Mandi was silent at the breakfast table, eyes downcast, as she ate. A part of her kind of wished her food had poison so she could be over and done with this life. The other part wanted to wake into magic like everyone else, earn a little of her mother’s respect back the easy way, and start the journey to becoming as powerful of a magician as possible. With the power, no one would control her life, force her to marry scum, or get in her way whenever she wanted to visit friends from another town.
Strawberry red hair that fell just a little past her neck, short and petite, yep, that was her, the most powerless Wingston girl. She didn’t want to feel sorry for herself. Working and common people had it worse, after all.
But she’d so much rather be a commoner, working daily to earn money to eat, than be a prisoner to scheming, backstabbing nobles. How did she live this way? As much as she wanted to naïvely believe that if all nobles and commoners sat at the same table to chat, they’d find common ground, this was simply not the case. Mandi was… odd. She never had a real distaste for any lower classes in the first place. Ever since she left Kyushu and returned, getting placed on home restriction as well as thrown against the wall a few times by her mother’s magic, the girl only spoke to Howie. Mostly out of fear. Also, her mother forbade the other family members from treating her like a proper Wingston, but a servant under punishment.
Mandi was no damsel and she tried to stand up to bullying relatives, but the only ones who bullied her just happened to be magicians. Since her mother confiscated her magical items and protections, the girl lived at the mercy of anyone who felt like thrashing her that day.
The letter to Nate… she felt foolish for telling him anything. They hadn’t known each other for that long, so he was under no obligation to care, except for the third party delivering his goods. Hector would surely keep his word.
Sitting at her table were all of her immediate family members, probably for the first time in a long time. Even the servants were surprised. At the head of the table sat her mother, the Red Star, Gwendolyn Wingston. At the opposite head was her father, Manthis Wingston. Then filling in the spots were her siblings, Hector, her eldest brother, and Rose, her eldest sister. Close to Rose sat Mandi’s scheming middle sister, Yani, and then her bully of a middle sister, Elise. Next to Mandi were her cousins Winn and Lou, invited to breakfast by Rose, which meant they couldn’t reject the invitation of the eldest daughter of the Red Star.
The meal was silent at first, to Mandi’s relief. If the attention stayed off her, she could simply eat, dismiss herself from the table and return to her duties as a house-restricted scribe. She couldn’t eat fast enough!
Gwendolyn broke the silence, her voice deceptively calm, collected, mature, but beneath it carried an edge of authority.
“I heard an interesting rumor last night,” she began. “A troubling one to some, but amusing nonetheless.”
All eyes were on her. Even Mandi looked at her, though the girl couldn’t help but be thankful she didn’t hold the attention for once.
“Word got out from the capital that the hero’s party disappeared in the cover of the night, even after promising the Lord Ruler he’d remain in the capital for at least a year.”
“That can’t be good,” Manthis said. “Are you sure he didn’t catch wind of a threat?”
“Don’t be dense, dear,” Gwendolyn said. “Any threat would’ve alerted the Lord Ruler too, who is arguably far more powerful than that brat and his party.”
“So they just left because, what? They were bored?” Manthis asked.
“Perhaps,” Gwendolyn said. “Perhaps not. I have not a bone in my body to care. It is mere entertainment and just another vacant spot in the game of houses. What’s even more interesting is the princess’s reaction.”
“I’m not sure why she’s still smitten with the hero,” Manthis said. “He rejected her in the name of duty.”
“You’ve been married to me how long, and still don’t understand women. Especially those with uncanny amounts of pride. She made it her goal to be the wife of the hero for some childish reason and will not take no for an answer.”
Rose sighed. “I’d run too, if I were in his shoes. That girl gives me the creeps.”
“The hero’s likely not fond of dating a woman that can squash him like a bug,” Manthis said, gaining a smirk from his wife.
“He probably isn’t a smooth-talking, masochistic youth like a certain someone,” Gwendolyn quipped. Manthis glared at his wife but said nothing. The breakfast began to feel both gross and awkward to Mandi. She did not want to hear about her parents’ private matters from their young days. Ew!
Unfortunately, the subject changed for the worst.
“As I was saying,” Gwendolyn continued. “That missing spot of power is perfect to insert our own little puppets. With Gaston’s influence, we’ll net our family some serious power, perhaps even make our way into the Lord Ruler’s little circle.”
“You’re still eyeing that position as a judge, I see,” Manthis said.
“Of course,” Gwendolyn said with a shrug. As all eyes turned to Mandi, the Red Star finally looked at her, a gaze so cold, the girl could only strain to not shudder or even cry.
The cruel smile that curled her lips contained ten thousand warnings.
“You just make sure to be a good little wife to the Astral man,” Gwendolyn said. “Perhaps succeeding well enough and gaining influence of your own will bring forth your own source of honor and dignity.”
Mandi choked down her rage. Sure, Gwendolyn wouldn’t kill her little tool for being out of line, but she’d still bash the girl around a lot. Some of the others would consider burning her with their flames, even at the risk of angering Hector and Rose.
“Do I make myself clear?” Gwendolyn asked.
Mandi noticed the dark looks in the eyes of her eldest siblings and really didn’t want to cause them more trouble, so she nodded.
“He’s complaining about not being able to take her purity,” Elise said, laughing. “Perhaps if she spreads her legs, he’ll start tossing gold at her.”
Mandi’s hands moved on their own as she smashed her plate of food into Elise’s face. Unfortunately, the anger wouldn’t help her against a magician. Elise threw her across the table with magic.
Mandi hit the floor, back-first, almost blacking out. Flames began to fall upon her, only to be snuffed out.
“That’s enough,” Gwendolyn said. “Servants, clean up this mess. Mandi, return to your duties.”
Mandi was kind of surprised she got off so easily but couldn’t complain. Her mother’s good mood couldn’t be easily shaken by siblings fighting.
“This isn’t over, mortal whore,” Elise muttered as Mandi walked by. Yani, her other middle sister, only snickered, probably devising enough schemes to bring down their mother’s wrath on the two of them.
“You’re going to answer to karma one day with such mistreatment of your little sister,” Hector barked at Elise.
“And what’s little miss powerless going to do, besides cry?” Elise said. “You know what you’re in for in this family. I’m aiming for the top. Making sure mortals, even Father, know their place is just how things are.”
“Harassing someone with no magic will only prove how unfit you are for any important positions,” Rose snapped. “How can you treat your sister like this?”
“A little character building isn’t proof of anything,” Elise sneered. “If anything, you two spoiling that worthless little twat will be more problematic than Mother and Father’s bedroom past.” She stormed out of the dining room.
Mandi groaned as she made her way to the office. She nodded at Howie along the way.
“Good morning, Mistress.”
“Good morning, Howie,” she said, her voice whirling with depression. “If only it was actually a good morning.”
“Mistress.”
Mandi tried not to turn around, but Howie walked in front of her and froze at the tears. He pulled the redhead into his chest and let her cry.
The feeling of cool, crisp air blowing against us as we soared miles in the air on Beakwing’s back felt amazing.
“Will you try for a trade agreement with a merchant or fellow potion maker while you’re here?” Milia asked.
The wind didn’t intercept her voice, not even a bit, almost as if it wasn’t blowing at all. Guessing she infused her voice with a little mana, I pulled only a fraction of a fraction of it from my core, directed through what I imagined as special glowing veins on arms, like magic pathways. This little concept wasn’t something new, but incredibly helpful for controlling my abilities.
“That’s not a bad idea,” I said. “Maybe we should stay for one night, let Beakwing rest, and then rescue our princess. Unless it’s possible to do all of these things in a day, hopefully without giving ourselves away.”
“People will certainly see us, that’s for sure, including the guards at the gate,” Milia said. “If the Red Star’s in town, you’ll most certainly anger her.”
“That we will, but after what I read in that letter, I’m not really in the mood to care what she thinks,” I said. “Besides, she may not be so bad. After realizing something important.”
“Like her powers not doing anything to you,” Milia said, grinning.
“Fingers crossed she won’t resort to that,” I said. “I’m picking up my apprentice and leaving. Well, telling her that as a random man that only looks to be a few years older than her is going to raise some questions. Thank God you’re here with me.”
Milia laughed. “What is that line of thinking?”
“Perception,” I told her. “I’m sure not everyone in the city’s going to villainize us, right?”
Beakwing let out a snort. I snickered at the perfect timing.
When we slipped into silence, I contemplated Milia’s words. Now would be a good as a time as any to at least check out our competition.
“What if we just sneak her away during the dead of the night?” I wondered aloud.
“Then her mother will assume she came to the town and burn it to the ground looking for her,” Milia said.
“She could try, but if the kingdom listens to this city’s request for escorts for magician criminals, then certainly they’d be quite angry with them burning down an entire town for one person.”
“Normally you’d be correct, but she’s a magician and a powerful one,” Milia said. “Given how she’s arranging political weddings with Astral Empire men points to the fact that she’s got enough influence to make the kingdom overlook her tantrums.”
My head was already beginning to ache due to the politics, and I already mentally began to toss them toward an imaginary bonfire. Knowing my luck, and abducting a noble daughter, I would surely get dragged into something.
Unless I simply didn’t get seen. No… the Red Star’s first place to search would be the town.
“You’d think she’d just send people in her stead,” I told Milia. “It’s a four-day trip. Or less, I guess, if she pushes the horses, but a woman like that should have more important matters than wasting time dictating her youngest daughter’s choices in life.”
“Not when it comes to arranging marriages for political power,” Milia said. “But you clearly know that.”
I sighed. “I’m just hoping to work out a solution that doesn’t end with us coming to blows. I’m not a pacifist and will do what must be done, but if I can get some kind of support from House Wingston instead, it could pave our way for many business opportunities.”
Milia’s eyes widened. “Thinking far ahead, I see. The only way I can see that happening is finding her eldest siblings and chatting them up.”
I looked at her, feeling exciting. “You’re right. Instead of starting trouble right away like a dingus, I should talk with her siblings first. Just the two we met. Perhaps they’ll tell us the full story. Or not have a reason to, and try to toss us in the dungeon.”
Milia shot me a flat stare. “If you keep being pessimistic like that, you’ll end up tying yourself up in a long strand of annoying thoughts, hindsight, and what-ifs. It’s try, or go with the original kidnapping plan.”
I shrugged. “You drive a hard point.”
“No need to overthink this,” Milia said.
About an hour or so later, we began to see glimpses of a city on the horizon. They called it a small city or a true town, but it looked to be several times the size of Kyushu. Even from above, I could just tell it was bustling with activity.
“What’s that? You’re going to buy me a caramel apple? You’re the best, love,” Milia said, and it was my turn to stare at her blankly before I sighed in defeat.
“Fine, we can go out for treats for a little while,” I told her. “There’s no rush to get fireballed in the face.”
Milia smiled. “It’s good to see you have no desire to suck the fun from this trip after all.”
I laughed. “After working nearly nonstop to establish something back in Kyushu, I’d be crazy to turn down some treats. Although, you did make every day fun for me.”
Milia’s sudden kiss almost made me fall off the griffin. She grinned and, for a second there, I saw a little consideration in those eyes, you know, to ditch Kyushu’s tradition. But then she seemed to shake herself within and the flushing stopped. I sat back up. We made it this far and sure, intimacy was an important part of every relationship, but I had a feeling there was an award for both of us at the end of this tunnel. Don’t ask me how I knew, think of it as… a sixth sense. The nightly cuddling did ease things a bit, so the whole waiting thing wasn’t that big of a deal. I certainly wasn’t some kind of desperate teenager. Milia would be my wife. The tradition thing was her idea, anyway. But, intrigued, I didn’t mind going along with it. As I told her, she was worth the wait and then some.
“Beakwing, make sure you land in front of the gates,” I said. “I’m pretty sure there’s some kind of a checkpoint.”
“There is, but we don’t need any traveling papers,” Milia said. “Just tell them you’re a new potion maker and looking to buy goods or something. They’ll let you pass without any hassle. A big city would charge an entrance fee.”
Because of course these cities would have tolls. That brought another thought to mind.
“Do I need some kind of permit?” I asked.
“Only if you intend to sell in the city,” Milia said.
“Oh.”
When we landed, the two guards were surprised only for a moment at my griffin, but simply asked my business in the city. I told them I was a potion maker and traveling with my betrothed to do some shopping. One of the guards… congratulated us.
“You don’t have to congratulate them, Jerry,” the first guard deadpanned. He waved us through, shaking his head. “Next! Wanda’s curvy bottom, it’s been a long day.”
“Beakwing, you can fly around and stretch your wings a bit, hunt or something. Be back within an hour, maybe two or… three hours,” I told the griffin.
He huffed cheerfully, purred, then took off. Everyone gaped at us for a bit. The lead guard cleared his throat and resumed his job. Jerry simply grunted.
We stepped through the gates to noise, busy people, multiple scents of food, merchants shouting their products, kids playing. General festivity. The first place we stopped at, mostly due to Milia’s insistence, was the caramel apple stall, of course.
“Two please,” I said, handing over the coppers, plus additional coppers to tip. The woman at the stand thanked us as she handed over the treats. I wasn’t sure what kind of voodoo or magic the lady performed, but goddamn, the apples were amazing. Did Mandi devour these a lot? What kind of question was that? Of course she did.
To be honest, I waited for some of the cliché events to happen. You know, the rando pickpocket, the in-town bandit that would try to rob us. Nothing of the sort happened; the day went great. Aside from a little excitement during a quick lunch, involving a dickhead noble. Fortunately, I wasn’t actually involved in this ordeal. Milia convinced me to go to a tavern for a little afternoon wine. Knowing damn well this was pretty much a date, I obliged, and we had a good time. Grilled snack foods and decent wine for the commoner area. Not that I knew much about what made a fine wine. I worked at Home Depot, for fuck’s sake.
A well-dressed man at least my age suddenly walked in with a small group. They took a seat at a table near a scrawny boy just barely an adult, who read and drank, minding his own business. A beautiful waitress served him first, since he was already there. The fucking noble sneered at her. His idiotic men did the same.
“How dare you not serve me first, wench! I am the son of Count Anders, Von! Serving a peasant before me is a great insult and I want my dues now. Kowtow and maybe I’ll let you apologize by… by… ma… magician!”
The waitress conjured a fireball the size of a fucking truck.
“What’s a Wingston doing working at a place like this?” Von wheezed.
The fire turned into electricity, which hummed, each arc a brilliant blue-white.
“I’m not a Wingston. Now get out or die,” the waitress said coldly. “I do not have time to deal with little boys today.”
The nobles ran for their lives. And yes, I noticed the suspicious stain in the middle of one of their pants. The waitress sighed, allowing the magic to dissipate.
“I apologize for that,” the waitress told the reading boy. In fact, it was then I noticed that he hadn’t stopped reading until the waitress magician set down a bowl of soup in front of him.
“Where did you take me, Milia?” I deadpanned.
Milia smiled innocently.
