NONE SO VILE

22: Weight of the World

Joléport, Rennaire, 1809.

Four Years Later.

Leon was lost. His body ached with sensation even as he spun in the throes of his warped mind, struggling to grab hold of exactly where he ended, and Alabaster began.

“Crawl for me, puppy." The words rang like a bell in his ears, and he could not have disobeyed even if he'd wanted to. Looking down, Leon tried to catch his breath, his hard cock swinging between his thighs. Each paw padded over the other as he crawled on all fours, his body's movements clumsy as it was puppetted along by Alabaster's command. He felt like a perfectly fit glove, stretched taut around the dragon's claw.

“Look at me." His head swung upwards, taking in the glorious sight of his dragon master. Alabaster stood over him like a great tower of marble, white scales shining in the torchlight of their room, the red accents defining his muscles. At his hips, his thick red cock stood firm, pulsing with anticipation, a thin drop of clear precum falling from the tip to land on the end of Leon's muzzle. Quickly, the jaguar's pink tongue shot out to lap it up, unbidden. It tasted sharp and salty, and a thin shudder ran through him as he swallowed. It was a pleasure to serve.

Alabaster reached down, cupping Leon's chin in one claw and gently tilting his head up a little more, so that their eyes met. When their gaze met the hypnotic sorcery was even stronger. Leon stared into Alabaster's eyes so deeply he perceived it as going through them, looping around and looking back down at himself simultaneously, on all fours, quivering, utterly overcome with lust.

Alabaster was the master, that was all that mattered. Leon could let go, and simply enjoy being carried along as he served nothing but the dragon's desire. He did not matter, he did not think, he only obeyed.

That freedom was an indescribable bliss. It was a sensation that enveloped every inch of Leon's body, tingling over his shoulders and pinching at the base of his spine. To let Alabaster into his mind was to turn the dragon into a kind of bulwark. Leon became a thing, and not an emperor. He was obedient, mindless, and the worries and fears that plagued him every moment of every day could crash uselessly against the rocks of Alabaster's control.

The dragon sat back on the end of their bed, still cupping Leon's chin. Now he'd aimed the jaguar's head lower down, right at his quivering cock.

“Do you want it?" Alabaster asked, softly, barely more than a whisper.

Leon let out a low whine.

“Use your words."

He swallowed. “Y-yes, sir."

By way of permission, Alabaster opened his legs slightly wider. Leon was devoid of thought, acting completely on instinct. His body moved outside of himself, crawling forwards to the dragon's wordless command. His paws clung to the powerful thighs as he dragged himself up closer, breathing in the faint mixture of iron and smoke he'd come to know was Alabaster's natural scent.

“Wait." Leon froze, his lips inches from Alabaster's tip. His entire body was trembling, his cock twitching in anticipation. He could barely breathe, the desire was so all-encompassing. It was as if his only goal in life was to taste that dick, to wrap his lips and tongue around it and let his muzzle be fucked, be used.

“Puh…" Leon found his tongue was clumsy, almost numb. He felt Alabaster's excitement bleed through their link, felt just how achingly hard it made the dragon to see him so defenceless and eager. “P-please…"

Alabaster's face split in two as he grinned with wicked-sharp teeth, forked tongue darting out to snake across his front fangs. “Go on then."

Leon was like a man to water who'd never drank. He fell upon the dragon's cock, the rough strip of his tongue curling around Alabaster's pointed tip. A low purr rose in his throat as he felt the dragon's pleasure even as he sucked and lapped. Alabaster grunted, and Leon slid his mouth down along the smooth shaft. All he could think about was obeying his master – Leon couldn't have said his own name then, he was so entirely consumed with the hypnotic command.

“Mfff, ah," Alabaster sighed, shifting back as he slowly thrust his hips up into Leon's maw. “You like that, puppy?" Claws dug into the back of the jaguar's head, and he felt himself pushed down harder, giving over control of the pace. Alabaster's cock filled his mouth, slick as it slid along his tongue, the head pushing up into the top of his throat. He grunted, balls tightening beneath his body as the dragon roughly fucked his face.

His paw slipped down, trailing between their limbs and wrapping around his own cock, precum squelching in his fingers as he squeezed.

“No." Alabaster's command was like a whip, and Leon's fingers instantly released his dick, practically stinging as his paw drew away against his will. “Come closer."

Again he became a passenger, crammed into his own body and stuck frozen behind his eyes. He watched as his body climbed forward, straddling Alabaster even as the dragon laid back on the plush bed. He felt himself sitting atop the dragon, swaying numbly, expression slack as he remained tightly entranced in the grip of hypnosis.

“You finish when I say you can, isn't that right?" Alabaster's voice curled around him, seeming to come from every direction, louder than any sound Leon had ever heard before.

He nodded stupidly, resting back on his knees and sighing as he felt the dragon's dick press between the cheeks of his ass. How badly he wanted to ride it. Nothing else mattered. He strained against the limits of his entrancement, if only to revel in how tight the bonds were keeping him in place.

Alabaster's claws came forward, sliding slowly up his thighs. They squeezed at his hips, fingers combing through the thick bronze fur. The left claw trailed over the front of Leon's abdomen, pressing firmly as it snaked down, agonisingly close to his trembling cock.

“You want it so badly… I've never seen someone so eager before…"

“Ah, mff…" Leon closed his eyes, groaning deep as Alabaster's cool fingers squeezed at his balls. They pulled his sack down, just tight enough that it almost hurt, but not quite. The dragon's mind clung to his own like a vine, curling through every inch of his awareness. He could smell himself, the musk and sweat radiating off him. He felt the pulsing lust in both their cocks, the heat from where their limbs touched burning like fire into the dragon's cold blood. Their hearts raced, beating together.

Alabaster's right claw slid up the front of his chest. Leon leaned down to allow him to reach, feeling the sharp tips of those reptilian fingers skim over his ab muscles, pinching and exploring across his pecs, before gently caressing over his collar bone and settling around his neck.

“I want you," Alabaster growled. Leon believed it. He squeezed tight around the jaguar's neck, pulling him down suddenly so that their lips met. Leon's chest ached as their tongues intertwined, even as Alabaster's other claw tilted his hips up, pinching firm before pulling him back down onto his cock like Leon was a sheath.

“Unf," Leon grunted into the dragon's mouth, their kiss still intertwined. All sense of composure dissolved from there.

“Fuck, you feel good." Leon let go as a wave of pleasure smashed him to pieces. Alabaster's thick cock spread his hole open, stretching his walls out in a twisting mixture of ecstasy and pain. The dragon was not gentle, fucking him hard as he drove that long, red dick deeper inside again and again. He huffed as he did so, grunting and growling. He choked at Leon's throat, his other claw scratching at his back as he fucked up into the cat.

“You're so– ah, so big, sir."

“Unnf, take it, puppy." Alabaster growled. “Ah, like that, yes…"

Leon's own paws squeezed hard around Alabaster's shoulders as he moaned and whined, writhing on top of the dragon as he felt himself being used like a toy. His mind felt untethered, disconnected to either body. It was the raw sensation of pleasure, of knotted pre-orgasm-tension echoing through every inch of himself.

I love you. I need you. I love you. I need you. Those words were the closest part to a coherent sentence he was capable of making. His dick ached with the need to release, but he obeyed the hypnotic commands, refusing to touch himself as Alabaster fucked harder and faster.

“Mff, fuck, ah, huff," Alabaster hissed, chest rising and falling, both claws tight on Leon's hips now, raising the jaguar up as he pulled out, and slamming him back down with every thrust. There was no relief, no pause, just the constant slapping of scales on fur, the growls and purrs and bites.

“Take it,"

“Y-yes!"

“Fuck, ah, so… tight!"

“Mmf, fuck me, please, breed me!"

“Ah, ah!"

Leon doubled over, pressing his face into Alabaster's neck, whining as the pleasure began to eclipse him, spiralling to a point of uncontrol.

“Soon, ah, ah, soon puppy, mmf, yes," Alabaster hissed, slamming hard into him, pulling out nearly to his tip each time before viciously hilting himself again inside Leon's tight asshole. The pressure was so close to bursting, so much energy bundled up in the jaguar's crotch, waves of agony pressing up along the length of his cock every time, pinching painfully tight at his tip. “I'm… ah… just… ah… damn… fuck… L-Leon…"

Something finally snapped. Leon lurched dizzyingly as his orgasm hit, without any intervention from his own paws. The sudden burst of relief at his cock was a moment of blinding pain, and he cried out into Alabaster's neck as a hot rope of cum shot up along his shaft, spraying from his tip and splattering all up the dragon's stomach and chest. A drop had landed on his jaw, but Alabaster ignored it, slamming his own hips against Leon's rear with a final “mmff."

He grinded in deep, claws tensing fiercely as his own orgasm released. Leon shuddered again as he felt everything all at once. Alabaster's hot rope fired through the length of his cock, a shimmering lance of pleasure, even as he felt it swell slightly inside him, pooling within his hole. Then another jerk of his own as he came again, shooting out onto Alabaster's chest once more.

“Ah, huff."

“Fuck."

“Gah, unnf,"

“Yes, fuck…"

Alabaster, still shaking, finally relaxed his grip. At the same time, Leon sagged, the last shot of semen dribbling forth from the tip of his dick. He fell onto the dragon, seed squelching between them as Alabaster's cock slipped limply from his used hole.

“Ah…" Leon gasped, still panting, his body stinging in a kind of mental pins-and-needles, sensation and control slowly coming back to him. “Funny," he said, between deep breaths, head laid on Alabaster's chest. “With you gone, it almost feels… empty, just being me."

“I…" The dragon paused. “Never considered that." His claw traced a line up Leon's spine, pausing between his shoulder blades to push firmly into the muscle. “It is not often I get to speak with my hypnosis victims after our encounter. Typically, I prefer they do not remember the experience."

“Did you use it often?" Leon asked. He craned his neck up, watching the dragon's face. He only had a few minutes, three, or maybe four at most. Then it would all come back. The worry. The weight of the world settling on his shoulders.

But until then… just breathe… and enjoy this moment, spent in your lover's arms.

“I… probably more than I should have," Alabaster admitted. “Hypnosis is a curious thing. Obviously it is about control and yet it… isn't as total as the stories might have you believe. There is only so far it can go, without some permission."

“What's it like? To control another person like that?"

“Don't think of it as control, think of it like herding a sheep," Alabaster replied. “Tch, how can I explain? It's a meshing of threads, Leon. We all have the other within us, coursing inside our bodies and our minds, threading the pieces that make us up together. All I am doing is tugging on your threads, and convincing your body that it wants to do as I do."

Leon pushed up on the bed, grinning at him. If Alabaster's cold blooded cheeks had the capacity to blush, he suspected the dragon would have been bright red at that moment. “You sound almost ashamed!"

“No, never."

“You are! Tell me, Alabaster, would you do the same now? Bend some poor, innocent fool's mind to your will for an advantage?"

The dragon considered it, and the seriousness on his face made Leon's chest dance in delight. Alabaster always gave serious answers, no matter how blatantly flippant Leon's questions were.

“Not if they were innocent," Alabaster said, shrugging. “I don't care to take away people's agency like that… not unless it's truly unavoidable."

“My goodness," Leon shook his head. “We've actually made a good man out of you. What is next? Will gold fall from the skies?" He licked his teeth, sliding down Alabaster's body again. His paw cradled the dragon's soft dick, thumb pushing over the slit at its red tip. The last dredges of cum were still there, sticky and wet beneath Leon's pad. “Did you use it to fuck?"

“No."

“Oh, Alabaster, come now." Leon leaned down, planting a kiss at the base of the dragon's cock. “You tried to hypnotise me into fucking you. Don't think I don't remember that time in the tower, when you healed my leg?"

“That was nearly five years ago!"

“Answer the question, my love."

Alabaster sighed deeply, deflating. “Sometimes. But something so… intimate, it can't be forced too much, or you'll sever the connection. There needs to be an inherent desire. I find many people lock those kinds of thoughts away, bury them due to superstition, or archaic tradition, or whatever you prefer to call it. When I find it… I sometimes used it. Let them out of the cage they built for themselves, if only for a while."

Leon breathed in deeply. He could smell the smokey aura of Alabaster's crotch, and he wished – for a moment – that this was his entire world. No empire, no wars, no fucking diplomacy and politics… only this man.

“You were trying to find out if I was interested in you," Leon said, sticking his tongue out.

“I hate you."

“When it comes to you," Leon said, finally pushing himself up and sitting on the edge of the bed. “I have learned that hate is almost another word for love."

Naked, he braced his elbows on his shoulders. The fog of lust and hypnosis was clearing from his mind. He stared forwards, across the spacious bedroom the governor of Joléport had offered them, eyes going to the harbour, the orange haze of dawn shimmering on the placid water.

Kiberland is out there.

And like that, it was spoiled.

Leon pushed up from the bed with a sigh, padding over to the window. He leaned up against the frame, watching the ships. The return of his burdens was almost physical. It strained at his shoulder muscles, bit at his neck.

“Kiberland," he whispered, staring into the horizon. Fog covered the water out at sea, but he knew it was there. Go far enough across that channel and there it would be. His greatest enemy, the Kiber.

There had been peace between their two nations, for a short while. After Leon's coronation, he had swiftly cut the chaff out of Rennaire's government. Centralised, they could move even faster than before, and it wasn't long until Danegard and Yaravania surrendered. Kiberland had put up more of a fight, but eventually the old Kiber King had agreed to an armistice.

A staying of blood, if nothing more.

Even if it was thin, it was something.

But then the old Kiber King died. And young men are impatient and short-sighted. The war began anew as if nothing had happened, and still it raged to this day.

Leon flinched as Alabaster came up behind him. He was so deep in thought he hadn't even noticed the dragon, until he felt the claws wrap around his chest. Alabaster pressed against his back, his white scales smooth against Leon's bronze fur.

“Kiberland?" Alabaster asked. He knew the source of Leon's worries all too well.

“What else?" The jaguar replied tersely. He reached up, squeezing the claw at his collar. “The worst part is the certainty I feel. Every time my soldiers meet theirs, it plagues me. I could defeat them. I could shut that fool King up, burn his cities, and take his crown… if only it weren't for that damned channel."

Rennaire had better soldiers, but Kiberland had better ships. So the war was a perpetual stalemate. Kiberland would put men onto Leon's shores, and he would defeat them. Then Leon would send ships to dog the Kiber coast, and they would be sunk. No one made any progress, but still they warred back and forth. So what's the fucking point?

“Like two dogs tugging at a rope," Alabaster said. “One of you will have to let go eventually."

“It would be far easier if I didn't have Felise and Tar undermining me at every fucking turn," Leon snapped, the venom coming suddenly. “At least the Tarish have the decency to pretend they are obeying the trade terms. Felise deals openly with Kiberland, despite my orders!" He shook his head. “They think Yaravania will protect them, a nation I have cowed twice now. Danegard fell to us, as did Losaile, as did Yaravania… but Felise believes themselves above my laws? The arrogance is unbelievable."

“Perhaps they know something you don't," Alabaster said plainly. “You can beat a feral wolf into obedience, but you can never trust it. That was a mistake my owner made over me, the last he ever made. Yaravania is not your ally, nor your vassal, Leon – yet you plan to serve yourself up to them regardless. Tell me, should I mourn you, when the wolf closes its jaws around the neck you put in its teeth?"

Leon sighed. They had talked about it too many times now. Alabaster simply did not have the grasp of greater Midland politics that Leon did.

After he took the Losailan crown, and dismantled Thorn and Cielwen's independence, the other nations had seen their own fate coming. Instead of dooming their future, they chose to take his bargain; Leon would not interfere with their monarchy, nor would he aggress on them with his armies. In exchange, they would accept several standardised laws, they would respect his position as Emperor of Rennaire, and – most importantly – they would embargo all travel and trade from Kiberland.

The Kiber were a naval people, and their power came from money. If Leon could not bleed them with his sword, he would bleed them with his banks.

But that goes out the window when Felise betrays the terms. If Felise was trading, then they became the gateway for other nations to trade. The greed on display was palpable. Nobody liked the embargo – Kiberland was the source of many luxury goods and spices used all over Midland, but Leon knew it was a necessary sacrifice on the path to Rennairan glory. Midland must be united. The sooner we are, the sooner Kiberland will be forced to accept my terms, and this embargo may end.

“There is no other way," Leon said eventually. “You do not understand, my love, and you must trust that in this matter, I know best." In only a few hours, Leon would board a ship bound for Yaravania. A single mercantile ship, not an emperor's fleet. It was a mission conducted in secret, so he could visit the King and Queen in-person. They needed to hear him, to see him. It was highly unorthodox, but far easier than invasion.

I cannot trust an ambassador with a task this delicate. This negotiation has no room for half-measures. If you want something done well, you must do it yourself.

“It seems… a poorly calculated risk. That is my only point. They could kill you, and what then? Rennaire crumbles?"

He laughed. “They can try!" Quickly, he sobered. “If Rennaire's people were to fall without me, I would die well knowing their last act was avenging their emperor. Alabaster… I am the only living regicide. You do not understand the superstition the other monarchs have around the murder of one of their own."

“Then they could imprison you, torture you, give you over to the Kiber! I am certain they would have no issue executing you, Kiberland has never once accepted your authority. This is foolish, Leon."

“It is the only way," Leon repeated firmly. “The Yaravan court will hear the sense in my words. They know the consequences of defying me."

Just as Kiberland was buffered from Leon by water, Felise was buffered by Yaravania. Out on the coast, the country was well-defended, and a naval invasion would only expose Leon's armies to sniping from Kiberland. No, if he wanted any chance of successfully invading Felise, he would need to march through Yaravania once more.

If I had one wish, it would be to see the look on the Queen of Felise's face when I come waltzing through their supposed-barrier state. He grinned at the thought.

“And what if the Yaravan's refuse you?"

“Alabaster…"

“No! Listen to me, Leon, and for once think before you rashly charge in." Alabaster paused, his claws pulling back slightly. “Yaravania could well refuse you, they will fear that by allowing your armies into their lands you will turn on them, and force them into the same fate as Losaile and the others."

“They'll know," Leon said, his voice was low. “They have made the mistake of resisting Rennaire before. I will ask for permission, but they know too well that if they refuse me, then I will take it."

“And then the Church will give them every Angel they want to resist you."

“Let them!" Leon cried, finally pulling away from the dragon's grip. He went to the closet, beginning to dress, if only to give his paws something to do. “How many of their monsters have I killed now? There are only a hundred, eventually they will run out."

“At the cost of how many Rennairan lives?" Alabaster retorted.

“Alabaster," Leon growled, furiously buttoning his shirt. “I love you, but it is rich for you to preach to me about the sanctity of mortal life. Sacrifice must be made, that is what it means to war."

The dragon sighed, and Leon sensed the effort he made to keep his voice level. “I understand. But, are we being short-sighted by not even considering Kiberland's peace terms? I understand they are very harsh, I understand it isn't what you want, but if it meant an end to the fighting, even if we were put on the backfoot of trade then–"

“No!" Leon snapped, spinning back. “I have fought so hard to put Rennaire on top. This is my destiny, Alabaster, you have seen it yourself! Now that I am so close to reaching the zenith of my life you would cut me off at the knees?" He shook his head, letting out a tight breath. “What would all this pain and death be for, if we simply stepped back and let Kiberland dictate the future of Midland? I would be neglectful in my duty as emperor, I would be no better than Phillipe was."

“Be that as it may, by going to Yaravania you are putting yourself in danger," Alabaster said firmly, stepping forward. “And so you are putting all of Rennaire in danger. For what? An obsession with beating Kiberland, no, not even that, with beating everyone. Is it pride? Leon, if it is then you can tell me. Because truly, know that I understand pride."

“It's not about pride, it's about what has to be done." Leon released his anger. It was unfair to point it at Alabaster; the dragon only wanted to protect him. “I was born into the fatherland as it was dying, my love. I saw the dark waters bringing us blood and I stopped them. I won't stop now simply because things have become hard, not when I am so close. You say it is dangerous to go to Kiberland myself? What kind of leader would I be if I sent my men into war again and again without taking a moment of risk to my own life?"

Alabaster came forward suddenly, the worry plain on his sharp features. “At least let me come with you. I can protect you, and if Yaravania have an Angel waiting–"

“Then we would only both be dead," Leon shushed him. He reached out, taking the dragon by the hips and pulling him close. “It has been a while since you played the fretting wife, I almost missed it. I know you worry, but Gaspar will be with me, and he is as good a soldier as I am. You need to go back to Albedo. Keep the appearances up, Kiberland have spies in our home and they cannot learn I have gone to Yaravania until it is too late. I won't delay, and when I am back we can march right through, and into Felise. I hear the sun is wonderful out there." He traced a finger over the scales on Alabaster's shoulder blade. “It could do you well."

“It's only…" Alabaster deflated. “More war. You took the crown of Losaile and gave it to Deuxmoise. You took the independence of Cielwen and Thorn. Urdo is not even legally recognised as a country anymore. Koringrad is your ally and Tar is something in between. Leon… your empire is enormous. When will it stop? If you defeat Kiberland and make Gaspar their king, will you then go further north to find more nations to quarrel with? I… worry. Is it about personal glory, or truly what is necessary? That is all that I am asking."

“Of course not," Leon said. “This is about securing the future. For Rennaire, but also for all of Midland. Once we are at peace, I can work the statesmen in each nation, as I did for Rennaire. Pry power from the kings and give it to the people, make things more equal, more just. I cannot stop now. Do you understand? Not when I am so close."

Kazmar wouldn't have stopped now. They don't call you the Great for stopping.

Leon closed his eyes, and pushed his head against Alabaster's. The cool touch of the scales seemed to sap away the heat and tension of his own racing mind.

“I need you, Alabaster. I need you by my side… or I can accomplish nothing. Without you, I fear I am nothing."

“Please," the dragon scoffed, opening his eyes, the red pupils staring deep into Leon. “You were an undefeated general long before I met you."

“One day," Leon began softly. “One day, I will make you my queen. A true emperor's consort by law and tradition. I don't care about their jokes or their judgement. I love you. You understand?"

“I do." Alabaster took a moment, but finally whispered back. “And I love you."

It was dark when Leon's ship pulled into the Yaravanian harbour. He stood on the bow, braced over the railing, knuckles white as he clung to the soaked wood. The ship's motions were a torment upon his stomach. He glared at the water hatefully as the deck lurched beneath him. More than ten days spent vomiting up everything he ate, and the captain all the while claiming that this 'wasn't even bad'.

He heard the deck creak as someone approached, but didn't trust himself enough to actually turn his head back.

“Are you well, your Imperial Majesty?"

“Bastard," Leon said to nothing in particular, trying to spit out the foul taste on his tongue. He glanced aside as Gaspar joined him on the rail, the crocodile's stomach clearly at ease on the water. “Mark my words, Gaspar, once we are done with Kiberland, I will invade the sea. No man should have to suffer this torment."

The croc leaned over, giving the inky darkness a sharp look. “I fear there's more of them than us, sire."

Leon groaned, pushing his paw into the bridge of his nose. Gaspar was in a bulky outfit, but it was no wonder. He wore a long leather greatcoat, beneath which his signature four wheellock pistols would be stashed privateer-style. Atop his head sat a worn tricorn, a speck of dried bird shit crusted on one tab.

“I am concerned people may recognise you," Gaspar said.

“Bah," Leon scoffed. “Who would think to find the Emperor of Rennaire wandering through their market stalls? So long as we steer clear of ambassadors and the exceedingly rich, I am certain we will be fine."

“Yaravania," Gaspar shook his head out at the coastal city. “Never sat right with me, that we let them crawl away from the fight."

“Are you calling me weak?"

“No, never, sire," the crocodile quickly adjusted himself. “Only that I think they got off easy by showing us their bellies. There are… rumours… about the Yaravan King and Queen, not to mention the one the people call the Royal Tanner. Queer tidings, that talk of decadent parties and open lecherousness."

Leon sighed, glancing across to the croc. “You know they say the very same about my own court."

“A male consort is hardly the same thing as open debauchery," Gaspar said tersely, before adding. “Sire."

“Perhaps I will find common ground with them." Leon forced himself upright, legs wobbling beneath him. Hold, you weak bastards. “As a fellow degenerate, we might have a lot to talk about."

Gaspar hushed him. “Please, your majesty, you mustn't say things like that. It shames me to consider your enemies anything close to your equal."

“And you must stop calling me your majesty," Leon cautioned. “I have no doubts we won't be recognised, but that is certain to draw attention."

“Yes… very well."

Leon nodded, turning back to face the city. The ship was pulling into port now, sailors running out to take the guide ropes as it was hauled into dock. His stomach bubbled, and it was all Leon could do to keep his composure, staring forwards.

They must let me through, he thought, eyeing the evening lights of the city. It would be a shame to shell such a beautiful city.

Unlike Rennaire, the Yaravanian court had chosen to make its centre of power on the coast. Most likely due to the ancient alliances they'd held with Kiberland, and their history of effective navies.

Sanlóna was famous for its indulgent architecture. Wide and spacious, it was nestled naturally into the curvature of the Yaravanian coastline, every building forming a cohesive piece of a larger puzzle. The city was tiered, with the lowest buildings by the waterfront, and each proceeding layer rising higher and higher as they climbed the gentle hills. At the tallest point sat the Sanlónan Palace, a great keep built out of rich red sandstone. It was glamorous and colourful, with several ramparted towers and long, stained-glass windows. The palace glimmered even in the moonlight, the silver tree from Yaravania's coat-of-arms proudly stitched into their green and red flags.

Now this is a city ruled by people that love their land. Leon had given Losaile to Deuxmoise precisely due to the opposite of this. The old Losailan King had no love for his nation, nor his people. He didn't deserve to rule, and his constant whining and opposition to Leon's demands did him no favours. Yaravania takes their wealth, and pours it back into their home, as one should. He admired a nation with this much cohesion, it took a culture of common-goals to build so many complementary structures. One day, Albedo will outshine even Sanlóna. I will tear down the randomly erected spires, dismantle the cathedrals, and replace it all with ordered beauty.

So far, Leon's impressions were good. He was not blind to the advantage the city gave him either, for the love the monarchy had of their country could easily be poisoned into fear. If you love something, it can be taken away.

He did not want to brutalise Yaravania, but he would if that was what stood between him and victory.

The gangway dropped to the pier, and Gaspar was quick to usher Leon forward. The crocodile had connections in the city, and had found a small family place for them to stay until they met with the Yaravan court – shuttered away from prying eyes.

“You must make certain to stay close, sire," Gaspar said, as they finally touched solid ground again.

“Mhmm," Leon replied vaguely, mostly just flooded with relief that the ground was no longer moving beneath him.

“I mean it," Gaspar said, leaning in close. “Listen to what I say. We are taking an exceptional risk by coming here. I will not deny my emperor anything, but you must allow me to do my duty to you as well."

“Yes, yes," Leon said amicably, walking further down the pier. “But you need to begin by speaking plainly – we're merchants, here to trade and visit friends. You won't be arrested for cursing at me, Gaspar."

The crocodile grunted, quickly taking his place just ahead of Leon, eyes peeled across the harbour. It looked like any ordinary harbour, devoid of attention, most of the day labourers home for their supper already.

“Walk plainly too, my friend," Leon ordered him. “By my side and at ease, the last thing I need is someone noticing you braced to draw your guns."

“Yes, S… Yes." An old pang of longing crossed Leon's heart then, as he was suddenly reminded of Jacques.

It hit him like ice to the face. The rat's face in his mind, the tense little motions. The difficulty he had acting like everyone else. Jacques had never managed to get the hang of treating Leon ordinarily, once he formed the Triumvirate.

That was my failure. I won't turn Gaspar into another sycophant. Leon would make certain to honour his old friend. He died for Rennaire, he died for me.

“I am no better than you, simply because I outrank you, Gaspar," Leon said, careful to make sure his voice was low. “All men are equal, even emperors. That is the principle my new Rennaire is founded upon. You're a good soldier, and a good man." He clapped the croc on his back, noticing how Gaspar flinched slightly.

“Thank you for saying that," he replied gently. A sly grin cracked at his muzzle, white teeth poking through his green scales. “Even if ain't true."

They'd almost reached the steps leading to the next district when Leon caught the sound of horse-shoes clip-clopping up the cobblestones. They came to the steps just as three riders came peeling around the corner at a trot. They were dressed like elite imperial guards, adorned in flowing green greatcoats, with wide plumed hats atop their heads. Leon did not miss the heavy swords dangling at their hips, conspicuously undrawn.

“Here we go," Gaspar said, instinctively reaching out to shove Leon back. The crocodile drew a wheellock from his coat, cocking the firing mechanism with one claw.

Leon reached down to the knife on his belt, suddenly wishing he had a sword or pistol of his own. Gaspar had thought it would draw too much attention, but better that than being left defenceless in a fight.

The riders pulled to a halt at the top of the stairs, looking down from their mounts.

“Your Imperial Majesty!" Cried the lead man, a grinning fox with a scar running across his muzzle. He raised a paw to hail them, and Leon glanced about, half expecting a squad of soldiers to burst from the woodworks.

“Get back now, before this gets ugly," Gaspar said, aiming his pistol up at the fox.

“Hold fast, friend," the fox said, swiftly dismounting, his paws kept upright and far away from any weapons. “I have been sent by Queen Benicia herself to welcome you to our most precious nation, please, accept my humble greeting on her behalf." The fox fell to one knee, head bowed.

“Idiot," Gaspar hissed. He holstered his pistol, quickly skipping up to the top of the steps. “Get the fuck up, you fool," he snapped, seizing the fox's arm and hauling him upright once more. “Haven't you heard the meaning of secret mission? You want all of Sanlóna to know we're here?"

The fox scoffed, glancing about. “There is nobody here, no?" Rennaire and Yaravania's languages were unusually similar, save for a few loan-words and a heavy accent. Still, the fox seemed uncomfortable in the tongue, and Leon wondered where he was originally from.

Yaravanians had a reputation for being… overly lax, if Leon was being kind. Lazy was what most people called it. Sometimes the gossip is true, it seems.

“Act like there is always someone watching," Gaspar growled. “We will make our own way to Sanlóna Palace tomorrow morning, as agreed. Go back to your Queen."

“Ah, well, how do you say… I don't think so?" The fox grinned devilishly. Leon's paw tightened around his knife.

“Don't play cute with me. Fucking explain yourself," Gaspar snarled, pointedly bracing his claw on the hilt of his sword.

“Hello, hello!" The fox stammered, raising his paws up his chest again, fingers splayed in a show of non-aggression. “No, nothing so hostile, my friend! My King and his Queen, they are simply so eager to meet with the famous Gambling Emperor, this is a… friendly thing!"

“Stop saying emperor," Gaspar hissed, leaning closer in. He looked ready to bite the man's head off. “And call him that ignorant nickname again, and I'll have your tongue."

“Gaspar…" Leon finally stepped in, touching a paw to the crocodile's shoulder. “Don't ascribe malice to naivety." As the crocodile grumbled, but settled, Leon eyed the fox. “Monsieur. It was agreed I would come tomorrow morning, to begin discussions."

“Perhaps there was a… mis-speaking," the fox offered, unhelpfully. “No matter." He spun on his heels, snapping his fingers at his men, who both swiftly dismounted. “Come, come, we go to the palace now, you may take my men's horses… they are… getting fat, no? In need of the exercise, same as my children."

Leon considered his options. Submit to the Yaravanian monarchs, and go now, breaking their agreement. Or, refuse and take the firmer position.

“Don't," Gaspar whispered.

If I go now, am I letting them control the pace of our negotiation? He tried to think fast, how could it be perceived? The Queen can guess what I've come for, and she is not short-memoried enough to have forgotten her surrender. He glanced at the fox, saw his nervous shifting as he gestured towards the empty saddle. They're scared, not posturing, Leon realised. This is not a ploy… they are trying to impress me. They're excited to meet the emperor who conquered Midland.

His mind made up, Leon pushed forward to mount the horse. Gaspar grabbed his arm, frowning. “Si… Leon, no. This is not right. We should do as we planned, go to where we are safe. If we walk into that palace, we are serving ourselves up like a ham."

“Gaspar, my friend," Leon said. “We have to go eventually – now or later, it makes little difference. We are here, and these men are armed." Leon made no effort at lowering his voice, and the fox chuckled nervously. “If the King and Queen wanted me dead, I would be dead." He gave the fox a firm look. “I am placing my trust in them."

“This is a bad decision, something is wrong."

“Leave the politics to me," Leon said, brushing him aside as he accepted the reins, hauling himself up into the horse's saddle. “You just be ready to kill whoever tries to stop me."

“Bello," the fox said, clapping. “The King and Queen shall be delighted!"

Leon had no doubt. Formally, King Aurelio was the man in charge, but it was an open secret that Queen Benicia was the true ruler of Yaravania.

And then, there is the matter of their so-called consort, this Royal Tanner. Something about that name gave Leon pause. Was it simply to Benicia what Alabaster was to him, or something more? I need to learn more, before I can act.

“Let us go, then. I have a Queen to meet."