Chương 137: Chapter 158: Goals and Rumors

On Oneday I was cooled off a bit. A day of church, and contemplation, and companionship had given me the emotional space that I need to really work through what happened. A little distance and dispassionate detachment are just what I needed to be able to confront this issue. And the issue is "how did Nathan get Casser Swamman a ticket to Duke Eyellon's demonstration?" Oh sure there's plenty of other issues.

Like asking why my brother thinks that the scummiest slimeball in the whole damn game is someone to hype up and send after me. But these days I can't just ask. Nathan's figured out that I'm not eating up his stories like I used to. He's an incredible liar and manipulator. And I know it. And now he knows that I know it. Ugh. So there's little chance of getting any straight answer out of him. He'll just tell me whatever he thinks is going to move me to whatever course of action he wants.

Which is ironic, yes, coming from me because I'm trying like hell to move him to the course of action I want. It's funny that I spent years trying to gently prep him for the day that I would have to act against him. And instead he beat me to the punch. I guess he really was better prepared for this than I was. Anyway I am no longer quite so incandescently pissed off at him as I was on Sixthday. But I still fucking loathe Casser. And I've got this new anxiety plaguing me. Where is he going to show up next?

Because scaring him shitless is not going to get rid of him. Telling him that it will never happen does not get rid of him. Telling him a specific timeline and the reasons that I'm not dating at this time will not get rid of him. I might wind up dropping him down a volcano just for my peace of mind. The first half of my day was otherwise unmarked and unremarkable, and I occupied myself mostly with writing music.

This late in the year, I've already finished every worksheet and filled every workbook, I've read through the texts all at least twice and there is just no way to stave off boredom. Scoring Black Eyed Peas for a full concert is at least a way to pull some money in, and save my sanity. Not just from boredom in class, but from the various galas I attend. Every time I give this world another song from Earth, that's another chance that my next society event is going to play something other than the default music.

Last week I published Pride and Prejudice. Now that's got some people talking. When it comes time for our lunch break, I drop straight into a portal from Geography and step out into the front hall of the Student Center so I can stand, glaring, with my arms crossed, as the clerks from the dean of education's office come by with the pages and the pushpins to put up this semester's rankings. I don't hold back, I scorch them with a scowl and they avoid my gaze.

Others are filing in behind me, chattering, as the clerks start readying themselves and organizing to make sure there are no mistakes. I am planted in the middle of the hall, power-stanced, and their body language shows that they're aware, they keep hunching their shoulders as if to protect the back of their necks. After entirely too much dithering, the first one puts up a page and tacks it up, then steps to the side to get the next page.

These pages have an additional column that the rankings did not have last time we did this: an indicator of increase/decrease. You know, something like "Sicimmi Safis, #16, +4" to indicate that she had been #20 last semester, and now was up by four to take the #16 spot. Natalie Harigold, #1, +0 Kurumi Lautan, #2, +0 Keff Nurphy, #3, +2 And I smirked. It's now official. Not only am I the top spot for this semester, but I have been declared the top spot from last semester as well.

Last time, the only official declaration was "pending review". The cowards did not want to admit that they had posted blatantly false findings from doctored documents. Nathan did not even rank in the top 30. That's as far as I looked before I stepped back to give everyone else a chance, and walked away through a crowd that parted for me. Everyone else was still at the wall of rankings, so I had the dining hall to myself.

I walked through the line and picked out some chicken thighs cooked in a mustard sauce with rice, a bowl of cauliflower florets and a glass of milk. I strolled to my table and sat, relishing this day. First. That's what it's about, after all. I'm meant to be his [Rival]. And a rival needs to be in a superior position, right? I'm meant to be the lifelong winner that he has to contend against. He is meant to live in my shadow. And it took me far too long to figure that out.

The villain's job is to defeat the hero, destroy the hero. My role is more subtle. An impossible standard to live up to. An untouchable record. I am to make sure he understands he is less, in every way that matters. I don't need to destroy him. Just to beat him. Over and over, at everything. Grades. Sports. Fame. Popularity. Romance. Politics. He's not good enough to save the world. He doesn't know enough. He doesn't work hard enough. So it's up to me to save us all, because I'm better than him.

Finally, things make sense. I've been twisting on every other explanation for years. Bit by bit becoming disillusioned, confused, cycling through anger and spite and vindication and pain again. All because I did not understand what all of this is really about. The reason I was branded the Rival. I have wasted months because I thought my job here was to make him better. But I can't.

I lost my chance to make him better back when I decided that his freedom of will was more important, when I fought back against the goddess that turned me into a comet. She sent me here to make him better and I refused. So now it's up to me to do the job he can't do. What else could I be, except a [Rival]? More people were drifting in through the archways, making their way to the serving lines.

The chicken was delicious, the astringent mustard had helped the chicken's skin take on a crackling crispness, almost like fried chicken in texture but without using oil and bread to replace the flavor, instead taking a variety of seasoning to create and enhance flavor. It was a bit sharp though, and the cauliflower helped cut it. Vancy sat down next to me.

"So, it says your position didn't move."

"Yes it does," I said with satisfaction.

"And all I had to do was threaten extensive legal action, expose their corruption, point out that their position is literally impossible, and then start gathering favors with the right Houses."

"Wait, what?" she said. I rolled my eyes.

"All the rest of that just got them to admit that the results were contested and to try to cover it all up. I didn't get real cooperation until I got the Chantry leader of Rinksteach to Skydown Crossing, to meet former magister Nukhail." Elica and Rinnie were sitting down, and we both gave them nods. Vancy glanced back to me.

"Sorry, who and who and what?" I chuckled.

"An influential member of House Aumerje. I introduced him to one of the greatest magisters of the previous generation, my old magic tutor. For that favor, I'm currently a darling for House Aumerje. And that includes the Dean of Education, who smartened up right quick when he realized I was the new apple of the Chantry's eye.

Just like my dressmaker told me at the beginning of the year: if you're going to get anything done in Hearstcliff without having a hundred obstacles, you need to have the Houses hold you in favor." And Larianne was close enough to catch that last part. She nodded as she sat down.

"True. It's just hard to work your way up the ladder. The very powerful are the ones you need to impress, but the more powerful they are the harder they are to impress. Hand in hand." I cut into the chicken.

"Broadly true. But I've got contacts the Aumerje are hungry for, I know secrets the Skyback are eager to share, I have the potential to embarrass the Duke of Eyellon and I currently choose not to. I've got Freckentop in a delicate position, I've brokered a favorable alliance for Greifir and Brunbling, Duskare is in my debt, Tarratan has earned a lot of money and resources from my work, the Pinkings just kind of seem to like me, and the Kinghand clan appreciates how well I can keep my mouth shut."

In my peripheral, I saw Larianne's reaction. Slight, tiny, tight smile and a slight, tiny, tight nod. Reflecting the fact that Larianne Ebonder of House Ebonder has also appreciated that I can keep my mouth shut. Her family is deeply steeped in necromancy, and I'm one of the few that has earned the right to know that and live, mostly by proving that I absolutely can keep that a secret and be safe. Rinnie was staring at me incredulously.

"That's nine of the thirteen Great Houses. There's no fucking way." I shrugged.

"I'm actually pretty awesome, Rinnie, and everyone knows it but you."

"It's true," Yheta said, dropping into a seat between Elica and myself. She lit up and offered him a buttered roll. Rinnie sneered, and drank her tea. Elica spoke up to back her handmaid. Lackey? Henchwoman. I really don't know how to typify what's going on with those two. Anyway, she said "I also cannot see how this is possible. You were practically untouchable just a couple of months ago. You have barely been keeping your head above water in gala society for quite a while. How is it you're thriving so now?

As my girl pointed out, that's nine of the major houses, ten including the fact that you are the second heir of a Central House yourself. How have you reversed your fortunes so?"

"Fifteen percent concentrated power of will," I sighed.

"Some of it is good planning. A good strategy for the social season, stair-stepping my influence from week to week. Some of it is the nature of scandal- name recognition lasts longer than infamy, so the bold moves I made a few months ago are working to my advantage now. A portion of the credit goes to my unconventional knowledge, I know methods to curry favor that some would not admit to outsiders. The expedition to the Uchislowi jungle has finally reached its goal, so I'm sharing in the credit for that win.

A lot of this is just the way that I've been putting in effort for a long time and now it is all maturing benefits together."

"And top-ranked in the Academy," Yheta added. Elica wrinkled her nose.

"Can we leave that aside? I don't need to be associated with the sort of bookworms that evokes." I sighed.

"Now, if I can just get our camogie team a first-place trophy for the season, I'll be all wrapped up." Elica shook her head.

"All work! All the time! No wonder you're always so cranky!" I'm more concerned about my continuing slide into homicidal nihilism, but sure- let's worry about whether or not I'm 'cranky'. She was not a mind reader so my thoughts did not interrupt her exclamation.

"Really, Natalie, you must get a real hobby. Not just shopping for chocolate. And not just attending church, either! Something you do for fun, and only fun. You've been blowing off game nights.

Your weekends are all work work work and you've turned over your entire social calendar for the sake of climbing a social ladder and yes I know that I'm doing the same thing like a hypocrite but your school activities are an exhausting field sport you obsess about with competitions, your electives are taken up with sorcery and you're driving yourself to be the best in the world or something, and all the natural philosophy and inventions!

When you do seem to be socializing I always find out later that you're building connections to further some other cause... and any time you've got a free moment you're writing something that you want to sell to the world. Everything with you is goals goals goals and I think maybe you should take up embroidery or join us at a theater sometime. Really now, what is it you want from all this effort?"

"Queen of Hearstwhile," I said evenly. Rinnie rolled her eyes.

"Still not funny." Vancy disagreed, she was giggling. Yheta, Elica and Larianne traded a three-way glance, avoiding my level stare and placid face. They knew I was not kidding even a little bit. I looked across the cafeteria, eyes of the owl. This time last semester, there was a flock of fawning flatterers falling all over themselves to be near Nathan and bask in his wonderfulness. But he did not have that "number-one" shine on him this time.

And he's not been his smiling jovial self lately, effortlessly charming everyone about him. He's missed several days here and there, while he was trying to find some sign of Princess Lachel. Catching up in those classes to make up the absences has been eating all of his time and energy since then. His association with her has been weighing down his popularity- as my star waxes, so his wanes.

The princess was an absentee saint shortly after her disappearance, the touch of tragedy made it unthinkable to say anything negative about her. But after a few weeks and the increasingly obvious answer that she will not return, the panegyrical paeans of the princess have slackened off, and now she's more of "that Freckentop girl who used to be around here", with notes of her family's touch of necromancy and crop-poisoning. Latching his wagon to that horse has driven supporters from his cause.

He's not eating alone. He's still got a few close friends, and he's witty and thoughtful enough that people like being near him. Not to mention a circulating cast of paramours: today he's eating lunch with Kurumi Lautan, which is a good move on his part. Today she's riding high as #2, and associating with her could remove some of the stink from his attempts to steal the class rankings. But this is a long fall from the autumn, when he was the king of these halls.

I washed my essence clean so I could pay full attention to my friends.

"Vancy," I said, "how has everything been at crossbow practice?" She swatted my shoulder.

"You've ruined it, you know! They installed that stupid contraption of yours to reload for us, and now all we do is line up at the lanes and listen to that blasted machine clacking and rattling all the time! It used to be such an easy course, I would take a shot, and then sit down and affix the winch and chat with the others while we all re-nocked our bows and loaded. Maybe a dozen shots per class, tops! But now it's all just work-work-work!

I ought to just drop some honey in its hopper so it won't work any more and I can go back to having fun!" Larianne stifled a laugh.

"The same thing happened at the yearbook committee. They used to just sit around and while away the afternoon doing woodcut portraits, but someone came along and invented a new movable-type press, and they get no peace at all."

"Not my fault," I blurted out.

"I didn't touch that one."

"Your department did," Larianne shot back. Elica pointed her fork at me, squinting suspiciously.

"You'd best not do anything clever that makes embroidery into hard work, Lady Harigold." Yheta leaned back arrogantly, folding his hands behind his head.

"Well, I say do your worst. I'm out of this school in another five months. Any more changes you make aren't going to affect me before I graduate." Elica prodded him with her knee.

"You're slouching, and you're rumpling your jacket." He grumbled and sat up straight, smoothing his coat. Vancy sighed.

"Still, I guess it could be worse. Some of those girls in the archery classes are just awful. Maybe it's better that I'm really practicing my aim instead of associating with those types of gossips." Elica looked surprised, and I'm sure I did too. She spoke ahead of me though.

"But, I thought we were those types of gossips!" Vancy laughed a little.

"Well, sure we are! But it's all in good fun when we do it! These people are just kind of... ick. Morbid, and cruel. They're still bringing up all that stuff about poor Quinnifred." I had to dig for the name.

"Quinnifred Horvin?"

"Yes, that's the one," Vancy said.

"Poor girl." Elica looked baffled, and I filled her in.

"She was a student here, but disappeared. Some months before the princess did."

"Disappeared?" Vancy said.

"Oh, no, she is quite dead! Her, ah, remains were found in a hayloft back near her home." What the fuck? She was fine when I left her! Elica looked uncomfortable.

"And, ah, this is what was so awful?" Vancy shook her head.

"No. The investigation... um, she suffered a lot before she died. And it was, uh, the kind of thing normally associated with a very personal attack. And," she winced, "evidence that lots of people were involved." Elica went pale. Larianne and I were already there. I dropped her off back home to get rid of her so I'd get a favor from Sicimmi. I thought she'd walk home, and either drop out of school or ride back in a carriage. But...

But from what Vancy describes, she might have stumbled onto a group of people that hated her enough to kill her, viciously, and hide her in a hayloft. Considering how effortlessly cruel and harsh she could be, it stood to reason that she had a lot of enemies. Maybe the people of her home district were even more sick of her than Sicimmi was. Her place in the story was that of a bully and tormentor, there was not much more to her.

I did not feel particularly bad about it, but I'd have to sit with these feelings a while and really examine myself. But since her entire role in the world is to be an evil bitch that makes people hate themselves and drop out of school, I can't imagine I'm going to discover a warm burst of regret for my part in this.