Nero fiddled with the stiff cloth bruising his neck. They were at a fancy restaurant called 'The Adventurer's Repose'. He had to buy a fancy set of clothes at the haberdasher as it was both parts of the trip plan and demanded by the ladies. Not the ones he was traveling with, but all the fancy peacocks strutting on fashion avenue. That was not the real name of the street but Nero didn't bother to learn it. That's how he came to wear something that was too expensive to be that stiff and itchy.
The restaurant was something Nero thought only existed in fairytales. A crystal chandelier, polished floor one could use as a mirror, soft and pleasant music, and few diners dressed in fancy clothes. And the staff all wore their Arbitrii in the open.
Byron chuckled and pointed, "Everyone working here is at least level fifty," He commented. "Supposedly to prevent fights from happening."
It made sense, at least to Nero's limited worldly knowledge. People with lower Level caps would soon find it impossible to delve further as they stagnated and reached a point where the danger wasn't worth the payoff. Past level fifty, another factor slowed down an Adventurer's advancement considerably, besides the exponential vs linear characteristic of Essence required to level against Essence dropped by monsters. As the Dungeon monsters grew, they also had improvements in equal amounts as to those an Adventurer would earn from Class promotions. That made the fights extremely dangerous and an Adventurer would resort to killing monsters of a lower level than theirs, further slowing down their advancement. Every Adventurer had a sweet spot where they advanced fast and then a twilight period where they just retired.
It happened to his parents of all people. They would have to either delve in Dungeons too low-ranked for them to get anything worth from or risk their lives fighting something closer to their own levels. Never mind trying to fight monsters stronger than your own. It was a death sentence. Go too low and you earn nothing. If Byron killed a stone serpent, the result would be a dead serpent and nothing else. His device would drain so much energy from the kill there would be nothing left to crystallize, not a single point of Essence.
He snapped back to the present. Altia asked him something about... what he wanted to eat?
"What do you recommend, father?"
"Everything here is good, guaranteed. Pick anything you want, kid. I'm paying."
It seems Nero did something right during their visit to the barracks. Byron was in a good mood even after hearing that Rhynne had bought Altia a full ladies' wardrobe. Truth, she paid for the green dress herself, but her mom splurged on the girl. Both women seemed happy enough and it wasn't his money so he was enjoying the company of a very pleased Altia. She kept stealing glances at him.
"What? Is there something wrong with me?" He asked her.
"You look like a prince," the village girl said. "So handsome."
"What did you expect, he got my looks and Byron's physique," Rhynne explained, throwing a jab at her husband.
"Right. Glad you aren't as ugly as me, kid. And that you are not as blind as my wife, Altia," Byron chuckled. "Ouch."
Rhynne glared but then changed entirely as the waiter approached.
"I'll have the orange sauce fowl," She declared. "My husband wants a boar steak with brown sauce, and we are drinking brandy."
"I want garlic lamb loins," Altia pointed at the fancy menu, "And grape juice, no alcohol."
The waiter stared at Nero. He stuttered. "Su-Scallion and herb risotto. With orange juice."
"Very well. Your food will be served soon."
The waiter went to a counter and Nero followed him with his eyes. He talked to the man behind it and went through what he assumed was the kitchen door. Servers came with dishes, bowls, and silverware right after and set them on the table before them.
"The plates are empty," Nero whispered to Altia.
"Wait for it. Rhynne told me about the wonders of this place."
After a while, their waiter returned. His first stop was between Rhynne and Byron. "Ma'am, is this to your liking?"
He was showing Rhynne a card. Nero raised an eyebrow but Rhynne was carefully examining the card.
"Yes, that is fine. Go ahead."
The waiter held the card on his right, bent the elbow to put his device in front and then slotted the card. Nero widened his eyes. He saw the border of the card as he shifted it around. Blue. Soon a bottle of brandy appeared on the table, materialized.
"Card? Blue?" The country bumpkin mumbled.
"Yes, that's amazing. This restaurant has no kitchen, all the food come from cards," Altia explained. "All the wait staff have devices for that."
"Blue," He repeated, "It was a blue card."
"All the food here is from blue cards," She said as if she was a connoisseur. " At least green. "I think Rhynne's dish is also blue. Oh, here it comes."
The waiter went around the table, summoning their food. Nero's dish was also blue-quality. It smelled of freshly cooked seafood, even releasing that small spout of steam.
"Don't wait for it to cool. Dig in, kid."
They ate their dinner, Nero even exchanged a few bites of risotto for Altia's lamb. It was the best meal he'd ever had. They made small talk and Byron loudly boasted of Nero's exploits in the barracks. After all the tension, it was good to hear his father speak about him with pride. He had to keep his Level cap a secret though. He felt it was a card castle, ruin one sneeze away. Pushing these thoughts aside, he did his best to enjoy Altia's company and take in the sights of that marvelous venue.
----------------------------------------
After dinner, they went for a stroll in the gaslight-lit streets. The city took a charm of its own, with the twilight hiding the tall buildings from sight and a few lit shop signs. Carriages took important people to and from their social gatherings and the four well-dressed Adventurers from the countryside walked to the tavern, the two youngsters taking in these scenes for the first time.
The inn was one street removed from the central square, where a huge statue of the King kept watch over everyone, his gaze facing south toward the neighbor country. It was a fine place, but after seeing the fancy restaurant, Nero could find the resolve to keep his jaw shut.
A girl dressed in maid clothes approached them. "Milady, milord, what can I do for you?"
"Two double rooms for the evening," Byron answered. "I believe we were already booked. I'm Byron and this is my wife, Rhynne."
"Of course, milord. The shops already delivered your purchases, they are in your rooms. Please do check if everything is in order. I am Tania, and I'll be your maid during your stay. Don't hesitate to ask anything of me."
She spoke professionally, a bit detached even, and without any kind of innuendo. Nero knew from some novels that more than a few inns offered a special kind of service from their maids for the right customers, but this was not the case. The maid led them up the stairs and into the third floor, down a corridor in the L-shaped building and stopped before a door. Or doors, as there was one on either side.
Unauthorized duplication: this tale has been taken without consent. Report sightings.
"Master Byron, mistress Rhynne, your room is to the left, with a view to the inner courtyard as you requested. Young master Nero and miss Altia, your room is to the right with a view to the city streets. There is a golden rope hung behind the door, tug on it once and I'll come to see to your needs. There is a water heater and pump in the room for your convenience. I hope you have a wonderful and restful night. This way, please."
Nero tried to keep his cool but was he sleeping with Altia? Their parents quickly disappeared into their room and the maid was holding the door, waiting for his monkey brain to reboot. Altia looked annoyed but she was blushing hard. Nero nodded and entered the room. The maid quickly closed the door almost without making a sound and Nero took a good look at the room. A few fancy boxes of varied shapes were piled on a corner, the symbol of some shops in fashion avenue visible. Another pile of boxes from the haberdasher and the cordwainer too.
On a corner of the room, there was a large wooden tub with metallic rings holding the boards together. A curtain hung from a ring of metal would give privacy to whoever was bathing there. To the side he could see the heater and pump, a modern model compared to the one they had at home. There was a pretty white vanity with an oval mirror, a wide dresser, a small round table with two chairs and a flower vase, and finally one four-poster bed. Not 'a' bed but 'one' bed, Nero reckoned.
"This room is marvelous," Altia broke the silence. "The bed seems comfortable too. Nero?"
"Yes. It seems so. There's no couch though. I think I can sleep on a blanket on the floor."
She glared at him, "What do you mean, you're sleeping on a bed. It has room for four people!"
"It is not proper. We shouldn't--"
Nero's heart was racing and he was very interested in sleeping with Altia on the bed and maybe even... no, he couldn't give in to temptation. He had to be respectful and proper or he couldn't call himself a man.
"We slept hugging each other in the Dungeon. What is the matter? Why it is different here?"
"Nothing is trying to kill us?"
He meant to say that while they were worried about people-eating rats, there wasn't much opportunity to think of other, more intimate things. But the young ape-kin fumbled the delivery. Altia knew him well enough to get what he meant.
"And now that we are not in danger you are going to do untoward things to me, is that it?" She teased, taking a few steps forward.
What the young woman didn't know was how much impact her teasing had on the boy. To him, it was as if she was enticing him to take action.
"Of course not! You are an unmarried woman, I would never tarnish your reputation."
"Ah. Unmarried," She played with the word in her tongue. "Which means you are not seriously courting me, just playing around, right?"
Nero paled. Was it a couples' fight? Was Altia annoyed or unsatisfied with something?
"Of course not! I would never 'play around'," he mocked the words, "with you. I'm serious. I do intend to marry you if you would have..." He faded and then avoided her gaze.
Altia sighed. She knew what he was going to say. "A zero like me," She spoke softly. "Are we having that conversation again? Nero, look at me. And don't dare cry. I don't care what is your Level cap. If I would have you? Nothing would make me happier. And if we are engaged with the intention of marrying, there's no problem in sleeping on the same bed. Just sleeping."
And maybe a bit of cuddling, she mentally added. But nothing further than that.
"I think that's fine," He conceded. If she was the one proposing and setting the boundaries, it was more than he'd dare to ask.
"And if someone would tarnish my reputation, they would use the fact we spent four days in the Dungeon. No matter how caked in blood we left."
"You got a point there," He loosened up and took a good look at her. Altia was pretty but it was that girl-next-door kind of homely pretty, not the knock-your-socks-off glamorous pretty of court ladies. But with that dress and makeup, she almost, no, perhaps entirely crossed the gap.
"What are you looking at?" She asked with a sultry voice.
"You are gorgeous. Just like a princess."
She giggled, and to Nero, it was like he was hearing songbirds. "I never imagined you to be a flatterer. I may be delightfully wrong."
"Would you concede me a small request?" He asked with dreamy eyes.
She went into the defensive for a moment. What would Nero ask that would require this much skirting? It couldn't be that, could it?
"Depends on what it is. Ask," She demanded.
He sighed, collecting his courage. Altia held her breath, dreading to have to refuse him. "Would you dance with me?"
She exhaled. Then a huge grin opened up in the girl's face. This boy was so sweet! Her mind pushed away all the impure assumptions. Delighted with the candid request, she curtsied. "I would be delighted."
Nero was also tense but relaxed at her positive reaction. "Okay. Sit on that chair."
She had no idea why she had to sit but she did. The bloody corset helped her sit with the back straight. If she slumped, it would dig at her ribs. Altia was sure the torture instrument was meant to be like that. Nero went to the corner of the room and after a while stood tall and walked across the room, stopping before her. He bowed deeply.
"Would you grant me the pleasure of this dance, your highness?"
Oh. Roleplaying. Altia smiled and then remembered she was supposed to be in character then. She made a bored expression and regretted not picking up one of those fancy folding fans when she had the choice. They looked so silly. She scoffed and then looked sideways at Nero. She summoned all the haughtiness she could.
"I suppose I could entertain your request, Lord Nero. One dance and please do not embarrass me."
She raised her hand, he took it and then kissed her fingers. Altia felt a tingle, like lightning coursing from her fingers down the arm and into her whole being. She stood up and Nero seized her by the small of the back. She felt pressed against his chest and felt the difference. Was he always that strong or muscular? When she examined his sleeping form in the dim light of the Dungeon, it didn't seem so.
Without music, the two lovers danced in the ballroom of their minds. They spun and waltzed, awkwardly because neither had formal training, but had the time of their lives. For one moment, they forgot the horrors of the Dungeon in the company of each other.
----------------------------------------
The imaginary music ended after a while and Nero took her lips in a chaste kiss. Neither were tired from the dance but the day and the turbillion of new experiences and feelings were mentally taxing. In a good way.
"I love you," He said as their lips parted. Altia eyes were glimmering with tears that were forming despite her wishes. "Don't cry."
"Happy tears," She whispered. "I love you too. This trip, this vacation, is the best ever."
They held each other there, time but a fleeting notion. Nero took her hands off her back. She didn't let go of his neck. "It's late. We should get ready to sleep. There's more tomorrow and we'll have a lot of time to hug."
"Shall we take a bath?"
She asked, the important part intentionally missing to gauge his reaction. He didn't rise to the bait.
"Yes, you go first. What should we do with all these boxes?"
"Unpack them and put the clothes in the dresser, I guess. We will need to buy a couple briefcases to take all this with us."
"More shopping tomorrow. Great."
She slapped him playfully. "Yes, for cards and Adventurer stuff. Clothes and girly stuff was already done." She pointed out the boxes they were unpacking. Finding one specific box, she picked it up and took it to leave next to the bathtub curtain.
"What's that?" Nero asked.
"No. And could I ask you to go outside for a bit? I am ashamed of bathing in the same room as you. Please?" She asked with puppy eyes.
Okay. Maybe I'll go to the tavern to get myself drunk on ale."
"Please don't."
Nero left and wandered in the inn until he found his way to the common room of the inn. He wasn't used to drinking alcohol, nobody in their village did until they were considered adults. Which he was now if he thought about it. But he had no trouble finding a spot at the bar and the bartender put a mug of something in front of him without asking. He examined the drink and then took a sip. A fruity mead. Citrus but he couldn't identify which. Not wanting to get wasted, Nero just sipped his drink until it ended. The maid, Tania, approached him the moment he put his mug on the counter.
"Young master Nero, you are requested at your room," She said in a pleasant but neutral tone.
He took a level 3 Essence crystal, left it on the counter and returned to his room. He had no idea if the drink was paid for but he knew that 36 Essence was more than enough to pay for it. Nero knocked on the door.
"Enter," Altia's voice answered.
He opened the door and found Altia in bed, covered to the neck with the blankets. "You asked for me?"
"Yes, I asked Tania to fetch you. Please take your bath now. Your new pajamas are in the box next to the curtain, and do close them fully."
Nero nodded, went to the corner, pulled the curtain, and undressed. The water in the tub was still warm and he saw a stool he didn't before. He sat on it and pumped some warm water in a bucket then washed. After he was clean, he soaked in the tub. Once he was done putting on the cotton pajamas, way better than the linen ones he was used for, he pulled the curtain. Altia was standing in the middle of the room, with a bashful expression and body language.
But he paid no mind to her behavior. Altia was wearing a white lacy negligee that did a bad job of covering her legs and arms. The fabric seemed thin but fortunately not see-through and Nero's eyes were glued on her form.
"Altia, what is this?"
"My sleepwear. Did you like it? Rhynne helped me pick it. I couldn't sleep in that ballroom gown."
"Yes, it is... very nice. Must be comfortable."
Nice didn't do justice to what he had in front of him but he couldn't compromise on that.
"Yes, the bed is really good too. I was warming it up for you, would you come, please?"
He wanted to point the difference between sleeping together in the Dungeon and this. Not only they were struggling to keep alive but they were also dirty and smelly. But in that inn room? He was sure Altia had used some perfume. He could smell flowers on her even from that distance and... he wasn't sure he could resist.
Or if he should.
"Let's go to bed, Altia. You tell me how far I should stay."
She grinned but her eyes remembered him of a hungry creature. "Or how close. Deal." Altia took him by the hand and led him to bed.