Chapter 1310 (2/2)

Mrs. Hamilton walked briskly forward, nodding calmly at some of the groups that gave her curious looks. Aside from just the Orders, the politicians from Zone 1 were a large percentage of the crowd of meandering people as they examined Kharon during their slow trek toward the event. Unfortunately, they imitated the representative from the Order Fide, in principle if not in obnoxious practice.

As she continued forward, their whispered conversations and almost snide assurances in the dimming light of dusk all seemed so… silly to Mrs. Hamilton. They played tiny games while walking toward the table of the most powerful man on Earth. Did they think that any of this would have much meaning after the evening began in earnest?

Too much had happened recently. The Earth’s weaknesses had been exposed at the football game, but most of the Zones seemed to think that the weakness was only Zone 1’s. Which Mrs. Hamilton expected to be the exact opposite of what Randidly had gleaned from what had transpired.

But then, she knew Randidly Ghosthound. And Mrs. Hamilton knew that if Randidly was willing to put himself through the horror of entertaining all these people, he would have a plan in place to keep the event on track.

The small plans were cobwebs to him. He would blow them away without even noticing that they had built up in the small corners of the party that weren’t worth noticing.

Passing a large group that seemed to be the guard entourage of Zone 7 that was looking frantically for any of its leaders, Mrs. Hamilton finally spotted the woman she was seeking. She walked calmly up to Isabella Cortez’s side, as the other woman was watching a group of spiraling moss spirits in fascination, and cleared her throat.

“Where’s your brother?”

Isabella glanced over then shook her head. “Paolo and Kayle took him ahead. Apparently, with the number of people here, the men are worried that the food Kharon provided will run out if they are late.”

“Is it an excuse, or are they just excited to get to the spectacle of the party…?” Mrs. Hamilton wondered aloud. Isabella Cortez snorted, as though this was exactly the sort of behavior that she would have expected from her brother, Paolo, and Kayle. Despite her own martial strength, Isabella was becoming increasingly disinterested in pursuing such power further. Instead, she voraciously consumed every bit of political wisdom that she could.

Perhaps she felt that her own strength was insignificant. Randidly Ghosthound’s power was the exception that proved the rule. His strength could change an entire world, but others struggled to imitate his accomplishments. So Isabella took her Donnyton studies more seriously.

What was ironic was that Mrs. Hamilton had started leaning toward the exact opposite conclusion recently.

Mrs. Hamilton smiled lightly as they continued to walk forward down the lovely street. The buildings around them shifted from the bustling city to more commercial and industrial properties as they proceeded forward. How much does this girl truly understand about the games within games that we play here? Kayle and Paolo might be rushing forward for their own desires, but they will test the waters and prepare for our arrival. There is much we miss by arriving exactly on time…

Truly, raising a successor was extremely hard work. Mrs. Hamilton was alternatively vexed and delighted with Isabella’s performance but had to eventually conclude that she had begun to like the young woman so much that it interfered with her previous arrangements for her. Although she had intended to be bitingly merciless in training to utilize the soft forms of Donnyton’s power, she recently had been flinching from giving Isabella tasks that would likely leave emotional scars.

The sort of emotional scars that Miranda Hamilton used as reminders of the cost of making mistakes. And with those scars as her compass, the power that Randidly Ghosthound had left in Donnyton had grown to maturity even after he cut ties with them. Mrs. Hamilton did not believe it to be bragging to say that Donnyton’s continued political capital was due to her actions and foresight.

But it was a tiring business, always making sure they were on the cutting edge of the System. And a business that Mrs. Hamilton could see herself leaving soon. After all, Randidly’s lesson had been extremely clear. For what came next, they needed power.

Mrs. Hamilton was starting to believe that she might be better served by focusing her attention on the Skills that would make her individually powerful rather than continuing to prop Donnyton as a whole up.

In her secret, grey heart of hearts, perhaps she could admit to herself that she was slightly jealous that Alana had shed her responsibilities in Donnyton and run away to spend her time riding a fucking dragon.

The two women walked in silence until they began to leave the press of buildings and arrived at a broad expanse of greenery. The location that would host the party was just a hunched silhouette on the horizon as the stars began to come out, but the park itself was gorgeous. Not only were the trees and flower beds immaculately manicured, but the place was populated by small cocktail tables and large obsidian braziers that filled the place with ambient light.

Most of the partygoers appeared to have settled here, rather than proceeding into the event hall early. Yet individuals in sharp uniforms walked around the wide park with trays of food and drink, so it appeared that it was Kharon’s intention to keep here.

Mrs. Hamilton scanned the area and then turned to Isabella with a smile. Ah, so they’ve closed the door to keep us out for now. Interesting. “What do you see?”

Isabella was much more considered in her examination than Mrs. Hamilton had been. Her eyes were bright and focused. “...Warlord and his cohort are here already, discussing something with a group of ogres. Because they don’t wear any sort of uniform, difficult to tell what political power lies behind that ogre.

“Phirun is surrounded by almost twenty guards very near the building, and the table he commandeered is littered with empty champagne flutes. He came here mad. Nearby Han Yazhu looks exhausted, but the three women with him seem excited about something. Of everyone, it’s the women at that table that appear to be paying the closest attention to people coming and going between the tables.

“Some of the Orders are cautiously approaching Zone 7’s table, but likely just for polite greetings. Zone 7 still doesn’t seem willing to provide more support for Orders to move into its land. Paolo and Dozer are arguing about something, while my brother and Kayle are watching them while looking bored. There are more politicians and military people trying to look casual than I can count. Theodora Greyman and Mark Rowel are surrounded by people, but they are all people from Zone 1. Other than that, everyone is avoiding them like the plague-”

“But what group is watching the Zone 1 contingent, despite that?” Mrs. Hamilton interjected softly

Pausing in her speech, Isabella twisted her neck the smallest bit as though to check, but then stopped herself. Mrs. Hamilton’s smile widened as the young woman struggled to find what Mrs. Hamilton was talking about by relying solely on her memory.

“...I don’t recognize them. But… if I had to guess, it would be merchants. People from Kharon.” Isabella finally said.

Mrs. Hamilton nodded. “Politically, everyone will avoid them, but because of that isolation, less overt forms of support and benefit can thrive. Never think that any victory is absolute, or any defeat permanent. Also… what didn’t you see when you looked around?”

To her credit, this time Isabella answered immediately. “Randidly Ghosthound himself, or anyone from the Order Ducis. Sydney from East End or Ace from the Refuge. Lucifer from Franksburg. Alana Donal and Hank Howard. The rest of our Donnyton contingent. Helen. And also… the Nemesai.”

“Just so, but I suspect we will get some of those people soon. Listen,” Mrs. Hamilton raised her hand to the air and Isabella perked up. The wind rustled nearby trees, but when the wind died, what remained was a few quiet conversations happening nearby submerged in the deep silence of the night.

“I’m… not sure what I should be listening for,” Isabella eventually admitted.

As if on cue, the double doors to the party venue shuddered and then swung open. Mrs. Hamilton grinned. “And let the party begin.”