Sexy Steampunk Babes: Chapter Fifty

William sighed as the crystal orb on his desk returned to its usual blue hue.

“She’s going to make you pay for that,” Xera opined from over his shoulder.

The count of Redwater county just shrugged. “I’ve little doubt. Still, needs must. As tempting as it might be to slink back to the academy rather than stay here and ‘face the music’.”

And it was quite tempting.

The instructor he’d just been talking to hadn’t seemed all that surprised by his request to take a ‘sick day’. He imagined she’d already fielded a few similar calls that morning, the vast majority of which would be from servants covering for hungover young noble scions who had partied just a little too hard on the weekend.

It wasn’t an unusual story. Still, it was behavior the academy attempted to curtail. Hence why the instructor’s final words on how he would ‘make up the time lost’ sounded so ominous. Because he had little doubt of their authenticity. The time he’d lost would be recouped somewhere else during the week and it would be done at a time that was as inconvenient to him as possible.

He didn’t spend long lingering on the joys the coming week would bring though, not when the reason for his decision to linger at his territory beyond the weekend chose to make herself known.

“Got a set of lungs on her,” Xera opined quietly as a series of muffled invectives issued forth from beyond the wooden doors.

William nodded. “Aunt Karla typically doesn’t yell much, but when she does…”

Another shout issued forth, this one with a tone of finality, just before the doors to his office burst open, the woman in question striding inside with an imperious expression on her face.

For a moment William was tempted to point out that she needn’t have bothered with the yelling or her grand entrance, given that the guards had been instructed to give her free access to his office in advance. Indeed, he was reasonably certain the only reason his aunt didn’t know that was because she’d started shouting before said guards could speak and finished her tirade by bum rushing the entrance.

“What the fuck did you do last night, William?” Karla spat, red in the face. “Why the fuck did I wake up to find my night clothes covered in red paint and Olivia weeping at my side.”

“Well, in order, because last night at dinner you were dosed with a slow release sleeping draught. Then, after you went to bed, you were summarily dragged from your room and tossed into a puddle of red paint. As for Olivia, the reason for the aforementioned actions was that they set the stage for Olivia’s fake ‘kidnapping’. Which in turn, served as a striking prelude to a rather important talk.”

He saw the slap coming. He’d been dealt enough of them over the years that the motions were familiar to him. Never from Aunt Karla though.

He didn’t dodge.

He didn’t need to.

Because Xera was already moving, her hand came up to catch his aunt’s wrist in an iron grip.

“Don’t.”

It was a single word, but it held weight as the wood elf stared into his aunt’s surprise expression. Because whatever the former navy woman’s feelings on what he’d asked her to do the night before, he was still her lord.

And a woman had just attempted to strike him right in front of her.

Of course, it took but a moment for his aunt’s surprised expression to morph into a snarl. “Unhand me right now!”

“I will.” Xera’s tone was unyielding. “As soon as I believe you are no longer a threat to my liege lord.”

In that moment, William was glad he’d instructed Xera to keep her kraken scale cuirass on, or rather arrive with it, for this confrontation. Because without it had a feeling the sparks currently flying between the two women would have quickly become far more literal.

“He’s my law-son,” Karla spat back.

Though whether that insinuated she wasn’t a threat to him or had a right to strike him at her discretion was a little fuzzy.

Maybe a little of both?

Still, it proved a good segway into the point he wanted to make both last night and now.

“True, but I’m also her liege lord and the lord of the territory in which you dwell. Not the rebellious teenager you seem to think I still am.”

It was clear what she wanted to spit back in response to that, but as she finally pulled loose her wrist from the wood elf holding it, she instead chose to take a different tact.

“Is that so? If that’s the case, what should I see your actions last night as? An ill-conceived prank from a teenage boy towards his family? Or the criminal actions of a lord towards his noble guests? Because either way, I’ve half a mind to fly Olivia and myself back to the Ashford estate.”

“How about the disciplinary actions of a warden to two rebellious prisoners under his care?” he said slowly. “Because while you both certainly have the right to leave my estate, your right to continue breathing once you do becomes a lot more fuzzy.”

Karla paled as Xera grinned.

Which made sense. For all that she was working for him now, the wood elf was a royal navy woman. Indeed, she’d only agreed to take part in the fake kidnapping once he explained a few details of why Olivia was staying on his estate. Thereafter, she’d gotten a bit more enthusiastic about the plan.

“Make no mistake, just as kidnapping Olivia served as a prelude to the conversation I had with her about the realities of your little conspiracy and her current place in the world, last night’s events also served equally as a prelude to this conversation with you.”

He sat forward. “My sister is a fourteen year old girl. You and my mother made her the lynchpin of a grand conspiracy to overthrow the crown! You made her a target. You put her in danger. And apparently, at no point did any of you sit down with her and explain the dangers of what your grand scheme entailed. Or the consequences of what would happen if it all went to shit. Which, I will note, it has.”

That was what he’d talked about with Olivia last night. He’d made her aware of the fact that this wasn’t a game. How much danger she was in. And how much danger she would have been in regardless of his actions. Because even if he was the one originally slated to marry into the Blackstones, Olivia was the lynchpin to the whole scheme.

If the Queen found out about her parentage at any point prior to the coup and put two and two together… Well, the kidnapping he’d just faked would have paled in comparison to what a team of invisible assassins could and would do.

Truthfully, he had no idea how much of his point Olivia had actually absorbed, between kicking his shins, but hopefully he’d dissuaded her from doing anything… foolish in the near future.

Like trying to escape.

Because he wouldn’t put it past Yelena to use that as an excuse to tie up a loose end.

The very thought of it made his blood boil as he leaned forward. “To that end, you have no idea the lengths I’ve gone to and the enemies I’ve made to keep her and yourselves from suffering the consequences of you and my mother’s idiocy.”

He enjoyed the way she flinched. Because while he might not have enjoyed last night’s conversation, there was a catharsis in this. Sure, Karla might have been the fun aunt and likely the one least involved in the conspiracy – but she was still an adult woman and had been involved.

“So I will reiterate what I said politely when I spoke to my mother. Stop spying. Stop scheming. Stop rebelling. And for god’s sake, don’t try to run.”

His aunt stood in silence for a few seconds, her expression complicated, before she spoke.

“What enemies?”

He cocked his head, confused that that would be what she’d honed in on.

“The queen for one,” he said offhandedly. “The secret behind the Kraken Slayer was her price to stay her hand when she was made aware of Olivia’s parentage and your plans.”

“The Kraken Slayer… how…” Karla choked.

Nearby, he noted the way Xera raised an eyebrow, which made sense given this was news to her too.

“The Kraken Slayer was my invention,” he said. “Alone. And the secret behind it was a valuable bargaining tool for me. Until I was forced to give it up.”

“I… how?”

He made a so-so gesture. “The Flashbang. Spell-bolt. Basically just byproducts of the Kraken Slayer. And that’s all I’ll say on the topic for both our sakes.”

He could see her mulling over his words, not entirely sure he was telling the truth but unable to say he was lying either.

“Ultimately though that’s irrelevant,” he continued. “Consider this me laying down the law. I’m not your law-son here. I’m not another noble hosting you. I’m both your warden and only protector. My estate is the prison you’ve created for yourselves until such time that someone other than Olivia inherits the Summerfield title. Don’t cause any more trouble for me or yourselves.”

Finally, his aunt had had enough. “Trouble? There wouldn’t be any trouble or danger if you’d just married the Blackstone girl. Hell, with the secret of the Kraken Slayer the war would have been all-but won already!”

He scoffed. “Well, it’s good to know the insanity in Olivia is not entirely of her own making. Because you seem to be under this illusion that your plan was the safest route for our family. And perhaps it would have been, if everything went perfectly.” He gestured about the room. “The fact that you’re standing there and I’m sitting here is proof things never go perfectly. And what happened last night was a very real possibility regardless of my own actions. The Queen is not a fool. Sure, she was taken off-guard by her enemys’ willingness to team up against her to preserve the slave trade, but she is not without intelligence assets of her own.”

Again, he made a mental note of the fact that the Blackstones hadn’t informed his family of the existence of Yelena’s invisible guards. And he was still sure the Blackstones knew of them.

So the question was why they were keeping that detail so close to the chest?

“I… understand,” Karla grunted. “I’m not happy about any of this. Not even close, but I understand what you’re trying to say. There’ll be no trouble from me while I’m here. Nor from Olivia.”

“Good. You’re dismissed,” he said without preamble.

Karla made it halfway to his door before he spoke again, the words slipping out of him. “And for what it’s worth, I’m sorry I made my point the way I did. I just… needed to hammer home that Olivia needs to stay out of trouble. Yelena’s just looking for an excuse to take her off the board.”

Karla paused, eying him.

“I guess I’m sorry we pushed you this far. At least, in general. Last night was a step too far. Especially when a conversation would have done more than enough.”

Her bit said, the woman left. Willaim stared after her.

“I don’t disagree, you know,” Xela opined, tone disinterested, as if she were talking about the weather. “I mean, I did as you asked because I’ve got little sympathy for traitors, but… given you supposedly love that girl… Well, when those other girls called you drama-king, they weren’t kidding.”

“I get it. I get it. I took things too far,” he muttered to the room at large.

And now he was left wondering… why? Why did he… not just talk to Olivia?

‘Because he needed to make his point heard’, was the almost instant rejoinder.

…Except, he could have done that without all these theatrics.

Slowly, his mind circled back to Marline and her words, yet even as he had the thought, he struggled not to dismiss it. Indeed, it was almost unnaturally hard not to do so.

And that clinched it.

Fuck, he thought. The harrowing really is affecting me.

Resisting the urge to slam his head on his desk, he spoke. “I… think I should try and make it up to her. Olivia. I mean, I still stand by my reasoning, but you’re right… this was all a bit much?”

Xela laughed. “The fact you sound unsure about that is concerning. Yes, this was insane.”

Well, double fuck.

What to do though?

Food. The idea jumped into his head without prompting. He’d make her something nice. Something new. Maybe something South American? Or French?

“Should I ask for a carriage back to the capital?” Xera asked as he stood up. “The Instructors will probably still give you the void for missing the morning, but it won’t be so bad if you manage to arrive for the afternoon.”

“No,” he said as he moved out from behind his desk. “I’m heading to the kitchen.”

Of all the things Xera might have expected him to say, that clearly wasn’t on the list as she cocked her head. “The kitchen?”

“Yeah, I…” he started to say as he reached for the door.

Then paused as he realized he didn’t actually didn’t know where the kitchen was beyond generalities. He knew which wing of the estate it was in, but he’d never actually gone in there.

“Huh?” he said.

Actually, when was the last time he’d done any cooking? Once upon a time he’d done it pretty much every day. Now he couldn’t actually remember the last time he’d stepped into a kitchen.

Not since killing Al'Hundra... or at least thereabouts...

“Huh…” he said again. “That’s interesting.”

--------------------

Tala resisted the urge to scowl as she followed her mother into the captain’s cabin. “This goes beyond our own ambitions and concerns Lindholm as a whole. We should inform the crown of the submersible capability of the orc craft we’ve recovered. Not least of all because there is still one ship still unaccounted for.”

Contrary to the rest of the ship, which was little more than bare steel devoid of decoration, Elanore Blackstone’s cabin was a riot of colors. Captured banners, swords and trophies of all sorts decorated the walls, while rich purple carpeting dominated the floor.

“One ship is not a threat,” the Blackstone duchess dismissed as she moved to sit behind her desk. “Not even to those soft southerners.”

Personally, Tala begged to differ. Ignoring the threat it presented to coastal villages, she could well imagine the damage a single broadside from the vessel might do if it chose to surface right inside a city’s bay. Oh sure, it likely wouldn’t get off more than a salvo or two, but that would still leave a lot of innocent lives lost that could have otherwise been safeguarded with just a few words in the right ears.

The notion was made worse by the fact that such an attack would be entirely in character for the beasts. A final act of spite against their betters before being consigned to oblivion where they belonged.

Indeed, with each passing day with no sighting of the vessel above or below the waves – as limited as their ability to search the latter was – the more she feared that was their plan.

Still, that wasn’t her primary reason for wanting to alert the other houses of Lindhom of this new ship type.

“Perhaps not, but if orcs can come up with a concept like this, so can the elves,” Tala argued.

That comment made her mother pause, the older woman pausing her writing to think it over.

“Assuming our coastal defenses were unaware of the capability, I suppose it’s possible it might give the knife-ears a way of making landfall without us engaging them over the water like last time.”

“Exactly!” Tala said. “We can scarcely settle the score with Yelena if half of the south falls to an invasion fleet before we’re ready to act.”

Elanor took a breath, considering her words before she spoke. “That is a risk, but a small one. Had the elves a means of avoiding Kraken attack prior to now, we’d have surely seen them use it against each other.”

That was a point. Indeed, Tala knew that both her mother and the crown had a number of informants overseas whose only job was to report on any new weapon developments created in the two race’s constant blood war.

“More to the point, this new type of vessel represents a clear opportunity for us. This is a new dynamic in warfare. Amphibious combat. And if properly applied, it might allow us to end our war with the Queen more cleanly than we had earlier hoped.”

Tala frowned. “Do we truly have the need? With the Summerfield duchy on our side-”

Elanor shook her head. “Not too long ago I received news from our informant in the palace. The Ashfields have turned on us. Yelena is aware of the half-breed’s true ancestry and she has since been hidden away somewhere. Assuming she isn’t dead.”

Not for the first time, Tala felt the old urge to curse the Ashfield name. They’d been little more than an impediment from start to last.

“Do you think it was William?” she asked.

Elanor shrugged. “Your former fiancé? It’s possible. There’s no denying he is the Queen’s creature and he might have overheard something.”

Tala fought viciously to keep her temper under control. “Still, I knew he was a traitor to his family and race, but to sell out his own sister?”

Tala had exchanged more than a few letters with the half elf and it was clear she adored her older sibling. So much so that Tala had allowed herself some small excitement at the thought of meeting him herself, despite his clear antipathy to their match.

After all, if the man could apparently forgive the girl who’d displaced him as heir, then surely Tala herself could overcome whatever issue had apparently come between her and the boy she’d never met.

And we know how that went, she thought resignedly. Clearly the boy was biding his time to remove his sibling and Olivia had never truly known him.

The thought brought a small pang to her chest before she wrestled it down.

“So, with Olivia off the board we’re back to a conventional war rather than the semi-bloodless coup we were hoping for,” Tala muttered.

“Exactly, a war that not only invites the risk of elven invasion – submersible craft or not – but also our ‘allies’ getting ideas,” Elanor said coolly.

Which Tala understood.

The alliance between them and House New Haven had always been an uneasy one, borne more of a mutual distaste for the crown’s overreach into their affairs than any true solidarity.

Indeed, as staunch elven supremacists, the fact that the duchess of New Haven chose to approach them had been a surprise to all of Blackstone.

“There’s every possibility that once the Royal Fleet and the South are defeated,” Elanor continued. “New Haven will turn on us by rallying the now pacified elven southern houses to their cause.”

The plan did, after all, call for the Blackstone fleet to tangle with the Royal Navy, while the New Haven marine and air fleets looped south.

It was the strategically correct choice given the fact that New Haven had access to a much larger transport fleet for their marines, but that still meant that Blackstone would be tangling with the more difficult target.

Oh, they’d win of course, but that would still leave them in a poor position in the event House New Haven had ambitions beyond just preserving their trade lanes.

“Do you ever grow tired of this scheming?” Tala asked. “Our greatest allies might well be our greatest enemies in time, while the crown, our actual enemy, needs to be preserved as an ally against our other enemies across the sea.”

“Oh, you have no idea girl,” Elanor laughed, the fleet admiral giving way for just a moment to her mother beneath.

“Yet we keep scheming all the same.”

“For the good of our race,” Elanor said. “Never forget that. Would that the Queen had her way, it’d be but a few years before everything we and our ancestors have fought for would be rendered moot. Orcs living amongst us, defiling our men. Multiplying beyond control. The Royal Navy even more rife with treacherous greenskins just waiting to turn their cannons on us and ours. And us, shackled by the law and powerless to stop any of it.”

Elanor shook her head. “No. Yelena forced our hand with these reforms.”

Sighing, she turned back to her writing. “Which is why we’ll keep the orc’s capabilities silent for now. At least as best we can. Just as I have spies in the South, it’s all but guaranteed the Queen has spies in the North. So we need to move fast before the secret inevitably leaps. We’ll both repair the ships and convert another squadron to be outfitted similarly. And through them we’ll hopefully be able to bring the coming war to a swift end.”

“And if the Crown discovers we knew about this new ship type and confronts us about it?” Tala asked.

Elanor snorted. “We’ll claim we considered it beneath their notice. What’s she going to do, declare war on us? If Yelena had confidence she could do that and win, she’d have done it by now.”

Tala didn’t argue. Even with new ships being put into service as a result of the newly harvested mithril cores they had access to, it would be years yet before the crown enough hulls combat ready to make victory against the North a guarantee.

“At least now we don’t have to wait for the half-breed to come of age,” Elanor muttered.

And once more, Tala felt a pang. Half-breed or not, Olivia had clearly taken after her human side more than that of the elf. She’d… liked her, after a fashion.

Once more, the low simmering hatred she had for William Redwater threatened to flare up. Once more she forced it down before speaking. “Nor arrange for the reclusive Summerfield duchess to have an accident when the girl did.”

“No, I suppose not,” Elanor said. “And the last six months have done much to recover our reputation in the eyes of the fence sitters after your… loss last year. Our crushing of the orc resistance at long last has certainly helped on that front.”

Tala grinned. “How long do you think it’ll be before we can move?”

Elanor hummed. “Between refitting our new ships and bringing a few of the houses that got cold feet back into the fold? Another year? Maybe less?”

Tala grinned, and as she did she hoped Olivia was smiling up at them from the Void. For though her death had made the coming conflict more difficult than it might otherwise have been, it had also brought victory one step closer.

And Tala fully intended to reap a bloody vengeance in the half-elf’s name.

Starting with the man who had ultimately caused her demise.

William Redwater.

…Though she knew it wouldn’t be easy. She’d underestimated the cad once and paid for it. Why, she’d bet that even now he was cooking up some manner of nefariousness…

-------------------

Team Seven was more than a little surprised to find their team leader present when they tiredly tromped back into their dorm.

And not just present, he was cooking.

Both surprising because William didn’t cook, and because the dorms weren’t really suited to it. The small kitchenette they had was basically only suitable for warming up a bowl of stew and little else.

Yet there William was, a few different items on the go as he stirred something frankly delicious smelling around in a small pot.

“William?” Verity asked as she unslung her flight gear. “The Instructor said you were sick?”

“Or hungover,” Olzenya added as she curiously peered at the small collection of other items that had been piled onto the table.

“Something like that,” the boy in question said as he pulled something off his singular stove. “Fortunately, it let me come to a few realizations.”

“Realizations that lead to you cooking?” Marline asked as she poked at some kind of… fluorescent jellyfish like thing. “God it's been ages since you've made anything."

“I know right?” the boy said with a wide lopsided smile. “It’s been a while.”

“You don’t seem rusty,” the dark elf pointed out.

He favored his teammate with a look. “Ah, some things you never forget.”

For some reason, those words seemed to make a look of realization come over the dark elf as she once more gazed at the smorgasbord of food. Personally, Bonnlyn wasn’t too interested in figuring out why. All she wanted to do was dig her fork into a nearby stack of… something with rice.

“That’s… good?” Marline said.

William shrugged. “I’ve found it relaxes me. Lets me take my mind off… other things.”

Once more there was that queer look of realization. “Oh, then that is good.”

The boy just smiled. “Now, some of this is for Griffith and some is for the Whitehall twins, but there’s plenty for my team.”

None of the girls could move fast enough to sit down, barely waiting before tucking in.

“Oh, also, Verity?” William continued a moment later.

The girl in question glanced up in alarm, some kind of frosting already smeared across her lips. “Sorry! Was I not supposed to eat that bit!?”

“No, nothing like that. I’m glad you like it.” William smiled. “No, I was just going to ask how you’d feel if I bought your family’s contracts? Or yours, specifically? Then had them come live on my land. I’ve already got a patch of land set aside. To own in perpetuity.”

He paused, a complicated expression coming over his face. “Truth be told, I was going to just… do it without saying anything, but it occurred to me it’d probably be better to ask.”

 Silence fell across the room, the sound of all chewing stopping instantly.

But for a small sound.

A low squealing that seemed to be emanating from a certain green skinned young woman.