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Sorry for the interruption, and now on with the show.

I knew I was in trouble when he sent everyone else away. Up until then, the presentation had been going just fine. I was missing PowerPoint badly, but I had decided to not replace it with illusions. As much as I wanted to, it would probably draw too much attention.

Aside from that lack, it wasn’t too different from presentations I’d done about the profitability of one corporation or another. The older, white men listening were dressed differently, but they had that same look of slightly bored attentiveness that investors tended to have. They nodded in all the right places as I extolled the benefits of my — er, the Council’s — policies. Promises of a river of gold flowing freely into the kingdom’s coffers were only slightly exaggerated, but no one called me on it.

I danced around the awkward fact that the King hadn’t authorised this lucrative trade by pretending that he had. After all the document that he had authorised sort of said that I could. Taken in the right light. So I gave him all the credit, praising the wisdom that had led to this opportunity for a very lucrative back door.

There had been questions from the people around the table. The Chancellor, the Chamberlain, the Minister for State Affairs, and even the Harbourmaster for some reason. I was pretty pleased with how well I answered them. [Memorise] brought me the relevant information right when I needed it, making up for the lack of nicely printed reports. I had copied out some of the details to hand out, of course, but [Scribe] was no replacement for a colour photocopier.

Throughout it all, the King had stayed silent, waiting until his advisors had run out of questions. Then he dismissed them with two words.

“That’s enough.”

As one, his advisors rose and bowed to their liege. I made to do the same, but a quick shake of the Chancellor’s head stopped me from making a fool of myself. I sat there as the advisors all trooped outside, the guards following them, closing the doors behind them. We were alone.

There was silence for a while. I glanced around warily, while the King’s attention was fixed on me. Finally, he spoke.

“Your taxes are too low.” The words weren’t accompanied by the weight that [Intimidation] or [Persuasion] would bring. They were just words, which encouraged me to actually respond.

“Your taxes are too high,” I snapped right back. Not exactly an original idea — try and find a banker who didn’t think that. “They don’t leave enough for the merchants to grow their business.”

“And why should I care about that?”

“If a merchant’s making one hundred gold profit, and you take half of that,” I said, “he’ll not ever make more than that. If you take a tenth, then in ten years time he’ll be making one thousand gold, and your tenth will be twice what you’d earn the other way.”

“And if he chooses to spend his money on luxuries instead of his business?”

I shrugged. “Then he’ll lose his business to someone that isn’t as foolish.”

“A curious notion. Where did you come across it?”

“Listen to any merchant, he’ll tell you his taxes are too high. Listen a little longer, and he’ll tell you what he could do if he didn’t have that burden.”

“And would they say that about your taxes?”

“Probably,” I admitted. “No one likes taxes after all. There’s a balance to be had between the growth of commerce and the needs of the state, and merchants can only see one side. That doesn’t mean their side is wrong, though.”

“Hmm.” The King considered me for a long moment. “And is this what you have come here for, Kandis Hammond? Have you come to educate us on tax policy?”

“I came here because you summoned me, your Majesty,” I said, remembering my manners. It seemed that medieval etiquette was somehow incompatible with lessons in basic economics.

“Not to this city, to this world. For you are a [World Walker], are you not, Councillor?”

Ah, shit. I sort of froze while I considered the possibility that I might deny it. It wasn’t like he could prove it or anything. There were priests that could [Identify] me, and there were others that could see through illusions, but he’d have a hard time getting them to cooperate. I was part of the gods’ game after all.

On the other hand, was there any use in denying it? I probably wasn’t going to be able to convince him otherwise, especially since he wouldn’t have accused me without some evidence.

“Is that going to be a problem?” I asked cautiously. There was always the go invisible and run option, though I guessed that it wouldn’t be as easy as that.

“That depends,” he said gravely. “Which God has chosen you, and what is your mission in my country?”

Ah.

“I’m afraid I don’t know the answer to either of those questions, your Majesty,” I said. “While I’ve spoken to some gods, they’ve all been ones that couldn’t be my Patron.”

The King frowned at my first sentence, and it grew deeper as I continued. I could feel his [Intimidation] gathering, like a boiling storm cloud ready to strike me with lightning.

“Is. That. True.” His words weren’t spoken loudly, but they had all the force of his skill behind them.

“Yes.” The word came easily. I would have had a hard time if I’d wanted to lie.

“Which Gods?” he asked. The [Intimidation] was ramped down, but only by a bit.

“A few words from Naldyna, some conversations with Fyskal. And…” I hesitated. If there were going to be problems, it would probably be with this one. “… recently, a conversation with Ashmor.”

“Recently? In my city?”

“Yeah. I mean, yes, your Majesty”

“Phadan’s mercy,” he muttered. “You’re sure he isn’t your Patron?”

I made a helpless gesture. “I only know what I’ve been told, and that was that neither Fyskal nor Ashmor participates in this game. Fyskal said that he was the referee.”

“The Deceiver sitting in judgement. It takes a god to be that foolish. What did Ashmor want?”

“He had some plan for me to destroy the world for a chance of a ride home,” I said. “I don’t know why he thought that would be an attractive offer.”

“Why, indeed.” The King looked me over very carefully. If he noticed anything, he kept it to himself.

“So,” He finally said. “Your actions in this kingdom have been your own, and not at the behest of any god.”

“It was implied,” I said, “that I had been carefully selected as one who would naturally take the actions that helped my Patron’s agenda. And that actually communicating those goals would make me less likely to act that way.”

“This was Fyskal, I presume.” When I nodded, he sighed. “I’d advise ignoring everything that he told you. His lies are insidious. Trying to identify them is a fool's errand.”

“I’m… not really in a position to do that,” I said. He nodded sadly.

“Then let us move on to other things. You stole the dungeon core from Oakway.”

“What makes you say that?” His [Intimidation] had faded by now, so I was able to dissemble somewhat. I didn’t hold out much hope of that continuing, though.

He chuckled. “There are not so many sources of chaos in my realm that I can’t put the dots together. You were the starting adventurer, Katherine, in disguise. No one else had the motive or means to steal the core, except perhaps Reynard, and he has been cleared of that particular crime. So it was you. Why?”

“It spoiled Reynard’s plans,” I admitted. “I had heard something about using it to become more powerful, but I still don’t know exactly how. Are you… going to want it back?”

“No,” he said, waving his hand dismissively. “If cores were scarce, we could just make more the same way you did. What is scarce is places where they can be used.”

He looked at me speculatively. “I suppose… that of all the things a [World Waker] could do, becoming a Dungeon Master would be among the least disruptive. If you can find an unclaimed font of mana, then, by all means, claim it for your core.”

“Is that really the case though?” I asked doubtfully. “Agden Shadthe is a Dungeon master, right? He sounds pretty disruptive.”

He laughed. “Shadthe, for all his efforts, has yet to topple a Kingdom — though he has come close, I’ll admit. Your predecessors shattered an Empire.”

“Right now, all I want to do is generate wealth and prosperity by applying some decent social and economic policies.”

“Indeed? Well—” The King stopped speaking and swivelled his head to look at the door. I had also heard the click, so I turned to see… a head.

Poking around the slightly opened door, parallel to the floor, the head of Vodurn was winking at me.

“My Lord! I was sent to see if you’d fallen asleep, or perhaps fallen into a bed.”

Once again, the words came through as slightly odd, but not as amusing as the King seemed to find them. It sounded like the man had made a dirty joke at my expense, so I elected to frown.

“Did they?” was all the King said.

“Indeed, sire. Your councillors are restive, your honoured guests are becoming pensive and your humble servants are running out of wine to distract them with.”

“We’ll have to continue this later then,” the King said.

“Your Majesty, I’d hoped to gain your approval so that I could get back to Talnier… it’s in a critical period right now.”

“Well, it will have to wait. The Champion of Life will be in town in a few weeks, I understand you have some differences to resolve.”

He sent a cold smile my way. “If you two are going to fight, I’d rather it happen under my supervision.”

Then he strode out of the chamber without another word. Vodurn quickly opened the door fully, getting out of the way so that he could bow to the King as he passed by. Then he looked up at me.

“We meet again, fair lady!”

I was still swearing to myself at the King’s cavalier treatment of me, but I tried to put on a gracious face.

“Yes, I suppose we do.”

“Permit me to escort you back to your apartment. This is a sensitive area, and it wouldn’t do for you to be summarily expelled.”

I was fairly sure that some of the guards had remained behind for that exact purpose, but it couldn’t hurt to have an escort of a higher rank.

“I suppose being accompanied by a Fool is what I deserve right now,” I said wryly. I joined him at the door and we started making our way back. The pair of guards that had escorted me here, I noticed, had stayed behind, but now showed no signs of wanting to follow me.

“Did your meeting not go well?” he asked solicitously.

“It didn’t go badly, but I didn’t get what I wanted. Now I’m stuck here until the King can find time for me again.”

“Ah, forced to live in the lap of luxury, how terrible,” Vodurn teased.

“I have things to do back in Talnier!” I insisted. “Plans that can help people, that I can’t do here!”

“Can’t you?” he asked. “Is there no use for your skills in this city?”

I gave him a look, but he just smiled innocently. “Were you—” listening, I wanted to say, but he wasn’t going to admit to eavesdropping on the King.

“I’m sure you’ll find something productive to do with your time here,” he said brightly. “And didn’t you mention something about wanting to meet with Duke Finley?”

“Something like that,” I said sourly.

“Perhaps this might be of use?” He handed me a slip of paper with a flourish — using some sort of sleight of hand to make it appear out of nowhere.

“What’s this?” I asked suspiciously but the question was answered by the object itself. Ornately hand-painted, it appeared to be an open invitation to the holder and one guest to attend for one night at the “Choice of the Chosen”.

“It’s a… club you might say. A place for quiet, if not entirely discreet meetings. A neutral ground.”

“How did you get this?” I wondered.

“Oh, people are always seeking my favour,” he said. “Ear of the King and all that. I’ve a stack of them.”

“If this is another underground fighting ring…” I warned him.

“Oh no, no, this is a genteel establishment for civilised people,” he said. “An underground fighting ring? Wherever did you find such a thing?”

He shook his head in disbelief. “You must have been naughty and slipped your escort to attend such a place. Rest assured, you need have no concerns about taking your escort here.”

He leaned forward conspiratorially. “And as it happens, I have it on very good authority that Duke Finley will be attending this club two nights hence.”