Fleshcrafting Technomancer 55 We Need To Talk

The cluttered sound of rushed footsteps came from behind the office door, and without announcing herself, Carmen, barged in. Seeing her mother perusing her reports in the same relaxed manner as always, Carmen squinted her eyes at her.

"Mother, what are you doing?" The confused princess asked. Like thousands of other students, Carmen witnessed Kilian's Blood Seraph. But unlike the rest, knew who the academy owed it to.

Less than 24 hours after she warned Kilian about Ernst's designs on Lena, the heir to Ruhkfort lay hanged in the dining hall. It didn't take a genius to put two and two together.

At first, Carmen doubted her reasoning. After all, the level of strength required to accomplish this feat was far beyond High Emissary territory. Throughout the academy, the purple-gold students and department chairs aside, who could? But no matter how she twisted the story, timing and the eccentric glint she saw in Kilian's eyes convinced her that Ernst's death revolved around him.

The savagery of the killing, the disappearance of dozens of students, the malfunction of all recording technology, and her perception of Kilian's abilities convinced Carmen that she couldn't survive spilling the beans.

How strong was he truly?

Throughout the academy, how many could oppose him, if any?

Allies, goals, network, and more importantly, why did he spare her?

No, perhaps even now Kilian monitored her—restrained by some twisted sense of grat.i.tude—but ready to eliminate her at the first misstep. She couldn't risk it.

But that...only was one issue.

Esther's eyes rose from her report to lock on her daughter. A woman of remarkable grace and extraordinary beauty, just like Carmen, Esther possessed the silver eyes of the eldar. But unlike her daughter's, the queen's l.u.s.trous silver hair didn't hide any black curls.

With small pointy ears and luscious, full lips glazed with purple lipstick, she tied her long, curly hair with a simple knot, making her ponytail hang above her rear while two long strands fell over her shoulders.

"Discourtesy does not befit the future Queen of Orloth. In all things you do, in all situations—regardless of how dire—you must remain graceful." Esther lowered her report, and arched her head back, unintentionally forcing her ma.s.sive b.r.e.a.s.t.s to poke through her oversized white coat. Her words brought Carmen no comfort. Striding toward her Esther, Carmen banged her balled fists against the office table and intently stared at her mother's almond-shaped eyes.

"First, I still have an elder brother. The only one of five you've yet to kill. Before that, I'm afraid I can't shoulder the t.i.tle of future queen. Second, this is no time to be graceful. For the love of all that is sacred, our lives are on the line!" Carmen snarled at Esther's face.

Indeed, for nearly two decades, Esther set on a mission to ensure her daughter would become Orloth's next ruler, and through subtle schemes, disposed of four of her husband's five sons. Murder through rival houses, indirect framing, magical corruption form dark magic, Esther's elaborate means ensured that King Erik could not retrace it to her. But while on the outside, it all seemed to serve Carmen's interests, the princess knew that hatred alone drove her mother's deeds.

"First, your elder brother is about to get executed for sleeping with your father's favorite mistress. At the same time, the Duke of Ursten will offer his second son for a matrilineal marriage. Congratulations, daughter," Esther replied, undisturbed by Carmen's impertinence.

Startled, Carmen recoiled, unable to believe that from the comfort of the Imperial Academy, her mother not only managed to end her last sibling, but secured a matrilineal marriage with a duke. In the rare cases that a n.o.blewoman became the sole direct heir to her house's t.i.tles, matrilineal marriages were the norm. However, the high n.o.bility seldom consented to such marriages.

But as Carmen pondered on her mother's means, the queen continued, "Second, you have nothing to fear. When 50 years ago the emperor exterminated the eldars, the scant few survivors degenerated into slaves for the imperial n.o.bility. My mother was one such case. Therefore, they gave me the 'zu' instead of the 'von.'

I may be Rupert's daughter, but legally, we're not direct descendants of house Ruhkfort. Highborn slaves are still slaves, and slaves are not punishable for their masters' crimes. When Rupert falls, some will use this one law to preserve us both." In Esther's tone, Carmen couldn't detect the tiniest bit of anxiety regarding Rupert's fate. Worse, she almost seemed to look forward to her father's demise.

Knowing that her mother never spoke words she didn't have 100% confidence in, Carmen lowered her head and stepped back.

"Mother, if you want to make me your puppet queen, there is nothing I can do about it. But as long as Klaus breathes, the t.i.tle of King of Orloth is a joke. But perhaps that doesn't matter to you. Perhaps you're satisfied to know that you've ruined whatever remained of house von Draken?"

Carmen sneered, turned heels and walked out. At the end of the day, only those trusted by the emperor or elder council could occupy a department chair position within the Imperial Academy. Since Rupert's rebellion would have no impact on them, Carmen could focus on surviving the monster known as Kilian.

…

Within Kilian's suite, Lena sat crossed-legged in her room. Hands resting on either side of her thighs, through a succession of long, deep breaths, Lena manipulated her fehl dra to condense her first Elemental Crystal. In silence, Jezebel observed her. Since her return from Ernst's encounter, Lena focused on crystal condensation, no longer paying heed to what occurred on the outside.

And while unlike Kilian, she only had five Unlocked Roots, her Fehl Beast instincts, Jezebel's guidance, and her own brain allowed her to smoothly cross the barriers keeping her from the first Fehl Crystal.

But if Lena's focus prevented her from sensing the outer chaos, unlike her, Jezebel didn't miss any of the commotion. Better, because of her bond to Kilian, she experienced all he felt during his confrontation with Ernst. Even without seeing it, she could imagine the former student's fate.

At first, Jezebel pondered how she could help Kilian regain control, but then sensed the changes in his psyche, and knew he needed no further help. Now instead, she focused on the situation's changes and Lena's progress. Seeing the first crystal starting to take shape, Jezebel nodded, adopted her male disguise, and left the suite.

From browns to white-gold, terror-stricken students raced across the halls with their eyes darting left and right, and sweat showering their faces. The ease with which humans surrendered to fright never failed to surprise Jezebel. When faced with irresistible crises and helplessness, not many could keep their back straight. But those who could often were problematic.

Closing her eyes, Jezebel swept the academy with her fehl senses, seeking among the non-purple-gold students those that still managed to keep their cool.

Out of the academy's thousands of students, not many fit the bill. Three, however, s.n.a.t.c.hed her attention.

Anke von Karsten, who just took a glance at the Blood Seraph, then carried on with her day.

And a pair of von Skoll youths that observed the macabre work with scrutiny. But while the female's lips curled into a smile, the male remained impa.s.sive.

"Alan and Irma von Skoll. Interesting pair. I wonder who put them here," Jezebel asked herself, and her eyes opened, landing on Ayden who now stood in her path.

"Hi there, we need to talk," said Ayden with a mild smile.