Tower of Avarice: A LitRPG story

Chapter 54 – Floor 6: Part 7

Princess Rehn sat alone in the garden at the rear of the Amadan ‘Embassy’ building on Center Island. She found it easier to relax when the minds of others were not near her, their intrusive thoughts not pushing against her mental barriers.

As a Psion, it took years of training to control their powers enough to be capable of interacting with those outside of one's own family. Particularly powerful individuals amongst her people may need to be isolated for decades, which had been the case for her.

At twenty-five years old, Rehn had only been allowed outside a secluded wing of the Royal Palace for a couple of years. Before that, she would only have contact with a few select servants, her family and special tutors who were teaching her to control her powers.

Everyone who interacted with her when she was growing up had to have impenetrable mental barriers or risk harm from her. It had been difficult, but she finally was deemed ‘safe’ to be around others. She still preferred solitude when she was able to find it.

Closing the book she had been reading and setting it on her lap, she watched the white sea birds wheeling overhead. They were crying out to each other, filling the garden with their song. The flowers the locals cultivated overpowered the smell of the ocean, something Rehn appreciated after three months at sea.

After a moment, a foreign presence intruded on the barriers she had erected around her mind. It was a mere brush, a gentle probing of her defences as a way to alert her of its approach. Another soon joined it, but the pair didn’t push further. Instead, they waited for her to mentally respond.

‘What is it?’ Rehn thought, the silent words broadcasted to the pair of locals responsible for overseeing the Amadan Embassy on Center Island.

‘A Champion of the gods has arrived with the Talrandian Delegation. He is demanding an introduction and meeting with you.’ The words carried across the distance, transmitted from the speaker's mind to hers without delay or hindrance by the intervening barriers.

With the message came an image of the Champion.

It was of a handsome and tall young man wearing the formal, ceremonial robes of the god’s Champion when they appeared amongst the Talrandians. He was clearly uncomfortable in them; he kept tugging at the collar, and his movements were too overstated for the outfit. His legs strained the fabric, which required smaller strides to accommodate the tight robes.

Rehn tried to probe his thoughts, knowing that he would have inadequate defences like all non-Amadans. To her surprise, her probe didn’t react at all. It was as if the Champion were not there, his thoughts non-existent.

Such a thing was impossible. All sentient beings had thoughts to read, even if they were simple creatures.

‘His thoughts are unknown to me.’ Rehn sent, and the reply came from the pair immediately.

‘To us as well. We believe the gods are shielding his mind to protect their secrets.’

Rehn nodded at the thought. It was the most plausible answer. The gods would not want them discerning their motivations or pulling back the veil on their mysterious ways so easily.

The things they could learn from the mind of a Champion was a temptation that neither Rehn nor the other Amadans would be able to resist. They would flay his mind apart to discover them if given the chance. Unfortunately, it seemed he was protected, untouchable.

‘He is determined to see the wedding to its conclusion. This will complicate things, Your Highness.’

Rehn let out a sigh. This blasted wedding was something that Rehn nor the Amadans accompanying her wanted to see happen. The peace would never last, regardless of what they did. The Talrandians were barbarians, little better than beasts, and it was they who had begged the gods for a peaceful resolution to this conflict.

The distance between the continents was not insurmountable. There were other means aside from ships to cross the Azure Sea. The Amadans and the Talrandians had access to magic, making the gap meaningless. It was expensive to create the portals, but it made incursions into the other continents possible.

They had only used ships to meet on Center Island to demonstrate their sincerity towards peace, but Rehn knew it wouldn’t make a difference. The Talrandian Prince would undoubtedly offend her and her entourage in some way, and they would respond in kind.

Center Island would be stained with blood regardless of the Champion's presence or wishes.

“Damn the gods.” Rehn whispered to herself. That statement would not be transmitted to anyone, a private blasphemy murmured to herself that she would never utter in front of another. The Amadans may be relatively secular, but they would never risk offending the gods and inviting their wrath.

No sooner had the words left her mouth than a trio of people were seen entering the garden. Ignoring the pair of Amadans in the lead, Rehn focused on the Champion.

The image she had been sent was accurate, although it hadn’t captured how impatient he was. He seemed to be chaffing at the sedate pace set by the Amadans. Rehn could tell that he wanted to rush ahead.

Amadans weren’t good at judging others by their expressions or the words they spoke. It was an unfortunate side effect of always knowing what other parties were thinking. Body language was nearly foreign to them, and Rehn knew that she would be at a disadvantage against the Champion if she couldn’t read his mind.

For example, she knew he was impatient to meet her, but Rehn had no idea if it was because he was eager to see her, get the wedding over with, or please the Talrandians. It could have been for any of those reasons.

Finally, the Champion stood before her. Carefully setting her book on the table beside her, Rehn slowly climbed to her feet and bowed slightly. Certain courtesies must be adhered to, even though she chaffed against them.

“Champion. I am Princess Rehn of Ama” She stated politely. The man from another world nodded before sticking out his hand in the manner of the Talrandian commoners. She hesitated for a moment before taking it and giving it a firm shake.

“I’m Mathew Larson of New York. I’m here to make sure this wedding happens. So, the sooner we get this thing going, the sooner I’m out of your hair.” Mathew said. He spoke quickly, and for an Amadan who was unaccustomed to listening to someone talking, it was difficult for Rehn to understand.

‘How much easier it would be if I could just hear his thoughts!’ She muttered silently to herself, not broadcasting the words to anyone. She knew the others shared her frustration. This Mathew Larson jumbled his words together more than a Talrandian!

“I…appreciate your efforts, Champion Larson, and I am honoured that you chose to come see me immediately on your arrival. But I fear your attempt will be in vain. There will be no wedding.” Rehn stated firmly, and Mathew nodded.

“I was worried you were going to say that.”

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Mathew's first sight of the Amadan Princess wasn’t anything special. Rehn was beautiful, with blond hair that was done into an elaborate braid stretching down her back and a white dress that looked perfect.

But he had seen beautiful women before, and after three months on a ship, he just wanted to get off this floor and onto the next.

Like the other Amadans, Rehn spoke slowly and with a clear lack of understanding of the proper pronunciation of the words she was speaking. It was like listening to someone who had learned a language from a book but had never spoken it before. It was technically correct but deficient.

“You cannot force a marriage between myself and the Prince. Even a Champion lacks that power.” Rehn said, and Mathew let out a deep sigh. He knew this wasn’t going to be easy.

“I’m not going to force anyone to do anything. And honestly, I don’t blame you for not wanting to marry a Talrandian. I would have prayed to the gods to sink that ship if I wasn’t on it. The ones I have met have been nearly all terrible people, and the Prince is amongst the worst of them.” Mathew confessed, and the Princess started in surprise at his honest words.

“But I need the wedding to happen if I’m to proceed to the next floor. So it will be taking place. I don’t care what happens afterwards; you can murder the whole lot of them as soon as the ceremony is over, but I need you to cooperate.” Mathew explained.

“So, what is it going to take for you to walk down the aisle?”