19.2

Before he could leave for Kirilia and commence the southern assault, the new king had some affairs to clear up in the North. When the barons returned to their homes, all but Leknir found a squadron of torture troopers waiting. Dirk quietly purged the Karteian aristocracy of anyone powerful enough to cause him any trouble, ever. Never again would Dirk's ability to act be constrained by subordinates.

He intended to carve the old baronies up into very small fiefs and reward his most talented and loyal military officers with the land. Power in the North would now be firmly centralized in the king, rather than scattered among jealous and competing families. Soon, that would be true of all Aperans.

For now, he filled his dungeon with the same people who had been in the castle as guests a day earlier. His dungeon, in fact, overflowed with an abundance of new prisoners. Sometime this week he would have to see to making more space with a round of executions.

In addition to the new baronial captives, he sent a dozen of the castle's servants and guards to the dungeon, thanks to the new queen's ability to surveil the thoughts of entire rooms full of people. The day after the betrothal, Zyrdicia had unexpectedly sensed disloyal sentiments as she walked through the halls, and thereby unearthed a ring of southern spies. Once she had found the first few, it had been a trivial matter for her to find their co-conspirators.

Dirk was furious to learn that spies had infiltrated Castle Blackpool. He even found a traitor amid the ranks of his elite torture troopers. Much to her annoyance, he eventually insisted that every single servant and castle guard be brought before Zyrdicia for mental inspection. For the first time in Karteian history, mere thoughts of betrayal became sufficient grounds for execution. Thanks to the queen, he could now rest assured that every single servant in the castle was unequivocally devoted to him.

The spy ring had been around for at least a year. Zyrdicia had previously never bothered to look into the minds of guards and servants. She found them too boring to bother with. Now, however, she had little choice. It was exceedingly difficult for her to avoid their thoughts.

This episode had been the first Dirk had learned of Zyrdicia's new involuntary perception. Though he knew she found the new sensation intrusive and a bit baffling, he considered it extremely practical. No one in the castle could plot against him now.

He smiled to himself as he began to plan an appropriate way to kill the various traitors. Dirk's mind wandered to thoughts of his favorite hobby. Now that Zyrdicia was back, he looked forward to the executions even more than he otherwise would. She was and infinitely more enjoyable companion down in the dungeon than Vector ever could be.

Tonight there would be victims aplenty for Zyrdicia to exercise her unique creativity and talent. The new king of the North chuckled to himself as he realized most husbands needed only supply their wives with beautiful wardrobes and jewels to make them happy. His, however, required brutality and a body count.

* * *

19.3

In the late afternoon, Dirk retreated to a couch set into a vaulted bay window of the castle's library. No one would think to look for him in a hidden corner the library. He had left his study after killing the third servant who had interrupted him with a needless question. Lately, he thought nothing at all of reducing an annoying servant to a pile of sizzling goo. He hated to be interrupted when he had tedious work to do.

With the monocle, it was almost too easy to kill annoying servants now. Zyrdicia's presence somehow increased his effectiveness with it. Frequent mental engagement with her had certain magical dividends with the monocle - his ability to funnel his will through the device simply functioned more smoothly. In the weeks during her absence, the psychic muscle required for the monocle had grown weak from disuse. Now that she was again in his possession, the monocle responded almost immediately.

The near-constant mental caresses and thoughts projected into his head left him psychically drained. He was pleased to feel this exhausted again though. She had been gone far too long. This time of day, Zyrdicia hopefully would be in her chambers sleeping. He hoped she slept all day. Dirk frankly needed the break it afforded him from her. He had several urgent matters to attend to. Since her return a few nights ago, she had utterly monopolized his attention.

She had not left Castle Blackpool since their betrothal. There were no more midnight disappearances, no senseless jaunts to Lyr, not even forays into the killing fields in Camerand. She seemed only too eager to stay close by him - "close" meaning she could not be in the same room without touching him somehow. It was impossible to have any conversation at all without her initiating some form of contact. At the very least, she always seemed to have a hand on his forearm, shoulder or posterior. Most of the time it was much more.

Such behavior from anyone else would be murderously irritating. From her, though, the hyperbolic tactile affection was neither unwelcome nor particularly unpleasant - though he would have never admitted that to her. In fact, he made an effort to snarl about it occasionally. Snide complaints, however, were purely for sport. She ignored them, and the fact of the matter was he rather liked the attention. More importantly, it was quite obvious that she needed the contact somehow - and neediness was a strategically useful thing. It actually served his purposes quite well.

The new king remembered well the section of Zyrdicia's biography detailing her isolation in her youth. He had reread that section of the book several times - less as a source information about her past than as a source of insight in how to manipulate her. Her demonic mentor had masterfully established her psychological dependence by isolating her, locking her away from human associates. The subterranean elves had kept their distance for the most part, leaving her to rely on the demon for companionship. Her recent decimation of her social network in Lyr presented a practical benefit to her husband.

Dirk thus resolved to permit no nascent friendships with the population of Aperans. With care and subtlety, he suspected it would be quite possible to make her just as isolated as she had been in her youth. Her relationship with Portia was already vulnerable, given what he knew about Portia's grandfather. Charles and Anthony had been spending increasingly more time in Geshna. They would be easy to dispose of there eventually. With no source of new companions, she would be ideally dependent.

Dirk sighed heavily, forcing himself to refocus on the matters before him. The return of his favorite toy made concentrating on his kingdom's domestic affairs difficult, to say the least. He spread a sheaf of papers before him on a small table in the library, blinking in annoyance at the sea of numbers that comprised this section of Cai's plan for the currency conversion.

He had already spent all morning figuring out how much information the spies might have transmitted. His first task had been to reorganize the castle's security. He then carefully pieced together every strategic fact to which each individual might have had access - from the lowliest kitchen servant to the most senior castle guard. He was satisfied now that very little of value could have reached his enemies.

As though the discovery of the spies were not enough, the purging of the aristocracy had created something of a headache for Dirk. Peasants in the effected areas were, of course, ecstatic. The fools viewed it as some sort of divine mercy from the new king. The new military governors he appointed required detailed instructions on how to deal with it.

He frowned, forcing himself to refocus. The currency conversion plan was enormously complex. Every kolna in circulation would have to somehow be exchanged for the new plats. Peasants and aristocrats alike would be forced to surrender the kolnas for the pre-ordained transfer rate.

Dirk went through the tedious details methodically. He loathed this sort of task. Unfortunately, though, he could trust no one else with it. He wanted nothing more than to commence his final attack on the South -- right away. Until his domestic affairs were in order, however, he did not dare. His coup was too fresh, his reign too new, for him to risk focussing his attention entirely on the war with Camerand at the moment.

19.3.1

Out of the corner of his eye, Dirk saw a shadow fly up from the floor to the ceiling. He turned his head quickly, reaching for the monocle. He thought he was alone in the library.

To his surprise, Zyrdicia was there, levitating up along a shelf near the ceiling, some forty feet in the air. She found the book she wanted then returned gracefully to ground. She blew an enormous cloud of dust off the green cover.

"Hi," he greeted coldly, irritated at the interruption.

She squinted as her eyes followed his voice. The clouds had burned off, leaving the afternoon terribly bright. Direct sunlight poured in through the window behind him. Her sensitivity to it had become much worse since her return from the Astral Plane. When she walked in a room, the first thing she often did now was dim whatever light source illuminated the space. She had insisted that servants light fewer candles and put shades on oil lamps. Excessive illumination gave her a headache. Sunlight was by far the worst.

Right now, she could not see Dirk at all. She could smell him, though. She could also hear his pulse all the way across the room. She covered her eyes with her hands, then turned sharply away from the window, momentarily sun-blind.

Dirk watched her frustration for a moment, intrigued. Eventually he reached up and tugged on a sash behind him. Heavy damask curtains fell over the window, darkening the room. "What are you doing here?"

"I followed your scent here," she answered, facing him now that she could do so without sacrificing her vision. She stared for a moment, still blinking as her eyes recovered from the sunlight.

"Well, what do you want?" he demanded impatiently.

"I can't sleep, and I'm bored."

After awakening from the coma, her sleep pattern had become chaotic. She seemed to need more sleep lately, but it often eluded her. If she slept at all, it would be in his quarters early in the morning, and even there, she slept much more fitfully than she once had. She tossed and turned now, where once she had been so still in sleep she could have passed for dead. Her dreamworld had invaded her slumber, despite another soul's presence in the room. She averted every conversation about the subject, though it was becoming increasingly difficult to deny.

She did not wait to be invited to join him on the couch. She saw his annoyed expression and frowned. "What did I do now?"

"You can't stay. I need to concentrate."

"On?"

"The new coinage."

"So concentrate. I'm going to read."

He cocked his head skeptically and glared.

"I am!"

Dirk pulled the book from her hand, turning it to read the spine. The title made him smile, despite his annoyance at the interruption. It was a companion volume to the Bleak's Fairy Stories book he had found in her home.

"I didn't know there was a second volume until today," she smiled.

"Four in all, actually."

"Where are the rest then?"

"Check Geoffrey's room. He was obsessed with a princess in the fourth volume. He might have kept the third one too." He added in a mocking tone, "How charming that you have the same reading habits as my brother."

"Better to share the same reading material than the same genetic material," she muttered as she settled into her book.

Dirk leaned forward over a table covered with his documents, biting back a remark about what he knew of her family. He glanced up a few minutes later. She was watching him. Having her here at all was distracting enough -- staring at him was unbearable. "Read or leave!" he barked impatiently.

"If you get through the currency plan, does that mean you're free for the rest of the afternoon?"

"Perhaps." His tone was deliberately neutral. He knew full well now that getting rid of her in order to get work done was virtually impossible now that she knew where he was. Conceding defeat in this regard might at least preserve a victory over the task at hand. He asked cautiously, "If I were to be free then, would you let me be so that I could finish this?"

She smiled impishly, "No!"

"Then I have no time for you now or later this afternoon," he replied icily.

"I won't let you be because you need my help to finish it. I've done this sort of money transformation before. I know how to make it work."

"Come here then," he beckoned curtly, gesturing to the documents.

"But I'll continue to annoy you and distract you if you don't give me what I want," she grinned.

"I'm in no mood to negotiate with you," he warned.

"I'll only help you if you promise to entertain me as I please as long as I can't sleep."

"As you please?!"

She nodded expectantly. "Do we have a deal?"

His eyes bored into her as he calculated. It was no use trying to ignore her. She would give him no rest, and she certainly would not leave now that she had his attention. At least he would get through the damned documents. "Just until dinner," he conceded reluctantly. His expression hardened. "And only if I am pleased with the value of your assistance with the currency documents."

"Agreed." She set the book down, then promptly reordered the papers on the table. Convoluted transactions that would have taken him hours to piece together, she elucidated in mere minutes. Then she proceeded to go through and point out every misunderstanding and shortcoming of Cai's current plan. They struck through and revised enormous portions of it with quick precision. She had saved him hours of tedium, and foreseen problems he never would have contemplated. How she managed to deal with its complexity given her attention span, he could not fathom. "Where did you learn how to do this?" he frowned.

"I learned by playing. Each act of profit is like a little kill -- ideally, someone suffers on the other end." Her tone took a hopeful edge as she added, "You're done now?"

He nodded, draping an arm around her shoulder. Entertaining her was easy enough, after all. Besides, she really had saved him a great deal of aggravation. He purred, "Shall we go down to the dungeon then?"

"No."

Dirk arched an eyebrow in surprise. He studied her expression, trying to discern what it was that she wanted from him. His lips curled smugly as a thought occurred to him. "Very well, then. Let's retire to my quarters for a few hours."

Zyrdicia shook her head emphatically, then laughed. "It's not always about that!"

He blinked it confusion. "Isn't it?"

"I will admit to 'often' but not to 'always.' Right now I want something else from you." She smiled slyly and handed him the green book.

He glanced from the book to her face, still not comprehending what she wanted.

"Read to me," she nudged.

Dirk smirked, certain she was not serious. It was inconceivable she would really want to sit here and listen to fairy stories. It had to be a jest. Any second she would surely burst out laughing and demand to go play in the dungeon.

She ignored his expression and pushed him to lean back against the couch. She slipped off her shoes, then stretched out, sprawling across his lap. She opened the book to the first story, then wriggled to get comfortable. As she wriggled, pain raced unexpectedly from her shoulder blades down her back. It lasted only an instant. She ignored it, refusing to acknowledge it. She pointed to the page impatiently, "You promised!"

"No."

"Yes, you did."

"I will not do this. Read it yourself!"

"Please?"

"My dear, we have reduced five southern provinces to ruin and bathed Camerand in bloodshed. We cause terror. Can you imagine what the world would think if it knew you wanted-"

"-I couldn't care less what the world knows before I destroy it!" she interrupted, punctuating the pronouncement with a sweet smile.

He looked around the library carefully to be certain it was empty, scarcely able to believe he was considering doing this. He would be mortified if anyone were to know. He snatched the book out of her hand and glared at her. He looked at the opened page. "I'm not reading that one. I hate that one! It's full of spiders."

"You pick then."

He flipped through impatiently, struggling to remember them. It had been many, many years since he had seen this book. He finally found a story he remembered quite vividly. The monster won in the end. It was an installment of the Great Green Ogre story she already knew. It would do.

When he started reading, she nestled contently against him, watching each page as a child would. That prompted him to change the story and embellish the copious violence to an absurd degree. His creativity earned an immediate giggle from her.

"That isn't right!" she laughed.

"Shh. Do not interrupt!"

"But how could the spike on the ogre's tail have impaled the white knight through the stomach if he was facing the other direction?"

"It was a very long tail!"

"Oh. Did it just poke a hole, or slice him open?"

"It tore the aspiring hero's abdomen open, spilling his entrails."

"Hm. That's always such a mess."

"The ogre had a pet Wizard responsible for scrubbing the floors in such circumstances. It was of no concern."

"Did he have the Wizard's monocle too?"

"Of course."

"Then what?"

"Stop interrupting, and I will tell you, my impatient one!"

Her laughter subsided by the third story. She stopped watching the page and closed her eyes, listening complacently. She was asleep before he finished it. He closed the book quietly and set it aside. She lay with both hands beneath her cheek to protect it from the metal studs in the leather covering him. It had never occurred to her that one did not snuggle up against murderous, armor-clad warlords.

The cruelest creature he had ever known, her deceptive angelic demeanor in sleep still amused him after all these months. She had not even been back a full week; it was as though she had never been gone. He was yet again at her mercy for every inane form of diversion that struck her fancy. The most annoying aspect of it for him was not that she had somehow convinced him to read foolish children's stories to her, but that she had somehow convinced him to enjoy doing it.