Extensive training has increased your attributes!

+12 Endurance

+12 Strength

+12 Kinesthetics.

+8 Stability

Old Salt has reached level 14! 70% Correction

Drafting has reached level 17!

Chained Spirit has reached level 24!

Abyssal Alchemy has reached level 12!

Trait Doctoring has reached level 16!

Calvinian Summoning has reached level 28!

Bent Manipulation Has reached level 12!

….

***7 Months later**

The time passed quickly for Calvin, between literally cleaning up a war, being present enough to keep a firm hand on Uleis, preparing to lead an expedition into the jungle to literally found a kingdom, wrangling an army full of Legends, visiting Karen’s baby – he was ugly – and preparing for Kala’s birthday party, Calvin had barely been able to stay in one place for longer than a minute or two.

It was an interesting dichotomy then, that while Calvin hated balls in general, he relished the opportunity to sit down.

Calvin was enjoying his seat beside Ella when he spotted a dark haired Ilethan approaching Kala. Calvin tensed up a bit instinctively, but it didn’t turn out to be that kind of assailant.

“Miss Entredez,” I am thrilled to make your acquaintance,” The tall, handsome princeling said, bowing deeply to place a peck on the back of Kala’s gloved hand. “I am Dorian Ilestar.”

I’ll bet you she’s gonna want to burn that glove later, Elliot said as Kala met the suitor from Iletha.

No bet, Calvin thought, sipping the expensive wine. He still wasn’t comfortable with this kind of scene but he’d gotten better over the last few months of non-stop attention. Now instead of feeling like an animal trapped in a cage and poked with sticks, he felt like an animal trapped in a cage and preforming tricks for Koben nuts.

The key differences being an absence of sticks and abundance of nuts.

“I know my word carries likely carries little weight in your heart, but know that I am deeply regretful that the conflict between our people caused a mar on your childhood, and I hope you will tell me if there’s anything I can do to help you or the people of Gadvera.”

“I don’t regret the mar on my childhood,” Kala said, smiling as the man straightened in front of her a full head and a half taller than her. “It was quite formative. I wouldn’t be the same princess you admire today without it.”

“Um…really?”

“I regret the thousands of people who died.” Kala said succinctly.

“Oh…I’m…um. Sorry?”

The sheer panic on the young man’s face broke through Calvin’s defenses and he accidentally spat up some of the wine onto the white lace table and the puff under his collar before breaking into a coughing fit.

“Sorry, sorry,” Calvin said when the two of them looked over at Calvin curiously while a maid angrily tore off his tie and whipped the tablecloth out from under the fancy wine cups without spilling a single one.

Ella, unable to enjoy the wine with them, made due with the longweed Kala had given her last year. there was only a little left, and she saved it for special occasions.

“You must be The Wasp.” Dorian said, focusing his blue eyes on Calvin’s face

“Yeah, that’s me.” Calvin said hoarsely, nodding.

“It wasn’t a hard guess, with you being the only Malkenrovian in this gathering.” Dorian said, scanning Kala’s eighteenth birthday party. The guests were about eighty percent Gadveran, ten percent foreign diplomats, five percent wealthy businessmen hoping to meet her father, four percent political cling-ons, and one percent friends and family.

“This is so exciting!” Dorian said, rushing to Calvin’s side and clasping his hand, grinning from ear to ear. “I heard that you invented an entirely new form of summoning magic that puts Malkenrovian demonology to shame, and you used it to bring the Ilethan offensive to a grinding halt! And only at sixteen!”

“Seventeen there towards the end,” Calvin mumbled, withdrawing from the beaming young man. “And wasn’t it your people I stopped?”

“Well yes, but not mine personally.” He said, “I was spending most of my time putting the finishing touches on my education. Statescraft, etiquette and the like.”

His eyes blazed with passion as he stared into Calvin’s intently. “It lit a fire inside me when I heard of a boy my own age not only participating on the battlefield, but excelling. A captain at that age, then a Marquis less than a year later?”

“If he can do it,” Dorian said, staring off into the distance. “What excuses do I have? Stories about you really spurred me to be the best that I could be. I’m a huge admirer.”

“Umm…” Calvin’s jaw hung. He wasn’t expecting one of the men on the short list of Kala’s suitors to be…nice. Or a fan of his, even. Especially not someone on the opposite side of the most recent war.

It was highly suspicious.

Before Calvin was able to respond, Kala inserted herself back into the conversation and through some kind of verbal magic, detached him from Calvin and sent him out to make the rounds and introduce himself as the new Ilethan diplomat.

“That guy?” Calvin asked, thumbing over his shoulder as Dorian greeted one person after another with a smile, a firm handshake, and a look right in the eye, something that Calvin couldn’t quite bring himself to do, as it was uncomfortable and struck him as disingenuous.

Reluctance to socialize had earned him a bit of a reputation as a hermit, but Calvin thought that was a skewed opinion of him. He liked socializing just fine with people he already knew.

“I know,” Kala said, rolling her eyes. “At least he’s not thirty years older and my cousin,” she said, shuddering and taking a big gulp of Calvin’s wine.

“That makes four thus far?” Calvin asked, glancing around the room. There were four men with the potential to marry Kala, and they were all present in the Ballroom.

Dorian Ilestar was the black haired, pale skinned young man mingling and seemingly enjoying it, While Kala’s traitor cousin stood on the other side of the ballroom, interacting with the older, richer, fatter crowd.

“One thing my father has guaranteed me,” Kala said, following Calvin’s gaze, “Under no circumstances will I ever be married to him.”

“Well of course,” Calvin said turning back around in his seat before anyone caught him staring at the man who’d tried to kidnap her when she was twelve.

“Aside from the fact that I’m obviously going to be the one who marries you, I’m fairly sure that you would kill Lumentrias before he could get his pants off.”

“Oh, absolutely,” Kala half growled. She spotted someone across the ballroom and handed Calvin his wine back. “Gotta work.”

“Have fun,” Calvin said, waving her off. Kala glided away from the table and intercepted a gaggle of older women, drawing them into a hushed conversation with what could only be some kind of sordid gossip.

The how and why of it went completely over Calvin’s head.

“Because she’s the dowager duchess of the all the land southeast of Mujenan, which took a huge hit when the Hash’Maje carved a chunk of her dead husband’s lands away to grant you your title.” Ella said, her foot up on the table.

“She hopes to patch things up with the old hag so the woman doesn’t carry a grudge against you in the future. After all, if you want to establish trade between Juntai and Gadvera, that woman will literally be standing between you and Mujenan.”

Calvin glanced over at Ella, who was taking a break from devouring a plate of whole roast Tarka.

“How do you know all that?”

“Book club,” Ella said with a shrug.

“Ah. Well, I guess I’ve got to get up and make the rounds.”

“Not me,” Ella said. “You hate it enough for both of us. I’ll be here nursing this,” She said, pointing at her pipe, another gift from Kala.

“Got it.”

Calvin stood and took a deep breath before heading into the fray, forcing himself to smile and shaking hands, trying his damnedest to remember the names of the faceless goons attending Kala’s birthday party. Most people knew who he was, and even a little of his relationship with Kala, but the most common gossip was who would be chosen as Kala’s fiancée before her twentieth birthday.

Most people were debating whether it would be Dorian from Iletha or Tzen Chu, from Boles, as either one would lead to a quick end in the hostilities between Iletha and Gadvera.

Some said Dorian was the natural candidate since with Ilethan blood in the royal line, they would be able to come to terms with the ilethans far easier than before.

Others said the balance of trade would shift toward Gadvera if Kala took Tzen’s hand in marriage, ensuring that Gadvera had the money and manpower to stop any further wars before they even began.

The point’s moot though, because that princess is mine. If Calvin had learned anything about politics, it was that a royal marriage was carefully chosen based on what guaranteed the most good for the country.

Boiled down to its simplest, Calvin had to prove that marrying him was the most beneficial, least damaging course of action for her dad.

“Oh, you must be Tzen,” Calvin overheard Dorian speaking, dragging his attention over to the middle of the room, where the two richly dressed young men were looking each other up and down.

Well, Tzen was, regarding Dorian’s outstretched hand with a haughty air and an impolite sniff.

“Please forgive my master, he may not touch anyone lower in station than himself. Please understand.” The man’s servant said, sweating profusely as he bowed deeply to Dorian’s confused mug.

“but…I’m a prince.” Dorian said, looking genuinely confused.

“Your father is a king. Mine is an emperor.” Tzen said.

Dorian blinked off his confusion. “So if you can’t touch anyone lower than yourself, how do you plan on…” he reddened. “You know, seal the deal, so to speak.”

Tzen waited impassively as the servant translated the euphemism for him.

“Concubines are an exception of course.”

Dorian’s knuckles tightened around his cup. “Right. You came to Kala’s birthday party to offer to allow her to be a concubine?”

I’m with this guy, Calvin thought as he felt the dislike radiating between the two princelings with Open Book.

“It’s a perfect position for her status. The gifts I brought for her nineteenth birthday are not only appropriate for her new role, but also sure to impress upon her father why an alliance with our empire would be more beneficial.”

“What, silk?” Dorian asked. “any gain to be had in trade with you would be regained twice over by peace with Iletha. My present isn’t fancy silk and jade, but real connections with people that aren’t half a world away, but practically neighbors. I bring blood, wood and steel.”

“Common,” Tzen scoffed.

“Now hold up,” Calvin interrupted, joining the discussion, throwing an arm around their shoulders. “Why don’t we have a gentlemanly wager?”

The Bolesian servant’s eyes nearly bulged out of his skull.

“You must stop touching my lord at once!” he hissed.

“I’m not touching him, I’m touching the silk on him.” Calvin shot back. “Now don’t make a scene, do you want to embarrass your lord?”

“Who is this plebian?”

“This is The Wasp,” Dorian began enthusiastically. “He –“

“I killed a lot of people last year,” Calvin finished the story for him. “Now, I was more interested in this gift-giving idea. After all, it is Kala’s birthday. I think a bet is in order?”

“If you wouldn’t mind – “ Dorian started.

“What bet you ask? How about whoever’s present is the best has sole claim to Kala’s hand in marriage?”

“Preposterous.”

“Absolutely not,” Tzen said.

“I guess you guys aren’t as confident as I thought,” Calvin said, taking his arm away from Tzen’s shoulder so the servant would stop pinching him. “How about this then? The worst present-giver out of all her suitors has to admit he’s out of her league and bow out gracefully?”

Calvin glanced around at the onlooking suitors. Of course dozens of men wanted to marry Kala, but only a handful had any chance of making that happen.

“Come on, the math favors you two.” Calvin said, glancing over at Lumentrias. “Make the bet. You’d also have an excellent chance of humiliating her cousin.”

Calvin glanced between the two suitors.

“She hates her cousin,” he said, pointing the fat man out.

Dorian’s eyebrows raised as he studied Lumentrias and his outfit. “The man has stains on his shirt.

“Yeah, it hasn’t been great for him recently,” Calvin said, following Dorian’s gaze. “The man’s been holding onto the suitor title by a thread since the end of the war, when he started mysteriously hemorrhaging money.” Calvin mysteriously ran his finger around the edge of his wine-glass, wiggling his eyebrows.

“Alright, I’m willing to take part in such a wager.”

The Bolesian prince was silent for a moment as he deliberated.

“I will as well.”

“Excellent!” Kala said, emerging from behind Tzen, startling all of them. “I’ll talk to my father and make it official! I so look forward to the unveiling!”

The Bolesian prince’s servant held his hand over his heart while the dusky skinned princess trotted away, dress fluttering in the breeze as she went.

The two princes, however, eyed him suspiciously, suspecting a set-up. Which it was.

“What?” Calvin asked innocently, drinking the rest of his wine and grabbing another bottle off the table next to him. His superhuman endurance was starting to make it difficult to maintain a buzz.

A few minutes later, Kala’s father made the announcement that there would be a competition for ‘most impressive’ present, and the least impressive of which would be the least fitting for her hand in marriage.

Which, without saying, implied that the most impressive gift was from the one most suited to marrying her. Heavily implying something was good enough in front of an audience like this.

Gods, I love it when a plan comes together.

Unless you don’t actually have the most impressive present. Nadia’s voice echoed inside Calvin’s mind.

Nah, I got this in the bag. Hands down.

Calvin Gadsint

Body: 34

Strength: 24

Kinesthetics: 24

Endurance: 24

Mind: 45

Intuition: 30

Stability: 39

Will: 38

Bent: 40/39+5

Warp: 8/8

Skills:

Stealth 7

Playboy 11

Old Salt 14

Sense-Grafting 20

Dupdomancy 22

Meditation 25

Chained Spirit 24

Calvinian Summoning 28

Your Princess is in Another Castle 18

Beli Ma 25

Genosian Language 5

Shifting 15

Abyssal Alchemy 12

Drafting 17

Bent Manipulation 12

Trait Doctoring 16