CHAPTER 12: The Dragon in the Room
"Do you really have a solution, brother?"
Calia leaned against me, her body fitting against mine with an intimacy that was both new and unsettlingly natural. At twenty-one, as a woman in this kingdom, she had no way to resist her fate as a political tool. Except I just became her 'fate'.
"Of course there is a way, believe me. I'm going to find Father now. Just leave it to me." I kissed her forehead, the touch of her smooth, warm skin making me pause. "I'm here for everything. I... love you, Calia."
Okay, 'love' might be a strong word. 'Want' is more accurate. 'Want to add to my collection' is even more accurate. But she needed to hear it. A twenty-one-year-old woman carrying this much weight... if the moment had been right, I might have lingered. But timing was everything.
I felt the pull, no doubt about it. But I had to be smart. Restraint was key. Crossing that line now could blow this whole thing up. Terenas might panic and hasten her betrothal just to shield the family's reputation. And I am not losing this Task Reward. Unlike my... alliance... with Aunt Priscilla, which was an unburdened, adult understanding based on mutual, shameless benefit, this with Calia would demand careful navigation. She's a long-term investment. Priscilla is... a very generous preferred stockholder.
Arriving at Terenas's study, I already had my lie forming. I could invoke the Holy Light, perhaps even stage a subtle demonstration to sway my father.
Pushing open the door, I found another figure inside. A strange lord. He had a strong build, but a gentle, disarming temperament, one that washed over you like a spring breeze, making you want to drop your guard.
My internal alarms went nuclear. For reasons beyond the surface, I tensed. And right above the man's head, floating in a crisp, ethereal font only I could see, was the reason why:
[Duke Daval Prestor (Deathwing)]
Oh. Oh, you have GOT to be kidding me.
Deathwing. The Deathwing. The Aspect of Death, the Betrayer, the planet-breaker. The guy who went insane, turned on his kin, and nearly wiped out the blue dragonflight. The giant, lava-filled, genocidal lizard in a discount noble suit. A master of deception currently trying to... what?... marry my sister?
Well. This just got infinitely more complicated. And infinitely more interesting.
"Arthas, you're here just in time," Terenas said, beaming with a pride that was almost painful. "This is Duke Prestor, the lord of the Kingdom of Alterac. Mr. Duke, this is my son, Arthas."
I didn't wait. My brain was screaming, but my voice was pure, pious calm. "Father, I need Calia's help. She and I are both touched by the Holy Light. It guides me—I ask that you hold off on marrying her off. At least for now, I need her by my side for a long time. With her support, I believe I can push toward greater mastery, perhaps even the demigod threshold." Time to lay it on thick. Go big or go home.
Terenas's eyes sharpened. He slammed the table. "What nonsense is this?"
In stark contrast, Deathwing regarded me with keen, almost reptilian interest. I met his measured gaze. He's curious. Does the giant lizard find me... amusing?
"Your Highness," Prestor said, his voice smooth as silk. "Do you truly grasp what a demigod entails?"
"The soul of a demigod binds to the world itself, granting resilience beyond death. Their strength may vary, but longevity is assured," I replied vaguely. Is this guy for real? You know more about this than I do, you ancient wyrm, yet you're probing me? Fine, let's dance.
"Haha, Your Highness, what guidance has the Holy Light offered?" Deathwing's smile remained gentle. Gods, he's good. Without those scales, no one would ever suspect the monster beneath.
"My Lord Duke, if you'd care to discuss further, why not join a banquet tonight? I'll be there—we can speak freely." Translation: Get out. The adults are talking. "For now, allow me to address this family matter first."
I preferred privacy for such talks. Even a potential alliance with a dragon demanded extreme caution.
"Mr. Duke, my apologies," Terenas said, dismissing him politely. Between his son and political gains, blood won out.
"As you wish, Your Majesty." Deathwing bowed with flawless noble grace. I wonder if he practiced that bow for a few centuries just to pass the eons. "Your Highness, my manor hosts a banquet tonight. Please do attend—we have much to discuss."
"Indeed."
I saw opportunity. Dealing with this guy was like dancing with a live volcano, but the rewards... Betrayal could doom kingdoms, sure. But fear held no sway. Wealth and power favored the bold. My canon fate was clear: a hollow, sexless existence as a death knight, a slave to a glowing hat. Risking it all with Deathwing? Possible world domination, unimaginable power, and a harem that would make the history books. The choice is obvious.
Once the door clicked shut behind the dragon, Terenas's expression hardened. His fist struck the table. "Arthas. Give me a real reason."
He'd dismissed my talk of demigods as youthful folly.
"I am speaking the truth, Father," I said, bowing my head. Time for Act 2: The Pious Son. "The Holy Light has revealed skills to me—sharpened my mind in ways beyond the ordinary. It's not like the Archbishop's faith; it's an inheritance, a rare gift. If I must explain, call it fortune." In this world, invoking the divine carried weight where doubt might falter.
Terenas knocked the table thoughtfully, a habit of his when he was contemplating. "And what does this have toD o with Calia? Don't tell me she shares this 'inheritance' too."
"No, she's an ordinary priestess. But my path requires a close companion—family, to anchor the Light's flow." This is a good lie. It's plausible. It weaponizes her piety. "You're occupied with the realm, Mother with her duties. Only Calia has the time to stand with me. So I ask you not to wed her off. Even if it seems selfish, it's to grow stronger. To ease your burdens."
I played the sentiment card, weaving loyalty into my plea. If I could, I'd let Terenas live out his days in peace. Though no true paternal bond stirred in my reborn heart, I felt gratitude for the upbringing. He'd given me the tools to build an empire. Without conflict, a natural end was the kindest legacy.