Empires and Moralities
Prompt: "No," the Evil Emperor said to the demon lord "I will not sacrifice my captain of the guard to you. Not for all the power in the world. That is one line even I will not cross." Prompt Source: user KaiserArrowfield; subreddit “Writing Prompts”
"One line, he says," the demon Lord (his name was Forestqeue, thank you very much) said sarcastically as he gestured with his teacup. "One line you won't cross! Really? You also won't sell children into slavery-"
"It's abhorrent"
"-even pretend it's acceptable to muck about with sexual consent-"
"Because it's not, consent is clearly and easily defined as only valid if it's clear and ongoing!"
"-AND you won't do blood sacrifices, implied debt, indentured servitude, OR making questionable pacts with beings of dubious moral standard! And he says he has only /one/ line he won't cross!"
"Forest, we've had this argument every time you come over for tea, literally there is only one line, it's just that all of those things are well OVER my line. I'm starting to think she's right, by the way, and that you DO come over just to rehash this argument because it's a familiar stalemate."
"It's much easier than trying to rewrite tax laws in my own lands, I'll tell you that," the Lord shuddered and dumped the contents of a flask into his cup. It went from being tea-colored to looking like a slice of the night sky, barely contained by porcelain.
"It takes quite a lot of stress for you to break out the Astra Liquor, Forest. Other than the inherent difficulties you've expounded on- at length- of rewriting Laws that are inherently magically binding while simultaneously dismantling the magic of the previous Law, what else troubles you?"
"My daughter's started bringing suitors to the Palace," he groaned, putting his horned head face-down on the table and covering his head with both hands, claws working deep into his mane.
The Captain caught the cup before it floated off and broke on the ceiling.
"Does that not mean you can intimidate them properly, sir?" she inquired.
"I mean, yes, but tradition dictates I can't go full Fatherly Intimidating on them until after they make their courting intent known AND she picks one, THEN I can test him to see if he'll be a strong enough, or loyal enough, mate for my baby girl. In the meantime I have forty-seven peacocking little demons parading around my front Hall, getting into arguments, scrapping in public, damaging my furniture! Ohhhh they're insufferable. And I can't get any WORK done, they've bumbled into two different magical workings already- one of them is shapeshifted into a cow and has my mages wrapped up in how to turn him back, and two more are currently working their way through every brothel in the kindgom until their curse wears off, I don't dare start working on a Law with them in the Palace."
The Emperor, whom his enemies called Evil, and of course his people didn't (they called him by his name, Hardol), gave his friend a consoling pat to the hand.
"Have you considered setting them a Suitor's Task? You know, one of those traditional events held to weed out the less worthy of potentials by testing their wit or- well, I suppose two would run away with the 'vigor', so perhaps something about strength or political maneuvering instead," he chuckled, listening to Forest groan.
"Something to get them out of the palace for a day would let you work, though! At least in small stints."
Tired gray eyes peeked out from under the heavy brow ridges, and Forest sat up to take his cup back from Brigid.
"You sound like this is from experience."
Hardol grinned around his tea.
"Brigid has had excellent ideas for getting rid of unwanted pests that won't leave the throne room and keep complaining, repeatedly, about my lack of Heirs, and my lack of a Harem, and how they have numerous daughters available on offer," he said, tone as bland as his smile was wicked.
"Oh-ho! Now THAT'S what I come here for, do give me the gossip on what the dowagers got up to this time!"
The page who'd brought the tea slipped out, knowing he'd been noticed, but still quietly keeping up the pretense that pages and serving-boys were invisible, shaking his head as he removed the empty plates and cups from the first half of the "Demon Lord Negotiation Session" in progress. Yeah, his spy network hadn't lied; the "evil emperor, dominion of nations" wasn't evil to his own, and didn't care to sacrifice those who were loyal.
Maybe he'd keep this page gig. He liked it better than his last job.