Adam’s next few days were filled with learning his way around the estate and training with Martin. He’d made nearly zero progress in holding weapons long enough to attack someone, but at least he could find his way to the kitchen, his room, and the training yard. There had been no word from the duke or duchess about his duties, so he continued doing what he could. He was frustrated with the holding pattern that he was in, but a part of him rejoiced in the quasi free time it had given him.
He had been unnerved by the System Assistance, leaving him terrified of it happening again, so he was happy to avoid the children for the moment. It took such complete control over him that he had no recourse but to play along. There was no resistance; fighting was futile. To him, it had felt wrong on a fundamental level. It completely conflicted with everything he had heard about the System, and that, more than anything else, gave him the beginning of an idea. If he was to have any hope of getting out of the System Assistance program he needed to know more than he did about the System.
In the meantime, he’d keep training with Martin.
He’d improved some, but not a lot. Miracles didn’t happen in a couple of days. That’s not to say that it had been pointless.
There were two main improvements. One was with basic fighting. As he still couldn’t use a weapon, he had been fighting hand to hand. Mother Knows Best worked surprisingly well with learning to fight, so he had much more knowledge on fighting techniques than ever before. That didn’t mean his implementation of them was at that same level. It was still that of a novice, but growing quicker than non-combat classes, or ranged and magic combat classes for that matter.
There had even been some interesting news in regards to weapons. Every weapon still veritably flew out of his hands like an oil slime. Well, all but one. Knives stuck around a second or two longer than other weapons, and didn’t pop out of his fist at the same velocity. Still couldn’t manage an actual attack, but it was a starting location. Martin had had him working through every type of knife he could find for the last day and half.
When yet another knife slid free, Adam sighed and looked at Martin. He was surprised to see the duke standing by his trainer, but still walked over when beckoned. Both men were smiling slightly, so he decided it was unlikely he was in any sort of trouble. He bowed and said, “Milord,” to the duke.
The man smiled wider. “Martin tells me that you’ve been working hard, but there are some difficulties with finding you a weapon.”
Grimacing, Adam replied, “Yes, milord. It seems my class is particularly difficult when it comes to weapons.”
Martin snorted. “I’ve actually had to dodge more weapons flying from his hands than actual attacks.”
“I see,” the duke said. He appeared to think for a moment, although Adam suspected he had whatever this was planned in advance. “If that is the case, then Martin will need a few days to speak with some of his contacts, which will leave you without a trainer. While he is gone, I’d like you to start working on your trade skills. I’ll have your new teacher meet you tomorrow morning.”
“As you say, milord.” Adam managed to choke back the bile that threatened to escape. It wasn’t the changes to his schedule, or learning new things that caused his reaction, it was how the man went about it. There was no need to pretend he had to think about something when he already knew what he was doing, nor did he need to “talk” with Martin to learn what was going on with Adam. He was aware that Martin was required to report his progress to the duke daily. The duke owned him; there was no purpose to the theatrics.
Martin, seeing the clenching of Adam’s fists, tried to hurry things along. “Well, if we’ve only got the rest of the day, you better get back to it.” He hustled the boy back to punching the training dummy.
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The next morning Adam once again met the older woman that had been so friendly upon his arrival. Her name was Ruth, and she described herself as Martin’s paramour. At his questioning look, she just smiled, saying, “I’m his lover, dear. Or one of them anyways. That’s why I call myself his paramour, it sounds more illicit. And that makes it exciting.” She certainly wasn’t blushing that time. Indeed, she sported quite the wicked smile.
If there is one thing that all teenage boys can agree on, it’s that the only thing worse than hearing about old people having sex, is the flirting. Adam blamed the unease of being in a new place for having missed their earlier interaction. Had he been aware, he could have avoided the entire mess.
Ruth explained that over the next week he would be working on gaining the trade skills that his class had bonuses for, although the duke hadn’t confirmed which skills exactly those were. She only knew of cooking, hence their course towards the kitchen. Ruth was a maid not a cook, but she knew enough to get him started, had the time available, and most likely had the other skills he needed.
“Other than cooking, I also need sewing and cleaning. Admittedly, I already know how to clean and sew, but I don’t have any of the things I need nor a reason to do so.”
“Well, that’s an easy fix.” She pointed out a smaller door mostly hidden behind a tapestry and fancy woodwork. “Through there you can find one of the storerooms of the estate that the maids use. It should have everything you need. And since you are stuck with me for the next week or so, we’ll have plenty of time to find a few things for you to practice your skills on. But,” she held up her pointer finger in a halting motion, “breakfast first!”
So saying, she led the way off to a day of learning and working. Adam had no problems with the work, he actually enjoyed all of it. He’d spent months cooking, mending, and cleaning up after a bunch of orphan boys, so doing that for a larger house and more civilized people felt like busy work instead of actual labor. There was also the likelihood that his class was giving him some sort of bonus to doing chores as well as to learning them. It wasn’t something he had known about, but Ruth mentioned that many similar classes did something similar.
The morning was spent in the back corner of the kitchen, usually reserved for Apprentices to practice making simple meals to feed themselves and the other servants. Adam made a variety of basic breakfasts before moving onto basic lunches. He hoped to do something more interesting at some point, but he didn’t yet have the skill so the chef determined it would be a waste. It wasn’t that he couldn’t successfully make a dish, but that without the skills it would not have the boosts to flavors or the reduced cooking times and waste.
Following his kitchen adventures, it was on to the maid’s room. He had thought that the kitchen gossip was interesting, and some of the servants sounded scandalous, but they were tame by comparison. It was like comparing goblins to dragons. The maids would have made some of the working ladies of Night City blush with their tales. And according to them, there wasn’t a man in Sun King City that could keep up with them or satisfy their needs. Adam certainly got an education that day, but it had little to do with the sewing and cleaning he was supposed to be working on.
When he returned to his room that evening, Adam had one final surprise waiting for him. A tall, skeletal thin man was waiting at his door. Not knowing how else to address the man, Adam resorted to being careful. “Sir?”
The man twitched his robes, pulling them tighter about himself as though even being near Adam could dirty them. Adam was convinced the man couldn’t even see him with his nose that high in the air. He presumed there was a sneer on his face when he said, “Yes, this looks like the sort of trash he’d drag home behind himself.”
The boy was bewildered until he realized the man was talking to himself. Judging by his attitude, the man was doing it on purpose to be insulting. Refusing to rise to the bait, Adam simply waited. Nothing drives assholes crazier than being ignored, or forced to wait. Proving his wisdom, the man didn’t even make it ten seconds.
“Boy.” He made the word sound utterly despicable, as though he’d never been young. “Despite the obvious waste of my time and resources, I have followed the instructions of the duchess. If you damage the books, I’ll have your hide. Hmmph!” With one more snort for good measure, the snooty bastard left.
Adam watched him try to walk down the hallway in what was presumably supposed to be a dignified manner. The only thing that kept him from laughing at the man was that it took until he turned the corner for Adam to figure out why he was walking so strange. He’d thought the man had been injured.
Wait….
“Books?”