It goes smoothly.

While the small feast you had Gregan arranged was not up to the usual standards of the Phebisian court, there was enough food to get minds thinking and enough booze to get them thinking outside the box where it mattered. It seemed that Magus and Gregan had a lot to talk about as their focuses in life were similar, meaning you had little time to see where you stood with your distant cousin. Plans for the next stages of the war were looking promising and orders were gradually being driven out of the room by messengers to get things ready for the preparation by dawn. Perhaps some of the most depressing parts of the meeting were the count on lives lost so far, which was increasing with each update, and the news the elves that were under Countess Eria’s banner had brought to the table.

“She does not feed us well,” Began an elf of unknown age before you and the table of war advisors. Vessa listened carefully to this elf’s account of events and why so many refugees from Elileithel were pouring in from the north, “We left Elileithel due to being displaced by a demon invasion of our lands to the north. The war is ongoing, and many of us were seeking solitude to the south and east. Countess Eria had initially promised suitable quarters for us in way of camps that were set up in fields throughout her lands. It wasn’t long before gates were built around them, with an ever increasing amount of guards. We were **** to work or starve. When we did work the meals were meager. Eventually, families were separated, and we were told that to see them again, we had to march to war. The consequences for denial were the heads of our loved ones inside burlap bags.”

“Did you not try to fight for your freedoms?” Magus was the first to ask.

“We did, but the countess had some level of magical barriers and arms that outclassed our own. Something dark is happening there. What started as a secluded paradise began to grow thick with a miasma that only Elvenkind was capable of seeing. Telling our human counterparts about it only earned us scorn or ****.”

“So let me get this straight.” You began, “Eria is collecting you in camps to work or starve? Threatening your lives and the ones you care about to conscript the more able-bodied? And there is an evil mist that lingers in her lands to the north?”

“It is just as you say, your majesty.” the elf nodded respectfully.

“Lady Vessa, what do you make of this?”

The petite elf sat straight in her chair, wearing a blue gown that exposed her shoulders allowing her shoulder length hair to tickle the exposed fair skin. The elf speaking his account did eye her from time-to-time, in what appeared to be fear, but it wouldn’t surprise you if it was her beauty also captivating him. She surely stuck out from the other beauties in the room, all of the human race, and her contralto made her presence even more pronounced, “There seems to be a lot of parallels to what happened in Luxem here.”

“Preposterous,” shouted Gregan. Speaking with Magus had helped him recover some of the lost confidence you had worked so hard to steal from him. Now he was speaking as loud as his late father again, “Countess Eria is not possessed! She has always had an avid hatred for foreigners, Itherian or Elf. It sounds just like her to lure the elves in to help support her revolt against my claims!”

“Even more so to believe she is possessed,” continued Vessa. Clearly upset from the young Duke’s interruption, “The hatred already existed. It sounds to me like an opportunistic demon fed on that to try and open a two front war on Elileithel. Surely it would not hesitate to weaken the stronger human nations so that they would not come to the aid of the Elves.”

“As if!” Gregan replied, “Never had they come to aid us in **** times. Elvenkind is doomed to extinction for their backwards ways.”

“Mind your tongue, Gregan!” You shouted, “That’s my court mage you are speaking to.”

“I apologize for telling the truth, but none of this rids Countess Eria of treason.” Gregan took a swig of wine before continuing, “She murdered my father, and has slain countless others in my domain. Possessed or not, she will pay with her life.”

It was the only real solution. Countess Marissa of Luxem had not claimed lives in your domain, perhaps the demon inside her was trying for a more stealthy approach than the one in Eria. The people would not forgive Eria for this turmoil just because she was possessed by a demon. Marissa had the opportunity to pay back the taxes she robbed from the masses, but Eria could not be able to give people back their homes and lives.

“None of it changes the war plan either,” Said Magus deeply, “Demon or not we will be victorious with our carefully planned maneuvers. The only thing this knowledge has provided is need of priests from the Itherian Faith to be recruited in case any exorcism be necessary.”

“Indeed.” Vessa agreed.

“…Then we will make it so.” It didn’t take you much time to reach that decision. You’ve dealt with a demon before, “Prepare it so that one-tenth of the priesthood in Philos marches with the armies. We will play it safe on that front. Gregan, these are your lands, would you be willing to march to the Countess’ domains in my stead?”

Gregan seemed at a loss for words at first. You had asked in manner of utmost respect, something he hadn’t really expected from you anymore. It would allow him to regain his good name as a leader with his armies, but with one major setback, him marching would leave you alone with all the women of the royal family, which he did not like, but a single nod from Magus swayed him. “It would be an honor, your majesty.”

“Then that concludes this war council. Generals and Marshals, see that the preparations are begun by dawn, and to my original guests…” You eyed Vessa, Magus, and Gregan along with his family, “Let us drink the rest of the night in celebration for a successful defense of Philos.”

“A fine idea, your majesty.” Vessa proclaimed. Drinking from her mug of stout.

As the night grew later you found that Gregan had to hurriedly excused himself for some reason, and it finally left you with time to see what your standing was with Magus. While a couple dozen guests were continuing to drink inside the dining room, you and Magus brought your drinks to the outside balcony for some fresh air.

“You handle yourself well as king, Bryce.” Magus began the conversation. “Perhaps if my mother saw you now she would not be as critical as she usually is towards you.”

“How is your mother, Magus? Last I saw her she didn’t realize how many heads she could turn in a courtroom. Male or female.”

“She still can, but you didn’t pull me out here looking for advice on how to woo my mother,” Magus said blandly, “And if you did, her opinion of you is so low that you’d be better off roping a goddess from the heavens into your bed…What do you need, Bryce?”

“Never one to beat around the bush.”

“No, now what trouble have you gotten yourself into?” Magus took a sip of wine, “Beyond this war, I mean.”

“What do you think of Lady Victoria?” You got right to the point.

Magus released a deep sigh and then took more that a sip of wine this time, “My mother would not approve of one so low in title as a potential wife. Do you want her to hate you more?”

“She’s a beautiful girl, Magus. Straight out of adolescence, and yet her body can rival your mom’s. Would you not accept that?”

“So you do want her to hate you more…Look, Bryce. She is a beautiful girl, but I have no intention of accepting your offer. She’s not even yours to give away. What would Count Erwin say about all this? Even if she was his only child, I stand nothing to gain from it.”

“I have a missive from her father approving the union in the traditional Frost Knight manner. Something that was not easy to come by, mind you.”

“Easy or not, my answer is no.” Magus did not seem too happy about the proposal, “I’ve helped you out of a lot of problems in the past, but taking on your used whore and her bastard is where I draw the line.”

“…What if proof that you bed your mother were to be released?” Magus face immediately became fierce. You lean on the edge of the balcony to avoid looking at him. Finding some comfort in the dim city lights, “The news would spread like wildfire across the kingdom, and your prestige shot.”

“You would use your cutthroat scheming on me!?”

“No,” you replied quickly in order to help keep his voice down, “Not even if you refused the marriage. News of this only came to my ears today, and honestly I don’t care what you do with your mother. Even more honestly, I don’t blame you. A woman like her? Makes me writhe in agony knowing she’d allow a roach in her bed before me. I know this is a problem of my making, and I would never **** you to solve it. And once she’s in your grasp I don’t care if she were to die by your hand or your mother’s, but I would rather avoid that if I could…If I manned up I could just leave her on the streets…face the wrath of my Chancellor till the end of my days…but I can’t do that to her.”

Magus let out another deep sigh. You could tell he wasn’t buying all the bullshit that you were giving him, but he still joined beside you in leaning over the edge of the balcony, “Tell me the entirety of this grand scheme of yours, and maybe I’ll consider it.”

So you did exactly that. Stopping a couple of times so potential eavesdroppers could walk by the two of you. Magus’ expression remained unchanging, but seemed impressed when you mention Princess Clara’s involvement as well, “Without this planned revolt by Countess Eria, none of it would have even been necessary. But this is the fool-proof plan I’ve come up with.”

“A plan made fool-proof by a fool.” Magus only held an empty mug of wine now, “There’s one condition.”

“Name it.”

“One of yours marries one of mine, and I will not tell you if it’s my mother’s fruit or if it’s Victoria’s. I think it’s time our family lines became a little closer again.”

“Deal.”

“Also,” Magus still had more to say, “I hope the day comes you grow up, and when I’m in a rut of my own, it’ll be you helping me out of it.”

“Also a deal.” You were eager to meet his request. This was a huge weight off your shoulders.

“And to think I even tried to make the newly titled Duke friendly with you again.”

“I’m sorry I made your efforts in vain.”

“Worry not,” Magus stood straight again, “He won’t be a problem much longer. Think I’ll keep making him think he can still be a friend to us.” He began to walk back to the dining room, “Deliver that missive to Lady Victoria tonight, and I’ll find her bedroom tomorrow. I need another drink.”

“Me too, Magus.” You say. Standing straight to do the same, “Me too.”

[You develop a friendship with Magus.]

The rest of the night went by without a hitch. The dozen or so courtiers and guests to the small feast were having a good time, and you wondered about what your next encounter may be. Or if you wanted to catch up on that sleep you have yet to acquire a decent amount of. Clara has been trying to make it clear that she wants to be alone with you for the night. Probably for an update on the Victoria situation. She would be happy to know that Magus is in on the planning for Phebis too. Her equally petite mother was always shooting glances your way as if to encourage you to speak with her. And Lilya, with her husband out for whatever reason he chose to leave, was finding it hard to leave your side. The only other one would be the elusive Vessa, who was downing entire barrels of stout in her corner.

The women here can always wait though, and there was certainly some more assurances you could use from your Marshal or Akina about the next phases of the war. If nothing else, you could bed Victoria one last time before your cousin, Magus, took her with him to the march north, and to the Frostpeaks after that.