All in Charisma (A LitRPG/Isekai Adventure)

Justin raced toward Belmora, swapping his Elemental Affinity from Vorthak's Flame to Elea's Whisper. He reached out mentally for Myrelle.

So far, the Corrin noble didn't know about this telepathic ability, but she needed to hear the latest developments.

Myrelle? It's Justin. I'm reaching out to you with an ability I have. Can you hear me?

There was a brief pause before her mental voice responded, colored with surprise. Justin? What is it? How did things go with Tennyson? Can you hear this?

Yes, I hear you. Here's what happened...

Justin gave her an update: Tennyson's confession about showing the crystal to his father, the empty pedestal in Lord Tennyson's study, and the nobleman's location at a Privy Council meeting in the palace.

So how do I gain access to the palace? Justin finished.

No worries about that. I can get you in.

Justin knew there was no chance of stopping her. But more importantly, she could prove useful. And as calculating as it sounded, her family name would act as a shield if the worst happened. The Corrins carried weight at court. As long as he was with her, he had a reason to be there.

All right, Justin agreed. Meet at the North Gate?

Sounds good.

He broke the connection, then was struck by another thought. Theric Wren was another loose end. The Cult of Morvath already knew his location, while Justin didn't. Perhaps Elea's Whisper could help him find the old adventurer, or at least warn him of the danger.

It was something to address once the immediate crisis was averted.

Within twenty minutes, Justin found Myrelle waiting astride Comet at the North Gate. They fell into formation, urging their mounts toward the palace district. Justin realized he had time for a quick detour near Summon & Supply to request backup if needed. The extra ten minutes seemed prudent—it wasn't quite mid-morning yet, so the window remained open.

"So what was that skill?" Myrelle asked as they rode. "It's unlike anything I've encountered."

"It allows me to communicate with anyone I've met within roughly a mile," Justin explained. "Speaking of which, I need to get close enough to headquarters. My allies need to know about this change of plans."

"Your allies?" Myrelle's tone carried curiosity. "You mean your employees?"

Justin was quiet for a moment. His word choice of "allies" was almost enough to reveal the truth, enough for Myrelle to realize—especially with her Socialite instincts—that there was more to this situation than met the eye.

He considered deferring this conversation, but she deserved to know more.

"Not just employees," Justin admitted. "There's a larger mission I've been involved in from the beginning."

"You mean your Templar contact," Myrelle said, her face neutral.

Justin spared her a glance, reading her expression with his Insightful Gaze. He saw a mixture of emotions on her face: worry, a desire to help, and even a hint of hurt.

"I left things out," Justin continued, "to protect you and your family's reputation. But now you're involved as deeply as I am."

She nodded slowly. "I understand. I suspected there was something more. I could never identify exactly why I felt this way, but with my abilities, you develop instincts for such things, even without concrete reasons."

"It wasn't about excluding you, Myrelle. It was about trying to..."

"You don't need to explain," she interrupted gently. "I understand the reasoning. It's just that my emotions haven't quite caught up yet. The two are out of sync, if that makes sense."

Justin nodded, somewhat surprised by her response. He had underestimated Myrelle's capacity for understanding. "Let's focus on what needs to be done."

They rode in silence as they navigated Belmora's streets, passing the imposing Golden Aurelian Tower. Justin allowed several more blocks to pass before reaching out for Alistair.

Thankfully, the connection established quickly.

Justin, how did the retrieval go?

Justin provided a rapid update, concluding with his need for backup.

I don't know how this will unfold, but if I send word, I need you and the others for backup.

We should avoid direct confrontation if possible, Alistair cautioned. Though if they're cornered, they may grow desperate. Secure that crystal, Justin. However you must.

Myrelle and I are heading there now. She doesn't know everything, but enough to understand that something larger is at play. She can be trusted.

Even so, Alistair advised, use your Agreement ability to ensure her silence.

I wanted to keep that in reserve for other targets... I would hate to be without it when I need it most. Perhaps tomorrow, when things calm down.

I'll trust your judgment on that. Lila, Eldrin, and I will remain ready to move. As a Paladin, I should have access through the palace chapel. We'll be stationed there if you need us.

Understood.

Arion guide your steps, Justin. And may the Creator's light shine upon you. Good luck.

Justin nodded to Myrelle as they approached the palace district. "We're set. Let's retrieve that crystal."

They navigated through the outer walls using Myrelle's name and title. Once beyond the gates, the Royal Palace rose before them—a sprawling complex of white stone and towers. Two main wings extended from the central structure, most rising four stories high. Banners bearing the Rooster Rampant snapped in the morning breeze above the battlements.

Justin and Myrelle dismounted and dismissed their steeds back into their summoning rings before approaching the palace on foot. Before the main entrance stood a squad of royal guardsmen. These weren't ordinary city guards; their armor bore the royal crest, and they had the bearing of elite soldiers.

"They're swarming today," Myrelle observed, watching one of the guards interrogate a well-dressed Merchant attempting to enter.

"This isn't usual?" Justin asked, keeping his voice low.

"Not usual at all. There's always security, but nothing like this level of scrutiny."

The observation gave Justin pause, but his path was set. There was no turning back now. "Is there another way in?"

"There are multiple entrances, but the east entrance would be prudent. Typically, there's less security there."

"Lead the way."

Within minutes, they circled around to reach the smaller, yet still imposing, entrance to the East Wing. Justin was surprised to catch a glimpse of the Golden Gulf to the left of the main entrance; this part of the palace rose high above a cliff, overlooking the ocean below. A squad of guards stood watch here, making it clear that they couldn't pass without being inspected.

The sergeant—a stern-faced woman with a scar along her jawline—stepped forward as they approached.

"State your business," she said, her tone professional.

"Lady Myrelle Corrin," Myrelle announced, her voice carrying authority. "We have business in the East Wing."

The sergeant's expression didn't soften. "The palace is under heightened security this morning, my lady. All visitors must provide specific authorization or scheduled appointments."

Myrelle's eyebrows rose with surprise. "Heightened security? May I ask the reason?"

"I'm not at liberty to discuss that, my lady. Your authorization?"

Myrelle adjusted her approach. "I have an urgent meeting with Lord Chancellor Alandis regarding Corrin trade contracts. The Chancellor specifically requested my presence this morning to review amendments before the afternoon session."

It was a masterful fabrication, by Justin's estimation—specific enough to sound legitimate, important enough to justify urgency, and invoking a name with enough authority to give even palace guards pause.

The sergeant exchanged glances with another guard, clearly weighing the risks of denying entry to a Corrin against the strictness of their orders.

"And your companion?" she asked, gesturing toward Justin with suspicion.

"My business associate, Mr. Talemaker," Myrelle replied, not missing a beat. "He has expertise about the maritime shipping clauses in question."

Another tense pause. The sergeant studied them both carefully, her hand resting near her sword hilt in a gesture that wasn't quite threatening but made her readiness clear.

"Wait here," she finally said, turning to confer quietly with a subordinate.

Justin maintained his neutral expression. The heightened security couldn't be a coincidence—not on the same morning that a blood crystal had been brought into the palace. Either the Cult had already detected the crystal's presence, or something else entirely was unfolding within these walls.

After what felt like an eternity but was likely less than two minutes, the sergeant returned with her decision.

"You may proceed to the East Wing, Lady Corrin. However, both you and your associate must surrender any weapons and submit to an inspection."

The narrative has been stolen; if detected on Amazon, report the infringement.

Myrelle inclined her head. "We understand the need for precautions, Sergeant. However, those of noble blood are traditionally permitted one weapon for ornamental purposes." She indicated her Sunsting Cane.

"This is true, my lady. But what about him?" The sergeant's gaze fixed on Justin with renewed scrutiny. "This Mr. Talemaker? I haven't seen him around before."

Justin straightened, meeting her eyes. "I am of noble blood as well, Sergeant. Not of the Corrins' standing, but I attended the recent Spring Masquerade and danced with Queen Eleanor herself."

The sergeant's eyes widened at this revelation—dancing with the Queen was no small accomplishment and suggested court acceptance. It was also a dangerous thing to lie about.

"I see. Very well, you may proceed."

As they passed through the threshold into the palace, Myrelle leaned closer to Justin, her voice a whisper. "That was strange. They normally admit me without question."

"The heightened security," Justin murmured back. "It can't be for any other reason."

Myrelle led them deeper into the East Wing's interior. Despite the surroundings—gilded frames, artwork, and marble statuary—Justin stayed focused on their mission. Every moment they delayed increased the risk that Lord Tennyson would show the crystal to the wrong person. Or perhaps he already had.

They climbed a grand staircase adorned with a burgundy runner to the third floor, then turned left. The foot traffic here proved heavier, with nobles in court attire, administrators clutching document cases, and palace staff moving with purpose between various chambers.

"Almost there," Myrelle said quietly, her composure perfect despite the tension. "If you need to ask any questions, use your skill."

Justin nodded.

As they approached the salon, the murmur of conversation grew louder. The cadence of court discourse was something Justin was growing increasingly familiar with: flattery, gossip, and political maneuvering disguised as pleasantries.

Hopefully, they had arrived in time.

Justin and Myrelle paused just outside the entrance.

"Ready?" Myrelle asked quietly.

Justin nodded, straightening his greatcoat and adjusting his demeanor to match the room's energy. "Let's blend in and locate Lord Tennyson."

The salon proved more crowded than Justin anticipated. At least thirty nobles filled the space, their conversations creating a constant hum of voices that provided cover for their presence. He and Myrelle separated slightly to avoid appearing too obviously paired, though they remained within sight of each other.

Justin accepted a glass of wine from a passing servant—more for appearance than consumption—and began a circuit of the room. His eyes swept the gathered nobility, cataloging faces.

He spotted Duke Blackwood almost immediately. The Duke stood near the far windows overlooking the ocean, engaged in conversation with two other nobles. Even from across the room, Blackwood commanded attention. He was the same tall, distinguished man from the masquerade with salt-and-pepper hair. He hadn't yet acknowledged Justin's presence, but something in the Duke's bearing suggested he was aware of every person in the room.

Justin kept his distance while maintaining the appearance of casual interest in his surroundings. Several nobles nodded politely as he passed, probably recognizing him from the Spring Masquerade. Or at least, that was what Justin hoped.

He considered activating his monocle's scrying abilities on Blackwood. Knowing the Duke's level and capabilities could prove invaluable.

But the risk gave him pause. If Blackwood possessed platinum-tier scrying defenses, as someone of his position and power almost certainly would, the attempt would be rebuffed. Worse, he might detect the intrusion entirely.

That kind of suspicion was the last thing Justin needed when he was already operating on thin ice.

Better to assume Blackwood was dangerous and proceed accordingly than to risk exposure for information that wouldn't change his tactical approach anyway.

He continued his search for Lord Tennyson instead. Thankfully, it didn't take long to spot him.

Lord Tennyson was the spitting image of his son. He stood near a marble pillar, drink in hand, speaking with a woman who captured Justin's attention. She was striking rather than beautiful—tall and willowy, with raven-black hair styled in an updo that showcased her neck. Her gown was deep crimson silk that clung to her figure, adorned with black lace at the bodice and sleeves. Something about her was strangely familiar, but Justin couldn't imagine where he might have seen her before.

But it was her manner that distinguished her: the way she leaned in when speaking, the calculated placement of her hand on Tennyson's arm, the smile that promised secrets and pleasures.

Justin accessed his monocle's scrying abilities, judging she was much more likely to possess defenses against it. Her class tag revealed her to be a Level 20 Socialite. It was a bit higher than he expected, perhaps a Socialite who hadn't been able to advance yet for whatever reason.

He shut it off quickly.

But even without the monocle, it was clear that Lord Tennyson was captivated. He laughed at something she said, his body language open and receptive in a way that suggested complete trust.

Justin activated Elea's Whisper, reaching out for Myrelle.

The woman speaking with Lord Tennyson—who is she? I feel like I've seen her before.

There was a brief pause before Myrelle's mental voice responded, tinged with recognition and warning.

Lady Scarlet Elandara. She's... notorious at court. It's rumored that she and Blackwood are lovers.

Lady Scarlet and the Queen, Justin observed. Busy man.

Be very careful with her, Justin. She's more dangerous than she appears.

Justin studied the interaction closely. Lord Tennyson's posture had shifted—his shoulders slumped, his expression dreamy. Lady Scarlet was speaking softly, her crimson lips moving close to his ear, curled in a furtive smile.

Before Justin could move closer, a commotion near the entrance drew his attention. A distinguished man with silver hair and the bearing of decades in service had entered the salon. His eyes swept the room and stopped on Myrelle.

"Lady Corrin!" he called out, confusion in his tone. "I wasn't expecting you. Our meeting concluded yesterday, did it not?"

Myrelle turned, not missing a beat. "Lord Chancellor, yes, of course. I apologize for any confusion. I thought we might have a brief follow-up regarding the northern tariff adjustments, but perhaps I misunderstood my father's instructions." She smiled. "Since I'm here, however, I thought I might stay to socialize."

The Chancellor's expression softened. "Ah, well, you're always welcome, my dear. Please, enjoy yourself."

Crisis averted, but Justin noticed the exchange had drawn attention—including from Duke Blackwood, whose dark eyes were now fixed on both Justin and Myrelle with interest.

The Duke excused himself from his conversation and began moving through the crowd, his path aimed directly at Justin.

There was no avoiding this encounter.

"Mr. Talemaker," Blackwood said as he approached, extending his hand and holding a plain ebony cane in the other. "What a delightful surprise. I had hoped we might continue our earlier conversation from the masquerade."

Justin shook his hand, maintaining his composure. "Duke Blackwood. The pleasure is mine."

"I must confess, I'm curious about your presence here. The Privy Council sessions are typically... shall we say, of limited interest to entrepreneurial minds such as yours."

"I accompanied Lady Myrelle regarding the maritime shipping clauses in the trade contracts," Justin explained, using their prepared story. "My business has given me practical insights into cargo transportation that might prove relevant."

"Fascinating," Blackwood said, though his tone suggested he found the explanation thin. "A lot of maritime trade in the Hinterlands, eh?"

Justin matched his smile. "You might be surprised at what one learns during their travels."

"I assure you, Mr. Talemaker, very little escapes my notice. Speaking of: how is your delivery service progressing? I understand you've been making an impression in Mudside."

So he knew about that. If Blackwood was part of the conspiracy, that meant their cover was blown.

"Business is growing steadily, thank you for asking," Justin managed, maintaining his composure.

Myrelle moved to intervene, sensing Justin's discomfort, but before she could reach them, another lady approached her, and Justin caught their conversation.

"Lady Corrin, forgive the interruption, but there's a matter requiring your attention. Your father's steward has sent word about the Silverton shipment discrepancy. He requested you review the manifest before it's finalized."

"My father?" she asked. "Strange that he knows I'm here."

"It was urgent," the woman emphasized.

Silverton? If this woman were trying to separate them, she had chosen an interesting city to do the interrupting.

Myrelle's eyes flicked to Justin, frustration evident, but she couldn't refuse without appearing suspicious. "Of course. Please excuse me, gentlemen. I shall return shortly, I hope."

As she departed with the lady, Justin found himself alone with Duke Blackwood. Unlike the masquerade, Justin now had access to his monocle. He thought about turning on its level-detection capabilities but was also afraid he wouldn't like the answer, or worse, Blackwood would note it.

"She's a remarkable young woman," Blackwood observed. "The Corrins have always been astute in their business dealings." He paused, studying Justin with those calculating eyes. "You know, Mr. Talemaker, I've been wanting to know you better. You have an interesting quality about you. Something I can't quite place."

"I'm simply a businessman trying to establish myself, Your Grace."

"Hmm. Perhaps." Blackwood gestured toward a quiet alcove near the windows. "Tell me, do you play Crowns and Kingdoms? Every lord and lady with a strategic impulse seems to do so these days."

Justin only knew it to be a complex strategy board game popular among the nobility that could easily consume hours.

It was also, he realized, a convenient pretext to isolate him from the rest of the salon.

"I would, Lord Blackwood, but don't you have a council meeting to continue?"

"You're in luck; there's been a minor security issue that has cut the meeting short. I find myself with a rare window open. I should like to spend it with one of those interesting young lords in the court today."

"I'm beyond flattered," Justin said carefully. "Alas, I think you would find me poor sport. While I'm familiar with the rules, I'm far from a master."

"Well, you're in good company here. I have a friend I've been wanting to introduce you to. He has, shall we say, quite a strategic mind. He plays the game better than most I know." Before Justin could ask, Blackwood waved the obvious question away. "But later. I have a board set up in my study just down the corridor. We could have a quick game—nothing too serious, just a friendly match between acquaintances. It would give us a chance to speak more privately about potential opportunities."

Justin's mind raced. Accepting would remove him from the salon, leaving him unable to monitor Lord Tennyson and Lady Scarlet. But refusing too directly might offend Blackwood and raise suspicions. Several nobles were eyeing Justin, waiting for his reaction. Lady Myrelle was still absent.

"Your Grace, I'm honored by the invitation," Justin began, searching for a diplomatic exit. "But..."

Blackwood waited for an excuse that never came.

"Come now," Blackwood pressed. "Surely you can spare a few minutes? I insist. After all, one doesn't refuse an opportunity to better know the Queen's Chief Advisor, does one?"

Justin still fumbled for a response, and Blackwood waited patiently, seeming to relish the awkwardness.

At last, Justin chuckled, displaying embarrassment openly. "It appears you have caught me, Lord Blackwood."

"Caught you?" Blackwood asked with theatrical concern. "However do you mean?"

"You caught me..." Justin said, letting the tension build, "as the only man of noble blood who doesn't know how to play Crowns and Kingdoms. An embarrassing admission, I'm afraid, but you've cornered me."

Several nearby nobles chuckled at the explanation, while Blackwood gave an appreciative smile. "Forgive me, my lord. But ignorance is no sin. On the contrary, I would be glad to teach you a few decent opening sequences. Against less prepared opponents, they can gain you an advantage quite quickly. Now truly, it's less about the game and more about the opportunity to—"

A palace guard appeared at the edge of Justin's peripheral vision, making subtle but increasingly urgent gestures to catch the Duke's attention without causing a scene.

Blackwood's gaze flicked toward the guard, and for just a moment—so brief that Justin almost missed it with his Insightful Gaze—irritation flashed across the Duke's features before his practiced smile reasserted itself.

"One moment, Mr. Talemaker," Blackwood said smoothly, holding up a hand. He turned slightly toward the guard but didn't move from his position. "I'm in the middle of a conversation. Unless this is a matter of immediate urgency?"

The guard shifted uncomfortably, clearly torn between protocol and whatever message he carried. "Your Grace, I... it can wait a few—"

"Then it can wait," Blackwood said with finality, turning his attention back to Justin. "Now, where were we? Ah yes, I was saying—"

"Your Grace," the guard interrupted, his voice dropping to barely above a whisper but carrying an edge of desperation. "It's about Her Majesty. She's beginning to..."

Blackwood's expression transformed in an instant. The pleasant mask vanished, replaced by something cold and dangerous. He turned on the guard with surprising intensity.

"Then why in Arion's name didn't you lead with that?" he demanded, his voice low but sharp enough to cut. Several nearby nobles turned to look, sensing the sudden shift in atmosphere. "If it concerns the Queen, you interrupt immediately. Do you understand?"

"Yes, Your Grace. My apologies, I thought—"

"You thought wrong." Blackwood's tone could have frozen water. Then, just as quickly, he reasserted control, his diplomatic mask sliding back into place as he turned to Justin. "My sincerest apologies, Mr. Talemaker. Duty calls, I'm afraid, and somewhat more urgently than anticipated."

The transition was masterful but not quite perfect—Justin caught the slight tension in Blackwood's jaw, the way his fingers tightened almost imperceptibly around his cane. Whatever the guard's message concerned, it had genuinely rattled him. To the core.

"We'll have to postpone our game," Blackwood continued. "Do enjoy the refreshments."

With that, the Duke moved swiftly toward the exit with the guard, traveling as fast as decorum allowed.

Justin immediately turned back toward where he'd last seen Lord Tennyson.

His stomach dropped.

Lady Scarlet was moving toward one of the salon's side exits, her crimson gown flowing behind her. As she walked, Justin caught a glimpse of her slipping something—a small object that caught the light—into the elegant purse hanging from her wrist.

And Lord Tennyson stood near the marble pillar, with a dazed expression on his face. His eyes were unfocused, and he swayed almost imperceptibly, as if he'd had far too much wine despite the early hour.

The blood crystal. She had to have it.

Justin didn't hesitate. He set his wine glass on a nearby table and began moving through the crowd.

He had to intercept her before she did anything with that crystal.