A Victim of Your Own Ambition

The previous night still danced in my mind as I moved across the entirety of my room. One step forward, then another.

But instead of dancing, my feet traced circles like a racehorse, spurred by anxiety. The more I thought, the more restless I was. My efforts to distract myself from yesterday only trapped me further.

It’s worrying what a woman can do to a man.

“Get a grip!” I muttered to myself. “You’re Elyon Lawrence. Ladies swoon at the sight of you, and men turn green with envy! You are in control, not a w—”

I faltered. A deadly mix of anger and bliss overwhelmed me to the point of not being able to say words I had no problem saying before. Crap.

This inconvenience was forcing our plan to take a different measure. We were prepared for this eventuality but I didn’t think it would that greatly impact me. I wasn’t sure how to broach that subject with Micaela, or even if I should say anything at all. Knowing her, it wouldn’t end well for anyone, and I preferred to stay in one piece.

The best course of action was to suppress this feeling and carry on like nothing happened. I couldn’t let all of the planning go to waste. “I will not allow that.”

Just because I had a moment of weakness, didn’t mean crossing out everything I worked for. It was to improve the lives of commoners like Gia after all.

“Gia…”

Whenever I thought of her, a fire kindled in my chest. In those flames, I caught her smile, her hair wound between my fingers, her electric dance, her body almost pressing against mine during said dance—

This was going nowhere.

I seated myself in the upholstered chair which was much softer than I remembered—it's been four years, after all—and steepled my fingers at my lips. If I could not will myself to stop having feelings for this girl or lock them away, I would simply limit the damage my foolish affections could do. Gia was already mine, so once I officially broke my engagement with Micaela, the wedding would be a matter of course. After the wedding, which I must endure for only three days, Gia's time would easily fill up with Queen-related duties instead. As long as I avoided her, I could focus on my plans. Yes, all I had to do was ignore—

"Prince Elyon!"

I shot to my feet. "G-Gia? What are you, how did you—?"

Gia blinked. "Your door was unlocked. ...Do you not want me to enter anymore?"

Right, I'd told her that she could come to me whenever she wanted because I could use more pleasant surprises. Past me was terribly charming. Also getting in the way of my new plans. "Nothing like that. I've just been catching up on matters since my departure from Elysium, so my mind has been preoccupied. Forgive me if I'm unable to spend time with you as I would have liked."

"Oh, no, no problem! You have to be so busy!" Before I could pat myself on the back for my quick thinking, Gia's expression shifted from apologetic to determined. "But we have to talk about this sooner or later, so I figured we might as well talk about it sooner."

I felt a tinge of unease. "About what?"

Gia's hands were gripped in trembling fists. I remembered how she shook in the long elevator up to Elysium, equal parts excitement and nervousness. She was always asking if it was alright for her to stay at my side, to do this or that, to be a place denied to commoners. That fear must still grip her, and yet it stopped her not at all. "Prince Elyon," she burst, "what are your plans, and why do you need me for them?"

... What? "What?"

"What are your plans? I—I know you have them. I know I'm part of them."

"What, ah, who told you such nonsense—"

"Don't pretend you don't have any, because I won't believe you." Damn. Gia bit her lower lip. "I don't ... I don't think everything we've shared is an act. I love you, and I want to trust you, but I can't unless I know what you want me for." Each word came slower, tenser, as if speech were a tunnel that she had to dig before advancing. "And it's okay even if you just want me for your plans. I ... I can still stay, maybe, even if you don't love me. But if you don't tell me your plans, I'm leaving."

Oh, Gia. Look at how foolish you are: showing your whole hand, expecting your candor to be a currency with which you can buy someone else's. Don't you know that the winner of a bluffing game is always the one who reveals last?

But this was the same girl who showed me all the strangest secrets of her quarter. She led me down winding paths I never would have considered walkable—or climbable. She handled the fifty simultaneous tasks of a crowded bakery with ease. She was even proving herself useful to Fiona von Taxiarchos, a heretofore impossible feat. Gia was intelligent. She simply played no games.

I could lie. I already formulated a dozen "plans" that she would find palatable. But that same fire she kindled in my chest burned my will. The moment she thought I'd lied, she would leave. That would ruin me...as in, my plans. I couldn't risk that. That must be why I felt so terribly that I must tell the truth, even if it was a dirty one.

I strode to her and took her hands in mine. Her fingers were rough and strong. Her blue gaze into my eyes was delicate and clear. "In Elysium, Gia, we say nothing so straightforwardly. We scheme and subpost. We train algorithms to optimize our wants above all, while telling the world that AI is objective. Everything about us is a lie except our air of superiority." Do you know that I'm the same? "I hate it. A superior lord should elevate his vassals rather than steal from them. My plan is simply to do that. I will bring the technology of Elysium to all of the kingdom. The algorithms will weigh everyone. But I cannot achieve this on my own; my weight in the algorithm is not sufficient to counter the combined weights of the nobility, even after I become king. That's where you come in, Gia Blütenzweig."

My hands gripped hers just a little tighter. She didn't even really seem to notice.

"You don't envy nobility. You don't want what we have. You are a commoner, a peasant from the lower quarter, and yet you're happy, and kind, and beautiful. Once the sad little trolls of Elysium see you, they can't help but love you. When you become their princess, your every dance will be one they wish to follow."

"So ... then I would tell everyone to help the lower quarter?"

I should say yes. "No, the algorithm is designed to maximize their happiness. It would merely find a way to make it seem like they're doing your will but not actually help anyone." I had wasted a few years playing the perfect prince to figure that one out myself. "They need to have a real connection with someone of the lower quarter, which you would no longer be as princess. So once you inevitably tire of this vicious, ugly little quarter in the clouds, I'll deport you back to your home. Rense's Laws elevate those of Elysium, but what if they willingly lower themselves to you?"

Gia would be their beacon, and I would direct Gia. The plan sounded so perfect when I came up with it. "I swear that these were all my plans for you. My only intentions are to help the kingdom. I understand if you don't want to enter a sham of a marriage, but now you see that it's only temporary. If you still want to leave, I only ask that you delay it until I've set things in motion."

"I don't want to leave."

"Please reconsider—what?"

She cocked her head. "I want to get married. Why do you look so surprised?"

Looking surprised was an amateur move, so that must be just a lucky guess. "... Well, you told me that you only wanted to marry for love. And you hated all those people who asked for your hand just because you're pretty and smell like bread, because you're not, I quote, 'a desperate tart who can't make her own butter.'"

"Hehe, did I say that? I'm so saucy."

It was considered crass to laugh at your own jokes, but Gia did it so shamelessly that a smile twitched unbidden on my own lips.

Gia grinned up at me, her expression impish. "Anyway, that's all true. But you literally said I'm so lovable that I'm going to change all of Elysium. Which I'm not so sure that I will, but I think that means that you also love me, so this marriage wouldn't be a sham at all."

"I didn't literally say..."

"Bup-bup-bup!" Gia released one of her hands to shush my lips. "Nitpicking isn't very lovable. I would know, because I'm so lovable everyone wants to follow in my footsteps." I willed myself not to flush. "I'll marry you, but on one condition."

Gia looked like a child telling a knock-knock joke. "What condition?"

"Your plans have to become our plans. I'm not going to be your sheep, even if you're the prettiest shepherd in the world. We're partners from now on, okay?"

"Partners." Not a pawn, but a partner. The concept felt so alien, but I could also kick myself for not seeing such a simple solution to those feelings I was brooding over all day.

I wrapped a hand around her waist and pulled her in, feeling her body against mine as I had so conscientiously avoided doing yesterday. "It's just as I said, isn't it? Who could possibly say no to you?"