Rimelion: The Exploiter

28. Debugging session

The Duke welcomed me into his cabin—or was it an office, even though we were on a ship? As I stepped inside, the crashing waves against the hull seemed to vanish, like I'd passed through a door into a bar. The space was far larger than Lucas's apartment in reality, complete with a bed covered in pristine white curtains. The Duke himself sat at a table near the door, flanked by towering bookcases crammed with volumes.

Before I could ask how the books stayed put on a rocking ship, he smiled at my startled expression. Gesturing to the chair across from him, he said, "Sit down, Baronetess, and tell me how you fared."

I nodded quickly and sat down. The chair creaked beneath me. What? Aren't I super light now? Should I worry about—Charlie! Focus! The Duke's expectant gaze, arms crossed, reminded me to stay on track.

"I met Queen Irwen," I said, crossing one leg over the other with deliberate effort. Success! "The barrier holding her is failing; it won't hold much longer. She told me herself."

A delighted, almost amused smile spread across his face. "I expected as much when I heard about the floaters." His eyes darted to my tiara, and his smile deepened. "I take it she recognized her daughter and crowned you as a princess, then?"

My body tensed. A shiver ran down my spine, cold sweat forming on my temples. "I... Duke, this is... I didn't..."

"You didn't what, precisely?" he asked, his approving smile adding to my unease.

"I mean, uncle? I did not betray the empire..." I murmured, my voice trembling as I avoided his gaze, my eyes darting toward the bed instead.

"I know, child. Trust me, I would know." With a swift motion, he opened a drawer and pulled out a crumpled, yellowed document. Its ink was faded, black in most places, but with a faint bluish hue in others. "Before the traitor imprisoned your mother, she wrote me this letter. She expressed her disappointment in me and declared that if I helped her reclaim our ancestral lands, she would pardon me."

He placed the letter on the table in front of me with a smug expression; the motion accompanied by a dull thud.

I stared at the paper, but the elegant handwriting was nearly indecipherable. Written in ancient royal Elven, it was far beyond my grasp—I was fluent only in common and modern royal Elven. My lips parted to protest, but his piercing gaze silenced me before I could speak. Reluctantly, I leaned forward to examine the letter.

Some words were familiar, vaguely resembling modern Elven, but the faded ink and her intricate script made it impossible to fully decipher. Not that any player would do better; the game's translators worked for spoken languages, not written ones. "Sorry," I admitted, "I can make out a few words... Something about 'under billows,' 'assay,' and 'riders on palfrey.' But I can't say I understand what it means."

The Duke's grin widened. "I'm surprised you could read even that much. You truly are my niece." He pointed to a section written in the bluish ink. "Here. She wrote she may become a myth and asked me to seed her stories into our populace."

No way. My eyes widened as the realization hit me. So that's why I've heard so much about her deeds, even deep in imperial lands.

"A myth?" I asked, my voice trembling slightly. "You're telling me she's..."

"Our true Queen," the Duke replied without hesitation.

"No, I meant—are the stories about her fighting Demons or defending us in the Dragon Wars true?"

His curt nod confirmed it. He returned the paper to his drawer, his expression unreadable. "I spread her deeds to build her myth, and now it has come to fruition. Sitra has recognized her as a mythical Queen. The barrier can hold a legend, but it cannot hold a myth. She will reclaim our kingdom from the human usurpers."