Chapter 11: Rectifier

Dark Tower: Throne Room

The Overlord stepped out of the Portal, sword at his waist, trophy scythe resting proudly on his shoulder. For convenience he had simply jumped from the top of the tower Zasalamel had holed up in, opening the Portal as he fell. Had it been a stupid idea? Maybe, but it had been pretty damn fun. He didn't usually indulge in reckless self-endangerment, but then again, he didn't usually have the satisfaction of having survived a long, dangerous encounter by himself. At the time, he had been quite annoyed, but now that he was able to look back with a fresh mind he found that he had been having the time of his life. Frankly, he couldn't keep a smile off of his face.

At the other end of the hall, Isabella was seated on his throne, turned sideways so her back was on the angular arm rest. One heel was propped up on the opposite arm rest, and the other was bobbing idly in the air. Truly, that pose could not have been comfortable at all, but it was alluring. Frankly though that wasn't saying much because Isabella did things like that without much conscious thought.

The silver-haired beauty turned her head towards him as the click of his boots reached the throne. "Erasmus, you return unharmed, of course. I can only assume then, that Zasalamel has been disposed of?"

He presented the trophy weapon, planting the haft of the scythe on the floor. "He didn't go quietly, but yes. I watched the life leave his eyes, and just about every drop of blood pour out of his stomach."

Isabella spun around on her rear end to set her feet on the floor. "I can assume then, that you fought the Wizard?"

He decided to be honest, and was aware of the fact that doing so might very well rub Isabella the wrong way. "In point of fact I didn't. The old man allowed me to kill him, stating that his death was simply inevitable."

A shadow seemed to fall across Isabella's face, and yet her voice remained pleasant, even cheerful. "Oh, well, that is good news." She closed the distance between them to less than a foot. "In that case, I suppose that it would have been perfectly alright for all three of us to tag along anyway then?"

He started to open his mouth, to explain his reasons again, but before he could say anything something hit him on the side of the head hard enough to twist his helmet around his face. Even through the metal, or perhaps because of it, his head felt like he had been stuck inside of a church bell during Sunday services. A little bit stunned, it took him a moment to gather his wits enough to correct the skewed helm. When he did, and when his vision focused, he realized that Isabella was still standing in front of him. The part that caught his eye was that her right hand was red, inflamed, and just a little bit deformed. The implication was quite obvious; Isabella had punched him in the jaw.

He straightened up and shifted his gaze momentarily towards Isabella's mangled hand, "Feel better?"

Isabella seemed to be working very hard to keep an angry look on her face, and was gradually giving way to one of hurt, both physical and emotional. "Maybe, just a little bit."

He held his free hand up, wordlessly offering to examine Isabella's injury. When she complied he could tell that his second mistress had put quite a bit of force behind the blow, if the ringing in his ears wasn't enough evidence of that. From just a brief touch, he could tell that all of the bones in the back of her wrist were shattered, and out of place. This was a serious thing, because while the healing magic embedded in the arcanium was fantastic at mending flesh wounds, it really did a bang-up job with bones. As he explained this to Isabella, keeping her attention focused on his face, he gently slid his fingers around over the skin of Isabella's hand, moving as many bones as he could back into a proper position without any drastic shifts that would cause too much pain. Eventually, he trimmed the errors down to three dislocated fingers, and they would have to be reset the hard way.

He moved his fingers into position, to both sides of each maligned finger, and, admittedly, raised the pitch of his voice a bit in a way that sounded just the slightest bit condescending. "Alright, now, on the count of three I'm going to-"

Isabella cut him off; "Don't give me that 'on three' bit. You and I both know that you are going to move on two so I'm-"

He cut her off; "Nonsense. If I say I'm going on three then I'm moving on three. Now, one…" As soon as he uttered the word 'one' he sharply jerked each finger into the correct location.

The strangled gasp of pain was offset by another, albeit halfhearted, ineffectual punch to the jaw. He was able to clamp down on his amusement at this particular vice of his second mistress, but it wasn't exactly easy. Isabella's temper was part of the reason he loved her, but as moments before had proven, just as often got her in trouble. He examined his handiwork. The stretched skin was quickly repairing itself, much better than the bones would have if let be. The hand was still inflamed from the incident, but that would eventually subside on its own.

He released Isabella's hand, allowing it to fall back to her side. "Well, I hope this little experience has given you proper motivation to never do that again. Hmm?"

Isabella narrowed her eyes at him, masking her hurt as anger. "Don't leave me behind and I won't have to." A crack appeared in the mask; "You're the first good thing I've had in my life since I was a child. I don't know what I would do if I lost you."

He gave her chin a slight nudge upwards. "I do. You would survive, stronger than ever, and carve out your own place in this world, beholden to no one. Push comes to shove and you could probably take my place if it came to that."

A single, tiny tear rolled down Isabella's cheek. "Well, thank you for the vote of confidence."

Whereas Sophitia was always emotional, and wore her heart on her sleeve, Isabella was not. That made these rare, short glimpses of emotion all the more endearing. Truth be told she was probably stronger willed than Sophitia, but that wasn't a vice at all. Taki was still a bit of an enigma, but that would probably be changing relatively soon. Even when it did, he doubted that the ninja would become a gushing, bleeding-heart like Sophitia.

An irksome, if necessary, voice broke in on the moment. "Welcome back Sire." Gnarl performed another one of his 'emergences' from behind the throne. "While you were out your, lieutenant, in Wolfkrone requested an audience with you. Shall I summon him Master?"

It was obvious that Gnarl didn't particularly approve of his practice of recruiting other people to his cause, apart from additional mistresses, but this was one of those times where it was reinforced that it was his opinion, not Gnarl's, that mattered. 'Lieutenant' would obviously refer to Nathanial 'Rock' Adams, whom he had installed as the steward of Wolfkrone. The man had done surprisingly well, supposedly due to the fact that his father had been a merchant and he ran the country like one would a business. Not exactly the most exciting way to administer a domain, but he could not say it was anything but effective. He waved his hand to give Gnarl the 'go ahead' signal.

For appearances, he crossed the distance to his throne and took a seat. Isabella, completely true to character, and a little over the top, draped herself over his lap, belly down. For a moment he just sat there and laughed internally, before obliging his mistress by tracing a line down her spine with his left index finger, eliciting a moderate shiver of pleasure.

He could not resist commenting; "My my, if you are going to be this cuddly after every time I put myself in danger, then perhaps I should do this more often."

Isabella shot him a coy glare out of the corner of her eyes. "Don't you dare, unless I'm there as well."

He smirked, and almost wished that his helmet didn't hide his face so well. "Alright then, next large-scale conflict I find myself in, you will be the first I call. Does that satisfy your newfound sense of protectiveness?"

Isabella's right hand idly traced some of the intricate lines on his armor. "Maybe, I guess you'll just have to wait and see." She turned her head to him and winked; "But the odds are rather good."

Any further teasing dialogue was delayed by the sound of the Portal, and the soft thud of Rock being propelled out of it and landing heavily on the floor. Of course, given Rock's stature it was impossible for a landing to be anything other than heavy. The White Giant looked rather well considering the terms on which they had lasted parted, the burns were mostly healed, and the way Rock walked suggested that his groin was at least beginning to recover from the savage blow he had been dealt.

Rock took a knee ten feet away from the foot of his throne, "My lord."

He entwined his fingers, resting his chin upon them. "My, advisor informed me that there was some dire matter that you needed to inform me of. Or am I mistaken?"

Rock picked his head up; "No, ah, I mean you aren't mistaken. There is a riot in progress at the castle gates. If it were just a few people I'd deal with it but, the whole city is involved."

He felt his left eyebrow twitch upwards. "A city-wide riot? I can see then, your reason for hesitation. No people equals no city, and this is the capitol after all."

Rock's hands shifted from his knee to the haft of his giant axe. "Then, I ask again, what do you wish for me to do?"

He would have stood, but that would have involved sending Isabella tumbling down off of the raised platform his throne stood on. "This time, I say you do nothing. I shall deal with this matter personally. Perhaps, I can nip this riot in the bud before it gets too far out of control."

Rock looked slightly confused by this statement. "But, milord, they are already rioting. What more can happen?"

Isabella answered for him. "What my dear, sweet husband is trying to say, is that maybe he can calm the people down before it reaches the point where he has to kill all of them."

He laughed, "I doubt I could have put it much better, but yes, that is the gist of it." His right hand turned Isabella's face towards his own. "Well? Would you like to come along? I would hardly consider this a dangerous situation, but you are welcome all the same."

Isabella sprang to her feet and snatched up her blade. "I think I will, after all, I never get tired of seeing you 'impose your will."

The innuendo was so thick he could have cut it with a knife. But with a great deal of effort he ignored it and waved Rock back towards the Portal, dismissing the lieutenant. He now had a rather pressing appointment with a mob. This could turn out to be either extremely amusing, or dreadfully boring.

Wolfkrone Capitol: Castle Gates

Ivy looked out over the assembled mob from the battlements, marveling for a moment at how a single city could hold this many people. Of course, the stone square in front of the gates was deliberately small so hostile armies could not mass for an effective assault, that made the crowd seem larger than it was with how it stretched back into the streets. Even so, the crowd must have been massive, upwards of a thousand, possibly two thousand.

She voiced her observations to Erasmus, who was standing slightly behind her. "It seems that Rock Adams wasn't kidding when he claimed it was a city wide riot, I think even I would get sick of killing before I got through that."

A light chuckle escaped from within The Overlord's helm. "It's bloodthirsty comments like that which make me wish I had met you a long time ago." Erasmus took a step forward to peer down upon the mob. "But city-wide isn't entirely accurate in this case. Look at the people, individually. There is a distinct lack of any real sign of wealth. What is assembled here is the vast numbers of this city's poor. The kind that are easily manipulated by the ranting of a single zealot." Erasmus tilted his head upwards as he looked for the back of the formation. "If I call out that leader, and humiliate him, then the mob should dissipate."

She had only one question about the plan. "And, does this humiliation involve killing the leader?"

Erasmus nodded and turned to head for the stairs down. "It ends with killing them. That much is certain."

She followed, commenting at length on the overarching idea. "This isn't exactly an overly complicated plan, you know?"

The Overlord seemed to take a long moment to consider his words, during which they both arrived at the interior side of the massive gates. "I'm not exactly fond of complicated plans. More minute details are simply more things that can go wrong." He gave the signal for the soldiers to start opening the gates. "Think of it like a chain of dominoes. Every single one must fall at exactly the right time, in exactly the right way for success. Me, I prefer to shake the table that the dominoes are on. Simple, brutal, effective."

While the doors were opening she took the time to glance around at the interior of the castle. Very few modifications had been effected upon the décor, mostly the simple replacing of a banner with the sigil of The Overlord. White stone still dominated the construction, set astride empty suits of armor that gleamed so brightly one might be inclined to think that they had been worn by gods instead of men. And of course, given the name of the country, there were wolf motifs everywhere; carved into the stone columns, emblazoned on the steel of armor, stitched into the very carpet that she was standing on. Some were so elaborate that she could almost think that they were alive. Now that was good artistry.

The Overlord waved for the soldiers to halt their work with the door and turned to her. "I'd like for you to stay just inside for the time being. I'll signal you if the situation demands it."

Her response was an immediate question. "And, what exactly will this signal be?"

A wry snort issued from Erasmus's mouth. "Honestly, if any more than two people die the mob will devolve into a frenzied hysteria. So, if I have to kill three people, you can rush out and start slicing."

She nodded, a wicked smile working its way across her lips. Inside, she was actually torn as to what she wanted to happen. Part of her, the violent and sadistic part, wanted the negotiations to fail. The part of her that was a bit more reasonable wanted Erasmus to succeed in whatever he did, that included these minor problems.

Wolfkrone Capitol: Castle Gates

The Overlord strode through the front gates of the castle, sword drawn, and doing his best to look majestically pissed off. Something he was quite good at acting out, in point of fact. The effect was rather instantaneous, the crowd shut up faster than flames could flare up on oil and they all backed away from him like a sane person would from a rabid bear. All was quiet far an exceptionally long moment, then a male voice in the crowd shouted something unintelligible and the shouting resumed. That told him that the instigator was male, or at least one of them. There could be a small group, but so soon after his takeover? That was slightly unlikely.

He stabbed his sword into the ground within easy reach, and crossed his arms across his chest. "Let your leader come forth, I would like to speak with him."

The force in his voice carved straight through the mob and cleared an area around a lone man, dressed in the rags of what might have once been the royal guard. He beckoned, and the lone man was drawn as if tied on a chain, pushed as much by the press of the crowd as pulled by his will. Once he was within swords reach of the ringleader, he made a startling, if somewhat unoriginal realization.

He voiced his observation, contempt dripping from his words like acid. "I recognize you, from that admirable, if exceptionally futile, last stand you and the former queen made against my undead hoard. The former knight-general of Wolfkrone."

The fallen knight looked suddenly enraged. "Former? I only lost my post because of your tyranny! All of the people here have lost because of you!" The destitute man turned towards the crowd, drawing energy and courage from the mob. "That is why these noble patriots of the kingdom are here! To demand our-"

He cut the fallen knight off, exasperation hitting him like brick to the head. "Yes, yes epic speech is epic. Cut to the chase, what do you want?"

The aplomb of the former knight vanished like a puff of smoke. "What! You dare to assume that you can buy us off?"

He started to develop a severe headache. "You said it yourself. You are here to demand something of me. Out with it." When there was about to be another indignant outburst he continued. "Think of it this way, if you don't tell me what you want, I can't even consider it."

There was a pause, and then a woman in the crowd called out, "We want Lady Hildegard back!"

A chorus of affirmations followed, and he felt his headache abate somewhat, "That's it?" He shot a snappy remark towards the former knight-general. "And you never considered that I might have already killed her?"

The former knight lost it, "If you have, then it will be at your peril!"

With wild abandon the ragged man drew a short sword and charged at him. While the foolishness of the act baffled him, he also smiled to himself at the opportunity that it presented. Whether they knew it or not, the fallen knight had just revealed himself to be a zealous fanatic. Killing him now was a perfect opportunity to end this headache, at least for now. There still remained the possibility that someone else would step into the void left by a dead knight-general, but he would deal with that if it occurred. As the crazed knight charged he remained still, as the short sword rose to strike he remained still, and at the last possible moment he slid out of the way. Following up, he grabbed the back of the fallen knight's head and slammed it down on the upwards-facing hilt of his sword, crushing the forehead of the man inwards as easily as if he had been squishing a fly.

He turned to the people, still assembled but held at bay by, or so he'd like to think, his charisma and his show of brutality. "People of Wolfkrone, go home, and I will pretend that this whole thing did not happen, this time."

Slowly, starting with a single woman in the middle, the mob began to disperse, his idle threat hanging over them like the blade of a guillotine.

Wolfkrone Capitol: Castle Interior

Ivy thought out the 'conversation' that Erasmus had just gone through with the mob. Clearly, the people had been quite fond of Hildegard, why she had no idea. She supposed that the masochistic thing that she kept in her room might have been a decent ruler at one point, but that was firmly outside the realm of possibility now. Or, at least so she thought. Come to think of it though, this would probably be a good time to ask Erasmus about doing something to correct the, problem she was having with her pet.

Erasmus reentered the castle, right hand attempting to massage his forehead through his helmet. "Well, that was rather bracing experience, wasn't it? I can only imagine how they would have reacted had I told them their beloved queen is now a depraved perversion of who she once was."

She suppressed the urge to laugh, because as bothersome as Hildegard had become the change was still amusing to contemplate. "Speaking of her, I have a favor that I would ask of you."

The Overlord's golden eyes locked onto her own; "Something with regards to Hildegard?" There was a short pause, and then Erasmus uttered a minor expletive. "Damn, did I really just make that horrible rhyme?"

She rolled her eyes, and continued; "All joking aside, yes, to both questions." She took a moment to consider her next words. "Well, to put it simply, she's gotten a lot worse. Whereas before she would simply hound me throughout my waking hours, now she will, and rather abruptly at that, wake me in the middle of the night. She then proceeds to beg for me to 'punish her.' At the time I am only so happy to do it, but…"

Erasmus held up a hand and she gladly stopped talking, feeling unreasonably uncomfortable about having to complain. "Say no more, I understand." An angry sigh issued from Erasmus's mouth. "Why must everything I do in this kingdom loop back around to that self-righteous woman?"

She shrugged helplessly, and then took notice of a small bit of white in the otherwise black picture of her Overlord. There was a small, somewhat innocuous piece of parchment stuck into the belt upon which Erasmus hung his sword. She pointed this out to her 'husband.' Well, at least she thought of him as her husband. Or, how she thought women thought about their husbands… Damn it this romantic stuff was confusing!

Erasmus removed the small piece of paper, unrolled it, she assumed he read it, and then he started laughing hard enough to shake the walls of the castle. "Oh, that is just too much. Ha ha ha ha!" Eventually The Overlord vented enough of his mirth to explain to her what was so funny. "I think…" Erasmus offered the piece of paper to her. "…That Taki has finally decided to take me up on that offer to decorate her room."

She took the note and read it aloud. "I am fond of Chinese and Japanese antiques. Not exactly a novelist, is she?"

The Overlord rolled his eyes, a move that also involved an identical motion from his head. "Did you expect her to be? But I digress, this is a good thing. It will give me something to do while I mull over what to do with Hildegard, again."

She shook her head, "If you are going shopping, then I'd rather go home."

A devious glint appeared in Erasmus's eyes; "As you wish, Isabella."

The Overlord once again opened the Portal directly beneath her feet, and although he was not ditching her for some perilous situation she still screamed choice expletives before vanishing into the void.

Wolfkrone Castle:

Erasmus smiled to himself as Isabella disappeared, most likely going to end up in her room or the dungeon until he returned. When he did, there were going to be some harsh words, but he always found that part fun. Moving on to current matters though, he snapped his fingers and called for the seneschal.

The seneschal appeared out of nowhere in response; "Yes, oh most benevolent of rulers?"

The seneschal was an ugly, mousey man that had probably reached this point in life through sheer flattery. And that was no compliment. It made him want to brain the idiotic sod with every word spoken. The only thing preventing him from doing so was that if there was ever anything he needed to know about the kingdom, the seneschal would know it, more so than Rock Adams.

He didn't even bother looking at the man. "Tell me, where might I find a decent dealer in antiquities in the city?"

The response was hesitant, "Ah, well, not to-"

He added a note of menace to his voice. "I hope you are not about to question why I am asking about this."

From the extreme apologetic quality of his voice, the seneschal had indeed been about to ask that. "Not at all, most gracious of overlords, I was simply searching my memory for one worthy of your noble patronage!"

He turned his head to glare at the mouse of a man out of the corner of his eye, "Spit it out."

The little man all but squealed; "The Emporium on the main boulevard. Straight out of the gates, you can't miss it!"

He smiled to himself, feeding off of the fear. "Good man, now go try and do something useful somewhere else."

Leaving the seneschal behind, he exited the castle through the front gate. Just in a much quieter manner than only moments before. There were a few peasants lingering in the square and they reacted like lightning had struck each one of them individually, scampering off into the maze of streets that probably held a refuge for the downtrodden somewhere near a sewer, or whatever. Speaking of sewers, he should probably invest in the infrastructure at some point. Slums were a part of just about every city, but they were often breeding grounds of malicious intent towards him. The poor would seek to blame their troubles on him, like they would have blamed them on Hildegard before. Best to stifle some of the seeds of rebellion before they sprouted.

Once he arrived on the main boulevard he was mildly impressed that his presence was not as drastically taken as it had been by the mob. Here, the merchants were simply going about their business like they always had. He was, at the moment, just another potential customer. It was actually rather refreshing to be honest. The stall-keepers hawking their wares pandered to him with as much, if not more, intensity than the other citizens. Possibly because they believed he had more money to burn, in which they assumed correctly. To pass some time, and to give himself a bit more time to think, he did browse at a few of them, even one weapon stand that had a rather exotic looking axe on display. He didn't buy it, but filed the design away in his mind to experiment with at a later date.

His thoughts turned inexorably towards Hildegard, and whether he should bother catering to the wishes of the mob/citizens. Sure he could just dump the current Hildegard back into the kingdom, but that would likely cause more problems than it would solve. The thought that he had done something so horrible to their beloved queen would drive the people away from him, might just push them towards full out revolt. He would rather avoid that, if at all possible. That left him with the possibility of somehow curing Hildegard's shattered mental state. But he didn't even know where to begin with such a process. He was good at destroying, corrupting, managing large expanses of territory, and managing the opinion of the masses. Fixing a crazy's mind, that was something he had never bothered to try. Still, if he could swing it, that would be the best option. The people would practically worship him if he gave them back their queen, and it would free Rock Adams to be steward somewhere else when that was required. Or he could simply use Rock as a living battering ram on the battlefield. That too, was a preferable outcome.

He glanced up, and became aware of why the seneschal had been so sure he would not miss the antique emporium. The sign that denoted the nature of business was huge, gaudy, and overlarge. But really, it was nonetheless effective. After all, it caught his attention, and that was the entire purpose of a sign. He pushed the door open, and entered.

Inside, the store/emporium/whatever-shop-synonym-you-like it was rather surprisingly well lit. Considering that he had never been on an actual shopping trip, he hadn't exactly been sure what to expect. But he hadn't expected something bright, cheery, and not at all musty. A little bell rang above his head, and a coincided with a rustling sound off in the depths of the shop.

From out of the back room emerged a rather rotund man that looked to be in his late thirties. The man whom he assumed was the proprietor was going bald, but the dome head look was working for him. Even if it didn't, the proprietor just seemed like a relentlessly upbeat individual, not at all bad for someone to do business with. At least he could count on a pleasant bargaining process. Haggling could quickly turn nasty with a foul-tempered partner.

The man beamed him a smile that could have lit up a cave. "Welcome to…" A spark of recognition flashed through the shopkeeper's eyes. "Ah! My lord, you honor me with your presence in my humble shop."

He nodded his head as a sign of respect, and extended his left hand. "The pleasure is all mine."

The shopkeeper shook the offered hand. "Of course, my lord." The man leaned on a medium-sized counter. "Now then, what can Leonardo find for you today? I have silks from the deserts of Arabia and porcelain all the way from the Far East!"

He cast his gaze about like a net, fishing for something but he did not know what. "Actually, I have a lady-friend that is fond of Chinese and Japanese antiques. You wouldn't happen to have much of that in stock?"

Leonardo's smile grew even wider. "Of course I do, my lord. If you would just follow me to the back…" With a grandiose flourish the merchant led him through a curtain into a room that was far more to his expectations. "All of the finest jade relics, gleaming porcelain, and intricate woodwork you could ever need!"

He wasn't exactly sure which pieces he were looking at fit Taki's desired parameters, but if Leonardo knew what was good for him the merchant wouldn't try to sell him something that wasn't what he wanted. "Impressive, now, let's talk price. What do you think is a fair amount for the lot of this?"

Leonardo's smile faded, and the expression shifted to an extremely thoughtful one. "Well, for you my lord, I will part with them for a mere one-hundred and fifty gold pieces. A better deal you will not find anywhere else."

Inside the privacy of his head Erasmus was a little bit baffled. He had expected to pay at least three times that. But, he supposed that the rate of exchange might be a bit different here than it was in his world. After all, there wasn't a domain of dwarves churning out continual, huge amounts of gold here. That could have contributed to it. After all, he had upwards of a million in his treasury, and that was just in the small pieces, not counting the jewels and other valuables.

He snapped his fingers and caught the full amount in his left hand. "Here is the one hundred fifty. If you bring the objects to the castle in, say, an hour and a half, and assemble them, you'll get an extra one hundred."

Leonardo's eyes gleamed with a gold lust that rivaled dwarves. "Of course, my lord! I will summon my men immediately!"

He smirked to himself as the fat man rushed off deeper into the building. "Yes, you do that Leonardo."

Wolfkrone Castle: Throne Room

The Overlord stood in the grand hall, mulling over his intermediate decision to release Hildegard, provided of course that he could fix that masochist's broken mind. But then again, if his intermediate plan worked, he wouldn't have to lift a single finger. From behind him, as usual, the seneschal approached with his unique shuffling gait.

He didn't bother with any pleasantries, and voiced his thought and oddly enough, hope, to the air. "Tell me, did the former Lady have any family to speak of? Preferably someone with which she had a strong connection."

The seneschal was obviously taken aback, likely thinking that he wanted to exterminate any close family to the former queen of Wolfkrone. "Well, sire, there, ah, her father is still alive."

His chin jerked upwards and he whirled to face the seneschal. "If that's true why wasn't he the one commanding the troops? Or running the kingdom for that matter."

The seneschal's hands came up in a non-threatening gesture. "He, he can't my lord. He's, quite literally, insane. The former Lady was under the distinct notion that he was driven mad by the influence of the cursed sword."

He sighed to himself and muttered under his breath. "There always has to be at least one snag." He glanced back up at the seneschal, "Well? Are you going to take me to the loony or not?"

A terrified squeak issued from the seneschal, which he quite enjoyed, before the mousy man set off in the general direction of one of the rear towers. He supposed that it made some sense, after all you wouldn't want the common people to be fully aware of the fact that their king was drooling worse than a lecher in a brothel. That would be crippling for morale, and not to mention discredit Hildegard's own sanity. He really didn't hold it against any of the castle dwellers for not informing him of this up until now, one deranged madman was no threat, no matter what power he might hold.

The seneschal arrived at a heavy, iron barred door and stopped. "I beg your pardon, my lord. But I know not where the key is for the door. The former Lady kept it with her at all times."

He fought the urge to roll his eyes, and lost. Then drew up his right foot and kicked the door on the knob. "Keys are overrated."

The seneschal started to chatter away. "Excellent form sire-"

He lightly cuffed the man on the back of the head; "Shut up, seriously."

He entered the chamber.

Dark Tower: Private Quarters

Taki sat cross-legged on her bed, and she was still having a hard time coming to terms with the fact that it was in fact, for the moment, hers. She was a little bit confused, to be honest with herself. The man she had originally set out to kill had taken her in for no reason at all when practicality probably should have dictated that she either die or be ejected from the Dark Tower with extreme prejudice. Whenever she got to this point in the string of thoughts her heart started fluttering, unreasonably so. But a single thought of The Overlord, or Erasmus, as she had heard both Sophitia and Ivy call him in private, instigated that same feeling. Come to think of it, that was the reason she stalked him around the Dark Tower, she didn't want that feeling to go away. It was during a particularly sharp jab of said feeling that she had planted that tiny note upon his person earlier today, but, she really didn't expect anything to come of it. Either The Overlord… Erasmus wouldn't find it or would simply…

A sharp series of knocks on her door caused her to inhale a gasp of surprise, but the voice accompanying the knock was what really got to her. "Taki? Are you decent?"

The overall courteousness of the question was kind enough, that he even bothered to ask when he technically owned the entire structure made her heart start pumping. "You, you really need to ask?"

The door opened to admit the titanic physique of Erasmus. "I didn't know, hence why I asked." His head tilted ever so slightly to the side, and she was under the impression that she was on the receiving end of a warm smile. "I haven't received that kind of invitation from you."

It was a gesture of respect that she was not emotionally prepared for. But in fairness, she wasn't really emotionally prepared for anything. Still, the implication was that their relationship would only go as far as she wanted it to. Wait, was she actually considering… no, she couldn't possibly.

Erasmus went on, "Anyway, I'm here about that little note that you left for me in my sword belt."

A flash of heat rushed to her face. "Oh! I, ah, that's, that's good I suppose. I um…"

The Overlord's head tilted just a little bit more, and the impression changed from a smile, to more of a smirk. "Ha! You are absolutely adorable when you're flustered."

She was completely caught off guard, and her string of words was reduced to a bunch of sputtering. That was a compliment, even if it was delivered in a joking manner. That simple action lit something of a fire in her chest cavity, her breath became short. Furthermore, there was a sense of validation, like she had something of a purpose. The feeling was faint, but it was still there.

Erasmus shook his head slowly. "Ah, but never mind." He turned towards the door; "Alright, bring it in."

At his word a chain of heavily burdened men started filing in, each one carrying something that must have been worth her weight in gold. Anything and everything Oriental that could be considered art was represented, dragon effigies carved out of jade, a Buddha here or there, even a few elegant paper screens. Though, clearly some of them were not antiques, but that meant Erasmus had sprung for extra after taking her impulsively delivered note into account.

The Overlord gestured to the lot with a sweep of his right arm. "Arrange the objects however you wish. These men will stay for now you aid with that. I'd do it myself, but decoration has never been my strong point." A small explosion went off inside Erasmus's helm, and she realized that it was a wink. "I look forward to seeing what you do with the place."

As The Overlord left her room, he left something behind, a kernel of warmth that took up residence inside her chest cavity. For a long moment she just stood there, trying to puzzle out what she was feeling, and in the end her thoughts boiled down to a question.

The words slipped out of her mouth, barely louder than a whisper. "Am I, happy?"

Dark Tower: Private Quarters

The Overlord stood with his back against the wall in Isabella's room, with her standing off to one side, his eyes drilling into the back of 'Lord' Krone. Really, the man was a few cards short of a full deck even with a sane mind. But still, his presence and voice was having the desired effect upon Hildegard. There was a hint of that spark of defiance he had come to expect over the course of the two encounters that they had had before he threw her into the dungeon torture chamber. As for how exactly he had, and he hated to think of it using this word, cleansed the old man's mind… Well, he would go over that again only if he had to, and the odds were fairly good that he would. Really, it had almost been pathetically easy…

Her father's endless exhortations finally managed to break through, and the voice that came from Hildegard's mouth didn't exactly sound like he remembered, it sounded almost lost. "Daddy? Father? Am I, dead?"

The old man threw his arms around his daughter, weeping. "No, no child you are not. I can't even begin to describe-"

He cut Von Krone off, "Much as I hate to cut this incredibly poignant moment short, you will have plenty of time to cry on each other's shoulders later."

Hildegard's eyes snapped open as wide as dinner plates, gazing at him with barely contained terror. "What! How, you-"

A short laugh severed the confused string of words. "Yes, me. Now, I believe I am owed a 'thank you, my lord, for returning my father to me and graciously granting me my freedom.' I would seriously consider actually saying that, because I still despise you."

Hildegard's bewildered gaze swept back and forth between him, and her father. "But, but, how?"

He shook his head while releasing an exasperated sigh, his prediction had come true. "I am going to assume that you are asking how I restored your father's sanity. I'm not going to go into explicit details, but suffice to say there was a sliver of Evil power, which I am going to assume, is the power of Soul Edge, lodged in your father's mind. It resisted my efforts, but I don't share dominated minds well. I forced it out by dominating his mind, not unlike what I did to you in point of fact."

A semblance of calm descended over the room, broken only by Isabella's occasional chuckle. In that period Hildegard seemed to take in the magnitude of the situation, her current state of undress, Isabella's patronizing smirk, and his icy glare. He found himself wondering what was going through her mind, but he could guess that it was along the lines of 'why would this completely Evil man bother with releasing me?'

He took his thought and ran with it, voicing his reasoning. "Don't flatter yourself, I did this because your people were rioting about your absence. Giving you back to them saves me the bother of murdering an entire city. Freeing your father from the prison of his own head was simply a step towards the goal of keeping my subjects happy. After all…" He added with a malicious sneer. "I doubt your people would react well to who you have been for the last month or so."

A shudder passed through the young woman; clearly she remembered the events quite clearly, whether she wanted to or not.

He jerked his thumb in the direction of the door. "Now get up, I didn't go through all the bother of making you sane again so you could squat there on the floor. The people are eagerly waiting for you." When Hildegard still hesitated he added; "Don't bother worrying over your attire. So far as I know your quarters in the Wolfkrone Castle have not been disturbed, you may dress yourself when we arrive."

Hildegard moved to obey, and what else could she do? To his amusement however, as the fallen monarch was passing by Isabella his mistress drew her blade and lashed the redhead across the back. Rather gently all things considered, but Hildegard still let out a gasp that was equally laced with pleasure as it was with pain.

Hildegard's father threw an arm around his daughter, glaring at Isabella. "Now why, in the name of all that is holy, was that necessary?"

A devilish smirk crept across Isabella's face. "I just wanted to see if my 'pet' for the last few weeks is the same woman standing in front of me." The smirk became a diabolic smile; "I have so much pity for the first man you take to your bed. The poor fellow won't know what to do."

A few things happened at once: Hildegard looked completely mortified, Hildegard's father looked about ready to murder Isabella on the spot, and he could barely breathe he was laughing so hard. Then in a single breath he recovered his composure and all but kicked Hildegard and her father down the stairs. On the morrow, he was going to get a 'royal' escort to Ostrhinesburg, whether Hildegard liked it or not.

Dark Tower: Private Quarters: three hours later

Taki shooed the last of the working men out of her room, and swiftly shut the door behind them. She then turned back towards the formerly empty space behind her and marveled at the transformation. Words mostly failed her, and all she could think was that the new decoration gave the space a delightful, rustic beauty. A thought occurred to her, and she was deeply embarrassed by how arrogant it made her sound, that even the Empress of Japan wasn't worthy of this space. She caught a glimpse of herself in the full-length mirror across the room and noted that the crimson flush on her face crept all the way down her neck, but there was a tiny smile on her lips regardless.

A mild knock on her door jarred her thoughts back to reality, and forced her to stifle a surprised yelp. "It's, the door is open."

The Overlord slid into the room with effortless suave, that she only halfheartedly tried to resist. Once inside, Erasmus remained silent as his glowing eyes roamed around, taking in the new setting. For a moment, The Overlord's eyes lingered on her, and then moved on. She, she was inexplicably furious about this, but bottled her rage up until The Overlord had finished his perusal.

Erasmus turned his gaze back towards her, and her ire was snuffed out like it had been smothered beneath the heel of a behemoth. "I must say, you did quite well. There is something exceptionally peaceful about the arrangement. I almost feel like out in the middle of some alpine forest, near a tiny waterfall." Without warning Erasmus took two steps and closed the distance between them to almost nothing. "You look like you have something you want to say."

The sudden, dead on advance caused her to stumble over whatever rebuttal she might have had and instead trail off in a string of 'I' and 'umm.' She also felt, that she was utterly humiliating herself, which hurt far more than the feeling had any right to.

Erasmus placed both the index and middle fingers of his right hand over her lips, silencing her like he so often did with Sophitia. "Here's a radical idea." The same fingers slid up her cheek to her temple, "Why don't you, at least for a moment, try to stop figuring your feelings out with this…" Slowly, gently, and oh so sensuously he traced a zigzagging line down the side of her face, running along the top of her collarbone, and across the top of both breasts to stop over her heart. "…and try letting this guide you."

A moment passed and nothing happened, then she felt something inside of her crack, and then break. Whether that was due to Erasmus's prodding or her own, she did not care, corruption be damned. Her hands reached out and grabbed the back of The Overlord's helmet, actually lifting her off of the ground so her lips could reach his.