Gentleman's Wars 2: A Tower Defense LitRPG Series Page 8

  The MC continued, producing another bow. A light blue one. I recognized it as part of the other cake I had eaten. More clamor and laughter occurred as a shorter elf maid emerged from the crowd, wearing a similar bow in her hair. Though this elf was much shorter than the other, she seemed to be far older and more dignified. She bowed deeply to me.

  Another bow produced. This action caused all the elves to gasp in surprise. By this time, something was beginning to dawn on me. It was like a slow descent of fog, so subtle that I didn’t quite realize it until it was far too late. This was not simply a display or show. There was something deeply significant about these bows. And about the cakes they corresponded to.

  A third woman emerged from the crowd, this one terribly thin and pale for her race. While the others had dark brown skin, hers was more a light brown and her cheek bones seemed higher than the rest of her kin. She was sobbing, but it was hard to tell if she was unhappy or simply elated. I swallowed hard as she too bowed towards me, sweeping her hands open wide as she bent down.

  Everyone clapped. A few people whistled and cheered. Flowers and garlands were thrown at our feet from the crowd. The beaming looks from the three elven maidens caused me to realize something. They wanted me to choose a bride, didn’t they? That’s what the cakes meant! Choosing a potential betrothal! It all made sense now. They said I was joining the Kinteli family, right? And there was only two means, adoption and marriage. And I was certainly too old to adopt. How could I have been so damn oblivious to this?

  “What’s er, I mean…what’s going on?” I whispered to Esha.

  “Shhh,” the Matron whispered, rubbing my back gently as she stood beside me. “Just a few more minutes. Your wives will need to present you with their bows before the ceremony is over.”

  Wives? Wives as in plural of wife? Was…was that what she just said?

  Chapter 14

  Most men would count their wedding day as one of the happiest in their lives. For me, it was a day of mild amusement, followed by utter shock. I learned very quickly, after the ceremony, that I was now married to not only one of those elven women, but in fact, to all three of them.

  Nothing about the festival indicated that it was a wedding. I wasn’t notified, given any information in Velecian nor were legal documents presented to me. All I did was eat some cake and drink some wine. That was hardly binding in the eyes of the Crown!

  But…I was in a precarious situation here. I cannot possibly imagine that Esha believed that I understood what was going on. With the way she shared little information, acted like this was a mere formality and encouraged me to participate in the festival, it was like she was…hoping to trap me into a marriage. Or marriages, as it were. In Velecian culture, annulments were possible, though extremely rare and required trickery of this kind of level to have been performed in order to even be considered. But what about elven culture? Did they have annulments?

  If I refused these brides immediately, I could get in a lot of trouble with the Kintelis. Maybe even to the point of violence. Or was that mere panic talking? I don’t know, but I certainly knew that I wasn’t ready to marry anyone, let alone three different women—none of whom were my own race nor spoke my own language. Would we even be compatible on a reproduction level? A Gentleman of the House needed to have children, and lots of them, but a cross-species marriage might not render this possible. How could I possibly woo any human woman after this?

  Many panicked thoughts went through my head as each of the maidens presented me their cup to drink from and then their bow to be tied around my wrist. At first, I tried to resist, but felt Esha dig her nails into my back a little, prompting me to comply. This was a trap. This whole thing was a trap meant to force me to marry into their family. A permanent alliance was the only thing that would truly protect the Kintelis’ interests from me. After all, they had given me a significant amount of power of their land and their defenses. What better way to ensure I would keep them safe and alive than by binding me to them as family?

  I had to stay calm. I would finish this ceremony and then head home, to consult with my family’s lawyer. Polygamy, by default, wasn’t particularly legal in Velicia, at least not to my knowledge. But was it illegal? It had to be, right? Because then a man might marry ten women, produce thirty children and then marry them all off in order to take control of the entire continent. Although, as far as strategies go, there were probably less exhausting methods of conquering the realm than trying to manage a family the size of an empire.

  I kept my cool, accepting each drink until the master of ceremonies announced the wedding was over. The marriage was sealed. Well, at least, I think she announced that. The crowd clapped, cheered and then, large tables full of food were wheeled out for the guests to enjoy. The cakes, including the untouched ones, were at the end of the table, allowing everyone to now partake.

  Attentions turned away from us and to the freshly cooked food, which included several roast boars to enjoy. My appetite, however, was long gone. Half in part due to all that cake I had eaten, and due to the ramifications of eating said cakes.

  My new brides remained behind, standing at attention, clutching their hands together and beaming at me. They said nothing, but I could tell they were greatly pleased, especially the pale one, who still was weeping with joy. At least, I really, really hoped it was joy.

  “That was wonderful,” Esha said. “Well done, Blake. This grand union will be well worth it, of that I promise. Now, will you be staying? Or do you wish to return home?”

  “I’m headed home,” I replied, speaking with determination to indicate that this was a firm decision. I wasn’t about to hang around. I had a lawyer to consult with. “I shall send carriages for my wives,” I said. “Have them pack up.”

  The elven Matron smiled at me, placing a hand on my chest. “No time to rest, I understand. You’ve got a lot of work ahead of you, that’s for certain. Don’t worry about fetching your elf-wives; we are already preparing your carriages. A traditional dowry would be one wagon full of gold per bride, but in this case, gold is not used as currency in your land. Instead, I felt that three autocarriages of the latest model would do, filled with everything your ladies will need to start their new lives.”

  Three autocarriages? By the Stars, that was…the latest models? Maybe this marriage wasn’t such a bad idea. No, wait, no, I couldn’t get excited about the dowry. I certainly wouldn’t be keeping it. Although if I could prove this was a trap, maybe the courts would let me keep one? Yes, I know, what a foolish and immature thought, but damn it I am completely nonplussed here.

  “Of course,” I said. “Thank you, Esha. I will be in contact with you shortly.”

  I could see the Matron’s pointed ears twitch somewhat. She frowned and tilted her head. “Have I done something to offend you?” she asked. A probing question. Trying to understand my state here. I decided to play things close to the vest, for I had already fallen prey to one trap. I couldn’t let her know of my dissatisfaction until I had divorce papers in hand.

  “I fear that my stomach is in a bit of disrepair,” I replied. “That is all.”

  “We’ll brew you some fig-leaf tea for the road,” Esha said. “And please, come back soon. You are always welcome in our home.”

  With that, I made haste in departing. No one seemed to mind or care that the groom or brides were leaving so quickly. Honestly, it seemed that the ceremony itself was the most important part. There were no traditional after ceremony activities to be done, or at least, none that involved me and my new er, friends.

  A few servants arrived, carrying what few things I had brought with me on the trip, escorting us to the outside of Kinteli Manor. A caravan awaited us there. True to Esha’s words, three brand new autocarriages were lined up. They were silver-plated, with heavy armor designed to ward off even Karrack fire. The wheels were thick and sturdy, made of the finest steel available. And new to this particular line—I believe it was the Wonder Wheel model
—were two crystals at the front of each vehicle. These crystals shined with bright energy, sending out beams of light forward. Perfect for night travel.

  Each vehicle was composed of three sections, each with their own doors. I could see seats lining every segment, meaning that this model was designed for long voyages with a full retinue. How much could this possibly be worth? Perhaps thirty thousand silver a car. It must be.

  As I stared at these marvels, my brides effortlessly rushed to each cab, claiming it as their own. They shouted out and waved on the servants to load their items into the vehicle. And then…then the families began to arrive. At first, I thought they were just wedding goers, here to bid us farewell, but there was a whole cadre of pale elves that eagerly climbed into the cab with my third wife. (How embarrassing to not even know their names and to merely number them! But none of them spoke a lick of Velecian!)

  Other families showed up, sometimes adults, sometimes children, but all of them knew which vehicle to get into and quickly piled in. No wonder there were no crying parents at this wedding. The brides were taking the whole family with them! This was almost certainly going to complicate things. Yet all I could do was just grin and bear it for now. Hopefully my family’s lawyer, whoever he or she was, would be able to help me sort this whole thing out.

  The front cab of each autocarriage was sealed off from the other segments, giving privacy to the passengers in the front. Three servants had lined up to open all three doors for me, inviting me into one of the vehicles. With a shrug, I picked the one in the middle and climbed into the gorgeous car. The benches were soft as a pillow, made of the most luxurious of red fabrics. It was even a little cool inside, as a mana gem mounted on the ceiling softly emanated waves of cold air.

  As I sat, waiting for the carriages to take off, the door opened and one of my new wives gingerly stepped in. She was the shortest of the group, a little more stout than the other elves, perhaps older too. She smiled widely as she took her seat across from me, folding her hands in her lap and crossing her legs.

  “Hi,” I said, slowly inching away from her, towards the other side of the cab. I certainly did not want her to get any ideas about nuptials taking place on the ride back home.

  “Savallah,” she said, pointing to herself. “Sav, ah, llah.”

  “Richard,” I replied, pointing to myself. She shook her head no at this and pointed to me. “Landon.”

  “No, Richard. Rich-ard,” I said. This caused Savallah to merely chuckle at me. She blushed a little more and sat back, closing her eyes for the journey. She let out a gentle, soft sigh, one greatly pleased with the state of life and sank into a deep sleep in a matter of seconds. I sure wish I had such an ability. This was going to be a long trip home.

  Chapter 15

  My staff was delighted to see so many people. There was only so many times you could clean the same unused dining table before you went mad, so the sight of living, breathing people who would need to be waited on, catered to and cleaned up after was of great joy to my maids and butlers. Likewise, the elven folks who emerged from my little fleet were overjoyed to meet these humans, some going as far as to hug and weep all over the maids, who returned such hugs, not knowing why they were well received but too well trained to ruin the mood.

  Amidst the swarm of elves and humans rushing around me, grabbing trunk after trunk full of Stars knows what, was my butler. Sigmund looked confused at the sight of so many people. “I guess that rules out my theory that you had decided to take a long walk off a short pier,” he said, shaking my hand as I approached. “Have you joined a circus?”

  “You really thought I’d off myself over a little ultimatum?” I said. “I was gathering allies. Didn’t you read my note?”

  “I attempted to read your handwriting. In fact, I employed a few learned individuals to decipher such a document, but to this day, none could learn the secrets it holds,” Sigmund replied with a laugh. “I take it you found us some allies?”

  “Er, not quite. Do we have a lawyer here? A family lawyer of some sort?” I asked. I lowered my voice just a tad. “Someone who understands divorce.”

  “No!” Sigmund gasped, putting a hand to his mouth as he spotted one of the elf maids emerge from the cab. “You didn’t!”

  “Lower your voice, they don’t speak our language, but they might understand,” I hissed. “I was tricked. Never eat cake at an elven event, Mr. Sigmund. No matter how enticing.”

  “I don’t know what that means, but I don’t think you should refer to women as cakes,” the old man scolded, rapping me on the ear. “I had too many friends die in my arms during the war for you to think less of them due to their gender.”

  “Ouch, I meant it literally,” I replied, narrowly dodging his second swipe. “Anyway, I need a lawyer. Quick.”

  “Well, your new advisor arrived just a day ago and he has the name esquire in his title, so I assume he could help. Our old lawyer retired a few years back, once your uncle had an unfortunate argument with him about billing hours. Apparently, the rapscallion believed he could charge Arnison for time spent enjoying drinks together. He called it, oh what was the name, I think…ah yes! Called it ‘fraternization expenses.’”

  “Sounds like a good lawyer to me,” I replied. “Too bad. Has the advisor set up in his office yet?”

  “This way,” Sigmund said, leading me away from the ruckus. My brides seemed too distracted with helping their families remove the luggage from the caravans to notice my disappearance.

  “I’m trying to figure out what to tell Miss Lily about all this,” I murmured as I followed the old butler through the many halls of the manor.

  “Is that so? Why should you have to tell her anything?” he asked.

  “Well, you know…” I replied. “I’m a bit fond of her. And her me.”

  “Though you’ve not the courage to act on it,” Sigmund chuckled as he led me to a great set of brass doors at the end of the northern wing. This was one of my uncle’s many libraries that he had throughout the house. While I had never seen the man read any of the books within, he had somewhat of an addiction to acquiring any tome he could get his hands on.

  “It has little to do with courage, and everything to do with propriety,” I said. “She’s my employee and not just that, but someone who lives under my roof and depends on me for food and board. You don’t think she’d be pressured by that power structure?”

  “I’d be inclined to agree with you, if she didn’t always take a minute to unbutton the top of her blouse when entering your office,” Sigmund replied.

  “She does what now?”

  The old man chuckled and winked at me, putting a finger to his lips. Before I could press for more information, he pushed open the doors to the library. Billows of eye-watering smoke came pouring out as the doors creaked open, causing my eyes to burn. At first, I feared there was a fire, but as the stench hit me, I realized it was merely incense. Cardamom and cinnamon mixed with some awful fragrance that seemed to overpower both of the pleasant ones. The smell was…oh wait, that was just how the library always smelled. I suppose the new advisor was attempting to cover up the normal smell of mildew, mold and thousands of unread books, slowly rotting on their shelves, damaged greatly from flooding half a decade ago.

  “Close the door,” came a harsh, stern voice from within. “You’ll let this noxious air out and kill one of the maids with it.”

  We shuffled in and shut the door behind us. I could see that there was an old man sitting in the center of the room. Every table in the library had been dragged together, to form one gigantic platform to host hundreds of books. Many were open, spread out in a haphazard manner all across the surface. Sometimes the older gentleman would toss one of the books he was reading aside, throwing it in such a manner that it landed open on the page he had been reading. An interesting way to catalogue things.

  “Greetings, Mr…” Oh what was his name? I couldn’t remember. I had selected the advisor so q
uickly I hadn’t time to remember who he was. Just that his stats were the highest on the list.

  “The name is Seamus,” the man said, snapping his neck from looking down at the book to focus on me. “Seamus Tonor Esquire, licensed Magistrate by Her Highness and authorized dealer of antiques.”

  Quite the pedigree! No doubt he’d help solve this elf issue at once. “I am Richard Blake,” I said, bowing to him. “Please, don’t get up.”

  Seamus didn’t look as if he were going to stand. He turned his attention back to a few books. “You’ve a few rarities here. Heavily damaged from water though, most of them aren’t worth much because of it. But there are some books here that are worth a fortune, even when the pages are stuck together. You know why?”

  I shook my head. Was this some kind of object lesson? Or rambling? “No, sir.”

  “Because these copies are so rare that they are indispensable, no matter the condition. Uniqueness, Master Blake, that is what sets these books apart from the others. And that is what will separate us from other gentries,” he said. He finally closed the book he was reading and stood up, to face me.

  I could see that he wasn’t as old as I had thought. While his shaggy hair was certainly grey, he was probably in his mid-fifties at the latest. He was clean shaven, fat in the cheeks and remarkably tanned for being someone who worked indoors. He wore the traditional red coat of a lawyer, complete with the little golden tassels hanging off the sleeves. The tassels represented something significant about the law profession, but only other lawyers understood what they meant. Such information was a trade secret.