Aarick still had far too many questions. However, he was also falling asleep.

Shoving a whole new language in my head makes me tired. Who knew?

Following after Lurona, he focused on his situation to stay awake.

He wasn’t stuck in the middle of the wilderness, dealing with insane cultists (other than for the briefest moment). The language barrier had been dealt with, and he could likely use the local magic system equivalent. Even better, while he would need to conceal his origin from the locals, a person in authority already knew who he was, where he was from, and had decided to help him with a cover story. There wasn’t some terrible risk of death if his secret got out, either, just dealing with nobles wanting to make him theirs because they could.

Admittedly, that was a definite downside from his perspective. He had a chance at power here, and wasting that would sting. Some part of him wouldn’t just let him coast. There were tangible benefits as part of that: cultivation could apparently massively increase someone’s lifespan. Ultimately, he wanted to go as far as his talent and luck would let him.

After that point, joining up with a noble house wouldn’t be too bad. He wouldn’t need to pretend to be straight, which was a fucking relief. It had been hard enough coming out, going back into the closet would have been excruciating.

And, as a plus, he could have his middle name become his official name here. It had been a pain in high school, having to explain that he wanted to go by his middle name and that no, it wasn’t pronounced “Eric,” but rather “uhr-rick”. He knew his parents were proud of their mixed heritage, tracing back to Scotland, the Nordic region, and Spain, among others. Why they wanted to inflict anachronistic names on their children was another matter.

Hell, Dolores was the only one with a normal sounding first name, and her name meant sadness.

Delores... yeah.

He wouldn’t just disappear. That was a minimum he was willing to accept from his life here. Even if he didn’t have the talent, even if it seemed impossible, whatever got in the way, he needed to let his parents know that he was safe. That was something he wasn’t willing to compromise on. He would do almost anything to make that happen.

And that was another point of luck. He wasn’t going to need to desperately leverage everything, or make drastic compromises to get the knowledge he needed, engage in illicit research, or hide his attempts. No, he was being given tutors and would be allowed to send a message. And, based on what Lurona had said, she believed it to be possible with the knowledge already available to the Empire.

He might still have many questions, but he was so incredibly lucky.

Lurona guided him out of the sitting room and back into her office, where she proceeded to sit back behind her desk, pulling out the elaborate wooden chair like it weighed nothing.

Aarick didn’t see or hear any signal, but the same man who had guided him here entered the room.

“Aarick,” she said, her voice crisp and professional, “please wait outside.”

“Ah, yes. Of course, Lurona.” He replied haltingly.

The man frowned at him with furrowed brows, almost looking angry, but said nothing as Aarick passed him and out of the office.

The intricately carved doors closed behind him. The straight geometric lines transitioned into graceful curves, the dark wood inlaid with some golden metal. The two tones complimented each other.

Aarick might not get art, but his exposure to high society was more than enough to understand that the doors were understated, elegant, and probably worth a ridiculous amount of money.

On Earth that would indicate either a true aficionado of the art style, someone who was wise enough to listen to their interior decorator, and or someone who knew how to show off their wealth in a tasteful manner.

Here… well, he couldn’t really say.

For the moment, he considered the doors so he didn’t fall asleep.

What level of craftsmanship was normal when ordinary people could live so much longer?

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Even someone with basic skills in construction could build an enormous house if they had a hundred years to work on it. And, if they worked on it for a hundred years, their skill wouldn’t remain basic for long.

His thoughts were interrupted by the doors opening again. The man walked through and closed them behind him. Afterwards, he bowed towards Aarick, with no trace of whatever had upset him before.

He spoke, “You are being hosted in one of our guest suites, please follow me.”

He stayed bowed after he finished speaking, obviously waiting for a response.

“Yes, please, lead the way,” he replied after a moments hesitation.

He followed the man down the same hall he had originally arrived by, and back to the glorious dome that had enthralled him briefly. They didn’t go back toward where he had stayed originally, though. Instead they entered one of three hallway’s opposite from the enormous pair of doors. Eventually, after going through two other circular domed room, and passing a number of smaller hallways, they entered into a hallway with nothing but doors on each side. Each set of doors slightly farther from the preceding ones. Finally, they reached a particular set of wooden doors flush with the stone walls, where they stopped.

The doors were the same dark wood that Aarick had seen used repeatedly throughout the building. They had delicate carvings, but no metal, with the exception of the handles. The delicate swooping handles were made of a dark shiny metal, and a small gem was set into each axis. The gems glowed faintly with inner luminescence.

“These are your rooms, sir.” the servant said, his voice brisk, but with a hint of deference. “I have been assigned as your attendant. Here is your key.”

I get a butler… well that is cool.

He reached into a pocket in his robes and pulled out a thin golden slip with a gem matching the ones already in the door handles. He extended it toward Aarick.

Aarick grabbed the slip from his attendant’s hand. He wasn’t sure what to do with it, but he brought it near the other gems, guessing it would do something. It turned out he was right; when the two grew near, the light in the doorknobs went out.

He tested one handle, and it turned smoothly. He opened the door to see a richly appointed hall.

Circles and lines were carved into the high ceiling, and light exuded out, casting the hall into a warm glow. Beneath them, a long plush rug extended down the middle of the floor. The floor was made of a golden wood, the grain showing clearly through a flawless polish. The single step on the wood before he reached the rug had no hint of roughness beneath his slippers. There was also no hint of give to the wood. There was no hint of the padding that would normally be part of a wooden floor at home.

Additional doors were set into the walls. Each was a set of double doors identical to the ones outside, except they were made of a golden wood that almost matched the floors. The doors had a slight hint of red added to the golden color, making them a hue somewhere between gold and copper.

The hallway proceeded some distance, with tapestries and large paintings situated periodically on the walls at regular distances, interspersed with statues and tables holding other adornments. The colors were neither overly bright, nor somber, leaving the hallway feeling distinctly neutral.

Aarick was curious to see more, but he was too tired to engage with anything right now.

He turned toward his attendant.

“I am quite tired. Please take me to bed.”

His attendant gave him a brief nod and then led him onward.

He followed him until they reached a set of double door close to the end of the hallway, then followed him through into a bedroom.

It was lushly appointed and it seemed focused on a level of decadent indulgence that veered on unhealthy. Either that or heavenly. Aarick decided he would need to do a thorough test to make a proper determination.

The mattress and duvet were sinfully soft and he left a deep indentation of his hand with a casual test. The indent gradually refilled as he looked about the rest of the room. The rug beneath his feet was at least twice as deep as any in the hallway, cradling his feet.

In one corner, an armchair was so overstuffed that it looked like it might burst and drown the whole room in a flood of fluff.

He was tempted to just climb into bed and sleep, but he should probably change.

A quick investigation into two of the doors found the bathroom and the closet.

The large bathroom contained something closer to the equivalent of a large Jacuzzi than an actual bathtub. Their mastery of indoor plumbing also contained something akin to a toilet, though it operated with continually flowing water instead.

The walk-in closet contained a multitude of clothes. They were mostly different styles of robes, in various colors. He noted that none of them had the golden yellow color that he had seen worn throughout the building.

Many pairs of slippers and actual shoes were included, some of them more practical than others. He wasn’t sure why anyone would want to want to wear that much lace, though he noticed with a minor shudder that there was a whole matching outfit, including the underwear…

Nope, just… nope. Never.

Somewhat at a loss, he gestured toward the clothes.

“What is appropriate to wear to bed?”

He gestured toward what he was already wearing.

“I woke up wearing this, but I have a feeling it isn’t normal sleepwear.”

I swear, if he points toward the lacy outfits, I will just sleep nude.

“No, sir,” came the reply. “I would recommend any of these.”

He gestured toward a section of nightgowns. Each was simple and subdued in color. The designs varied slightly, but overall they were a single layer of soft cloth formed into a tube with long flared sleeves that draped across the arms.

His attendant hadn’t moved.

Is he supposed to dress me?

“I don’t know the proper protocol,” he said. “Am I supposed to dismiss you, have you dress me…?”

His voice trailed off and he tried not to be awkward.

“That is up to you, sir, and a matter of personal preference.”

Thank God.

“Very good, you are dismissed.”

“Thank you, sir. If you need anything, I will be right outside.”

A quick trip to the bathroom and then he was dressed in proper sleepwear.

Shortly afterward, he was unconscious, snoring and blissfully unaware.

His attendant, waiting outside, merely smiled and shook his head.