“And how did you come to the conclusion it was a curse?” Beaumont gestured for him to continue.
“I’m a Singulatarian, my wife and I are. We’re members of The Church, and we sought council for my issue, and they were able to discern a curse was placed on me, and from the connection still lingering, it was mong—hybrid magic and the caster local. And since the only coven in the state that associates withhybridsis the Greater Lowell Valley Coven, I started there with a request for information on who might have done so.”
Beaumont nodded sympathetically. “And what was their response?”
“Their response was not forthcoming. They claimed to have no information and refused to provide a list of hybrid mages capable, so I had to hire a private investigator to determine who might be capable of doing such a thing. Depriving me of my wedding night, an heir, a family. My poor wife.” Malarthe shook his head in dismay.
“Objection, Your Honor. Malarthe’s information request was for private information not available without a warrant. He requested a list of all hybrid mages in the coven, which, for safety reasons, is not disseminated. They did offer him a list of all mages who practiced magic relating to body modifications, biomancy, and specifically male enhancement.” I stared at the judge, who nodded.
“Sustained.”
I relaxed slightly.
“As Young Mr. Faust has stated, yes, some information was offered, but it was not what I needed. I obtained the information I did and found that the mong—Greginald Hawthorne casts a profuse amount of curses on male genitalia for money.”
“Objection. Mage Hawthorne does not practice in hexes or curses. Furthermore, he has a contract with an extraplanar fertility goddess that would be nullified immediately if he were to do such a spell. See the mark of Diana on his palm. And I may remind you, Mr. Lymmings, the correct terminology is hybrid.” I lifted Gre’s hand to show the crescent moon sigil, and the judge gestured for a bench assistant to look something up on their computer, verifying the sigil. Gre funneled power into it so it glowed to prove it was genuine.
“Sustained. Mr. Malarthe, please refrain from speculation. We understand you are upset about your manhood, but it’s no excuse to make inflammatory remarks.” Judge Torsten could be an asshole, but he was equally an asshole to all. “And please refrain from using slurs. You may refer to him as Mage Hawthorne or Greginald, but if I hear you start to saymongrimagain, I will have you dismissed from my court.”
“Apologies, Your Honor. Malarthe is a plainspoken and honest man and isn’t up to date on politically correct terminology.” Beaumont saidpolitically correct, but the wayit slid off his tongue detailed exactly how little he thought of politeness.
Judge Torsten, unimpressed as always, narrowed his gaze in a way that spoke volumes. If I had a guess, it was something likeif you have to tell me they’re honest, they’re not.
“So, final question, Mr. Lymmings. What would be the process for removing this curse?” Beaumont blinked up innocently at the judge while Malarthe spoke about payingThe Churcha sum of money to break it.
Judge Torsten whistled appreciatively. “I’m in the wrong business.”
“We all are, Your Honor.” Beaumont shook his head as he stepped back. “No more questions, Your Honor. I cede the floor to you, Young Faust.”
Young Faust.The jab made me prickle, but I kept a straight face as I approached the stand at a calm gait. I thought best while pacing, hand at my side as I played with a pen, toying with the clicker ever so quietly. I didn’t dare actually click it, but touching the button brought me a welcome focal point. “Mr. Lymmings. You are alpha human, correct?”
Malarthe nodded. “Yes. I come from eight generations of human. Beyond that, I believe there was some elven blood.”
Oh, look, I’m one-eighth elven royalty.Esmeray didn’t comment.
Malarthe’s former convictions were inadmissible, no matter how many times he’d gotten arrested for indecent exposure or sexual assault. He’d never had to register, and he’d paid a lot of money to erase little things. Neither were Malarthe’s frivolous lawsuits going back fifteen years. Like clockwork, he sued someone every six months for a living. I doubted he’d ever held a real job.
“And can you describe your failure to perform? I wish no disrespect, simply to gain an understanding of your malady.” Iapproached the bench and rested a hand on the wood before him. Malarthe stared me down, his gaze judgmental, but Iwasan omega and an attractive one. Succubus genetics did it. Without any thaumaturgy or magic, I could ensnare a man’s attention so easily.
“I’m unable to obtain or maintain an erection. If I can synthetically induce one, I cannot reach completion.” Malarthe spoke of it with clearly feigned distress. “So many times I’ve tried to consummate my marriage and… Nothing. My beautiful wife is so downtrodden.”
If I were his wife, I’d be cheering.Still, something was off as I waited for Malarthe to finish crying about his dick not sporting for his marital relations.
Still, as he spoke, he stared me down, eyes lingering at my jawline, my chest, following my backside as I turned to pace again. “And have you thought about seeking the services of a mage to nullify the alleged curse?”
“I’m a Singulatarian. I cannot seek the magics of false gods.” Malarthe kept staring at me, posture shifting uncomfortably.
I nodded in understanding. “Still, seeking out my client as your aggressor seems a bit of a reach, don’t you think?”
“If the coven and the mages won’t give me the information I need, it’s all I can do to sue until I get the answers so I can seek restitution.” Malarthe leaned forward slightly, brow knitted tight.
“Erection— Objection, your honor!” My gut clenched as Gre’s voice rang out. Horrified, I glanced up and over before following his gaze back to Malarthe who had leaned forward, jaw set stubbornly.
Judge Torsten leaned over and frowned. “Sustained? Mr. Malarthe. It appears that part of your statement is incorrect. You appear to have no issues obtaining an erection at this moment.”
As I glanced down, it was apparent that Malarthe had been sniffing me out, my proximity making an alpha react as they naturally would.
“It’s… He must have lifted it. I—” Malarthe fumbled over his words as the judge sighed heavily.
