Tower of Avarice: A LitRPG story

Chapter 141 – Floor 13: Part 2

The Palace was located only a short distance from the Grand Cathedral. When Mathew arrived with the King and Queen, he was escorted through the myriad of marble-floored hallways, through doors where Knights guarded, and servants bustled in preparation for that evening's festivities.

Mathew knew where he was going; the private rooms where the Royal family stayed were separate from most of the palace. He was looking forward to some privacy; even now, he could feel the eyes of everyone following him.

He needed time to think, process what had happened, and recover from the Trial of Chivalry and the mana expenditure that claiming the magical sword required. Thankfully, Albrecht and Margrit understood, sending him off on his own with a reminder to be dressed and ready for the party by nightfall.

Closing the door and blocking the servants and his escort of Knights outside, Mathew sank into a chair without bothering to remove his coat or his boots.

What happened in the Tower for the Floor progression to change? He was sure that he was going to be catapulted onto the next floor, but strangely, an error occurred, and he was still there. Would it happen again when he defeated the Demi-Beasts to the North?

Mathew wished there was someone he could talk to about it, someone who understood the Tower and could answer his questions. But aside from that young woman in the business suit who randomly showed up occasionally as he traversed the Floors, there was no one he could think of who was knowledgeable about the Tower.

His only choice was to carry on and hope that whatever was happening in the Tower didn’t affect him too much. With a tired sigh, he dragged his body to the bathroom, where a hot bath was waiting for him.

Page Break

Marten assisted Daphne and Matilda down from the carriage as they arrived at the Palace. Their parents were in separate carriages only a few feet away, but Marten was responsible for escorting the two women to the ball.

Publicly, his presence here ensured that his sister and cousin were cared for and protected during the ball. But secretly, his parents wanted him to reign in Matilda’s excitement and ensure that Daphne didn’t use her magic to harm any ‘overly zealous suitors.’

Marten held Daphne’s hand as she reached the ground, thanking him quietly as the keen young woman kept an eye on those in attendance. Marten was sure that not a single face went unnoticed, filed away in Daphne’s mind for later use.

He had attended the University as well, albeit for only the basic knowledge required for both a Knight and a future Lord, but he knew the sorts of things that a Magus would study there. Enhanced concentration, perfect memory and the ability to read a person’s life story from a single expression.

Marten only had rumours to go on about specifics, but it was enough to know that Daphne was someone not to be trifled with, knowledge that many of the young Lords of Londinium had personally experienced.

Perhaps that was the reason that Daphne was still unattached after multiple seasons. He couldn’t help but be relieved that his sister, Matilda, had shown not a single ounce of magical aptitude. Instead, she had a different sort of interest.

Gossip. She was addicted to it. In their family’s estate, hundreds of miles outside of the city, Matilda received letters from other young ladies about the latest news.

Marten gave Daphne a small smile and a slight bow before helping Matilda down the steps of the carriage. Signalling the driver, he escorted the two young ladies up the path to the palace, where they joined hundreds of others.

The sun was just setting, and the sky was a beautiful orange and red. The air was perfectly warm, lacking the chill of early spring or the full-on heat of summer. With a slight breeze to keep the bugs away, they couldn’t have asked for a better night.

“Thank you for escorting us, Marten. I know you would rather be a part of Prince Aiden’s protection detail.” Daphne commented, smiling and waving at her parents from a little distance away. Marten let out a slight snort, coughing to hide it when he realized that it was rude of him to do so. Daphne quirked an eyebrow at her cousin.

“The Prince doesn’t need protecting. Now you know why I said he was a monster.” Marten whispered, trusting his cousin not to reveal his disrespectful comments to anyone else. Daphne nodded.

“He is indeed. The Cathedral will need months of repairs, not to mention the effect it had on the crowd. Do you believe it was deliberate? That he wanted to send a message?” Daphne asked quietly as the trio made their way through the large, open doors and through the hallways to the rear gardens where the ball would be held.

With the warmth of spring, it was felt that an open-air party was just the thing to shake off the depression of a long winter. The gardens were in full bloom, the air was filled with music and the smell of flowers. A dance floor had been constructed in the center for the occasion, with magical lights overhead to illuminate.

It was beautiful.

“Perhaps. I have no doubt that the weakest amongst our peers are suitably cowed. But I doubt the Rosen’s are going to just roll over and accept Aiden’s return.” Marten remarked as he led them around the dance floor and to a discrete corner where they could observe the party first.

The trio were busy, smiling and nodding as they greeted their peers. The crowd was a sea of colours, and the din of conversation nearly drowned out the musicians playing softly at the end of the dancefloor.

The plan to blend in went out the window when Matilda spotted some of her friends and took off as quickly as a startled hare. Marten let out a huff and was determined to keep one eye on his sister while continuing his conversation with Daphne.

“But he has Excalibur. How can they deny him?” Daphne asked in surprise. Compared to Marten, who spent significantly longer in the capital, rubbing elbows with the elite, she was naïve. Most of her time was spent studying at the University. She hadn’t experienced the dark underbelly of Londinium Politics.

“You would be surprised what can be denied. I wouldn’t be surprised if they made trouble tonight.” Marten observed. He noticed that there was a full contingent of Knights on the outskirts of the garden, well-armed and keeping an eye on things.

Evidently, the King felt the same way as Marten in regards to the risk to Aiden’s safety. Daphne felt nervous, suddenly imagining assassins in every corner. When he noticed the young woman’s discomfort, Marten let out a small laugh.

“It won’t be knives in the back, dear cousin. If anything, I would expect a formal challenge, perhaps a duel over some imagined slight.” Marten said, taking a glass from a passing servant and downing the strong liquor in a single swallow.

Grimacing at the intense burn, he motioned for another. He didn’t like going to a party sober; it set a bad precedent.

“Idiots. They should know as well as we do how powerful the Prince is. Besides, he can simply say ‘no’ to a challenge.” Daphne scoffed as she took a drink from an offered wine glass. Red and rich, she noted that it was a very fine wine from Francia.

“No, he can’t. Turn down a challenge, and he will lose any respect the Knights have for him. The Rosens also know that; they’ll have something arranged to neutralize Aiden’s strength.” Marten said, and Daphne turned to look at her cousin.

“You’ve thought about this a lot.” She observed.

“We all have. It's all the Knights on Aiden’s detail were talking about on the way down. What will happen when he gets his title, and how will others react? We tried to warn him but…” Marten trailed off.

“But?” Daphne pushed for more information.

“He said he didn’t care. I’ve never met anyone less interested in being a Knight or a Prince than Aiden. If it wasn’t for the King practically threatening him with a tutor and private classes, I doubt he would have bothered to learn anything at all.” Marten revealed.

Their conversation was interrupted as the King and Queen emerged from the Palace. Wearing attire less formal than what they had to the Grand Cathedral, the pair still drew the eye of everyone present. The Queen wore a dress that was heavy with gemstones and gold, while the King chose a military-style uniform complete with a sword.

Not Excalibur. Now that it was passed to Aiden, the King used a different magical blade, one still formidable but lacking the history of the famous sword.

But it was the figure that walked slowly behind them that caught Marten and Daphne’s attention. Aiden strode out of the palace, his head held high with Excalibur sheathed at his hip. The black uniform he wore was rather plain compared to what many other lords were wearing.

However, Aiden didn’t need ornate clothing to draw attention. He was young, powerful and handsome. He would be a Prince even if he were dressed in rags. He was expressionless, his cold eyes sweeping over the crowd as if looking for threats.

Not finding any issues, the Prince seemed to subtly relax. The tension in his shoulders and the way he held himself eased. But Marten was under no illusion; Aiden was a viper ready to strike at any moment. He may be calm for the moment, but that could change in a heartbeat.

“Well, let the party begin.” Marten commented as he drained another glass of strong liquor. If there was going to be trouble, he wanted to be good and drunk for it. Otherwise, someone might expect him actually to defend their monstrous Prince.

There was no way in hell he was going to get involved in that.