Twenty minutes of carriage ride later, Isse found herself in front of a nobleman’s mansion.
It was surrounded by high walls of brick and mortar topped off by iron spikes that she would’ve guessed were both decorative and functional, seeing just how pointy they were. The carriage had deposited her in front of an intricately assembled metal gate that reminded her slightly of a snowflake. Elegant, yet simple, with criss crossing lines that seemed to change every time you looked at them.
Two [Guards] stood attentively at its sides, standing in a relaxed manner and yet looking around at the people passing by them with sharp eyes. Right now they were staring at Isse and, in particular, at her dress of Shifting Silk, which now made her look like a noblewoman in her own right, with a flowing gown of green that fluttered just above the ground and a flattering dress that hugged her upper body comfortably and slightly enticingly while not showing any skin. The coachman did a double take at her before leaving, since she’d entered wearing something else entirely.
One of the guards stepped forward and bowed his head slightly, asking in a deep voice: “Good morning miss. Are you here to visit the Lord or Lady Serafia?”
Goodness me, the dress actually helped? asked Siidi with a smile in her tone.
Good clothes make for wealthy people, and wealthy people are ones to be respected, she answered back, citing Master’s words during one of his lessons.
“As a matter of fact, no. I am here on… business, with the clockmaker your Lady hired, one Albert Sirion. I am his apprentice,” saying that the lady of the house had hired Albert was probably the best move in this situation, because no matter what, she would’ve managed to get out of this conversation scot free. Had Albert not actually been here, she could’ve just said that she must’ve gotten the wrong information from him; while had he been here as a friend, because that was also a chance seeing how many people Albert knew, why would two no name guards know the actual reason for him being here? And even if they had, who was to say that Albert hadn’t lied to her and said he was here for work?
The guard looked at her for a moment before looking back to his colleague, who nodded his head.
“Ah, I see. You must then be Issekina Sirion, am I right?”
Isse nodded.
The guard moved to the side, his hand going for the gate and moving it open without even the hint of a creak: “You may come in then, miss.”
Isse immediately noticed the absence of the honorific this time, but she didn’t care. The first impression was what actually mattered. Now, whenever these two thought of her, they would see the noble-looking girl instead of the well dressed apprentice.
She skittered inside, and entered another world.
Gone was the noise of the city, instead she was greeted by a natural silence filled with the sounds of wind going through the bare branches of the trees, a pleasant reminder that winter was upon them in all its glory and, right now, it was being kind. There was a gravel driveway in front of her with pinpricks of white salt here and there to keep it from freezing over, a small snow wall no higher than the first joint of her spidery legs on the sides.
She walked on, admiring the beauty of the place, that strange sort of beauty that can be found in death and stillness, that people had tried so long, and failed, in her modest opinion, to capture in still life paintings. Because paint and even modern photographs couldn’t match the real thing. At most, they could come close.
So she walked, and, finally, after stopping every now and then to watch a particular statue placed seemingly at random among planted trees and a small, frozen, pond, filled with lively fishies, she reached the main door to the mansion.
Slowly, nearly reverentially, she raised her right hand to knock on the heavy, pale, wood, but stopped short when it opened in front of her just when her hand was a few inches short of a knock. A distinguished man wearing a black uniform with white stripes around the cuffs and the neck, making him rather striking. His eyes were a typical dark brown and, currently, were looking at her courteously and warmly.
“Good afternoon, miss Issekina. We were expecting you. Mr Albert was beginning to worry. Would you like to join the Lady, her husband and your teacher for supper?”
And at that, her smile became waxy as she realized she had been, indeed, right. If they were expecting her, that meant Albert knew she was going to come, which meant he had, somehow, understood that she was going to be here. Was she that predictable? Or was he simply that good?
“I would gladly join you, mister…?”
The man bowed his head: “My name is Gregory, miss Issekina.”
She smiled: “Hello Gregory. Just call me Isse. Nobody calls me by my full name.”
“As you wish, miss Isse.”
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The inside of the house was strange to say the least: a mix of austerity and excessive redecoration, as if someone had been handed a gothic castle and had decided to turn it into a homely modern home. The white, plaster covered, brick walls had painted drawings here and there representing some wonderful winter landscapes together with other, childish, drawings of animals in warmer weather. There were paintings of severe people staring down at her, their poses stiff, with green plants placed between them in an hilarious attempt to make the place look less gloomy.
Then they reached the end of the hall, where two big, closed, white wooden doors waited, less impressive and probably a lot less heavy than the ones at the entrance, and someone had hung a painting that was completely and utterly devoid of all the qualities she’d seen up until now: it showed a woman sitting comfortably on a padded chair, one leg inelegantly and yet also, somehow, extremely elegantly, slung over an armrest, her head resting comfortably on an arm propped on the other, while she smiled towards the observer with a slight quirk of her lips that made her look mischievous. She was wearing a white, form hugging, dress, the only detail that was the same as the other paintings.
“Who is that?” she asked Gregory, who’d noticed her sudden stop and was now smiling.
The man looked away from the painting and down at her as he courteously answered: “That is the current lady of the house, Madame Serafia. As you may have noticed she is… different from her predecessors.”
He said that last part with a slightly bigger smile. Clearly, he liked this new side of the house he was serving.
I like her. She seems like someone who doesn’t give a fuck about stuff, said Siidi, and Isse had to agree with her.
Finally, they moved away from the painting and Gregory let them into a big dining hall.
The place was even homier than the rest of the mansion: the walls were painted a bright green with flecks of deep blue near the ceiling, with lively paintings of wondrous-looking places and beautiful natural sceneries: a waterfall with a mage sitting at its bottom letting the water seep into his clothes; a forest covered in snow with children playing hide and seek among the trees, one of them attempting to hide in a snow pile; a dreamy landscape of green hills with a single thornless rose at the forefront, the purplish sky lit by a setting sun.
And, on the wall opposite from the entrance, another portrait had been hung of the Lady from before, this time with a man. They were sitting on a triclinium, or rather, the man was sitting, the woman was lying, her head in his lap, one of his hands gently combing her hair while he smiled happily, looking rather sleepy.
Isse looked at all of this, and didn’t notice the long table in the center of the room, nor the people sitting on it whose chatting they’d interrupted.
“You like that one?” asked a feminine voice, “It’s not an actual painting. Gods know I was actually falling asleep there. It’s a mage picture my husband traitorously asked Gregory to take and then put right there. It is outrageous!”
A moment of silence followed as Isse looked towards the table, where the woman from the portrait, the man who was apparently her husband, and Albert, were sitting. The lady was smiling, her throat bobbing up and down slightly in an attempt to keep from laughing. Her husband beside was just smiling like a madman.
“Dear, you did ask me to find something appropriate, by your standards, for the dining room.”
And at that, the woman began laughing.
Yep, definitely like her. She’s sort of like Creanza, but rich, said Siidi.
Isse snorted, which the woman heard, causing her to laugh even harder.
On the other side of the table from her Albert just sat, shaking his head in mirth.
When, finally, she calmed down, wiping a tear from her eye, she motioned her closer: “Welcome. You must be Issekina, mister Albert’s apprentice,” she motioned towards her teacher, who nodded amiably.
“Indeed I am, my Lady,” she answered, bowing slightly and lifting her skirt with the motion, something she had seen done in movies. She had always wanted to do that.
The lady began laughing again: “Oh Stars, that was horrible. One of the worst bows I’ve ever seen someone do. It was so bad it was good. Please, dearie, never call me My Lady ever again, I’m not that old, and regarding the bow, just stick to bowing your head, it will help you save face with other nobles.”
Isse felt her cheeks color red as she listened to this, Siidi laughing in her head.
“Come sit with us dear. The food is about to arrive. Albert here says he was certain you’d come around lunch, and he wasn’t wrong.”
Isse nodded and, after bowing her head to an amused lord, walked towards the chair beside Albert, who was smiling at her apparently very clumsy bow.
When she ‘sat down’ she looked over to the lady and asked: “How would you like me to call you, milady? And you too, milord.”
The woman waved her hand dismissively: “Oh, just call me Madame Serafia, or just Serafia, although, knowing people, you’ll probably stick to the former.”
The man beside her chuckled and nodded, before giving his own answer: “As for me, just call me Sir Gaius, or Sir. No, I am not an ordained [Knight] or anything like that, I just like the sound of it, and in company as polite as this we can use such appellatives.”
Isse nodded, then turned towards Albert slightly and whispered: “You’re going to pay for what you’ve done.”
He smiled slightly and nodded as if she hadn’t just sworn vengeance on him: “I expect. nothing less. You did good too in this little challenge. You were fast enough. Next time, you’ll be even better at this.”
“If you touch my books again there will be harsh consequences.”
Albert chuckled again and said, his voice higher: “Would you kindly pass me the gears I forgot dear? I really should’ve slept more last night.”
Isse narrowed her eyes slightly but nodded, rummaging around in her bag of holding and taking out one of the boxes she’d taken at random from the ones on the shelves in the back. She hoped the fact he’d forgotten about some gears was a ruse, because what were the chances she’d taken the right one?
This narrative has been purloined without the author's approval. Report any appearances on Amazon.
Albert took it, opened it, picked up one of the many gears he kept inside, and nodded: “Perfect. Exactly what I needed. You did well, apprentice.”
Clearly these people weren’t acquaintances of his since he kept being so formal, even though the two nobles were being exceedingly friendly.
When they were finally sitting Gregory, who, in Isse’s opinion, was probably a [Butler], nodded, walked out of the room, and soon came back followed by two other butlers and two [Maids]. Their clothes were contrasting, the women wearing white maid’s dresses while the man wore all black.
They were carrying plates filled with warm soups made with fresh vegetables and expensive meats, which she didn’t recognize because, apparently, they hadn’t used your typical cows or pigs or whatever you can imagine, but instead had gone for something much more exotic imported from Aknos. The animal was called Shroom Grazer and did not, in fact, eat mushrooms. It was instead some sort of sentient mushroom that lived off of grazing and which meat wasn’t apparently meat but some kind of vegetable and it was boggling Isse’s mind because it tasted exactly like meat.
“I love this dish,” said the lady, “It’s so… different. You won’t find many people out there that aren’t from Aknos, or aren’t elves or their progeny, who will eat them. They’re all weirded out, say it’s wrong for it to taste like meat without actually being made of meat. Pussies, the lot of them. The little bastards basically infest the forests of that continent and they plant themselves faster than rabbits. If it weren’t for the elves they’d probably have swarmed the entire continent.”
It was quite good, even she could admit it, and her diet could normally be summarized as meat with a side of meat and a little coating of meat with something else just to change the taste, or just more meat.
“This is great. Where do you buy it?” she asked out of curiosity.
The Lady shrugged: “I have no clue. Gregory?”
The [Butler] shrugged elegantly: “I know not myself, milady. I believe it is your husband who sources this delicacy.”
Everyone turned to look at Sir Gaius, even Albert, who hadn’t looked up from the plate. He seemed to be enjoying himself, but clearly was unsurprised by the food. He’d probably already tasted it.
Anyways, Gaius replied: “I have it shipped through the southern port of Ipatia. It’s the main trading hub for products coming from Aknos,” he answered with a small, proud, smile, before adding: “Also, there’s a [Merchant Captain] who makes the voyage there and back regularly who owes me a lot after I financed the beginnings of his venture, so he brings the Shroom Grazer’s meat at a discount. It basically costs us nothing, seeing just how prolific the little beasts are. The only problem is that their meat spoils quite fast, which is what normally raises the price for importing -”
Lady Serafia chuckled as she raised a hand and put a single finger on her husband’s lips, shushing him gently: “Come on now hubby, let’s not bore our guests with the details of this business venture. I know for a fact that our dear feminine guest here has much more interesting questions to ask.”
She leaned in and stage whispered: “Let these two brutes talk among themselves about boring stuff, while us girls talk gossip.”
I think I’m falling in love, said Siidi.
Oh shut up Siidi, she’s charismatic, but not to that point.
Maybe, but I’d still fuck her brains out.
She had to suppress a groan, but couldn’t help the smile that appeared on her lips.
“Erm, gladly, my la - madame Serafia, but… isn’t it… erm…” her brain began to melt. This woman was nothing like what she’d expected a nobleman to be. She was loud, assertive, and, if the paintings were anything to go by, quite the free spirit.
“Oh, don’t worry about it. [Decorum is Overrated] dear, especially in this house. It just turns people into repressed sexbombs that can and will explode at the slightest nudge in the right direction. I should know, I’ve been the spark many times over.”
The moment she said those words Isse felt a weight lift from her and, suddenly, she felt more limber, freer, as if she’d been chained down by something that was now gone. It was liberating.
The lady sighed, her eyes turning dreamy for a moment, continuing: “You know, before my hubby and I married I was wilder than a baby lizardkin. I know it’s hard to believe, but I’ve calmed down a lot since then.
“But enough of myself. What about you? Got yourself any lovers? A man to carry you around maybe? Or woman. I don’t judge.”
And at that Isse hesitated. She remembered Anda, and felt… nothing. She didn’t feel sadness, or happiness at the memory of their times together. Just a gray nostalgia that left her feeling empty.
Still, she answered: “I… had a girlfriend.”
That was the wrong word. They’d been soulmates. Girlfriend couldn’t even begin to describe what they’d been, and soulmate was a word too small to encompass it all. Why couldn’t she feel anything remembering her?
“Had? Did you break up? I’m so sorry dear. But the sea’s got plenty of fish. I’m sure you’ll find someone else.”
Ha, sure! ‘What would you do if your dear hubby died? Would you be able to just move on and find yourself another one?’ That’s what she wanted to ask so, so, so much, because this woman could maybe understand what kind of connection there had been between her and Anda. She would’ve made a great arachne.
But she didn’t say any of that. Instead, she just shook her head: “She died. In a fire.”
And at that madame Serafia froze in place, a bit of color draining from her actually quite pale face now that she looked. Her eyes turned sad, the smile disappearing from her face as she extended a hand towards her and clasped it around her own: “Then I am doubly sorry dear. I… I’m sorry if I hurt you by making you remember.”
Isse shook her head and, noticing that she’d looked down, gazed back up: “It’s… I’ve… It doesn’t hurt anymore. Not as much.”
The woman looked her in the eyes a while longer, looking utterly unconvinced, but in the end she nodded and moved back into her chair. She looked sideways, at her husband and Albert, who were staring at them, and shooed them off with her hands: “What are you looking at? This is girl-talk time. You go somewhere and talk about boring business stuff. [Bubble of Privacy].”
Isse didn’t feel anything change around her, but suddenly the world around them was muted.
“Cool Skill,” she said, trying to smile, and managing to, because there was no reason to feel sad.
“Thank you. Now, let’s change the subject to something more lighthearted. How about… ah, yes! Would you like to hear a story from my younger days? It’s a funny one, and it will help you understand my character.”
She moved slightly forward, fingers interlaced, a small smile on her features.
“So, here’s the thing about me that you probably understood just by walking down the hall of paintings. I am different from the rest of my family. The Serafia family is known for being… cold. As in, stick up their ass cold, winter cold, never-smiling-cold. Most of my family was like that. I, on the other hand, was different. Where my brothers and sisters were, well, ‘normal’, I was a ray of sunshine in this dull house. Where they were studious people who wanted nothing more than to gain more Skills and skills to be [Lords] and [Ladies] of renown, I wanted to have fun and be merry and live life as any child would. Where they were cold, I was emotional. And where they were capable of controlling their emotions completely, I was… explosive, to say the least. I believe my mother once called me a ‘Vindictive little shit with backstabbing tendencies’. The old crone was always right.
“I always thought I embodied the symbolism of my family better.”
She stopped, looking thoughtful for a while, before nodding: “Oh, why not, I’ll tell you. Did you look at the entrance gate?”
Isse nodded: “I did see it looked a lot like a… a snowflake?”
The woman smiled: “We have an observant one, eh? Yes, you’re absolutely right: a snowflake. You see, my family, for the longest time, was composed by [Lords of the Cold]. We thrived during winter, helping the country we served survive through the cold season by making the ground more fertile and allowing things to grow in it, by making the cold more tolerable for the citizens and stuff like that.
“But here’s the thing: we weren’t originally [Lords] or [Ladies of the Cold]. We used to be [Lords of Winter]. Whimsical and unpredictable and funny but also cruel when needed or for no reason. We were free spirits. I don’t know when, but one day some of us decided that being ‘of winter’ meant that we had to be cold and controlled, and everyone went with it.”
She sighed: “For the longest time I felt like the black sheep of the family, but I also decided that I wasn’t going to give a shit, pardon the language, and that I was always going to be me, no matter what. Which leads to this little story of mine.
“I was, what, fifteen? Yes, fifteen years old. Those were some of my wildest years,” she smiled dreamily, looking up as if a bubble had appeared over her head with the images of that moment replaying.
“At the time I already had a rival: a woman who really, really, really hated me, because I had taken a man she liked for myself. Yes, I know, stupid reason to hate someone: first come first serve, as they say, and my goodness what a service that man had offered. He was big and knew how to use the tools nature had gifted him. Coff coff, anyways, she hated my guts, so she decided to play a little trick: she decided to poison me.”
At Isse’s open mouth she laughed: “Oh, dear, that is nothing. Nobles tend to attempt to poison each other at least once per party, otherwise it becomes dull. And don’t worry, usually the poisons aren’t for killing each other. Most of the time we use them to embarrass our rivals by causing… adverse reactions with the intestines.”
She chuckled as if that was the funniest thing in the world. To Isse it sounded immature. Poison was for killing or incapacitating, period. That’s what Iada had taught them. The fact that she sometimes spiked her wines with poisons because she had a high resistance didn’t support it, true, but she did it responsibly at least.
“Anyways, I was at this party, and my rival was there. So she calls a servant, asks for a glass of wine, pours something in it, and tells the servant to serve it to me. So here a man comes offering me a glass of wine, and I naturally took it, because I was the life of the party and one didn’t refuse offered alcohol in those situations. But here’s the thing: I had, still have, a very useful Skill at the time, one of the few good things my family ever did for me: [Smell Poison]. A basic Skill, yes, but a good one. It doesn’t matter what poison one uses, I can perceive it.
“So here I was, looking at this glass of wine, knowing full well it was poisoned, and the people around me were egging me on, trying to make me drink. So what do you think I did?”
Isse wasn’t certain: “You… drank it?”
“Stars no! I was wild, not stupid. I looked at the servant and asked him what wine this was. He answered, and I went all ‘Oh, I love that one. It’s a favorite of mine! Hmm… this much won’t be enough, bring me the entire bottle!’
“He brought me the bottle. He actually did. An entire, just-opened, bottle. And I spent the whole night drinking from it. It was so scandalous I was the talk of the city for an entire month.”
She chuckled like a madman: “At least it was good wine. It’s still my favorite to this day. Even though the next morning I woke with such a hangover that even a Hangover Potion didn’t help completely. Suppose that’s what I get for drinking an entire bottle of wine after six strong drinks.”
And then she laughed, and Isse couldn’t help but join her a moment later. It was stupid, it wasn’t even that funny, but it was so light hearted, so filled with a primal sense of freedom, she just had to laugh. It reminded her of the stories Makira used to tell her and the other spiderlings when they’d been newborns.
When, finally, she stopped laughing, the lady added: “I even got two Levels in my Class at the time, [Eccentric Lady].”
And then they began laughing all over again.
Meanwhile Albert and Sir Gaius sat nearby, looking at them with genuine smiles on their faces. One because he liked seeing his wife being merry, the other because he had never seen his new protegé laugh.
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They went back to the shop a few hours later.
“So, had you really forgotten the gears you needed?” asked Isse, her vendetta momentarily forgotten.
Albert made a so-so gesture with his hand: “I hadn’t forgotten. I had purposefully left one of the boxes I needed back home.”
“What if I hadn’t brought it? Or if I had taken the wrong one?”
Albert looked at her and she saw a devious smile appear on his face: “Oh, that’s simple: had you not taken one of the boxes you would’ve failed this challenge partially, because Creanza would’ve known you were lying about the reason you were looking for me. Or, had you taken the wrong box, well, that would’ve been a failure on my part.”
“What? Why?”
“Because I made you choose the box you took.”
“... Eh?”
“It’s a technique Master taught me a long time ago: a way to make people take what you want. It’s somewhat similar to how some [Scammers] can make you choose the card they want in one of their games. It’s a matter of putting the box in the most favorable place to be taken, together with underlining its presence with the right lighting and positioning it in such a way that it will subconsciously attract the eye, all without it being obvious. One day I’ll teach it to you.”
“So, wait, you had -”
“Predicted all your actions from the beginning? Yes, I had.”
Isse stared at him open mouthed.
“Don’t worry Isse, you’re not that predictable. I’m just very experienced. From your visit to the Boneless Dancer, to the fact that you made a deal with Creanza for the information, giving her an IOU in exchange, to more or less the hour at which you would’ve arrived at the mansion. Everything had been predicted. And you were excellent. The books are already back where they belong at home.”
Isse nodded dumbly until that last sentence. Then she asked: “Where had you hidden them?”
He smiled enigmatically: “That, dear, you’ll have to find out for yourself. Where would the fun be otherwise?”
[Spy Level 6!]
[Skill - Basic Bartering Obtained!]
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The next day Albert woke up, walked out of his room, felt his [Detect Trap] Skill suddenly spike, dodged three different rope traps and found himself suddenly stuck to a web that had been woven to fill the entire corridor’s width. A moment later Isse skittered out of her room with a triumphant smile on her face and a feather in her right hand.
Turns out, though, Albert wasn’t ticklish.