3.

“This is your room!” Announced the young lady as she walked beside him. Demian was ushered inside the room by another silent guard, which he presumed was also protected from his voice. It was best to be cautious as much as possible.

“It’s one of the guest rooms we had that was already set up. It’s not meant for royalty, really,” she said, sounding almost embarrassed for a moment, before she self-consciously added, “but you are my employee right now, so it’s only fair if you don’t have the best room, right? I don’t think it would be fair anyway for the lady of the Tilman house to have a lesser room than the one she is employing, even if he is of royal blood.”

“I’m sure it’s a wonderful room,” he said while taking the trouble to smile. He had no idea what the room looked like, to be honest, but pleasantries like these always went well. When in doubt, he always chose to be pleasant and polite.

“Of course, after being on the run this must be heavenly! Oi! Come and sit down here, we must have a talk!”

She grabbed and pulled him into a chair, which was indeed very soft. Her touch was less welcome, especially because she was forceful as she moved him where she wanted, rather than guiding and letting him find his way on his own. Kinari had become better at this lately.

“Wow, this is a very comfortable chair!” He said out loud as he sat.

“It is, isn’t it?” She agreed, excitement blossoming in her voice once more. “We had those made by a craftsman from the next town over, a little place called Antias. He makes chairs for many of the noble families around the area, you know? People swear by him, such beautifully carved designs. Such exquisite fabrics!”

Little of which interested him because he was blind. “It must have been very expensive!” He said, faking interest.

“Oh, money is no issue. Father’s business is doing splendidly well! Did you know he opened a new workshop? Well, he did! That means he owns twelve now! All making muskets and gun parts for the war effort!”

“You mean the war effort against Viridia, the kingdom I come from?” Demian asked, his voice deceptively innocent.

“Yes, that!” She replied, and her voice showed no hint of self-reflection or having noticed anything amiss with what he said. “The Tilman family is doing so well! Truly blessed by Ellora, as they say! Why, we received the head of the House of Sofkos right here in our house a month ago for a party! They only stayed for one night, but father said he never spent as much money on a single day as that one. Imported spices all the way from the Helion Empire and oodles of musicians and entertainers and servants! It was a feast as good as any royal you’ve had, I’m sure!”

“I’m glad your family business is going so well,” he said with a polite smile. But a visit from the head of the Sofkos family was an important thing indeed for a non-noble family, even one as rich as they claimed to be. He tabled that information in his head for later use.

“Do they have large feasts at the royal palace? I mean, back in Viridia?” She asked. “And what kind of people get invited to it? Only, I’ve read the gazettes and talked with some of my friends, but - ”

“I would love to talk more with you about the parties and feasts that happen at the royal palace…” Said Demian, interrupting her as gently as possible. His voice sounded excited, as if nothing would please him more than discussing the details of his latest ball. “But first there’s a question I must ask you. You proposed that I work for you, in exchange for my safety. What did you mean by that?”

At this her voice faltered, and when she spoke again it didn’t have that excited exuberance from before. Her tone was more guarded and serious. “I’ve heard that the royals got the gift of making people follow whatever they say. Is that true?”

Demian almost winced, but managed to keep his face in a polite smile. “Yes, it’s true, with some limitations.”

“Limitations like what?” She asked.

Demian showed his discomfort openly now. No noble liked disclosing the details and weaknesses of their Gifts, and that went doubly so for when talking to a non-noble. He decided instead to be vague.

“Oh, there’s a few. They have to be able to listen, for example. And I have to be able to speak. If I’m out of breath or have a sore throat I can’t do it. Commanding people also tires me out if I do it over very long periods of time. Like, a day or so.”

The last one was a lie, mixed in with the truth and close enough that she probably would not notice. Something that might come in handy later.

“But can you make someone forget something? Or change their opinion on something, maybe?”

Another internal debate, but he decided to be truthful there. Any lies he made in this area could be easily disproved, so he decided to be cautious. “Ah. No, I’m afraid not. I am able to control people’s actions, but not really their minds. I can make them raise their hand, but I can’t make them want to raise their hand or think there’s an important reason for them to raise their hand, for example. This also means, yes, the people I’m controlling know they’re being controlled.”

“Oh. I see.” She sounded disappointed.

“Was there something you wanted me to do?” He asked, trying to sound out her intentions. “Like make someone forget something?”

“Something like that...” She muttered. “So, your voice. Try it on me, will you? Just make me raise my left arm, that’s all. Don’t make me do anything else, mind you. I’m a proper lady and you’re still under watch!”

At least she was specific, but Demian still felt a strong revulsion at this proposal. How could anyone willingly subject themselves to something like this? But what he said instead was, “are you sure? It can be a little uncomfortable sometimes for people when their bodies move without them willing it so.”

“I want to see it for myself,” was her reply.

He sighed. From the start he knew the chances of him changing her mind were slim, but he still had to try.

“Only, it’s also a little exhausting for me, so it’s not something I want to do unless - ”

“I, Heidi II, give full permission for you, Demian ex, um… Viryon, to use your Gift on me in this specific capacity. Come on, just do it! Raise my left arm, right now.”

“RAISE YOUR LEFT ARM,” he said. He heard the motion, the small gasp of surprise. It was one thing to hear about it, another entirely to see it with your own eyes. Or feel it in your own body.

“So it is true,” she said, a hint of awe creeping into her voice. “You really are the prince... And you really have the Royal Gift.”

“I’m afraid so,” he said with a playful smile that hopefully hid how much bitterness he actually felt on the subject. “YOU CAN LOWER YOUR ARM, IF YOU WANT.”

There was a moment of silence, which Demian let continue while he thought of the possibilities. Depending on what she asked of him, this could either go well or very badly.

“Alright, here’s my offer,” she said. “You can stay here, comfortable and well-hidden, while the war lasts. We don’t know when that will happen, but until the war ends you’re in danger. But don’t worry, I can keep you hidden in our manor and well-fed and taken care of. I promise you we can afford as many luxuries as any noble house! You’ll get proper fancy treatment here!”

This sounded good, which automatically made Demain wary, even as he smiled. “That sounds wonderful! And what would you like in exchange?” He asked as patiently and politely as possible.

“I want you to control certain people. Strategically. Nothing much,” she said.

“Any specific people you have in mind?”

She hesitated. “My fiance.”

Demian allowed his face to show surprise. “Wait, what?”

It was like the opening of a dam, her words flooding over him. “I am engaged to that man but here’s the problem: I did not choose him! Never did. And I’ve read in all the books about romance and love and...! Well, whatever it is I feel for him, it is not love! I don’t like him, he’s an awful man! He’s ugly and mean I don’t care for him one bit! I’ve even heard of other nobles laughing at him! How am I supposed to marry that? But papa says that I have to, because it will be good for the family and he won’t take no for an answer no matter how hard I tell him… Ugh! It’s so frustrating! I’m trapped and there’s no way out! Which is where you come in-”

“Wait,” said Demian, sounding confused. “You want to get out of an engagement?”

“Yes…?”

“Why not decline him politely then?” Asked Demian. “As far as I know, merchant families don’t have arranged marriages.”

“Huh,” she huffed. “You’d think so, don’t you? But problem is: he’s a noble from the house of Sofkos. So papa is going crazy at the opportunity of marrying our family to a noble bloodline, and I get to pay the price! I mean, he’s a noble but he doesn’t even have a gift, right? He’s just a second child, barely any noble blood in him, I bet! Not as bad as a third child, but still! If I marry him the other nobles will laugh at me just like they do at him! He certainly doesn’t act like someone with good breeding! The man’s a brute and I hate him!”

Ah, a second child. That explained part of it. A child of nobles sometimes did not inherit their Gift. They were still cherished and taken care of, although perhaps less so than the gifted children. But they were still nobility because they might yet produce noble children in their future marriages. But when a noble without any gifts had another ungifted child? That was called a ‘second child’. They were given less rights, could never inherit land and, as far as Demian understood, were mostly there to be married into other branches of the family or to other noble houses. A third child was even less than that, the last step of what could be considered nobility. Children of a third child were not considered noble anymore, which meant that third childs were generally allowed to marry anyone who would have them, including commoners. But the fact that the Sofkos family was willing to marry a merchant's daughter to a second child was surprising on its own. Demian didn't have a full grasp of the local politics, but it was very rare for such a union to happen.

“I can do better than him!” She insisted. “But now papa keeps insisting that if I don’t marry that man he’ll disown me! Me! Disown his only daughter, would he? And during the party I told you before? I asked the Viscount ever-so-gently if it was acceptable for me to marry his brother’s son and you know what he said? He approved of it! He even encouraged me not to delay the marriage! And now I’m getting pressured from all sides and it’s horrid!”

“Wow, that sounds like an awful situation,” said Demian, frowning and trying to sound kind and empathetic while the gears turned in his mind. The war effort required all sorts of things: supplies, uniforms and, of course, weapons. If Heidi II’s father was a successful weapons maker as she claimed, that would make him useful to the Sofkos family. So they were throwing the Tilman family a bone in the manner of a second child, a chance of ascending into nobility. It was not a sure thing by any means, but it was the only way for a commoner's bloodline to somehow ascend into nobility. Other than a blood pact with a noble, that is. In return, Demian suspected the Sofkos family would get all the guns they needed for the war effort. Interesting.

“And this is where you come in!” She said, interrupting his train of thought. “You can make him break up with me and leave me alone! Do that and I promise I can keep you safe here as long as this war lasts! I can give you whatever you want in exchange for that!”

“Ah, so that’s the job you told me about,” said Demian.

“Well, I might ask you to do a few more things here and there,” she said off-handedly. “There’s a cleaning servant for example, that keeps leaving dirt hidden under rugs and furniture unless we scold her for it and it is so obnoxious! Maybe you can fix her too? Small things like that, but this is the most important task I would hire you for.” She leaned forward, her voice getting closer to him and more personal. “So… Can you do it? Can you make my fiance break up with me?”

Now the gears turning in his head multiplied, considering not only the problem she offered him, but also what his situation was and how he could take control of it. He had no illusions about how precarious his situation was. Refusing her outright would only make her angry and there was still the possibility she would sell his location to the Adran nobility. But her request sounded honest, and he had to admit, his current chair was extremely comfortable. As for her request...

“I can’t control him and make him want to refuse you or run away,” he said out loud, while considering the problem. “But… There are other things I might be able to do. I could make him spill his secrets to you, maybe? That could give you some sort of leverage as blackmail.”

“Oh wait, so can you do that?” She asked.

He nodded. “I can make people speak the truth about a subject, if I command them. I can’t make them volunteer the information on their own, but with a little time I should be able to get some secrets out of him. Maybe that will allow you to break the engagement?”

“But what if he doesn’t have a good secret?” She asked. “What then?”

“There might be other ways to force him to break off the engagement,” he said, being purposefully vague.

“I don’t want you to just kill him!” She insisted. “If his death gets blamed on our family that would be horrid!”

And also killing people is immoral. And dangerous. thought Demian. What he said instead was: “There might be other solutions. Such as controlling him and forcing him to write something incriminating, with his own handwriting. If he has no terrible secrets we could give him one. And then, even if he claimed he was being controlled it would still cast doubt over his loyalty. That alone might be enough to make him break up with you.”

“Oooh, that’s smart! That’s really smart!” She said, clapping her hands. “See? I knew hiring you was the right decision.”

“And, if I do this, you promise to keep both me and my companion safe and secure? In exchange for my services?”

“Sure, sure!” She said, barely paying attention to him. He heard her rise from the chair and her voice darted across the room as she moved excitedly here and there. “Oh, this is splendid! To think I’ll be free from him! I could actually choose who to marry or not! And not only that, but think of the other possibilities! Oh, this is grand! The first merchant family with noble employees! Oh, you’ve made me so happy!”

And she suddenly hugged him, the fabric of her dress as well as her expensive perfume being shoved against his face. He struggled hard not to react by pushing her away, but it was a good thing his face was hidden.

“I’m glad my suggestion pleased you,” he said once the hug was over. “We can discuss the details of this plan later. But Kinari, my companion. Is she alright at the moment?”

“Oh, I’m sure she is fine!” Said Heidi. “Let’s talk about the plan some more! We must be proper prepared for this, down to the last detail!”

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

“Hey!” Kinari kicked at the ladder with her boot, causing the metal to rattle unpleasantly. “Hey, assholes! I need to take a piss!”

She heard some grumbling, muffled by the trapdoor and the floor, which she took as encouragement to kick the ladder again.

“Come on, assholes. I can’t hold it in all day!” She yelled.

“Do we have to wear the earmuffs for this one?” Asked a voice directly above her.

This tale has been pilfered from Royal Road. If found on Amazon, kindly file a report.

“Nah, that’s the other one. The small one. She didn’t say nothing about the flithblood,” said another. Kinari glared at the ceiling as she heard them fiddling with the trapdoor bolt lock.

The trapdoor was opened, shining light into the dingy whine cellar and making her wince and narrow her eyes. At the top, looking down on her, was one of the guards that had escorted her downstairs at gunpoint. He still held a musket, she saw, and it was pointing at her again.

“What’s all this noise now?” He barked, glaring down at her. He was clean-shaven and his hair was cut short in military style, but Kinari knew military musketmen and they did not treat their weapons like that. For one, a simple mistake on his trigger finger could kill his prisoner, and second, taking a shot in front of an open hole without kneeling first was a good way to lose your balance and fall into that hole.

“I need to piss somewhere,” she said bluntly.

“Find a corner somewhere and don’t bother us no more,” barked the bodyguard, moving to close the trapdoor again.

“Fuck you! I’m not some sort of animal, you fucking prick!” She shouted. “If I don’t get a pot or if you don’t take me somewhere else I’ll pull one of those fucking barrels out and piss inside!”

“Don’t! Don’t you fucking dare, you gross little filthblood!” Shouted the bodyguard pointing his musket at her again. She moved out of his view and further into the wine cellar.

“Shit…!” Said a second guard, trying to get a look at where Kinari was. “What do we do about this?”

“Maybe we should tie her up,” growled the first guard. “The lady of the house said nothing about tying her down.”

“But if the little lady gets pissed, are you going to be the one who’s explaining to her why you did it?”

“Hold up, me?” Said the other man. “Listen, if we do this we do this together, the blame gets spread, yeah?”

They heard sounds coming from the wine cellar, which sounded suspiciously like someone trying to move something heavy and made of wood, as it brushed and scraped against stone.

“Don’t you fucking do it!” Shouted the guard, again, while trying to get a bead on her, but he was prevented by the small opening of the trapdoor. She was out of sight.

The head cook, who had been watching this spectacle while frowning, stepped up “Honestly, Gregor! You can’t expect us to work in the kitchen like this, now can you?” She said while casting a fearful glance at the trapdoor. Behind her, one of the kitchen servants tried to tilt her head to get a better look. “Keeping that creature down there while we work hard to make dinner! Why, it’s not safe, it’s not!”

“I just follow what lady Heidi told us to do,” replied Gregor, looking increasingly uncomfortable.

“What is all this commotion?” Asked another voice, and when the owner of the voice walked into the room all others looked at him and went quiet.

The man was in his fifties, with greying hair and beard that were both immaculately trimmed. His clothes were also equally pristine, although the simple black tones still marked his position as a servant. He swept the room with a severe glare and raised one eyebrow. “Well?”

“Ooh, Wenzel!” Gregor perked up immediately. “You’re a sight for sore eyes! We got a problem here!”

And as Wenzel approached him, the guard told him quickly what had happened, Kinari’s shouting and demands, his response and her threats, as well as their uncertainty regarding Heidi’s orders. Wenzel listened in silence to all of this before speaking.

“We should do as she asks,” he said. “Take her out via the door and to the outhouse. I will accompany you. One guard should suffice.”

“Are you sure?” Asked Gregor, scratching his head and looking uncertain.

“Are you questioning my orders?” Asked Wenzel

“No, no! Not at all! It’s just that we should be careful...”

“Are you saying you cannot guard one unarmed woman by yourself?” Asked Wenzel, still staring at him with his even stare, one brow raised in curious disdain. “Well, no matter. I will go with you and make sure this is done properly. Until the lady of the house says otherwise, the half-blood is not to be harmed, understand?”

Deep in the darkness below, Kinari smiled.

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

A few minutes later the door in the wine cellar unlocked and opened.

“Come out slowly, filthblood! No sudden moves!” Shouted Gregor, as he pointed his musket at the entrance, trying to see into the darkness of the cellar. Beside him Wenzel took a step back and waited.

Kinari walked from the entrance and into the light, squinting as it hit her eyes. She was outside the manor, and the large door they had opened led to a ramp up to the ground floor, all paved in cobblestones. The ramp was probably used to roll barrels into and out of the cellar, when necessary. She looked at Gregor and Wenzel and grinned, showing her tusks.

“What is your name, madam?” Asked Wenzel, looking down at her from farther up the ramp, his voice low and polite.

“Kinari,” she said, taken aback for a moment at the unexpected question.

“Very well. I am Wenzel, the majordomo of the Tilman family manor.” He explained. “We will take you to the servant’s outhouse and then escort you back here when you are done. I hope that will suffice?”

Kinari glanced at the single guard, pointing a rifle at her and trying his best to look intimidating, and at the majordomo who was pushing fifty at least and no muscle to speak of.

“Sure,” she said, grinning.

They took her to a small wood shack behind the servant’s house, which she went in without complaint. After a few minutes’ wait, she was out again and looking more relived, a large smile on her lips. She waited until the two were escorting her back to the cellar before making her move.

“And what’s that?” She asked, pointing to another building near the manor.

It was over in an instant. The moment Wenzel glanced, she quickly closed the distance and, grabbing a loose cobblestone, hidden in her armor, hit Gregor in the stomach with it, before getting his musket and pointing it at his head while her other arm wrapped around his neck.

“Please, calm down!” Said Wenzel, backing away a step and raising his hands. “There is no need for violence!”

“Yeah, and so long as me and my friend can go from this place, no violence! Sure!” Said Kinari, taking a step back and dragging Gregor with her. “But make the wrong move and this guy’s skull is going to get new ventilation.”

Gregor grimaced, his face going red with straining. “Only… One shot… Filth…”

Gregor tried to grab at the musket, but Kinari flexed her arm muscles, cutting his air and making him choke until he let go of her musket and she relented. There were others rushing towards them now. More guards, carrying muskets and shouting. Other servants were watching from a distance, out of morbid or frightful curiosity.

“Stop there, filthblood!” Said one of the guards, pointing his musket.

“Careful there, or you might shoot your friend, asshole!” Shouted back Kinari, moving to put Gregor in the line of fire.

“Everyone calm down!” Said Wenzel. He did not shout it, but his voice was loud and authoritative, the voice of one used to commanding people. And everyone did grow silent, allowing him to continue.

“I am the head servant of this household, and more valuable than the guard you’re holding hostage right now,” he said, looking straight at Kinari. Her eyes flickered between him and all the other guards that were slowly surrounding her, trying to keep an eye on all of them. “I also do not know how to fight and am not very strong.”

“So what?” She barked, nervously looking around her.

“I am saying I would make a better hostage,” he said, his voice confident and calm, and with only the barest hint of hesitation.

She snorted, her eyebrows going up. “You volunteering, old man?”

He nodded. “I will take responsibility,” he said. “Let me take his place.”

She hesitated, but what he said was true. “Alright! But come close to me, very slowly, back turned. And no funny business from you either, get it?” She asked the last question at Gregor, flexing her biceps again to threaten him, making him wheeze. Wenzel turned around and slowly walked backwards to her, taking slow, gentle steps.

She threw Gregor to the ground and grabbed the majordomo in the blink of an eye. Nobody reacted. “Props to you, old man. Not many would have the balls to do that,” she whispered to him, her voice so low only he could hear. Then she raised her voice again, shouting at the others. “Alright! I got your major-thingy here hostage! Now take me to my friend, wherever you’re keeping him! And stay a good distance from me if you don’t want to get his brains all over my clothes!”

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

“I can invite him here for a party, or maybe a hunt? He doesn’t usually come when I invite him, you know. And how does he think that makes me feel? But he likes his hunts so maybe that might be a better idea. Horrid thing, hunting! Dreadfully boring. We have to follow the men through the forest, trudging through dirt and mud...”

Heidi the 2nd, Lady of House Tilman, made a noise of disgust, before continuing to describe just how she found hunting unpleasant and far inferior to balls. Demian sat patiently and listened, when he heard other noises getting louder that diverted his attention.

“What is that noise?” He asked, interrupting her.

“Hm? What noise?”

Both went quiet for a moment and Demian heard more clearly now. A large group of people moving together. He hears their boots on the wood floor of the mansion. Also shouts of surprise and anger. Some sort of commotion. The noise was getting closer and closer to them.

“Now that you mention it, I hear something too. It’s weird, it is!” Said Heidi, getting up from her chair and walking away from him. But even as he heard her steps moving away, he also heard more hurried steps coming to right outside the bedroom, followed by a knock.

“Lady Heidi!” Said a male voice, slightly out of breath.

The door opened. “What is going on?” She asked, impatience in her voice.

“It’s the other prisoner! The one with monster blood!” Said the man. “She escaped and took Wenzel hostage! She’s coming here now for the other one!”

“What?”

“I’m sorry?”

Demian and Heidi both reacted at the same time, with surprise and concern. Now the door was open Demian could hear better what they were speaking. Threats of violence, steps of someone walking up the stairs, and a familiar voice replying to the threats with scorn.

Demian struggled not to sigh. He was already strained trying to manage the situation, keeping his captor happy while getting information out of her and planning his next move. This was not helping things. She was probably trying to be helpful, bless her, but how did she expect to get out of this mess?

“What’s this? How did she escape?” Asked Heidi.

“She said she needed to go to, erm, relieve herself, Lady Heidi. She threatened to… Well, regardless. She took Wenzel hostage and is forcing her way upstairs! Do we shoot the two of them?“

“Umm…” Damien got up from the chair and took a few, careful steps towards the two that were talking, both ignoring him.

“Are you daft? Wenzel’s been with our family since I was a child! Can’t you whack her or something?”

“She’s got a rifle, miss! No way to attack her without someone risking their lives.”

“Excuse me!” Demian raised his voice, which did not come easily to him. Heidi and the guard both went quiet, which only made him feel more uncertain, but he continued. “Will you let me deal with her? She is my loyal servant, and I’m sure she’s only worried about me. I can stop her without anyone getting hurt.”

“Of course!” Said Heidi, her voice rising with glee. “Yes! You tell your servant to pipe down, will you? Stefan! Oh, silly of me, he can’t listen… You stay where you are, Demian!”

Which confirmed to him that there was a guard with ear protection nearby. He heard some shuffling of feet moving away from him, followed by whispers. Heidi quietly giving the guard orders? He filed this information away for later.

He also heard the commotion getting louder and closer to his room, through the door.

“Lady Heidi!?” Hissed the guard outside, desperation creeping in his voice. He was panicking now.

“Right!” Said Heidi. “Deal with her then, Demian! That is your first task as my employee. And make sure Wenzel is unharmed! He is a tip-top majordomo!”

She took his hand and forcefully dragged him out of the room. The commotion was drawing closer, in the same room as he was now. He heard boots on wooden floors, shouting, and then…

“Oh, fuck! There you are!” A familiar voice.

“Here I am,” said Demian, his voice small.

“Alright! You guys let him go! He comes with me, we walk away until outside the gates, and then we let the old man go! Nobody gets hurt, yeah?” Shouted Kinari. Her next orders were in a lower voice, directed at him. “There’s a banister in front of you, Demain. If you follow it to your right you’ll reach some stairs.”

“... What do you think you’re doing?” He asked, keeping his voice calm.

“What am I…? I’m getting us out of here, that’s what!”

“And once we’re out?” He asked.

“Once we’re out what?” She asked back, sounding impatient.

“Once we’re outside the grounds, what is stopping the people here from tracking us down? With reinforcements?”

“We’ll worry about that bridge once we’ve crossed it!”

“Demian? I command you to stop her right now, or our deal is off!” He heard Heidi speak from behind him. She was probably afraid of getting too close to the mess, and to Kinari wielding a gun.But she still spoke loud enough for all to hear.

“Nevermind that! Just come here, Demain,” said Kinari, sounding angrier. He heard a step.

“Don’t you dare go any further, filthblood!” He did not recognize the voice. A guard?

“Peace! Calm down, everyone! This will be solved soon!” Another male voice. Older, and with a hint of authority. A voice used to giving commands.

“Kinari? Do you trust me?” Asked Demian, making sure his voice was loud and clear enough to not be shouted over.

“What? Just come down, already-!”

“Order her to stop this instant!” Heidi commanded, a trace of panic in her voice too. Tensions were raising. “Use the voice if you have to.”

“Do you trust me, Kinari? Yes or no?” Asked Demian, in a more forceful tone.

“Yes, I trust you!” Said Kinari, exasperated. “Now come down -”

“And you remember our conversation? That day when we almost died?”

“I… Yes?” She sounded uncertain now. Time to drive the point home

“Then put the gun down now. Please,” he asked. “No more violence, Kinari. Let the hostage go”

A moment of tense silence followed, and Demian did his best not to show any fear. Keeping calm and in control while his heart pounded in his chest.

“Please, Kinari? Have faith in me?” He pleaded, his voice low.

He heard a sound of something metallic thumping against the wood floor. The hurried steps and shouts of triumph.

“We got her!”

“Fucking filthblood!”

Boots stomped all over the floorboards in a rush. He heard shouts and hoots as well as a grunt of pain from Kinari. He felt his blood run cold, even as he kept his face in a practiced, neutral expression. And so he calmly turned to his side and spoke to Heidi.

“I want her to be in the same room as me, to avoid incidents like these in the future,” he said.

“Wait, what?” She gasped. “Why? She’s a, a…” He felt the disdain dripping from her voice. The shock and disgust as she struggled to describe Kinari, and had to take a deep breath to deliberately calm himself down.

“She did what I asked her to, didn’t she?” He spoke, keeping his tone gentle, but firm. “If you keep us separated it may cause more trouble. I promise we will stay in our room and cause you no further inconvenience.”

“She is not even human!” Heidi stomped her feet. “You’re telling me we’re giving her one of my best rooms?”

“She is the faithful servant of my ancient bloodline,” he said, his voice still low and calm. “And she will stay in my room.”

“So you two can escape, all easy-like?” Muttered Heidi. “Because I swear, if you two try…” She left her threat hanging in the air.

“You are wise to be careful, Lady Heidi,” he replied. “But I’ve already shown you I plan on staying, haven’t I? And I have shown how my servant obeys my commands, yes? And besides, it’s easier to guard one room than two.”

“Ugh! Oh, fine! I’m already getting in trouble with papa after this. A halfbreed in the guest suite can’t fuck things up any worse.” Her feet stomped farther away. “Wenzel? Get two more guards to take this… Servant to the guest suite with our other guest, and make sure they stay there this time!”

“It will be done, Lady Heidi.” A second voice, further down the stairs. Calm and composed, in contrast with the one who had ordered him.

“Uuuugh, I’m getting a headache from this mess!” Shouted Lady Heidi, the whiny complaint making her sound even younger than she was. Another person approached him quickly and hand was placed on his shoulders as gently as a butterfly landing on a flower.

“Right this way, Your Highness,” said the second voice in a quiet, polite tone. “We will take both of you back to your rooms.”

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

Kinari walked into a room that was a complete contrast with her previous prison. The room was lavishly decorated and furnished. There was a dresser, a large wardrobe and an even larger bed, all made from solid oak and carved beautifully.There were chairs, just as exquisitely carved and with red velvet cushions as seats. There was even a vase, with a single fresh flower languishing out of it while spreading its petals and scent into its surroundings. There were paintings hanging on the walls, oil lamps on the tables and even a fireplace, currently unlit.

“Huh. Fancy.” Kinari muttered under her breath, and although there was disdain in her voice her expression was more complicated. A mixture of fear and awe were very obviously stamped on her face as she stared at a room that, to her at least, was as alien and distant as the far side of the moon.

“This is the best guest room of the house, second only to the master bedroom,” said Wenzel, standing primly at the entrance. “I hope it is to your satisfaction.”

“Well, the chairs are certainly very comfortable,” replied Demian with a smile while gingerly feeling his way inside the room. Kinari walked up to him and led his to one of the chairs while peering at her surroundings, as if afraid a snake might jump out of a vase and attack them.

“You are too kind,” said the majordomo while nodding to the two guards that had accompanied them, both with cloth covering their ears. One of them tried to protest that the prisoners could be dangerous, in the loud voice one uses when they can’t hear anything, but Wenzel silenced him with a curt gesture and a stern expression. Chastised, the two guards took their posts outside the room and Wenzel closed it. He was now alone with the two prisoners.

Which is why Kinari was surprised to see him approach Demian and kneel in front of him, eyes firmly on the ground.

“Your Highness, please forgive the awful way you have been treated in this house. The lady is young and foolish, she knows not what she does.”

There was a small pause, with Wenzel still refusing to take his eyes off the floor, before Demian replied.

“Thank you for your concern, Mr…?”

“Wenzel, Your Highness,” he said, his voice reverent and trembling slightly from emotion. “Some of us have not forgotten the happier times when true royalty ruled this land, before the traitorous nobles split your glorious kingdom in two. And some are still loyal to the true throne.”

“Ah?” said Demian. But Wenzel continued, his voice quiet but filled with fervent devotion.

“I humbly beg your forgiveness, and offer myself to you unconditionally. Anything Your Highness needs, I will do without question. Whatever I can bring or do for you, whether to help you escape or exact vengeance on those who wronged you, I will help. I am a humble servant, now and forever, to the most sacred of bloodlines.”

Kinari was looking at this with surprise, and even Demian seemed taken aback for a moment, but he quickly recovered with his usual polite smile.

“Thank you, Wenzel,” said the prince. “I appreciate your loyalty in these difficult times. For now, resume your duties and serve your Mistress as normal. If I need anything, I will ask.”

“Thy will be done.” Wenzel bowed even lower, before getting up and, to Kinari’s surprise, gave her a polite nod as well before walking backwards out of the room, staring at Demian in wide-eyed wonder one last time before opening and closing the door behind him.

“Huh,” said Kinari, her brows furrowed in a confused grimace. “Turns out he’s a hardcore fucking royalist.”

“Another factor to consider,” said Demian quietly, his own expression blank while his thoughts connected faces and voices into a web of relationships and possible plans within his mind.

This is good, he thought. This can work.