The midmorning sun was warm. Errant clouds cast light shadows along the fairway in Neo Prism City’s, Winderfield Golf and Country Club. A warm breeze rose just as the Hidden Ruler, Benjamin Daublin-Lawson, patriarch of the Daublin-Lawson family, teed off. The sudden change in wind direction blew his ball off course and he clicked his tongue in annoyance. 

Behind him, the mayor of Neo Prism City, Rihanna Gilliam, chuckled at his misfortune, then sauntered over to her ball. “You must be losing your touch, Mister Lawson,” she chuckled as she prepared to swing. “That would never have caught you off guard a decade ago.” 

“Hmph,” Benjamin snorted. “You’re getting uppity, aren’t you, Ri?” 

For all that he was nearly twice her age, he had sponsored her college education a little over twenty years ago. Mayor Gilliam was careful to cultivate impartiality and Benjamin dared say she succeeded, though there were some deals that came his way just a bit earlier, or with just a bit more information, compared to other businesses. 

“It’s the truth,” Rihanna snarked. “Fore!” she yelled as she swung, and sent the ball careening down the fairway and into the green. “Heh.” 

“Nice,” Benjamin said dryly.

The two of them, along with their caddies and assistants, got into the golf carts and were ferried to where his ball went. They chatted while waiting, and the contents were innocuously about upcoming auctions, opportunities, and obstacles. 

“The Protectorate is busy these days,” Rihanna said. “The director’s hiding something.”

“I’d be surprised if they weren’t,” Benjamin chuckled. “The affairs of the gods are not for us mortals.”

He noticed her rolling her eyes as she muttered, “Even gods who pretend to be mortal.”

She didn’t know the details of his secret identity, of course, otherwise she would be firmly under his thumb. Or deep under the bay. The little bits he let slip were just enough to afford him some respect and wariness from rivals. 

“Ah, it’s campaign season next year,” she continued. “As usual, advance thanks for your group’s contributions.” She smirked at him then and Benjamin couldn’t help but chuckle at the woman’s cheek. 

Well, she wasn’t young and without any kind of vanity Alteration, she was well in her middle ages. However, product and careful hiring of medical talents made sure that her skin was always soft and supple, unmarked by wrinkles, but still dignified. 

“You can expect the usual.”

“Thank you very much,” Rihanna said succinctly. “Ah, but Delcourt riling up the constituents these days, my team could use some sprucing up.”

“Oh.” Benjamin hummed neutrally. He didn’t comment and waited for her to speak. They reached his ball, his swing putting it on the green this time. “Hah!” 

“Good one,” Rihanna said. She didn’t say anything else in that vein for the next three holes. But it seemed she had reached a limit, or she determined that she wouldn’t come off as desperate. 

She shouldn’t be that worried, Benjamin knew, but her party couldn’t be negligent either. The opposing party was going strong and had pinpointed several weaknesses of Rihanna’s governance, and made a point to emphasise it with his platform. That, and the rising use of social media on the Network looked like it would become an important avenue for campaigning. 

“I need some help.”

Benjamin raised an eyebrow, “I believe we’re already providing funds.” 

Rihanna grinned, then changed tack. “Yes, of course. Hmmm, there are a lot of new celebrities these days, yeah?”

He chuckled, already knowing where this was going. He thought about telling her that he had no practical leverage to use, and anything more than a referral, coursed through his older granddaughter, might backfire. 

“And which one caught your eye?” 

Rihanna snorted. “Don’t play coy with me, old man. You know exactly who I’m referring to.” 

“Ah, but let us both be clear.” 

“Fine.” The lady mayor snorted. “Lilibeth Lawson.”

“Oh, what about her?” 

Rihanna eyed him with narrowed eyes, which then widened and she snickered. “Are you telling me you don’t have control of her? Your own family?”

“What makes you think she’s one of ours? There are many Lawson families, and some of them are even from branch families long expunged.” 

“Hmm, you’d think so, huh?” Rihanna chuckled. “Not when the gig that started her career is from one of yours?” 

“It’s not well hidden,” Benjamin grinned.

“Oh?” Rihanna hummed softly, and it seemed she was too preoccupied since her swing sliced the ball towards the rough. “Divines,” she swore. 

“You’re losing your touch, old woman.” Benjamin guffawed. 

“If I’m old then you’re practically ancient,” Rihanna yelled. 

“Heh.” 

They went through a couple more holes before their conversation circled back. “You really don’t have her in hand?” she asked.

“I don’t.” Benjamin chuckled, “But if you want to hold her…” He let his words trail off ominously, and the mayor shrugged. 

“That’s why I’m asking permission,” she said. 

“As long as everything is clear.”

“Hmm, I’ll show you my proposal before we act.” She grinned. “With her on my side, I think we’d have the election in the bag. Not that I’m too worried, but better make sure.” 

The rest of the game passed by with little else of consequence spoken. Soon enough, Benjamin found himself seated for lunch at one of his favourite restaurants, Little Spicy Wings, in a private room. 

Once the food was served and he began eating, he turned to one of his assistants, or rather, one of the beneficiaries of his charities and sponsorships. He beckoned the young man to sit across from him and partake of the meal. Expressionless, the one called Arcmind, complied. 

“My granddaughter is displeased,” he said, “by your rash actions.” 

Arcmind bowed his head but didn’t offer an explanation. 

“Hmph, if you weren’t so useful, I might let Emma have her way.” 

“Apologies, my lord,” Arcmind finally answered. “I had to see for myself.” 

“Hmmm, and what are your thoughts?” 

Arcmind sighed. “There are many…inconsistencies from the information packet. I’ve seen her before, though I’ve not been introduced. She looks completely different now compared to back then. But it’s not in an obvious way. Look at her old photos and compare them to now and you’ll see it.”

“Yes, we’ve established she’s received a vanity Alteration.” 

“That’s not all,” Arcmind interrupted. “I don’t know how, but she’s seen combat before. She acts like a veteran.”

“And how could you determine that?” 

“Heart rate, demeanour, attitude, among other things. She did not hesitate to fight, and the daemons in that battle…” 

“That was also established earlier, but you say a veteran?”

“Yes. I get the feeling…the images of blood-soaked battlefields.”

“But where would she have fought? Even if her earlier surveillance priority was low, there are no battles of that level in Astoria, and if she left for the south, it would have been noticed.” 

“I don’t know, my lord. Just that it is what I could read.”

“Could read? You had trouble?”

“Her mind is an invincible fortress. I couldn’t even catch a glimpse of the defences,” Arcmind growled. “I am not without influence, but it will be slow going, especially compared to what I normally do.” 

“I see. Well, do not take any risks.” 

“Understood. What are your orders, my lord?”

“Continue as you are.” Benjamin smirked, “I won’t say anything else.”

“…understood.”

“Well, good luck, I guess. I wouldn’t mind you actually joining the family.”

“…thank you, my lord, but I will let things fall as they would.” 

______________

Amaya Stanton knelt with her head bent down. Beside her were her fellow Imperial Guards, Louis Robinson, and Gunther Patrick, both rather tall men, even if Gunther’s height of nearly two paces was due to his long bunny ears. Those ears were currently bent back in a show of submission, not to the emperor, but to the man behind him. 

The man was currently, and rather distastefully, carrying a basket on top of a levitating disc. The basket looked like one made to carry infants…ah, there is an infant in there. The cover just moved and Amaya caught a glimpse. 

As for Emperor Roland, the young man wasn’t in the room. The three imperial guards had been called, and they were…well, no longer imperial guards for his majesty. 

The old Archmagus had a scowl on his face and he was glaring down at the infant. When he finally looked up, his face was smooth, but Amaya could still detect his agitation through the ripples in space. 

“You three,” he began curtly, “will take this…child…to the Sacred Realm.” He waved his hand and a token appeared in front of Amaya. It was an inch and a half across, and on one side was an emblem that looked like a combination of three animals: a bunny, a snake, and a bird of some sort. “You will remain there until the child turns twelve. In that realm, no more than four years will pass here, but you will experience all twelve of those years. Afterwards, return here. Raise the child as though it is your own, but do not teach it magicraft.”

“Yes, master,” all three of them answered. 

“Amaya, you will lead.”

With that, the Archmagus Edward Turner disappeared from the chamber, leaving the child and the basket on the levitating disc. After a couple of moments, the disc lowered until the basket touched the floor, then dispelled. 

“Looks like you’re now a nanny,” Gunther said. 

“Looks like it,” Amaya muttered. 

“How long ago was it when you finished raising your grandkids?” 

“A couple of decades.” Amaya sighed as she picked up the basket. She froze when she saw the kid inside as her heart melted. Pale blue eyes, the colour of sapphires, stared up at her. The child could not have been more than a few weeks old, but could already raise his head and his eyes could follow hers. There was a bronze plate attached to a necklace, though it wasn’t actually clasped on the child, with a name on it. Aidan Kristoff. 

She picked up little Aidan in his swaddling clothes and carried him to her chest. Thankfully, her attire was not armour, but rather, enchanted robes. She spotted a satchel with preservation enchantments on it, and said to Gunther, “Take a look at what’s inside, please.”

Louis was the one who responded. He took hold of the satchel and sunk his senses into it. “Baby food, milk bottles, and medicine, as well as care instructions.” 

“Does it have enough to last a Season?” 

“I don’t think so.” He shook his head. “I wasn’t the primary caregiver when my kids were born.” 

“Shame on you,” Gunther said with a jesting tone. “My mate had a litter of five, and I helped take care of all of them.” 

“Don’t Khuni kits come out as toddlers?” Amaya asked pointedly. 

“Well, yes, but you know how much trouble kids that age get up to.” 

“Well, good for you,” Louis said sourly. “So we’ve been demoted to caregivers and we have to do it for a dozen years. Whoopee.” 

“At least we won’t be sent to the front when our charge gets bullheaded,” Gunther said. 

“And now Roland won’t have minders,” Amaya said. 

“He’s all grown up. Time to let him make his own mistakes. I suggest we get going. I feel the honoured Archmagus wouldn’t take kindly to us malingering,” Gunther said. 

“Do you have the coordinates to where we’re going?” Louis asked. 

“Yes. The City Portal,” Amaya said drily. “I’ve no idea how far away the Sacred Realm is, and even if I do, I don’t have the Elemental energy reserves to bring us there directly. That leaves the portal and the key. Go grab that and meet me at my quarters. I’ll have to throw a travel back.”

“Don’t forget the gold. We don’t know where or what we’ll find in that place, but gold always rings through,” Gunther said. 

“Aye, that it does.”

Source: Webnovel.com, updated by NovelKeep