The women were the first to act.

“Coming!” Emilia shouted.

Lucille pushed him towards the marble tub. “Come on, get in there!”

It all happened way too fast. Emilia exited the room to distract the guard, while Lucille undressed him and shoved him into the hot water. He tried to scream as the water burned his skin, but Lucille held his mouth shut while she splashed more hot water on his head.

“Stop squirming! He’ll notice that something didn’t go right if you’re still stinky.”

Lucille roughly rubbed some soap on his upper body before pouring one of the oils on his head. She scratched the oil on his scalp with her fingers and mixed with the incredible pain he felt from his privates being boiled, he started to tear up. This is agony.

When the door opened up again, he saw Emilia entering with a fresh change of clothes while she seductively waved to the guard at the entrance. He locked eyes with her, and when she noticed his muffled screams, she quickly turned away. How dare you?

“Alright, that’s it!” Lucille stated. “Get out!”

He immediately jumped out of the tub, spilling a huge amount of water on the stone floor. He flailed around like a fish out of water.

“Hot! Hot, hot, hot, hot! Why is this water so damn hot?”

Lucille didn’t answer. She simply threw a towel to cover his naked body.

“Get up!” Emilia said. “Put these on!”

As soon as he dried himself with the towel, the women dressed him up and straightened his hair. He didn’t object. His limbs radiated heat and pain. This is what I get for trying to help.

“Done!” Lucille said.

“My, my, you look gorgeous!” Emilia cheered, spraying perfume into his face.

Lucille produced a mirror out of her inventory, and he saw his undistorted image for the first time since he got there. That’s me?

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He smiled as he recognised his clothes to be the birthday outfit of Varyan.

“You could be a young lord,” Lucille joked.

He couldn’t give a proper reaction, as the door to the bath swung open one last time. Timmy and the knight Gallagher waited for him outside.

“It’s time!” the knight proclaimed. “Follow me.”

He bid the women farewell with a nod and joined the knight without further discussion. Gallagher led them through a series of smaller rooms in the western wing, each adorned with rich tapestries and polished wooden furniture. One room stood out in particular where he saw two red helmets, similar to Gallagher’s, placed on top of neatly folded down comforters on each bed inside. The room was as pristinely clean as the others, courtesy of Lydia who was standing in the middle of the room with a feather duster. This must be where Reacher and Becket live.

The group moved on, leaving him no chance to properly greet the bowing servant. The group passed a circular staircase he assumed to be leading up the tower he saw every day from outside, before their tour ended in a grand hall where portraits of past lords and ladies of the estate decorated the walls around the long, polished oak table in the middle. The air was filled with the warmth and aroma of a sumptuous breakfast. The table was set with fine pewter dishes and silverware. At the center of the feast was a large, golden-brown roasted goose, stuffed with a savory blend of chestnuts, herbs, and winter spices. Its skin was crispy and glistening, a promise of juicy meat within. Surrounding the goose were platters of thick, honey-glazed ham and slices of rich, gamey venison sausage, seasoned with pepper and sage. Bowls of fruits, such as preserved apples and pears, added a touch of sweetness to the spread. The sight of the food made his stomach growl painfully. At the far end of the table, Baron Bonatelli sat in front of the biggest portrait in the room, one of himself in golden armor raising a sword with a war cry on his face, awaited him.

image [https://i.imgur.com/qk3cXyO.jpeg]

"Good morning to the fiery miner," the Baron greeted him with a cold smile, as he waved Gallagher away. "Enjoying your stay so far?"

Stick stood stiffly, unsure of what to expect. “I’ve been welcomed warmly.”

The Baron’s demeanor was unnervingly calm. “It’s a good thing we have plumbing in here. Gets all the fluids drained, right?”

“Y- Yeah…” Stick answered.

The Baron pointed to the chair closest to him. “Why don’t you sit down and join me?”

His heart was racing in an odd mix of hate and fear as each step along the richly decorated meal brought him closer to the person depriving him and his friends of such luxuries, all the while the waft of carefully crafted meat made his mouth water. A male servant pulled out the chair to Bonatelli’s right for Stick to sit on. When he sat down, he couldn’t help but notice that the chairs to the side of the table were a bit shorter than the one Bonatelli was sitting on. From there, he had the perfect view of the portrait of the Baron, as the morning light shining through the glass panes on the opposite side of the table engulfed the whole painting in a golden shimmer. What an asshole.

“Why don’t we have a bite to eat, before we talk business?” Bonatelli proposed.

With a clap of his hands, a commotion broke out and six servants, including Timothy, gathered around the two.