DD Ward is Writing

Author of romance, fantasy, and horror. Your one stop shop for Victorian fantasy werewolf romance!

[ddwardiswriting]

Chapter 15: Conspiracies

We sat in the Witch and the Willow, a public house that managed to straddle the line between noble and commoner. Fiona had suggested it. It didn’t demand membership or reference from another member. The walls had extensive mahogany paneling. The game designers had placed decorative ceramic tiles between the panels. Somebody had painted a wide array of subjects on the tiles. The pub was lit by lanterns, and the gloom was only somewhat banished as a result. The smell of oil smoke mingled with the smell of spilled beer. The crowd was not yet raucous, but well on their way, and volume was rising. 

In Moonlight Hearts the player could go on dates with the suitors. Each suitor had a list of preferences, things which they liked or disliked. By giving liked gifts and choosing liked locations, the player could raise a suitor’s interest and respect. I knew Fiona’s likes and dislikes well. This pub wasn’t one of them, it was one of Vincent’s favored locations. I assume she knew of it from Vincent.  

A half empty glass of red wine sat in front of me. Fiona and Amy hadn’t touched their wine yet.

“So now what?” Fiona asked, “We have to do something. This is treason.”

Amy drummed her fingers on the table, “We don’t know what the deliveries are yet. We don’t know what Hyperborea is doing. It might be something else.”

Fiona nodded, “This is true. Amy makes a good point. We do not know. We can only speculate. It might be smuggling. And it might be treason. It might be smuggling and treason.”

“Whatever it is,” I said, “I plan to find out. If we can expose this, then Lynn won’t marry that abusive monster. A monster who also happens to be a werewolf. I’d honestly prefer we just kill him.” 

Amy raised her hand, “But that could spark a war. As a psychometrist, the government would draft me to the front lines. The military uses psychometrists as trackers and such. I don’t want that. I’m not cut from material suited for battle.”

I shivered at the thought of Amy forced to fight on the front lines. Of the three of us, she felt the most fragile to me. And my feelings for Amy made my brow furrow as I considered the consequences of war with Hyperborea. Fiona and Amy fighting on the front lines was a mental image I couldn’t stand. I felt my heart beating in my chest. I took several slow breaths to calm my heart and tamp down my worry. Then I realized that Fiona was speaking.

“We could use what we find as leverage,” Fiona said. “I doubt Hyperborea would want Ys to expose them like that to other nations.”

So, we find out what is happening. And then what do we do?” Amy asked.

“I would prefer that we expose them to the house of Lords.” Fiona said.

“Can you expose them in secret?” I said, “That way the council can use the evidence we find to put pressure on Hyperborea.”

“The subtleties of politics are wasted on me,” Fiona said. “But that does sound like the way politics work.”

“You’re a countess. Politics are your job.” I said.

Fiona nodded, “And I am infamous for my leaden touch in negotiations.”

“So, we’re giving the council of lords blackmail material?” Amy asked.

“If we can, yes.” I said. Then I stopped talking. Something was wrong. The room was spinning.

“Ladies? Is the room spinning for anyone else?”

“You are two and half glasses of wine in,” Fiona said.

“Oh, that’s nothing,” Amy grinned, “My lady can down a bottle herself, without any trouble. It shouldn’t be the wine.”

“Whatever it is, it’s getting worse.” I said.

“Are you going to become sick?” Fiona asked.

“I think I’m going to pass ou-”

And then darkness. I felt the darkness as well as saw it. A light bloomed before me. White roses bloomed in a circle, and within that circle of flowers, I saw a small stone house in a city. The architecture looked Yssian. Around the house several hundred soldiers massed, with flintlock rifles and sabers. My vision moved inside the house. Lynn stood in the house, surrounded by ten men in common garb, tunics and trousers. Although I noticed that they wore good Hessian boots. A strange body half covered in fur lay in the center of the floor. I noticed a pile of blood-spattered bones in the corner. The bones looked human. 

The soldiers were about to come down on the house like a hurricane. What had caused this? Why wasn’t I protecting Lynn, where was I? And my vision pulled back in both space and time. 

I saw myself standing before my father. Yellow roses coiled around the edge of my vision, their petals wilting before my eyes. I caught wisps of conversation.

"...everyone who gets caught pays the price..."

“You’re one of them, daughter. It gives me no pleasure to do this, but... ...You will not be welcome back in Castle Octavian until you come to your senses..."

“Then I suspect that somebody should escort me off the premises…”

“Is she breathing?”

“Yes. But the breathing is irregular.”

“Her aura is reaching out. But I can’t tell where it is reaching.” 

I coughed, my chest felt tight, and I found myself scrambling for air. 

“Something is wrong! She is panicking!”

I felt as though I were struggling underwater. I tried to kick to the surface.

“Hold her legs! Hold her legs!”

That was Amy! And the other voice, Fiona! I was having a vision. A real vision! I was hallucinating. Oh god, I could be hurting them flailing around like this. I needed to calm down. I focused on loosening my muscles. I willed myself to relax. 

“She’s calming down.”

I felt my vision returning, the interior of the Witch and the Willow swam into focus. Amy and Fiona knelt above me. I was laying on the rough wooden floorboards.

“Are you alright? Lady Ren? Are you alright?” Amy touched my cheek, gentle as a summer breeze. 

“I’m alright,” I said, “I’m sorry for the drama. I haven’t had a vision quite like that before.”

Fiona raised an eyebrow, “You had a vision? Your precognitive gift?”

I pulled myself up to a sitting position, “My gift. My inconvenience is more accurate.”

“Are you well?” Amy asked.

“What did you see?” Fiona asked.

“Show some concern for her health! Um, your excellency.” Amy stammered. 

Fion grinned in response, “I have as much concern as you do, but you already asked after her health. I did not want to duplicate our efforts.”

“There’s that warm Fiona touch,” I said with a smile.

“Was that a joke? Fiona asked, matching my smile.

“A little bit.” I said, “I’m fine Amy. Thank you both for your concern.”

“Yes. But what did you see?” Fiona said. 

“I saw a horde of soldiers surrounding Lynn and ten strangers. The soldiers were preparing to attack. And I asked why I hadn’t helped her? And then I heard my father casting me out of the house.”

“The vision was about Lynn?” Amy asked.

“That does not sound hopeful. Was there any hope in the vision?”

“When they cast me out, I took it like a badass. Does that count?”

“Perhaps.” Fiona said the word as though it had three syllables.

“Sorry, that’s all I’ve got for you.”

“Whose uniforms were the soldiers wearing.” Fiona asked.

“They were Yssian. They were Marine Infantry.”

“Why would Yssian military attack Lynn? Why especially would the navy do so? Leon would rage like a lion if that happened.” Fiona said.

“Then we’d better be ready for a lion,” I said, “Because visions are never wrong. Incomplete yes. But never wrong.”

I grasped the table and tried to stand up. But my legs gave out, and I stumbled. Fiona and Amy stepped in unison and caught me on either side. I looked around and realized the entire pub was watching. 

“Happy to put on a show folks.” I muttered. Louder, I said, “Thank you ladies. Could you help me get home?”

“Of course, Lady Ren.”

“It would be my pleasure Ren.”

- - -

By DD Ward and Margaret Lovelace

ddwardiswriting.blogspot.com

[ddwardiswriting]

Chapter 14: Wandering

“What do we do next?” I asked Fiona and Amy,” I can’t imagine that we have time to do a regular investigation.”

“We could use your precognition.” Fiona said, “Or my gift of sensing auras.”

“I don’t have much control over my gift. It happens when it happens.” I deflected, “And using your gift would mean that we have to  go around and question people one by one. I don’t think those are options.”

Amy raised her hand, “You could try to force a vision, Lady Ren. I know it doesn’t always work. But it’s an option. Also, I can do more than I have with my gift.”

“Indeed? What else can you do?” Fiona asked.

I shook my head, “I’ve already got you bleeding for my sake. No, you’ve done enough.”

I wiped at Amy’s face with a fresh handkerchief. She brought her hands up and clasped them over mine.

“Ren. I have done this before. I do have control over my gift. It hurts a little when I push things. But this wouldn’t do that. But I would need you to watch over me and keep me safe.” She smiled. 

I didn’t say anything. 

Fiona steepled her hands together and spoke, “Your willingness to help is commendable. What would you do?”

“I could activate my power and let the link pull me to the strongest association.”

My eyes narrowed, “Pull? How would it pull you?”

“From the outside it looks as though I’m sleepwalking. And like sleepwalking, I am unaware of my surroundings. The gift prevents me from bumping into walls or falling down stairs. But my gift won’t account for people. So you two would need to run interference.”

Fiona nodded, “This is excellent. Exactly what we need.”

“It’s dangerous,” I said, standing and shaking my head. “If the traitor puts two and two together and figures out what we’re doing, it puts Amy in jeopardy.”

“Where is your loyalty to Lynn?” Fiona asked.

“You stopped me from chasing after her.” I said.

“Yes. But I did not intend for you to stop helping her.”

“She told me not to help.”

“And do you think she is safe on her own?” 

I tensed. And I found myself clenching my jaw. I didn’t want to put Amy at risk to protect Lynn. I didn’t want to leave Lynn in danger to protect Amy. A layer of tears formed on my eyes and I struggled to contain it. 

Amy stood up and wrapped her arms around me, drawing me into an embrace, “I can do this. Let me do this. I know you can protect me. I trust you.”

I swallowed. This was why Lynn wanted to follow the preset game path. If she did, then she could feel certain that things would turn out in a predictable manner. By playing outside the parameters of the game, I was in uncharted waters. 

Amy squeezed me again, “Please. Let me help you.”

I sagged, and let my breath out- deflating against Amy.

“Alright. Amy, I'll protect you. Do your thing. I’ll have your back.”

Amy smiled and dropped a second peck on my cheek, and I smiled in spite of myself. She stood, her back straight, and clasped her hands around the badge a second time. Her gaze seemed to go distant, and her eyes developed a milky shine.

“She reached the state almost immediately this time.” Fiona said. 

Amy began walking towards the door of the parlor.

“We better get that door. I don’t know if she can open that in this state.” I stood and strode past Amy to open the door.”

“She did not mention doors.” Fiona said.

“I’ll stay ahead of her. You walk beside or behind her so nobody bumps into her from behind.”

Fiona nodded.

We followed as Amy sleepwalked out of the parlor and into the drawing room. Lynn was speaking to her father in the corner. Several girls I recognized as distant cousins were playing a card game with tarot cards. 

The Baron noticed us and furrowed his brow. He raised a hand and called to me, “Karen, child!”

“Yes, uncle?” I tried not to betray any worry.

“What is that maid doing?” My uncle asked. 

My mind raced. I’d already exposed my relationship with Amy to Fiona. And while I trusted her to keep it secret, I didn’t want anyone else to know. What could I say? 

“Amy has the mystic gift of object reading,” I answered, watching Fiona and Amy move away from me. “She’s helping us find a lost object. But I’m sorry uncle. I need to go. It’s like she’s sleepwalking and I can’t let her bump into somebody or worse.”

“Wait, what object? Where are you going?” Lynn asked.

“Something. Clothing I lost. Hats. Very nice hats. I want them back. I’m sorry Lynn. They’re getting away from me. I have to go!” 

I scampered off as best I could. Ignoring Lynn calling after me. I caught them as they exited the drawing room and entered the smoking room. The fumes wafted at me like a wall of perfumed death. The walls of the smoking room had been madder red when the paint was new. They had since stained to a dark oxblood from the smoke. My great aunt Cecile looked up from an enormous cigar she had dipped in a cup of brandy. I only recognized her because Lynn showed me the concept art book for Moonlight Hearts. She didn’t appear in the game. She wore a white and cyan sack-back gown. The gown surprised me. Most of the fashion thus far had been from the nineteenth century. The sack-back gown hailed from the eighteenth century. I assumed that the designers were trying to emphasize her age. She wore what looked like a stainless steel chain necklace.

“What’s with the sleepwalker? Isn’t that your maid?” She asked, her voice a testament to the dedication she held to her cigars. 

“Yes, she is my maid.” I nodded. “She’s using her mystic gift to track down a hat I lost.”

Cecile snorted, “You want hats, marry a milliner.”

“I’m gay, Aunt Cecile.”

“So marry a gay milliner, and do the dirty dirty with the maid. This one is cute. Start with her!”

I flinched, “Aunt Cecile, I am so glad she can’t hear you. I’ve managed to convince her I’m not a complete bitch anymore.”

“You’re not? That’s a shame. I always liked your sass. Scare the little buggers and keep them off balance. You should keep some of it, so you don’t get boring.”

I looked as Fiona opened the door from the Smoking Room to the Gray Room, “I’ll take that under advisement Aunt Cecile. I can always be a bitch special for you. But I have to go.”

She cackled at me, “That’s the spirit. Keep people off guessing. Hah! Now you chase that hot little piece of ass!”

I could feel my face heating up. “Not the goal Auntie, but thank you!”

I followed Fiona and Amy and closed the door behind me. The gray room was empty. And so we had a respite. 

“Who was that?” Fiona asked.

“Which one?”

“The one with the cigar.”

“My great aunt. She’s a clairvoyant, and worked as an advisor to Duke Leon’s father years ago.”

“She has the most intimidating aura I have ever seen.”

“You should see her if she ever gets mad.” I answered. 

“About Amy,” Fiona said.

“Careful there,” I answered.

“I can see why you like her. I like her. She is pleasant, compassionate and brave. She is also beautiful. And she is loyal and determined. She is a sweet girl. You both are.”

“I’m twenty one. I’m only seven years younger than you. In the scheme of things that isn’t a lot. Where’s the line between girl and woman?”

“How did you know my age?” Fiona asked.

“I have the gift of precognition, and my cousin was about to meet her suitors.” I said. I still hadn’t actually had a precognitive vision, but it was proving a good excuse to explain my knowledge. 

“Oh indeed. I understand. But I had a point. I understand the attraction to your Amy. And though I worry about the consequences of exposure, I will not ask you to desist in your relationship. With luck, she will become my friend in the long term. And should we marry, I can hire her away from Castle Octavian.”

I didn’t know what to say to that. I wasn’t sure it was fair to call her ‘my’ Amy. But I couldn’t articulate my objection, so I said nothing. 

Then Amy stopped walking. We turned and looked. Amy was standing motionless in front of a small oak door in the back of the gray room. 

Amy’s head straightened up, and she looked around. Turning, she saw us and clapped her hands, “This is it!” 

I nodded, “Apparently it is.”

Amy’s smile faded, “What’s wrong?” 

I pointed, “Look where you stopped.”

Amy turned back around and gasped. She took three steps back, as though the door was going to bite her.

“Oh no.” She whispered.

I nodded, “Yeah, big screaming oh no.”

Fiona looked at us, “Whose study is that?”

I looked at Fiona, “That study belongs to my father.”

Fiona nodded, “Oh no, indeed.”

[ddwardiswriting]

Chapter 13: Insight

“So, can you use your gift to take a look at this?” I asked, digging into my pocket and producing the badge of service.

Amy looked at it, holding it close to her face, “An Octavian badge? Sure, I’ll give you a read on this. But Manfred hands out all the badges so it’ll end with Manfred and then the jeweler who made it.”

“But the points in the middle might tell us something,” Fiona said. “The person who had it before the gentleman we took it from will likely be the most important person.”

“Alright. Lady Ren, may I sit? Using my gift is taxing. I can lose my balance when I receive the impressions of the other people who’ve held the item.”

I patted the spot on the loveseat next to myself. Amy sat next to me. She took a moment to nuzzle me. I noticed she was staring at Fiona. They had their eyes locked. After a moment longer than I liked, Amy looked away. She clasped her hands around the badge and then closed her eyes. 

She sat still and silent. 

Nothing happened. Amy sat motionless. Her expression remained blank. 

“She is bold,” Fiona said, “I like her.”

“So do I,” I said.

“She does not wish to upset you. But she made sure I understood that she would not back off to placate me.”

“She did? How did you know?”

“I do not read faces well. I am not good at nuance or subtext. But she made eye contact and held. And then she pressed herself against you, while maintaining eye contact. That is a message I understand. She has my respect for that. And she is gorgeous. You have good taste.”

“You’re not upset?”

“I am worried. The class difference would cause a scandal if somebody exposed your secret. That could complicate our relationship. And new though it is, I wish to retain that relationship.”

“I do too.”

“But, to answer your question. No, I am not upset. I am intrigued.”

“That’s something,” I said.

“She has it.” Fiona said, “Her aura has changed.”

I looked and noticed Amy’s expression had tightened into a grimace. 

“A lot is happening in her head right now. It is impressive to watch.” Fiona said. 

“Is she okay?” I asked, “It looks like she’s in pain.”

“She is not comfortable, but I do not think I would call it pain yet. But she is not enjoying whatever she is seeing. You are worried about her.”

“Of course I am! You know what we are to each other. Of course I’d worry about her.”

“Indeed. I am glad to see your concern. How long have you been together?”

I sighed, “Days. But she’s been my personal maid for three years.”

“So you have been pining for her? Did I pick an inopportune time to begin courting you?”

“Of course not. You’re an amazing woman,” I answered. “And you’re a very good match as you say. I wouldn’t be able to marry a commoner at this point anyway.”

“Indeed you would not. That would take great sacrifice or greater authority than you have.”

Amy’s nose had started bleeding. I put my hands on her shoulders.

“Is she alright?” I asked.

“She is in pain now. Beyond that, you and I know the same amount. We have different gifts than she has. I have not practiced my gift as a professional. And I do not have any friends or connections within the professional mystic community. I assume that you do not either?”

“No.” I didn’t want to tell Fiona that I didn’t have friends. Not as Lady Karen or Lady Ren. I paused and dabbed at the blood on Amy’s face. I wiped the trickle away so it wouldn’t stain her uniform. I didn’t want her getting in trouble for that on my account. “Fiona, I didn’t know that my ladybird had a mystic gift. I’m clearly not aware of these things.”

“True.” Fiona said. “Ah. Miss, have you finished?”

I stopped with my handkerchief still brushing her face.

“I am,” Amy said, then she coughed into her left hand and closed her hand into a fist. “Did I get a nosebleed? Thank you dear.”

She took my hand with her free right hand.

“I was worrying,” I said.

“I’m sorry Ren, I should have warned you that counter measures can make my gift strain my body.”

“Counter measures? What do you mean?”

“May I borrow your handkerchief?”

I nodded and handed it to her. She wiped her left hand on the handkerchief and more blood stained it. I realized that she had coughed up blood.

“Defenses against scrying, like my object reading or clairvoyance.” Amy said, “There are alchemical powders that ward a person or a place.  They can be against object reading or other gifts. A mystic can sometimes force through the wards. That’s what I did here. But a few blood vessels in my nose burst.”

“You’re not hurt?” I asked.

“I hurt,” Amy said, “I’m not injured though.” 

She leaned in and kissed me on the cheek. 

“Have we expressed enough concern now?” Fiona asked, “May we ask what you learned?”

I shuddered. I thought I was socially inept. But that was impressive. 

Amy giggled. I sighed with relief.

“Of course Your Excellency. I appreciate your concern.”

Fiona shook her head, “When we are alone, you may call me Fiona as you call your mistress Ren.”

“Of course Your Excellency. I’m sorry. Fiona. The man who had the badge last used to come and go from our estate with some sort of deliveries. He didn’t know what was in the deliveries. And I am confident he is dead now.”

I coughed.

“That may have been me,” Fiona said. ‘Correction, that was definitely me.”

“Oh,” Amy whispered, “Was it necessary?”

Fiona nodded, “Yes. He was a werewolf working for the crown prince. And he attacked Ren.”

Amy nodded, “Then it was very necessary. Before the nasty werewolf, the badge was in the possession of a very boring man. If you want my guess, he was a bureaucrat. He transported the badge to the nasty werewolf, but didn’t do much else.”

“We can leave him out then,” I said.

“It’s the next one who is interesting.” Amy said, “He was the one using a ward. You’re lucky I’m good at this. I couldn’t get all the way through the alchemical defenses. But I could tell that they were an actual member of House Octavian. And I’m confident that they are a lord, and not a servant.” 

“So this isn’t a conspiracy against my house,” I said, “It’s a conspiracy within my house.”

This was creepy. I had watched Lynn play through the game along five different story paths. And I had listened to Lynn talk about the game non-stop. She had never mentioned a conspiracy involving House Octavian. And she had never mentioned a smuggling sub plot. And I couldn’t remember any myself. 

I wanted to ask Lynn about it. But I had no idea where I stood with her.  

“Somebody in House Octavian is conspiring with Hyperborea. This is not good.” Fiona said, “At the mildest, this is criminal. At its most severe, this is treason. If we keep digging, this could bring down your whole house. Are you sure that you wish to continue?”

I was quiet for a moment. Fiona was right. It depended upon who had given out that badge, and how high their status. But what we discovered could shatter House Octavian. This could ruin everyone within the house.

“It doesn't matter. We have to go forward,” I said.

Would Lynn let me bring down House Octavian if it would save Ys?

[ddwardiswriting]

Chapter 12: Object Reader

Back at Castle Octavian, I led Fiona to my bedroom. At the door to my room Fiona stopped me.

“What is it?” I asked.

“Taking me back to your bedroom is not appropriate at this juncture.” Fiona said.

Of course not, I realized. The Castle had a drawing room and a parlor for entertaining guests. Fiona had stopped me from making a major mistake. Bedrooms weren’t social spaces in Victorian times. I had been far too familiar with a woman who had only asked to court me today.

“You’re right. I wasn’t thinking. I am so sorry.” I held my hands up as if in prayer and bowed my head.

“You need not apologize. But I thank you.”

“I’ll take you to the parlor,” I said. 

“That would be fine.” Fiona answered.

We headed for the parlor, only for Lynn to intercept us. She wore a simple pastel purple empire cut dress. I noticed a woven silver and gold graduated necklace with amethysts. 

"Did you deliver my message and your apology?" Lynn asked.

"I did."

"Do you think it helped?" She asked, her hands clasped in front of her. 

I thought back to the disinterested response the ambassador had given, and said, "He didn't seem to care."

"He displayed a disinterested attitude. But his subordinate tried to kill you. So I suspect what we said had an impact."

Lynn stopped moving, "What?"

Fiona nodded, "A werewolf attacked Ren. I dispatched it. The beast turned out to be Wulfric’s bodyguard."

"You were attacked by a werewolf? Did it cut you? Are you infected?"

"We remain unharmed," Fiona answered.

"Fiona took him out in one blow." I gushed. 

"What did the city watch say?" Lynn asked.

"Nothing. He attacked us in an abandoned street. There were no city guards and no townsfolk. Nobody saw us. Ren was in shock from the encounter. And so I left the body for others to discover. I am countess. Nobody will question my decision."

"But why would they try to kill you?" Lynn whispered.

"That is the question," I said, "We're off script though. I don't know what comes next."

"Neither do I," Lynn answered, "You had to slap Wulfric. Why did you have to have my back like that? I'm not worth this. And now people will die."

"Lady Lynn,” Fiona said, “People are always dying. You are not responsible for all of them. Leave responsibility of the barony to your father. Leave responsibility of the duchy to Leon. You have sent your message accepting his less than charming proposal. Ren has apologized. This does not undo what has happened. But you have done what you can."

"I can always do more." Lynn answered.

"You have a responsibility to your friends and family,” Fiona continued, “You owe it to them not to burn yourself up."

"But I don't deserve them." Lynn said.

"This is pouring out now, isn't it?" I said, "You popped the seal on talking about your self-esteem issues and your martyr complex. And now you can't stop."

"Ren, please. Don't psychoanalyze me now. I can't handle it."

"I'm sorry," I said. "I'm not trying to hurt you. If I am, then I'm stopping."

"You're hurting me. I know you're trying to help. But you're hurting. First you slapped Prince Wulfric. I knew how to handle him. And now I don't. And now, you've botched the apology. I don't know how, but why else would they send an assassin?"

"I don't know. What if Wulfric decided to kill me for the slap? That's not too far-fetched is it?"

"That isn't better! And that's still because of what you did!” She said, “Don't help Ren. End of story. Don’t help. I love you. But please. Don't help. I can't survive your help."

She turned and ran. Lynn and I always clashed over her self-esteem issues. And I had a skill for making things worse. I moved to follow her, but Fiona put a hand on my shoulder. 

“You will be no help.” She said, “Lynn cannot see. Her fear of failure has blinded her. You will make things worse. Let us go to the parlor and deal with our own problems.”

Nobody else was in the parlor. That served me well enough. The room had several wingback chairs and three loveseats. The wallpaper depicted a plant themed arabesque pattern in cyan and tea green. In the parlor we sat on loveseats opposite each other with a coffee table between the loveseats. 

“I don’t know any of the servants who have mystic gifts,” I said, “So we’ll have to ask the servants one by one.”

“Or we could seek out a professional psychometrist. We could talk to somebody who uses object reading to make a living.”

I nodded, “Good idea. Let’s see if we get lucky with the servants, and then move on to the professionals so we don’t waste time. How does that sound?”

“Ladies, would either of you like a drink?”

I looked up to see Amy standing above us with a drinks tray. 

“Brilliant timing. Thank you Amy. I don’t know what I would do without you.”

“You’ll never have to find out, my lady.” Amy said with a smile and a slight blush. 

I took a glass of red wine and took a sip.

Fiona looked at Amy, and then back to me. I raised my eyebrows, “What is it?”

“How long have you two been together?” Fiona asked

I gasped, and looked in shock at Fiona. And then I downed the rest of the wine. I grabbed a second glass and tipped my head back to down that glass as well. 

Amy took a step back, “Your Excellency, I am not sure what you mean.”

Fiona looked between us again, and then nodded. 

“You may, of course, count upon my discretion. We are alone. I will not speak this way in company.”

“It isn’t that, Fiona!” I said.

Fiona looked back at me, “Then is it because we are courting? I have nothing against you keeping a ladybird. Should we marry, I do plan to seek out male companionship for pleasure and producing an heir. ”

“Of course,” I said, lips pursed, “I have no problem with you doing that. But what makes you think that we’re a couple?”

“My gift to see auras confirmed it,” Fiona said, “But I could tell before that.”

“You’re courting?” Amy asked, a small frown forming. “When did that happen?”

Fiona looked at her, “To be precise, it has not happened. I have asked to court your mistress. I will send over the formal Scythian gift which marks the beginning of our courtship in short order. Then we will be courting.” 

“Perhaps we can start by asking Amy our question,” I said, trying to change the subject.

“Yes, that is a good idea. We can discuss our respective relationship statuses later.” Fiona answered.

Amy looked at Fiona and then at myself, “What question did you want to ask?”

“Did you know any of the servants who have a mystic gift? We’re looking for somebody with the Object Read gift.”

Amy blinked, “Really? Really?,” she paused and then caught herself. “I’m sorry, Lady Ren, that was rude of me.”

I smiled, “It’s fine, and we may as well act as though we’re alone at this point. She has figured us out.”

Amy flinched, “Don’t confirm it!” 

Fiona looked at Amy, “You seemed surprised when we mentioned Object Read. Why is that?”

“Well, I do know somebody with the Object Read gift. I see them in the mirror each morning.”

I shook my head, “You can Object Read?”

Amy nodded. 

“You are full of surprises,” Fiona said.

“But not enough of them stay surprises,” Amy sighed. 

- - -

By DD Ward and Margaret Lovelace

ddwardiswriting.blogspot.com

[ddwardiswriting]

Chapter 11: The Wolf

We were walking back to Castle Octavian. As we passed the halfway mark, in a quiet side street, Fiona clasped my hand. I gasped.

She whispered to me, “We are being followed. No. I misspeak. We are being hunted. Look, the streets should not be empty. Do not act alarmed. But be ready to seek cover if I tell you.”

So much for romance. I looked around. The streets stood empty. The shops sat closed. Fiona was right, that was weird. It was suspicious, now that I considered it. Even the smell of horse manure was faint here, a near impossibility on a city street. This was the perfect place for an ambush. 

We walked on until I felt Fiona’s grip tighten. I prepared to run. Fiona made an abrupt stop and dropped her weapons. Then she grabbed my shoulders and pulled me back against her breast. I had a millisecond to realize that due to our height difference, Fiona’s face buried itself nose deep in my bosom. And then that millisecond passed and a thin hairy beast leaped through the space I had occupied. It landed and rolled to a crouch facing us. 

The thing that had attacked was bipedal with the face of a wolf. Muscles rippled beneath skin and fur and precious little fat. Saliva dripped from an open muzzle. Thing curled its lip back exposing fangs. It snarled at us. 

“Oh crap, we’re at the part with the werewolves already?” I said.

Fiona looked at me, “This does not surprise you?”

She stepped between me and the werewolf, as I scrambled to explain my foreknowledge of events in the game.

“Precognition, remember?” I said.

Fiona nodded, “Of course, now seek cover!”

I ran for a collection of stray barrels outside an abandoned shop storefront. The werewolf leaped at Fiona. She stood her ground and the werewolf hurtled into her and knocked her on her back. The werewolf raised its clawed hands, ready to rake down onto Fiona. She smiled. And then she drove a silver dagger into the werewolf’s heart. The blade thrust in up to the hilt. The wound bubbled and hissed. The werewolf flinched, struggled to stay upright for a second, and then toppled over on its back. 

Fiona stood, her sash falling to the ground as she did. I hadn’t even reached the barrels. I turned back and jogged to Fiona’s side. Her sash lay on the ground next to half of the silver clasp.  

“Well I know I feel very protected.” I said, “That was amazing. You were so fast. I didn’t even have time to reach cover. It was just boom, bam, stab, dead. So impressive. Thank you so much for coming. That werewolf would have cut me to ribbons and eaten the pieces if you hadn’t been here. I’m rambling. How many clasps like that do you have? Could you get me one? Why did you use that dagger and not your saber? I’m definitely rambling. Am I in shock?”

Fiona patted my shoulder, “You may be in mild shock. Have you ever experienced violence up close before?”

“The occasional drunk fight at a party. And I was drunk then as well.”

“Then you are likely in mild shock. Sit down for a moment. No, I have an idea that is better.”

She led me to the barrels and sat down cross legged a few feet from them. 

She patted her lap, “We need to lower your head and raise your legs. So please, place your head in my lap and prop your feet up on the barrel.”

I blushed. I was beginning to feel like I’d be blushing forever. Then a wave of dizziness threatened to steal my balance, and I stumbled. I dropped to one knee as the dizziness swirled in my skull. I took a moment to steady myself and then twisted onto my back. I lay my head in Fiona’s lap and propped my feet on a barrel as she had instructed me. 

“Now. Try to relax. I will distract you by answering your questions.”

“My questions?”

“Yes. Now the first question. I have four such clasps: one in gold, one in silver, and two in steel. I use the gold and silver for more formal occasions. I use the steel ones for my monster hunting. Now the second question. I will see if I am able to obtain a similar clasp for you from my artificer. But that will take time. And the third question. I used my dagger, because this was a werewolf and none of my other weapons were silver. I am lucky that I did not wear the gold one. Its blade is steel.”

“Yeah. I’m impressed. I didn’t expect a werewolf to go down that easy.”

“Indeed. I am very good at this. But this is a pup, less than fifty years old. The Night Folk become stronger the longer they live. And unless somebody kills them, they do not age or die.”

“That sounds more like a vampire.” I said.

Fiona shook her head, “It is a mistake to think of the immortals as separate entities. Vampires retain all their powers from their younger forms. They can still take the wolfman form. They still are still harmed by silver. They also have even more power.”

“Wait, werewolves are baby vampires?” I said.

“Yes. I know this is not common knowledge among commoners, but I expected a lord to be aware of it.”

“I must not have been paying attention to my tutor that day.” I said. 

The dizziness rolled across me for several minutes as I lay in the empty street. Despite my vertigo, I reveled in the feeling of laying my head in Fiona’s lap. She said nothing more as we waited, but stroked my hair with a gentle hand. The dizziness finally passed. But I waited several minutes more before admitting that fact to Fiona. 

“I’m feeling better,” I said.

“Well enough to stand?” She asked.

“Well, If I’m being honest, I felt well enough five minutes ago. But you felt so nice that I didn’t say anything.”

Fiona laughed, “And I feared courting you would be a challenge!”

I reddened, “You knew how many men passed through my bed chambers, and thought I would be challenging?”

“Men. I am not a man. When I saw you eyeing my cleavage last night, I knew you had an interest. But I did not know how you would respond to my courting you as a woman. You have bedded men. But to my knowledge you have never allowed yourself to be courted. And you definitely have never been courted by a woman.” 

“I feel like a research specimen,” I said, “Wait. You saw me looking at your cleavage?” 

“It was very flattering,” Fiona said and then looked away. “I will confess to asking after your history and reputation at the party and back at Myrddhin House. I knew some of the stories. But I wished to prepare to court you. And do not handle social interactions with most people well. And so I prepare for them in advance where possible. I hope this does not offend you.”

“I have the precognitive gift. It would be pretty hypocritical of me to be angry.”

“Thank you. Now, we should check on the body of our attacker.” Fiona said. 

I nodded and we stood. Fiona walked to the corpse of the werewolf. The fur and wolf’s head were gone. The werewolf now lay revealed as Ragnar Ulfson, Prince Wulfric’s personal guard. Fiona dropped to one knee and examined the corpse. 

“Wulfric’s shadow,” She said. “I do not like this. I should have seen this.”

“My precognition told me that Wulfric was a werewolf,” I said. 

I needed a way to bring Fiona up to speed on what I knew about this part of the game. And I could use my mystic gift as a smokescreen. 

Fiona nodded, “This does not bode well for us.”

I checked over the corpse, looking for something that might be useful. In his pocket, I found a badge of service, one used by the noble houses to mark a person as aligned with their house. On the badge was the red and gold counterchanged hunting dog of House Octavian. 

“This doesn’t fill me with happiness,” I said. “What do you make of it?”

Fiona looked at the badge. “This man or somebody connected to him has been impersonating your people. But where did he get the badge?”

I nodded, “That’s the big question. Let’s ask around at Castle Octavian, and see if any of our servants have the mystic gift of Object Read. Then we can track this badge back through everyone who has held it.”

- - -

By DD Ward and Margaret Lovelace

ddwardiswriting.blogspot.com

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Mechanical Heart: a science fiction romance. 

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Paranorman is better than it has any right to be.

[ddwardiswriting]

Chapter 10: A Long Walk

As I walked towards the front gate, Manfred caught up with me.

“Lady, a letter from Duke Delmar arrived by messenger.” He handed me an envelope and a paper knife. I cut the envelope open and returned the envelope and the paper knife to Manfred.

“Thank you Manfred. I appreciate you getting this to me before I left.”

Manfred caught himself mid-eyebrow raise, and switched to a smile. “You are most welcome Lady.”

As Manfred departed, I opened the letter and read.

“Dear Lady Ren. I am writing as I could not find an appropriate time yesterday to discuss this with you alone. We share a common cause: your cousin Lynn. I care for her. We have never known each other well. But we could not avoid seeing each other at social functions growing up. I have harbored something of a school boy crush on Lynn for the past four years. And I understand that she may return my affection. But my own affection compels me to oppose her choice to wed Prince Wulfric. I can see that you feel as I do, and are willing to go to great lengths to protect your cousin. Consider me your ally. My title does restrict what I can do without causing an incident. But there are things which I can do within the Duchy, which no one else can do. If you need my help, please ask. Your Co-conspirator- Duke Leon Delmar.”

I folded the letter and slid it into my bodice. Then I stepped out from the castle keep. 

I made my way through the courtyard to the barbican leading out beyond the castle walls. The castle had a medieval gothic style. The city of Octavo had developed around the castle, and was one of the oldest cities on Ys. The courtyard smelled of leather, oil, and horse manure. The clopping of hooves on stone dominated the soundscape.

Fiona stood waiting at the gate of Castle Octavian when I exited. She had dressed in sturdy black trousers and a matching long coat. She wore a crimson sash across her waist, bound by a silver cylindrical clasp. The clasp looked like the one she had worn yesterday. She also wore a white linen button up shirt with a detachable imperial high collar. She wore the shirt with the top four buttons open, exposing more than a little cleavage. I bit my lip. That fashion choice couldn’t be accidental. Did she want me looking at her? She must want that, mustn’t she? I thought back to her previous outfit. Were low cut necklines her style? Mother had thought that Fiona was straight, but I knew better from Lynn's playthroughs.

I waved at Fiona as I approached. She waved in response.

“Good morning Lady Ren,” She smiled. “Did you not think trousers would be more practical? In the event that things turn violent, your skirt is lovely but dangerous.”

I looked down at my kelly green pleated maxi dress. The dress was high waisted and reached down to my ankles. But it did provide more range of motion than most dresses.

“Don’t I look good in my dress?” I asked, I spun to flare the dress and the mantle.

When I stopped my spin, I noticed Fiona was blushing.

She coughed, “You look splendid. I did not mean to imply otherwise. I rarely imply anything. My concern was your safety.”

“Thank you. You look amazing too. I love your shirt,” I paused, “I’m not staring at your chest, I promise.”

Fiona grinned, “I did not wear this shirt by coincidence. But I do worry about your safety. Can you protect yourself in that dress?”

Wait, did she say that she didn’t wear the shirt open by coincidence? Had I heard that right? I shook my head, “I can’t, but I couldn’t anyway. I’m not a combatant. That’s your department. You handle the fighting, and I’ll handle the screaming and cowering and flailing of arms.”

“You have had no combat training?” Fiona asked. She shifted her weight. I dragged my eyes back up to her face, ignoring her exposed collarbone and cleavage. 

I didn’t know if the rival had received any combat training. She never used it in any path through Moonlight Hearts. But I knew that I didn’t have any combat training. So I shook my head.

“That seems like an oversight. Anyone who might lead a house one day must be able to defend themselves. Worse, if war with Hyperborea does arrive, your lack of training will expose you to danger. At least you will not find yourself on the front lines.”

“It sounds like you would though? Shouldn’t you be in a command position far from the front lines? You’re a countess, after all.”

“I am also one of the best on the ground commanders Ys has at her disposal. In the event of a war. I will be leading troops, but leading from the front rather than from the rear. But you need not worry about this or your lack of combat training. Today I will protect you. But still, training would be good, should you ever find yourself a baroness.”

“You’re the second person to mention that. There’s little danger of me leading the House. I’m fifth in line to be baron, or rather baroness. My cousin Carolynn, my father, and both my siblings are ahead of me in the line of succession. I’m ahead of my mother and my aunt because they married into the family. But otherwise I’m pretty low on the scale of importance. That’s why Carolynn has suitors and I don’t.”

“You may still find yourself married to a title lord or lady, and thus a target for kidnapping and ransom. And indeed, I wanted to speak with you about that as well. Carolynn is first in line for the Barony, which would be a noticeable increase in status for myself. She also has a reputation for being a good person. And so I decided to present myself as a suitor for her hand. But that ship seems to have sailed. Would you agree?”

“It definitely has, assuming our task here does what Lynn hopes it will.”

“You hope for failure?”

“I’m afraid for her safety if she marries Wulfric.”

“And yet you are helping her achieve her goal,” Fiona noted. “Why do so?”

“She asked me to do it. I wouldn’t have volunteered. But she asked me.”

“And this brings me back to my point,” Fiona said. “You are loyal. And that is an attractive trait. Lady Carolynn will likely marry Prince Wulfric. And if she does not, then I expect she will accept Leon’s inevitable proposal.”

“You noticed that too?” I asked.

“She kissed him. She did not kiss either of the two other suitors present. And so Vincent and I find ourselves without much purpose.”

“Yeah,” I agreed. “At least you didn’t have to cross the ocean to get rejected.”

“Indeed. But I do not plan to leave rejected, at least not if I can help it,” Fiona said.

“I’m sorry, I don’t follow.”

“I met another lady at the party. This one is a more equal match to myself. And I find her more attractive than Lady Carolynn on many levels. And bold. I like bold." She paused, and then added, "I also like blondes.”

“Oh,” I whispered, “You’re talking about me.”

“Indeed. I am terrible at being subtle. But I prefer directness in any case. You showed great bravery when you confronted Wulfric. And you showed great loyalty to Lady Carolynn even when she was not loyal to herself. You are beautiful. And looking at you makes my heart beat faster.”

I felt my face grow hot. I knew my skin had grown as red as her sash. How did compliments about a body I had received by chance still land like a falling anvil. I tried to speak, and managed a squeak instead.

“Are you alright?” Fiona asked.

“I’m fine,” I managed to squeak. Then I took a few slow breaths, “I’m not used to romance. I’m not good at it.”

“But you have quite the reputation as a man-eater and a heartbreaker. I do not understand.”

Of course, the rival. That was her reputation in the game. What to say? What to say? Fiona waited as I mulled things over. Finally I settled on an answer.

“I do have that reputation,” I started, “But those were men. I don’t like men. I have no romantic interest in them at all. So it doesn't hit the same. Also, flirting with a man is simple, they aren’t complicated creatures. And House Octavian expects me to produce an heir. And so I’ve played the role. I’ve done what they expect of me, and hated it the whole time.”

“You do not like men at all? That must have made things unpleasant. My preference is for ladies, but I enjoy the company of men. But we are drifting off topic. I wish to court you. Would you be agreeable to that?”

“You’re okay with the leftovers?” I asked.

“You are not leftovers. Lynn was the strategic choice. You are my choice of preference.”

Thoughts of Amy leaped to the front of my mind. She had said marrying Fiona would be wise. But I suspected she wasn’t happy at the prospect, especially so soon after we had begun our relationship. It was such a simple question, and yet I didn’t know how to answer. Amy had said that we could deal with how a courtship would affect our relationship when it happened. Well now it was happening. I had expected that nothing would happen until I said something. And yet here I was, being pursued. I had to admit that being pursued felt nice. Of course, it was only a courtship. I could still turn her down later. That was the point of a courtship.

I nodded.

“Countess Fiona, I would be honored to have you court me.”

“Thank you. Although that response took longer than I expected.”

I slumped a little, “Nothing related to me is simple. I hope you don’t mind unnecessary complications.”

“I will manage. Now we should complete this unpleasant task.”

I felt a mood-whiplash from her sudden shift in focus. But I nodded and we set out for the Hyperborean embassy. The Embassy was on the border of Octavo and Myrddhin City. The two cities had expanded over the centuries until they now touched. Octavo occupied the strategic high ground necessary for a castle. Myrddhin City occupied the coastline of the calmest bay on Ys. The Embassy was a massive Great House with a single open room. The wooden structure somehow looked ancient compared to the stone buildings around it. The building was three stories tall, despite there being no rooms beyond the great room. The upper two floors stood empty in concession to the steep angled roof, and its many flourishes. The craftsmen had carved animal figures into the roofing shingles. They had also carved knotwork on many of the logs used for walls. I had the sense of the embassy as an ancient being, waiting for its prey.  

As we approached the building, Fiona stopped and put her hand out to stop me. I stopped, but her hand brushed my breast and I shivered. Fiona drew her hand back.

"I am sorry. I should have asked this earlier. Do you have a mystic gift?"

I had forgotten about the mystic gifts. The mechanic felt tacked on in the game. It was only used for a handful of puzzles. But I did remember that the rival had a mystic gift. The rival had the mystic gift of precognition. The designers used her mystic gift to explain how she knew where the player would be. If I had the gift, I hadn't experienced it yet.

"I have the gift of Precognition," I said. "So don't hold out much hope of it being useful. Activating it on purpose is difficult."

"Understood. I too have a mystic gift. I can see auras."

"Then couldn't you see that I had a mystic gift?" I asked.

"No, I could only sense that you held the potential to have a gift."

"Is it always on?"

She shook her head, "No. but activating it simple. It feels similar to focusing one's eye by conscious effort."

"So your gift will be more useful inside than mine. Because unless I get a spontaneous vision, I won't be using my gift there at all."

"You have no combat training." Fiona said, and I winced. "You have no gift you can use in the upcoming confrontation. You have nothing to gain and much to lose from this confrontation. And yet, you walk into the wolf's den. And you do so without flinching."

"Oh, I'm flinching." I said, and tried to smile.

"You have everything to lose and nothing to gain from this. " Fiona continued, "You do this only because you hold yourself to a code of honor. You are magnificent."

I cringed at the praise, but blushed all the same, "I'm a hot mess, you mean. But I'm flattered by your compliments."

"They are not compliments. They are observations. Now, let us get inside."

We approached the gate. Two guards in serpent scale armor guarded the entrance. They had the Pillar Tree of Hyperborea embossed on the guards of their sabers. They wore fur lined cloaks on their shoulders and spangenhelms on their heads. As we approached, their smell struck me. They radiated the smell of rancid oil.

The guards stopped us with crossed spears blocking the door. "State your business with Hyperborea."

"I am Lady Karen Octavian. And I am here to deliver a message to his royal highness Prince Wulfric from the Lady Carolynn Octavian."

"The Prince is not here," The guard said.

"We know," I said, "Nobody will admit to knowing where he is. But we trust that the ambassador will be able to deliver the message."

The guard was silent. I looked at the other guard standing without a word. Finally the first guard spoke again.

"Wait here. I will return."

Five minutes later the guard was back. He saluted us. "Ladies, follow me please."

We entered the great house, and the smell of unwashed men hit like rotten vegetables flung in my face. The interior was hot. The temperature had risen as too many people engaged in raucous drinking and games in the great room. I opened my mantle to ease the effect of the heat. The guard power walked us to a mouse of a man with prominent teeth who sat in a chair near the front door. He dressed in the garb of a servant. So I assumed that he was a doorman. He nodded to us.

“Weapons please ladies.” He pointed at a weapons rack behind him.

I shrugged, “I’m unarmed.”

The doorman shook his head, “My request includes your bodice dagger, Lady.”

I shook my head, and grasped the neckline of my blouse and pulled forward, “I have no bodice dagger. I have no derringer. I have nothing. I couldn’t use it anyway. Would you like to check?”

I glared at him. The mouse man shrank back in his chair.

Fiona stepped forward, “She does not need a weapon. I am here.”

She reached into her jacket, and rustled about for a moment. Then she produced a cavalry saber. The door man nodded. Fiona reached back into her jacket. After a moment she produced a rondel dagger, a skinning knife, and a stiletto. The doorman raised his eyebrows, but took the blades. Fiona reached back into her jacket and this continued. Fiona produced a bandoleer of six throwing daggers. Then she produced two flintlock pistols and one pepperbox derringer pistol. Next she handed over a pair of brass knuckles. Then she surrendered an iron wrapped garrote wire. By the end, the doorman looked terrified. He cringed when Fiona handed him something. And he flinched when she reached back into her jacket.  

She handed him the garrote wire, and announced, “That is all.”

The doorman sighed, “Wonderful, now go on in.”

I noticed that Fiona still wore her sash clasp. I said nothing.

We walked through the open hall towards a throne at the back. Tables and chairs sat without pattern or reason in the open space of the hall. People sat on benches together. Most of them were eating. All of them carried weapons. If this turned ugly, they outnumbered us ten to one or worse. 

A lean man with long black hair and hungry eyes watched us from the throne. He wore a gray frock coat with a gray waistcoat. Beside the throne, a woman in servant’s attire knelt with her arms spread. Her shirt lay unlaced, her back exposed. I saw crisscrossing wounds on the exposed back. Somebody had tied her arms to a pair of posts anchored in the dirt, and the ropes trapped her in position. A heavy set man with a shaved head wearing leather armor struck the woman across the back with a leather cat of nine tails. The woman gasped, but did not cry out. I had a sense that the punishment would have been worse if she had, and that she knew this. The man on the throne did not look at the servant girl. 

The guard stopped us five feet from the throne.

"His grace, Duke Olaf Sigurdson- ambassador to The Kingdom of Ys. Your grace, I present Lady Karen Octavian and her attendant."

I curtsied and Fiona gave an awkward bow. Duke Sigurdson lounged on the throne. He looked at us like he was sizing us up for the stew pot.

"I am told that you have a message for my Prince. And that you wish to give it to me."

"Yes, your grace. To be precise, I have two messages for his royal highness. I have one message from Lady Carolynn Octavian. And I have one message from myself."

He sighed, "Very well, deliver your messages."

I nodded, "From my cousin: Lady Carolynn Octavian. She says that she accepts his royal highness's offer of marriage. And she will be his wife if he will still have her."

Duke Sigurdson raised his eyebrows, then nodded.

"From myself. I apologize for my behavior at the recent party and I beg forgiveness from his royal highness. I am sorry for the insult I caused him and wish to resolve any harsh feelings that exist between us. These are my messages. I am finished."

"Are you?" Duke Sigurdson said with a smile that curled his lip to a sneer. "Very well. I will attempt to have this message delivered. If there is nothing else, you are dismissed."

As we walked back to the front, I heard the duke speak to the man with the shaved head. 

“Has she learned her lesson yet?”

“Not sure Your Grace, but any more and she’ll pass out.”

“We don’t want that. Then she can’t appreciate her punishment. Let her rest then. You may continue once you are certain she can withstand more punishment. Next time she will not drop my serving bowl.”

I ground my teeth, but kept walking. There was nothing I could do in this situation. 

The doorman piled Fiona’s weapons into her arms and we left with her carrying them. Outside, Fiona wrapped the bandoleer around the other items and slung them under her left arm.

I looked at Fiona, "Did that feel as though it went too smoothly to you?"

"It did," Fiona answered, “I suspect the other shoe has yet to drop.”

- - -

By DD Ward and Margaret Lovelace

ddwardiswriting.blogspot.com

[ddwardiswriting]

Chapter 9: The Next Day

“Lady Ren. It is time to wake up.”

My eyes felt raw, and my throat was hoarse from crying. I risked opening my eyes and saw Amy closing the door behind her. She slid a cut red rose into a vase on my vanity. I smiled at that. I loved roses. 

I struggled off the bed. Remembering yesterday, I realized that I was giving Amy quite the show. And it involved my panties and a sheer nightgown. I blushed. And when I met her gaze, she blushed as well.

Amy spoke again in a softer tone; “Ren, dear, did you sleep well? I know yesterday was rough.”

“Dear?” I asked

Amy shrugged, “I wanted to add something romantic. I was going to say dearest, but that felt a little much and a little premature.”

I put a hand to my cheek, “Yeah. It might be a little soon for that.”

I escaped the massive bed and took a moment to fix my panties.I assumed that male game designers chose panties for sex appeal rather than comfort. I shook my head. Although not a full thong, the panties I wore exposed much of my behind.

“Why did I wear these?” I asked the room.

“For my benefit?” Amy said with a smile. I looked at her with a start.

Amy blushed, and then stepped forward pressing herself against me. My breathing quickened. And she reached down and took a cheek in each hand. She leaned in and gave me a long deep kiss. One of us moaned. This time it was my legs that weakened. Amy tried to catch me, as I had done for her yesterday. But my new body was six feet tall. And Amy was five foot five. She struggled for a moment, and then I saw her smile. She put her hands on my shoulders and pushed me back on the bed. I landed on my back with arms spread. I slipped and my legs splayed outward. Amy stepped between my legs and leaned forward. We pressed together, bodies touching from hips to bosom. She bent her head down and breathed on my neck.

I cried out, and then smacked my hands over my mouth.

Amy moved her head and kissed and licked my exposed and naked shoulder. I shuddered and this time I knew that I was the one moaning. I couldn’t stop myself. My breathing came ragged and heavy. Amy kissed from my shoulder down along my collarbone towards my breasts. I wanted to tear the nightgown from my body to give her what she wanted.

I couldn’t think.

Amy pulled the puffy shoulder straps of my nightgown away from my body. She began to ease the nightgown down my body. She had reached my breastbone, and was about to expose me, when a knock came at the door.

Amy grimaced. She nodded to me and walked to the door. I pulled myself up and straightened my nightgown, still flushed and aroused. I struggled to control my breathing and failed. I could still feel her breath on my neck.

Amy opened the door a crack, “My lady isn’t decent yet. What is it?’

“Something is up,” a voice said, “Your lady is in trouble. I thought you should know.”

Amy nodded, “Do you know what or why?”

“No, that’s the whisper from Mildred. She’s been cackling about it all morning.”

“Thank you, Helen,” Amy said, "I will tell my lady.”

Amy closed the door and turned back to me.

“Your mother’s personal maid says that you are in trouble.”

I turned back and began making my bed. “Remember yesterday?” The sheets weren’t fitted, and I wasn’t sure how to put them back together. I stared at the exploded corner in confusion.

“Wait, Ren. No, that’s my job.” Amy said, stepping in front of me. “We don’t use the same sheets two days in a row. I strip the sheets and send them down to the laundry.”

I winced, “I had no idea.”

“How would you? We live in completely different worlds.”

“But it’s my room. I should have noticed.” I said.

“Ren,” Amy said, her voice softening, “Your parents raised you like this. Servants have always been in the background of your life. Why would you notice them, unless something had gone wrong?”

But that was the problem. Lady Karen had grown up like Amy said, but Ren Watkins hadn’t. I had been making my own bed and doing laundry my whole life. I felt awful.

“When did you decide to make your own bed?” Amy asked.

“Yesterday, after we- you know. You had to make the bed a second time because of us. And I realized the power imbalance in our relationship. And I wanted to do something about it.”

I looked at the floor.

Amy put an arm around my waist, “I’m a maid. This is what I do. I’m employed by your uncle, not you.”

“I’m still a member of the family. I’m the one you interact with all day. And let’s be honest, they weren’t friendly interactions.”

Amy squeezed, “Not before, but recently things have been improving.”

I sighed, and then smiled, “Okay, there is that. But I still don’t like the power imbalance.”

Amy sighed, “Well until you’re head of House Octavian, you can’t induct me into the nobility.”

“I’m never going to be head of House Octavian. Carolynn is the eldest child of the Baron. She’ll inherit next. If something happens to her, my father will inherit. Then my older sister Catherine. Then my older sister Katarina.”

Amy nodded. “Then unless you plan to disinherit yourself, we’re stuck. We will be dealing with that imbalance for the immediate future.”

I needed to do something for her then. I couldn’t correct the imbalance. But I could make some gesture. She wouldn’t let me make the bed, but I could spend time and effort on her behalf in some other way. What did I know how to do that Lady Karen might know how to do? Something where I would have access to the materials. I saw a basket with what looked like sewing supplies. It sat in a corner against a wardrobe. I walked over and examined it. The basket contained fabric and string. It was full of half-finished embroidery pieces. It also had more than enough equipment to continue embroidering. I could embroider. I wasn’t a master at it. But I could embroider. I looked back at Amy. She was watching me. I noticed a small silver pin on her lapel in the shape of an English Ivy leaf. I could work with that. A little gesture, a little gift from a lover. 

Somebody knocked on my bedroom door. A moment later I heard Manfred’s voice, “Lady Ka- Lady Ren? Are you awake? You have slept late and your father has demanded your presence.

“Oh crap. There it is.” I said. And then louder, I answered, “Thank you Manfred. I am awake and will be down once I’ve dressed. Where did father want to meet me?

“Very good lady, I will tell your father. When ready, you may meet him in the drawing room.”

I knew my father would chew me out. Both Giles and Jean Octavian were angry violent men. But that didn’t matter. I just needed to get through the lecture and whatever else and then deliver the apology. I hated the idea of apologizing. I hated the idea of delivering Lynn’s acceptance of Wulfic’s proposal even more. But I needed Lynn to trust me. In order to marry anyone else, the heroine had to kill Prince Wulfric. I didn’t think I could convince Lynn to do that unless I had her full trust again. So I would apologize. And I would endure a lecture and dressing down from my new father. I just needed to keep my eyes on the prize. 

Amy helped me dress in a kelly green pleated maxi skirt. It was late autumn. So I also wore a yellow silk and wool dolman mantle. And under that I wore a pumpkin orange scoop necked, lantern sleeve blouse. I would be walking to the Hyperborean embassy, so I selected a black pair of Pinet Heeled Victorian boots. I added a gold rose shaped locket. Inside the locket was a lock of hair. I didn’t know the story behind that ring. It wasn't relevant in the game. Once I had dressed, I walked to the drawing room.

I knocked on the door and then entered the room and stopped short. My father was not alone. There were four people in the room. Lord Jean Octavian, my father. Lady Evelyn Octavian, my mother, sat beside him. My uncle, Baron Giles Octavian stood behind my mother and father. Seated beside my mother was my aunt, Lady Theresa Octavian. I marveled at the ease with which I was thinking of these people as my family. My family from my past life was long gone. But I couldn’t think of Jean Octavian as an upgrade despite this.

My real dad used to hit my mom. She’d use foundation and concealer to hide bruises rather than blemishes. And I’d killed her. Not myself, no dagger in the back. But I’d caused her death, caused it because I had been selfish. So I’d decided that was never happening again. Dad was gone. Mom was dead. 

But I still had Lynn, and I was going to stand by her even if it destroyed me. 

My father and uncle were both dressed in black tailcoats and black waistcoats. My aunt Theresa had dressed in an orange polonaise with a bustle. My mother wore a gray A-Line dress and a white mantle.

The designers had the drawing room walls decorated with period accurate wallpaper. The historical accuracy almost startled me. The background was cream. On that the artist had drawn a briar rose pattern in artichoke green and old rose pink.

I closed the door behind me and walked to stand in front of them. I wasn't looking forward to this. The rival's father doesn't show up in the game very often, but he was as nasty as his daughter.

“I am here father,” I said, “You sent for me?”

My father frowned at me. Then he slapped his leg and stood up. "Is it true? Did you assault the crown prince of Hyperborea? I must say, I thought I raised a more intelligent daughter. When did you become so incompetent? You struck the crown prince of a rival nation? And now his marriage to Carolynn hangs by a thread."

He stepped away from his chair and began walking in a circle around me. I maintained eye contact with Aunt Theresa. 

"I screwed up this one by letting my emotions get away from me,” I answered. “But what do you mean by her marriage to Prince Wulfric? There was no guarantee she would pick the prince."

Father smacked the back of my head, as he continued to circle. My head jolted forward. I winced, but stopped myself from crying out. That had hurt. I didn’t rub the back of my head though. No point in giving him the satisfaction of seeing that his blow had affected me.  

"There was no other option.” my father said, “What child of a baron would refuse the hand of a crown prince? He is the only option."

Giles nodded and said, "We had to be sure to include other suitors for the sake of decorum. But of course my daughter was always going to pick Prince Wulfric."

Aunt Theresa shook her head, "You may think it is a settled issue. But Evelyn and I do not agree. Wulfric is dangerous as a husband and an unacceptable risk for our daughter. We need somebody more reliable, and somebody who can make her happy."

My mother nodded, "Countess Myrddhin, for example, would be an excellent choice. She is a competent administrator and a skilled monster hunter." 

Theresa shook her head, "The Countess Fiona would be an acceptable choice. But Duke Leon is a much better conversationalist and masterful naval commander. The Countess administers her county and our largest port. But Duke Leon administrates the very duchy where we live. Finally, the Countess Fiona is straight, and you are asking her to marry another woman."

I smiled at the description of Leon as a conversationalist. I remembered how he stumbled over his words when trying to talk with Lynn. That said, it was charming in an endearing and awkward way.

Evelyn shrugged, "What does her being straight matter? That's what pretty young lords are for after all."

Jean frowned, "Nonetheless, Carolynn will marry Prince Wulfric."

I coughed, and the four looked back at me, “I’m sorry everyone. I know I’ve caused problems by acting without restraint. Please accept my deepest apologies.”

I waited for a response. None of them spoke. Instead they were all staring at me. Mother’s mouth was hanging open. I huffed in frustration. More disbelief about the changes in Lady Karen’s behavior.

“Karen dear,” Aunt Theresa said, “Thank you. I am glad you appreciate the severity of the situation. And I accept your apology.”

She paused, and then reached out and tapped my father’s shin as he passed her. Then she added, “I am sure your father accepts your apology as well.”

Father looked away. He clenched his fists, and I watched the knuckles turn white. And then he nodded and unclenched his hands. He turned back to face me.

“This apology, though unexpected, is acceptable. But I expect much better behavior in the future.”

I smiled. Father might out rank Aunt Theresa, but she was the lady of the castle. “May I be excused? Lynn has asked me to deliver an apology to the Hyperborean embassy. She's also asked me to deliver her acceptance of his proposal.”

My uncle smiled a toothy grin, “Excellent. Best get moving then. We need to repair your mess. And you doing the work is the least you can do.”

I curtsied, and turned to leave. One confrontation down, now for the big one.

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