The Baron waved from the steps as they set off into the city. Jet flicked his eyes to Gideon before the man could say anything. “We aren’t clearing up the city’s wyrm problem. We have a mission. There’s no need to put ourselves in unnecessary danger along the way. Especially not you. I can’t have you die before you get to the True Dragon.”

“Aww, Jet does care,” Gideon said, grinning.

“Gideon. I mean it,” Jet growled, narrowing his eyes at the other man.

“Fine, fine. It isn’t really danger, though. I can wipe them all out with a spell or two, especially if we get the jump on them,” Gideon argued.

“Gideon.”

“We don’t have to eradicate the whole nest, just cull them a little. Come on, Jet. They’re causing trouble for Amterdale. Aren’t you a soldier in the army? Isn’t it your job to protect the kingdom?”

“Right now, it’s my job to deliver you to the True Dragon. We don’t have time for distractions,” Jet replied firmly.

Gideon leaned in close to Elly and stage-whispered, “Did you hear him? Jet just called the lives of the people of Amterdale ‘distractions.’ Can you believe it? What would the people say if they heard?”

Elly frowned at Jet disapprovingly. “Jet, all lives are precious.”

Jet frowned at both of them. “More lives will be lost to the True Dragon if we slow down to kill the wyrms than will be saved if we eradicate every wyrm within a hundred miles of Amterdale. We can’t waste time here.”

“A waste of time? Saving lives is wasted time?” Gideon gasped dramatically, a hand to his mouth. He flicked his eyes at Elly, and a small smile touched his face at the sight of her glaring disapprovingly at Jet.

“Don’t act like you care. Elly, don’t listen to him. All he wants is the Baron’s payday. He doesn’t care about the people of Amterdale,” Jet declared, jabbing a finger at Gideon.

“Jet! How dare you. I obviously care deeply about this city. Gold, what gold? I only care about saving lives. Definitely not about all the gold the Baron’s going to give us,” Gideon said, pulling himself up to his full height. He still couldn’t look down on the taller man, but he tried anyways, tipping his head back to look down his nose.

“Regardless of Gideon’s motivations, is it not noble to save these people? Noblesse oblige, what happened to that?” Elly said, crossing her arms.

“I’m the second son of a destitute Count. I inherit nothing. That’s why I was sent to the military. I’m not very noblesse, nor do I feel particularly oblige,” Jet returned.

Gideon clicked his tongue and shook his head. “How nobility has fallen. How sad, how sad.”

Jet held up the pendant. “That’s enough of that. I’m going to get some food.”

“Jet, no. This isn’t something you can simply wave off. Are we truly going to turn a blind eye to these people’s suffering?” Elly asked, gripping her staff.

“Yeah, yeah. We can’t do that,” Gideon agreed.

Jet jabbed the pendant and turned on his heel even as Gideon clasped a hand to his neck. “Dismissed. Do whatever you like, but leave me out of it. And Gideon, if I sense you getting anywhere near the wyrm nest…” He waved the pendant threateningly over his shoulder.

“Yeah, yeah. Blah, blah, blah,” Gideon grumbled. He rolled his eyes at Jet’s back and wandered away, muttering under his breath about gold and nobility these days.

This story originates from Royal Road. Ensure the author gets the support they deserve by reading it there.

“Eh? Are you really letting him go? Isn’t he a prisoner?” Kat asked, bounding after Jet.

“If he does anything seriously wrong, I’ll know. If he does something only slightly wrong… I’d rather not know. He’s an adult. He can wipe his own damn ass,” Jet snarled. I’m exhausted. Even if he’s a prisoner, I can’t simply give him a beating like I would with an unruly private. We need him to cooperate, and if I beat him, he might just keel over and die, as skinny and weak as he is. Dammit, I really want to, though! His fist clenched subconsciously. Jet ground his teeth, a vein pumping in his forehead.

He shook his head and charged toward a tavern. I need a break. After everything I’ve been through, anyone would need a break!

Elly looked at Kat and frowned. “How did you know Gideon was a prisoner?”

Kat looked at her blankly for a moment, then tilted her head and pointed at her neck. “The collar?”

“It is pretty obvious,” Jet said, glaring over his shoulder at Elly.

“Are collars… commonly used in the kingdom? I know this isn’t the first time a collar has been used, but still…” Elly muttered, mostly to herself. She caught a glimpse of Jet’s stormy expression and sighed. I guess now isn’t the time. Later, once he’s relaxed a bit.

Gideon stomped away, still muttering to himself. He turned a corner, then another corner, then finally stopped and looked back. At the sight of no one following him, he beamed and raced off, grumbling instantly forgotten. “At last! I finally annoyed him enough to escape. Time to find myself a dancer!”

He hurried through the streets, letting his hood fly back. His shoulder-length black hair flew on the wind as he sped along. In an extraordinarily good mood, he hummed to himself, a spring in his step. A woman’s voice caught his ear, and he paused, listening. After a moment, he sighed and shook his head. “A singer is good, too, but that woman has no bardic magic.”

Gideon raised a hand to his chin, thoughtful. “Although, right now… I’ll even take a singer without bardic magic, as long as she’s the right shape.”

He turned down a side street, following the sound of the voice. At the far end, he came out to a small crowd gathered around a busty, wide-hipped woman. She took a step forward, her heavenly voice vibrating on the air.

Gideon frowned. He shook his head and hurried on. “No, no. All wrong.”

Darting from road to road, tavern to tavern, he took in every singer and dancer in the city. None fit his qualifications. He frowned over and over again, muttering to himself the whole time.

“No, no, her backside is simply too large.”

“She’s slender, but look at those hands! Small hands are a must.”

“Hmm… perfect, perfect… no, look at the gleam in her eyes. She’d never agree to such a thing.”

“Him? He’s small, and slender, and of course no tits, but… argh, the hands!”

Ten streets later, Gideon leaned against the wall, panting. He pushed his hair back and wiped the sweat off his brow. Staring at the sky, he cried, “Is there anyone in this city who’s good enough for me?”

“Oh darlin’, I’ll be good enough for you tonight,” a woman cooed, stepping out of the shadows. She cocked her hip and looked him up and down, ever-so-slightly adjusting the silk scarf at her neck so he had a full view of her voluptuousness.

Thunder clapped in Gideon’s brain. He staggered forward, eyes blurry. Slowly, head bowed, he approached the woman and put both hands on her shoulders. The soft scent of her perfume tickled her nose, and pale flesh loomed up at him.

“You alright, sweets?” the woman asked, giving him a look. A heavily muscled man peered from around the corner, arms crossed warningly.

All at once, he looked up. His eyes flashed, bright as lightning. Gideon smiled at the woman, clapping her on the shoulders. “A professional! What am I doing, running around the festival looking at amateurs? I need a professional!”

“That so, hun,” the woman said, subtly stepping aside to escape his grasp.

Gideon ignored her, instead hurrying on. If there’s hookers here, then that means, that means—

He raced around the corner. Gaudy signs hung from every building. Men and women laughed, jostling shoulders and flashing skin. Alcohol hung thick on the air, sweet and intoxicating, mingling with sweat and smoke and a thousand other strange scents.

Gideon threw his arms out and laughed to the sky. “Yes! Here, here for sure!”

Passerby backed away from him. One of the men held his woman a little more tightly, and the lone women frowned at him.

Coming back to himself, he put a hand on his chin, staring at the surrounding buildings instead. “Where to start? Where to start…?”

“… in the land! Come to The Exotic, and see dancers from the strangest of lands! Exotic dancers to fulfil your every fantasy! Feel the power of true bardic magic tonight!”

Gideon’s ears pricked. He turned toward the caller, a man in a fine, if worn, suit and a ragged top hat. “Bardic magic?”

“Indeed, good sir! Bardic magic, the likes of which you’ve never seen!” the caller confirmed, his smile the same as ever. For reasons known only to himself, he tossed a wink at Gideon.

Mind made up, Gideon nodded to himself. Wasting not another second, he rushed into The Exotic.