Wish upon the Stars chapter 535

The rest of the week flew by. Three days of training should have been  terrible, but I was so desensitized to the pain from the second day  that it almost seemed easy in comparison. I also stockpiled more wishes,  granting six a day for Camden, bringing my total of usable extra wishes  to four. When Saturday rolled around we all gathered at the tent where  Bethy dressed us in new clothes (we didn't want to keep wearing the same  fancy outfits) and went over the details before meeting Camden.

"Alright."  I said, looking around. "Benny, Celine, Callie, Chelsea, and Nat." I  counted off, just making sure I had everyone. "You're all coming along,  everyone else is heading back to Saltzburg to visit Zeke and Cass. We'll  meet up with you after the banquet."

We'd all been  outfitted in matching black and silver color schemes, albeit in  differing shapes, because they were apparently neutral colors. Some  houses had specific hues associated with them, so we'd had Bethy set us  up in something that wouldn't state any allegiance. We were representing  Camden, but only as mercenaries, and that gave us a bit of leeway,  where signing on with a Viscount as an actual vassal would be picking a  side.

Everyone agreed, and those of us going to the  banquet filed out, meeting up with a transport heading to the Clairdon  estate. Clairdon's eldest son, Sutton, was being 'honored' for his most  recent win against Highgrave's forces. In reality, Sutton hadn't done  much, and it was a badly disguised fund raiser for Clairdon to hit  people up for 'gifts'. People would give Sutton money, and Clairdon  would pocket the donations, keeping a ledger of who to pay back once he  beat Highgrave.

Because of the underhanded nature of the  exchange though, Clairdon needed to invite everyone nearby, claiming to  be hosting a formal event. It allowed all the sharks to circle, making  notes of clandestine alliances in order to exploit the support later if  things fell through. Sometimes overtly or sometimes just as leverage to  blackmail their own 'donations' in case of emergency.

I,  of course, had figured NONE of this out, and had it spelled out for me  by Callie and Celine. I think what really bothered me most about  politics was all the unspoken arrangements. So much of it was based on  'trust' which was just a devious way of saying conflicting and  coinciding interests and your knack for reading them, as well as your  information sources and their ability to keep you in the know so you  could read the nonsense a bit better than the other guy.

Not  that I couldn't DO those things if given the chance, but my nature was  more transactional. I liked my relationships codified into hard terms.  Contracts were one aspect, but even wishes were like that. I give  someone A and get back B. Simple and straightforward.

In  fact, I suspected recursion was partially to blame for my political  blindness. The perception of Wishmasters as being direct and to the  point was ingrained in our image. We could and would give you whatever  you wanted if you asked and could pay. We were seen as above the petty  bullshit, at least at the higher end of the spectrum. Of course, the  candidate's competition gave lie to that pretty overtly, but recursion  was based on perception, not reality.

That particular  realization had mostly been brought about by some careful reviewing of  my own thought processes. Whenever politics came up, something in my  head told me 'you're not good at this'. It was something I'd repeated to  myself so often it was almost a mantra, and something about that  behavior didn't seem natural.

I'd tried to ferret out any  other mental ticks I had that were similar, but nothing came to mind. It  only drove home how insidious recursion could be, and how even the  smallest bit of perception could worm its way into my worldview and  shift it just enough to be a problem. I was pushing back against it with  these political lessons, and I hoped to try to counteract more of the  harmful effects as I noticed them.

The transport to the  banquet was an odd thing. It was a magical vehicle, obviously, but it  had clearly gone through quite a bit of refinement. It reminded me of a  mixture between a fancy carriage and an old fashioned car. It was dark  metal with gold filigree along the panels on the sides, and the engine  was some sort of magical alchemical creation (I'd convinced the driver  to show it to me while we waited for everyone to get aboard). It was  strange to see a machine swirling bubbling blue glowing liquid through  what looked like steam chambers, but it was interesting to look at.

Camden  was waiting inside for us, the interior being larger than the outside,  obviously, and he poured us each drinks and chatted until we arrived at  the Clairdon estate and we all disembarked. When we came to a stop, he  addressed us. "Alright. My last advice to you is this. Do not agree to  anything. Do not disagree with anything. Speak often and say little.  Flattery is useful, but don't overdo it, or they'll sense weakness,  don't be insulting or they'll take offense."

I blinked at him in confusion. "So...what the hell are we supposed to actually TALK about? Aren't we here to make friends."

"Friends?"  He said with a laugh.  "You are here to be NOTICED. Do not make  friends. Friends come with obligation, and establishing those limits  your options. Don't express too much interest in anything anyone says,  or too little. Don't ASK for anything or offer any gifts. Taking a favor  implies a debt, and granting one suggests an alliance. I'll feel out  Prentiss while we're there and you can leave that bargaining to me. Any  questions?"

I had a dozen, but none of them seemed  important, so I just shook my head, taking Callie's arm as we stepped  down from the transport.

The night air nipped at my skin  as I took in the entrance to the massive mansion. Where Camden's manor  was luxurious, it was also defensible, with plenty of hidden (and not so  hidden) defenses. Clairdon's mansion, however, was a sprawling study in  largesse. A series of real gold hedges highlighted the open style of  the estate, showcasing a series of high rank statues made from precious  gems of multiple colors.

I assume they were going for  fancy and impressive, but honestly it mostly just came off tacky and  badly designed. My eyes hurt just from looking at the terrible  decorating. "Well, this is...unique."

Camden  snickered from beside me. "Yes, Clairdon is well known for his eclectic  tastes. It's my first time here, but I've heard stories. It's just as  interesting as described." I made a mental note of all the ways he'd  just politely stated that Clairdon was a dumb asshole with bad taste,  because it was pretty impressive and then we advance to the open doors  where a pair of hulking guards in thick metal helmets were standing  stock still holding giant spears.

From  behind them stepped a small, weaselly man with a thin mustache and  overly large spectacles that made his eyes look huge. "Names?" He  drawled in a snooty voice.

Camden  stepped forward, doing his whole formal announcement thing. To my  relief, he did ours too, introducing us as his vassals and letting me  skip the rigamarole. The weaselly man checked a list (a scroll he  unfurled about three feet as he ignored us) until apparently locating  Camden's name.

"You  may enter." He said officiously. "Be welcome in the home of his grace,  Baron Alexander Clairdon, on this, a day of celebration of his lordship  Sutton Clairdon, hero of the realm."

Camden  smiled tightly at him, nodding before escorting us past the guards.  Once we were inside, he scoffed loudly. "Hero of the realm. As if this  pissant backwater counts as a realm. In civilized parts of the Empire  they have men hung up and beaten for making claims like that. I hate  frontier showmanship. We're inside now, so just remember my advice. Be  friendly but superficial, and don't commit to anything."

We  nodded, then headed off to mingle, though we stuck together in groups  of two. Nat and Chelsea stayed together, my sister clearly being more  comfortable around family than on her own.

Callie  and I ended up in a small gathering of E-rankers, all conversing  quietly about the local economy. When they saw us, they smiled politely,  and a tall woman with dark skin and plaited green hair smiled kindly at  us. "Ah, newcomers. Greetings, my name is Baroness Natalia Danvers. Who  might you be?"

A  short man with an olive complexion and neatly trimmed red hair beside  her snorted. "You know who they are Talia. They're the Tolbert brats new  retainers. Introduced with use names, as I heard it. Solomon and  Nightstrike?" Part of the reason Camden had introduced us was so we  could keep my name a secret until we actually hit E-rank and came out as  Barons. We didn't want the other nobles figuring out his plan too  early.

Natalia  glared at him. "I was being friendly, Lucas. You should try it. Perhaps  if you adjust your bahvior your next wife won't leave you like the last  six."

The pompous man stiffened. "Those marriages were mutually dissolved." He gritted out. "We'd grown apart."

"A  bit of advice." She said patronizingly. "When you 'grow apart' from six  different women in a row, many of whom went on to have happy successful  marriages with other people, it might perhaps be time to address the  common denominator in all of those failed nuptial arrangements." She  gave him a sweet smile, and he turned and stalked off, trailed by a pair  of younger nobles with similar features I suspected were his kids.

Natalia,  now one of the only two remaining people in the small crowd, smiled  apologetically at us. "My sincerest apologies for Baron Myers. He's  unhappy about the Tolbert boy's insertion into our little slice of  heaven. He fancies himself a bit of a spymaster and he's been gathering  information to leverage the mess between Clairdon and Highgrave for a  few years. Tolbert's entrance shook up the hornets nest and rendered his  work up to this point moot."

I  wondered if he knew Anna, but it didn't seem relevant at the moment. I  offered a hand. "Solomon, as he said. This is my girlfriend  Nightstrike." She took our hands one after the other, shaking firmly as  she gestured to the last remaining noble from the original group.

"I  already introduced myself, and this is Lady Marcella Winfries. My  personal attendant." I'd been so wrapped up in what was going on that  I'd missed that the pale girl with metallic neon orange hair was F-rank  like we were. Her bright orange eyes lit up as she smiled at us,  dropping into the same sort of curtsy I'd seen from Celine.

"Milord."  She said formally. "Milady. Greetings from the nobility of Stratholme.  Be welcome to our home. I hope your stay is most pleasant."

I  nodded back, because that was apparently the protocol for curtsies.  Happy with the pleasantries, we  started making conversation, following  Camden's instructions as best we could. It turned out that talking alot  and not saying anything was actually really hard. I was impressed so  many politicians throughout history were so good at it. Making  meaningless conversation and committing to nothing at all took serious  concentration.

Luckily  Natalia seemed to know how the game was played, and she was able to  guide us through an entire discussion where no one said anything  relevant or meaningful at all. After about ten minutes we were out of  nonsense to chatter about, and we were about to say our goodbyes.

 I was just settling in for hours of unmitigated boredom when the music and  chattering stopped. With only that split second of warning, the lights  went out, and the entire banquet was consumed by darkness. As the screaming started, I just  sighed. Of course even the boring parties had to go wrong.