I had managed to dissuade Levi from hosting a full ten-person inquisition in our living room, thankfully. He hadn't argued, merely conceded with a cryptic smile about finding a truly "remarkable" candidate who would be arriving shortly.

I was attempting to lose myself in the words of a neurodivergent author, finding a strange sort of solace in his descriptions of "masking." Suddenly, a violent thud reverberated through the house, making me jump. Levi had landed a heavy binder on the coffee table, its length exceeding the distance from my elbow to my wrist.

"That, my dear Raphael," Levi announced, "is 'data' on my most formidable candidate. Before their arrival, I suggest you peruse it thoroughly."

"The fuck, Levi? You scared the shit out of me!" I exclaimed, my heart still hammering against my ribs. "But instead of burying myself in this… tome, why don't you just tell me? What makes this particular candidate so 'formidable' in your esteemed opinion?"

"Ah, Raphael, where is the fun in simply being told? Let us engage in a little intellectual exercise. A riddle, if you will." He paused for dramatic effect. "The data, Raphael. She has seven brothers."

That’s it? The data is this?

Alright, brain, work with this. Let's break it down.

So, a woman with seven brothers… She's likely accustomed to a household dynamic dominated by males. That could mean she's used to… roughhousing, playful aggression, maybe even navigating more serious conflicts and displays of dominance. Ergo, she might not be easily intimidated by Levi's physical presence or veiled threats. She's probably seen it all before.

Beyond the purely physical, let's consider the psychological angle. Growing up as the sole woman amongst seven brothers could have instilled a deep-seated need to prove herself, to carve out her own space and gain recognition. That suggests a strong competitive streak, a drive to excel and not be overshadowed. She's likely had to fight for attention, for her voice to be heard. Therefore, she probably sets a high bar for her own competence and possesses a relentless inner fuel for… striving, for pushing boundaries, for never backing down from a challenge, even one as bizarre as Levi.

“Okay, I think I have some coherent idea. She wouldn’t be scared of your displays of dominance and, she would always strive to achieve greater things, because of her competitive nature.”

"Precisely," Levi purred, his eyes gleaming with satisfaction. "A spirit forged in the crucible of sibling rivalry. Such individuals often possess a… tenacity that transcends mere ambition. They are driven by something deeper."

Wow… a genuine sliver of praise. From Levi. Gods, Raphael, reel it in. No time for another embarrassing descent into daddy-issue territory, not with a binder thicker than your foot sitting right here on the table. Focus.

“Levi… I think, reading this file is wrong for me. Frankly, it looks like blackmail material. Instead adding guns to my belt, I would rather be naive in that table.”

"Interesting," Levi mused, a hint of amusement lacing his tone. "You find yourself feeling pity for a presidential candidate. A curious sentiment. What precisely do you imagine that binder holds, Raphael? Salacious compromising photographs?”

He gestured towards the thick file with a dismissive wave of his hand. "Hardly. It contains the trajectory of her life. Her education, her professional background, web of her career and the individuals she has aligned herself with. The scope of her influence, both overt and subtle. Her philanthropic endeavors, the motivations behind them, and their actual impact. Although," he conceded, his voice softening slightly, "as I have said, the choice of whether to arm yourself with this knowledge ultimately remains yours, dear Raphael."

“I understand that you give me this, knowledge, data or weapon or whatever you call it, possibly for my sake. But, it is not that I feel pity for this person, I would feel shame and guilt. But, tell me her name and her work.”

"Are we not, in a way, offering her the most rigorous vetting process imaginable? One that transcends the superficiality of public appearances and delves into the very fabric of her being?"

He paused. "Your aversion to wielding information that could be perceived as… coercive is noted. Very well. Her name is Evelyn Reed. And her current occupation? She is a highly respected judge."

A judge. Someone steeped in the principles of law, possessing a sense of justice, and likely accustomed to a certain level of societal standing and perhaps financial comfort.

"So," I asked, a wry smile playing on my lips, "what about the other two contenders? Are you planning on subjecting them to your charming hospitality as well, or will they be spared the living room interrogation?"

"The other two will also be individuals of considerable competence, rest assured," Levi replied, a hint of amusement in his voice. "However, their… evaluation will be conducted remotely. And make no mistake, Raphael," his gaze sharpened, "I will not be pulling any strings, nor will I offer any form of unfair support or guidance to Judge Reed. My aim is to observe, to discern, and to allow the most capable individual to… emerge."

"So, you genuinely intend to remain impartial, even towards a candidate who might align more closely with your… unique worldview?" I asked, a flicker of surprise in my voice.

"Precisely," Levi affirmed, his gaze unwavering. "Favoring a candidate based on personal inclination or perceived alignment would be a disservice to Ascaria. It breeds complacency, rewards mediocrity, and ultimately fosters incompetence.”

"So," I summarized, piecing together his grand design, "your fundamental 'wish' is to find someone capable enough to shoulder the immense responsibilities you currently bear alone. Now, about this dinner… How exactly do you want me to act? Any… pointers for navigating this terrain?"

Levi's lips curved into a knowing smile. "Simply be yourself, Raphael. You see, the rather… dramatic differences in our approaches to, shall we say, human interaction, actually create a fascinating juxtaposition. On a more elementary level, one might even categorize it as 'good cop, bad cop.' It encourages a certain dynamic, evokes conversation. An individual who might be instinctively wary of my… directness, my perhaps unsettling intensity, will likely find your presence a reassuring contrast, someone they might feel more inclined to open up to."

"Okay, I can do 'reassuring,'" I conceded, a touch of apprehension lacing my tone. "Just try not to unleash the full force of your… unsettling intensity before I get a chance to offer my 'good cop' vibes and prevent a complete meltdown."

Levi's lips quirked in amusement. "Fear will not be her primary emotion, I suspect. Annoyance, perhaps. And there is a distinct possibility she will perceive my directness as… embodied toxic masculinity."

"You know, for someone so analytical, you can be remarkably oblivious to how you come across, Levi.”

“Tell me then, dear. How I do come across?”

"Honestly? Sometimes like you're waiting for everyone else to catch up to the brilliant conclusion you already reached three steps ago."

"Hm…" Levi tilted his head slightly, a flicker of genuine curiosity in his intense gaze. "So, you interpret my… efficiency of thought as a form of intimidation? A rather personal interpretation, wouldn't you agree? But let us consider this from a less… emotionally charged perspective, shall we? Reflect for a moment, Raphael. In your relatively short span of existence, how many individuals have you truly encountered who operate with this level of consistent analytical precision? This unwavering commitment to observation? This relentless pursuit of logical clarity? I suspect the tally is rather low, perhaps even fewer than ten. Now, instead of focusing on your subjective feeling of being left behind, consider what that rarity truly signifies. Understand its implications, Raphael, within the context of your own limited, albeit valid, human experience."

"Are you genuinely asking me to feel privileged to be in the presence of your superior intellect, even if it makes me feel like I'm always a step behind? Because that's how it comes across."

"What a predictably self-centered and utterly tiresome response, Raphael," Levi sighed, a hint of weary exasperation in his voice. "Everything, inevitably, circles back to your own perceived inadequacies, doesn't it? It appears we have reached yet another impasse, where you remain tethered to the chaotic confines of your illogical, messy emotions, while I am endeavoring to engage you in a discourse that transcends such sentimental clutter. A discourse, I might add, that could prove rather illuminating, were you capable of detaching yourself from your own navel-gazing for a mere moment."

Ouch. Okay, that stung. Self-centered? Tiresome? Navel-gazing? He's really laying it on thick. But… is there a sliver of truth in there?

"Okay, Levi," I said, a weary but hopeful tone in my voice. "You feel lonely. And while I appreciate the… less abrasive explanation, maybe try framing it from a 'gentle' perspective next time, alright?"

"Accept my apologies, Raphael," Levi replied, his gaze unwavering but lacking its usual sharp edge. "Truthfully, as I have attempted to convey, it is not rooted in a sense of intellectual superiority, but rather a fundamental difference in cognitive architecture. Which, the fact that I find myself reiterating this point, I assume signifies that the gap between our respective understandings remains… substantial."

"Yeah…" I sighed, running a hand through my hair. "It does. Reading one book about neurodivergency doesn't suddenly make me an expert on the intricacies of your mind, Levi. But… for what it's worth, both you and I will try to bridge that gap, okay?"

"Surely," Levi agreed. "There is only one thing I earnestly wish from you in this endeavor, Raphael. Please, for the sake of Ascaria and the delicate balance we are attempting to achieve, instead of immediately retreating into a perception of yourself as inadequate in these exchanges, take a step back. Attempt to view the situation from a larger perspective. If my base desire was merely to inflict verbal barbs, Raphael, I assure you, I possess far more… efficient and less time-consuming methods than actively engaging you in an intellectual spar, however frustrating it may sometimes be for both of us." He paused, a flicker of something almost vulnerable in his eyes. "Consider it… a testament to your potential, however stubbornly you may sometimes resist acknowledging it."

Okay, deep breath, Raphael. He's actually… asking something of me, not just dissecting me. Larger perspective. Right. This isn't just about my bruised ego in a battle of wits. Try. Just… try.

…

Then came the appointed evening. I donned an expensive suit, the fabric feeling slightly stiff after its time in the closet. Levi, remarkably, had done the same. It had been a considerable time since I'd witnessed him so crisp and neat.

Our guest, Judge Evelyn Reed, arrived right on time. Levi moved to open the door with an almost courtly grace.

"Welcome, Your Honor," he greeted her, his tone smooth and carefully modulated.

"Good evening, Mr. Blake," she replied, her voice carrying a note of professional composure.

"Please," Levi insisted, a subtle undercurrent in his voice, "call me Levi, Your Honor."

This tale has been pilfered from NovelBin. If found on Amazon, kindly file a report.

Now, if one were inclined towards naive interpretations, they might perceive this as humility. However, knowing Levi, it was a far more nuanced maneuver – a subtle probing, a quiet assertion that he operates beyond the need for formal titles. What a man, indeed.

Levi then escorted Judge Reed to the dining table. She offered a bright and genuinely warm smile.

Levi extended his hand towards me, and I instinctively took it. "Your Honor," he said, his smile widening, a touch of possessiveness in his tone as he looked at me, "allow me to introduce my dear husband, Raphael."

Gods… Is that my cue now? Do I address her formally too?

Before I could stumble over a title, Evelyn's warm smile included me. "Ah, Raphael, it's a pleasure to finally meet you. Please, call me Evelyn."

I offered her a relieved smile in return. "Evelyn," I echoed, the name feeling much more natural. "The pleasure is all mine."

After the initial, somewhat strained pleasantries, we settled around the dining table. A palpable tension hung in the air, thick enough to cut with a knife. Evelyn's gaze was sharp and direct, fixed on Levi with an assessing intensity, like a seasoned lawyer sizing up a witness.

"Levi," she began, her tone polite but with an undercurrent of directness that mirrored his own, "I understand you recently completed a two-month stay in a rehabilitation facility."

What a fucking opener.

He simply offered a nonchalant shrug. "That is a matter of public record, Your Honor. My protracted and well-documented battle with addiction is practically common knowledge among the citizenry of Ascaria, is it not?"

"Transparency is commendable, Levi. However, vulnerability can also be perceived as… a potential weakness in a leader," Evelyn stated, a subtle edge to her voice.

God damn… she has absolutely no qualms about going straight for the jugular, does she?

A distinct smirk played on Levi's lips. I recognized that expression – she had taken the first bait, exactly as he'd anticipated.

"Leader, Your Honor?" Levi responded, his tone almost disarmingly casual. "I harbor no illusions of grandeur, no desire to wield the reins of power. That is precisely why I extended the invitation to you, to consider the position of presidential candidate. I am merely… a facilitator in this endeavor."

"So, you possess the acumen to identify a suitable leader, the resources to vet them thoroughly, and the influence to convene such a gathering. Why not step into that leadership role yourself, then, Mr. Blake?" Evelyn pressed.

A subtle twitch played at the corner of Levi's lips, a fleeting hint of amusement. He had clearly anticipated this line of inquiry.

"Ah, but Your Honor," Levi responded, a theatrical flourish in his tone, "that would be dreadfully… pedestrian. I, after all, was instrumental in dismantling the archaic structure of monarchy in Ascaria. If I harbored any personal ambition for such a position, would I have so diligently dissolved the very foundations of nobility and championed the somewhat chaotic beauty of democracy?" He paused, a glint in his eyes. "My interests lie not in wielding the crown, but in shaping the game."

"The chaos of democracy, as you call it, can be easily exploited by those with the foresight and resources to navigate it. A talent you clearly possess," Evelyn said, a hint of challenge in her tone.

Wow. She's not pulling any punches.

Levi offered a theatrical sigh. "How dreadfully tedious, Your Honor. If my base desire was merely to manipulate the intricacies of the democratic system and bend this nation to my will, it would be an endeavor far beneath my rather… expansive set of talents. I possess an ego of sufficient magnitude to aspire to something far grander than simply orchestrating a puppet democracy. The sheer lack of originality would be… insulting to my intellect."

Yeah, that is exactly what I thought. He really had this penchant for somewhat twisted sense of pride and justice.

"Forgive me if I find it difficult to believe that someone of your… capabilities and history has entirely relinquished the desire for control, one way or another," Evelyn said, pressing her point home.

Levi leaned back slightly, a picture of earnest sincerity. "I assure you, Your Honor, I am nothing more than a concerned citizen of Ascaria. As an individual who, through certain circumstances, has acquired a degree of influence on the political landscape, I am certain you observed the palpable power vacuum created during my recent two-month absence. My sole aspiration is to responsibly relinquish that unintended burden to a capable individual. This nascent democracy is still finding its footing, Your Honor. What this nation requires now is a unifying front, a steadfast beacon of hope to guide its future."

Levi is such a politician…

"While your stated desire to relinquish influence is… admirable, the methods you employ suggest a rather hands-on approach to the selection process. Almost as if you need to be certain the 'beacon' shines in a particular direction," Evelyn observed, leaving absolutely no room for misinterpretation.

Levi leaned forward slightly, his intensity returning. "That is the precise antithesis of my objective, Your Honor. I harbor no lust for personal power. What I seek in a presidential candidate is unwavering, relentless opposition to my influence. Someone with the intellectual fortitude and moral courage to stand up to me, to challenge my decisions. Someone who would not devolve into a mewling mess after a spirited, shall we say, 'discussion.' To be perfectly candid, I harbored no desire to reclaim my former position within the government. However," his voice took on a serious edge, "the mere month of my absence revealed the fragility of this nascent democracy, the sheer level of potential incompetence lurking beneath the surface. I need someone, a true leader, who would ensure that a single month's vacancy does not equate to a national collapse."

A faint, almost appreciative smile touched Levi's lips. "Your Honor," he replied, his voice smooth and even, "I am a man of few conventional pastimes. However, intellectual sparring, the rigorous testing of ideas against a sharp and discerning mind, is one of my singular enjoyments. To witness anything less than the fire of conviction in your eyes, to not see a passionate defense of your beliefs, would be an insult to your very being. And that, Your Honor, that very spark of unwavering conviction, is precisely the quality this nation desperately needs in its leader."

"A 'spark of unwavering conviction' can easily become a blinding flame, leading to dogma and inflexibility. I trust you seek a leader with both passion and pragmatism."

Damn. What a blow. She didn't even flinch.

Levi's smile widened ever so slightly, a hint of admiration flickering in his eyes. "An astute observation, Your Honor. Passion without direction is a wildfire, consuming all in its path. Pragmatism devoid of a guiding star is merely treading water, leading nowhere. The ideal leader, much like a skilled navigator, charts a course with both fervent belief in their destination and a keen, unwavering awareness of the treacherous currents."

"While a 'guiding star' is important, a leader must also be grounded in the realities of the present. How will you ensure this individual doesn't become so fixated on the horizon that they ignore the immediate needs of the ship and its crew?" Evelyn reiterated, clearly unimpressed by Levi's metaphors and demanding tangible assurances.

I observed a distinct shift in Levi's demeanor. The playful banter seemed to recede, replaced by a raw, almost urgent intensity.

"Your Honor," Levi began, his voice losing its theatricality, becoming stark and direct, "my recent sobriety, unfortunately, has stripped away much of my patience for pretense. So, let us dispense with the elaborate dance, shall we? I birthed this democracy, with minimal assistance and considerable personal cost. Now, I implore you to ask yourself a fundamental question: do you honestly believe I would stand idly

by and permit a president, any president, to steer this nation towards the brink of collapse once again? In such a scenario, do the niceties of 'method' truly hold any weight? You and I, Your Honor, both know the answer is a resounding no. There is only one true north in such circumstances: justice, the preservation and stability of Ascaria. Forgive my abruptness, but let us cease the polite maneuvering. In all fairness to this fragile nation, Ascaria needs a leader, not another tyrannical shadow like the one I once cast."

Yeah, Levi's brand of "blunt honesty" is certainly… something. He even echoed my own thoughts, calling himself a 'tyrannical shadow.' It's almost… endearing, in a bizarre, Levi-esque way.

"You speak of blunt honesty, Mr. Blake. Very well. Isn't your insistence on finding a leader who can withstand your influence simply a veiled attempt to maintain control, albeit indirectly? A puppet strong enough to appear independent, but ultimately dancing to your tune?" Evelyn had stated, her accusation direct and unwavering.

Gods, she just outright accused him.

“Your Honor, you disappoint me profoundly," Levi sighed, a weariness in his tone. "If my desire was for a mere puppet, I assure you, the acquisition would have been swift and far less… conversational. The fact that I am engaging in this rather intense dialogue should indicate otherwise. Is that concept so fundamentally impossible for you to grasp?”

"The very fact that you orchestrated this dinner and are so deeply invested in the outcome suggests a level of control, direct or indirect," Evelyn countered, her logic relentless. "If you truly sought a completely independent leader, wouldn't a more organic process of emergence have been… more appropriate?"

My God… she has zero tolerance for bullshit. It's so fucking amazing to witness.

Levi's patience seemed to fray, a sharp edge returning to his voice. “Then, Your Honor, you suffer from a fundamental inability to perceive the truth that lies before you. There is currently no individual within this nation who possesses my level of power, my sphere of influence, my intricate web of connections. Whether I embrace the title or not, I am, for better or worse, the de facto Saint of Ascaria. In such a landscape, a purely 'organic process' of leadership emergence is, at this juncture, an utter impossibility. If I must painstakingly lay out every single, self-evident truth for you to absorb, then perhaps I have indeed made a grave error in extending this invitation."

At the close of the evening, Evelyn set down her napkin with a rustle, a small sound that felt as final as a gavel's strike. She met Levi's gaze evenly, the last vestige of warmth gone from her eyes. “I remain unconvinced that you can truly relinquish power, Mr. Blake. But I will consider your words.”

“That is all I ask,” Levi said, his voice smooth.

She shook his hand firmly, a gesture of respect. She offered me a polite, but distant nod and departed without haste, her measured footsteps echoing faintly in the silence of the hallway. The moment she was gone, a low hum of tension seemed to drain from the air, leaving a strange, heavy quiet in its wake.

...

"Come," I murmured, patting the mattress beside me. "Let's just cuddle."

He hesitated for a fleeting second, but then he slowly laid down beside me. His body was intensely warm against my back as he wrapped his arms around me, pulling me closer until there was barely any space left between us.

"Do you agree with her, Raphael?" he asked, his voice flat.

"W-what?" I mumbled, still feeling the lingering adrenaline.

"Should I allow an entirely organic election to happen? It would be the… democratic ideal, wouldn't it? But it will inevitably take longer, and it would make building the economy so much more… cumbersome."

I sighed. "It's a huge decision. But I also genuinely believe you were being honest back there, you know, when you said you didn't need a puppet. And about the election…" I paused, thinking. "Countries shouldn't be planning just for the next six months, Levi. They need to think long-term, five years, ten years down the line. I have faith in you. With some… 'heated discussions,' you'll find a way forward that works for Ascaria."

"Hm… 'Heated discussions' with me, I wonder who would be brave enough to volunteer for that," he rumbled, a hint of his earlier amusement returning.

"I know you're trying to suppress your inner villain," I said, nudging him playfully, "but you were actually… almost nice to her, even when you were being brutally honest."

He tightened his hold around me, his breath warm against my hair. "If it were entirely up to me, I would make this entire country bow down at your feet. But," he sighed softly, "you simply won't let me."

He absolutely would.

"I know you would," I murmured, a wry smile playing on my lips. "In a purely hypothetical, 'what if' scenario, right? It almost sounds… romantic, in a distinctly Levi-esque, world-domination kind of way. But no," I nestled closer, my fingers tracing a line along his arm, "I don't want an entire country bowing down to me. You already do that quite thoroughly, don't you?"

He snuggled closer, inhaling the scent of my hair. "Of course, I do. But, my dear Raphael," he murmured, "my proposal wasn't solely driven by my… 'villainous' tendencies. It's simply what you deserve."

My God. I am grateful for my ability to say "no" to him. That autocratic Duke persona, keeps surfacing whenever he talks about me.

"I… appreciate your conviction, Levi. Truly," I said. "But it's not what I want. And it's not as if I could physically stop you if you truly desired it. Deep down, you also know that I wouldn't want that kind of power, so you don't pursue it. Just… buy me a flower, Levi."

"You wound me, Raphael," he replied, his tone dramatically mournful. "You know I am a penniless man, utterly bereft of worldly possessions."

This again. He absolutely revels in this ridiculous charade, like a chicken in a particularly comfortable barn.

"Shut up, Levi," I sighed, a small smile playing on my lips. "Let's just sleep."

"Speaking of worldly possessions," Levi murmured into my hair, "you never actually went to a lawyer, did you?"

"Hm…" I mumbled, already drifting on the edges of sleep. "No."

"Ah, my dear Raphael," he continued, a strange note of something I couldn't quite decipher in his tone. "So, all this time, your only income, your sole financial support, was coming from the mountains? What an honorable man you are."

"What… Levi…" I began to ask, a sliver of unease cutting through my drowsiness, but the pull of sleep was too strong. My eyelids grew heavy, and the question remained unfinished, lost in the encroaching darkness.