternoon off—”

“Pardon, Praeditus,” the maid in question stepped through the door behind Xander with her eyes lowered timidly. “But you were missing when I checked in on you earlier.”

Fallon exhaled in disbelief at the woman with black hair cropped just below her ears. “I dismissed you yesterday because you said you were feeling unwell—”

“It was just a cold, Praeditus,” Flora interrupted with a sideways glance at Xander. “I am much better after my rest.”

“Apparently,” Fallon snapped. “Seeing as you came back to snoop around our house at Noctis after all the other servants have gone to bed. Your shift doesn’t start until the second hour of Solis.”

“No, Praeditus! I only returned early to catch up on my unfinished work!”

Lie Detected!

Fallon’s topaz-blue eyes narrowed in on Flora. Truthfully, the woman still looked a bit under the weather. Her eyes were sleep-deprived, her nose still noticeably red, though her cough from the previous morning appeared to have gone. ‘But why risk returning while the city is under curfew? And why lie about her reason for coming back?’

“If you’ve finished interrogating your maid,” Xander said impatiently as he motioned for Flora to withdraw. “Perhaps you could answer my question. Where were you when Flora came to check in on you?”

“I told you, I was in my room.”

“Flora says you weren’t.”

“So you’re choosing to believe a recently hired Esus over me?”

Fallon didn’t miss the look of annoyance on Flora’s face at being referred to by her rank. Esus stood for E-Ranked, though often meant unranked. Unranked citizens were those who did not (or had not) received a nucleus class from a Gate Nucleus. Fallon at D-Rank would usually be referred to as a Trion, but most children were recognized by their parent's rank and title until they reached eighteen and were considered legal adults. This practice was often resented as nepotism by those forced to show respect and preferential treatment to children who had not actually attained A-Rank.

“Don’t—” Xander snapped as he stepped forward and pointed a finger at Fallon. “It’s not Flora’s fault that you go through maids as quickly as you go through shoes.”

“I go through door locks a lot quicker,” Fallon quipped and then knelt to snatch up the broken bolt. “Speaking of which, how was Flora supposed to know whether I was in my room or not if she could. not. enter?”

“That—” Xander’s gaze snapped from the bent bolt to Flora, who visibly cringed.

‘I don’t know what it is you’re hiding but using me as a scapegoat was your mistake.’

“I—knocked on the door,” Flora explained hesitantly.

“You returned before Solis to knock on your Mistress’s door just to confirm if I was in my room or not?” Fallon queried with a cynical smile.

“I-I only—” Flora’s green eyes narrowed in irritation than alarm as Xander turned to focus on her with a frown and a healthy dose of his [Icy Veins] skill turned the bedroom frigid. “If she didn’t leave her room—then why is she wearing clothes under her robe?” The maid’s eyes danced around the room and then settled in the direction of Asmodeus, still stretched out on the quilt but invisible to everyone but the Warlock. “And why is she hiding a sword under her bed?”

‘Oh, you treacherous little rat!’ Fallon flinched as her father’s cold gaze followed the maid’s directing finger and locked in on the hilt of the sword Corbin had loaned her. ‘Damn it, Asmodeus. You were supposed to keep that safe!’

“You have a new sword,” Xander observed in a calm voice that sent a shiver prickling down Fallon’s spine. “Where and how did you obtain that sword?”

“The—usual way?”

“I see. Which blacksmith or weapons shop did you buy it from then?” Xander pressed as he stepped past Fallon to lift the sword and inspect its handle for the crafter’s stamp.

Fallon grimaced as she stepped back and crossed her arms. She knew better than to lie and put some random shop or crafter at her father’s mercy. As Leader of the Banker’s Guild and a city Praefectus, it would be all too easy for Xander to have a shop closed and its owner and their family kicked out of the city.

“I borrowed it,” Fallon answered truthfully. “Anyway, what does it matter? How am I supposed to leave my room when I’m caged in here, and a Consultus is guarding the front door?” She pointed towards the barred bedroom windows that had been welded shut since Fallon turned fifteen and Xander caught her sneaking down a rope to practice sword fighting with Corbin. Commander Larkin’s son, who was three years older than Fallon, was the Warlock’s oldest friend—indeed her only friend, truth be told, despite Xander’s efforts to separate them.

“Borrowed?” Xander repeated, completely ignoring Fallon’s attempts to shift the conversation. “Ahh—” the Praeditus grip on the Jabal Short Sword tightened. “I see. It seems Larkin’s boy didn’t take my last warning seriously.”

Fallon’s fingers dug into the robe and leather armor underneath as she frowned. ‘What warning is he talking about? Corbin didn’t mention anything like that.’

“I’ll be confiscating this,” Xander growled as he casually rested the sword against his shoulder.

“What? No! That’s my sword!” Fallon protested.

“I’ll be returning it to its rightful owner,” Xander replied grimly as he stepped past her. “And have a word with Commander Larkin while I’m at it.”

‘Shit! I am so screwed….’

“Good work, Flora,” Xander said with a nod to the maid, who smiled with visible relief as she bobbed her head to the departing Praeditus. “Since you’re here, you might as well help your Mistress get dressed for this morning's early meeting.”

“Of course, Praeditus,” Flora replied as she attempted to shut the door behind him but quickly found the top hinge had been knocked loose as well and wisely left it alone.

Fallon’s hands tightened into fists at her side, but she kept her expression neutral as Xander turned around with one last look in her direction.

“I’ll see you at breakfast shortly, Fallon. Don’t be late.”

“She won’t be late, Praeditus,” Flora replied confidently and bobbed another curtsey as Xander disappeared down the hall.

‘Shall I deposit your maid into an unpleasant bog of monster?’ Asmodeus’s voice hissed inside the Warlock’s head as he left the bed and nudged one of Fallon’s trembling hands with his nose.

‘No,’ Fallon replied and shook her head as she looked down at the bent door lock in her hand. ‘That won’t be necessary.’

“Shall I prepare some water to wash your face, Praeditus?” Flora asked, inflicting Fallon’s title with a hint of cynicism.

Fallon focused on the older woman’s green eyes and offered a political smile she had mastered as one of Highguard’s youngest Praefectus. “Flora, how long have you been working as my maid?”

“Pardon?” Flora blinked and then answered. “Just about a week now, Praeditus.”

“Who did you work for before you entered the Gaumond household?”

The maid’s gaze wavered as she fidgeted with the apron around her waist. “Ah—the Belins.”

Lie Detected!

“There’s no Praeditus family by that name.”

“Oh—No, Praeditus. They were a Consultus family.”

Lie Detected!

Fallon’s eyebrow twitched. A Consultus family was a B-ranked family, who, while only one tier below Praeditus in ranks, did not have access to highly placed positions inside city government which was reserved for Praeditus only.

‘There’s no way Father would have hired the maid of a Consultus family without doing a proper background check on both. Still, I'm not buying her story especially given how much she’s setting off [Dementher’s Perception].’

“Will that be all, Praeditus?” Flora said briskly as she turned towards the door. “We should get ready, so we don’t keep the Praefectus waiting.”

“Flora!” Fallon called after the maid as she followed the lying rat to the door.

“Yes, Praeditus?” Flora said nervously as she stopped and turned in the doorway.

“You’re fired.”

“W-what? But—”

With little concern for the door’s broken state, Fallon smiled as she stepped back and slammed it in the stunned Esus’s face.

Without Flora’s help, it took Fallon a bit of work to get dressed in her official robes. The inner layer of white Starlight Linen Robes that Fallon wore over her undergarments was followed by the outer Black Chimera Velvet Robes, sewn with golden Spellweave thread with matching Black Chimera boots, gloves, and belt. On top of the robe’s shoulders, Fallon wore a thick chained necklace of Titanium and Rubies that further signified her status as a City Praefectus. The cost of the ensemble was enough to buy an entire set of B-grade plate armor or feed an average family of three for a month.

“It’s too much!” Fallon protested as she slumped into the seat by her desk. “I want to sleep—why do I have to go to work this early!”

“Are you throwing a tantrum?” Asmodeus asked with a hint of laughter. The Dementher unfurled from the shadows, stretched like a cat, and then strolled across the carpet towards his Warlock.

“He took my sword, Asmodeus,” Fallon sulked as she slid further down the chair. “Corbin loaned me that sword. What am I supposed to do now without a weapon?”

The Dementher’s wolf ears flicked back and forth as his abyssal black eyes studied her silently.

“What?” Fallon demanded, then jumped to her feet as a heavy knock almost sent her broken door toppling over.

“Ah—Apologies, Praeditus,” a masculine voice called through the widened gap. “The Praefectus asked me to summon you downstairs for breakfast.”

Fallon leaned over her chair and nodded as she recognized Consultus Able, a B-Ranker who served as her father’s bodyguard.

It was not at all uncommon for Sentinels, especially those who barely managed to survive a gate or chaotic dungeon, to retire and seek less treacherous employment as bodyguards or mercenaries for the elite families. Many became trainers for young Praeditus eager to rise through the ranks to fulfill their families’ expectations. Such positions tended to pay more than the average Sentinel salary since elite families were normally employed as city officials and also paid by the Paragon to oversee and protect their respective territories.

“Fine. I’m on my way,” Fallon replied and hurriedly brushed through her shoulder-length blonde hair before she grabbed the Black Chimera robe from her wardrobe, tossed it over her shoulder, and headed to the door. She forgot to open it carefully and leapt back as the door crashed to the floor with a thud. “Cyrel’s thunder!”

“Not to worry, Praeditus,” Able said with a sigh as he held out a hand over the fallen door. “I’ll let Mr. Atler know to send for a carpenter and get that fixed—again.”

“Ha—” Fallon ignored the Duelist’s hand and stomped loudly over the defeated door. “Tell him to install a stronger interior lock while you’re at it.”

“I’m not sure that would help, Praeditus,” Able replied with an expression that said, ‘Won’t it just get broken as well next time?’

“I’m less concerned about the Praefectus entering my room than I am the new staff,” Fallon replied as she led the way down the hall towards the central staircase that led to the first floor.

‘Asmodeus,’ she mentally pinged the Dementher who had remained behind in the room.

‘Yes, Warlock?’

‘Is Flora still in the building?’

‘I can hear her sniveling in the kitchen from here.’

Fallon rolled her eyes and turned down the stairs. ‘Keep an eye on Flora while I’m gone. If she leaves the house, follow and see who she stops to speak to.’

There was a moment’s pause before the Dementher responded with a note of hungry anticipation, ‘As you wish, Warlock.’

‘Asmodeus—don’t eat her.’

Another long pause followed until the Dementher answered with a rather sulky, ‘Fine.’