As Hector finished the final adjustments on Drake’s cuffs and collar, he couldn’t shake the feeling of almost paternal affection from his new blood thrall. This felt like a dad adjusting his collar before he headed out to the prom, though Hector was only five years older than Drake was. Still, the man had taken to his manservant role with aplomb.
“Have a look now, sir.” Hector spoke with all the stern but respectful propriety Drake would expect. “If you aren’t entirely pleased, I’m certain I can make adjustments.”
As Drake turned to the full-length mirror in his private chamber, he couldn’t help but be impressed. Now that he had one of the most desirable former male courtesans of Korhaurbauten to choose his clothing, trim and style his hair, and dress him for formal occasions, he looked fantastic. He didn’t even know what all the pieces of clothing Hector had combined were called, only that he wore more than he would normally.
His bottom layer was silverweave, which would always look good, but once given free rein, Hector had contacted his favorite tailor and convinced the man to rush to Drake’s chambers and personally fit him for tonight’s banquet. That meant Drake now wore a crisp gold and black jacket on top of his silverweave—Hector had called it a doublet—as well as a waist-length brown cloak, some sort of cross between a tie and a ribbon below his neck, and a set of poofier than normal pants that were tucked into a set of knee high boots.
He glanced at Hector and grinned. “I like it. Great job.”
The big man looked thrilled with the praise, and Drake saw him almost bow before he remembered. Instead, he lowered his gaze and clasped a hand to his heart. “Thank you, lord.”
Drake looked again at the mirror. Had he seen all the clothing separately, he would have sworn it off, but Hector knew all about dressing to impress. Drake’s new manservant had assured him all the well-to-do of Korhaurbauten dressed like this at formal events, and given money was of no consequence, Drake had purchased the best clothing for this event.
He’d even gotten his hair cut and trimmed—finally—and was pleased with the results. He still had his naturally luxurious mane of longer-than-average dark hair, but now it looked healthy and well-groomed instead of the hair of a wild savage. He’d also found time to shave, and Samuel’s rarity meant accidentally nicking himself with a straight razor was no big deal.
His only regret was that he couldn’t bring Magnum to tonight’s banquet. Unlike at a cabal, weapons were forbidden. Still, carrying his heavy crossbow around the whole night would get tiring. His folks would all have weapons the capital couldn’t take away.
Lydia and Nicole had their spirit knives. Emily had her spectral battle axe. And Valentia had the ability to freeze people’s blood. Drake doubted any of them would be far from his side as the night wound on, and he also doubted the other manor lords would dare strike him at the banquet. The Judge had made it clear that any altercation would carry serious penalties.
He wasn’t going to ever fully relax. He’d never fully let his guard down again, not after the horrors he’d witnessed on that beach. But tonight, at least, his entire manor would have one more opportunity to relax and enjoy themselves... this time, inside a guarded chamber inside the Temple of the Eidolons surrounded by capital guards on all sides.
Drake was surprised when no one turned down the Judge’s invitation. He’d expected some of his people to bow out, if for no other reason than they were grieving fallen friends. Yet to a one, every last person in the capital who was capable of attending a banquet was attending the banquet. Drake hoped to at least say hello to all of them before the night ended.
Everyone in his manor had put their lives on the line to save him when he was captured by the noble court. He owed them. Plus, it just felt like the right thing to do. Every day no one betrayed him proved it was possible to run a manor without blood magic slavery, and he wanted as much evidence as he could get to push for a worldwide change.
He also found himself awfully curious to know what Sky would be wearing tonight.
“How long until the banquet?” Drake asked.
“We should leave shortly, lord,” Hector said. “It is customary for manor lords to arrive early so that they can be announced, and it is also inappropriate for thralls to arrive before their manor lord. Your presence at the banquet will ensure your thralls feel free to arrive as well.”
Drake hadn’t known any of that, but he trusted Hector not to lead him astray. “Sounds good. Let’s go see how the others made out.”
Drake had, of course, allowed his battle maids to purchase dresses for the banquet as well, if they wanted one. What good was a huge pile of manor lord gold if he didn’t spend it on his people? As a manor lord with the favor of the noble court, he got all the best deals.
Hector smoothly walked ahead and knocked on the door before opening it, just as Drake would have done. “Lord Gloomwood is ready to emerge!”
“Please tell me he’s wearing pants!” Nicole called from the other side of the door.
Hector looked to Drake. “With your permission, lord.”
His new manservant seemed even more unnecessarily respectful than the rest of his staff, but that was something Drake would work on with him. He wasn’t even sure how much he’d correct. More than anyone, serving as Drake’s subordinate seemed to make Hector happy. Who was he to deny this brave, pleasant, and relatively simple dude some happiness?
“Open the door,” Drake confirmed.
Hector opened the door for him and strode out ahead of him. Drake followed to find Nicole waiting. When her eyes fell upon him, they widened.
“What?” Drake asked. “I’m wearing pants.”
Nicole now wore a black dress with a wide strap that ran across the top of her shoulder. It left her shoulders bare and ended above her knees, where the leggings of her silverweave maid outfit continued. She looked like she was ready to attend a wedding or a wake.
“Is my fly unzipped?” Drake asked.
“You look...” Nicole took a beat. “Civilized.”
Drake grinned as he realized she might actually be impressed. “Are you saying Hector did a poor job dressing and grooming me? After he worked so hard today?”
Hector’s immediate and visible disappointment was like the expression one would see on a recently kicked puppy. Nicole saw it as well, and Drake could swear he saw her mentally curse at his crestfallen expression. Even Nicole couldn’t kick a puppy without guilt.
“You look good,” she admitted. “You look quite good... as men go. Appropriately poofy.”
Hector visibly relaxed. “You had me worried a moment, Lady Nicole.”
“And you, Hector dear, look as fantastic as always.” Nicole smiled his way as if to relieve some of the sting of her earlier comment. “It’s nice of you to dress down so as not to outshine Lord Gloomwood. How kind of you.”
“You’re not bad yourself,” Drake said. “You rock that little black dress.”
“This dress is not near so little as the one I initially selected,” Nicole said petulantly. “Val complained it showed too much, yet I was given to understand that showing too much was the point of these affairs. She also refused the dress I suggested for her.”
“Was it also little?”
“She gets so hot, lord! Less dress means she will be more comfortable.”
“She can’t be comfortable if you’re not protected. Silverweave protects.”
“I hate that you’re right,” Nicole said with a sniff. “But enough about the many fascinating aspects of our tumultuous relationship. The others await you in the main chamber, and as I hope Hector has told you, we need to get on with it so the others can too.”
Nicole took the lead with Hector behind her and Drake following behind them. He emerged into the main chamber of his rooms at the capital to find the small group of people that would be traveling with Drake to the banquet. The rest of his folks would arrive after.
His people cleaned up well. Samuel wore an outfit similar to Drake’s, though his cloak was black instead of brown, and his boots were a different style. Even though his tunic, doublet, and clothing weren’t as ornate as Drake’s, the Rope Tree continued to cut a dashing figure. This time, however, with Hector in his corner, Drake knew he did as well.
Emily was facing away from him and chatting animatedly with Valentia. She had chosen a sparkly blood-red dress with a hemline at mid-thigh and an open back dropping to her waist. Her bare and muscular back made clear Emily wore no silverweave on her upper half, which worried Drake a little... but she was also Emily, so she’d probably be fine.
Like Nicole, black silverweave stockings ran down from the end of Emily’s dress to her red leather boots, so she was at least somewhat protected from magical attack. He was relieved to see the heels on her boots were low and practical, not stilettos, which meant if he needed Chopper to kill something, she’d be able to get there as fast as he needed her.
As for Valentia, she’d gone with a conservative green dress that left only her shoulders and arms bare. It dropped to her ankles, though the way it fit meant she wouldn’t need less dress to turn heads. Her dress was slitted up its lower sides to allow her to move, but he doubted she could run in it. She didn’t have to move to freeze people.
His mother was the last of the small group by the doors, and Drake was surprised to see how different Marissa looked when dressed up for a formal affair. He almost wouldn’t have recognized her if not for the fact that he’d expected her to be here. Gone was the average and often tired-looking mother whom he’d seen whenever their paths crossed in their apartment.
Marissa had gone with a black dress quite similar in style to Valentia’s, neck to ankles, but hers also had gold stripes and a complicated floral pattern rippling across it that looked rather expensive. She also wore black sandals rather than boots, but her jeweled necklace, earrings, and painted lips looked so unlike the mother he was used to it threw him for a loop.
His mother looked... well, not like he expected his mother to look. He would simply acknowledge she looked nice and move on. That was about all his brain could manage.
Once he, Hector, and Nicole joined the small group waiting by the double doors of his chambers, Drake confirmed someone was missing. “Where’s Lydia?”
“Finalizing arrangements for the banquet with River,” Valentia said. “River volunteered to handle organizing the rest of the thralls for tonight’s event while Lydia sees to our needs.”
Drake appreciated that, like Hector with his manservant duties, River was eagerly taking her to her role as Lydia’s assistant. If all went well, Lydia would finally get a break from working so hard all the time. A great rarity wasn’t all one needed in a new manor employee.
Valentia glanced past Drake at the kitchens. “Here she is now.”
Drake turned in the direction of the kitchen and did a double-take as a slim woman emerged from the kitchens in a gauzy, flowing blue dress that faded to white past her hips.
He swallowed in surprise. Was that... was that Lydia?
It wasn’t that Lydia’s dress was particularly low cut, though it did have a shallow V down its center that was covered in translucent lace. The lace covered her shoulders as well, but was so transparent her dress appeared to slip off her shoulders and float against her slim upper arms. The truly striking thing about this dress was the host of purple butterflies that seemed to flutter across the fabric, obscuring but not quite obscuring everything they should.
Those butterflies made the dress... and Lydia... absolutely striking in the afternoon light. Of course she’d go with butterflies. Butterflies suited her. She also had her long black hair done up in a complex arrangement that rivaled Sky’s braids in all the best ways. Finally, she’d applied purple lip paint, soft pink eyeshadow, and faint blush.
As Lydia approached him, her delicate brow furrowed as she met his gaze. “Is something the matter, lord?”
Drake recovered his faculties. “No, no problem. You ready to go?”
“I am. River has the rest of tonight’s planning well in hand.”
“And...” He struggled with how to say this without being weird. “You look nice.”
Her soft smile complimented her blush. “Thank you, lord. You look dashing as well.” She glanced at Hector. “You’ve done well tonight.”
The man bowed. “Thank you, mistress.”
Drake hadn’t ordered the man not to bow to others, just not to him. Best not to confuse his uncomplicated manservant with complicated orders. Still, as Drake glanced again at Lydia, he felt butterflies in his stomach as well, and... what?
Nothing at all. Every last one of his people looked fantastic tonight, and they were going to make the other manor lords envious. As they should. Gloomwood Manor forever!
“All right,” Drake said. “Anyone have any reason we can’t get this banquet over with?”
“Not a one, lord,” Lydia said. “With your permission, we should be off immediately. The capital guards wait now outside the doors to escort us to the banquet.”
“Then to the banquet we go. Remember, relax but stay alert. If we get attacked by kromians or mercenaries or, I don’t know, fucking demon squirrels, each of you knows where to go and who to protect. Now, let’s try and enjoy ourselves tonight. That’s an order.”
Emily thoughtfully tapped her lips. “If we had to choose, I wouldn’t mind being attacked by demon squirrels. I bet they’d be absolutely adorable!”
As Hector finished the final adjustments on Drake’s cuffs and collar, he couldn’t shake the feeling of almost paternal affection from his new blood thrall. This felt like a dad adjusting his collar before he headed out to the prom, though Hector was only five years older than Drake was. Still, the man had taken to his manservant role with aplomb.
“Have a look now, sir.” Hector spoke with all the stern but respectful propriety Drake would expect. “If you aren’t entirely pleased, I’m certain I can make adjustments.”
As Drake turned to the full-length mirror in his private chamber, he couldn’t help but be impressed. Now that he had one of the most desirable former male courtesans of Korhaurbauten to choose his clothing, trim and style his hair, and dress him for formal occasions, he looked fantastic. He didn’t even know what all the pieces of clothing Hector had combined were called, only that he wore more than he would normally.
His bottom layer was silverweave, which would always look good, but once given free rein, Hector had contacted his favorite tailor and convinced the man to rush to Drake’s chambers and personally fit him for tonight’s banquet. That meant Drake now wore a crisp gold and black jacket on top of his silverweave—Hector had called it a doublet—as well as a waist-length brown cloak, some sort of cross between a tie and a ribbon below his neck, and a set of poofier than normal pants that were tucked into a set of knee high boots.
He glanced at Hector and grinned. “I like it. Great job.”
The big man looked thrilled with the praise, and Drake saw him almost bow before he remembered. Instead, he lowered his gaze and clasped a hand to his heart. “Thank you, lord.”
Drake looked again at the mirror. Had he seen all the clothing separately, he would have sworn it off, but Hector knew all about dressing to impress. Drake’s new manservant had assured him all the well-to-do of Korhaurbauten dressed like this at formal events, and given money was of no consequence, Drake had purchased the best clothing for this event.
He’d even gotten his hair cut and trimmed—finally—and was pleased with the results. He still had his naturally luxurious mane of longer-than-average dark hair, but now it looked healthy and well-groomed instead of the hair of a wild savage. He’d also found time to shave, and Samuel’s rarity meant accidentally nicking himself with a straight razor was no big deal.
His only regret was that he couldn’t bring Magnum to tonight’s banquet. Unlike at a cabal, weapons were forbidden. Still, carrying his heavy crossbow around the whole night would get tiring. His folks would all have weapons the capital couldn’t take away.
Lydia and Nicole had their spirit knives. Emily had her spectral battle axe. And Valentia had the ability to freeze people’s blood. Drake doubted any of them would be far from his side as the night wound on, and he also doubted the other manor lords would dare strike him at the banquet. The Judge had made it clear that any altercation would carry serious penalties.
He wasn’t going to ever fully relax. He’d never fully let his guard down again, not after the horrors he’d witnessed on that beach. But tonight, at least, his entire manor would have one more opportunity to relax and enjoy themselves... this time, inside a guarded chamber inside the Temple of the Eidolons surrounded by capital guards on all sides.
Drake was surprised when no one turned down the Judge’s invitation. He’d expected some of his people to bow out, if for no other reason than they were grieving fallen friends. Yet to a one, every last person in the capital who was capable of attending a banquet was attending the banquet. Drake hoped to at least say hello to all of them before the night ended.
Everyone in his manor had put their lives on the line to save him when he was captured by the noble court. He owed them. Plus, it just felt like the right thing to do. Every day no one betrayed him proved it was possible to run a manor without blood magic slavery, and he wanted as much evidence as he could get to push for a worldwide change.
He also found himself awfully curious to know what Sky would be wearing tonight.
“How long until the banquet?” Drake asked.
“We should leave shortly, lord,” Hector said. “It is customary for manor lords to arrive early so that they can be announced, and it is also inappropriate for thralls to arrive before their manor lord. Your presence at the banquet will ensure your thralls feel free to arrive as well.”
Drake hadn’t known any of that, but he trusted Hector not to lead him astray. “Sounds good. Let’s go see how the others made out.”
Drake had, of course, allowed his battle maids to purchase dresses for the banquet as well, if they wanted one. What good was a huge pile of manor lord gold if he didn’t spend it on his people? As a manor lord with the favor of the noble court, he got all the best deals.
Hector smoothly walked ahead and knocked on the door before opening it, just as Drake would have done. “Lord Gloomwood is ready to emerge!”
“Please tell me he’s wearing pants!” Nicole called from the other side of the door.
Hector looked to Drake. “With your permission, lord.”
His new manservant seemed even more unnecessarily respectful than the rest of his staff, but that was something Drake would work on with him. He wasn’t even sure how much he’d correct. More than anyone, serving as Drake’s subordinate seemed to make Hector happy. Who was he to deny this brave, pleasant, and relatively simple dude some happiness?
“Open the door,” Drake confirmed.
Hector opened the door for him and strode out ahead of him. Drake followed to find Nicole waiting. When her eyes fell upon him, they widened.
“What?” Drake asked. “I’m wearing pants.”
Nicole now wore a black dress with a wide strap that ran across the top of her shoulder. It left her shoulders bare and ended above her knees, where the leggings of her silverweave maid outfit continued. She looked like she was ready to attend a wedding or a wake.
“Is my fly unzipped?” Drake asked.
“You look...” Nicole took a beat. “Civilized.”
Drake grinned as he realized she might actually be impressed. “Are you saying Hector did a poor job dressing and grooming me? After he worked so hard today?”
Hector’s immediate and visible disappointment was like the expression one would see on a recently kicked puppy. Nicole saw it as well, and Drake could swear he saw her mentally curse at his crestfallen expression. Even Nicole couldn’t kick a puppy without guilt.
“You look good,” she admitted. “You look quite good... as men go. Appropriately poofy.”
Hector visibly relaxed. “You had me worried a moment, Lady Nicole.”
“And you, Hector dear, look as fantastic as always.” Nicole smiled his way as if to relieve some of the sting of her earlier comment. “It’s nice of you to dress down so as not to outshine Lord Gloomwood. How kind of you.”
“You’re not bad yourself,” Drake said. “You rock that little black dress.”
“This dress is not near so little as the one I initially selected,” Nicole said petulantly. “Val complained it showed too much, yet I was given to understand that showing too much was the point of these affairs. She also refused the dress I suggested for her.”
“Was it also little?”
“She gets so hot, lord! Less dress means she will be more comfortable.”
“She can’t be comfortable if you’re not protected. Silverweave protects.”
“I hate that you’re right,” Nicole said with a sniff. “But enough about the many fascinating aspects of our tumultuous relationship. The others await you in the main chamber, and as I hope Hector has told you, we need to get on with it so the others can too.”
Nicole took the lead with Hector behind her and Drake following behind them. He emerged into the main chamber of his rooms at the capital to find the small group of people that would be traveling with Drake to the banquet. The rest of his folks would arrive after.
His people cleaned up well. Samuel wore an outfit similar to Drake’s, though his cloak was black instead of brown, and his boots were a different style. Even though his tunic, doublet, and clothing weren’t as ornate as Drake’s, the Rope Tree continued to cut a dashing figure. This time, however, with Hector in his corner, Drake knew he did as well.
Emily was facing away from him and chatting animatedly with Valentia. She had chosen a sparkly blood-red dress with a hemline at mid-thigh and an open back dropping to her waist. Her bare and muscular back made clear Emily wore no silverweave on her upper half, which worried Drake a little... but she was also Emily, so she’d probably be fine.
Like Nicole, black silverweave stockings ran down from the end of Emily’s dress to her red leather boots, so she was at least somewhat protected from magical attack. He was relieved to see the heels on her boots were low and practical, not stilettos, which meant if he needed Chopper to kill something, she’d be able to get there as fast as he needed her.
As for Valentia, she’d gone with a conservative green dress that left only her shoulders and arms bare. It dropped to her ankles, though the way it fit meant she wouldn’t need less dress to turn heads. Her dress was slitted up its lower sides to allow her to move, but he doubted she could run in it. She didn’t have to move to freeze people.
His mother was the last of the small group by the doors, and Drake was surprised to see how different Marissa looked when dressed up for a formal affair. He almost wouldn’t have recognized her if not for the fact that he’d expected her to be here. Gone was the average and often tired-looking mother whom he’d seen whenever their paths crossed in their apartment.
Marissa had gone with a black dress quite similar in style to Valentia’s, neck to ankles, but hers also had gold stripes and a complicated floral pattern rippling across it that looked rather expensive. She also wore black sandals rather than boots, but her jeweled necklace, earrings, and painted lips looked so unlike the mother he was used to it threw him for a loop.
His mother looked... well, not like he expected his mother to look. He would simply acknowledge she looked nice and move on. That was about all his brain could manage.
Once he, Hector, and Nicole joined the small group waiting by the double doors of his chambers, Drake confirmed someone was missing. “Where’s Lydia?”
“Finalizing arrangements for the banquet with River,” Valentia said. “River volunteered to handle organizing the rest of the thralls for tonight’s event while Lydia sees to our needs.”
Drake appreciated that, like Hector with his manservant duties, River was eagerly taking her to her role as Lydia’s assistant. If all went well, Lydia would finally get a break from working so hard all the time. A great rarity wasn’t all one needed in a new manor employee.
Valentia glanced past Drake at the kitchens. “Here she is now.”
Drake turned in the direction of the kitchen and did a double-take as a slim woman emerged from the kitchens in a gauzy, flowing blue dress that faded to white past her hips.
He swallowed in surprise. Was that... was that Lydia?
It wasn’t that Lydia’s dress was particularly low cut, though it did have a shallow V down its center that was covered in translucent lace. The lace covered her shoulders as well, but was so transparent her dress appeared to slip off her shoulders and float against her slim upper arms. The truly striking thing about this dress was the host of purple butterflies that seemed to flutter across the fabric, obscuring but not quite obscuring everything they should.
Those butterflies made the dress... and Lydia... absolutely striking in the afternoon light. Of course she’d go with butterflies. Butterflies suited her. She also had her long black hair done up in a complex arrangement that rivaled Sky’s braids in all the best ways. Finally, she’d applied purple lip paint, soft pink eyeshadow, and faint blush.
As Lydia approached him, her delicate brow furrowed as she met his gaze. “Is something the matter, lord?”
Drake recovered his faculties. “No, no problem. You ready to go?”
“I am. River has the rest of tonight’s planning well in hand.”
“And...” He struggled with how to say this without being weird. “You look nice.”
Her soft smile complimented her blush. “Thank you, lord. You look dashing as well.” She glanced at Hector. “You’ve done well tonight.”
The man bowed. “Thank you, mistress.”
Drake hadn’t ordered the man not to bow to others, just not to him. Best not to confuse his uncomplicated manservant with complicated orders. Still, as Drake glanced again at Lydia, he felt butterflies in his stomach as well, and... what?
Nothing at all. Every last one of his people looked fantastic tonight, and they were going to make the other manor lords envious. As they should. Gloomwood Manor forever!
“All right,” Drake said. “Anyone have any reason we can’t get this banquet over with?”
“Not a one, lord,” Lydia said. “With your permission, we should be off immediately. The capital guards wait now outside the doors to escort us to the banquet.”
“Then to the banquet we go. Remember, relax but stay alert. If we get attacked by kromians or mercenaries or, I don’t know, fucking demon squirrels, each of you knows where to go and who to protect. Now, let’s try and enjoy ourselves tonight. That’s an order.”
Emily thoughtfully tapped her lips. “If we had to choose, I wouldn’t mind being attacked by demon squirrels. I bet they’d be absolutely adorable!”
