20.

The notorious Countess of Maylia

“I am pleased to make your acquaintance.”

Dominic bowed politely, slowly steadying himself in the presence of that gut-wrenching smell.

“I am Lio,” he replied calmly. “I am currently employed as an adviser in Helwin.”

“Oh?” She looked surprised and mildly impressed. “That is quite a prestigious position, especially for your age.”

“It is far too much for someone like me.”

“There is no need to be humble,” she said. “You should be proud of your achievements. Helwin is a territory with a long history, admired by many.”

She was either oblivious to all the viscount had done, or simply didn’t care.

“It’s been difficult to find much pride in it, considering the state of disrepair the territory has been in,” Dominic admitted.

“Are you sure you should be insulting the very place you have been appointed to?” the countess asked, raising an eyebrow.

“It is not an adviser’s job to wish blindly for things never to change.”

“Ha!”

Her laugh was one of amusement and not scorn. Dominic relaxed a little. He had chosen the right words.

“I like the sound of that,” she said. “I’ve been speaking with many of the young nobles lately, and I enjoy the way they talk of change. Truly, the future is in the hands of the new generation, not the old.”

“I conversed with Young Master Gela earlier as well,” Dominic replied. “It was quite enlightening.”

“Oh, was he speaking about the humans again?”

“Indeed.”

“And what did you glean from him?”

“That in the twelve years I was gone, the ancients have stayed obstinately the same.”

She laughed again.

“Had you hoped for things to be different on your return?” she asked.

“I had hoped that I might at least be surprised,” Dominic answered.

The countess smiled wryly.

“What are twelve years to someone who might live to be two thousand?” she said. “They won’t change in that amount of time.”

“I thought that perhaps these twelve years might have been the ones.”

“I thought that once too.”

She nodded, recalling fond memories.

“When I was young, I dreamt of revolutionary new ideas too. I thought my generation would be the one to go down in history. But our time has passed, and now it’s up to the young again.”

Dominic sighed.

“Yet even the young don’t know what to do,” he replied. “I feel like we are only biding our time, and then before you know it, another generation will have overtaken us.”

The countess chuckled lightly.

“It seems you understand my plight,” she said. “The torch keeps being passed, but as long as the king remains, the humans will stay clinging to their futile remnants of power. It’s a pathetic waiting game.”

“Are you planning just to wait?” he asked.

“That’s a dangerous question to pose, Lio,” she said. “I would never do something as foolish as provoking the king. I have a territory to run now, you see. Those flashy ideals from my younger days are not worth losing everything over.”

She smiled slyly, flicking the fan in her hand open.

“But I have never been one to bow.”

Dominic opened his as well, fanning himself lightly with it.

“You are wise, Madam,” he said. The words felt ashen in his mouth.

“It’s such a relief that I’ve found somebody who understands.”

The countess’s gaze turned away from him, drifting over the gardens, the greenery illuminated by the pinkish light of the moon.

“You are a scholar, aren’t you, Lio?” she said.

“I am.”

“Then you must know ‘Magnolia Stream.’”

Dominic calmly recalled it. It was a fairly well known poem. He was suddenly thankful that Thelo had made him study so hard to properly fit his role in the past few days.

“Adjacent to the river are the ancient magnolias,” he recited.

“Their petals on the water, blown down the stream,” she continued.

“Will one day find their place in new lands and mountains.”

“And will bloom again, and there find sights yet to be seen.”

She smiled.

“It may take unfathomable time,” she said, “but we will one day make it and take root.”

Dominic pushed back the thoughts that came to the front of his mind and managed to smile back.

“I truly hope that that time comes quickly,” he replied.

“As do I.”

She nodded sagely, then glanced up with a hint of amusement in her eyes.

“Lio, you said you were gone twelve years, correct?” she asked. “Did you never return once in that time?”

“I did, but only briefly,” Dominic replied.

“I see. Then you probably don’t know about the new attraction yet.”

He raised an eyebrow.

“New attraction?”

“Yes, a new place of entertainment in town,” she said. “It was established while you were gone. Many of the young nobles attend the exhibitions it puts on. I think you’d like it as well.”

“If the countess is recommending it, then I’d love to go,” Dominic replied.

“I can take you with me the next time I visit,” she said. “It’s much more fun to watch among friends.”

He didn’t ever want to be friends with her, but kept up an enthusiastic facade.

“Please do,” he agreed.

“I will send you an invitation in the next few days.”

She closed her fan and nodded to one of the maids behind her.

“I’ve got a bit of business left tonight, so I will have to part ways with you.”

“I’ve enjoyed conversing with you, Madam.”

“As have I.”

He bowed to her as she smiled, giving him one last look, before turning and sweeping away back towards the main building. Dominic waited, not moving, until her presence finally retreated fully inside.

He let out a breath he’d been holding and collapsed to his knees, exhausted. Having to maintain polite speech and calm mannerisms and a logical conversation all while her mana was running rampant through his senses had drained him.

“Brother!”

Aster fluttered down, landing on the path in front of him.

“Are you okay?”

“I’m fine.”

Physically, there was nothing wrong with him at all.

“Who was that?” Aster asked, nervously shuffling from foot to foot.

“The Countess of Maylia,” Dominic replied. “Do you know her?”

The crow stiffened.

“…Only rumors.”

They must not have been good. Dominic sighed and stood, bringing Aster up with him in his hand.

He glanced around, getting his bearings again, and spotted what must’ve been the magnolia tree that had reminded the countess of the poem.

Its white and pink petals littered the grass, flowers blowing calmly in the wind. She had said that it meant there would always be new growth in new places, but Dominic had thought she’d interpreted it wrong.

Magnolia petals could not birth magnolia trees. If trees bloomed in the places that the petals ended up, that meant that the trees had been there before the petals had even arrived.

The beauty and majesty of the magnolia trees were present everywhere. They had always been there, from the very beginning. It was a poem about longevity, not rebirth.

Dominic placed Aster on his shoulder, turned around, and headed away from the mansion.

∞

Thelo, having stayed at the gathering far longer than Dominic and Aster, returned to the Helwin estate just a few hours before dawn. Aster had already gone back to his new house to check on his siblings, all presumably deep asleep, but Dominic had remained, and met Thelo in his office on his arrival.

He stalked in, clearly exhausted, and sat down heavily on the couch.

“How was it?” Dominic asked with vague disinterest, studying a book he’d pulled from the shelf.

“I’ve never liked going to these kinds of events,” Thelo replied, running a hand through his hair.

“Did you gain anything?”

“Well, they all think I’m one of them now.”

He snorted, leaning his head back.

“Though they never suspected me to begin with,” he remarked. “First impressions are the easiest things to fake.”

“What were you aiming for?” Dominic asked. “I need the king, but do you?”

“I just need people who will be useful to me,” Thelo said. “Whether or not any of those guys were useful, I’ll have to wait and see.”

Dominic lowered the book slightly, hesitating for a moment.

“I should give you a warning,” he finally replied. “Those guys might not be around for much longer.”

Thelo looked up at him, brow furrowed.

“What? Don’t tell me you’ve marked them all as targets.”

“I’m not targeting them,” Dominic said, “but it’s possible that they’re involved in something the king might not like.”

He tapped his nose.

“Aster smelled blood on all of them.”

“Damn it.”

Thelo sighed, rubbing his eyes.

“Well, I guess I shouldn’t have expected anything from those brats to begin with,” he remarked. “That reminds me—if none of them are your target, then who did you mark?”

Dominic closed his book and tossed it onto the table. He couldn’t read the title, but he knew who it was about.

“No way,” Thelo said, glancing over it, “the Countess of Maylia?”

“That’s right.”

“I thought you couldn’t read.”

“You noticed?”

“I figured.”

“I wasn’t reading it, regardless,” Dominic replied.

He leaned forward and tapped the cover.

“You marked all of your journals.”

Every book in the office gave off a distinct scent, almost like a signature. Thelo must have secretly been keeping tabs on many of the nobles of Hesia, and left his notes in these books, the subjects of their pages identified subtly by the scents they carried. He’d found an entire series that reeked like the countess.

“You keep some pretty interesting things in your office,” Dominic remarked.

Thelo smiled wryly.

“I’ll actually need to add a few lines to the ‘Gela’ journal before I forget tonight,” he replied.

Dominic flipped open the book to a couple pages in the middle, depicting a series of complex insignias and other designs.

“What are these?” he asked.

Thelo leaned forward and inspected the drawings.

“Slave seals,” he answered.

Dominic frowned.

“Slavery is legal in Hesia?” he asked. He’d lived in the Helwin estate for a while, but he’d never seen anything like that.

“Technically, no,” Thelo replied. “But there are loopholes in the law. As long as something is being paid as a compensation for their labor, then it’s not considered slavery.”

He laughed dryly.

“It’s something the countess is notorious for. She keeps quite a lot of legal slaves.”

“Is this kind of thing common?” Dominic asked.

“Not common, but not uncommon,” he replied. “Even if nobles keep them, they usually don’t keep many. They’re mostly tools for dirty work, since you can make sure they won’t talk. The countess is an exception.”

“Do you have any?”

Thelo waved the notion off.

“Slavery never made it to Helwin,” he said. “My old man thought it was too lowly for a proud noble to be dealing with slaves. Personally, I wouldn't have cared.”

Thelo shrugged.

“As long as they’re willing to help me, I think it’s reasonable to want a guarantee that they wouldn’t leak my secrets. I’m the lord of a territory. It’s my responsibility not to leave loose strings.”

“You must hate working with me, then.”

“Well, it’s certainly not enjoyable.”

Dominic studied the drawings on the paper, tracing them with a finger.

“These seals force them to obey commands?” he asked.

“Some simple ones,” Thelo said. “It’s easy to program seals that will make them never speak. But for other things, it’s more like a threat?”

He swirled his finger in the air as if tracing one out.

“The seals are healing magic, and the slaves are people who need it, whether from chronic illnesses or whatnot. They’re only staying alive because they’ve offered their bodies in exchange for health. So if they disobey, they’re at risk of the owner just disconnecting the seal and letting them die again.”

“It’s like being held hostage.”

“Indeed.”

Dominic thought about it for a moment. It was an interesting design, a completely different style to the Vainish magic devices he knew. But he still couldn’t fathom how the countess’s mana could’ve become the way that it was. Owning slaves wasn’t enough.

It probably had something to do with the new ‘attraction’ she’d spoken about.

He glanced up from the book. Thelo was leaning back on the couch, rubbing his eyes, clearly exhausted.

“I’ll let you go after one more question,” Dominic said.

“Ask it quickly.”

“How many of the nobles can I get rid of?”

Thelo looked down at him for a moment, studying his face.

“I’m sure at least a few of them will be of use to you in the future,” he continued. “If they happen to be involved in something that disturbs the king, can I purge all of them?”

Thelo paused, then let out a chuckle.

“Oh, Dominic,” he said, seemingly amused at the serious question. “How could I ever stop you?”

He reached forward, picked up the book on the table, and closed it.

“Do whatever you want.”