“Another one,” the Chairman sighed from behind his desk, scratching his head. “Tell me this is the last.”
“This is the last one.”
“Thank—”
“Of this list,” she continued, putting the burden down.
He froze. “What? What are all of those?” he asked, pointing at the piles.
“Our internal audit,” Ana replied calmly. “A very deep dive into the past, achievements, and prospects of all our members. This pile is for regional field operatives. This big one is for inquisitors. I split it in half, local here and regional there. This smaller one is for administrative staff. Lucky you, that one’s thin. There is also a locker worthy stack of documents related to prospective clients and recruits, administrative and field alike, waiting on my desk. I would have brought them too, but you ran out of space, so that will be tomorrow.”
He hummed, staring at the mess. “Having so few people in administration is a flaw. Just look at how buried I am.”
That remark made Ana fume, though she kept it buried. “You will be fine, Chairman. I handled all of this on my own. I am sure you will manage better than I did.”
He frowned. “Are you taking revenge on me? Is this because I assigned you this task, and now you are dumping everything on me at once?”
“You know me,” Ana replied flatly. “I am not the type to take revenge. If I were, one of us would already be dead.” She drew a finger across her throat. “Not that there is anything to take revenge for. This is simply work that has been waiting for you while you were gone. It piled up while you were out doing what, exactly?”
“Hey, do not make it sound like I was wasting my time,” he protested. “I was doing my duty as Chairman.”
“Right,” she said. “And this is also one of your duties. So enjoy your night. The outer pile needs you tomorrow. Anyway, I am done for today.”
“What? Where are you going?”
“Home, Director. It is well past my work hours.” She waved at him from the doorway and shut the door behind her, ignoring his calls for help.
She had had enough of documents. She did not feel even remotely inclined to help further, not even for extra pay. Extra extra pay might have convinced her, but she doubted that would happen today. He was still too fresh, which was proven by the fact that he did not chase after her. Tomorrow, maybe, he will make the offer. That was the plan.
Ana stretched as she walked, exhaustion settling deep into her bones. She realized how truly exhausted she was. Drafting and redacting these files had made this the worst month of her career in the Inquisitorum Regiae administration. Not the worst of her life, considering everything she had lived through, but close enough.
The Leirden office had been in constant turmoil for the past five weeks, and it was likely the same across the continent. The reason was simple. The Inquisitorum Regiae was undergoing an unprecedented restructuring. It was transitioning into what would become the Assassin Guild, an organization heavily inspired by the success of the Adventurer Guild.
Missions would be posted on boards. Members would choose their work. Contracts would no longer be limited to those issued by high ranking noble families of the Land of Men. The organization was opening itself to a far broader clientele, namely anyone wealthy enough to afford their services.
They wanted to be less obscure. Ideally, they would have copied the Adventurer Guild wholesale. Unfortunately, killing another human being was still deeply frowned upon. Building an organization entirely around that service was inherently problematic. Even with powerful backing, public hostility was inevitable, especially from the institution known as the Faith, which had long been the Inquisitorum Regiae’s most vocal enemy and had a habit of interfering with their operations.
So full transparency was impossible. They could never truly go public. Still, they did not need to. What they needed was just a much wider customer base than before. Anyone with enough money would do.
Ana had spent the last three days compiling exactly that. A list of all wealthy individuals in the region. Not just nobles, but commoners as well, especially merchants.
“My back,” she groaned as she reached the door leading to her secretary desk in the Wardenpost Guild. She climbed the stairs and stopped by the director’s office, finding him still seated at his desk.
“Hey,” she said.
“Hey, Anette. You are still here?”
“Yep. Busy day. Like yesterday. And the day before that. And the one before that too.”
“Hang in there,” he said gently.
“I do not really have a choice,” she replied. Debt had a way of removing options.
He gave her a sympathetic look.
“I am clocking out now.”
“Alright. Good night.”
“Goodni—actually,” she paused. “Did we receive any special letters today?”
Requests for the Inquisitorum Regiae usually came that way. Letters from nobles, addressed to the director of the local Wardenpost Guild, sealed with distinctive wax and stamps. That was why they were called special letters.
“Not today,” he replied.
“I see. Then there is none addressed to me?”
He frowned. “Are you expecting a letter from a noble? This is not the first time you have asked. It has been like this since your return.”
“No, it’s…”
“I always assumed it was on behalf of the Inquisitorum, but I am starting to think this is more personal. Did you find yourself a noble suitor, and now you are waiting for a letter?”
“No, no,” she denied quickly, then lied without pause. “It is for the Inquisitorum. I requested an audit from a noble some time ago and…”
“Oh.” He did not look fully convinced, but he dropped the subject.
“I am heading out. It is late, and I still have to cook. Good night.”
“Alright. Good night again.”
The guild’s office was already empty. Mirriam the receptionist was gone, as were most of the clerks. The few who remained were wrapping things up for the day. That was expected. By the time Ana left the building, it was well into the night. Two of the three moons hung high in the sky, bathing the streets in vibrant light.
She glanced down at the basket in her hand. Dinner. As she did every morning before work, she had stopped by the market to buy ingredients for the evening. She sighed at the thought of cooking, but at least she would get to enjoy the result before collapsing into bed.
Twenty minutes later, Ana stood in front of her house. And immediately noticed that something was wrong.
The lights were on.
“Did I forget to turn them off?” she muttered, then immediately remembered that she had not. Her frown deepened. “Did someone break into my home?”
She lived in the upper middle district of Leirden. Not noble territory, but comfortable. Merchants, retired adventurers, quiet streets. Crime was nearly nonexistent.
Breaking into my home. Who dares?
She walked up to the door, removed her gloves, and stepped inside.
There were sounds coming from within.
She set the basket down and reached for the projectile daggers she had carried ever since a certain incident. Soft footsteps approached from the kitchen. The figure appeared, and Ana froze, her arm halfway raised.
“You… ”
“Oh, you are finally home,” the intruder said casually. “I was waiting for you.”
“Lord Lucas?”
Though she called him that, the man did not wear the face he had shown when he introduced himself as Lord Lucas. He bore the same appearance he had that day, when he accompanied that elf, and he stood there as though he belonged, as though his presence required no explanation.
He looked different than Lord Lucas but there was no mistaking him. This was the noble who had led her through one of the most traumatizing experiences of her life. One that had left scars she doubted would ever truly fade.
“What are you doing here?”
“Oh, me? I was in the city and wanted to see you. But it was still working hours, so I decided to wait here.”
That was it. That was his explanation.
Seeing her silence, he continued, “I got a little bored while waiting, so I went to the market and started cooking dinner. I figured you would come home late. I hope you do not mind.”
He disappeared back into the kitchen.
“I… it is fine,” Ana said, though the words felt hollow.
She picked up her basket and followed him. He stood over the stove, stirring a pot, steam fogging his glasses.
“I will help,” she offered.
“It is alright. I am almost done.”
“But I have nothing else to do.”
He raised an eyebrow and looked her up and down. “Are you not going to change into something more comfortable?”
She hesitated, then went upstairs. She changed as she always did after work and returned a few minutes later. By then, he was arranging the table.
“Please,” he said, pulling out a chair for her.
After a brief pause, she sat. He returned from the kitchen carrying the food.
It was elaborate. Far more than she expected.
“You cooked all of this?” she asked.
“I did,” he said with a smile. “I might not look the part, but I am a competent cook.”
“You sure are very talented,” she replied, unsure how else to phrase it.
This tale has been unlawfully lifted from Royal Road. If you spot it on Amazon, please report it.
“One of many talents,” he said, then vanished again, returning with a bottle of wine. “I fermented this myself one hundred and thirty four years ago. It was for a special occasion.”
“A special occasion…”
“Do you have a corkscrew?”
“Yes. I will open it.”
“It is fine. Please sit,” he said lightly. “I already broke into your home. I can handle this.”
He uncorked the bottle with ease and poured the wine before taking a seat across from her.
“Please,” he said, gesturing to the meal. “Bon appétit.”
“Bon appétit.”
Ana stared at the food. It smelled wonderful. Everything about it was inviting. Yet her mind kept drifting back to the last time she had seen him, reminding her of the terror she felt back then.
“You do not need to worry,” he said calmly as he picked up his cutlery. “I would not ruin good food with poison. And if I wanted you dead, poison would not be my method.”
She watched him take the first bite.
“Makes sense,” she said, following his lead.
They ate in silence for a short while before he spoke, the way any cook would. “How is it?”
“It’s good. As good as it looks.”
“You flatter me.”
“Not at all. I mean it.”
He laughed it off, then asked, “Do you usually come home this late?”
“Normally I would be home much earlier, but lately it has been very busy at the office.”
“Oh. I suppose I should apologize for that,” he said, giving a small bow.
She understood immediately what he meant. The recent chaos at the Inquisitorum Regiae was directly tied to him. More precisely, it was tied to the approval and funding he had granted. With his interference, the organization had been allowed to restructure and expand.
“It’s fine,” Ana said. “We have been hoping for a change like this for a long time. It is hectic now, but better days are ahead.”
“Still, it must feel abrupt.”
“It does, but we are managing. The Chairman raised our pay to compensate.”
“I guess extra work is much easier to accept when it is properly rewarded.”
“Especially for someone like me.”
“Are you struggling financially, Miss Anette?”
“Not like most people,” she replied. “But I am in debt.”
“I see. Now that you mention it, I heard you purchased a house in the Holy Capital. For your brother.”
Of course he knew. Ana winced slightly and nodded.
“Yes. It is in a residential district. I got it for a good price, but it was still expensive.”
“So you took a loan.”
“I did. From L & L Banking Company,” she said, grimacing. “It came at a ridiculous interest rate but I do not regret it.”
“I can imagine.”
In truth, buying a house in that place had never been part of her plans. She had considered purchasing a place in the capital for Henri, having learned that most of his fellow scholars at the Aethernum lived in rented housing provided by their parents rather than in the temple like the average highbreed bastard. But Henri needed a cover, an identity to maintain, one of a familyless highbreed raised by the temple, and so it had never been a priority.
If she were to buy a second property at all, it would not have been there. What she had always wanted was a secluded mansion, far from everything, a place where she could grow and be old in peace. But sacrifices had their order. Charmy and Uta deserved a clean slate, far away from the Holy Capital and everything tied to it. If this was the price to pay, then so be it.
Thinking of them led her thoughts to the last girl who had shared that nightmare with.
“Lord Lu—” she began, then stopped. “I just realized something. Should I keep calling you Lord Lucas, or should I use your true title and name. King Dorian?”
He chuckled softly. “I would rather you call me Lucas. Or just Dorian.”
“I am not familiar enough with you to do that.”
“We are familiar enough to share dinner.”
She understood it was meant lightly, but her laugh was forced. He noticed. For a few seconds, he studied her in silence.
“You are wondering why I came here,” he said.
“I am,” she admitted. There was no point denying it.
“Then let us talk about it instead of letting you worry,” he said, taking a sip of wine. “It is simple. After everything that happened, you must have questions. I am here to answer them. So go ahead.”
Ana did not hesitate. There was one question that had been weighing on her ever since.
“Lydia. What happened to her?”
After the incident at the facility, the four of them had been kept under his supervision for a time. Later, Ana had fulfilled her end of the bargain. She had erased Uta and Charmy’s memories of the abduction and everything tied to it. She had arranged for them to be sent far away. So she knew they were safe.
Lydia, however, had vanished from her life entirely.
“She is fine,” he said. “She was returned to her family. To where she belongs.”
“Really?” Ana asked, needing to hear it again.
It was exactly what he had promised back then. Yet she had not witnessed it herself. Even as she asked, she realized the truth of the matter. If it were a lie, there was nothing she could do about it.
Still, she searched his face, hoping for certainty.
“Yes, really. Her family missed her. A lot,” he said. “They were overjoyed to have her back, especially her older sister. Did you know she had one?”
Ana shook her head. “We never had the time to talk about things like that,” she admitted. “I only realized what she was once we were locked away.”
“I see,” he nodded. “In any case, you can rest assured. She will be safe. You may visit her village if you wish.”
“It’s alright,” Ana replied, careful not to sound dismissive.
“Besides,” she added quietly, “what would be the point? She wouldn’t remember me anyway, would she?”
The grimace on his face answered for him.
“Sorry,” he said.
“No,” Ana replied. “This is for the best.”
She turned her attention back to her meal.
“Any other questions?” he asked.
She hesitated, then shook her head.
“No need to hold back,” he said calmly. “If something is beyond what you should know, I simply will not answer. I will not take offense. I am the one who offered.”
After a moment, she spoke. “Then why did you allow the revival of the Inquisitorum Regiae? Why now?”
“Why now,” he repeated, thoughtful. “After abandoning it for decades?”
Ana nodded.
“Hm. I cannot explain it properly without going through history first,” he said. “Otherwise the answer would simply be that the timing was perfect. I hope you do not mind a little history lesson.”
She nodded again.
“Very well,” he continued. “At the end of the One and Only Era, Arianna defeated Emperor Cleon. Out of the original seven kings, only two survived. The rest were executed, their families prosecuted. I led that prosecution, with the help of the newly founded Inquisitorum Regiae.”
Ana was familiar with that part of history.
“What I’d like you to notice is the agreement that existed at the time between the most powerful figures on the continent. The three Seraphims, and the three kings. Queen Arianna, King Lance, and myself. What kind of deal do you think that was?”
Ana paused. She knew history well, but she also knew there were truths beyond her reach. “I do not know,” she admitted.
“In the One and Only Era,” he said, “the ruling of the Land of Men was divided between the three Seraphims, the angelic monarchs, and Cleon, the sole human monarch. His death at Arianna’s hands was desired by every party involved, except Cleon himself. Before he was killed, Queen Arianna signed a pact. One that Cleon had refused for nearly a thousand years.”
He watched her carefully. “It's a pact that allows for the birth of new human monarchs. Not one, but several. Do you know what a monarch truly is, Miss Anette?”
She hesitated.
“I know it is a title, like Oathbound is a title,” she said slowly. “That it requires immortality and reaching a triple digit level for its acquisition.”
Having only reached level nine herself, she knew how steep that climb was. Triple digit levels were not something a normal lifespan could sustain. Without longevity skills, it was impossible. She had accepted that long ago, which was why she had chosen clerical work instead of chasing levels. Wealth was more realistic than strength. Sixty or seventy years of work for a peaceful end in a quiet mansion seemed like a fair trade.
She regretted that thought once, when facing the monk. But that regret had passed.
“A monarch is not something anyone can become,” she continued. “The fact that only three have existed for thousands of years proves that.”
Thinking of the Seraphims, another realization surfaced in her mind, and her expression tightened slightly.
“I also know that it is a unique status, a title that allows the title holder to grant titles.”
Normally, acquiring a title required performing an action that proved one’s worthy of the title. Titles came in many forms, but they all shared one trait. The moment of acquisition was never under one’s control. With something like Kin Slayer, one could keep killing their own kin in hopes of unlocking it, yet never know when or if it would happen. It might be the first kill, the second, the third, or never at all. There were even documented cases of high ranking inquisitors who never obtained it despite meeting every apparent condition. In the end, the system alone decided. A monarch, however, possessed the authority to grant titles directly to their subjects. It was around this single privilege that the entire faith had been organized. Ranks existed because the Seraphim bestowed titles upon their followers.
“That is correct,” he confirmed. “Monarch is a title bestowed upon the apex individual of each of the six sentient species. The name varies depending on the race. For angels, it is Seraphim. For demons, Archduke of the Underworld. For elves, Patriarch or Matriarch. For humans, Emperor. At the end of the One and Only Era, one such monarch was slain by Arianna, leaving behind a vacuum.”
Ana was beginning to understand. “What about Arianna?” she asked, curiosity surfacing as she thought of the Queen’s fate.
He gave a dry chuckle. “Even she could not fill that void. In truth, King Lance and I had a far better chance than she ever did.”
“How come?” Ana asked, genuinely curiously. “Was she not… stronger?” After all, it was Arianna who had defeated Cleon, not them. But she was quick to notice how tactless she was. Still too late unfortunately. She had said the words.
“There is no need to soften it. She was stronger, far stronger than I. She was even stronger than King Lance and I combined. But unlike us, she failed to meet the requirements to become a monarch.”
Given what she knew of the requirements and the power he had just acknowledged, Ana ventured a guess. “Is it because she could not achieve immortality?”
He nodded. “Her time was limited. That was one of the reasons she challenged Cleon in the first place.”
In that moment, it finally became clear to Ana how the Queen had died. Arianna had reached the end of her lifespan after living for centuries.
“So if anyone could have filled the void left by Cleon, it would have been either King Lance or myself. Ideally both, just as Arianna wished. She could not, and neither could her monarch daughter, Theta.”
Ana nodded then frowned upon noticing. “Wait. Queen Theta is a monarch too?”
“Surprising, isn’t it? But less so if you think about it. The requirements for elves are very different from those of humans. Arianna made the necessary arrangements so Theta would be a monarch the moment she was born.”
The more Ana learned about Queen Arianna, the more impressed she became.
“I see.”
“Theta is a monarch, but she is a Matriarch, an elven monarch. In other words not an Emperor. That left only King Lance and me.”
At last, everything clicked. Ana understood why he had seemingly abandoned their order. He had done so to focus entirely on becoming an Emperor.
“Does that mean you…”
“Yes, Miss Anette. You are sharing your dinner with the second human monarch of the Era of Kings.”
Ana was speechless for a moment before something else struck her. “Second? Does that mean King Lance also became an Emperor?”
He nodded. “He did. He keeps it secret, but it is obvious from how he has slowly reinserted himself into world politics. He has been quietly rallying noble families back to the Evermere banner. From that alone, I can tell he has held the title for nearly a decade, preparing to reclaim what he can from the current rulers of the Land of Men, the Seraphims.”
The words made Ana recall what she had confidently explained to Charmy about who ruled the world. Only now did she realize how foolish she must have sounded to Lydia.
“They are not going to appreciate this move,” he muttered. “But they finally got the human monarch they wanted for the past hundred years.”
“I see,” she said after a pause, absorbing everything she had learned. Then another realization struck her. “Is that why you said the reform of the Inquisitorum Regiae happened because of perfect timing?”
He nodded. “Reviving it and having both its old and new members swear an oath would be my first act as a monarch.”
At that moment, Ana finally saw the full picture. The entire restructuring, the adventurer guild facade, it was all an excuse. A way for him to bestow his title upon the future assassin guild, just as the Seraphims did with their followers. Titles were not granted merely to establish hierarchy. Monarchs gained something in return.
With that realization, Ana could not help but chuckle. People like her, the Chairman, the officials, no, the entire world must seem puny and endlessly manipulable to someone like him, a man fighting a completely different kind of war.
“What’s funny?” he asked.
“Nothing,” she replied with a tired sigh. “I was just reminded, very vividly, of where my place is. May I ask another question? It is fine if you do not answer.”
“Ask.”
“That person back then. The one who created Lydia. She is not Theta, right?”
He nodded, confirming what Ana had already suspected. She had heard him call the elf Goblin more than once, never Theta. That alone had been enough. Still, she pressed on.
“Is she a monarch too?”
Ana remembered the casual way they had spoken to each other, almost as equals. She remembered how determined that person had been to erase every trace of her involvement with the followers of the Massiach. A shiver ran down Ana’s spine as she recalled how effortlessly that woman had suggested getting rid of her. Ana felt it back then, that elf was worse. Far worse than the captor who had abducted and tortured her.
“Hm. You put me in a difficult position, Miss Anette,” he said lightly. It was clearly meant as a joke, but Ana did not find it amusing in the slightest. “If I do not answer, that answers your question just as much as if I did.”
Good lord. That meant she truly was a monarch.
From the moment monarchs had entered the conversation, Ana had felt an uneasy suspicion about that elf. Now, to have it effectively confirmed like this, the weight of it hit her all at once. Her legs trembled as she stood, barely steady as she pushed herself away from the table.
“A problem?” he asked. “You look pale.”
“I am fine. Thank you for your concern,” she said, before lowering herself onto one knee.
“What are you doing?”
“As you can see, I am submitting myself to you.”
Back then, that person had been the source of all her misery. Yet she had also been the sole reason the elf had not carried out whatever abomination she had planned for Ana, Uta and Charmy. In the end, he had been her savior, and that outweighed every cruelty he had inflicted upon her. Besides, there had never been any real hope of revenge. Submission was the only rational choice.
“Allow me to swear my oath to you. Here and now,” she declared solemnly.
“You bend the knee easily,” he observed.
“Please do not judge my loyalty by that alone,” Ana said. “I value my life. I want to live a long one. I have bent the knee before, forgave the people who murdered my parents, just to survive this long. I will gladly bend it again for the chance to live. I will dedicate that life to serving your interests, as I have already done for the Inquisitorum Regiae.”
He did not look moved. Not that the words were meant to be stirring.
“Very well,” he said, rising to his feet. With one hand, he summoned an ethereal scale. Only now did Ana realize it was the inspiration behind both the Assassin Guild and the Inquisitorum Regiae’s sigils. With his other hand, he extended it toward her. “I will not judge your loyalty by these words.”
Ana reached out, and as she did she received a notification.
—
[Notification]
Congratulations! You've been bestowed a Title by Monarch [Dorian]
Title Name:
—
"Serve me well, Miss Anais."