Inheritor Of Magic: The Magi King

Chapter  991 Candidates

Wolfe looked around the room. "And why am I being railroaded into picking two more Pentacles again? I get the part where there is historic precedent, but I'm failing to see the rush."

In response, King Petros laughed, while the Fae all gave him looks like he might be more dense than they thought.

It was one of the Faeries that answered first, naturally.

"You are the closest thing that our world has to a King right now, and you're the best King Candidate among the Rank Eight residents of the world, even if we count the Representatives. They're all old and their potential is played out, but you're not even a hundred yet, and you're still growing quickly. Face it, you're going to be the next King. That means you need advisors, and we already went over how it's a great idea to have advisors and heirs.

Wait, is that the problem? I know a spell that can help with that, you know. I mean, you could just be overexerting yourself because of all these cute witches, but if that's not the problem, then magic will totally fix it." The little Fae ranted, getting off track at the end.

"No, there is nothing wrong with my equipment. I have been deliberately putting off the children with a trick I learned.

But if it's all about becoming the next King, I think we've still got time." Wolfe replied.

Now the Fae were really looking at him like he was an idiot.

"You know, normally there is at least a fifty-year grace period, where it is determined if a Rank Eight advancement has the potential to make it to King Rank. The way you are growing, we might not even have fifty months. Stars, we might not even have fifty days if you keep it up.

And then we've got to find the perfect five Fae for the tasks, and somewhere in there the Pentacles will all advance to Saint Rank, and we obviously need to have them all in place before that happens, and the Witches feel like they're getting close, and then there are the dresses, and the cakes, there has to be cakes, and, and..." n/o/vel/b//in dot c//om

Wolfe reached up and gently grabbed the Faerie to stroke her back with one finger and calm her down.

"Relax, breathe. There is still enough time." He assured her.

"You keep saying that, but it seems like just yesterday my firstborn dusted for the first time, and now look at him." The Faerie responded with a gesture toward one of the Faerie men in the room.

Faeries lived long lives, as far as Wolfe knew, but they also grew up at an accelerated pace, being full-grown in under three years if they were properly fed.

"You have a point. The other Pentacle formations were much less formal, and we arranged them without a lot of pageantry. But if the Fae and whoever King Petros is sending want a big party, then we should definitely arrange something, and that will take some time, even if we use magic to make all the outfits." Wolfe agreed, calming the excited tiny creature.

Then he turned to Petros. "Did you already have five in mind when you sent the message?"

"What sort of disorganized hippie do you take me for? We can't all live in a magical garden and just sleep beside whoever happens to end up in our bed." King Petros joked.

Ella smirked at him. "But you have thought about it."

The Fae burst into giggles, while King Petros did his best to keep a dignified expression.

The Faerie flew in front of his face to get his attention. "There is no point in denying it. We have all thought about it. I mean, just the other day, he woke up between a succubus and a dryad. Can you imagine how good that smelled? Sure, she's half Demon, but she smells just like leaves after rain."

Petros laughed at the hyper Fae. "I don't actually know what a succubus is supposed to smell like. I can only imagine that they smell like sex, the way that they are described. While sex in the forest after rain might be fun, I wouldn't put it at the top of my list of favourite smells."

"You have a list of favourite smells? Oh, share, share."

Wolfe cut her off. "It's a metaphor. There might not be a physical list. But a succubus normally smells like baby powder and flowers, with a hint of fresh coffee and frying bacon."

Now it was the Demons' turn to laugh, and the guards at the door chuckled. "Well, we know what Wolfe likes now." Risa joked.

"A succubus smells like whatever you like the most. It's a magical pheromones' thing. So, to Wolfe's morning mind, she smells like soft girly things and breakfast. In the afternoon, she would likely smell differently." The bodyguard explained.

"Oh, I know. Why don't you two spend an evening with some of our local succubi, and you can compare notes." The Faerie suggested, then paused, hovering motionless in the air using magic, with one hand raised to forestall any questions.

"Scratch that. Forget I said anything." She amended.

"That's a new one. I've never seen a Faerie say something that actually made their own brain freeze before. It was like she had to do a factory reset on her train of thought so that she could even continue flying again." Cassie laughed.

"I just realized that letting Wolfe influence other world leaders to take a liking to the Succubi might not be the best idea." The Fae protested.

"That's putting it mildly. Can you imagine how that would go over with his people, who have been at war with the Demon Realms for thousands of years?" Wolfe joked.

The Faerie shrugged. "Who would be better as a peace emissary. And possibly worse. You know what, getting a succubus involved in anything just makes it more confusing."

That logic was hard to argue with.

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