Packing for a seven day trip in a convoy of two carriages, four wagons, carriage horses, pack horses, a zarovian vanguard, and a gaggle of domestic employees was an ordeal Drake was very glad he did not have to organize. Everyone was scurrying around like they had their hair on fire, or probably, their shorts frozen. Valentia must be cracking the whip.
His only job as a manor lord was to pack for himself, because his butler would have done that and his butler remained mostly dead. Packing was difficult when he had to shuffle everywhere, staring at his feet, but he managed. No furniture attacked him.
He settled on three silverweave outfits (a black one, a blue one, and a red one), a couple of pairs of good travel boots, and a small ball of soap. They would have soap in the capital, but it was going to be a seven day trip. He didn’t want to smell like ass when he arrived.
Also, he packed Zuri’s dossiers—he’d have seven days on the road to read up on the other manor lords and their people, which he intended to use—and Zuri’s roster, as well as some other books on table manners, lordly etiquette, and speechmaking (noble court style) recommended by Zuri herself. Unfortunately Kyra, the blood thrall he’d mortified by accidentally asking about her toe-sucking fetish, delivered those books.
She dashed off the moment the books were in his hands.
Drake also stuck Sky’s mirror back in its magic box and closed it. The box would be coming along with him. With luck, he could chat with Sky on the road in the privacy of his carriage. She hadn’t mentioned a cabal summons last night, and it seemed like something she would mention. She was likely scrambling right now as well. She could know things he didn’t.
What he missed most, as he finished packing for his first trip in manor lord style, was a real toothbrush. When he’d asked his housekeeper for one after his return from Skybreak Manor, he’d just received a blank stare. He still had his wooden stick with its small tub of foul-tasting paste. It made him want to gag whenever he tried to scrub with it.
Yet while his teeth felt scummy, it was encouraging to see everyone else still had their teeth. He’d already solved the bad breath problem by chewing the minty leaves the manor had in abundance. Perhaps he should ask for a discreet lesson on teeth cleaning with a stick.
Olivia soon arrived to act as his guide. He set off with his eyes closed and her assurance no one would see him being led by the hand. He felt cold air the moment they left the manor. He soon felt grass and cobblestone beneath his feet. Finally, Olivia stopped him.
“We’re here, lord.”
Drake opened his eyes to find a line of wagon, wagon, wagon, carriage, carriage, and wagon, arrayed by his stables in sight of the closed front gates. People in servant garb, travel garb, and even snazzy uniforms scurried about while multiple armored zarovians lounged about. Those leaned on long spears or holding clubs and shields, tails idly twitching.
Two horses were even now being attached to the harnesses in front of each wagon or carriage, and more horses were coming up laden with packs and bags. Drake spotted Jeremy, Anna’s father, among those preparing the horses, and the man looked both focused and calm. Drake hadn’t been able to check on him recently. He was glad the stables agreed with him.
If he was being generous, Jeremy might even look a touch happy. Taking Anna to the capital without taking her father felt rude, but the man really was better off here. Given what Drake was heading into, he wasn’t about to leave his new teleporter behind. She had already made a new recall circle at Gloomwood Manor he could use if he abruptly needed to return.
“I wish I was going with you,” Olivia said regretfully. “I can’t protect you from here.”
“You can protect the manor,” he reminded her. “Your rarity is even better in a fight than Valentia’s, and all the other battle maids will be with me. That means you’re in charge of everyone still here. If they give you any lip, you tell them I said listen.”
Her blue eyes widened dangerously. “I’m going to be in charge of the manor?”
“You can handle it.” Drake gripped her shoulder as he would any other soldier. “You have a powerful rarity, a strong will, and a work ethic I envy. While I’m away, I trust you to guard and protect Gloomwood Manor just like I would.”
With each word out of his mouth, Olivia visibly stood taller. Her nervous look morphed into firm determination. “I will not let you down, lord.” His previously timid blond maid now looked like she was ready to punch a zarovian in the snout.
“And I promise,” Drake said, “I’ll take care of your father.”
She smiled. “With respect, lord... I think he will be taking care of you.”
Drake thumped her shoulder—gently, so as not to unsettle her—and shuffled off. He kept his eyes on his feet until he reached his carriage, then looked up. A young man dressed in a snazzy uniform snapped to attention. He opened the ornate door to his new ride.
Drake remembered he had a footman. This was that guy. He should probably check his name on Zuri’s roster during the ride so he could address him properly.
Before he stepped inside, however, Drake glanced back at the front of Gloomwood Manor. His manor, dark and ominous and hauntingly Victorian as ever. This odd, strange place really did feel like home, even after this short time. Leaving it felt like leaving home.
He was going to miss this place. His manor. His home. But he couldn’t let the other manor lords make a bunch of decisions without him, and if he played his cards right in Korhaurbauten, he might even make some new alliances. Knowing that Sky had his back was terrific, but the more allies he made, the less chance anyone would dare fuck with him.
Drake offered his footman a respectful nod, braced himself, and stepped up into the midnight-black carriage with two backpacks slung across each side. One was his travel pack. The other was his backpack of spy missives. Those he dared not let out of his sight.
In addition to browsing through the horde of notes from his many spies, he’d also work to get a handle on dates on his trip and the basics of time tracking beyond each day. How they represented weeks, months, years, moons, and so on. He didn’t even know what year it was.
It still bothered him that he could read books and other writing just fine despite it being in an otherworld language, but his innate understanding of how to read apparently didn’t extend to reading dates. The numbers looked like the same numbers from Earth, but how could they be? This was a different realm. A brain teaser for later.
Once he was in his carriage, the door slammed and the curtains remained down. There was another Zippo candle inside, but he left it off. He wasn’t sure if it ran on oil or magic, but he saw no need to waste either. Even through the dim and drawn curtains, he had light.
There was nothing to do then but wait. He tapped one foot impatiently and grimaced as his stomach audibly grumbled. He’d had no time for lunch with all the running around, and they likely wouldn’t eat until supper. What would they eat on the road?
Finally, the sound of two voices perked him up. The first was Raylan. The second sounded like Korrag. He hadn’t seen the orange zarovian since he’d ordered the lizardman to haul Samuel’s bloody corpse off to Raylan’s infirmary. Perhaps they’d struck up a bond.
The door to his carriage opened. As he’d ordered, Raylan and Korrag manhandled a sheet-wrapped Samuel inside and settled him onto the couch/bed up front. Drake was shocked to see that his butler looked fully human now, flesh and all. He even had a scruffy brown beard.
The burnish potion he had ordered Raylan to force down Samuel’s throat must have supercharged his physical regeneration rarity just like Drake had hoped. He would have done that days ago if he’d known such potions existed. There’d been no reason to ask, and Raylan likely hadn’t suggested the potions since the old lord had been a penny pincher.
Once Samuel was settled, Raylan nodded to Drake. “Let me know if he wakes up during the journey, lord. I’ll be a few wagons back.”
Drake leaned forward on his bench. “You’re coming with us to the capital?”
Raylan frowned. “Do you wish me to stay here? Valentia gave orders—”
“No, no, I’m plenty happy to have a good healer along,” Drake assured him. “Just taking stock since I put Val in charge of organizing our trip. Have you been to the capital before?”
“I have not, lord, and I’m very much looking forward to it. The waters off the shoreline are supposed to be as clear as a forest lake. They are said to be the perfect temperature.”
“That sounds nice,” Drake agreed. “I’ll let you get back to it.”
Raylan inclined his head and stepped out. As Korrag moved to leave, however, Drake leaned forward. “Hey, Korrag. Long time. How ya been?”
The orange zarovian pivoted his big snout around and blinked at Drake in what looked like lizardman surprise. “You remember Korrag?”
“Sure I do.” Drake smiled. “So you’re Raylan’s assistant now?”
“Was already awake. Butler is not heavy.” Korrag shrugged. “Raylan has nice snacks.”
Motivation was motivation. Drake wouldn’t begrudge Korrag his. “So you’re in the vanguard heading to the capital as well?”
Korrag nodded.
“What about Xutag? He here too?”
“Already has comedy plan for camp. Very funny.”
Drake chortled. “I absolutely cannot wait to see that.”
Korrag blinked, then eased forward. “Any snacks in here?”
“Not in here, buddy. But hey, if I come across any, I’ll let you know.”
The orange zarovian nodded. “Good.”
Korrag retracted himself, but the door remained open. A moment later Lydia carefully stepped in, dressed in a clean maid outfit and visibly covered in sweat. Drake resisted the urge to help her sit down. She would want to do this on her own.
He scooted aside to give her room on the couch/bed beside him. Samuel took up the entire other couch. She slammed the door and gratefully collapsed into the seat.
Before Drake could ask her how she was feeling, the door popped open again. Emily, grinning wide, stumbled in after her. She was back in a nice clean battle maid outfit as well.
“Afternoon, lord!” Emily said loudly. Too loudly.
Drake eyed her up and down. “You’re looking better.”
“I am! Thank you!” She pouted visibly. “Though next time, you save more assassins for me. It’s not fair you got to kill three of them. I’m your murdermaid, remember?”
“I remember. And next time someone tries to kill me, I’ll give you and Chopper the first hack at them.”
“Good.” Emily grinned wide. She kept grinning. She didn’t leave.
“Is there anything else?” Lydia asked pointedly.
“Oh, no. I suppose not.” Emily stepped back. “You two have fun! Traveling together.”
She slammed the carriage door with a loud crack. After waiting a moment to see if she’d return, Drake glanced at Lydia. She was taking deep breaths with her eyes closed. Sweat rolled down her face and had slicked back her dark hair.
“Are you all right?” he asked in concern.
“I am fine, lord.” Lydia opened her eyes and stared at him. “I can still flutterstep.”
He breathed a sigh of relief. That was why she was sweating so profusely. Raylan had healed both of them equally, but Lydia must have tired herself out testing her rarity. He was glad to know his rarity duplicated hers rather than stealing it permanently.
“Oh!” Lydia stiffened as if she’d only just remembered. “I should call back Emily.”
“It’s fine.” Drake glanced at Samuel. He could swear the man’s beard had grown incrementally in the last few minutes. “I don’t think I’ll be absorbing her rarity today.”
“Do you plan to master flutterstep?”
“No. If we’re walking into a nest of mud vipers, as Nicole put it, I think the best rarity for me might be that one over there.” He pointed at Samuel.
Lydia nodded sagely. “Physical regeneration. If you can acquire and burnish it, you will be formidable indeed.” She sighed. “And I will worry a slight bit less.”
“There’s something else, though,” Drake said. “I’m pretty sure the dire rat is gone.”
“How can you be sure?”
“I just am. I don’t feel it any longer. I can’t explain it, and I don’t think I understood it was there while I had it, but something feels different. It’s gone.”
She grimaced. “I am sorry, lord. Your dire rat was a terror to behold.”
“That was the problem. I couldn’t control it, and I’d just eat anyone. It was only good for berserker raging my way out of a no-win situation, and ideally, I’d like to not get into those in the first place. Also, eating people sucks. I don’t ever want to taste man guts again.”
“And flutterstep? Can you feel that?”
“I can. When I woke up this morning, the air felt palpably different. Lighter? And also, even when I’m standing still, it’s like the ground is slightly shifting beneath my feet.”
Lydia nodded. “I’ve never heard anyone describe it before, but the way you have... yes. That is what it feels like.”
“It’s a pretty badass rarity. You’re good with it. But I think I’ll leave it to someone who can handle warp drive, at least until I have a few years to practice.”
Lydia smiled once more. “So now we know for certain. You can acquire any rarity from any person with whom you mix blood and then burnish it. That is a powerful rarity.”
“Seems that way.”
“Also, it seems well suited to you.”
That was interesting. “Why do you say that?”
“Were you to mix blood with any thrall in your manor to duplicate their rarity, you would risk giving them control over us. Had you not altered the blood pact as you did when you arrived, mixing blood with any thrall would have been a grave risk.”
Drake frowned. “That’s not why I did it.”
“I know,” Lydia assured him. “And had you made the decree to change the blood pact now that you know the strength of your rarity, I would have questioned your motives.”
Drake snorted. “I would too, come to think of it.”
“Yet I never have. Questioned your motives, I mean.”
“Thanks for that. And needless to say, you backing me up has been invaluable. I doubt anyone would have ever trusted me if you hadn’t spoken up for me when I arrived.”
Lydia nodded. “And since we have not spoken of it in a few days, let me be clear about something else. You are doing well, lord. If you continue to gather allies and gain power as you have been so far, we could accomplish quite a lot together in a few years.”
Drake leaned back in his seat. “That sounds like a plan to me.”
Her hand lightly brushed across his. The moment he looked her way, she quickly pulled hers away. He raised an eyebrow at her odd expression. “Something else on your mind?”
“Just this.” Lydia took a breath. “I know you must miss everyone you knew back in your own world. I would not blame you if you someday wished to return home. But so long as you remain here with us, I will continue to aid you no matter who stands against us. By choice.”
“Never had a doubt,” Drake assured her with a grin. “Still, that is nice to hear.”
Packing for a seven day trip in a convoy of two carriages, four wagons, carriage horses, pack horses, a zarovian vanguard, and a gaggle of domestic employees was an ordeal Drake was very glad he did not have to organize. Everyone was scurrying around like they had their hair on fire, or probably, their shorts frozen. Valentia must be cracking the whip.
His only job as a manor lord was to pack for himself, because his butler would have done that and his butler remained mostly dead. Packing was difficult when he had to shuffle everywhere, staring at his feet, but he managed. No furniture attacked him.
He settled on three silverweave outfits (a black one, a blue one, and a red one), a couple of pairs of good travel boots, and a small ball of soap. They would have soap in the capital, but it was going to be a seven day trip. He didn’t want to smell like ass when he arrived.
Also, he packed Zuri’s dossiers—he’d have seven days on the road to read up on the other manor lords and their people, which he intended to use—and Zuri’s roster, as well as some other books on table manners, lordly etiquette, and speechmaking (noble court style) recommended by Zuri herself. Unfortunately Kyra, the blood thrall he’d mortified by accidentally asking about her toe-sucking fetish, delivered those books.
She dashed off the moment the books were in his hands.
Drake also stuck Sky’s mirror back in its magic box and closed it. The box would be coming along with him. With luck, he could chat with Sky on the road in the privacy of his carriage. She hadn’t mentioned a cabal summons last night, and it seemed like something she would mention. She was likely scrambling right now as well. She could know things he didn’t.
What he missed most, as he finished packing for his first trip in manor lord style, was a real toothbrush. When he’d asked his housekeeper for one after his return from Skybreak Manor, he’d just received a blank stare. He still had his wooden stick with its small tub of foul-tasting paste. It made him want to gag whenever he tried to scrub with it.
Yet while his teeth felt scummy, it was encouraging to see everyone else still had their teeth. He’d already solved the bad breath problem by chewing the minty leaves the manor had in abundance. Perhaps he should ask for a discreet lesson on teeth cleaning with a stick.
Olivia soon arrived to act as his guide. He set off with his eyes closed and her assurance no one would see him being led by the hand. He felt cold air the moment they left the manor. He soon felt grass and cobblestone beneath his feet. Finally, Olivia stopped him.
“We’re here, lord.”
Drake opened his eyes to find a line of wagon, wagon, wagon, carriage, carriage, and wagon, arrayed by his stables in sight of the closed front gates. People in servant garb, travel garb, and even snazzy uniforms scurried about while multiple armored zarovians lounged about. Those leaned on long spears or holding clubs and shields, tails idly twitching.
Two horses were even now being attached to the harnesses in front of each wagon or carriage, and more horses were coming up laden with packs and bags. Drake spotted Jeremy, Anna’s father, among those preparing the horses, and the man looked both focused and calm. Drake hadn’t been able to check on him recently. He was glad the stables agreed with him.
If he was being generous, Jeremy might even look a touch happy. Taking Anna to the capital without taking her father felt rude, but the man really was better off here. Given what Drake was heading into, he wasn’t about to leave his new teleporter behind. She had already made a new recall circle at Gloomwood Manor he could use if he abruptly needed to return.
“I wish I was going with you,” Olivia said regretfully. “I can’t protect you from here.”
“You can protect the manor,” he reminded her. “Your rarity is even better in a fight than Valentia’s, and all the other battle maids will be with me. That means you’re in charge of everyone still here. If they give you any lip, you tell them I said listen.”
Her blue eyes widened dangerously. “I’m going to be in charge of the manor?”
“You can handle it.” Drake gripped her shoulder as he would any other soldier. “You have a powerful rarity, a strong will, and a work ethic I envy. While I’m away, I trust you to guard and protect Gloomwood Manor just like I would.”
With each word out of his mouth, Olivia visibly stood taller. Her nervous look morphed into firm determination. “I will not let you down, lord.” His previously timid blond maid now looked like she was ready to punch a zarovian in the snout.
“And I promise,” Drake said, “I’ll take care of your father.”
She smiled. “With respect, lord... I think he will be taking care of you.”
Drake thumped her shoulder—gently, so as not to unsettle her—and shuffled off. He kept his eyes on his feet until he reached his carriage, then looked up. A young man dressed in a snazzy uniform snapped to attention. He opened the ornate door to his new ride.
Drake remembered he had a footman. This was that guy. He should probably check his name on Zuri’s roster during the ride so he could address him properly.
Before he stepped inside, however, Drake glanced back at the front of Gloomwood Manor. His manor, dark and ominous and hauntingly Victorian as ever. This odd, strange place really did feel like home, even after this short time. Leaving it felt like leaving home.
He was going to miss this place. His manor. His home. But he couldn’t let the other manor lords make a bunch of decisions without him, and if he played his cards right in Korhaurbauten, he might even make some new alliances. Knowing that Sky had his back was terrific, but the more allies he made, the less chance anyone would dare fuck with him.
Drake offered his footman a respectful nod, braced himself, and stepped up into the midnight-black carriage with two backpacks slung across each side. One was his travel pack. The other was his backpack of spy missives. Those he dared not let out of his sight.
In addition to browsing through the horde of notes from his many spies, he’d also work to get a handle on dates on his trip and the basics of time tracking beyond each day. How they represented weeks, months, years, moons, and so on. He didn’t even know what year it was.
It still bothered him that he could read books and other writing just fine despite it being in an otherworld language, but his innate understanding of how to read apparently didn’t extend to reading dates. The numbers looked like the same numbers from Earth, but how could they be? This was a different realm. A brain teaser for later.
Once he was in his carriage, the door slammed and the curtains remained down. There was another Zippo candle inside, but he left it off. He wasn’t sure if it ran on oil or magic, but he saw no need to waste either. Even through the dim and drawn curtains, he had light.
There was nothing to do then but wait. He tapped one foot impatiently and grimaced as his stomach audibly grumbled. He’d had no time for lunch with all the running around, and they likely wouldn’t eat until supper. What would they eat on the road?
Finally, the sound of two voices perked him up. The first was Raylan. The second sounded like Korrag. He hadn’t seen the orange zarovian since he’d ordered the lizardman to haul Samuel’s bloody corpse off to Raylan’s infirmary. Perhaps they’d struck up a bond.
The door to his carriage opened. As he’d ordered, Raylan and Korrag manhandled a sheet-wrapped Samuel inside and settled him onto the couch/bed up front. Drake was shocked to see that his butler looked fully human now, flesh and all. He even had a scruffy brown beard.
The burnish potion he had ordered Raylan to force down Samuel’s throat must have supercharged his physical regeneration rarity just like Drake had hoped. He would have done that days ago if he’d known such potions existed. There’d been no reason to ask, and Raylan likely hadn’t suggested the potions since the old lord had been a penny pincher.
Once Samuel was settled, Raylan nodded to Drake. “Let me know if he wakes up during the journey, lord. I’ll be a few wagons back.”
Drake leaned forward on his bench. “You’re coming with us to the capital?”
Raylan frowned. “Do you wish me to stay here? Valentia gave orders—”
“No, no, I’m plenty happy to have a good healer along,” Drake assured him. “Just taking stock since I put Val in charge of organizing our trip. Have you been to the capital before?”
“I have not, lord, and I’m very much looking forward to it. The waters off the shoreline are supposed to be as clear as a forest lake. They are said to be the perfect temperature.”
“That sounds nice,” Drake agreed. “I’ll let you get back to it.”
Raylan inclined his head and stepped out. As Korrag moved to leave, however, Drake leaned forward. “Hey, Korrag. Long time. How ya been?”
The orange zarovian pivoted his big snout around and blinked at Drake in what looked like lizardman surprise. “You remember Korrag?”
“Sure I do.” Drake smiled. “So you’re Raylan’s assistant now?”
“Was already awake. Butler is not heavy.” Korrag shrugged. “Raylan has nice snacks.”
Motivation was motivation. Drake wouldn’t begrudge Korrag his. “So you’re in the vanguard heading to the capital as well?”
Korrag nodded.
“What about Xutag? He here too?”
“Already has comedy plan for camp. Very funny.”
Drake chortled. “I absolutely cannot wait to see that.”
Korrag blinked, then eased forward. “Any snacks in here?”
“Not in here, buddy. But hey, if I come across any, I’ll let you know.”
The orange zarovian nodded. “Good.”
Korrag retracted himself, but the door remained open. A moment later Lydia carefully stepped in, dressed in a clean maid outfit and visibly covered in sweat. Drake resisted the urge to help her sit down. She would want to do this on her own.
He scooted aside to give her room on the couch/bed beside him. Samuel took up the entire other couch. She slammed the door and gratefully collapsed into the seat.
Before Drake could ask her how she was feeling, the door popped open again. Emily, grinning wide, stumbled in after her. She was back in a nice clean battle maid outfit as well.
“Afternoon, lord!” Emily said loudly. Too loudly.
Drake eyed her up and down. “You’re looking better.”
“I am! Thank you!” She pouted visibly. “Though next time, you save more assassins for me. It’s not fair you got to kill three of them. I’m your murdermaid, remember?”
“I remember. And next time someone tries to kill me, I’ll give you and Chopper the first hack at them.”
“Good.” Emily grinned wide. She kept grinning. She didn’t leave.
“Is there anything else?” Lydia asked pointedly.
“Oh, no. I suppose not.” Emily stepped back. “You two have fun! Traveling together.”
She slammed the carriage door with a loud crack. After waiting a moment to see if she’d return, Drake glanced at Lydia. She was taking deep breaths with her eyes closed. Sweat rolled down her face and had slicked back her dark hair.
“Are you all right?” he asked in concern.
“I am fine, lord.” Lydia opened her eyes and stared at him. “I can still flutterstep.”
He breathed a sigh of relief. That was why she was sweating so profusely. Raylan had healed both of them equally, but Lydia must have tired herself out testing her rarity. He was glad to know his rarity duplicated hers rather than stealing it permanently.
“Oh!” Lydia stiffened as if she’d only just remembered. “I should call back Emily.”
“It’s fine.” Drake glanced at Samuel. He could swear the man’s beard had grown incrementally in the last few minutes. “I don’t think I’ll be absorbing her rarity today.”
“Do you plan to master flutterstep?”
“No. If we’re walking into a nest of mud vipers, as Nicole put it, I think the best rarity for me might be that one over there.” He pointed at Samuel.
Lydia nodded sagely. “Physical regeneration. If you can acquire and burnish it, you will be formidable indeed.” She sighed. “And I will worry a slight bit less.”
“There’s something else, though,” Drake said. “I’m pretty sure the dire rat is gone.”
“How can you be sure?”
“I just am. I don’t feel it any longer. I can’t explain it, and I don’t think I understood it was there while I had it, but something feels different. It’s gone.”
She grimaced. “I am sorry, lord. Your dire rat was a terror to behold.”
“That was the problem. I couldn’t control it, and I’d just eat anyone. It was only good for berserker raging my way out of a no-win situation, and ideally, I’d like to not get into those in the first place. Also, eating people sucks. I don’t ever want to taste man guts again.”
“And flutterstep? Can you feel that?”
“I can. When I woke up this morning, the air felt palpably different. Lighter? And also, even when I’m standing still, it’s like the ground is slightly shifting beneath my feet.”
Lydia nodded. “I’ve never heard anyone describe it before, but the way you have... yes. That is what it feels like.”
“It’s a pretty badass rarity. You’re good with it. But I think I’ll leave it to someone who can handle warp drive, at least until I have a few years to practice.”
Lydia smiled once more. “So now we know for certain. You can acquire any rarity from any person with whom you mix blood and then burnish it. That is a powerful rarity.”
“Seems that way.”
“Also, it seems well suited to you.”
That was interesting. “Why do you say that?”
“Were you to mix blood with any thrall in your manor to duplicate their rarity, you would risk giving them control over us. Had you not altered the blood pact as you did when you arrived, mixing blood with any thrall would have been a grave risk.”
Drake frowned. “That’s not why I did it.”
“I know,” Lydia assured him. “And had you made the decree to change the blood pact now that you know the strength of your rarity, I would have questioned your motives.”
Drake snorted. “I would too, come to think of it.”
“Yet I never have. Questioned your motives, I mean.”
“Thanks for that. And needless to say, you backing me up has been invaluable. I doubt anyone would have ever trusted me if you hadn’t spoken up for me when I arrived.”
Lydia nodded. “And since we have not spoken of it in a few days, let me be clear about something else. You are doing well, lord. If you continue to gather allies and gain power as you have been so far, we could accomplish quite a lot together in a few years.”
Drake leaned back in his seat. “That sounds like a plan to me.”
Her hand lightly brushed across his. The moment he looked her way, she quickly pulled hers away. He raised an eyebrow at her odd expression. “Something else on your mind?”
“Just this.” Lydia took a breath. “I know you must miss everyone you knew back in your own world. I would not blame you if you someday wished to return home. But so long as you remain here with us, I will continue to aid you no matter who stands against us. By choice.”
“Never had a doubt,” Drake assured her with a grin. “Still, that is nice to hear.”
