“No indeed, this should not take long,” the Duke said, looking at me over his meal. “Rodakis has convinced himself that he would be better served if you were in his bed, rather than a grave. Just looking at you, I can see why he lost his head, but I do have to entertain the possibility that he might be right.”

His [Intimidate] was stronger than mine, and he had it on full blast. Fortunately, you didn’t need to defend against [Intimidation] with the same [Skill]. You didn’t even need to know what [Skill] to use — the most appropriate one would just jump in.

I hadn’t realised what [Skills] I was using in the early days, but I was getting better at recognising them now, so I knew it was [Conversation] that was taking the fore.

“How crude,” I said disdainfully. “I expected better from a Duke.”

Finley frowned to see me unperturbed by his verbal offensive. We weren’t in a Social Contest — at least, not yet. The Duke was just lashing out, and I didn’t want to start anything. While I might be able to beat him, after the twenty-four hours were up he could just send assassins after me. Again.

“If that’s true, then you have much to learn about your betters,” he sneered. “So, then, convince me that I am better off with you as the dutiful wife of my new Baron.”

“Do you need to go that far, my Lord?” I asked, [Charm] inserting the honorific when I forgot. “A free Talnier would be neutral in whatever conflict you are planning with Bargougne.”

Finley’s eyes narrowed in anger. “Watch your tongue, girl. Victor is a peer, when you leave off his title, you disrespect me.” His [Intimidate] flared again, but a threat once ignored is just empty after that.

“My apologies: Lord Bargougne,” I said flatly.

He relaxed slightly. “As to the question, obviously a Talnier working for me is better than one that is neutral.”

“But the cost of subduing a town, my Lord,” I protested. “Even ignoring casualties, the King’s troops will leave, you will need men to defend against the Beast-King and Lord Duvost trying to take the town back. Not to mention suppressing resistance within the town.”

“Which is the only reason I’m entertaining this mad idea that you can deliver the town to me.”

“I’d rather convince you to leave us alone entirely.” [Persuasion] was itching to be let off the lead, but I held back. Against greed like this, I could only give the town a temporary respite before he’d be back.

“Forget about that possibility,” he said. “I will have Talnier, by blood if necessary, by marriage if it’s possible. Convince me that it is.”

This isn’t going to work.

“No,” I said.

“No?” he asked. “No.” He repeated the word, a look on his face like he was tasting how it sounded. I supposed that he didn’t hear it often.

“No,” I repeated. I’d been sounding him out over the course of our conversation, looking for the possibility that we could come to some sort of accord. But there was no give in him, nothing to be negotiated over. He’d take what he wanted, and what he wanted was everything.

“I’m not going to be your vassal, and Talnier is going to remain free, under the King’s approved charter.”

“Your bravado does you credit,” he sneered, “But you are making a mistake.”

“I don’t think so,” I said. “The mistake would be to associate with you at all.”

“Then—” he started, but was interrupted by Manuela’s applause. She looked entirely unapologetic when he glared at her.

“Then, I don’t think you have any more to say to me,” he said. “Get out.”

“Well that was fun,” Manuela said when we were back in the carriage. “Do you think that’s why the King sent you there?”

“I’m fuzzy on what he was trying to accomplish,” I admitted. “I don’t see how it could have gone any other way.”

“Didn’t you want to string him along for longer?”

“I did… but I’ve seen enough to know that that wouldn’t work. He insists on commitment from those that he deals with.” I neglected to mention that part of this was based on my observations of him dealing with the Lyran ambassador. “He’d have insisted on me signing some kind of marriage vow before I left the room.”

“The King must know what he’s like though,” I mused. “And he knows I’m not going to give up Talnier. I doubt he wants me to. So why?”

“Hmm. It seemed like the good Duke didn’t know you were Chosen, didn’t it?”

“I suppose.”

Manuela switched seats, joining my side of the carriage. She grabbed my arm and pulled me close in an overly-familiar embrace. “Let me give you a bit of insight into Chosen from the other side,” she whispered conspiratorially. She was close enough that I could smell her floral perfume.

“Once you’ve grown out of your ever-so adorable baby phase,” she murmured, “Once you’re no longer so easy to kill or manipulate, you make for very tough opponents.”

“Do we,” I said, unamused by her antics. I had thought we’d gotten past this the other night.

“Oh yes. You’re backed by a god, remember? Even if their influence is subtle, it can be nigh-irresistible. No one wants to go against one, unless they’re backed by another Chosen.”

“That makes sense,” I admitted.

“So one easy thing you can do,” she continued, “is to send your enemies after them.”

“Wait, you think the King sicced his Duke on me?”

“Finley was already after you,” Manuela shrugged. “The King just cleared the way.”

“You think the King wants me to kill one of his own dukes,” I said.

“I doubt he’d be upset if it went the other way,” she said slyly. “He can’t be pleased with all these Champions messing up the landscape.

“He killed my father!” Aubey yelled. “You were there!”

“You’re making a scene, Lord Aubert,” I said with an icy glare. “Control yourself before you get thrown out.”

Against Aubey, even my relatively puny [Intimidate] was more than enough. Aubert froze and went pale. Reaching for a seat opposite me, he collapsed into it. I really should use [Intimidate] more, but there were reasons why I didn’t.

He should have known better though, on many counts. [Intimidate] required a valid threat to work. Most adventurers could just use their physical presence, and the promise of violence, to be taken seriously. Myself, not so much. Having him thrown out though, was a credible threat. Not of physical harm, but of embarrassment, which might be worse.

By yelling at me in the palace dining hall, he’d opened himself up to being shut down. Maybe he thought, having gained a level, that he didn’t have to worry about my Charisma anymore, but as I said, he should have known better.

I kept the pressure on as I finished my meal, managing to succeed at what Duke Finley had tried on me. Aubey kept quiet throughout — he didn’t have any choice.

“I’m aware of what he did to your father,” I said coldly. “Just as I’m aware of his plans for Talnier.” And so much more, I added in my head.

“I asked for you to call on me at my chambers,” I continued. “Is the notion of subtly completely foreign to you?”

He struggled to answer, but I had not yet released him.

“Yes, it is,” I answered for him. “And so you came to see me here, in a public place and yelled at me. Forcing me to give you this very public humiliation, where everyone, especially Finley’s spies, can see.”

I was looking, but a lot of people were trying to surreptitiously catch the show. It was anyone’s guess which of them would be reporting to the Duke, but it was a safe bet that a lot of them would be reporting to someone. I increased the volume of my voice a bit.

“And so we find ourselves giving this performance to half the court. Are you enjoying it? Because I am. Humiliating the pariah would-be count will do great things for my social standing. I wouldn’t be surprised if I got a marriage proposal.”

Another marriage proposal, that is. I was up to six now, or at least I’d been assured that the flowery letters that asked for a private meeting “to discuss a possible future” were that. They had all come from lesser nobles of the court — hangers-on without titles or land for themselves. Tying themselves to a Councillor from a border town would be a step downward for them, so I had to assume they were either desperate or just lost to my feminine charms.

“Well, that’s about enough,” I said, looking over our audience. “You can go now.” I released the pressure. Freed to talk, it looked like he wanted to speak, but something stopped him. Struggling to control his face, he turned and strode from the room.

“I honestly didn’t think you’d show up,” I said in a low voice. We were in the gardens at night. Not a popular viewing time, but not bad for clandestine meetings.

“Is that… you?” Aubert asked.

“I said I’d be disguised in the note, didn’t I?” The man I was disguised as smirked.

“I felt it appear in my pocket,” Aubert said wonderingly. “You’ve gotten better.”

I dissolved the Phantasmal Object with a thought. He started as it disappeared in his hand, then brushed off his hand like it was covered in imaginary ash.

“By all means, try some flattery,” I said. “You came to see me for a reason, though. Enemy of my enemy, I assume?”

He sighed despondently. “I didn’t want to come to you,” he said. “But nothing else has… the King won’t see me, and I know that he’ll see you again. If you could—”

“The King won’t see you, because he knows you plan on causing trouble for one of his dukes,” I interrupted. “Hearing it from me isn’t going to change that.”

“But my father!”

“You’re the only one here that cares about that,” I told him bluntly.

“Surely you at least…” he tried.

“I didn’t want him dead, I would like to see his killer brought to justice,” I admitted. “But the man forced me into babysitting you! How do you think I feel about him?”

“You seemed to enjoy bullying me well enough.”

“Well, when life gives you lemons, make lemonade,” I said. “That part was pretty fun, I’ll admit. But it was taking my anger with him, out on you. At least partly,” I added recalling that I had had plenty of reasons to be mad at Aubert directly.

“So for that part of it, I apologise.”

“I shouldn’t have exiled you,” Aubert admitted. “I’m sorry for that.”

“Are you going to take it back?”

“Are you going to help me?”

I smiled. “Maybe. If you had your status confirmed, could you bring an accusation of treason against Finley? Legally, I mean.”

Aubert looked at me warily. “As long as Duke Bargougne didn’t object, I could. I’d need credible evidence to make it stick though.”

“What sort of evidence would be credible?” I asked. I knew better than to assume it would be the same as in my world.

“Something that I’d seen or heard… documents that I knew came from his properties.”

“So not testimony from someone else,” I said.

“Not a commoner, no,” he agreed unable to see the sour face I was making. “Perhaps if it was someone he was actually conspiring with, but I would need to bring him in to testify himself.”

“That makes it hard,” I mused.

“Well, it should be hard to accuse a noble,” he said, without a shred of self-awareness. “We need to occupy ourselves with the loftier concerns of rulership, and not allow ourselves to get bogged down with defending ourselves against petty accusations.”

I raised an eyebrow, not that he could see it. “Like patricide?” I wondered.

“That’s different,” he said, suddenly sullen.

“Well. Here’s my plan. Duke Finley is currently committing treason against the King. We’re going to get some evidence in front of you, and you are going to accuse him and get him arrested for it.”

“But… I’d need to be confirmed in my position to do that.”

“Yeah,” I said awkwardly. “See, there’s always been an easy way for you to get confirmed, you just haven’t been able to see it.”

“I certainly don’t see how that’s possible,” he said doubtfully.

I shrugged. I doubted he was going to like this. “All you have to do… is swear to the Chancellor that you’re giving up on your accusations about your father’s death.”