Reep didn’t like the preposterous antics of the glamorously rich. She didn’t like the fact that someone with ungodly amounts of money had the means and the arrogance to treat those without such money horribly. She certainly didn’t like that they all generally had slaves of various degrees.

But such was the life for the nobility. Nobility often knew they were rich and played the part quite well. They spoke different, ate different, wore impeccable threads, had uncalloused hands, and had a never fading chip on their shoulder.

But what really bugged Reep was the type of rich family that had competitions with other rich families. Extravagant parties and lavish gifts just to impress someone of equal, or higher, stature.

Lester was someone the young [Archer] thought to be an exception. He had worked his way up from literally nothing in this world. He aided those best he could while growing alongside a city. Even after his disappearance, the man gave away his fortune and estate to someone just like him.

The woman Reep and Clammy were to meet was not one such person. Clammy had described this particular Salaen noble as a brat, even though the woman was nearly two centuries old. She explained that the [Matriarch] of the Brontman House was someone who lived in the glitz and glamor of the extreme.

A dish at a restaurant not unique enough? It was to be remade and refunded. A party not up to the accounts that held together her checkbook? The party would be canceled until the budget was increased. A child didn’t bow correctly? Reformation and physical punishment until the kid got it right.

But Ms. Brontman held political capital. Enough to warrant a direct visit into the heart of Salae.

Getting into the capital was far easier than it should have been. Even though Clammy was excommunicated by her homely castle’s peers and family, that didn’t mean she wasn’t allowed into the city. It was a bold and obvious move, one that Bishop and the young woman had planned with great acknowledgement.

They deemed it necessary, after all, how were they going to get a Salaen noble to meet with an ex-princess anywhere other than Salae. Some might take a small vacation to Lesterwood for a weekend getaway, but most saw the writing on the wall. They knew what Clammy was pushing for, but they didn’t know how much she was willing to go for her goals.

So, nobles like Brontman set out a… challenge. How would Clammy of Lesterwood respite her title of Bella of Salae. Would she knock on the front door of those she wished to see? Would she scamper through the Gate System and be held back by the guard? Would she communicate in writing through the peasant post?

This challenge only had one true answer, to simply knock. It would only cause issue if Eden decided to check the Houses Clammy met with. If by some decently high chance the state had dirt on the Houses, than the entire conversation could be relayed back to the King.

That’s why Bishop and Clammy had been colluding a decently organized plan. Clammy was going to say, at least not in so many words, her plans for the future. She was never going to hint at what was to come, who was stationed to be allies, or even how her future site played into the politics of the matter.

That was note a failsafe the two were going to rely on, but it was nice to at least know that someone in the future was looking out for the Clammy in the present. Meaning that if a meeting were to go horribly, hopefully the Diviner would get to see it before setting the course.

Reep took a single glance at her companion before slapping the ornate knocker into the even more ornate door. The door itself looked to be custom built, aged wood, expertly crafted, masterfully painted, and unworn. Either nobody visited the Brontman estate or there were expensive wards keeping the frames up to perfection.

It took only a few moments for the door to be opened. A tall man, Elven, wearing butler attire craned his head and looked at those shorter than he. He eyed both Reep and Clammy, making note for weapons and or threats.

“Come in.” He said, turning away and gesturing. His pressed cufflinks flared enough for Reep and Clammy both to see the brand that marked his skin.

The Elf had a deep red tattoo – a slave mark. Both the girls hesitated at the sight, but they knew the antics of the nobles and how impossible it would be to change their views. Slavery was something that was simply accepted in Salae.

They were led to a pompous sitting room. It wasn’t the real sitting room, rather one full of odds and ends that explained wealth to a ridiculous point. They were instructed to sit as others brought in tea and finger snacks, both of the magical variety.

After some time, a woman sauntered in causing a ripple of perfume and the drumming of high heels. Frase Brontman was short and thin but layered in frilly clothing that added to her size. She brushed against the door frame as she entered, holding out a hand and addressing Clammy with a sadistic grin.

“Bella Salae.” She said, slurring the kingdom’s name like it was a banished fool, “I’m a bit shocked to see you here if I’m being honest. I expected you to be another scammer looking to cash in on a familiar name. They wouldn’t be the first, nor the last.”

Clammy curtsied her typical adventuring attire, making special note to play the part of princess even if it wasn’t exactly true anymore, “Thank you for the invitation, [Matriarch]. Your home is quite wonderous.”

Reep forced herself not to smile or smirk at her teammate’s obvious pandering. They had discussed their roles before entry and, while normally not an issue, Reep found her emotionless bodyguard role somewhat difficult in this situation.

“No its not.” Brontman scoffed, “This is my winter house. The true treasures are elsewhere.”

“A pity, I’ll have to visit some other time.”

Clammy and the noble took their seats, Reep standing behind her partner like a hardened tree. They didn’t expect any issues, but potential [Assassins] were always a possibility. Although the Diviner didn’t think that was the case on this political expedition.

In fact, Clammy didn’t even think Salae castle even knew about her and Reep’s arrival to the city. Upon their entry from the Gate Hub, not once did either of the two girls feel prying eyes or inquisitive stares. It wasn’t wholly unexpected, either. After all, Salae was dealing with a much grander issue at the moment.

The Healer walk-out had caused a tidal wave of after effects. Most notable the near riots at the castle gates. The poor and weak were coming in droves to protest the royals in notable ways. The guard had to be called to the city’s upper echelon to combat the growing swells of the concerned.

Thus allowing the Humble Titans ease of passage.

“I would love to go through the extra pleasantries usually associated with such a visit from the royal family, but for that member to be you…”

Clammy held up her hands in surrender, “I am here not fully as a citizen of Salae, that is true. I have been ousted by the King and I am content to continue his wishes. But I cannot forget the kingdom that raised me.”

Reep knew the words were nothing but a roundabout lie. Clammy really didn’t care about her family name or her relationship with her eldest brother. She did care about the citizens of Salae, that much was true. But she had phrased it in such a way that made it seem like she carried more political sway than she actually did.

The kingdom that raised Clammy was Lesterwood.

Maybe her childhood was within the walls of the castle high up the hilly terrain of Salae, but Clammy wasn’t born until Bella truly died. Reep knew very well that when she spoke of the kingdom that raised her, she meant the city that crested the bend of a river.

After all, Clammy was sure that Lesterwood would be better off with Max in its walls. And that was related directly to Eden’s rule.

“Oh? And what does that have to do with me?” Brontman laughed.

Clammy only shrugged, “I just want to know how the kingdom is holding up since my father’s passing. Has there been any news on my mother?”

Reep saw a pang of guilt in the [Matriarch]’s lips. There was a reason House Brontman was the first choice for gripping a political foothill, and the relationship between the kidnapped [Queen] and Frase was just it.

The two had been friends for a long, long time. They met somewhere down the line of looking for suiters. And while Evelynn married and eventually became the mother of the kingdom, Frase only ever became the mother of her House.

Jealousy was a powerful deterrent for friends, but the two never had a falling out. So, when the [Queen] was taken, House Brontman was first in line to help.

“Unfortunately no.” Frase said, a sudden sadness filtering across her eyes, “I heard news of a scouting party being annihilated, but nothing since then. I only know that more parties were sent out.”

Clammy grit her teeth, her mother was a sore spot to her. She regretted the situation that stemmed from her visions and she lost sleep over the thought of what they were doing to her mother. A terroristic organization kidnapping the [Queen] of a major kingdom then silence.

There was no ransom, there were no demands. Only silence. And that worried those in the know more than anything else.

“What about the situation with the Healers? That didn’t form from the attacks, did it?”

Again, Reep knew Clammy was lying. All members of the Humble Titans knew very well the cause for the Healer’s departure. In fact, besides a few notable others, Reep and Clammy were marked as the few who knew the full story about why the Healers were leaving.

They had received letters from Max and Vel explaining the fight with Nix the Doppelganger. Which were then followed by letters explaining the assassination attempt, the direct intervention by a God, and a few theories about the future were going to be. Which were then followed by a letter from Alia that went into detail about where to start the political crusade.

Suffice to say, they figured their knowledge of the current situation of Salae was more correct than most nobles.

“Ugh.” Brontman snuffed, “Don’t get me started on that. It has been three days since the Church of Healing left. Three days! Do they not know how large of a disaster this is causing within the city!? I, for one, have the opinion the Healers should be fined upon their reentry. They are costing us thousands.”

Reep raised an eye at that. The Salaen noble was worried about profits rather than the sick? Well, she wasn’t really surprised. Not when the lower levels of the kingdom were full on slums.

Clammy nodded knowingly, “Has the King said anything about the matter? I would ask him myself… but… you know…”

Brontman nodded, “Well, I wouldn’t expect you to know anything about what has been happening recently in the castle, buuut…” She leaned in, “There was another attack.”

“What?” Clammy said, echoing Reep’s internal thought.

“It’s all very hush hush, right now, but the King was attacked before the Healers left. He’s been secluded for the most part since. Well, that isn’t to say he wasn’t secluded before, but now more so than ever.”

“I-is he okay? I mean, was it if he’s gone into hiding-“

Brontman raised a manicured hand, “He’s not in hiding. He is moping. The attacker killed his right hand man. The King woke up to a corpse, as I’m told.”

Clammy retorted a little. From everything she understood and saw about the attack on the Coalition, Eden had been tortured quite thoroughly. Was a reminder of the torture causing a spiral of emotion? Is he not grieving the loss of an [Attendant] and is rather reliving past memories?

Could that be exploited?

“That has to have some lasting effect, right?” She finally said.

Brontman waved her off, “Of course, after all he’s done nothing about the Healer situation since it started. Nothing. At. All. It’s like he doesn’t care.”

Clammy saw her chance, “Is there anything I could do? I don’t hold power as a royal, but I do have some friends in the guard and Church of Healing that can help out?”

Reep saw the gamble for what it was. This was a call to action for House Brontman. Join in hand with Clammy of Lesterwood in spite of Eden’s wishes or hold off and suffer economically. It was a gamble, one that could get them thrown out or hugged, but Reep felt it worth it.

“Oh? Friends in the Church? Who?”

“[Head Priest] Manus Milvarn, “ Clammy said slowly, eyeing her opponent’s tells, “and I’ve even met God Subuntu once. Reep here even has a gift from him.”

That did get a reaction, both from Brontman and Reep. They stared at the young [Gravity Mage] in disbelief.

The [Matriarch] because she couldn’t believe her eyes. Bella Salae meeting a God? Preposterous.

Reep looked at her teammate in bizarre amusement, wondering how far acting like a God was a friend would get them.

“Truly? You’ve met a God? I find that hard to believe.”

Clammy smothered a smile, “I’ve met a few, actually. But that’s beside the point. What is important is that I have the connections. I don’t have the power or influence. Can you help with that? I don’t know if I can convince an entire Church to replace their faith in the Kingdom, but I will try.”

“I certainly don’t have the power to go against the crown… although I might be able to bring some others in.” Brontman said, “But I need proof.”

Clammy smiled, completing the trap, “Reep? If you wouldn’t mind showing her the gauntlet Subuntu gifted you.”

Reep paused. Titan’s Gauntlet was what her teammate was referring to, but that was not the gift Subuntu gave her. She looked at the ex-princess and received a wink in response.

Hesitantly, Reep activated the spell, trusting in her friend. Lightning snapped into place, forming almost instantly and from nothing. It armored her hand, wrist, and up her forearm. A second clap of lightning sounded, recreating the gauntlet but on the other hand.

“Show her their power.” Clammy purred.

With a shrug, Reep slammed her fists together. A shockwave of unique capacity blasted from the coalition, breaking the steady pattern of heartbeats for all those nearby. The world twisted as the wave detonated, wrapping and bending all it passed through. The effect, while jarring, was a display of immense power.

The kind a God might possess.

Frase Brontman shuddered in fear before a class ability rebounded and restructured her charisma. The [Matriarch] held up a hand to those who came to aid the sudden attack on the House and sent them away without explanation.

As the lightning drained away, the Lady spoke, pointing a finger. “That was certainly… something. And while I can see the history surrounding such a gift, I don’t see how you come into play.”

Clammy followed the outstretched wrinkled finger, finding it pointing at herself. She shrugged, “You’re right. Reep is the one with the relationship with God Subuntu. I only met him once.” She stood, gesturing to leave, “But I know other Gods. I have relationships with other Gods. If I’m being honest, Reep isn’t the one that has a relationship with Subuntu. Max Fowler is.”

Brontman stood as well, confusion marking her face, “The Lost Lord? Is he behind this? How dare he-“

“No.” Clammy interrupted, “Max had nothing to do with the Healers leaving. If anything, he’s the only reason they are hanging around the outlying villages. No, Eden’s [Assassins] are to blame. They nearly killed a [Head Priestess]. If it wasn’t for Max, she surely would be dead.”

“What are you trying to say?” Brontman asked with a growl.

“If you want the Healers to come back to the city, the only one of us who could even get an audience with God Subuntu would be Max. And I am the only one who is able to speak with him.”

Reep saw the lie in her teammate’s statement, but again, didn’t correct it. Showing the power of her strongest spell was questionable, but the [Archer] now saw the idea behind it.

Bluffing that Clammy was worth more than she actually was would bring plenty of unwanted attention. Some of which may even be dangerous. Showing that Reep was backed by Divine power was like a wolf baring its teeth. The threat and knowledge of power, even if it is in the form of protection, was enough to dissuade some hands.

Reep only hoped that someone they couldn’t handle wouldn’t come knocking. But then again, Bishop, Vel, and Icarus were all back in Lesterwood. That should be more than enough.

“Well. Thanks for having us.” Clammy said as the butler slave opened the door, “If you think we can help each other out, stop on by Lesterwood. My door is always open.”

Reep watched the [Matriarch] chew her bottom lip at the statement.

As they began to walk to the next noble’s house they had an appointment with, Reep spoke up, “That was a stretch. There are a lot of holes with what you just did.”

Clammy smiled serenely, “I know! That was the idea. See, I had my Diviner magic on full tilt. I don’t think I can see the future at will just yet, but I just know I would receive a vision if I messed something up enough.”

“So you gambled with your own magic?”

“No. I trusted my future self.”

“Ah.” Reep said.

“Hopefully my trust wasn’t misplaced.” Clammy said quietly.