Caleb woke me up by tearing the covers off and trumpeting in his booming voice,

“What a wonderful day for a run!”

I groaned. Braeyln flung open the curtains. Light poured in.

“Why?” I groaned, swinging my legs to the edge of the bed.

Caleb threw my gambison at me.

“Full armor today!” he said.

I groaned some more.

“At least let me dress without her,” I said, motioning to his elven assistant. I was in my small clothes, and a shirt.

“Oh, she’s family, no need to be shy,” Caleb said, tossing my pants at me.

I hiked them on and fastened my belt. Braeyln’s eyes raked across me, and she shrugged, as if she were not particularly impressed. I just scrunched my face up in derision, and pulled my gambison on. She typed something in her slate.

Great.

For what it was worth I had gained a decent amount of muscle definition. So I felt like I looked pretty good.

Past month and a half went by quickly. Bernie found the spy almost immediately, and murdered him real good, so it’s just been training, and getting to know the people in the castle after that. I’d leveled up to 7, and Bernie and Rachel 9. More on that later.

Bernie thought that there may be more spies hiding in and among the king’s supporters, but I figured we were in the clear. We were all more focused on leveling up for the catacombs fight.

The Witch June was still out there. And thanks to Bernie’s knife of tracking we knew exactly where.

Caleb helped me into my chain shirt, gauntlet, greaves, and breastplate. It was mythril, so it barely made a noise, and was much lighter than my conventional chainmail armor. I still didn’t want to run in it.

“Come on,” I said as they finished getting me in the armor, “can’t we do the armor tomorrow?”

I had a splitting headache. I only drank at night now — baby steps.

Caleb laughed.

“Every stat point you earn on your own is yours to keep. DM can’t take it away from you.”

“He can do that?”

“Maybe!”

I rolled my eyes.

We ran through the halls.

Bernie ran beside us. I smiled at her. She smiled back. I hadn’t confronted her over all the things we’ve left unsaid, but we were continuing to build trust.

We’d only kissed once since that last time in the tavern. She’d crawled through my window, and we kissed in my bed. I asked her why we didn’t do that more often, and she said ‘don’t make things complicated.’ Whatever the hell that meant.

I briefly thought back to the moment Caleb found out about us, and his advice that we take use of his ‘supplies closet.’ Not only was it regularly resupplied with cheese, wine, and olive oil, it had special tea to help with cramps, and condoms. Apparently goatskin condoms were far more comfortable than they sounded.

Not that I’d had an opportunity to use them.

I almost ran straight into a maid carrying tea. Dodging in mythril armor wasn’t that much harder than without, but the mobility round the hips was less. I turned to the side and muttered an apology.

“Close one!” Caleb said.

I ran harder to catch up. Bernie ran right next to me. And so did Braelyn.

Bernadette had an easier time dodging, on account of her new armor. It was black and red silksteel, augmented by a pair of magic bracers. The material swathed her in black fabric that provided decent protection from damn near everything but bludgeoning.

I tried to steady my breath. We had a long way to go.

Rachel noticed us from her perch leaning against the wall talking to a maid supporting a tray of pastries. She whispered something into her ear that made the maid giggle, then snagged a pastry with a wink.

She fell into formation in front of me.

“Good morning!” I said.

“You’re late,” she said, before taking a bite.

I just shrugged, and we ran.

“Beta formation!” I said.

Bernie reached out her hand, and Rachel grabbed it, before she tossed her to the wall. Bernie landed easily, then leapt the door frame as she ran along the stone wall vertically.

A maid with a plate of sausages passed, and Bernie grabbed one as she ran.

“Here come the stairs!” Rachel warned.

I cursed despite myself. Running down stairs without falling on your ass wasn’t trivial.

Bernie left us behind as she leapt from wall to wall down the spiraling staircase. Rachel jumped over a dog. I stopped to let it pass.

“You’re falling behind!” Caleb reminded me.

“Charlie formation!” I yelled.

I jumped. Braelyn turned the last flight of stairs into ice. Instead of landing solidly on my feet, and sliding the rest of the way, my feet kept going forward and I fell on my ass.

Kept sliding though.

Soon as I hit the ground floor, I stood and kept running.

“Close,” Bernie said, after leaping from a wall and landing, running beside me across the lawn.

The next bit was practically leisurely, as we circled the inner courtyard.

“Hey, Princess,” Rachel said as she slowed to run alongside Braelyn.

“Good morning,” she replied, with a practically businesslike tone.

“Those new robes?” Rachel asked.

“No, they are not.”

“Well, they compliment your figure well,” Rachel said.

“I should hope so,” Braelyn replied, the ghost of a smile turning her lips, “the tailoring on steelsilk is murder.”

I powered ahead to get a better listen to the conversation.

“What am I missing?” I asked.

Rachel rolled her eyes, and ran ahead.

Braelyn and I ran next to each other for a bit.

“She drinking less, you think?” I asked, referring of course to Rachel.

“I hope so,” Braelyn said. “She knows how the king dislikes sloppiness.”

And by that, she meant she didn’t like it. They’d apparently had some kind of argument about it last week. When I asked Rachel what had happened, she just said she had ‘behaved unbecoming,’ and refused to say more.

“Why does she call you ‘Princess’ all the time,” I asked.

This story has been stolen from Royal Road. If you read it on Amazon, please report it

“My sister is the queen,” she answered.

“Really?” I said. I hadn’t quite gotten the politics of the castle down yet.

“I am technically royalty,” she replied. “But I have renounced my participation at court outside my duties to the king.”

“What does that mean?”

She just raised her eyebrows as if the rest were obvious, and began to slow, increasing the distance between us.

Soon came the part I dreaded. The other side of the courtyard, and the stairs up.

“Can we stop first?” I called ahead to Caleb.

“Not unless you want me to announce your run time to the official chronicler!”

“Why?” I gasped.

Braelyn was, of course, the official chronicler.

“We’re almost to breakfast!” he called back.

Soon after, I’d plopped down in a seat, alongside the rest. The queen was here too, looking beautiful and radiant as ever, blonde hair shining in the sun from the long windows. She looked remarkably like Braelyn, but more angular in features, more elegant.

Caleb’s daughter, Mia, Caleb’s newly born granddaughter, Ava, and his son in law Uchechi, were here too, along with a wet nurse named Gillian. They were fine. Mia had her father’s complexion, her mother’s good looks, and an even, quiet temperament that garnered respect. Uchechi was a sometimes brash, mountain of a man with an easy smile, dark skin, and an eyepatch that reminded all who saw it, that he had been a man of violence.

Apparently, he captained the ship that tried to ransom Mia to Caleb. The king took his eye in a duel, then he made him go privateer. How the romance with Mia happened was a story I’d yet to ask.

The newly born Ava was mostly a blob that slept, or screamed in equal measure. Caleb was obsessed with her. Doting on her being the only thing he seemed to love as much as working out.

The staff served breakfast, and we tucked in.

Caleb had brought American food to the castle, and the food was American style biscuits, gravy, sausage, pancakes, beef strips that tasted very much like bacon. It was a bit of home that melted my heart.

Caleb knew the value of good food.

Now, if only this place had coffee. A man poured some black tea for me, which I was grateful for, but it wasn’t the same.

If you had all of this, why would you want to leave? I wondered if maybe some of his failure to defeat the Evil Queen relied as much on his interest in staying here. Then I set that idea aside.

Later, I pulled out my slate to check my stats.

Beznik of the Red Hand the level 3 Mageknight and level 4 War Bard

Hit Points 54, Armor Class 19 (Halfplate +2, shield)

STR 12 (+1) DEX 10 (+0) CON 14 (+2)

INT 13 (+1) WIS 10 (+0) CHA 16 (+3)

Items: Adventurers’ Kit, Mythril Half Plate +2, Crossbow

Abilities from Fighter: Adrenaline Rush (170% time dilation, double movement speed) and Second Chance (Twice per day heal +25% HP), Sympathetic Weapon (you may place a weapon you have sympathy with in a dimensional pocket space and remove it at will). Spellcasting.

Abilities from Bard: Dazzling Strikes (weapons attacks give off sparks, potentially distracting opponents). Inspiring Words (+60% movement speed, 10% instant healing, and +30% extra damage modifier to a party member of your choice). Student of War (extra weapon damage equal to CHA bonus). Spellcasting.

Skills: History, Performance, Persuasion, Social Drinking

I had yet to select a weapon to use my ‘sympathy’ ability on. Caleb promised to let me look at the royal armory when I was ready. Apparently most of the good stuff he had given to his sons. But I had to imagine he had something better than my plain and dull not-magic sword or my crossbow. Again, I felt the loss of the crossbow Captain Wen had destroyed.

After breakfast, Caleb and I sparred with wooden training swords in full armor. I had a leather cap I wore at such times. He wore his full helm.

It was sort of like how I imagined sparring with Bruce Lee. He was a genius with a blade, but even holding back, his ‘teaching’ was like getting kicked by a mule. The man was strong. Maybe even stronger than Rachel.

Speaking of, Rachel practiced wrestling techniques with Lieutenant Gru’ulna. He was an orc man with the largest set of shoulders I’d ever seen. Even with the belt, she was quite outmatched.

Bernie spent time with Caleb’s spymaster, who I’d yet to meet. Apparently they taught social manipulation and history. She was still convinced that there were spies in the castle. ‘By my estimate it must be at least six,’ she’d said. Caleb called her paranoid, but not to her face.

There had been no more murders or poisonings after that last spy’d been found, but I supposed that they could be biding their time.

After training, Caleb asked to take me on a walk around the city. When I asked if that was dangerous he just said, “I am not afraid to walk my city.”

Braelyn stayed behind in the castle to tend to some business, and outside the armored escort that followed several paces back it was just the two of us. We walked through the market, which sold the dregs of the week’s produce and goods. The smell of citrus and spices lingered.

“I want to talk to you about Bernadette,” he said.

“We’re not ready for condoms yet,” I replied.

He laughed.

“No I mean, she’s spinning out of control. I am worried for her.”

“Really?”

“Really. She hasn’t taken to the idleness of safety well. The second she doesn’t have something to focus on, some task, she’s going to get herself in trouble.”

“Aren’t we training for the catacombs fight?”

“We are,” he said with hesitation. “But once that is done, we will have some time before the army is ready to march on our enemies.”

“And we still have to get Mark,” I added.

“Sure. You two have been holding onto each other like driftwood in a storm, but you never stopped to tell her how you feel.”

“Right.”

“Do you even know how you feel?”

“I think I like her. I like her a lot.”

“Have you taken her on a date?”

“What do you mean?”

“Have you put any effort in at all to let her know?”

“I mean, I kissed her.”

“Plenty of men kiss women they don’t much care for. I don’t think that is enough to make your intentions known.”

“I don’t have intentions.”

“Perhaps you should discover some,” he said, not too sternly. I had the creeping feeling like maybe I was being lectured by a dad. “I don’t think that one date is going to fix all her issues. I think maybe going home is what she needs. But it couldn’t hurt. Sometimes we need to be reminded that there are those that care for us.”

We walked for some time and I thought about what he’d said. We passed some street performers in the middle of a play. It was a dramatic love confession scene. The hero was about to be put under some kind of awful spell by a black clad villain, and he was being marched to his doom. To her poignant confession he just replied, ‘I know.’

“Was that?” I began to ask.

“I consider myself something of a playwright,” he cut in. “Though you could say I did more ‘adaptation’ than writing.”

“Right, because that was just—”

“We call it, Strife Among the Stars, here. It is very popular with the small folk.”

I nodded and we continued on. This wasn’t too far removed from the time I sang Elvis songs to a gnome.

We eventually made it back to the castle. I said goodbye to Caleb and returned to my room for an early afternoon nap. On my bed were two notes. The first was from Dalara, and sealed with a seal of a lion. It read thus:

Dear Sir Breznik,

I cannot in good faith respond to your generous offer of the purchase of my ancestral sword for several reasons. The first of which is that it is being used by myself in defense of my person from the scourge of goblins. As you may have heard, the Kingswood does not fare well. My tavern did not survive these recent troubles.

Luckily for me, my sister, and my paramour, we have found ourselves in the employ of a band of mercenaries who march under the banner of the Black Lion. It’s awful work, but the pay is good, and the opportunity for vengeance is promising. Many of those who were displaced who did not run to the embrace of the King, have done so as well. I am told that my compatriot, a fetching young gnome with a skill for poisons by the name of Berryhop, was delighted to hear you are well.

I can’t say that I dislike receiving mail, but hopefully next time you have better tidings and news than your interest in my family’s heirlooms. I should think that the gnome at least would especially like to hear how you are doing, and I’d hate to disappoint her.

Write back with news of your travels, and maybe we can share our adventures as well.

With some hesitation,

Dalara

Well, that sucked. I hated that Dalara and Berryhop could be in harm’s way. And the fact that they’d joined the bandits we’d fought wasn’t something… well. That was concerning.

I didn’t regret the path our actions had taken. A destabilized Kingswood meant that they didn’t invade Caleb’s kingdom. But I don’t think any of that was much comfort to Dalara, who’d lost her business.

I hated moral ambiguity. Fighting a dragon came with less moral baggage.

The second envelope contained an amulet on a leather cord, and a tiny folded piece of paper. There was no seal on the envelope or note of who it came from. Once I read the letter it was clear why.

Dearest Zachary,

I hope your time with Caleb has been fun. Hopefully he isn’t working you too hard.

I often think of our brief moment by the lake, and I wonder what could have been had I had the courage to go with you. At times, I am filled with worry for your safety. And I cannot help you from so far away.

To remedy some of my concern, I have had one of my agents deliver a trinket to you. By itself it does nothing, but should you be in serious danger, break it, and you will be delivered an item that you may find useful.

Again, I do not trust to message you with the slates. But if that is the only way you can think to contact me, please do so.

Many fond regards,

Sofia

So this was bad news. The fact that the throne could get me a letter like this meant that Bernie was right. There were still spies in the castle.

Now, a more clever man than I, would have immediately gone to Caleb or Braelyn to get them to identify what this trinket was, and what it did. It could have been cursed. It could have contained some kind of demon. I had no idea what this thing did.

So the fact that I snapped it in half immediately, was very very stupid.

The amulet disintegrated into black dust that swirled out of my fingers. I cursed and vainly tried to catch hold of the black mist that swirled and grew, and eventually deposited an object on the bed, then dissipated.

The object on the bed was a black sword with rubies set in the hilt.