Chapter twenty-eight
Harmony adjusted Hyacinth’s bow tie. The extra-large toad squirmed uncomfortably in his fitted suit, as Harmony had opted for revenge, working her plans in with the masquerade set up. Matching genderless outfits of marble patterned pants and shirts for the staff and their companions if they had them. A few soft suggestions about the servants being statues and the matriarch went running with them. The maid felt good having a successful plan, even if it was to tweak her familiar.
Sir Maxwell, while a guest at the manor, gave her a wide berth. She suspected he actively avoided her after realizing her presence caused uncontrolled honesty. Tyler kept to his room. Even Jessica behaved, which was easy when no one had the energy to do anything but rest during their downtime. The prince happily buzzed when the maid checked on her pet bond, making her feel more secure as the days before the masquerade passed, and he hadn’t been discovered. Though checking did bring a desire to scratch the man’s too-adorable face under the chin and feed him a treat.
“You’re positively handsome, Hyacinth. All you have to do is sit by me and look pretty while I wait with drinks to the side.”
Chilled drinks. The maid’s new skill hadn’t escaped notice. Jessica would be serving hot ones. Ambrosia was training birds to deliver appetizers. If you had a skill they could use, it would be shown off. The lords of Fenway had a pair of alchemists working on the mixed drinks. Bards worked together to play instruments. She imagined Ambrosia was glad she kept her singing out of work, or they might make her perform.
Bate’s thudding cane made everyone a little tense at the staff’s changing station. The head butler stuck his head inside.
“Gates open in ten minutes. Everyone get to your places.”
Harmony had missed the staff rehearsal due to working on Lady Coodly and her friend’s hair and nails for the party. She dashed off, toad in tow, through the organized chaos of everyone finishing last-minute touches.
Jimmy, the houseboy, handed Harmony the tray of drinks and then adjusted her one square over. She channeled [Cold Touch], chilling the tray and beverages with her hand. Then posed herself, pulling a constant bit from [Poise and Bearing], [Style and Grace], and her new physical defensive and offensive skills. She was a statue. Ambush predator that Hyacinth was. The necromancer sensed him fantasizing about a big juicy cat walking by. He didn’t even need to borrow through their bond to remain perfectly still.
Harmony looked forward to playing a statue tonight, standing away from the center of attention and watching the royals here to retrieve Adric. She assured herself this whole hunt was a formality, mainly aimed at catching the puppetmaster who insulted their honor. A poor maid without any dead-raising skills should not be a suspect. They can have their little party, say they looked and could not find the prince’s corpse, then leave. It’s not like people don’t die in dungeons and have their bodies never seen again. Lady Coodly had stated as much.
All the servants stood motionless except for the head servants who opened the gates. Bates was paired with Fenway’s Madam Didre and two others who pulled the gates open and let in the lords, ladies, and guests. The participants moved into the reserved public square that had been done up for the event. Gold soothed the displaced theater company that had been bumped from the spot for this last-minute party.
The order of entrance was always from least important to most. Harmony had to listen to them bicker over who got to go last while assisting Adel with personal maid duties. The first group was adventurers with connections who were staying to challenge Old Bones and reach the max they could go for this starter town. Their outfits consisted of their fancier travel clothes and often cheap masks. A few wore masks modeled after the dead prince, leftovers from the funeral procession. Harmony doubted the royals would look kindly to that. Still, one of the advantages of being low-level is that you often got to act young and stupid.
They, of course, rushed the refreshments. Clearing out Harmony’s tray twice, forcing her to pulse out [Cold Touch] as quickly as a stealth-focused servant could refill them and maintain the illusion. This caused her to miss the following two groups making their way in. The wealthy power brokers and merchants who manage the flow of goods entering and leaving the city and their lesser attached personages made their entrance. People that hadn’t achieved or been granted a noble class or profession yet were part of the elites.
There she caught a glimpse of Sir Maxwell, who stood far away, even if he did shoot a nervous glance in her direction. Harmony wondered if Len or Rose were invited as well. Conversations ranged from best dungeon rewards to speculation on who was behind the corpse’s theft; Rebels, evolved kingdom agitators, or a love-struck fool.
The crowds drifted away from the refreshments as the invitees gathered to welcome the more important attendants. The head of the commission who managed both the pet battles and spring games, Serena Vale. Harmony knew, through gossip, would be wearing a dress made of hundreds of masks representing the pets and monsters who fight in the commission. Hemlock, the adventurers guild master, was invited but never showed up to these events. Others joined who represented long-standing institutions for the city, the harbor master, Heads of societies, many who would rank above the lords and ladies throwing the party but are showing up before them out of respect and tradition. And Harmony, due to her height and positioning, was missing all of it.
She fumed a little, but this level of anonymity was what she asked for. Mostly it annoyed her to stare at everyone’s backs, sometimes catching glimpses of extravagant headpieces that topped others. No doubt she’d get to see those people as they mingled or wanted a cold drink. The hosts would be next, Lady Coodly, whose hair she worked on. Lord Tyler, who’d been either absent or busy since they returned from the dungeon, and the heads of the other families putting on this soiree.
The crowd parted a little, so she thought she might catch a glimpse. Through that part stepped Sir Maxwell, his full height blocking her view. He wore a demon mask, which failed to cover his pink beard. Not that people were trying to be anonymous for this.
“You think you’re so smart, don’t you?”
The way he slurred his words made Harmony feel like he hit the refreshments a little too hard. Being a statue, she didn’t respond.
“I’m only looking for a way to get ahead, and you used my oath against me.”
Through the demon mask, the knight’s eyes stared directly into hers. It’s not like she asked the man to visit her, make an oath, or play the fool. Harmony refreshed the chill of the drinks sending a pulse of cold up through the tray. She gave it a little oomph and watched as Max stumbled back a foot when the cold hit him.
“It would be in your best interests to stay out of trouble.”
Is that a threat? Harmony wondered.
“Because I’ll be forced to step in to protect you.”
The man’s hand went to his mouth again, and he stepped back more steps before he made a panicked turn and headed back into the crowd.
Drinks were taken and replaced on her tray as the necromancer contemplated what to do. The connection between her and sir idiot knight seemed rather solid. Maybe ask one of the house boys with the class about the skill? She didn’t know much about oaths. Could she release the fool?
The royals had yet to arrive, and the crowd was getting good and mingled. Hyacinth had his own revenge. Shadow Toad, do, do, do, do, do, do. Shadow Toad, do, do, do, do, do, do.” He projected on repeat through the bond he shared with Harmony.
This forced Harmony to focus more actively on maintaining her still form through her skills as she fought the urge to swat her familiar. Which is why it came as a surprise when he stopped.
Pulling herself out of that internal struggle, she didn’t blink, but her eyes focused. Lord Tyler stood before her, a chilled drink in his hand that she missed him grabbing. He was fully decked out. The thick-boned skeleton costume covering him was grim. Still, it represented the family’s position in the town built around the necromantic dungeon. The matriarch had picked his outfit while Harmony helped style one of her friends.
“Harmony, it’s me, Lord Tyler.” There he paused, waiting for a response.
At that moment, she decided she would prefer if Hyacinth continued projecting that damned song into her head. What did these knights and lords expect her to do? Move, respond, talk back, sure they might forgive her. But Lady Coodly certainly wouldn’t if she caused a scene, and then there is Bates, who wouldn’t forget when it came time to assign the tough assignments. She’d taken up this role to be scenery, not a shrine to confess to.
“The dungeon trip didn’t go how I wanted. I’d hoped to… I had the words earlier; practiced them.”
A guest stepped around Tyler and grabbed a frost-covered glass of alcohol. Loud conversations battled in the air as people needed to project to talk to those next to them.
She watched as Tyler stood there struggling. Crowds were not his thing, and she almost felt pity for him if she wasn’t his current focus.
A woman wearing a white dress and feathered mask around her eyes bumped into the young lord, and the tank stumbled.
His shoulders slumped forward. “Sorry, I’ll find a better place to do this.”
The woman who clearly recognized the lord smiled. “Oh, no, it was all my fault. I’d be happy to show the lord my place? Perhaps after the party?”
Tyler looked from the woman to the immobile Harmony and back to the woman. Then he darted into the party’s crowd.
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“I like it when men play hard to get.” The woman said hungrily and followed after.
It was a relief as the attention left Harmony and returned to the drinks she was holding. No one wanted to go before the royals showed up, so Harmony witnessed a lot of trysts planned for after the party. Talking over drinks apparently meant talking over the drink server.
“Your control is impressive, but is this how you want to spend your time?”
Hemlock’s voice set Harmony’s soul on edge. The memory of being under his skill effect put her on high alert. She didn’t sense his power now but checked herself anyway. Distrust and verify.
“Three of your compatriots have already swapped out. Yet you’ve managed to remain perfectly still. one sneezed, another laughed at a particularly dirty joke he overheard, and one collapsed under the strain.”
Guilmaster Hemlock stepped into her vision. The short man stood only a finger’s length taller than the maid. His white pants and shirt were the same as when he’d stopped by the party. His mask was a single strip of white fabric tied around his eyes, like a blind man or a poor man’s shade from the sun.
Harmony felt his gaze anyway, covered as it was. Did she move to spite him? Or remain as still? She could feel the slight strain on her skills, though [Cold Touch] supported the perfect stillness in its own way, appreciating the death of momentum.
“You could be at the guild house, training, honing your skills with that same dedication. Ready to challenge the dungeon. There are other ways to build your profession than to live the life of a servant. You can’t hide here forever.”
The guild master leaned forward and booped her nose.
One part of her screamed to kick him. She wasn’t a kitten to boop. If anyone had booping privileges, it was her, for her pet. Then as strong as the urge to kick this dangerous man, the desire to find Adric and boop his nose came on as strong. Neither were normal urges, and they struggled inside her, creating confusion.
“I’ll see you soon, little necromancer.” Hemlock finished, stepping away and taking a cold drink with him.
Harmony dismissed the man and focused internally. It hadn’t been so long since she’d accepted [High Kick] into herself. The skill still reacted to outrage with a desire to strike out and end threats, whether emotional or physical. It was more under control, as it hadn’t piped up when Max or Tyler was around. Now the nose booping was interesting. Thin threads of social skills, like spiderweb strands, vibrated from her pet bond to Prince Adric, like a fly struggling, letting that spider know dinner was ready.
The mostly one-way bond almost hummed. Oh, no. Harmony let her eyes move as she searched around the crowd. There she found the most boopable figure. Bulky armor and rumpled brown clothes covered the tall man, hiding the well-muscled body under there. A hood covered a thick wave of hair, and that perfect face was masked by an imperfect copy of what hid underneath. It wasn’t the only mask of prince Adric she’d seen at the party, though it was one of the cheaper ones. Her pet was here.
The royals who were searching for him were coming here. What did that puppy of a man think he was doing? Her senses brushed up against that pet bond, and Adric’s head snapped in her direction.
He bounded over like a puppy. Worse than a boop, he moved down and hugged the maid.
Harmony was grateful he didn’t pick her up and spin her around again. The hug was nice. It did soothe some of the earlier stress. But that wasn’t the point. He shouldn’t be here, and Harmony’s heart didn’t care as feelings of being cherished bled through the bond. He also let go before making too much of a scene, grabbing a drink and playing it off like he was a little tipsy.
Maybe he wasn’t a total and complete idiot if he could cover so well.
Bending down, he whispered into her ear. “I missed you, master.” He slurred.
She could even smell the alcohol on his breath. Harmony took back the idea that he wasn’t a total idiot. She would have thought someone who was technically some kind of undead could hold their alcohol.
“My sister will be here. Don’t worry. I have a plan.” The prince in disguise added.
Harmony did worry. If there was a time to act, use her bond to tell him to leave, break character. It was two seconds before she thought to do that as the prince ducked away and into the mingling guests.
Hyacinth did not chuckle at that, which Harmony was grateful for; otherwise, she’d project her own, Harmony White, do, do, do, do, do, do. On repeat through their bond at him.
The crowd surged away from the drink station. It was time for the main event. The royals were here.
The necromancer envisioned Prince Adric jumping out and doing something stupid. Her hope was that if caught, he’d be a loyal pet and not give her away.
The crowd cheered. There were no gasps, loud proclamations, or unexpected displays of skills. The royals came, and the party continued.
Standing completely still for so long was tiring, even with skills. Not only would there be extra pay for this, but everyone would get two extra days off for their hard work. Inside The familiar chime of her profession leveling echoed through her soul. Seventeen wasn’t special, no evolutions, no new skills, but now that she had her stats, she could invest some energy into improving one. Not that she had time to test her stats limits or do more than see more ways they could go wrong. Going with the idea that stats helped provide a framework for her to build on, she planned on boosting each of them equally. This time she dumped that energy into chronostasis because it seemed like the least dangerous option outside of extra long and awkward moments.
“Tyler said I’d find you here. I should have suspected that you were with the cold drinks meant you would be the one holding them.”
Rose, the ranger who Harmony considered the smartest of the bunch, looked stunning in a dress adorned by sparkling pink gemstones and a feather-covered white mask. A high-quality lady’s costume and different from the more down-to-earth adventurer’s attire, Harmony was used to seeing her in. Was she with the Royals after how she left the party at the news of Adric walking away from his deathbed? The maid assumed she would be one of the two ladies escorting the duke and princess.
“All business, I see. Don’t worry. I don’t expect you to talk or move. I didn’t want to... I mean... I hope you still message me when you make it to the capital. We like to go to this town and be as anonymous as we can be. Addy was an exception.”
Harmony didn’t move, but her mind worked on parsing Rose’s muddled speech because it made it clear she was missing something.
A purple pimple of a man stepped from the crowd and tugged on Rose’s elbow. A royal? Finery of a lord in a suit made of purple scales and a dragon mask to match. Harmony didn’t recognize him from her time with the matriarch planning the event.
“Grabbing drinks is not helping me achieve authority, princess.”
The way he said princess was like talking about some distasteful piece of trash. More importantly to Harmony, it was Rose who he referred to when he said the word. Internally she thought, “Well, damn, of course, she is.” Outwardly she didn’t say anything or move, but the long exhausted willpower it took to do that caused her fine control of [Cold Touch] to slip. The skill burst out with its uncontrolled activation, freezing solid the drinks on the tray and causing a chill to radiate out.
“I only needed a moment to talk.”
Harmony watched as the cold air must have touched the duke as his attention turned to her and then with a slight shift of his head back to the princess.
“A lesson. One gains authority by executing the authority they have!”
The necromancer might have missed the beginning of the attack if it wasn’t for the fact that [Small Armor] was bearing some of the weight of the effort to remain perfectly still. As it was, it caught the tiny twitches of muscle, shift in stance, and other little hints. In turn, chronostasis affected her perception of time, making every whispered hint in the duke’s move a scream. The why didn’t matter, as the man had decided he had an excuse to strike.
Harmony considered taking the blow, deflecting most of the energy to be safe. The attack didn’t scream lethality, and she’d been hit before, not at the manor in her role as a maid, but in training and elsewhere. Appeasement and disappearing were usually the safest way to handle the type of man who’d do such an act. Except even slowed in her sight, others moved at speed she noticed as the duke’s hand extended out.
Max pushed into sight, perhaps forced to come to her defense. He wasn’t going to make it. Her pet moved too. The prince was quicker, disturbing people further away. He also couldn’t stop the hit landing as it felt nearly inevitable. Not that it might matter. She’d seen Ambrosia’s birds peck a stray cat to death for scratching her. The feral ones were more pests than pets, one reason she didn’t begrudge her toad’s taste. Hyacinth wasn’t happy. The toad had sat angrily by her side, and she could tell whatever patience he had was nearly gone.
Prince Adric attacking the duke for striking her master worried her the most. It certainly wasn’t a way to prove he was a friendly undead who wasn’t prone to violence or distance his existence from her.
[Small Armor] flared up. The necromancer needed to act now, or there would be no choice.
So she did. The armor, Night, snapped into existence, swapping with the masquerade’s uniform. The back of her hand shot up, and the armored gloves pivoted to meet the skill-empowered fist, intercepting it so close that Harmony’s head, there was almost no distance except her palm between the strike and her face. The blow’s deflected force sent a ripple of energy into the crowd.
Hyacinth’s tongue shot out, pushing the duke’s knee, causing him to stumble back before the toad quickly took it back inside his mouth.
The necromancer’s perception of time snapped back to base speed. Her skin crawled as the duke used an inspection skill on her. Whatever it was, it had an extra bit of ick factor to the ability.
The princess stood shocked but spoke first. “Darren, what are you doing? This is not the capital.”
Max and Prince Adric had stopped their rushed approach, slowing to a more measured approach, but they weren’t the only ones moving now. Lord Tyler was on the move, and she could spot the towering hairpiece of the matriarch in the crowd approaching.
“I have the right to correct a mistake from a servant as the ranking royal in town. Why anyone would employ that cursed class has me questioning our vassal’s hiring processes.”
“Harmony was part of my adventuring party. I take responsibility for any mishap my presence has caused. A public display might not be wise.”
The maid knew it was too late for that. She suspected supplicating herself and apologizing would produce a new strike to make up for the first one, or she’d meekly do that. Any additional violence towards her wouldn’t end calmly, with Max, Tyler, and Adric in the mix. Ambrosia’s birds had stopped appetizers to circle above, ready to act. Even the princess’s voice had some angry steel. To her slight shock, all of this protectiveness gave her a happy feeling. People stepping up to defend her, pleasing, but this is her mess to resolve.
“The strike was well made. Consider myself corrected, honorable duke.”
She chose her words carefully. The man, powerful enough for her class and profession to warn that he was a dangerously higher level than her, could he admit she bested his strike, failed in correcting her, or was not honorable? None of which would look good for him in such a public space. For once, she was grateful she read all of Lord Tyler’s book collection because even the dry etiquette stuff was coming in handy right now.
It was the matriarch Lady Coodly who stepped through the crowd. Three towers of tri-colored molded hair, red, white, and black, create an image of blood, bone, and ichor representing the town. Her own mask was that of a wailing banshee, the ones found in the dungeon.
“Consider yourself disciplined and dismissed, Harmony. Work is not a time to push your limits until you falter. Duke, thanks for noticing. I didn’t mean to take you away from the celebration.”
Harmony curtsied towards both the matriarch and the duke. Her eyes flicked to the key players, watching them relax and Adric slip back into the crowd. Hemlock appeared beside the duke, whispering in his ear. If he wasn’t using his skill, Harmony would eat her shoes. But as the maid was dismissed, she didn’t have more than a second to watch before she turned around, exited the pavilion, and returned to the servants’ tent.