Umphrieltalia didn’t like the cold months. Snow and brisk winds reminded her of her time in the kingdom’s orphanage, nothing but unpleasant memories. If the caretakers had ever cared about their job, years of being mired in the tragedies of others had robbed them of that empathy. Their charges were nothing more than faceless burdens. Responsibilities rather than passions. There was never enough and, having always been quiet, Talia was often overlooked.

If her affinity wasn’t so valuable, she would have spent her childhood in the rundown building, a small bed cramped inside of a room with twenty others and two changes of clothing all she owned in the world. Then she would have been thrown out during the first week of her sixteenth year, deemed old enough to fend for herself regardless of her actual ability and lack of any education.

Being found by the scouts for the interrogators was the greatest fortune of her life. She didn’t mind that they had uplifted her from the squalor of the town for their own ends. Everything in life was based around contracts. Nothing was given without something taken in return.

The people who cared for Talia after her parents died in a raid did so for gold. The bigger children within the orphanage formed a gang that provided help and protection to their younger “siblings” in return for obedience. The interrogators would give Talia shelter and training in return for her future service and loyalty.

The same concept applied to everyone at all levels of society. Peasants paid taxes and obeyed their leaders in return for the stability and protection afforded by the king’s law. Nobles governed the land in return for prestige and wealth. The king guided the nation and in turn received the support of those he ruled. Every interaction was governed by a contract. When the contract was obeyed, all was well. When contracts were broken, it invited chaos.

And just like business contracts, sometimes terms needed to be renegotiated or voided entirely. There was nothing Talia valued more than her independence. As a blind child, she had been largely dependent on her parents. Being smothered by their concern had been uncomfortable but, tempered by their love, bearable.

At the orphanage, the care she received was always laced with scorn, when they bothered to care for her at all. She, who had never had a fierce desire for anything, formed a desperate craving for power. No, an obsession. She never wanted to be helpless again.

When she was introduced to Lord Remmings, the head of the interrogators, her teacher, and her adoptive father, he promised to take her to the heights of the mental affinity. In return, she would dedicate her abilities to the interrogators, in service of the people. Not as a tool to break criminals but as a diviner of the truth.

There was nothing more dangerous than a mental caster with an agenda. Though the interrogators were meant to be neutral, they were still human, vulnerable to temptation like anyone else.

What kept the royal family from acting like the Grimoires was Remmings. He made sure no one could blatantly use the interrogators for their own ends, maintaining his neutrality throughout decades of pressure assaulting him from all sides. If the interrogators were to have any future, his successor would need to have the same temperament.

There was no one more neutral than Talia. With no connections to any noble house, a sharp mind, and strength that had to be respected, she was the perfect heir. Everyone in the right circles knew that Remmings had been grooming her to replace him. A path she would have gladly walked.

Until she met Lourianne Tome and her succubi. Creatures she knew from her teacher’s complaints about his constant troubles shielding the capital from their corruption. Talia had been led to believe that they were skilled mental casters at the beck and call of the Grimoire family. A private army of casters funded by a noble family, a familiar occurrence made more troublesome by the affinity they wielded.

He never told her that the succubi were not skilled, but unparalleled masters. Like so many others, her teacher had equated a thrall’s relatively weak coefficient in relation to a master caster, to a similar level in skill. A ridiculous notion. The size of a being’s core had nothing to do with their knowledge of an affinity.

What her teacher considered the heights of the mental affinity was nothing but child’s play to the creatures who preyed on the mind. Not only did they have better spells, but they also had a greater understanding of how to use said spells for maximum efficiency. They also used the mental affinity in ways no human caster could imagine.

To compare Remmings to even the weakest thrall was to compare an ant to the saints. Too small to comprehend how insignificant his knowledge of the world was.

Even Talia couldn’t say for certain that she understood the true strength of the succubi, something that greatly excited her. That realization caused her to immediately re-evaluate her contract with her benefactor.

Remmings promised the interrogators would help her reach the height of the mental affinity. Given that he couldn’t comprehend how far he was from such a lofty height and he was the strongest of the group, he was unable to fulfill his part of the contract. Therefore, Talia saw nothing wrong with voiding their agreement and pursuing a new contract with the one who could fulfill her desires. Lourianne Tome.

A contract that was already proving more fruitful than her arrangement with the interrogators. In a matter of months, Geneva, her new teacher, had provided her a better method of cycling her mana to increase the growth of her core, provided exercises to improve her control of her mana, and given several lectures that changed the way she thought of the mental affinity.

That alone would have been enough but then Lourianne Tome, who she had gotten close to simply for access to the succbi, had provided her own value through summoning. One of her elementals had taught Talia to see.

She originally sought power to compensate for the weakness of her eyes but, thanks to Lou, that weakness had become a strength. She could see the world, in all its colorful glory, but she also retained the ability to see mana, the gift that had given her insight into Lourianne’s nature and prompted their association.

Talia also appreciated the change in circumstances. Working as a dorm mother, she had responsibilities to both the Grand Hall and the crown. It left little time for self-improvement, the reason she worked for them in the first place.

Having given up the position, she had much more free time. She could spend all day meditating to improve her core without worrying about a report she needed to turn in or being interrupted by a noble brat causing trouble. She could wake up when she pleased, take her time enjoying her meals, and go out for leisurely strolls through the garden. Talia had never been so free her entire life.

And what did Lourianne ask in return for all her gifts? A similar price as her previous benefactor. A lifetime of service. Not to a group or the people or the crown. Lou demanded a pledge to herself and her family. As a lover, as a protector, and as a confidante.

Talia believed in equal exchanges. What she was given, she would return. Lou and her household had gone far beyond expectation in regard to their part of their contract. Ergo, Talia would do the same. She would be the best lover she could be. What she didn’t know, she would study with the same zeal she applied to her magical training.

Kierra had already tested her in that regard. When Talia struggled to understand the role she was meant to play, the elf provided guidance, introducing her to concept of a “flower”.

Flowers were an essential part of nature while also being the frivolous indulgences of the wealthy. They were delicate, easily trampled by babes, but could survive in the harshest environments. The poisonous variants could be used to either heal or hurt. Most importantly, caring for them gave their owners a feeling of contentment.

Talia had to embody all these ideals. She was meant to be a soft comfort to the more ambitious members of the house, a quiet support to take their burdens from them when they returned from “battle” and ensure they were well-rested for the next. She was a trophy and a pet, to be doted on and cherished so that simply setting eyes on her filled her partners with a sense of satisfaction. She was to be charming, as radiant as a field of blooms in the summer and beguiling as white petals drenched in moonlight. Both with her words and her actions. Talia had never been a vain woman but it was her looks that had attracted Lou and she wasn’t above using them for her gain.

There was also her…marital duties. Lou made no secret that she wanted to be intimate with her, though she was surprisingly reticent. Likely because Talia showed no interest in the act. She never had, having spent her life observing the carnal obsessions of her peers with vague confusion when she bothered to pay attention at all.

She worried that her disinterest would make her a bad partner in that regard. If she didn’t fulfill what was expected of her satisfactorily, Lou might be tempted to end their contract. Something Talia refused to allow.

Thankfully, Kierra had been eager to instruct her once more. Talia hadn’t awakened any latent desire, but she learned that her body was capable of responding to touch. She could enjoy intimacy like anyone else even if she didn’t care for it to the extent of most others. She’d been worried that she would be repulsed by the act but after a few nights with the elf, she almost looked forward to it.

Yes, she looked forward to Lou’s return. Talia had been put in charge of the house while Lourianne, Kierra, and Alana fought in the northern campaigns. A time to be a poisonous flower that brought misfortune to anyone stupid enough to bring harm to the estate or the other members of the house. A task she would complete flawlessly.

Then, she planned to impress Lou with everything she had learned. Afterwards, given Lou’s doting nature and Talia’s role as the one meant to be doted on, it would be the perfect time to ask for a favor that had been on her mind for a while.

Talia wanted instruction in spellcraft. Specifically, she wanted Geneva, her new teacher, to examine the spells taught to her by her old teacher and tear them apart. To improve them. Show without a shadow of a doubt that the interrogators were languishing in mediocrity rather than at the heights of magic, as they believed.

She didn’t regret breaking her contract with the interrogators, but she did have lingering feelings for Lord Remmings. He had been…kind to her. One of very few people in her life that had. Goodwill should be repaid. So, she would offer him insight. Show him there was more. Open the way to a better future, the same as he’d once done for her. Then, their contract would truly be complete.

And who knew? Perhaps he would be ready for greater change. The interrogators could do much better than being the dogs the crown. Remmings always complained about other interests infecting the purity of their purpose. If they were able to establish themselves as third parties, beholden only to themselves, they could do a lot more to protect the people of the kingdom.

Lou could give them the opportunity and Geneva could make them something much greater than a bunch of hooded mysteries that never showed their faces outside the palace.

It might even finally prompt Lou to break out of her delusion of anonymity. The young woman seemed unusually opposed to the idea of a position of power, but she was only delaying the inevitable. Power like hers didn’t go unnoticed for long. Once it was discovered, she would only have two options, just as Talia had when she was discovered. Either she used her power or someone else used her. Sometimes, the two weren’t mutually exclusive.

Soon, sooner than Lou thought undoubtedly, the summoner would either rise on her own or be forced to do so. As her flower, Talia would quietly support her, her actions never seen or spoken of but known to those who mattered.