Page 149 of The Dark Lord’s Guide to Honeymooning (and Other Acts of Tyranny)

“Sir?” A young woman approached, clutching a worn shawl. “Is it true? You’re paying for heroic bloodline verification?”

I kept my hood low and put on my most trustworthy smile. Which, admittedly, wasn’t very trustworthy. “Indeed. The political situation has made such bloodlines valuable. I’m offering protected employment to those who qualify.”

“Employment?” An older man pushed forward. “What kind of employment?”

“Protected positions within my organization.” It wasn’t technically a lie. They would be protected. From everything. Including freedom of movement. “The testing is simple and painless.”

More people gathered. Word spread quickly in a small city like Kheldvar. Within an hour, we had a crowd of nearly one hundred fifty hopefuls, all eager to discover if they had magical heritage worth monetizing.

Of course, that’s when the city watch decided to investigate.

“What’s all this, then?” A guard captain pushed through the crowd, flanked by six men. “No one cleared this gathering with—” He squinted at us suspiciously. “Let’s see some identification.”

“Of course,” I said smoothly, keeping my face carefully angled away. “My associate has our permits.”

Thorne, bless him, actually started patting his pockets as if searching for documents we definitely didn’t have.

“Actually,” I said, “I just remembered. We don’t have any.”

Both guards stepped closer, hands moving to their swords. The captain’s eyes narrowed. “Then you’ll need to come with—”

“Just a moment, sir!” One of the guards—a thin, nervous-looking fellow—pulled out a thick leather-bound tome from his belt pouch.

He frantically flipped through pages. “There must be regulations for this. Unlicensed merchants—no, that’s a fine. Operating without permits… ah! Here we go—‘Procedures for Undocumented Individuals Conducting Public Business.’ Let’s see… subsection twelve, paragraph four…” He looked up triumphantly. “You’re entitled to a three-day grace period to obtain proper documentation!”

“A grace period,” I repeated flatly.

“Yes! You just need to fill out form 23-A for temporary merchant status.” He was still reading. “In triplicate. During normal business hours. Which are… oh dear, the office closed an hour ago.”

The guard captain groaned. “Jenkins, they’re clearly suspicious—”

“But sir, regulations clearly state—”

I unleashed a wave of shadow spears. The guards dropped like wheat before a scythe, Jenkins still clutching his book of regulations as he fell. The crowd screamed, some fleeing, others frozen in shock.

“NOBODY MOVE!” I amplified my voice with magic, adding just enough dominion power to make compliance seem like an excellent idea. “I am here to offer legitimate employment opportunities. The guards were simply overcome with enthusiasm.”

“They’re dead!” someone shrieked.

“Yes, well, they were very enthusiastic.” I gestured, and the bodies dissolved like the others. “Now then, shall we proceed with the testing? I assure you, it’s perfectly safe for those who qualify.”

Amazingly, about two-thirds of the crowd stayed. People would overlook anything—even fresh corpses—if you convinced them they were chosen.

“What’s the test?” someone called out.

I produced a vial of what looked like ordinary water but was actually a diluted solution infused with my own blood. Arabella’s heroic bloodline had reacted violently to my essence during our early experiments. Diluted enough, it would only cause a mild warming sensation in those with the bloodline.

“A single drop on your wrist,” I announced. “If you have heroic heritage, you’ll feel warmth spreading up your arm.”

They lined up with varying degrees of reluctance. Most felt nothing—disappointed civilians who shuffled away muttering about charlatans. But every seventh or eighth person gasped as the solution reacted to their blood.

“Congratulations,” I told each successful candidate. “Please stand to the side. We’ll discuss terms once everyone’s been tested.”

Thorne kept a careful count. By the time the crowd thinned, we had fifteen confirmed bloodlines of varying potency. Not all were on Vex’s list—Sebastian’s theory about distant lineages had been more accurate than expected.

“Now then,” I addressed our gathered heroes, noting how they preened. “If you’ll all gather close, we can discuss your new positions.”

They crowded in, eager and unsuspecting.