"I don't like your eyes."
The words hung in the air, sharp and cold as icicles. I stood there, frozen, my mind racing to process Haly's unexpected statement. There was nothing in my research that had indicated she disliked the color red. I'd prepared for so many scenarios, but this... this I hadn't anticipated.
In that moment, I did the only thing someone can do when they don't know what to do: I shut the hell up.
The silence stretched, thick and uncomfortable, until my father's voice cut through the tension like a knife.
"Haly..." he said, his tone carrying a hint of reproach, "that isn't ladylike."
I watched as Haly's demeanor shifted, her cold facade melting away as she sauntered closer to my father. She placed a delicate hand on his chest, her touch light but deliberate. "Oh Arthur," she purred, her voice now smooth as silk, "an intimidating voice really doesn't suit you, but you are right as always."
I fought the urge to roll my eyes. The sudden change in her demeanor was jarring, but I kept my face carefully neutral. This was a game, I realized, and Haly was a master player.
"That's good," my father replied, his voice warm but professional. "Why don't we move on to the meeting chambers?"
Haly's lips curved into a smile that didn't quite reach her eyes. "Lead the way, Arthur."
We moved across the room, my father and Haly engaging in small talk as we walked. I trailed behind them, silent but observant, cataloging every gesture, every inflection in their voices. This, too, was part of my education.
It wasn't long before we reached our destination. The door to the meeting chamber was already open, two servants standing at attention, holding the doors wide. I noticed how their eyes carefully avoided meeting Haly's gaze directly. Even they knew the danger she represented.
"After you, my Lady," my father said, gesturing towards the open doorway with a fluid, practiced motion.
Haly moved with the grace of a predator, each step measured and purposeful. My father pulled out a chair for her, and she settled into it with regal poise. He then took his place at the opposite end of the table, positioning himself to speak with her face to face. I stood beside my father, my hands clasped behind my back, the perfect picture of a dutiful daughter.
My father leaned forward slightly, his elbows resting on the table. "Now, what is this meeting you wished to have with me, that I had to close a deal with another customer?"
As I listened to my father speak, I immediately caught the subtle lie in his words. 'Deal with another customer' – but we didn't have another meeting scheduled. This was classic negotiation tactics, and I felt a surge of pride at recognizing it.
By saying this, he was playing to two key points: first, making Haly think she was more important in my father's eyes, and second, appealing to her pride – a trait that all Devourers were known to grow as they advanced in ranks, though as a Primordial, she likely had ways to control it.
Haly's grey eyes flickered with something – amusement, perhaps? – before she spoke. "Well, it's simple, my dear Arthur," she began, her voice lilting. "You see, the mines have finally run dry. We'll need to go deeper into the Rocky Field to find a new source, and I was wondering if you had already finished the last design you so handsomely sold to me."
I watched my father's face carefully, searching for any sign of surprise or concern. But his expression remained perfectly composed as he replied, "Not yet, no. We are still a few years away."
A flicker of disappointment crossed Haly's face, quickly masked. "Oh, well, that's disappointing," she said, her voice carrying a hint of a sigh.
"I'm not sure if I can order the expedition if we don't have them. You see, as the deterrent of Plethegon, I can't leave the city lest the other barbarians attack us. Especially Babylon – my little salamanders have been telling me that they are preparing for war."
The casual way she mentioned her spies – her 'little salamanders' – sent a chill down my spine. No one knew, if she actually could speak to salamanders or if they were just codenames.
My father nodded gravely. "Yes, I've heard something like that as well. They have closed off their walls to everyone who isn't a Devourer. Last I heard, they recruited over 200 new Devourers into their military from the small cities."
"Indeed," Haly said, her fingers drumming lightly on the table. "So, as you can see, I can't leave this city without a Primordial, and I'm not exactly for sending Archdevourers down into the unknown without certain precautions."
"Again, we are still a few years away from making it," my father reiterated. Then, he added carefully, "If you would let us use more power from Apophis, maybe..."
Haly's eyes narrowed slightly at the suggestion. "Now, now," she said, her tone carrying a hint of warning. "You get 6% of Apophis' daily energy. That's more than even I get. I've even had to increase curfews and restrictions because of it."
She paused, her gaze drifting to the window, where the perpetual twilight cast long shadows across the room. "Sometimes I really wish we had taken Elysium's approach to energy usage, but it's in the past. Still, I guess that I'll have to cut your energy usage to 3% if we wish to sustain ourselves by selling excess energy."
I had stayed quiet throughout the exchange, but at the mention of Elysium's approach, I felt a surge of disgust. Elysium's energy policies were the most despised out of all the large cities. The fact that this woman, our supposed protector, would even consider such an approach... it made my blood boil. But I kept my face carefully neutral, remembering my role in this meeting.
"My Lady," my father said, his voice tinged with concern, "we still need that energy if we wish to advance."
Haly leaned forward, her silver hair catching the dim light. "I know that, I know that," she said, her voice soft but firm. "So, you see, how about we make a quid pro quo? I give you more energy if you use your wealth to sustain the city for a few years until we can find more mines. How about it? Isn't it fair to everyone?"
I watched as my father's brow furrowed slightly, the only outward sign of the calculations surely racing through his mind.
"Eight percent," she continued. "That's as much as I can give you. The sad thing is that I'll have to implement curfew at 9:00 pm."
I wanted to speak out, to point out that we couldn't sustain an entire city for years on end even with our wealth. But I knew when to shut up, and this was one of those times. I was only here to learn, nothing more, nothing less.
"Let me think about it," my father said, his voice measured.
Haly nodded, a small smile playing at the corners of her mouth. "Of course, Arthur. I don't want to strangle you. We still have enough from the mines to last us three, maybe four months. You have until then."
"Thank you, my Lady," my father replied, inclining his head slightly.
"Well, I guess I'm off then." With that, Haly stood up. In a gust of wind that ruffled my carefully styled hair, she was gone. I blinked, trying to process what I'd just witnessed. I didn't know how far she had gone, but the most likely possibility was that she had returned to her home, miles away, in a single second. That was the kind of power I craved, the kind of power that could change the world.
For a moment, my father looked downcast, the weight of the decision clearly heavy on his shoulders. Then he swiveled towards me, his gaze moving up to the ceiling.
"So, what do you think I should do, Princess?" he asked, his voice soft but expectant.
This was my chance to prove I wasn't just a battle maniac, that I could think strategically too. But the truth was, I didn't know. And the one person I had never lied to in my entire life was my dad. So I told him the truth.
"I don't know," I admitted. "I'd need to make some calculations."
My father hummed thoughtfully. "That's good," he said, nodding. "Not choosing when you don't have all the facts is smart. But I wasn't asking that. I want you to trust your gut, listen to all that hunger that is most surely calling at you, and make a choice. Not choosing at all is almost always worse than choosing one."
I closed my eyes, forcing myself to think beyond the immediate problem. How much money could it cost to maintain the city? To buy normal food for the non-Devourers? It all seemed to pile up, an insurmountable mountain of expenses. Even for us, it seemed too much. So, I made a decision.
"I would cut down on our energy supply," I said, opening my eyes to meet my father's gaze.
"A sensible choice," he murmured, his expression unreadable. "The choice most would make."
At his words, I felt a small burst of happiness spread across my chest. But it was short-lived.
"But I'm not most," he continued, and just like that, all the happiness vanished.
"But dad, we can't cover it," I started to protest, my mind racing with the implications of what he was suggesting.
He held up a hand, silencing me. "Don't worry, Princess. I've already done the math. Even if we started now, we have enough money to keep this city afloat for five to six years."
I felt my eyes widen in surprise. "But dad, we don't know if a war is actually coming. If it were, the prices would skyrocket."
"I know," he said, his voice calm. "If the war were to start, it would go down to a single year, two at most, depending on how much I'm able to sell before it starts."
"So why not go with the second option?" I asked, struggling to understand his reasoning.
My father leaned back in his chair, his eyes distant as if seeing a future I couldn't yet comprehend. "Well, Princess, if a war does start, energy would become much more expensive too. Meaning we can sell the cables at a much higher price. Probably not for long, until they stop relying on my own and just focus on their plagiarized ones, but still... we only need to hold out until the newest product is finished. After that, even if there is a war, we can end it and come out better than ever."
I felt a mix of admiration and unease at his words. This new product, I had heard about a few times already but what could be so amazing that it could end a war, still I put those thoughts to rest, for now that is.
"Okay," I sighed, accepting his logic. "So when do we tell her?"
"When she comes back," he replied. "We'll wait two weeks more."
He stood up, placing a hand on my shoulder. "While we need the energy, she also needs the money. So I'm sure I can pressure two more weeks out of her if given the chance. But until then, my Princess, grow strong and grow fast. If war is coming, you can't rely on the city, on money, on Haly, or even on myself. You can only rely on yourself. Do you understand, Elizabeth?"
He had used my name – my full name. He never used my name. He knew how much I didn't like it.
"I understand," I said, my voice barely above a whisper.