Chapter 3

I took a deep breath as we saw the manor roll into view up on the hill. It had taken us several days to get to this point, and I don't know how I knew but I knew this was the house of the Vas Graasman household. Then again I thought that half a dozen houses 'was the one' as we rolled through the city of Serasburge. It was a large city and the amount of people in it moving around was a little impressive. For some reason I had started to think of this world as a sort of T.V. show, movie, or even a videogame. I knew it wasn't any of those things but my mind had apparently defaulted to that as what I was experiencing was odd with a capital O.

The scale of the city however pretty much broke me of that notion and idea right away. Sure sometimes games or movies got cities more right than not, the lord of the rings series by Peter Jackson was a good example of that. All of the cities shown in that movie looked lived in and looked like they had good amount of people occupying them, but there was still something off.

I think it had to do with the formation of buildings and the architecture that made them. Cities don't spring up overnight, and as such a city that had been around for more than ten or so years would have different styles of homes and buildings as styles changed from generation to generation. So when you saw a real world city like this one even if you didn't notice it right away your brain still saw the difference, which manifests itself as a feeling of something being off. This was not the case here, everything felt organic, if a little old fashioned, what with the carriages and the clothing of the people and whatnot. It really did look like I was in some old period piece, the men wore nice clothes that had a lot more buttons than the casual dress of America in the 21st century and even had tophats or flat caps on. The women wore skirts and jackets, though most of the skirts seemed to only be on the side and back of the woman’s legs and most of them had on tights, or leggings of some sort under them, essentially allowing a freedom of movement that actual full skirts or a dress never would have.

As it turned out I was correct, the building we were approaching was indeed my destination as it was there that Fran turned the carriage into, rolling up towards the manor house. The house itself was a more modest affair than I was seeing in my head, though that was not to say it wasn't well built or maintained, simply that I for some reason had assumed it would have been bigger. This was likely due to the whole nobility thing and so I was judging it based on what popped in my head at that. That being large houses or manors that were fit for fairy tale royalty. I might have gotten lucky however as the house’s gate that Fran was pulling up to was a simple two story building of perhaps 2,000 square feet, whitewashed and surrounded by a simple but elegant wrought iron fence. If the house was anything to judge by then perhaps the people that lived in it were less pompous noblemen and more reasonable, that was my hope at least.

As we neared the gate a man stepped out of a small booth next to it and stood in our way, before I could say a word he rendered a salute so crisply and sharply I once again felt embarrassed. Like the soldiers that had been at the checkpoint I felt wrong to salute him back but I did my best, the words of the commandant echoing around in my head.

“Greetings sir,” he said his voice gruff. “Would you perchance be sir Alain Kleisman?”

“Yes I would be,” I said, not really all that surprised he knew my name, after all I was expected was I not. Before he could ask for confirmation of that I handed him the same documents I handed the commandant, he glanced them over before nodding and handing them back to me. “Very well, I will open the gate for you, if your man could park the carriage over to the stables the hands will help him with the horses and carriage.”

“Thank you Mr…?” I used the sound of the word to make it a question and he obliged me.

“I am sorry, I am the Major Domo, Stevins is my name.”

“Well Major Domo Stevins, thank you,” I said and gave him a nod, one that he returned before he moved to open the gate for us.

***

“Well, it would seem as though I lose the bet,” Eleanor looked up from the book she was reading at her father who was standing at the window looking down at something in the courtyard.

“Oh?” she asked, the tight feeling in her gut clenching a little more even as she attempted to play it off. She had know this day would come, had been taught to prepare for it since she was a little girl but it would seem that knowing and truly understanding a thing were two separate emotions. “What bet?” she asked as she attempted to read the same page she had been staring at for the past two and a half hours, no matter how many times she read it the words didn't seem to stay in her minds’ eye, and she was normally so good at memorization.

“Stevins and I had a little wager, as to how sir Kleisman would arrive, I said he would be a pompous ass and just sit in a carriage refusing to show himself, and Stevins said it was more likely he would show up astride a horse in order to cut a more dashing figure.” Her heart seemed to stop beating for a moment as what he said penetrated her thoughts, she had to work hard to not start hyperventilating.

“So he is a top a horse then?” she asked, not liking how her voice cracked ever so slightly.

“No, I suppose both of us lose this one,” he said with a laugh. Before she could ask he went on. “I was right about the carriage, but it would seem as though he for some reason preferred to sit with the driver instead of in the cab itself.” Her father made his humming noise he always made when he saw something that didn't match with what he had been expecting. “He seems rather chummy with the driver, the man is wearing the house Kleisman livery however so perhaps he has known him for some years, still it does send a rather interesting message.”

Eleanor brushed a lock of her hair out of her eyes and pretending to be careful about it placed her ribbon she used to mark her places in books flat in it and shut the cover. “Oh, that is interesting,” her father said as he watched from his perch, the liqueur in his hand swirling in the cup ever so slightly before he took a small taste of it.

“What is interesting father?” Eleanor asked, her temper flaring, despite the fact that she knew her father wasn’t attempting to annoy her with his observations of her betrothed.

“If I had to guess I would say this is not the first time he has unharnessed a team, in fact he seems quite efficient at it, which is not at all what I expected from the reports.” She stood up from the chase lounge that she had been occupying for the past hour and a half in an attempt to get her mind off this upcoming moment, rather unsuccessfully if her lack of progress in the book was anything to judge by, and came up to his side.

Her betrothed hadn't been described in the best of terms when the reports had come in, in fact by most accounts he was a lout, maybe not an evil man, but not one she was looking forward to tying herself to, she would of course do her duty for the country but that didn't mean she had to look forward to it. The man she had seen in her minds eye had been slothful, unkempt and prideful. The man she was seeing in the courtyard however was something different. His hair was long, blonde like her own, and held back in a loose ponytail and as she watched he laughed at something the other man said as she without looking unhooked the harness around a horses’ neck with such speed that it had to be muscle memory. In fact he had his horse unharnessed before the other man did, and with a sure hand he lead the horse away several feet before he dropped the bridle leads, stepping on them to bring the horses' head lower to the ground and to let it know it was not to move. The horse obeyed as he made his way back towards the carriage and reemerged with a towel and a brush and began grooming the horse.

Her father was right, that was a surprise, the reports had said nothing about his familiarity with horses, she felt a small spark of hope kindle in her chest, perhaps he was not as bad as the spies had reported him to be, perhaps there were a few redeeming qualities to this man. She dare not let herself hope to much and be devastated by the crushing truths but a part of her wanted desperately to hold onto this small warm spark in her chest. She watched as he smiled, a natural smile that he seemed to share with the driver as her father’s stablehands came out to help them brush and stable the animals.

So, now she knew two things about her betrothed, one he liked horses, or at least he had been around them enough to not be annoyed or daunted by the labor needed to take care of them. And two, he really was as good looking a man as had been reported to her father…

***

“And with that sir, I do believe you are all out of stalling tactics.” I froze mid pat of the horse and felt my cheeks and the back of my neck heat a little as Fran spoke.

“Stalling?” I asked, looking over at him slowly, “I don't really know what you are talking about,” I said slowly and watched as a shit eating grin spread on his face.

“Sure you don't, and the reason you have brushed out that horses’s main no less than three times has nothing to do with stalling does it?” He was not the only one smiling this time, there were several sniggers and a few stifled laughs from the stablehands that had come to help take care of the horses. A task that I had made sure to take care of myself, ostensibly to make sure it was done well, but to be honest there was more than a little truth to the accusations thrown my way.

“Fine, fine,” I said with a sigh and a smile on my face, the sigh was real, the smile was less so. This would not be the first time I went to meet a girl’s family, but this would be the first time I went to meet the family and the girl for the first time at the same time. I had nothing to go off of, nothing to tell me how I was really expected to act so I was going to fall back on respectful. Respectful was the safest bet. I moved to grab my bags but before I could Fran stopped me and shook his head.

“Go, I will get the bags.” there was a noticeable quiver of laughter in his voice. With another sigh I closed my eyes, steeled myself and nodded before turning on my heels to walk towards the house. I had just reached the top step and was moving to knock when the door was opened by an older gentleman that was wearing what could only be called a butler’s suit, it was black and white, and had a rather dark gold knot at the neck that looked more like a coiled snake or a spiral than any bowtie I had ever seen. He didn't have white gloves on but by the way he was holding himself it screamed either former military or lifelong butler, it was hard to tell seeing as they both had an economy of movement and motion.

“Hello,” I said, not knowing what else to say.

“Greetings sir,” the man moved into a deep and fluid bow and I in that moment sincerely hoped I wouldn't be required to bow like that anytime soon. It looked simple enough, but it was one of those things that while looking simple had a good deal of complexity to it. “You are expected, please follow me.” Just like that he turned and walked into the house, clearly expecting me to follow him. Not knowing what else to do I did as instructed, instinctually I closed the door behind me, making sure it latched and clicked in place without being shut overly hard. That done I looked around the foyer, it was a rather nicely designed room, lots of warm hard woods that seemed to glow gold in the beams of sunlight that filtered in through the large windows. The floor was some sort of darker stone cut into tiles and left slightly rough no doubt to make sure the floor was not slick even if your boots were wet.

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It was perhaps ten or so paces across before you came to a staircase that led to the second floor area. I followed the man across and up the stairs attempting to not hyperventilate the entire way. The second floor area was bright and open and only looked to have three room doors, the middle of which was a rather good looking set of double doors, it was these that the man lead me to. He looked back, gave me a small smile, either somewhat laughing at my nervousness or perhaps reassuring me I really couldn't tell as I had no real understanding of the guy. He knocked three times with the back of his hand and a loud “Enter,” was heard from the room. Taking a deep breath and standing up as straight as I could I stepped forward through the door as it was opened for me. It was better to just do the thing before I could overthink it.

The room I stepped into was a combination library and office space, several large windows and a fireplace dominated the wall to the right overlooking the courtyard, and bookshelves lined the other three walls. The tombs were almost exclusively bound in leather and had embossed titles on their spines. The light seemed to practically glow off of the oiled leather and the smell of worked leather and paper was a rather amazing combo.

The first person I saw was a man, standing tall with a drink in his hand looking directly at me. The future father in law no doubt. The man was shorter than I was by about half a head but he had a sturdy build about him, he was in his mid fifties if I had to guess and his hair and mustache were both going slightly gray. His bearing screamed military, and while he was wearing what looked like a more casual suit I was willing to bet that in his closet there was a black and gold uniform. The blade on his hip was like mine, but his was more clearly used than mine had been, the leather wrapped hilt was scuffed and worn from use, and there might have even been a few sweat stains on it. He regarded me before taking a sip of the amber liquid in his tumbler and setting the rest of it down. “I welcome you to my house,” he said, and I belatedly remembered the crash course on etiquette that the other version of me had left behind and gave what I hoped was a passible half bow.

“I am indebted to you for the hospitality,” I said, not really knowing if I was supposed to be speaking at this moment or not. It seemed like the right thing to say as he smiled at me and stepped forward offering his hand for a shake. This time I did the same and he reached past my arm and grasped the forearm. So not really a hand shake but close enough for me to recognize it. “It is quite the lovely home,” I said, attempting to play the role of the good guest. “And this library,” I looked around again and was about to complement the size of it when my eyes finally saw that we were not alone.

The woman sitting at the chase lounge was staring at me and I couldn't help but stare back. If I had to guess I would say she was a year or two younger than I was, maybe sixteen or seventeen. She had electric blue eyes, that was the only way I could really describe them with any sort of accuracy that did them justice. Her golden blonde hair was pulled back into a ponytail and laid over one shoulder the hair in her bangs framing her face.

“Ah allow me to introduce you to my daughter Eleanor,” well shit, and here I was worried about the woman I was being tied to was going to be some inbred royal pain in the ass. This woman was clearly not inbred, there was no deformities or hideous looking disfigurements, she was quite attractive in fact. Having dodged that bullet the only thing left to ascertain was whether I had hit the double jackpot and avoided being chained to a royal pain in the ass. Thinking about that however the likelihood of that was slim, after all there had to be a reason the other me fled. Up to this point I had assumed the bride to be was ugly, since that clearly wasn't the case I was left waiting for the other shoe to drop.

I bowed as she rose to her feet, noticing out of the corner of my eye that she had been reading a book. I glanced at the title of the book and found it to be a manual on the proper care of wounds and how to treat them. If that was what she was reading in her spare time then I might be outclassed. “It is a pleasure to meet you lady Eleanor,” I said as I came out of the bow, wondering if I could get her to agree to allow me to call her Elle or something shorter, Eleanor was a nice name, but it also seemed too impersonal.

“And the same to you Sir Alain,” she said her cheeks darkening slightly as she curtsied back at me. The corner of her mouth pulled up ever so slightly in a small smile it was tentative and I found I rather liked the way it made her eyes sparkle.

“And like that I cease to exist,” her father said with a chuckle to himself.

“I am sorry sir,” I said turning back to him, “I was told your daughter was beautiful, unfortunately I seem to have been misinformed,” I saw the one eyebrow rise as I spoke what had to be the most cheesy cliche lines I had ever said in my life, never mind the fact that they were true to a tee. “Yes unfortunately no one informed me that she was gorgeous, mesmerizing even.” That got a good laugh out of the man.

“My daughter has been called many things, intelligent, forceful, stubborn, stiff necked, but this is the first time I have heard her described as mesmerizing.” I watched out of the corner of my eye as his words caused a little bit of a surly look to cross his face, a look that seemed to disappear when I turned to look at her fully. She was blushing more now and she looked at me and then turned to her father.

“Father, perhaps I can take Sir Al-”

“Just Alain or Al please,” I said interrupting her, this Sir Alain business made the entire affair seem too stuffy and uptight.

“Very well, then you may call me Eleanor,” she said and was about to continue her question when I interrupted again.

“What about Elle?” I asked.

“What?” she seemed thrown off balance by the question so I elaborated.

“Can I call you Elle?” I asked and this received a raised eyebrow.

“My name is Eleanor, not Elle,” she said.

“Well what about Ella?” I asked, and I watched as her eyebrow rose the same way her fathers had just a few moments again. “Or perhaps just El?” I asked. “Though I would say if I had to pick one Ella sounds the prettiest of the three.”

“And what is wrong with calling me Eleanor?” she asked her hands crossing over her chest as she looked at me.

“Well nothing, I just like calling people by shortened names, it's like me, I am Alain, but most people just call me Al.”

“I see,” she said after a pause. “I would appreciate it if you called me Eleanor,”

“For now,” I said with a nod.

“For the foreseeable future,” she said, her fingers on the outside of her biceps due to her crossed arm starting to tap in a rhythm.

“We will see,” I said with a smile. She narrowed her eyes at me and I just gave her a shrug in return.

“Father I would like to show Alain around the grounds, it will give us time to discuss things and to get to know each other better.”

“A wonderful idea,” he said with a pause that seemed like it was rehearsed. Perhaps that wasn't such a surprise seeing as the time period was pretty much the early revolutionary period from what I could tell, and back then everything had a sort of mold it fit into. Women were wed when fathers and brothers found a candidate and while they had the right to refuse they often didn't. I offered her my arm as I had seen in countless period pieces that my Gramps had watched and she slipped her arm through it and started to lead me away. No doubt this was part of the plan, and my interruptions had annoyed her likely because I had changed the timing of things. Unless I was sorely mistaken Eleanor was a planner, the sort of girl that wanted everything to go exactly like she had written down in her little book, if she had a little book that was, and any deviation from that course was one to cause irritation.

In that regard I was like oil to her water, fire to her ice. I tended to do things and then figure out what to do next based on what had come up. Me being in this world was the perfect example for instance. A sane person, even one who believed this other world existed would have made sure they couldn't be trapped here. I had just jumped in head first, damn the consequences. Gramps had always told me that was going to get me into trouble as much as it got me out of it.

“So,” I said as we walked, it had been a few minutes of silent walking and I had to break the awkward situation right there and then or I might explode, or melt whichever came first. “I saw you were reading a book on anatomy and wound treatment, is it a passion of yours?” she looked over at me, her annoyance slight but there, apparently I wasn't expected to talk in this section, I must have forgotten to schedule in advanced with her secretary or something.

“No, I do not care for it.” she said simply, which made my eyebrows raise.

“If you do not care for it why study it?” I asked and it was her turn to look confused.

“It is a requirement for an officer’s wife to know how to take care of wounds and weapons when her husband is deployed,” she said it like I was a moron and that was common knowledge. And while I didn't think I was the former the latter might be true. I had no real understanding of the societal structure of this country, or even the one I had just recently came from for that matter. Something about me must have looked rather confused because she seemed to relent some. “I apologize, I am aware that things are different in the Tathensian Empire, I have done some reading on that but I have forgotten that this is a difference between our two people.” She paused for a second, perhaps organizing her thoughts. “Among my people it is expected for an officer’s wife to accompany her husband into the field of war, they do not go onto the front lines and while they are armed it is only for self defense should the camps be overrun. The officer’s wife is expected to tend to any wounds her husband sustained as well as maintain his kit and rifle and make sure everything else is managed and squared away.”

That was different, sure there had been women in combat support roles ad the like on earth but the idea of a soldier bringing his wife to the war front then having her act as a world war two styled nurse was different. I really didn't know how different, I supposed it mattered how good she was at the role, after all that would mean that every man would have access to personalized care, so if the wife was trained good it might lead to a higher survival rate as there would be no triage needed. One doctor one patient as it were.

“I see,” I said, and looked around as we walked into what looked like a garden that had been hidden behind the house, it was filled with flowers and flowering trees that had meandering dirt paths that seemed to go every direction and led to several different seats under shaded spots as well as a few out in the sun. “If anatomy is not your favored subject what is?” I asked looking over at her and she blushed slightly as she looked away.

“I enjoy drawing,” she said softly.

“Really?” I asked with a smile. “Do you sketch people or scenery or more abstract ideas and objects?” She blinked and looked at me curiously. “What?” I asked confused as to why she would look at me like that.

“It serves no purpose,” she said slowly. “It is an indulgence.”

“What?” I felt like a broken record but I wasn't quite sure if I had heard her correctly or rather understood her. She just looked back at me, now looking equally as confused. “Do you enjoy it?” I asked and she slowly nodded. “Then isn't that more than enough reason to continue to do it?”

“If it serves no purpose-”

“It does though,” I said cutting her off. “You enjoy it, I imagine you feel relaxed when you do it, it is an outlet for creativity and emotions, and letting those out is always better than bottling them up. Besides there are any number of skills that you can use drawing for.” I said.

“Skills like what?” she asked, she sounded slightly offended by what I was saying which made literally no sense to me. Knowing I was stepping carefully through a series of land mines I chose my words carefully.

“Well for starters there is architectural design,” I said, looking up at the large building that was behind us.

“Architectural design?”

“Yeah, planning out and designing buildings, before it can be built it is best to have a drawn plan so that the builders know exactly what they are doing, a good architect will have every stone and piece of wood measured and drawn out before the first supplies are in place to start the building process.” She glanced at the house, looking at it oddly as though she was seeing it for the first time. “Landscapers do the same thing, they draw where trees and plants and paths go in gardens like this, and then there are designers, people who have ideas for new products and draw them so that others can make and produce them,” I was on a bit of a role when another idea popped into my head based more on what she had been talking about a few moments ago. “And then of course there are military scouts,” this caught her attention. “Terrain needs to be scouted before a force can move in, and while telling someone something is helpful a visual representation is more so, and troop numbers and placement…” she was staring at me with an intensity that was a little concerning.

“Tell me more about this,” she said her face getting a little closer to mine as she spoke.

“I'll make a deal with you,” I said smiling at her. “You draw a picture of me and then we can talk about this more…”