The Last Human: Unlimited Power, Unlimited Beauties

I returned to the castle without incident.

Well, mostly without incident.

The important part was that nobody arrested me, nobody dragged me into an interrogation room, and Nemris did not personally throw me from one of the palace towers.

By my standards, that qualified as a successful evening.

Apparently Zeria had already made it back to her room by the time the search parties found her.

Very convenient.

Almost suspiciously convenient.

The Great Sage had somehow transformed from fugitive street-food enthusiast back into respected royal adviser before anyone could catch her committing the terrible crime of enjoying herself.

Meanwhile, I had less talent for strategic disappearance.

A pair of knights found me wandering through one of the castle corridors with absolutely no idea where I was going.

Again.

This palace needed signs.

Simple ones.

ROOMS THIS WAY.

FOOD THAT WAY.

ROYAL PEOPLE, PROCEED AT YOUR OWN RISK.

Instead, every hallway looked like the previous hallway had reproduced.

White stone.

Gold decoration.

Paintings.

Statues.

Doors large enough to admit emotionally secure giants.

The knights recognized me and escorted me back toward the residential wing.

Nemris was waiting there.

Of course she was.

She stood near an intersection with her arms crossed, golden armor catching the torchlight.

The two knights guiding me slowed.

I slowed too.

Nemris looked at them.

Then at me.

Then back at them.

”Where did you find him?”

”East corridor, Lord Commander.”

”Wandering?”

”Yes.”

Nemris’s eyes returned to me.

I smiled.

”Exploring.”

The knight beside me looked away.

Coward.

Nemris did not answer.

That was worse.

She simply stared.

Her expression said she knew something had happened.

Not exactly what.

But something.

Maybe she had noticed Zeria vanished shortly after I left the throne room.

Maybe she had noticed I disappeared too.

Maybe she had found crumbs from monster meat on Zeria’s dress.

Maybe the Great Sage had returned smelling like fried food and poor decisions.

Nemris did not have evidence.

I could see that frustration sitting behind her eyes like a prosecutor missing one final witness.

I smiled pleasantly.

She narrowed her eyes.

Still, she did not look especially angry.

Suspicious?

Absolutely.

Annoyed?

Always.

Ready to kill me?

Surprisingly, no.

Progress.

Beautiful, confusing progress.

”Did you enjoy your evening?” she asked.

I considered the wording.

Very careful wording.

”Yes.”

”Anything interesting happen?”

”Several things.”

Nemris waited.

I waited.

One of the knights suddenly became extremely fascinated by a nearby painting.

Nemris exhaled through her nose.

”Go to your room.”

I placed one hand over my chest.

”You say the sweetest things.”

”Caled.”

”Going.”

I left before she decided patience was a limited royal resource.

A servant showed me the room King Viar had assigned to me.

Calling it a room felt disrespectful.

It was closer to a private apartment disguised as one.

Large bed.

Carved wooden furniture.

A writing desk.

Several chairs.

Tall windows overlooking one of the inner courtyards.

A private bathing room.

Wardrobe.

Rugs so soft I briefly considered sleeping on the floor just to experience them properly.

Apparently becoming a temporary royal diplomat came with excellent housing.

I approved of government employment.

For now.

I dropped onto the bed.

The mattress absorbed me.

My last thought before falling asleep involved Zeria’s blushing face after the kiss.

Then darkness won.

The next thing I heard was knocking.

Not Nemris knocking.

I knew that already.

Nemris knocked like the door had been accused of treason.

This was softer.

Three quiet taps.

A pause.

Then another.

I opened my eyes.

Morning sunlight filtered through the curtains.

I sat up.

My hair was probably fighting several independent wars.

My shirt was somewhere near the wardrobe.

I had slept topless again.

A pattern was developing.

I stood.

The knocking came again.

”Coming.”

I crossed the room and opened the door.

Princess Leyra Goldmane stood outside.

I blinked.

Yesterday, she had worn pink.

Today, blue.

A light-blue dress fitted neatly around her waist before falling in soft layers toward the floor. Tiny embroidered flowers decorated the sleeves and lower skirt. Her golden hair had been arranged carefully, partly pinned behind her head while the rest fell over her shoulders.

She looked exactly like the delicate crown princess her parents believed her to be.

Elegant.

Soft.

Graceful.

Completely harmless.

Which would have been much more convincing if I had not watched her beat a Rockkin half to death for entertainment.

I leaned against the doorframe.

”Yo.”

Leyra’s eyes lifted to my face.

Then dropped.

Chest.

Stomach.

Back to my face.

Her expression remained perfectly composed.

Mostly.

”You truly enjoy answering doors without a shirt.”

Her voice was soft.

Sweet.

Princess voice.

But her eyes were not.

Those blue eyes carried the same irritation I had seen through the Merciless Lioness’s mask.

There she was.

I smiled.

”Bad habit.”

”So I have noticed.”

”You’ve only seen it once.”

”Twice is enough to establish a pattern.”

”Look at you. Already teaching.”

She sighed.

A gentle little princess sigh.

Probably practiced.

”Get ready. Your studies begin this morning.”

”Immediately?”

”That is generally what morning appointments mean.”

The fighter had slipped into that sentence.

I stepped aside.

”You can wait inside.”

Leyra looked past me into the room.

Then at me.

Then her gaze dropped again.

Not dramatically.

But enough.

Chest.

Abs.

Her eyebrows pulled together slightly.

Interesting.

I said nothing.

I had recently discovered that saying nothing was occasionally more effective than flirting.

Leyra cleared her throat.

”I will wait in the library.”

”You sure?”

”Very.”

”Comfortable chairs in here.”

”Library.”

She turned.

Her movements instantly returned to perfect royal elegance.

Back straight.

Hands gently folded.

Measured steps.

Not a hint that she could probably throw one of the corridor guards through a window.

I watched her walk away.

A smile crept onto my face.

”Very convincing, Princess.”

Her ear twitched.

She did not turn around.

Even better.

I closed the door.

Bath first.

The castle provided hot water quickly enough that I briefly considered pledging lifelong loyalty to Inizio based solely on plumbing.

I washed, dried, and approached the wardrobe.

Clothes had already been prepared.

Several outfits.

Someone in this castle apparently expected diplomats to change clothing more often than normal people changed opinions.

I selected a dark formal coat over a clean pale shirt, fitted trousers, polished boots, and a simple belt with subtle gold detailing.

The whole combination made me look disturbingly respectable.

I stared at myself in the mirror.

Black hair.

Black eyes.

Pale skin.

Sharp new clothing.

Yesterday, I had looked like a traveler who accidentally wandered into a palace.

Today, I looked like I might own part of it.

Dangerous improvement.

For a change, I brushed my hair upward instead of letting it fall naturally.

I tilted my head.

”Huh.”

Dashing.

Maybe princely.

Probably illegal in several conservative nations.

I left the room.

Then immediately encountered my oldest enemy.

Castle geography.

I asked the first servant I saw.

”Library?”

She pointed.

”Straight ahead, second corridor on your right, down the stairs, then through the gallery.”

”Perfect.”

I followed the instructions.

Then asked another person five minutes later because apparently ”gallery” meant something different to wealthy people.

Eventually, I found it.

The royal library was enormous.

Of course it was.

Nothing in this castle understood moderation.

Tall shelves stretched upward toward vaulted ceilings.

Rolling ladders rested against some sections.

Long windows filled the chamber with morning light.

Rows of reading tables occupied the central floor.

The smell of old paper, polished wood, and dust hung quietly in the air.

Thousands of books.

Maybe tens of thousands.

Nemris probably entered this room and experienced religious awakening.

I spotted Leyra near one of the larger tables.

She was stacking books.

Several already sat arranged in careful piles.

I approached.

”How many of those are for me?”

”All of them.”

I stopped.

”Princess, I thought we were building diplomatic skills, not killing me through literature.”

Leyra looked up.

”You will survive.”

”Strong assumption.”

I pulled out a chair.

”I thought your father said members of the council would help teach me.”

”He changed his mind.”

”Already?”

Leyra placed another book on the table.

”He believed the council arrangement made you uncomfortable.”

I thought back.

Observe.

Assess.

Evaluate.

Yes.

That had sounded less like education and more like being studied by committee.

Leyra continued.

”So, for now, your lessons will be private.”

I raised an eyebrow.

”Private.”

”Yes.”

”Only you and me.”

Her eyes narrowed slightly.

”That is generally what private means.”

I leaned back.

”Being alone with a beautiful, delicate princess sounds dangerous.”

Her royal expression cracked.

Just a little.

”Would you feel safer alone with a princess capable of snapping your neck before you finished that sentence?”

There she was.

I smiled.

”Much safer.”

Leyra stared.

”You are strange.”

”I’ve received professional confirmation.”

She pointed toward the chair.

”Sit.”

Soft voice again.

The princess had returned.

I obeyed.

Mostly because this promised entertainment.

Leyra stood beside me and opened the first book.

”So,” I said, ”what are we studying today, teacher?”

”Do not call me that.”

”Professor?”

”No.”

”Madam Scholar?”

”Caled.”

”Yes, teacher?”

She closed her eyes.

Then reopened them.

”Use my name.”

”Leyra?”

Her eyes sharpened.

”Princess Leyra.”

I smiled.

”Almost casual.”

She slid the book in front of me.

”This contains an overview of Inizio’s more recent history.”

The cover was thick dark leather, decorated with the royal lion crest.

I opened it.

Dense pages.

Maps.

Dates.

Names.

My eyes immediately attempted mutiny.

Leyra continued.

”You do not need to memorize every minor event. Focus on political changes, treaties, disputes, changes in leadership, and our relationships with neighboring kingdoms.”

”Finally. Useful instructions.”

”That was always the plan.”

”I was afraid you’d make me memorize the birthdays of dead nobles.”

”I considered it.”

I looked at her.

She smiled sweetly.

Was she joking?

Hard to tell.

Terrifying woman.

We began.

Leyra was good.

Actually, annoyingly good.

She did not simply read from the books.

She explained.

When one section introduced a complicated dispute between noble houses, she simplified it into motives.

Power.

Land.

Money.

Influence.

When a chapter described changes in royal authority, she explained what those changes meant in practice.

Who gained power.

Who lost it.

Why people accepted it.

Why others resisted.

Whenever the book became dense enough to qualify as masonry, Leyra translated it into normal language.

I learned quickly.

Very quickly.

The information clicked into place.

Names connected to regions.

Historical events connected to current customs.

Court behavior began making more sense once I understood where several traditions came from.

Even the placement of different nobles within formal ceremonies had political meaning.

”That is ridiculous,” I said.

Leyra looked at me.

”What?”

”Where someone stands during dinner can insult another family.”

”Yes.”

”Your politics has assigned military significance to chairs.”

”Seating arrangements matter.”

”Somebody needs hobbies.”

She ignored me.

After another section, I leaned back.

”Question.”

”Ask.”

”What kingdom am I actually supposed to negotiate with?”

Leyra paused.

Then closed one of the books.

”Agran.”

The name was new.

”Kingdom of Agran?”

”Yes.”

”Far?”

”Not especially.”

She moved a map toward me and indicated one of the territories neighboring Inizio.

”Agran is one of the strongest kingdoms in this region.”

I studied the map.

”Comparable to Inizio?”

”Very.”

That explained the war concern.

Nobody worried this much about fighting someone dramatically weaker.

Leyra tapped the marked territory.

”Like Inizio, Agran is predominantly Beastkin.”

”Who rules them?”

”A queen.”

I looked up.

Leyra continued.

”Queen Firsa Stormroar.”

”Stormroar.”

”Yes.”

Leyra nodded.

”Her royal line is Tigerkin.”

I leaned back.

”A powerful neighboring kingdom governed by a Tigerkin queen.”

”Correct.”

A smile slowly appeared.

Leyra immediately recognized it.

”No.”

”I haven’t said anything.”

”Your face did.”

”I was thinking.”

”That is what concerns me.”

I placed one hand over my heart.

”I’m optimistic.”

”About what?”

”Negotiations.”

”You know almost nothing about Queen Firsa.”

”I know she’s a woman.”

Leyra stared at me.

I continued.

”I have a respectable history of successful communication with women.”

She sighed.

”You really believe your charm can solve anything.”

”Not anything.”

I gestured between us.

”But it got me from sleeping in a Wolfkin village to sitting alone in the royal library with the crown princess.”

Leyra raised an eyebrow.

”You believe your talking caused that?”

”Can you prove it didn’t?”

”My father assigned me to teach you.”

”After I talked to him.”

”That is not evidence.”

”It would hold up in a very irresponsible court.”

She pinched the bridge of her nose.

I smiled.

This was enjoyable.

The lesson continued.

Hours passed faster than expected.

Leyra explained Inizio’s governmental structure.

How royal authority interacted with noble families.

The responsibilities of different councils.

How regional officials communicated with the capital.

Which traditions mattered during formal diplomatic meetings.

What behavior would be interpreted as respectful.

What would be considered weakness.

What would be considered arrogance.

Political manners were apparently a battlefield where everyone fought using smiles, titles, seating positions, gift choices, and carefully timed pauses.

Honestly?

I understood why some kings preferred swords.

At least swords were straightforward.

Still, Leyra made everything easy to absorb.

She had a talent for identifying the important part of any subject.

If a page contained ten paragraphs, she could reduce it to three sentences without losing what mattered.

I closed one of the books.

”You know, you’re surprisingly good at this.”

Leyra looked offended.

”Surprisingly?”

”Considering my first impression of you involved you trying to punch people into retirement.”

Her expression sharpened.

”Keep your voice down.”

The library was mostly empty, but several attendants worked at distant shelves.

I lowered mine.

”Fine.”

Then smiled.

”For someone who enjoys breaking challengers, you’re an excellent teacher.”

Leyra glanced away.

”I had an excellent teacher.”

That caught my attention.

”Who?”

She hesitated for only a moment.

”The Great Sage.”

I blinked.

”Zeria taught you?”

”Yes.”

Interesting.

Leyra adjusted one of the books.

”She taught me history, politics, mathematics, diplomacy, philosophy, several languages, and more subjects than I can remember.”

I leaned back.

”She’s younger than you.”

”By one year.”

”And she taught the crown princess.”

Leyra nodded.

”Age and intelligence are not the same thing.”

”Fair.”

She looked toward the shelves.

”Zeria has always been extraordinary.”

There was no jealousy in her voice.

Only respect.

”Even when we were younger, adults would bring her problems they could not solve.”

I pictured cheerful barefoot Zeria sneaking through a tunnel because she wanted fried monster meat.

Then pictured her calmly explaining why revealing my existence could destabilize kingdoms.

Yes.

That checked out.

Leyra continued.

”She understands things quickly. People. Systems. Magic. History. Politics.”

Her expression softened.

”She is the wisest person in this kingdom.”

Then she added, ”Despite her personality.”

I laughed.

”That last part sounded personal.”

”You have met her.”

”Fair.”

Leyra gave me a look.

”She is brilliant.”

”I know.”

”And unpredictable.”

”Also know.”

”She disappears.”

”Interesting.”

”She forgets official schedules.”

”Tragic.”

”She climbs out windows.”

I paused.

”That one is new.”

Leyra sighed.

”But when something matters, truly matters, there is nobody I trust more.”

I smiled faintly.

That sounded like Zeria.

Then a thought occurred.

”If she’s that good, why isn’t she teaching me?”

Leyra froze.

Wrong question.

Her head turned slowly.

Blue eyes narrowed.

I recognized that look.

That was not Princess Leyra.

That was the Merciless Lioness deciding whether my skull could withstand educational correction.

Her fingers tightened around the book she was holding.

I glanced at it.

Heavy.

Hard cover.

Potential weapon.

”Let me rephrase.”

”No.”

”Too late?”

”Much.”

She stepped closer.

”The Great Sage has responsibilities far beyond tutoring you.”

Soft voice.

Very dangerous content.

”Matters of state. Magical research. Royal counsel. National security. Her time is extremely valuable.”

”I didn’t mean”

”This task is far beneath what should require her direct attention.”

The book moved slightly in her hand.

I watched it.

”Leyra.”

”Princess Leyra.”

”Princess Leyra, please don’t beat me to death with recent history.”

Her eyes narrowed.

Then, finally, the tension eased.

Good.

Literacy had nearly killed me.

I raised both hands.

”For the record, having the crown princess personally teaching me is already an outrageous privilege.”

Leyra’s eyebrows lifted.

”Is that so?”

”Absolutely.”

”Interesting change in tone.”

”I recently became aware of the weapon in your hand.”

She glanced at the book.

Then placed it gently on the table.

”Better?”

”Much.”

A small smile appeared.

I continued.

”Seriously. Most people in this kingdom would probably fight for a chance to sit where I’m sitting.”

”Some would.”

”And I don’t even have to fight.”

Leyra gave me a meaningful stare.

”Not yet.”

I smiled.

”There she is.”

Her smile grew slightly.

Not the princess smile.

The other one.

Confident.

Almost challenging.

”Believe me, Caled.”

She leaned one hand against the table.

”You haven’t seen anything yet.”

That sentence carried several possible meanings.

All of them interesting.

I rested my chin against my hand.

”Then I’d love to see more of you, Princess Leyra.”

Her smile disappeared.

Color touched her cheeks.

Tiny.

Barely visible.

She straightened.

Then cleared her throat.

”Anyway.”

Beautiful escape attempt.

She retrieved another book.

”We have spent enough time on history for today.”

”Already?”

”You learned quickly.”

”Natural talent.”

”Do not become proud.”

”Too late.”

She ignored that.

”Your next major weakness is etiquette.”

I placed a hand against my chest.

”Weakness?”

”Severe weakness.”

”Harsh.”

Leyra began arranging several smaller books.

”How you speak in private is your concern. How you behave while representing Inizio is mine.”

”Possessive.”

”Professional.”

”Less exciting.”

She continued as though I had said nothing.

”You cannot enter another royal court behaving exactly as you do here.”

”Why not?”

”Because I would prefer not to begin a war before negotiations officially start.”

”I thought the goal was preventing one.”

”Exactly.”

”So I’m already helping.”

Leyra stared at me.

I smiled.

She exhaled.

”We need to work on introductions, forms of address, formal greetings, dining etiquette, diplomatic language, court posture, gift protocol, and how to recognize when someone is insulting you politely.”

I leaned back.

”That last one sounds useful.”

”It will be.”

”How often do nobles insult each other politely?”

”Constantly.”

”I might enjoy politics.”

”You will not.”

”Challenge accepted.”

Leyra placed one final book before me.

Then looked directly into my eyes.

”For this part, you will need to listen carefully.”

I smiled.

”If you’re the one teaching me, I’d love it.”