Tales of the Many-Tailed - 6 - A little knowledge. (Patreon)

Sunlight from the window spilled over them as Jasmine’s emerald gaze locked onto hers. Edith raised her hands, deliberately drawing attention to the fox ears twitching in her auburn locks. “I come in peace. Don’t shoot to kill.”

Still inhaling, Jasmine let out a guffaw. “What!”

“I thought something quirky might relax the situation. I’m a bit of a trek fan, and it seemed like a good fit.” Edith slung a dress from the discard pile over her shoulder, partly obscuring her nudity.

Jasmine put a hand to her chest. “You scared the living daylights out of me. I’ll need to put my heart back in my chest. I thought a pervert had broken in.”

“Sorry, and sorry about the lack of clothing. I’m not a pervert; I arrived in fox shape, and in human form I have zip. I’m Edith, by the way.”

“Jasmine. There was no fox in the circle,” Jasmine objected; her gaze leapt about as she tried to count Edith’s tails.

“I hid immediately. Actually, pretty sure that the entity that sent me along might have triggered it. After Miss Soprano blurted out that we weren’t all heroes, remaining in hiding seemed sensible.”

“Oh yeah. Chloe tried to be the spokesperson until Akenesi shut her down. For a nice Samoan lady, Akenesi doesn’t tolerate nonsense. She’s got the actual hero class.” Jasmine blushed. The colour highlighted her high cheekbones and sharp nose, with a slight lift at the tip, facial features that Edith’s eyes had blurred out while in feline form. “I’m rambling. Can you put some clothes on?”

“Mind if I help myself to your discards?” Edith reached for the pile on the bench.

“If any of them will fit you. You are on the short side.” Jasmine said.

“Thanks,” Edith drawled, then laughed when Jasmine rose. The tops of her ears might have reached the other woman’s shoulder. “Yeah, okay, you have a point. I might have to check the baskets; is that alright?”

“Of course.”

Though Edith’s tails swayed gently, a glance in the mirror showed the fluffy mass behind her blurring about, making them impossible to count.

“How do you find having a tail?” Edith asked.

“Weird, I can’t lie flat. I have to sleep on my side or cocked.”

The discarded garments were long enough to pool beyond Edith’s feet, so she dropped them back on the bench and searched on. Finally, at the bottom of the first wicker basket, a dress that made her squee happily. Another white, backless halter dress, similar to the one Sue had rejected for Jasmine, though this one had swirling red leaves at the hem. Yet it was delightfully scandalous, with a plunging, sharp V-neckline that reached her navel, and even tied high, the cut-out at the back showed the top of her butt. Most importantly, it left room for her tails to sit unobstructed.

No undergarments in the basket, but wouldn’t have wanted second-hand knickers. Not that this dress would hide any lines.

A tug of the sash settled it into place and pinned the front, but it nearly reached her ankles. Edith twisted from side to side, critically studying the shift of fabric and the exposure of cleavage and side boob. The lack of stretch marks, sunspots, and the firmness everywhere she looked jabbed her with a deep, alien sense of the flesh she now inhabited. All the marks of her passage through life, her children just gone. 

Just like I’m gone from their lives and never to see any of them again. Enough. I can’t change it.

Her hands twitched at the dress, testing its fit; without the gnawing arthritis of her old body, she could focus on the fabric and stitching under her fingertips.

Well, if I were as busty as I used to be, I’d have to worry about bouncing out.

“The lady this came from must have been confident in her body,” Edith quipped, letting the urge to cry wash past her. “Supersize medieval castle, yet certainly not medieval attire. Sorry again for disturbing your nap. I really needed clothing. Did I make too much noise?”

“Your scent is filling my nostrils,” Jasmine said, putting a hand to her chest. “That’s what woke me.”

“I don’t stink.” Edith playfully pouted and felt her longer eyeteeth press against her lips.

“Isn’t that for me to judge? Though you’re right. Your scent is an electric warmth that rolls around in my lungs. What type of beast-kin are you?”

The curtains fluttered in a gust of breeze. Along with the smell of cooked meat came a woman’s stern voice, giving instructions for placing tables and serving trays in the courtyard.

“Can you speak more softly? We don’t know who might overhear. Not a whisper, as that draws attention, just low.”

Jasmine cleared her throat and lowered her voice to a soft conversational level. “It doesn’t change my question.”

“Kitsune. That is the name of my species.”

“Is that a name for a fox beast-kin?” Jasmine frowned.

“Not a beast-kin; my species is Kitsune. Didn’t you see it on the list of species the angel showed you?”

“Aside from humans, the only ones I recognised were beast-kin and elves. The angel was pretty pushy about me picking something when I asked questions, so I didn’t go through the full list.”

They cared more about their damn schedule than us.

Edith nodded. “What did you know about rabbit beast-kin before you picked rabbit?”

“Nothing. A girl in my homeroom has an anime picture of a girl with rabbit ears carrying a massive hammer. I always liked that picture; the rabbit girl wasn’t wearing much, but she looked beautiful and confident.”

“When did you leave school?”

“I haven’t really, but I’m eighteen,” Jasmine said, hunching her shoulders. “I’d only been in the city for a university open day. Touring a campus for a day didn’t prepare me for a new world. Why did you ask what I knew?”

“Rabbit-girl being a sexed-up bimbo is a common trope in some types of stories,” Edith said. “In others, any beast-kin are automatic second-class citizens. It’s a representation of the human tendency to point ‌fingers at differences and proclaim those people must be lesser.”

“Great.” Jasmine waved at herself. “Parental protectiveness cost me. I picked a species that people here consider sluts, and if I had known it was a trope in stories. Well, I would have thought to ask if it were the case here.”

“Have you met any other rabbit-kin?” Edith asked, feigning ignorance.

“No.”

“Then consider it propaganda for now. I heard a few things. At least one church here doesn’t like races with any animal traits. It might be their followers degrading beast-kin.”

“Why would they do that?”

“I’m an advocate for critical thinking, and it requires assessing both sides of a situation from multiple sources. We’ve only been here a short time, so we can’t know the full story. Yet what I have heard isn’t comforting.”

Jasmine spluttered. “The king’s courtiers didn’t warn any of us about any dislike. What did they say?”

“Well, a guard was mouthing off to his buddy, who didn’t seem to feel exactly the same way, but wasn’t a screaming fan. Yet I don’t know how widespread the sentiment is,” Edith explained.

Jasmine sighed. “Stop protecting me. My parents claimed that they wanted to protect me by controlling what I read and who my friends were. From what you said, they just kept me ignorant, and that worked out so well. Please tell me what the guard said.”

I deserve that kick in the tail; I told her what critical thinking requires, then tried to keep information from her.

Decades of dealing with library patrons kept Edith’s polite smile in place as she chewed herself out. “Abide not those born with any sign of beasts. One guard quoted that to another and called the dragon-kin and the rabbit-girl freaks. The second told him to keep the holy talk to himself and that he’d forgotten to rant about righteous fire purifying all.”

“Oh shit. That doesn’t sound good. Here I am spending all my time learning how to grow plants. I need some way to protect myself.” Jasmine shifted her weight, eyes darting between windows and the door. “How did you hide?”

Does she have issues with rabbit instincts?

“I don’t know enough about abilities here. I’d rather not talk about what I did, as I don’t know what powers they have. Someone could be listening now, or maybe their power lets them read the room’s history from the stone.”

“Runes, not powers, but I guess it’s the same point. Okay, miss, I play my cards close to your chest; keep your secret. I’ll be careful of any religious folk.”

“Truth. You don’t win at poker by showing your hand before you need to,” Edith replied. “I prefer it when everyone folds, and I don’t have to show them at all.”

“Why is that?”

“Then they don’t have to know if I was bluffing or not, so they have nothing to help them learn my tells.” Edith laughed softly. “I need to see if there is a hidden library in this castle. There are bound to be records that aren’t public.”

“Are you going to help them with the war?”

“We effectively know nothing about either side, except the people here were happy for us to die if it meant yanking heroes to come help them.” Edith shrugged helplessly. “So I’m taking care of a few things and learning more first. You know how Earl Banesbridge justified summoning us with the claim that most people don’t get combat classes?”

“Yes, and that summoned people have stronger ones than those who get combat classes. Not everyone even gets other classes.”

“Really? Because I learnt the king can provide specific types of classes, but only does so for people who swear to him on an enchanted circle,” Edith said.

“Why would he not help his people?” Jasmine protested.

“You need to see beyond the fancy crests and outfits. Keeping power in the hands of a limited elite is how dictatorships retain control. A monarch is a dictator with a crown, who gives out noble titles instead of military ranks.”

“But we got summoned with the hero.”

“A hero according to whom? I’m not saying they’re evil; we don’t know enough. Yet a hero for a murderous regime differs greatly from someone fighting for justice alone.”

“That can’t be,” Jasmine protested. “We died to get here. It can’t be for nothing.”

Footsteps sounded in the stairwell, and Edith lowered her voice slightly. “Trust but verify is best. Those with power like to keep it. The king’s ancestor set wards to kill anyone outside the royal bloodline who tries to access the device that bestows classes directly. That’s how important control of the device is to them.”

“How do you know this?”

“I overheard it while hiding. You objected to your parents being overly protective. Now you have some uncomfortable facts. Are you going to find more or bury your head in the sand?”

The jab straightened Jasmine, even as footsteps reached their level. As the person approached, Jasmine’s ears jerked upright, and Edith vanished into the shadow beneath the desk. Though the steps sounded familiar, she kept her attention fixed on the door.

The door opened slowly, revealing Sue carrying a pitcher of gently steaming water and a basin. Without the feline eyes, more details showed. The maid had a rounded face, firm chin, solid cheekbones, and a wide, sensual mouth. Lines of worry creased her eyes, though she was maybe in her late teens.

A face with character; I wonder how she got the maid position. Unconventionally pretty by modern-day Western standards, more like a dark Mae West.

She started to drop the items when Jasmine hopped forward, hands outstretched to help.

“Please, I can manage. With the efforts of the morning, I thought you might like to wash your face after your nap, Lady Jasmine.”

Though Jasmine left her with the pitcher, she claimed the basin from Sue and moved towards the vanity.

“Before I wash, if I quote you something, could you tell me where it’s from?” Jasmine asked, shifting the basin between her hands.

Does this girl like jumping into fires?

“I’m not very learned, Lady Jasmine.”

“I want to know if it’s a common line,” Jasmine clarified. “Abide not those born with any sign of beasts.”

I hope you’ve got a story to cover hearing that, and it doesn’t involve me.

Sue blanched and stepped back toward the door. “Where did you hear that?”

“I’ve got sharp ears. Would it surprise you if a guard called Malcom and me freaks? Sorry, he is the dragon-kin; I didn’t introduce you to him last night.” Jasmine hopped beside the vanity and set the basin down safely.

“Freak? That sounds like a zealot of the crone. I can’t believe they’d allow a zealot to remain a guard.”

Jasmine groaned, rubbing at a wilted ear that hung across her face. “Would you tell me about them?”

“Her zealots twist snippets of the scriptures of light that suit their perspective. That is part of a warning about the more violent demon races. Instead, to the zealots, anyone not of what they deem a human enough race is to be burned.”

“Is the crone one of your gods of light?”

“Yes. The crone, the father, the matron, and the son. The trickster makes their number five and balanced.”

“How?”

“The trickster is male and female, yet neither. Like the Kitsune that serve as their messengers, they can be any species.”

“Kitsune!” Jasmine blurted, her gaze jumping to the wicker basket Edith had searched.

Oh great!

“Yes. Do you know about them?”

“It seems not enough.” Ears up, Jasmine paced the room and waved Sue toward the vanity. The maid swiftly set the pitcher on the edge and retreated to the door.

“Where can I find a priest of the trickster? Do they have a church or shrine near the castle?” Jasmine halted and turned back to Sue in a blur.

Did the Kitsune connection get Jasmine focused on the trickster?

“Their followers don’t have a set church for services as such, or separate teachings; not really. My aunt says they only believe two things. That change is constant, and the scriptures, while well-meaning, are only a mortal’s flawed understanding of the divine.”

“There must be somewhere they pray? I want to hear what one of them has to say.”

“The priests establish shrines for the faithful to pray, but they don’t hold services or preach at them. The faithful know how to leave messages if they need a priest. No one else sees them, except if they’re at a gathering the faithful call.”

“Then can your aunt put me in touch with them? Do I slip out of the castle to meet her?”

Sue blushed bright red. “Why? I told you she runs a brothel.”

“You also told me not to judge. I need information. If the guards have zealots among them, who else in the palace is a zealot?” Jasmine asked, her tone low but firm. “Who can I trust? I don’t want to allow someone else to decide what is best for me.”

For an apparently sheltered girl, she’s going full steam ahead. Maybe too much on the throttle and no attention to safety.

“I’ll try to get in touch with her and see what she suggests,” Sue said. “As a rabbit-kin, you can’t go there. If word got out, it would ruin us both. I’ll send a letter to my mother and say you want to learn about the trickster. She’ll know who to speak to, and my aunt might give us the name of someone else.”

Jasmine folded her arms, and her lips pressed tight. “How long will that take?”

“A few days at least. A letter might not even reach her before then, and she’ll have to visit my aunt.”

“Let’s go to the library.” Jasmine strode to the desk and snatched up the stack of books. “I’ve finished these books, and I want to see these scriptures for myself.”

“Perhaps wash your face first?”

The library would be useful, especially if it has books about runes.

Their preparations went beyond a wash, with Sue fussing and dressing Jasmine in a fresh outfit suitable for the library. Her insistence on wide trousers spoke to both practicality and precaution. Memories of visits to old European libraries, where ladders or rolling stairs were required to reach the top shelf, swam happily through Edith’s mind. As Jasmine headed out, her shadow stretched under the desk, and Edith willingly paid the fatigue to cross to it.

“I was going to meet Aidan at lunch in the courtyard. How long did I nap?” Jasmine asked as they reached ground level.

“Not as long as I expected, Lady Jasmine; lunch is still two hours off by the courtyard sunstone. Are you sure you won’t let me carry those books, Lady Jasmine?”

Though she shifted the three hefty tomes in her arms, Jasmine nodded sharply. “I can manage, Sue. You lead the way; I’ll get lost.”

From within Jasmine’s shadow, Edith struggled to follow Sue's twists and turns through the castle’s narrower back corridors. After ten minutes, they emerged into another wide marble corridor with polished dark wood, its centre panel carved with an open book and a quill lying along its bottom. The pair bustled inside and, even with her limited view, Edith almost yipped for joy at what lay within.

The library was a large, airy, multi-part chamber with the ground-floor bookshelves stretching to triple Jasmine’s height. The furnishings were in a single intricately carved style of warm, polished oak. A mezzanine level ran around the room’s entire perimeter and featured fretwork along its entire length. A repeating pattern across the lacquered oak strongly resembled five disembodied fox tails joined at a central point. The gaps in the wood carving hinted at somewhat smaller shelves housed on that level. Still tall enough that Jasmine would need an aid to reach the upper shelves. A half dozen long benches with padded armchairs tucked beneath them ran down the centre of the space. Aside from the central tables, a few reading desks sat at the ends of freestanding bookshelves, blending in among displays that ended other rows.

Above each group of bookshelves, a sign indicated the topic, from common, mundane categories such as geography and history to esoteric ones like runes and mana lore. The text resembled swirling Arabic rather than the sharp lines of the modified Katakana that made up the runes. Whether it was an effect of the summoning or something else, Edith understood it as fluently as any language she'd learnt in life.

The clack of Jasmine’s and Edith’s heels echoed off the polished, creamy marble floor.

“I assumed someone would be here,” Jasmine whispered.

“I think there is a large volume sitting out at the back,” Sue said, pointing toward a spot out of Edith’s view.

“A visitor might have left it out.”

“They’d best pray that Count Runecroft doesn’t find out who. That’s one way to get yourself banned from the library.”

“He seemed so nice,” Jasmine protested softly.

Sue shuddered. “Do not get on the wrong side of him.”

“A sensible warning. Can I help you, Baroness Jasmine?” a rich male tenor asked from the direction Sue had pointed.

The ladies ventured along the line of benches.

“Good morning, Count Runecroft,” Jasmine said as they drew close.

The man stepped forward to greet Jasmine with a double handshake, a long blond braid trailing behind him. His dark blue gaze weighed on Jasmine. 

“It is morning. Good is subjective. We all share the same morning. Is it good for someone dying in a hunting accident as we speak or a mother with a long-ill child?”

“It’s a greeting on our world. I think it originated from hoping the morning had been good to the person you addressed.” Jasmine stammered.

“A kind sentiment, but I prefer facts. What is it I can help you with this morning?”

Jasmine set the stack of books on the nearby bench and smiled hesitantly. “I’ve finished these books. Should I put them back where I found them?”

“Unnecessary.” The count flicked a finger, and the stack wafted into the air. The books separated as they sailed along and tucked themselves into place on different shelves beneath the class lore sign. “If I’m not around, leave the returns in the box behind the counter.”

“What rune is that?” Jasmine breathed.

“One shared only among a few scholarly classes, but it only works if you know the layout of the library.”

“Is it rude to ask what class someone has?”

“It depends on the conversation and the purpose. Some people use their more prestigious classes to put others in their place,” Count Runecroft replied.

Jasmine put a hand to her chest theatrically. “I’m a high druid, darling; what could a plebeian gatherer offer me?”

The corner of the Count’s mouth twitched. “A direct put-down. Yet asking someone their class when you expect to one-up them is a subtler knife twist, though potentially risky; sycophants mitigate trouble by immediately fawning if they receive a dangerous answer.”

“Even classes are more complicated than I expected,” Jasmine said.

“Comparing classes is a common sign of insecurity in someone who has only their class to prove their value. Was your question a probing hint to reveal mine?”

“I am curious but only because the whole idea of classes is so new to me. I really don’t know where to start,” Jasmine confessed.

“Then you made sensible requests for texts last time we spoke. Yet if you had been clearer in your needs, I would have recommended another volume prior to the ones I provided.” He stepped to a nearby shelf, drew a thin book from the bottom row, and presented it to Jasmine, resting in his cupped hands. “A glossary of common terms related to classes, their original forms, and meaning.”

She took it from him with both hands and beamed. “Thank you so much. Could you point me to some texts on the scriptures of light?”

“An interesting enquiry.” He motioned toward a philosophy sign and walked ahead. “You’re the only arrival who has asked about our gods. Though Baroness Samantha spent some time trying to explain her beliefs.”

“She seems very fundamentalist,” Jasmine said. “I thought steam was going to come out of her ears when she learnt people here deemed our summoning‌ a response to a prayer to your gods.”

“Might I ask why that upsets her?” Runecroft asked.

Jasmine rubbed the back of her neck. “We have a religious text that has ten divine commandments. One of them says don’t worship other gods before him. It was written long ago, and many people on our world take it to mean there is only one god. I see other options, but my view isn’t common.”

“Given there are multiple recognised gods here, and none of them is hers, it must be upsetting.”

“For Samantha, not me. Are there other gods besides the gods of light?”

“I won’t name them, but there are the dark couple and the chaos gods. Did you want the scriptures themselves or a text on the core elements?” Runecroft paused with his hand on a shelf.

“What would you recommend for an outsider?”

“That is an interesting question, since most groups would have some knowledge.” Runecroft tapped his chin with his thumb. “Perhaps the annotated version for instruction of children. It has some commentary to provide enquiring minds with examples.”

“That would save the teacher having to come up with something on the spot. I hate public speaking; my mind always goes blank.”

He retrieved a slim volume the size of a romance paperback, though it had a hard cover.

Jasmine eyed the volume. “That’s the annotated version?”

He lifted a booklet from the shelf beneath; it was a fraction as thick. “Our gods expect people to follow the spirit, not the letter of their teachings, so their scriptures aren’t lengthy.”

“But there must be a thousand books under the philosophy section alone!”

Runecroft smiled. “We know of other worlds, and bring heroes here to drive back the darkness. That alone has been explored in many lengthy theses over the centuries Easthaven has existed, let alone the preceding nations, and the millennia of the elven and dwarven cultures.”

“Lots of existential questions raised and written of?”

“Yes.”

“Thank you for these, Count Runecroft. I’ll bring them back this afternoon.”

“You read the others in such a short time. Are you sure you didn’t wish to take more books?”

“Religious texts might give me a bit to think about, even for their small page count,” Jasmine replied.

“Then, Lady Jasmine, it was a pleasure. Let me see you out,” Runecroft said, walking beside Jasmine, hand on her elbow.

As he escorted them away, Edith slipped from Jasmine’s shadow into an armchair's shadow. Another punch of fatigue hit, but it was lighter than on her first day. She waited until the footsteps had faded before emerging.

I need a new disguise, but not one that matches the scent.

Edith stepped before a display cabinet. Taking in her reflection, Edith pictured Sue’s appearance, then tweaked it slightly, aiming for light auburn locks, sapphire eyes, and a rounder chin. Pale skin, nearly matching the white silk of the dress. With a push, she sent it into the rune, and a mere brush of lightning prickled along her skin. The reflection in the glass matched what she’d pictured, and Edith brushed a thumb across her lips. Her memory refused to provide the last time she’d kissed someone. Yet wondering set a warm hum of desire deep in her vagina.

I’ve not felt this frisky in decades. Oh, the flush of youth. Young again, and years ahead of me, it seems my old libido is emerging.

Returning to the section on classes, Edith trailed her fingertips along the volumes at shoulder height. None of the books had titles on their spines, so she lifted a thick text down from the shelf and set it on a nearby reading table. It felt bound in a thin, supple leather over a wooden panel, and its first page had a straightforward title: A record of classes and a summary of their known runes. Volume 1.

The next pages listed class names alongside page and volume numbers. Among entries for a variety of mundane historical professions appeared variants of bards, sages, druids, knights, wizards and many fantasy-themed ones. Variants of mundane and fantasy professions carried honorifics like high, grand, and exalted, while others, such as venomous, grave, and dread, set a more ominous tone. Along with those, there were also entries for an extensive collection of oddly named ones whose natures she couldn’t even guess.

Do I want to know what a grave walker or a bile cook is? I wonder what runes Grace, Amber, and Jasmine can access.

The local alphabet put the translation for exalted knight, courtesan, and high druid in separate volumes. Gently closing the book, Edith inhaled the aroma of parchment, then returned it and sought the volumes she needed. She lifted a fourth volume from the shelf to check it when a leather scuff sounded on the nearby stone.

How did he sneak up on me? Human senses are so dull compared to a Kitsune’s or a feline’s.

“Courtesan, you can’t be in here dressed that way!” Runecroft blurted from the end of the row.

Of course, a similar gown was just another insult to Jasmine.

“My apologies for browsing. No one was here when I arrived.” Edith turned and found the count’s dark gaze locked on her own. Making sure the flanking volumes hadn’t tilted, she slid the book she’d removed back onto the shelf.

“Would I get an answer if I asked whose favour allowed you in the castle and brought you past the wards?” Runecroft asked.

“That could expose a patron, Count Runecroft.”

“We’ve not met, yet you know my name.”

Edith smiled flirtatiously. “I had sufficient details to be sure of your identity.”

“Might I have your name?”

“You can call me Amber,” Edith replied.

The count returned her smile slightly. “Did you know that one of the castle’s old granny cats carries that name?”

“Yes, I did.”

“Of course, you did. What enticed you to use someone’s favour to come here, Madam Amber?” Runecroft asked, stalking closer.

“I needed to expand my knowledge on some subjects. The new arrivals and some particular classes are all some people wish to speak about at present,” Edith replied. “A few topics made me aware of gaps.”

“Is there any class on their tongue in particular?”

“Are you expecting me to divulge secrets?” Edith smirked.

“I’m not asking you to break your obligations of secrecy to whoever you entertained. Just which classes they are speaking of; in return, I’ll help you find up to three texts. Though you’ll have to read them here.”

“A number related to the arrivals, but exalted knight was the most interesting.”

The count stiffened.

“When was that mentioned?”

“This morning,” Edith replied.

“Word makes it out of the castle fast. Very well.” He waved broadly. “What is it you seek among this modest gathering of knowledge?”

“Modest? Why such humility, Count Runecroft? To me your library is more exquisite than a sunset.”

He blinked. “You are flattering the wrong person if you think to acquire a patron.”

“I’m not seeking any new patrons,” Edith responded. “I spoke the truth of my feelings about your library.”

“Interesting. You don’t look as if you’re lying, but I imagine you are a proficient actress, madam.”

“There is no need to act when the truth is so wondrous,” Edith said, motioning around them. “I love libraries, but I seldom have time to browse casually for whatever I want. Most frequently, I’m working when I have time to visit a library.”

“You’re not what I expected.” Runecroft’s gaze warmed.

“That happens when you judge someone solely on attire.”

“Yet yours shows such a delightful expanse of skin to behold.” Runecroft’s gaze finally shifted, slowly roaming down and back up. “You claim you’re not seeking new patrons, yet you visit the castle in attire that proclaims your profession.”

“I like this dress.” Edith leaned fractionally forward. “Don’t you?”

He stepped close and trailed one finger down her arm, raising goosebumps along Edith’s spine. “I’m sure that’s not your only reason.”

My goodness, are you flirting or just amorous, Count?

“I have fulfilled my side of the agreement,” Edith said. “Let’s complete one arrangement first.”

“Very professional. What texts would you like to read? The codex entry for the princess’s new class, perhaps?”

Edith touched the book she’d returned. “You’ve some duplicates of the class codex. Is this volume five?”

“Yes, that is volume five. There was no surprise in your eyes,” Runecroft noted. “There have indeed been loose lips.”

“Is it an issue?”

A touch set a ring on his left hand aglow. “I was sure word would spread, just not so fast. What other pillow talk have you heard about my niece or recent events?”

“You really wish me to discuss it here?”

“Sound now won’t travel beyond an arm’s reach.” Runecroft stepped close enough for his warm breath to brush her face. “Consider it a second agreement, and I’ll increase the payment for the first.”

“Were you flirting in case anyone overheard?”

“Yes, play along in case someone is watching. Let’s complete this agreement.”

Edith pouted playfully. “Aside from some wondering how a teenager with such a lavish dollhouse ends up with the exalted knight class so conveniently after the summoning?"

“Surely you’ve something more substantial to warrant, say, a doubling of payment?”

“Nothing really new. The most interesting topic was that the zealots aren’t happy with the new arrivals.”

“You’ve had a zealot in your bed?” Runecroft’s mouth twisted.

“No, but you have them in the castle.”

His dark blue gaze became an ice sheet. “We do not! The wards would keep out anyone who has taken their oaths.”

“Then maybe they aren’t sworn, but they’re saying the same thing. A watcher spoke the scripture line used to justify hating other species. He also suggested giving the summoned freaks last rites early. After all, they’re clearly not all actually heroes.”

“A watcher?” Runecroft’s nostrils flared white. “Used their words.”

“Yes. In particular, abide not those born—”

Though his face didn’t change, Runecroft’s growl cut her off. “Did your patron provide the name of this individual?”

“The tale involved three, though Kevin was the most concerning. A Mitchel was there talking him down, but he unhelpfully mentioned a hero’s funeral pyre had redeemed many. I’m sure someone can shake the zealot sympathisers loose of the guards if they so desired. Or do nothing if they desired.”

“They must be sympathisers, not sworn zealots.” He took a polished stone disc from a small pouch and pressed it into her palm. Edith almost dropped it. “Perhaps save this favour for something bigger than solely entry into the castle.”

I’ve no idea what this would let them do.

Edith pressed it against his chest. “I didn’t come here to upgrade my favour, but to browse the library.”

He frowned and pushed the disc back into her hand. “You’ll need that to get back in, since I doubt you’ll finish the reading that I’ll allow you in what remains of today. What are you seeking?”

“To expand my knowledge of classes and their available runes. It’s hard to converse confidently on a subject one hasn’t studied sufficiently.”

“Let us go to my office.” As the ring’s glow died, Runecroft stepped back with a lingering smile and offered her his arm. “There I can bend you over my desk.”

Oh, fuck me! He better have meant that and not added it for an eavesdropper.