Magic Control has advanced to Rank A.

Body Reconfigurement has advanced to Rank A.

Dancing has advanced to Rank C.

Reward: +?? EXP.

The boat rocked with steady grace, and he with it. The rushing waters below were his constant companion, with him every aching second of every aching day. Even his lover, who possessed incredible power herself and whom he embraced with a passion that never seemed to dwindle, was not with him as often as the waves. Amice, despite her power, needed sleep. The waves did not.

His quarters gave little reprieve. Despite the quality of the furnishings, from the soft bed to the masterful dark wood trunk provided to store his belongings, it was made for a man half his height, and he could not stand upright without bashing his head against the ceiling. The bed was the worst of it, so small that he was forced to dangle both his legs over the side just to lay down. Still, it was not so bad at times; during the days he practiced he practiced his dancing with Amice, and at nights his magic.

Now was no different as he sat in the quiet early morning and set about shaping and reshaping his flesh. The raw power of mana coursed through his veins, its telltale burning and tingling unbearable for more than a few minor changes at a time. The shaping of flesh was an alien sensation, even now. But Alden persisted.

Behind him Amice snored softly. His ears pricked at the sound, and for a moment the waves were forgotten. But only a moment, and then they were in his ears once more, as irritating as buzzing flies. Clasping his hands together, he focused his mana and continued his work.

Bones were his focus this time. A favorite of his, ever since dissecting the myrmecoleon a year ago. They had astounded him then; black as iron and harder than steel, they were the second proof that monsters were unique in the world, separate from the mundane dogs that roamed Addens’s streets in packs, or the cows that grazed nearly every field in the country, or even the birds that flew high above. The first had been the thing's size, of course, but the bones intrigued him more, and it was not so long ago that he began reshaping his own bones in imitation. Hard and black and dense, filled not with mere calcium but also with iron and carbon intertwined together.

And now he was attempting to do the same again, but with the flesheater’s bones in mind.

“Alden?” Her voice. He turned around. Bleary eyed, Amice rose from the bed. “Egbin’s coming.”

He tilted his head to the door, waiting. There were trudging footsteps on the other side, growing louder and louder. Egbin must have been stomping his way over.

There was a knock.

“Come in,” Alden said.

The door opened to reveal the furrowed brow of Egbin, the head man-at-arms in service to Aelfwynn. He wore mail over top a grayed tunic that once was white, its edges frayed ever so slightly. Poor fitting for a man of his position. Then again, Alden thought, the man was no knight, else he’d have had the sense not to wear heavy mail on open waters. It was a show of status for the man, as tiresome as that was. A man-at-arms could not hope to afford a fine undershirt, to say nothing of coat or trousers or shoes, and so mail was worn in their place.

“Lady Aelfwynn requests your presence, my lord,” Egbin said.

“Certainly.” Alden stood, careful not to bash his head against the ceiling another time. He smiled. Even hunched over he towered over Egbin, and Egbin, muscled as he was, paled in comparison to his width and musculature.

Egbin grimaced, then sauntered off, his feet pounding loudly against the wooden floor.

“He’s angry,” Amice said.

Alden chuckled. “I gathered that much.”

“He’s been angry, I should say. Since this morning. Aelfwynn was speaking about you.”

Alden cocked his head, more surprised that she had been awake than to find out he was the topic of Aelfwynn’s gossip. “What’d she say?”

“Much and more. The kinds of things that’d anger a love-struck man-at-arms like Egbin.” She wrapped her arms around him, her hands playfully tracing down his stomach toward his pants. “His heart’s all flutters when he’s near her. Just like yours is when you’re with me. She doesn’t reciprocate, though. She’s rather more impressed by you, despite what she’s said.”

He laughed as he pulled her hands away. He knelt down and kissed her, her soft lips tempting him to ignore the Count’s daughter altogether. But reason prevailed, and he pulled away. Amice pouted.

“I’m off, then,” he said.

“Before that,” she said, “I can see it. Hyllgardyn.”

He flexed his hands, the muscles of his forearms straining against the tight fabric of his coat. He was gritting his teeth, too, enough to bring on a headache.

“Egbin said…”

That fucker, he thought. He’d intended to raise Dancing to Rank B, at the least. Rank A would have been better. Now there wasn’t time. Not that he should have been surprised. More than once Egbin had prevented him from traversing the ship, always stating that ‘this section is off limits’ or that ‘the crew in this section is quite busy’. Then there was the issue of speaking to the crew at all, to which Egbin took every opportunity to interrupt, saying that ‘the crew is far too busy to speak, my lord.’

“He lied,” she said. “About that and more, I think. I think… I think I can tell when he’s lying. Maybe. I don’t know.”

“A thought for later. Aelfwynn calls.”

Alden trudged down the ship’s main hallway and up the stairs into the particularly harsh and bright burning sunlight. Man-at-arms and sailors parted as he made his way to Aelfwynn’s cabin. Outside Egbin was waiting for him, leant up against the cabin door and frowning hard. Alden frowned in return.

“Have something to say?” Alden asked.

Egbin licked his lips, then gave a crooked, yellow smile. “No. Don’t think I do,” he said.

“Then open the door.”

Aelfwynn sat alone at a table on the far end of the cabin at the stern of the ship, beside which rested a long, narrow window that overlooked the lake. Upon the table was a white porcelain tea set, painted with thin floral patterns that seemed to glow in the daylight. Beside the teapot was a cake, one piece already carved out for Aelfwynn herself. Lemon, by the smell of it.

If you spot this tale on Amazon, know that it has been stolen. Report the violation.

The chair opposite her, Alden noticed, was of much sturdier build than her own.

“Ah, Lord Alden.” Aelfwynn stood and curtsied with surprising grace. “Please, do join me.”

Alden sat, feeling awkward and overlarge despite the chair’s size. Aelfwynn filled the cup in front of him, the brown tea releasing gentle streams of steam that filled his nostrils.

“You asked for me,” he said. Aelfwynn smiled, the kind of thin smile that told of all sorts of mischief.

“That I did. There are matters that I would like to pass by you. Offers, really.”

“Before that,” Alden said, his fingers thumping against the table one by one in irritated fashion, “this Egbin of yours. I’ve done as he’s asked, with the expectation that what was being asked came firstly from your mouth. Is that the case?”

Aelfwynn’s face was statuesque, stuck in that thin smile, as if she’d never been asked a question. She took a sip of her tea. “There’s an issue,” she said. Not a question.

“Besides keeping me confined to a rather small space aboard this rather large ship, he’s lied to me about when we’d be in Hyllgardyn. I was told a week from now. Something about a storm.”

Aelfwynn put her cup down, took a bite of her lemon cake, then, dabbed at her mouth, with a napkin, though not a crumb had touched her face. “Oh, there was a storm, my lord. A big one, I’m told, though, as it happened, it appears the storm carried itself off somewhere else. Perhaps Egbin forgot to tell you? His poor memory is, shamefully, something we are quite used to. I can assure you, however, that no ill will was intended.”

Deftly, Aelfwynn cut another slice of cake, then placed it before Alden. He could almost feel his stomach growl. He took a bite, and his mood brightened. Add cooking to my desired Skills list.

“There is another issue I’ve had with your man-at-arms,” Alden said, fighting the urge to gobble the cake in a single motion. “That being his pastime of finding any and every conceivable reason to prevent me from speaking with your crew.”

“My crew is the rather busy sort,” Aelfwynn replied. “When they’re awake there is much to do. They must keep the floors properly waxed, else the wood will begin to rot. Then there is the adjusting of the sails, which must be done at every change of the wind, and the oars which must be rowed at all hours of the day. And, of course, there is the cooking, which is often followed by the cleaning of my cabin. I am quite particular about the cleanliness of my cabin, as you can see. And let us not forget, my lord, but my men-at-arms is just that: men-at-arms. Soldiers. And soldiers must train often and vigorously. You would know that well yourself, being a former soldier.”

“That I do.”

“Then, though I will apologize for Egbin’s behavior if he has been overly curt, I do trust you understand that my crew was, in fact, far too busy to entertain your questions, my lord.”

Alden’s fingers continued to thump against the table one by one. Sighing, he leaned back in his chair, pretending to relax. Pretending to accept what he was hearing. Outside the lake’s water was pure blue with streaks of white waves, the largest of which were those formed in the ship’s wake as it glided over its surface. Larger and faster than any of my ships.

Insulted as he felt, he couldn’t say he didn’t understand what Aelfwynn was doing. How must it have felt, he wondered, to watch some undeserving miscreant join the ranks of nobility? To think, to know, that only those of good blood deserved to rule. And now some unknown miserable welp was likening himself to such ancient bloodlines.

Not that he could imagine caring in the first place.

“I understand,” he finally said.

“Then, before I begin the discussion I desired to have with you, do you have any other questions or concerns, my lord?”

“A million and more, but they can wait. Please, my lady, why have you asked for me?”

She set her cup down, the white porcelain clinking against the saucer. “My arrival to your lands, as well as my offer to bring you with me aboard my ship, was to serve two purposes. Firstly, as I had stated before, to witness the newest lakelord, the great and ferocious giant-turned-noble, with mine own eyes. Ooh, such a reputation! How could I not? I had assumed you to be quite the spectacle. And that, there, leads to the next reason, my lord. I am engaged as of a few months ago.”

“And this concerns me how?” Alden asked.

“Your part, my lord, is simply to exist and to accompany me, both of which you have done spectacularly. You needn’t do more but indulge me and listen to my reasoning.” She cut into her cake, her silver fork gliding through with ease, took a bite, then dabbed her mouth. “My fiance is a handsome boy, but just that. A boy, and not much more. He has no training in arms to speak of, no knowledge of magic, no combat experience, no skill in commerce or languages, no interest in history. Nothing but his looks. Especially his eyes, dark blue gems that they are. And like gems they tempt many women to him.”

“He’s having an affair?”

“Possibly, but I’ve no proof. Given that our marriage is an arranged one, and has yet to have actually occurred, I’m willing to forgive any such infidelity. But I intend to teach my fiance that such actions do not come without cost.”

“That’s where I come in,” Alden guessed.

“Yes. Egbin and the others have orders to start spreading gossip and rumors about us and our journey as soon as we reach landfall. It won’t be long before he hears it.”

“And everyone else in the county.”

Aelfwynn tilted her head, seeming amused. “Does that bother you?”

“I’d thought it might bother you,” he said. “If your plan was to throw your chastity into doubt, and with me as the one responsible, then these rumors will do wonders.”

Aelfwynn chuckled. “It does not bother near as much as you might think. Oh, I could regale you with more stories than you’d care to listen to about all the things noble ladies get up to. Secret late night parties, affairs with other noble sons or daughters, trysts involving knights and man-at-arms. Nearly everyone’s been part of one scandal or another, most of them untrue. Most. Merely entertainment for our kind.”

“If you want entertainment I would suggest seeing a play, or perhaps hiring a bard,” Alden said. “Though much of my misgivings were on your behalf, there are some for myself as well. Whether it’s untrue or not, these rumors will no doubt have an effect on how the other noble families view me. Perhaps not a notion you fear, my lady, seeing as your father is Count Stowgardyn. But to me, a mere baron, and an upraised on at that, these rumors are dangerous. I’d prefer you not spread them all across the lakelands.”

“Yes, yes, trades and deals and commerce and all that, I know it well enough, my lord. Would it put your mind at ease to know that these rumors are but one part of an offer I’d like to make? One that would see your pockets lined quite nicely in return for your troubles?”

“I’d say that depends on the details of this offer.”

Aelfwynn clapped her hands together. “Splendid!”

“I’ve not agreed to anything yet,” Alden said.

“Ah, but you will once you hear my offer, my lord. As I have it, you have monster parts in need of sale, correct? Flesheater, as I recall? But, from what I’ve heard, getting a qualified appraiser has been rather difficult for you.”

Alden leaned forward in his chair, its wooden legs creaking slightly. “You’ll buy them?”

A daft move. Now she knew he was eager.

“I will. Not all of them, of course, but enough to leave you with a tidy sum.”

“Without an appraiser neither of us knows the true value of those parts,” Alden said, giving his best attempt to seem disinterested. “But even so, I believe them to be high quality. If I don’t sell them, I’ll make them into something myself. What I won’t do is sell them for any less than top market rates.”

“That’s quite fine by me, my lord. If they’re worth even half what you claim then I’m certain I can make use of them. But what I want is not the parts themselves, don’t forget. What I want is a very simple thing. At my father’s ball I would like you to approach me and ask me to dance, ideally before my fiance does.”

“That’s it? Just dance with you?” Alden asked.

Aelfwynn’s lips curled into a sinister smile. “That’s all, my lord. Just a dance. Before my fiance asks the same of me, which should pose little problem. He’ll no doubt spend a good portion of his time flirting with the other noble daughters. But he also has a bad habit of directing his attention towards me. An attempt to see if his behavior leaves me jealous, I imagine. So, when his attention is squarely on me, you swoop in. Offer small talk to start, anything will do. I’ll pretend to swoon and then, when I give the signal, offer to dance with me. I’ll accept, we’ll dance, and my poor, sour little fiance will have a taste of his own medicine. Do we have a deal?”

“And what if I say I can’t dance?” Alden asked.

“Then I’ll call you a liar. I know who your little knight friend is, my lord, and my crew has complained often and loudly about the rather noisy shenanigans you two have been up to. You can’t seriously expect me to believe she hasn’t taught you anything about noble manners, can you? Especially dancing, what with the ball and all?”

“I suppose not,” Alden said. He scratched at his jaw, feeling the soft hairs of his beard. Perhaps I should shave, he thought. “Before I agree to this deal, as nice as it sounds, I do need an exact figure. A ‘tidy sum’, as you called it, is tempting, but overly vague for my tastes.”

From within her dress, Aelfwynn produced a leather-bound book, locked with a leather strap. She opened it, flicked through the pages, and settled on a page near the end of the book. She pushed the book towards him.

Alden looked down, noticed the zeroes. “I suppose you have a deal.”