Soul Fire sale, chapter 5. (Patreon)

Here we are. First one of the year, and who would have thought this one would dark horse it's way into tying with my most popular tale? Interesting. At any rate, please enjoy.

Morning came... a bit too early. It was still dark when Fellis barged right in and pulled the thick, fluffy blankets right off the bed, leaving me to the tender mercies of the room at large.

With the fire died down as far as it had, there were no such tender mercies, of course.

"Good morning!" The woman had the temerity to exclaim, as if it were true.

I couldn't tunnel through the bed, so I had to get up in search of blankets, or clothes. Preferably something that wasn't as... short as what I wore into the castle.

The dress Fellis was already holding up fit that bill; it looked thick and warm, the dark red color looked like it'd hide stains well, and it had long sleeves for my arms.

She held it low, and I obligingly stepped into it. Then, of course, I had to pull off the stupid nightgown, because of course I had a nightgown on. I'd honestly forgotten since it did nothing for the cold at all.

"Good morning," I finally replied, just as it hit me that letting a young woman see me naked might count as sexual harassment. Somehow.

I got the stupid thing off and Fellis pulled the dress up, fastening it behind like the other one needed to. This one had the same sort of setup for my... assets, but there was no corset to be seen, so I could at least breathe.

Oh hey, the bottom of the dress seemed to have stylized flames sewn into it, so it looked like I was being burned alive. I see what they did there, and it wasn't ominous at all.

"Nice dress."

"Thank you, My lady. I am told the Castellan picked it for you himself."

Fellis didn't seem to know, bless her. Her dressing task done, she moved to the fireplace to add a few cut logs and poke it.

There was a large basin of clear water on the vanity; where had that come from? Fellis must have brought it in, but I should have noticed that.

Right, time to start this. "So to what do I owe the pleasure of this exceptionally early visit?"

Fellis poked one more time and turned around, her own dress and apron still spotless. "The Castellan requests your presence, so that he might see to your equippage."

Right, never let it be said the man wasn't petty as hell. Fine, I could deal with this... before breakfast, and before any of the usual morning pick-me-ups.

I did have slippers, at least. The floor was bitingly cold without them.

"Fine, lead on. Who else will be there for this?"

"Some experienced knights, and myself, of course, my lady," came the swift reply by my maid.

It made sense to include her, since if I was supposed to be trying things on, I'd need her to get me out of this stupid dress. Hopefully the armor, whatever it was, would be warm?

"Oliver?"

"Of course," Fellis replied, beginning to lead the way now that we were out into the hall. The somehow slightly colder than my room hallway.

"The King?"

Fellis shook her head. It was nice to know some things, some gestures, were still the same. "Of course not. The King is still abed, and none would dare to wake him."

That made sense. "So why are we doing this before breakfast, or before the morning light even?"

"The Castellan has many tasks, and desires to finish this one as soon as he might, so that he might get his other tasks for the day completed."

Was it my imagination, or did Fellis sound apologetic there? It wasn't like I blamed her.

It was just petty bullshit, all of it. Something that didn't need to happen at all, but still happened. Even here, even to people being forced into slavery to fight and die for a cause that isn't theirs. Maybe they got called heroes after the fact, if they were lucky.

Stupid. Not quite the same way we do it back home; at home, we just used patriotism and poor economic conditions, but in the broad strokes it was close enough.

Fellis led me down the stairs again, then off to the side to a thick banded wooden door. She opened it to reveal steps further down, grabbed the lit lantern on a hook, and led the way down on sure feet.

The place was clean at least, for all that it seemed as if it should be dusty, have massive cobwebs, and a guy with white hair sticking up cackling about his latest creation at the end of it.

There was no such man, but at the end of the stairs was another hallway, this one dark and smelling ever so slightly of turned earth. Fellis went right with no hesitation, leading us under the wing my room was in. Interesting. I wonder what was back to the left? Surely they wouldn't put the dungeon for this place next to the armory - right?

Surely not.

The door Fellis led me to was at the end of the hall, and even larger than the other doors around us. Made of some metal - steel most likely - and a good three feet taller than I was.

There were also no less than four heavily armored guards, each much larger than I was. They all stood still and looked ahead with stern expressions, like statues, but they were clearly alive. One had a two-handed sword that was longer than I was tall.

Then Fellis led me to the left, toward a door set in an alcove that I hadn't even noticed in the gloom. Just in time to dodge those stern faces, for all that she didn't seem bothered by them at all.

She pushed against the door with a single hand, letting it slowly creak open.

Inside was Sir Klien, with two bookends that were also fully armored, but much less large than the four still trying to stare holes into me without seeming to. The overall effect was a little comedic, as if these two were children trying to imitate their parents.

The inside of the room was just barely visible in the torch light. The long table within it was large and old, bearing numerous chips and splintered sections along its rough wooden surface. There were also items along its length that could only generously be called weapons, and armor.

"Good morning Sir Klien, and knights whose names I do not know. I hope the day finds you well."

Sir Klien went right to it. "Along this table are such items we possess which will respond to you and serve your class well. You may choose whatever is on the table with no fear of reprisal and wear it from here."

Then he swept past me and left, making sure to curl a lip up as he went past and his eyes drank in my dress.

I almost expected him to say something, to be a bit more overt for a second... but he didn't.

His knights left with him, leaving Fellis and myself alone with only her lamp alone for light. I almost summoned light myself on reflex, but remembered where I was at the last minute.

It would be enough light, that lantern. Really. The entire situation was just petty.

The entire far left of the table was covered in cloth, and almost all that cloth was dedicated to dresses. Dark black dresses, which seemed to drink the dim light, almost without exception.

I could feel the power in them, but that didn't really help. The dresses were, at best, cocktail dresses back home; they covered most everything, but here, judging by what I'd seen, they would be scandalous. Well, probably. A small sample size was a small sample size, after all.

Judging by how Fellis's eyes lit up when I held the things up, one after the other, I was right though. Anything with a slit cut up the skirt to free a leg, or a low cut top, she was all for, and never mind how I'd freeze in all this well before I died of embarrassment.

All the shoes were either slippers with heel, or boots that bore a striking resemblance to what I'd call ball-stomper boots. Complete with metal spikes in places they shouldn't be, in some cases.

It was more than a little ridiculous. "Witch fashion seems to leave much to be desired."

"I will be sure to lodge a complaint with the gods, my Lady." was Fellis's prompt and pert response.

Right, nothing to do in the face of all this choice, but to pick one. I picked the one showing the least skin, which still had a nice long slit up the skirt for easy breezy movement, and gave Fellis the signal. She undid the stays, and the current dress slid down, reminding me instantly of how cold this pile of stones is.

Pulling the other dress on felt like sliding cobwebs up my body, and I didn't like it. However, there were no stays; once the thing was on it snuggled itself onto me, and felt much like the dress I'd just stepped out of.

Still a little cold, but nowhere near what it should be.

There, a small cape. Black of course, because why wouldn't it be? Except the moment I slipped it on, it grew fur - white fur. It also grew in length, over my shoulders and down to my feet. There was even a clasp, made of what appeared to be dull silver.

"Oh, I'm so jealous!" Fellis gasped out, her hands firmly clapped on her cheeks. "That looks to be a fine winter cloak."

"Well, it's warmer than the dress. I wonder if the same witch dropped off both items here?" There was no way this cheap kingdom bought such magical stuff. Not for my supposedly rare class.

"It could be. There are few witches, after all." Fellis dropped a hand, the other moving down to her chin in an obvious thinking pose. "I think in all the history of the kingdom, there were but five that were active here?"

That explained it. There, in the corner!

There was an old, tattered hat rack with old, tattered hats. Tattered hats of a very particular make, ones that I associated with the holiday Halloween. Oh hell. I really was dressing up as the hot witch for Halloween, wasn't I? I wonder how much our minds and expectations for gear and clothes here?

There, that hat. It wasn't cloth, and it wasn't quite leather either, but something in between. I could feel it, drawing me in. "How were these clothes found?"

"Most were made," Fellis replied. "Or so I have been told. Those strongest in the magical arts can make their own equipment."

Hm, could they? I didn't see anything offhand that covered clothes, last I looked. I needed to really sit down and go over all of it. When I was certain I was safe.

I was certain the hat now perched on my head, that fit as if it were made for me, was not made. At least not entirely; it screamed 'found' to me.

The boots... I guess I'd take the stompers. Just as the dress and hat had, the boots resized as if made for me. I turned... to see Fellis holding what could only be panties between her two index fingers, her gaze upon me expectant.

"Are you serious? Where even were those?"

Fellis smiled. "Under the dresses. There is also another garment, one meant for your breasts. Like the one you wore into the castle."

"Magical undies. Wonders never cease." Well, I did sort of need something to go under the dress, just in case. The idea of it being some old crusty secondhand panties was not one that appealed, but surely they were clean, right?

Fellis handed them over, and they both looked and felt clean.

Nothing for it, but to do it.

I slipped them on, and was immediately struck by another comforting wave of warmth.

Fellis held up the bra next... and it wasn't really a bra, but a series of strings tied together. Yeah, I wasn't doing that, even if it matched. Because of course, everything here matched everything else.

There, under that dress. A... mesh top? Looked like a sports bra, and if it was, that could work. I snagged it.

"Does the good Castellan mind how much I take from here?"

"If so, he did not inform me," Fellis answered. "However, if you leave the room with your arms laden with magical items, he might see fit to. Should you fall, recovering any of what you have taken might prove difficult."

"I'll try not to die and inconvenience him." Not the sort of thing you tell someone fighting for your continued existence. Seriously, these people....

Fellis was grinning at me. A nice, wide grin. So, a joke? One I could easily believe, if so.

I snagged the top, and the strings. I wasn't going to try and pull the dress down now; I was just getting warm again. I wasn't even sure I could take the damn thing off, considering how I got it on.

"There is one more thing... it is not a weapon, nor armor...." Fellis said, her grin still pasted on as she pointed to the far corner.

The far corner with... no way, are you kidding me?

There was a broom in the far corner, a primitive looking one that was basically a smoothed down branch with a bunch of straw tied to the bottom with rawhide cord. The sort of thing you'd expect a maid to clean with; only it was here, and it had some form of writing carved into it.

The cleaning implement gave me a thrum of power the moment my hand closed around it; it was pretty obvious that it did something. Maybe more than one something.

Still, was it worth it? What could it possibly do, in order to make me lean into the meme that hard?

"Fellis, do you have a coin on you? It doesn't matter what type."

She looked confused, and that was good. "A coin? Yes, I have a few coppers."

"Good. Let me borrow it for a minute?"

Fellis shrugged. "Certainly, my Lady. so long as it is only for a moment."

She fished into her apron pocket, bought out a small bag, fished into that, and then tossed me a coin. I caught the thing... it really was a copper coin, with a picture of a castle on one side. A guy with a crown on his head was on the other... but it wasn't the slaver king. His father, perhaps? There seemed to be some resemblance through the nose.

Whatever, it had heads, and it had tails. Heads was suck it up and deal, tails was leave here with my dignity intact. The fates themselves would decide.

I flipped the coin, and that power pulsed from the simple broom once again - and went directly to the coin. It landed perfectly in my palm without me even moving my hand so much as an inch, and of course it was heads.

The fix was in.

I tossed the coin back to Fellis with as dramatic a sigh as I could manage. "Fine, I get it, but can't you at least just make yourself a little less obvious somehow?"

The broom promptly shrank in my hand to about the size of a small dagger. Something I could stick in a belt sheath anyway.

"Thank you." It only seemed right to respond, since the thing was clearly listening.

The broom pulsed again. "Right."

I turned from it to find Fellis staring at both it and me, a little wide-eyed. This was what gets her? She watched my clothes resize and a cape change itself, but a broom shrinking shocked her?

Whatever. I had boots, a dress, underwear, a cape, and a broom. What else?

There were no weapons here. Not a single staff, dagger, or wand. I didn't know much about this sort of thing, but I did know witches used at least one of the three, and there wasn't a single one here.

"Looks like I'm going to need to get a few things from the armory."

At the very least, I'd need a good dagger; one should always have a good knife, no matter what their situation, and the further from modern living one was, the more important a good cutting tool became.

"Would you like me to guide you there, my Lady?"

Wasn't it down here, somewhere? "Where is it?"

"The armory lies outside the castle proper, near the smithy."

That was an inconvenient place for it. What if the place was ever sieged and they lost the walls? "Then where did all this come from?"

"The treasure room, my Lady. The chamber next to us, the one whose doors we saw while coming in here."

Right, these were magical items, so where else would they be kept? "Then no need to go just yet. There are other things we can do."

I was preparing for a journey, after all. An expedition? Something like that. So I'd need food, water, fire making tools, string and rope, all sorts of stuff. The same sort of stuff people take camping, and more.

Truth told, I didn't want to risk it being cold and wet outside. Not just yet anyway.

"As you wish, my Lady," Fellis answered promptly, suiting action to her words.

As she opened the door, I took one last look around. There didn't seem to be anything else I needed here, but I couldn't help that nagging feeling that I was missing something.

Whatever, it wasn't as if I wouldn't be back here; the plan was to post both of us here, and I'm sure there would be orders to that effect in both Oliver's and my near future. If I needed something else, I could just come back and get it.

Or I could get it from someone else who actually had a vested interest in seeing me succeed, like the people of the countryside. Assuming they didn't have the same issues the good Castellan had.

We headed back up, into the light, and now there was light, shining through the large windows.

We were met by another maid, who singled us out. "Good morn Fellis, lady Isobel. The king requests your presence for breaking fast at the end of the hour."

Why? The would-be slaver King was awake, which was a good thing. I was hungry. Most of an hour to get ready, huh? He was more high maintenance than me. Or more than the maids thought I should be, at any rate.

The day was sunny, judging from the windows. I don't think I had enough time to go weapon and tool hunting outside now though.

"Of course I will come," I told the maid, and she flounced off with far too much bounce in her step. Before I could ask what her name was.

"I want to make a list of things I might need, Fellis. I'd like to be as prepared for my... quest, as I can."

"Of course, my Lady. There are supplies one may use to write with in your room."

She led the way again, and while two butler types passed us on the stairs and hall respectively, they did not approach or attempt to speak to us.

I smelled something rotten in the state of Denmark... or the castle of... hmm.

"Fellis, what is the name of this Kingdom? I don't think anyone has ever mentioned it to me."

Fellis paused, for just a moment, then resumed as she answered. "The kingdom's name is Geyorne, also called the winged predator of the north."

Winged predator had a specific name, and the word brought to mind a falcon or hawk, but it was neither of those. So the magic in charge here would translate idioms for me; good to know.

"So what do you watch for then?" The idiom was of a watchful predator, eyes to the distance in readiness, so surely there was something to worry about there.

"Demons, of course," Fellis answered. "There is an old empire which fell to the demons long ago to the west of us, and an even older land which is filled with demons to the North of us. We hold both those doors, as it were, and we have for untold generations."

There was more than a little pride in her voice. I guess the grand kingdom here hadn't always been a laughing stock. I wonder if Fellis knew? Likely not, she probably didn't deal with the royalty of other nations much.

I couldn't imagine anyone other than an ambassador other people hated coming here willingly after all.

Whatever, it wasn't my concern. Oh wait. "Fellis, we forgot the dress. The one I wore down to the basement."

"We did not," Fellis answered as she unlocked the door to the room I was supposed to use. "Another maid shall retrieve it later, and launder it. Should you wish to wear it again, you need but ask. If you'd rather wear another dress now, I shall prepare one, and if you'd rather wear something else entirely, need but ask. We shall do our best to see to your wishes."

More pride, and this time it was personal; she was happy and would stake her reputation, her very self, to do her best by me. Through extension, they all would, it seemed. The would be slaver King had some good people under him.

"That's fine. What I'm wearing right now will work for right now, I guess." There was no sense in putting all that effort in when I'd have to be wearing this stuff when I got thrown out later today. Why add more work to an already overworked staff? The idea of a dress languishing down there, or any clothing really, rotting in the dark because it'd been forgotten about just rubbed my sensibilities wrong.

Waste not, want not, and all that.

...And now Fellis was motioning me to sit in front of the vanity. Hell.

I caught myself sighing, but sat anyway. "Just a little, if you must. Nothing like the hour last night."

"As you command, my Lady."

Yeah, I heard that smirk in her voice. She likely didn't know the secret, but she definitely knew something was up. Maybe she just thought I was a tomboy. Maybe I was, maybe I counted as one now.

I sat there and let her paint me up. As promised, it didn't take nearly as long as the last time, and then she was stepping away.

While she was distracted, I took advantage to touch up the little beauty mark on my hand. A simple finger tracing and a minor spell let me darken the rune enough that those who noticed it shouldn't see any difference. Fellis didn't seem to notice, or if she did, she didn't care.

A quick glance to make sure I hadn't been made up to join the circus proved that I had not. If anything, the young woman in the mirror was just as stunning as she was last night - and still just as unfamiliar.

Maybe with time, I'd get used to it. Maybe I'd find an answer to fixing it; witches could historically change people into toads, so maybe other forms would be possible? Catching flies didn't really appeal to me.

The hall was empty when we joined it, and Fellis once again led the way with a "this way, my Lady" as if there was some other way to go. Well, maybe out the window.

I'd left both the broom and the bra behind, but there was no going back now. The dress covered everything anyway.

Well, mostly. "Fellis, I require some kind of sheath for the broom. Can you see to it during breakfast?"

"Of course, my Lady. I shall have one ready by the time you finish your meal."

"Thank you."

There really was nothing else to say as we made our way down to same dining room as before.

This time, there were more people there; I was a bit early, yet the table was almost full, with a large number of seats taken up by older people who might or might not be overweight and... facially challenged. Wow.

I showed none of this of course, even as I was forced to stride past a man that might have made three of me in weight alone and not quote the movie the princess bride with a: 'dear God, what is that thing!'.

Some people had it very rough in life. This man had boils. actual boils, on his face, and he didn't look to be ill otherwise. I was pretty sure that took more than a little talent.

At least I wasn't sitting next to him, but instead an older gentleman that might have made three of me in age alone yet somehow carried a refined and dignified air that anyone would take notice of. It had to be his posture... the man was so straight I was certain he could give a level pointers.

Oliver still wasn't here, and Fellis had p[romptly opened the door for me and left, so I was alone here and without allies.

The King wasn't here, of course, which was how I knew I wasn't late. That meant I had to deal with the entire almost full table talking to me alone.

Including the Castellan, who was apparently so busy he was here. A further insult if ever I saw one.

If that was what his worst was, it was bearable. I could deal.

Despite what I expected, the table was silent, with everyone else around the table shooting meaning-filled glances at each other in between looking at me. Some were even looking at my face.

Oliver finally burst in, just as quick and noisy as he'd been last night. His butler calmly closed the door and went to stand to the side, just as he had last night.

"Whew, not late," the man said as he plopped down.

Like me, Oliver had come dressed to impress. He had a robe on, a brown robe open in front... and that was over a white shirt with laces done up and black pants that had ragged hems. His hat was a floppy one, just like Gandalf swore by.

Which reminded me. I had my hat on, indoors. I'd even seen it in the mirror; I'd forgotten I was wearing it, somehow. Magic indeed.

I reached up and pulled it off, setting it in front of me. The new item in the way freed many a man's eyeballs to look around and notice other things.

Oliver pulled his own hat off: "We match! Well, kind of. This thing likes to crook at the top."

Mine stood straight as an arrow, as the saying went. "I'm sure mine will get that way in time. What kept you?"

"I had three tables of gear to go through. Clothes, armor, and weapons. I wanted to be thorough."

Right, I could even see he had a belt similar to what I wanted. Not that I was jealous at all.

"How about you?" Oliver asked, giving me a once-over. Somehow there seemed to be no heat in it. "I wouldn't have pegged you for something like that."

"I had a bit less choice," I admitted. "Apparently, my class is a rare one."

I'd gestured, and Oliver's eyes snapped to my hand. His smile turned brittle for just a second, then spread out into something honest.

Leave it to him to notice. Somehow.

I wouldn't confirm anything just yet. What he didn't know for sure, he couldn't tell anyone about.

"Well, the look suits you." Oliver said, as if that was something good. He even knew better.

"Thanks. Your look suits you as well."

I even meant that, which was a little surprising. I found myself liking this young man for his earnest enthusiasm. Especially in light of what was happening to us and around us.

The door opened, and this time I was ready, so I shot to my feet in time with everyone else. Oliver was a touch slow, and I took the opportunity to smirk at him as the would-be slaver King swept into the room.

He looked every inch a king this morning, with a gold crown free of dents and dings, dressed in furs and silks dyed rich red and purple hues, and a stern countenance plastered on his face. He also looked less tired today. Less worn down by all of life's problems, the wear and tear of existence.

He sat without preamble, and we all plunked down. His four servants spread behind the man, two per side, and then the maids started bringing in breakfast.

My traitor stomach growled at the smell of freshly roasted ham; if anyone heard it, they chose not to make issue of the noise.

The man turned my way and froze. I was glad my new hat was blocking most of what he could see. What was it with people freezing at the sight of me? Was it some kind of passive skill? Some racial ability? Some games had those concepts, and this world seemed to follow that logic....

I had to drop that line of thought for my sanity as a maid I didn't know and hadn't seen before took my new hat in her hands. She hung it upon one of the handles of her cart, then put plates near me with an efficiency I'd only seen in some waitresses back home... the ones with years on the job.

Right, no hat to run interference now, so the would-be slaver King could see the everything. Well, the entire dress at least. Sure enough, he was still staring. At least he was moving, so he wasn't frozen anymore.

I took a sip of what proved to be water, freshly placed before me, and wasn't that nice? The first thing I'd had to drink this morning.

By the time I set the water down, half of it was gone and my place was set. The other dishes were set near enough to reach if I wanted any. The King had been served first, of course, and not all the servants were as fast as the one serving me.

I took advantage when one of the servers clinked the silverware a little too loud when slapping it down in front of one of the old guys, and muttered the two words for the spell under my breath. No one noticed.

None of the food glowed, so there was no poison.

On second thought, I should have confirmed that the glow was for my eyes only rather than for all and sundry. Stupid of me, but this kind of thing had me a little paranoid; not even the Castellan would poison me, right? He wanted his kingdom, his home saved. More than he hated me at first sight, surely.

I waited on the King, and he made a sweeping gesture with his hand, then lifted his fork.

That was enough for me, I went after the nearest piece of ham, which was a slice cooked just the right side of burnt. There were eggs too, of course, and those were next.

The little loaves of bread were still steaming, and the butter looked fresh. That was next.

The would-be slaver King opened with: "It gladdens my heart to see you both properly equipped for the rigors ahead."

He hadn't even looked at Oliver. Well, maybe a glance. "Everything but a weapon. I assume my kind use staves or daggers?"

"Wands, betimes," the man who looked like a king responded. "We had none?"

The Castellan shook his head. "We did not. I searched the treasury for hours, yet found none."

Reassurance time. "It's fine, all I need is a good dagger. It's hard to beat the utility of a good knife. For all the rest, I'm sure my magic will be more effective than any melee I could offer. If your witches are anything like my witches, they are not well known for their physical prowess."

"That is correct," the stiff old man harrumphed out. "The witch class is one of curses and poisons, who enfeeble their enemies and then use the forces of nature or minions to finish them in combat."

Everyone since I arrived had said that. I knew just from looking at my spell list that there was more involved.

"It is hard to go wrong with good, honest steel," the would-be slaver King replied. He also seemed happy about the eggs.

"Either way, I am close to ready. I still need some... what do people call them? Sundries?"

"That is one word for it," the stiff old guy said.

I couldn't help but notice the other nobles were being very silent. Some were casting nervous glances at their supposed lord. Was that fear? It certainly looked like fear.

"Of course. You may take your time to prepare, and should you need anything, from food and shelter to new weapons, you can return to claim it. What we have shall be provided to you. You both should return to this castle at least once a month."

A tingle, so faint it was barely there, let me know that was a command. I nodded my head as Oliver nodded his.

"You should also head West first, and discover the truth of the rumors and sightings among the peasantry."

Another tingle, this one even fainter than the last. It was a good thing I'd traced the rune gracing my hand. I focused on it for just a moment, actively burning the shape of it into my memory; going by the feel alone, I wouldn't be seeing it much longer and I'd need to recreate it every time I came back here. At least, until I didn't.

Right, I should at least answer the man: "As you command."

The would-be slaver king nodded as if this was a foregone conclusion, cleaning up his plate.

Then he said something surprising. "Breakfast is over. All of you may leave. Now."

Interesting, some of these people weren't done, myself included. The man had inhaled his food today.

Still, he didn't have to tell me twice.

"Isobel, you stay. I would have words with you."

The tingle was nothing, not even the pull of a gossamer thread, but I stopped regardless. It wouldn't do to give away the game just yet. "As you command."

I didn't have to sound happy about it, at least. Something even he should pick up on.

Oliver was giving me a concerned look, and truthfully, he was right to do so, if not for the reasons he thought. If this guy tried something, he would regret it, and then I'd be forced to make everyone else in this castle regret all the things.

The room cleared out, slowly but surely, with even the servants leaving. Why shouldn't they? As far as anyone knew, this man had perfect control over me, and I was already forbidden from hurting him in any way.

He waited two beats after the door closed, then started softly: "Isobel, come with me to my capital."

That... wasn't a command, somehow? Had my rune... no, it was still there, I still felt it.

"Why? You are not ordering me. What is the point of this?"

The would-be king jumped up and strode over, then grabbed my hand, the one with the rune, in both of his. "I fell in love with you the moment I saw you. Come with me, and I will make you my queen. It won't be a bad life, I shall ensure you want for nothing, and no one would dare treat you badly."

So he knew, did he? He was wrong, of course; even if I could control my nausea long enough, every other king, queen, or emperor would treat me badly. This man's kingdom was a laughing stock, and he was tolerated at best.

His hands were beginning to go places they had best not go, creeping up my arm like that.

"Your majesty, I could not do such a thing. My heart aches for people in need, and your people's need is very great. How could I turn my back on them?"

Translation: I'd rather be dead in a ditch than your wife. You disgust me. Hell, this man knew how I'd arrived here, so he should know just how horrid his idea sounded to me.

The king was near breathless as he answered. "As expected, the spell brings only the most noble of souls from the other side, no matter the bodies they house them in." Then his right hand left my hand, and slid right down to my ass.

My kick was instinctive, and caught him square in between his legs. With all the force I could muster behind it, he went down immediately.

It was a good thing I hadn't gotten a weapon yet after all; if I had, I surely would have plunged it in the man. Just watching him writhe around on the ground wasn't enough.

Right, damage control. Before I had to do something I might regret. "Rune of slavery or not, I won't let anyone just lay hands on me. Even you."

I had to give him credit; he didn't take long to recover. His face was closed off. I expected more anger. "I shall take that as your response, then."

He was giving the rune the stink-eye again. "I must say, you're taking this pretty well, your Majesty."

The grin he favored me with was wry. "I need you too much. As I'm sure you already know."

"I wouldn't have been able to help from the capital."

The man's reply was loaded: "I was willing to make an exception rather than send you to your death. I really had no untoward intentions."

He seemed to think that was an important and correct point. Time to tear it down, then. "You bought me, your Majesty. I showed up at a strange and unfamiliar place, was bought for the purpose of battling some form of supernatural horrors, and then you made a pass at me. Were it you, would you feel grateful if a person bought you and then laid hands upon your person? Asked you to marry them?"

Hands over his face as if to wash it clean. That meant success; the man got it.

He even proved it. "You are right."

Then he looked up, and his gaze pierced mine. "Yet, knowing what I know, yes, I would take the offer. I see now my approach was wrong, as your people are different from ours. So I shall extend the offer once again: should you change your mind, simply send a letter to me. My name is Kornald. If you address it as such, it should reach me."

That... was more magnanimous than I thought he'd be.I was willing to let bygones be bygones if he was.

"Thank you for the choice, your Majesty. I do appreciate your... forgiveness in this matter."

The man gave a ghost of a smile before closing himself off again. "Do not expect such a second time."

Right, he couldn't afford it. He was walking a tight rope as it was.

Which was fine, even if he was an asshole, I wasn't going to throw his people under the bus, so he'd be fine. Well, mostly.

"You are dismissed." The wanna-be groom said.

Right, that was a thing here. "As you command, your majesty."

The bow was probably not the right move, come to think of it, but I couldn't be bothered with that now. I needed to get out of the room before he changed his mind, and hope that he didn't change his mind once he was out of my sight.

Stranger things have happened.

I mean it wouldn't change anything, and he surely knew something was up now, but appearances were appearances and all that.

Fellis was waiting on me, she fell in as I swung the door shut. "I found what you requested, my Lady."

"Good job." She had indeed, it was in her hand. A small sheath that looked like it was made for a pen, of all things. I had a loop for a belt, and I did so happen to have a brand new belt to hang it from.

"Excellent. Can we head to the smithy? I'd like to pick out a dagger now, if possible."

"If you'd like, my Lady."

I'd like nothing more than to get out of here.