I Married Three Calamities (And Got A System For It)

Chapter 14: Chapter 14: Mallory and Old Charles

"Mistress, we received another call from the Joekiller." The butler said, his old, creased face flat and indifferent.

He wore the standard black-and-white butler uniform. His left eye was black, while his right was hidden behind a black eyepatch streaked with purple, glowing faintly within the pitch-black chamber.

His hands were gloved, held respectfully behind his back as he addressed the woman sitting in the bathtub.

Mallory Skygazer, mother of Moon Skygazer, said nothing for a while. The water in her bathtub contained hundreds of different poisons, potent enough to kill a Seeker-rank being with a single sniff.

She sipped colorless wine, her purple eyes thoughtful, distant.

After a long silence, she finally spoke:

"What do they want? Let me guess, Old Charles: confirmation of the news those little bastards shared?"

"Not quite, mistress." Old Charles said, "They already believe it. They must have found some way to confirm it."

"Lightbringer or Rose...or both."

"Most likely."

"Well, old sweetheart, what do they want, then?"

"The Heir of Joekiller is, let’s say, without mincing words, quite unhappy with the arrangement. Young Mistress Moon was promised to him, after all."

"Promises are made to be broken."

"Not with the Joekiller." The butler shook his head slightly, his white, weathered hair swaying, "They want an explanation for your actions, Mistress. And the Heir hasn’t given up his pursuit of Young Mistress Moon’s affection. And you know how the Joekiller operate."

Mallory said nothing, simply sipping her wine, the bathtub bubbling and popping intermittently.

"Tell the Joekiller I have no explanation to give." She said after a moment, "The only thing I’ll say is that we did it because Limitless instructed us to. If they wish to defy the Rightful Guardian, then by all means, they’re welcome to try."

"And if they’re not satisfied?"

"They can go fuck themselves, old sweetheart." Mallory replied with a predatory grin, "Do they think I’m afraid? Let those bastards dare knock on my door. I’ll explode their damn Bank."

Old Charles smiled knowingly, "I think ’You might direct further questions to the Rightful Guardian’ would be more diplomatic phrasing."

"You do you, Old Charles."

"And the matter concerning the Heir and the Young Mistress?"

"My daughter, Moon, refused the engagement. I don’t know what she discovered about the Heir, but she was ready to fight me over it. I could see her control slipping, in those moments." She turned to look at Old Charles, "and you remember the last time her control slipped, Old Charles. I did what was best. I honored her wishes, but I couldn’t let her stay here. She’d have caused us serious trouble."

"So you used this little farce of an alliance to send her away." Old Charles finished the thought, "You did it to protect her."

"To protect us." Mallory clarified.

"Is that so, mistress?" The butler smiled knowingly, "You specifically chose the boy because of Young Mistress Moon."

Mallory didn’t answer, continuing to sip her wine.

Old Charles wasn’t discouraged.

"I’m still amazed my old friend actually named his son Mars."

"He died before the boy was born." Mallory said, her tone suddenly bitter.

"But the fact the boy bears his name means he must have discussed it with the mother, extensively."

"It doesn’t matter." She said, as if trying to cut the conversation short, "I only chose him to give him a chance. If he’s even half the man his father was, putting my rebellious daughter at his side won’t be difficult."

"He’s a waiter, Mistress."

"His father was a damn servant, tasked with cleaning my room." Mallory snapped, glaring at Old Charles, "and yet he still managed to make a married woman fall for him. A bloody True Noble. A damn Prime. So don’t bring status into this. I made it easy for him by forcing the marriage."

Her smile suddenly turned sad, almost forlorn, as she whispered under her breath,

"I wish I’d had that same chance."

Old Charles fell silent after his mistress’s outburst. The subject of that man had always been a sore spot for her.

Especially after he’d married another woman. And especially since his death, a death that still haunted her to this day.

He sighed quietly, raising a gloved hand to brush wearily at his white beard.

"You mentioned him succeeding in winning the Young Mistress’s favor...but what about the other two?"

"That’s his problem to solve." She replied, "There’s nothing I could do about that. Lightbringer and Rose are troublesome."

"Allow me, mistress, to be presumptuous..."

"You’ve always been presumptuous."

"...and ask whether you’re deliberately making this harder for him, because of the boy’s mother?"

"Why would you think that?"

"Please, mistress, don’t make me say it."

"Say it."

Old Charles shrugged and spoke:

"Because you’re still bitter that the man you loved, the one you thought would always chase after you, left you for a...well, let’s be polite and call her a courtesan, and ended up having a child with her. A son, no less. You can’t have sons, mistress."

"You should have stayed quiet." Mallory hissed, "Now I’m tempted to kill you. Should I pluck out your other eye too?"

Old Charles smiled softly, "So what’s my answer, mistress? Are you making this deliberately hard for him?"

Mallory looked at him and fell silent. She composed herself, then smiled thinly, "I wonder, old sweetheart. Am I?"

The butler sighed and changed the subject,

"And if the Heir of Joekiller decides to attack him, over the Young Mistress?"

"He married my daughter." She closed her eyes, "He’ll have to bear the good along with the bad."

Old Charles chuckled low in his throat, "...I wonder what the good part is, here."

Mallory laughed, then slowly sank deeper into the poisonous water,

"There isn’t any."

Old Charles didn’t respond, and said nothing more, understanding his mistress was finished speaking for the day.

He stood there, still as a statue, his thoughts drifting back once more to the young boy and his father.

’Old friend,’ he thought, expression unchanged, ’I will pray to Mother Mercy for your son’s success.’

He closed his eyes.

’He will need it.’

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