Urielle adjusted her shawl as she stepped into the castle’s main hall. She tightly clutched her staff as the fortress’ grandeur. She was aware of the eyes on her; their interest in making her skin itch. Interacting with nobility was still new to her, and although she had many lessons about etiquette, she was nervous around them. Thankfully, she had four paladins to support her along with a heroic knight.

“Lady Urielle!” Halligan called out to her. Her free hand immediately adjusted her dress as he approached. “I’ll show you to the Duke’s office.” He held out his arm to her.

“Thank you.” Urielle smiled as she took his arm with shivering fingers. She became worried when she saw his nostrils flare.

“You’re wearing that perfume mistress Taela gave you?”

“I wanted to be presentable.” She replied cautiously. Her throat tightened making it hard to breathe. “Is it overbearing?”

“I’m certain he’ll enjoy it.” Halligan turned away, clearing his throat. His cheeks were bright red. “It reminded me of that night is all.”

“I see.” Her face felt suddenly warm, and she felt the sudden need to change the subject. “How have you been lately?”

“Fine, but I’ve been concerned lately.” Halligan took a deep breath. “Strange things are happening. Lady Priscilla’s been more assertive, and Lord Triemiere’s been spending a lot of time with the guards. The guards’ stores are mysteriously disappearing, and now there’s this new cult. Not to mention, we still haven’t made a move against Reviled Legion.”

“That’s why we’re here to request aid.” Urielle replied, “Reviled Legion is a threat to the city, and I’m certain the Duke wants it gone as well.”

Halligan’s shoulders fell at her words, and he gently placed a hand over hers. The servants eyed them as they moved through the halls. Urielle frowned at the possible rumors that would soon fill the hall, but her mind was taken turned to the group of men in front of her.

A group of men stepped out of a room. Although she hadn’t met him, she knew the Duke from his fine attire and well-groomed greying hair. The young man beside him must be his son Phineas, along with magister Cromwell. However, the man is ornate gold, red, and black robes was unfamiliar to her. A hood covered his unnaturally pale face, and his eyes were hidden behind tinted glasses. Rings adorned his long, spindly fingers.

“Thank you for your time, your Grace.” The pale man bowed with a charming smile.

“I always have time for an honorable member of my city.” The Duke’s boisterous laugh filled the hall. “I’m glad that there is someone tending to the refugees of this city.”

“I was simply doing the will of my Lady.” The man chuckled back. “She cares deeply for the languished and meager, so it was an honor to lead them to their purpose.” His nostrils flared widely, and his gaze fell onto the approaching group. “What have we here?” His twisted smile sent a shiver down Urielle’s back.

“I hope we’re not disturbing anything?” Halligan glared at the man.

“I was finishing up a meeting with Father Eirgn.” The Duke replied jovially. “His House of Destiny has taken to providing shelter and food for the refugees, and he’s even found them jobs. He’s been pivotal to the reconstruction of the slums.”

Urielle’s legs nearly gave out as she eyed the priest. “Is that so?”

“Are you not pleased, Saint Urielle?” Eirgn’s voice made her skin scrawl. Even though she couldn’t see his eyes, she suddenly felt naked beneath his gaze. “I figured the Heavenly Warden would be overjoyed to hear that the downtrodden were being care for.”

“It does bring me joy to see the refugees being cared for.” Urielle stuttered, “But I haven’t heard of you or your faith. For all I know, you could be a servant of the Dead Gods.”

“Lady Urielle, you will not defame my honored guest.” The Duke’s sharp growl made her flinch. “Father Eirgn’s actions have proven himself to be a boon to my domain, unlike yours.” His fiery glare made her shrink.

“Please, your Grace, don’t assault the poor girl with your words.” Eirgn said with a sharp smile. “She’s merely ignorant of our teachings.”

“I admit, I’m ignorant as well. I’d like to learn more about this Lady of Fate.” Phineas said intensely.

“As would I. We should have a small banquet to properly celebrate your deeds?” The Duke said, “You could enlighten us with your teachings.”

“May I bring a couple of my flock to join us?”

“Of course! Who should we expect?”

Urielle caught Eirgn’s eyes on her despite him facing the Duke. “Our first paladin and saint.” He said, “I’d also like to extend an invitation to you as well Saint Urielle.”

Urielle could barely smile. “I’d be glad to accept.”

----------------------------------------

Priscilla glanced over her cup as she watched master Legion’s familiar move about the table. The black rat skimmed through the financial documents. Magical ink seeped from its claw as it filled in the expenditures that her benefactor spent. His attendant sat across the table sipping on her tea.

“That should be our expenses.” Master Legion said as the cat stepped back.

Priscilla scanned through the papers. “You’re spending more money on resources?” She asked in confusion.

“Yes, we found ourselves a skilled blacksmith.” Master Legion replied with a chuckle. “His skill are exemplary, so we’ve tasked him with making weapons and armor for our knights. Their swords should be finished soon, so you can expect them to arrive any day now.”

“What about the armor?”

“We’ve asked our seamstress and smith to work together to make brigandine armor for each of the knights. However, they’ll need to come in for a fitting before the armor can be made, but they’ve promised us that it won’t take long to make.”

“I’ll have Lana deliver the order to Sir Danian.” Priscilla smiled brightly. “But why not have them wear plate mail?”

“Plate mail takes time to forge, and we believed that you’d want the knights to make their debut soon.”

“True, Kogna and Phineas believe they’re ready to see true combat.” She sat up straight. “Sir Danian is on par with Sir Halligan, and his spars with Phineas are quite intense.”

“You’re making my ears burn.” They turned to see Phineas enter the room. He looked at the cat sitting on the central table. “I had hoped to finally meet you in person, master Legion.”

“We apologize your Grace, but our condition makes any form of travel difficult.”

“To what do we owe the pleasure, brother?” Priscilla smiled politely despite the strain in her voice.

“I’ve come to inform you that father is hosting a small banquet in a few days.” Phineas replied gently. “He wishes to honor Father Eirgn for his charitable work with the lower city and with the refugees. Since I heard you were meeting with master Legion, I wanted to extend an invitation to him as well.”

“So, this would be their proper introduction to the court?” Priscilla’s eyes sparkled. “We could even introduce the Knights of the Withered Thorn. Master Legion, you must come!”

“We are honored, but I fear we must decline.”

“That’s a shame.” Phineas sighed, glancing over at Meridith.

“However, it would be rude of us not to send a representative. Meridith, can go in our stead.”

Meridith bowed with a warm smile. “It would be my honor master.”

“It would be my pleasure to be your escort, if you’d like?” Phineas clasped his hands behind his back. Priscilla tried not to chuckle at her brother’s courting attempt.

Support the creativity of authors by visiting Royal Road for this novel and more.

“I’d be honored, your Grace.” Meridith smiled brightly at him. Her hooded gaze made him blush. “Would it please your grace to coordinate our outfits.”

“Of course.”

Meridith’s smile widened as she sauntered towards him. “Perhaps we should meet beforehand. That way we have plenty of time to prepare.”

“I’d… like that.” He took her delicate hand. “Are you available tomorrow?" Meridith glanced at the familiar on the table.

“We’ll see to it that she’s available.” Master Legion replied. “Do enjoy yourself dear. You deserve it.”

Meridith curtsied and turned to Phineas with a smile. “I’m eager for tomorrow.”

“As am I.” Phineas smiled back. He gently kissed her knuckles. “I’ll have a carriage pick you up tomorrow around noon.”

“Well, then we’d better get going.” Meridith chuckled. “I still have some work left to do.” She curtsied to the nobles. “Please excuse me, your graces.” Prisicilla watched as her brother kept his gaze on the beautiful woman.

When the door closed, and the familiar vanished, she couldn’t hold back her laughter. “Are you pleased with yourself brother?”

“She is a beautiful and capable woman.” Phineas cleared his throat. “Is it wrong for me to be attracted to her?”

“It’s the first time I’ve seen you take an interest in a woman.” Her smile became tender. “I’m glad you’ve found someone.”

“Not all of us live in fairytales, dear sister.”

A knock interrupted their conversation, and a servant entered. “I apologize, but Lord Olivar wishes to speak with Lady Priscilla.”

Priscilla released a sharp breath. “Show him in.” The large man stormed into the sitting room almost immediately.

The man’s twisted smile disgusted her, as did the sweat seeping from his brow. “Thank you for seeing me. I’ve heard that there is to be a banquet, and I was hoping that you’d do me the honors of being your escort.”

“No.”

Olivar gasped for breath. “But my lady, you’ll need an escort.”

“I’ll be escorted by my personal knight, Sir Kogna.” She scoffed and dismissed him with a wave. “Go pay for a whore, or have your slave escort you to the banquet, for you will not have the honor of being mine. Now leave.” Olivar released a low growl, but he turned around and left. “I look forward to the day when he leaves.”

----------------------------------------

Olivar muttered under his breath. “How dare that petulant child treat me like that.” His teeth were hurting from grinding against each other. “That damned bitch needs to be put in her place.”

“Master, how did your meeting with Lady Priscilla go?”

Olivar glared at his slave. “Does it look like it went well?” He snapped. “That spoiled child tossed me aside and told me to hire a whore to escort.” He chewed on the edge of his thumb. “I overheard Sir Phineas ask a servant of master Legion to the banquet, and Lady Priscilla is being escorted by one of his knights. It feels like this whole family is dancing in his palm, and I’ll never marry into the Duke’s family.”

“Why not ingratiate yourself to this master Legion?” Myra replied, “It may help establish you further with the Duke.”

Olivar nodded in thought. “Have a made ready. We’re going to the Crimson Maiden.”

----------------------------------------

Olivar glared out the windows as the carriage moved through the streets. The renovations were going well, but the sight offended him. How much gold was being spent on this project? It was money that could, and should, be going to the domain’s coffers. What was the point of making people’s lives better? They would still complain about the nobility.

“Master, we’re here.” Myra tapped his shoulder.

“I can see that.” Olivar took a deep breath while adjusting his coat. “Time to make a good impression.”

He stepped out of the carriage and strode confidently into the tavern. Unlike his last visit, it was completely empty. That was partly due to it being the middle of the day, but he was still grateful, especially when his eyes landed on the gorgeous woman behind the bar.

“Welcome back my lord.” Ada’s cheerful smile drew a smirk. “To what do we owe the pleasure?” Her eyes fluttered gleefully.

“Would you believe me if I said that I missed your company?” He sauntered over to the bar, eyeing the other women. Lady Mina was nowhere in sight.

Ada ran a finger along her lips. “Considering our last conversation, I might.” She ran a seductive finger down his round chest. “But I get the feeling that you’re here for a different purpose.”

“You’re an insightful woman. I’m a little jealous of your master.” Olivar started kissing her hand. “I’m here to see you master. Is he in?”

“Master Legion surrounds himself only with the best, and he is.” He noticed her smile fade a little. “He’s currently being entertained now. Let me go inform him of your arrival.” She turned to the other women. “See to it that our noble guest is comfortable, please.”

Olivar couldn’t take his eyes off Ada as she headed to the basement stairs. She was by far the most beautiful woman he’d ever seen, and he wanted her badly. Perhaps he could convince this master Legion to sell her?

The barmaids soon had an impressive spread of food and drinks lined along the bar. Each bite was delicious, and the drinks were pleasing to his throat. It may not be the feasts he was used to, but it was easily the best he’d ever had, and Olivar’s envy grew.

Ada was right. This master Legion surrounded himself with the best. The women tending the tavern were beautiful as well as skilled. He spared no expense when it came to the quality of food and drink, and yet he wasted it solely on adventurers and commoners. What would possess a man to do this? What could he gain?

“Master Legion is ready, my lord.” A sultry voice tickled his ears. He was so deep in thought that he hadn’t realized Ada was there. Her arms were wrapped around his neck, and her breasts pressed firmly against him. “I quite enjoy your thinking face, my lord.”

“I was simply appreciating your master’s tastes.” Olivar chuckled. “Please show me to him.”

Ada took his arm and led him downstairs. He was impressed with the smaller bar but wondered why it was hidden. His question was answered when he saw the hideous man sitting in the box with a lovely zymarrian woman.

“Lord Olivar Triemiere, we presume?”

“And you must be master Legion.” Olivar scoffed, taking him in. “I’m not impressed.” The air suddenly turned cold as Ada stepped away, sitting next to her master.

“Please do not insult our master.” Ada’s smile had lost its charm. “It’s quite rude.”

“Easy now, dear Ada.” Master Legion chuckled, pressing his head against hers. “I’m certain there is a reason, the fifth son of Viscount Triemiere is here.” Olivar’s throat went dry. “I’m certain he’s here to negotiate some agreement between us. That way he can use our association to his advantage. Are we correct?”

“You’re well informed.”

“Knowledge is power, even you should know that.”

“Yes, it is as you said. I’ve heard about your renovations, and I’m impressed with what I’ve seen.” Olivar couldn’t help but shiver under master Legion’s piercing stare. “I was hoping we could help each other.”

“And what would we get from such an arrangement?”

“What’s more valuable than knowing a viscount’s son?” Olivar growled.

Master Legion glared back at him. His red eyes glowed menacingly. “No wonder Lady Priscilla despises you.” His growl made Olivar flinch. “You are an ass who relies on your father’s title to get your way. You are utterly pathetic.”

“Now see here!” Olivar replied sternly, but he couldn’t find the courage to keep it under master Legion’s dark stare. “You can’t speak to me that way! Right Myra?” He turned to his slave, but she was cowering on the floor. He turned back, and what he saw made his own legs fail.

Master Legion was no longer a hideous man, but a monster entirely made of metal. Sharp clawed feet clacked against the stone as it stepped out of the box. Olivar glanced at Ada and the zymarrian, but neither woman was fazed by his transformation.

“You may be a pathetic man, but we still have some use for you.” Olivar shook as it approached. A claw wrapped around his neck and lifted him off the ground. “Are you worth it though?” Its lower face opened, and a bladed tongue lashed at his face. His legs suddenly felt warm and wet.

“I don’t think so master!” The zymarrian woman cackled at his cowardice.

“Truly disgusting.” Ada scoffed. “Girl, clean that up now before it stains the floor.”

“I-I don’t…”

“Then use your dress.” He heard Myra cry as she approached.

“Please, don’t kill me. I’ll do anything!” Olivar croaked between sobs. “I can make you rich and powerful. I promise!” The monster’s laughter made him cry louder.

“Truly pathetic.”

“That may be master, but he could still be of use.” Ada replied. “Having a noble under your thumb could be a boon should you turn your gaze beyond Jericho.”

“Excellent point.”

Olivar screamed, but it felt like he was being strangled by fire. His throat was sore from all the screaming, and what little air remained in his lungs was expelled when he landed on the floor. The monster’s metal foot pressed hard against his chest, and it stared into his eyes.

“You aren’t worthy of a slave crest.” It said, as an ethereal red chain. The pain in his neck intensified when the monster pulled on the chain. “You will follow our commands exactly to the letter. Failure to do so will end in your death. Do you understand?”

“Yes.”

“Good. Prove yourself, and you may be worthy of a crest.” It turned its gaze to Myra. “Unfortunately for you, we have no use for a slave.”

Myra cried and threw herself at the monster’s feet. “Don’t kill me! I can be of use.” Her wails echoed off the walls. “I can… I can give you Sir Halligan!”

“What would a hero want with a slave?” The zymarrian woman replied with a condescending smirk.

“He’s in love with me. You could use that to your advantage.”

“Is she telling the truth?” The monster asked.

“Yes, I even promised to sell Myra to him for seven hundred gold.”

The monster returned its gaze to Myra, and she shook fearfully. It bent downward unnaturally and lifted her by the chin.

“How fortunate for us.” It gently petted her, staring into her eyes. “You are a far greater prize than your master. Show us your crest.” Myra nodded and quickly removed the shawl around her neck. She flinched when the monster ran a claw gently across her skin. “Do you wish to serve us?”

Myra took its hand and pressed the claw harder against her skin. “Yes.” She nodded. “I pledge myself to you. Make me yours… master.” She screamed in pain as the magic seared itself into her skin. When the pain stopped, the monster scooped her into its arms.

“What are you doing?” Myra asked hoarsely.

“Taking you upstairs, so that you may rest, and get a bath.” Its mouth opened, and its tongue caressed her cheeks. “Unlike this pig, we cherish our servants.”

“Thank you, master.” The monster moved towards the stairs and disappeared beyond the door.

A whimper escaped Olivar’s lips as he rolled onto his stomach. He desperately crawled towards the door, but two pairs of feet stopped him. He let out another whimper when he stared up at the two sneering beauties.

“How could you serve that monster?” He yelped as a foot struck his face.

“Do not speak of our great master like that you pig.” The zymarrian woman snapped.

“Now, now Cynmora.” Ada’s smile held nothing but contempt for him. “We don’t want to break the master’s new tool.” She placed her foot on top of his hand. “Let me give you a word of advice. Reviled Legion has no need for useless tools.” He groaned as she stepped down. “Do you understand?”

“Yes.”

“Good. Come Cynmora, we should go check on the new girl.” Olivar’s heart twisted in shame as he watched the two women leave.

“What have I done?”