From Corpse to Crown: Reborn as a Mortician in Another World-Chapter 15: Quiet Before the Storm

The palace looked different after his first exorcism. As Lucian stepped out of the carriage, he took in the looming spires and obsidian windows. If he weren't surrounded by the undead, it would be a beautiful sight. He especially liked how the stained glass windows reflected the light like still water.

If only my friends could see where I've landed...Lucian sighed as he walked toward the castle gate. He never imagined he would be homesick after only a few days.

This time the guards didn't bow. Instead, they stepped aside for him. "Word spreads fast between the undead," Lucian commented, and Rosa agreed. "Yes. Deeds are remembered more than faces."

She walked ahead, apron crisp as ever, her shoes clicking against the polished marble tiles of the castle floor. "Come on, and try not to look like you forgot your cane," she muttered.

Lucian smiled, smoothed down his coat, and checked on his Grimoire. "It's good to be back, isn't it?" The magic book's clasps simply stared at him before blinking, one after the other, like a frog.

He laughed. "You're the most entertaining book I've ever had."

+

Inside the throne room, Queen Marguerite sat atop her skeletal throne, a thin layer of frost covering it. One of her legs were crossed and her ceremonial dagger was by her side. A ghostly smile was on the visible half of her face.

"You returned," she said, voice soft and measured, like wind over a grave. "How did you fare with the grief work?"

Lucian bowed. "Sweetwater is stable. The farmhouse is in good hands, and is occupied."

The Queen studied him, her left eye sharp beneath her crown of ice and bone. "Lira's loyalty is well-known around Atraeum. That she remains even after the rite...it speaks volumes of your conduct. Very well done."

Lucian blinked. Praise from the Queen? It felt too good to be true.

As she finished the word "done," a pair of eyes and a sharp Cheshire grin appeared from the far wall. The moment he was given to bask at her praise was far too short.

Lucian watched as the smiling shadow melted into the floor and stood next to the Queen. "Indeed, dear mortician...very well done." It sounded like someone trying human speech for the first time.

The words were there, but the warmth was missing.

The figure's shape flickered, like it wasn't sure how to present itself. It stretched its limbs—first a little too long, then a little too short. For the third time that day, Lucian wished he hadn't left his cane behind.

Now I'm counting on sheer willpower and Lucy's pendant to keep me upright. Something ancient and cold flooded his gut with absolute fear. Lucian's instincts were reduced to wailing that thing is just wrong, dangerous, unnatural.

Luckily, the only thing stronger than his fear was his anxiety. He would rather die than roll over and embarrass himself in front of the Queen and this powerful creature.

Lucian straightened his spine—using most of the strength he'd gathered during the carriage ride—and focused on looking at the wall above the shadow-thing's left shoulder. Lucian bowed with practiced grace, unable to trust his voice yet.

"Ah yes, I believe you haven't met," the Queen said softly, her bony hand extending with a kind of reverent mockery. "Lucian Bowcott, meet my Spymaster. A being even older than my coronation, centuries ago."

The Spymaster stood too straight and each head tilt and blink lasted a touch too long. He—Lucian's mind reconciled that was what it was presenting as—had his hands folded before him, and the sleeves of his long black coat dusted the marble floor.

"Sweetwater has been quiet. A credit to your work."

"Thank you. I did what I could."

Blessedly, the Queen's voice broke through before the Spymaster could reply. "You went above and beyond, Lucian. We are pleased. You cleansed the corruption and preserved Lira's soul in tandem."

Lucian blinked. "That's it? No tests? No trials?"

The Queen shook her head. "Consider Sweetwater your trial. You received an opportunity to use a forbidden skill and you took it. I daresay you earned a day off."

The Spymaster's amber eyes caught the candlelight. "It must be frustrating..." He dramatically held his arm out toward Lucian's pocket. "To have such power at your fingertips...and be...restrained..." a long, forked tongue flicked the air, as if the Spymaster were tasting the word. "...restrained from reaching your true potential."

As he said the word 'potential,' it appeared before him with a purple glow, swirling in eldritch script. The Spymaster flicked his hand and slashed it in half. The word cracked like glass, then vanished.

That made the Grimoire in Lucian's coat rustle violently. Its eyes popped open, shining with warning light as it tried to scan and catalog the Spymaster.

[ACCESSING FILE...ERROR]

[UNAUTHORIZED ENTRY—LOCKED PROFILE]

He could see it clearly in his mind's eye. The book's glyphs glitched, and it gasped before it slammed shut. The Queen tilted her head toward the noise, as if she could see his book. "Sometimes...a mortician's Grimoire stutters so loudly, even I can sense it."

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The Spymaster smiled viciously. "It's not polite to pry during the first meeting." Queen Marguerite nodded. "Not to worry, dear Mortician. In time, you will master the peculiarities about your book."

Lucian's jaw tightened. "I was in a stressful situation. I did what I could...but I am determined to get stronger."

"Mm...yes, but barely," the demon mused. "I can't argue with results. The Grimoire was watching...as was I."

The Queen raised a hand and ended the conversation. "The city is yours to wander, Mortician. As long as you return by dusk."

Lucian's brow lifted and he looked at the Queen and the Spymaster. His body wanted to sink into his own bed and fall asleep, dead to the world until the morning. But his mind was far more curious about the city.

"You're...letting me sightsee?"

The Queen's veil shifted and he saw a pale blue light in her other eye, calmer this time. "I am allowing you to breathe," she replied, voice gentle even if a little hollow. "Before it is taken by Candlemere."

Beside him, Rosa grimaced. "Already, my Queen?"

"Preparation is a luxury. He's shown he can work without it," the Spymaster said, slick as an oil spill. "Enjoy the city, Lucian Bowcott. While it still smiles." Before he could reply, the Spymaster drifted back into shadow, and the Queen waved them away.

"Yes, your Majesty," Rosa and Lucian said together.

+

Rosa let him retrieve his walking cane before they visited Nox Levitica, the city capital. The minute Lucian entered the room, it flew through the air and into his outstretched hand. As he grasped the silver handle, it was like rediscovering a phantom limb.

The cane hummed faintly and resonated with the Grimoire's quiet approval. Lucian thought he heard a slight click, the same kind as a key slid into a lock. He twirled it once and found the weight balanced him in ways he hadn't realized.

Rosa watched from the doorway with a nod, then gestured toward the balcony doors.

"Are you ready to find out what the city thinks of you, Lucian?"