Overall, he had to admit that the evening was going swimmingly. From that amusing moment of panic when the Lucians realized their prisoners were free—which, by the way, he had nothing to do with, but yes, of course he had known about it and not said anything because what, precisely, was the fun in that?—to the way Emperor Aldercapt sweated profusely when the anticipated explosions in the square had never gone off, Ardyn had been titillated all day. Iedolas had been running a rather long shot on those explosives, expecting that his plants hadn't been dug up along with his spies and double-crossers. But alas, he was a madman and one cannot expect a madman to abide by logic.
Ardyn knew, of course, from first hand experience.
He had attended the signing and sat, humming quietly to himself as the rest of the world hummed with tension. Someone had to introduce a variant tune. And when, inevitably, all hell had broken loose—as those who were unfamiliar with hell were wont to say—he had stood in the midst of it and reveled in the break in monotony.
They would have been massacred, the Lucians, if the little Dreamer hadn't returned in time to throw wrenches and turn tides. How many lives she had saved, he would never know because she had promptly thrown them away again when she traded the Ring of the Lucii—and thus the Wall—for her father's life.
Tsk. And he had thought better of her than that.
Then again. What was the purpose of complete and utter sacrifice? If what she wanted was her father, why not preserve him? Simply because some fool with a mask and wings had given her two-thousand-year-removed ancestor a ring and a title and a responsibility he, nor any of his kin, had ever asked for?
Perhaps it wasn't so base. He could respect doing a thing simply because one wanted to.
So she saved Daddy-dearest and sent him away with—interestingly enough—one of the few people in the room who wanted him dead. So she had the ever-so-pretty Commander Nox Fleuret under her thumb, did she? Ardyn had guessed that much, after she had danced with him, but it was nice to know for certain. And she actually trusted him—not only to not kill her father, but to keep him safe.
Ah.
But she had a reason for that, didn't she? A little piece of motivation. Perhaps she had given him the carrot last night while they spun round and round the dance floor, but now she bared her teeth and showed the stick.
Oh yes. She would kill Lunafreya merely to harm Ravus. And she wouldn't even feel bad about it, afterward.
He could respect that, as well.
Left alone with only Ardyn for an audience, the little Dreamer circled her prey, blade bare in her hand and ring alight on her finger. Glauca—ah, apologies, he was called Drautos, in this country—was thinking of ways to escape. She was thinking of ways to torture him without killing him. She only spared Ardyn a fleeting glance.
"Don't interfere," she said.
"I?" Ardyn asked, affronted. "I would never stand between a Caelum and sweet vengeance."
She pounced at her prey. Her glaive dragged over Glauca's armor and sparks flew; then it vanished and she reared back, hand glowing blue-white, and plunged her whole fist through his chest. The Fulgarian's gift rippled across the Magitek armor. Not even a modulated voice, designed to make him sound so big and tough could make those screams any less pathetic.
Ardyn righted the treaty table, perched on the edge, and picked up the treaty itself. He flipped through the pages. "I can't believe you were actually going to sign this. Willingly give up all your lands to Niflheim and just hope we honor the treaty and don't storm your gates as soon as the Wall comes down? You must have been desperate."
The little Dreamer leapt back from her prey. She landed neatly on her feet; her prey doubled over on one knee and had to put out a hand to steady himself.
"I wasn't going to sign anything." She never even looked away.
Glauca pushed himself up and she let him get all the way back to his feet before she launched another bolt of lightning at him. It was ever so much more fun to knock them over after they were on their feet, wasn't it? This time she blasted him straight into the wall and held him there, just listening to the screams as his armor began to smoke. The louder he yelled the more intense the enjoyment on her face grew.
Ah, the taste of revenge.
Ardyn cast the treaty aside. "When I say 'you,' I mean in the general sense. 'You Lucians.' Admittedly, the language is ambiguous, so I can't blame you for the misunderstanding. There really should be a plural form of—"
"Ardyn." She dropped Glauca back on the ground, where he lay, smoking and breathing heavily.
Ardyn put on his best and most charming smile for her. "Yes, little Dreamer?"
"Shut up."
He laughed. And he only laughed harder when she waited for Glauca to stand back up before blasting him off his feet again.
It took the fool another two tries to realize he could deflect her magic with his blade. It was just as well that the Magitek was sustaining him—how disappointing would it have been if she had killed him accidentally before he managed to even put up a fight?
How terribly boring.
After that it was less a massacre and more a battle. He was still sorely outmatched—oh, and he knew it—but at least he managed not to scream so much during the second half of things. She was only toying with him. It was just a shame his face was all obscured. Wouldn't it have been nice to watch the budding panic transform into desperation?
Visible or not, they both knew for certain when it happened. That was when he turned and bounded out through the same window he had crashed through in the first place, like a hare fleeing a wolf. Apt.
And so began the third half of things. Yes. Well. He hadn't expected it to go on quite so long.
"Didn't your mother teach you not to play with your food?" He called after the little Dreamer as she lifted her glaive and prepared to chase the rabbit.
She stopped and turned back toward him. "Mother died when I was three months old. Likely the reason I can't feel love and have more daddy issues than I can count."
That. That was a joke, wasn't it?
She warped out of the room while Ardyn was still trying to decide. He sat alone in silence for a few moments before he threw back his head and laughed.
Oh, she was right.
He did like her a great deal.