"You've stepped in it bad," Marquis Joan Jet- the name of a gemstone variety of coal, abundant in the border-march in the foothills of the mountains separating Nukem from Tepes- said. Thankfully, at least this bitch didn't look like the real Joan Jett. "I've got a pretty good dueling weapon I can loan you, but House Nukem has an ancient fucking masterwork of a dueling weapon. And then, well, it's not just the sword that matters; the woman wielding it also matters. And pardon me for saying this, but you don't look like much of a swordswoman."

"I'm not," I said.

After the council's dinner was over, everyone went back to their own guest chambers, except for Marquis Jet, the Black Stone councilor who'd been most openly critical of Duke, who stayed to 'discuss something privately' with High Priestess Amelia. And meanwhile, of course, a nun- that turned out to be the singular form for clergy who lived in a temple and didn't interact with the public- had led us in a looping holding pattern through the Grand Temple out of Duke's sight, and then, finally, back to the High Priestess' chamber for this meeting.

The chamber was now radically different, being noticeably smaller and divided by internal walls into a cozy apartment with two bedrooms; Amelia- she didn't care for Amy- would be having us stay in the second bedroom tonight. Right now, though, we were, all four of us, in the central room, seated around a low table on a pair of sofas. Rachel clung to me, occasionally trembling, and I held her close in turn, at this point fully uncaring about appearances.

"The Temple treasures magic and knowledge greatly," Amelia said. "Our own vaults are comparable to House Nukem's; perhaps you would like to borrow one of our own dueling swords? We have one enchanted to give the skill of a master duelist."

"No, no, but thank you," I said, shaking my head. "No matter what, I am not beating Abigail Van Helsing in a contest of swords. That's why I insisted on ten paces then turn- because I'm not going to use a sword."

"A spear, then?" Marquis Jet asked.

"A ranged weapon," I said. "Which brings me to a fun little question about the technicalities at play in the dueling code here: are ranged weapons even allowed? If so, how does the 'only one magical weapon' rule apply to the question of magical ammunition?"

"Ranged weapons are allowed, but very rarely used," Marquis Jet said.

"Duels are for dick-swinging and chest-thumping, you see," Amelia continued. "Ranged weapons put you out of arm's reach of your opponent, and are thus regarded as cowardly in a duel. Nobles who get into duels are rarely the sort willing to swallow their pride and use ranged weapons, and so nobody's thought to make an actual rule against them."

"Your bias is obvious, but..." Marquis Jet sighed. "She is more or less correct. Weapons that let you stay more than two paces from your opponent are considered cowardly. However, onto your second point: as ammunition is understood to be the part of a ranged weapon that actually does damage, magical ammunition is not allowed, unless you wish to take exactly one shot with a mundane crossbow. Even then, I would advise against this: as tempting as it is to enchant a bolt for accuracy and seeking, just about every dueling weapon includes an enchantment that nullifies hostile magics within a radius around the user."

"Fair enough," I said, nodding. "So, I can use a magical ranged weapon with mundane ammunition, and get as much ammunition as I can carry?"

"Precisely, yes," Marquis Jet said.

"Another one of your machines," Rachel said, low and weary. "I hope they choke on it."

"...I see," Marquis Jet said, a little puzzled.

"I was summoned here from another world in a botched angel summoning a little over a month ago," I explained. "In that time, I have built a lot of machines from my world, that do fantastic things- spin fiber into thread much faster than a spindle, turn that thread into knit socks in the space of a quarter hour just by cranking a handle, and my most recent machine, a sort of mechanical horse that travels more than twenty miles an hour, and is how we arrived in Kotor in the late afternoon after leaving Manor Nukem, a hundred miles away, at noon."

"...Another one of your machines," Amelia mused, gears obviously turning in her head.

"So, here's the idea," I said. "I'm going to need a fair bit of iron, some wood, and a lot of lead."

"We don't have much lead, but we don't have much use for it, either," Amelia said. "I can comfortably give you the Grand Temple's entire stock. Iron and wood, on the other hand, we have plenty of. How much do you need?"

"I need a single plank of wood, about two inches thick, eight inches wide, and two feet long," I said. "And the iron... let's call it ten pounds, just to be safe."

"That'll be a heavy machine," Marquis Jet noted. "The heaviest swords only weigh four pounds."

"I probably won't use all of it," I said with a shrug. "But better to have too much than too little. Oh, and... I might need a place to test this where you won't mind holes in the wall."

"My chamber is intensely magical, as you might have gathered," Amelia said. "It can completely rearrange itself on my whim. If you put a few holes in the wall, they'll be gone as soon as I change the scenery."

"I'll send a runner to fetch the materials," Marquis Jet said, standing up. "You're going to need it as soon as you can get it, because an experimental machine will need as much time as you can get to test and refine it."

"That can wait," I said, shaking my head. "I'll start work at first light, but tonight... tonight, we need time alone to process all that's happened today."

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"Come to me if you need help," Amelia said. "I have experience and skill in helping people through traumatic situations."

I was tempted to say no, because Rachel probably wouldn't like having a beta exemplar intrude on our relationship like that, but then I came to my senses and realized that, actually, having a trained counselor on hand during the worst day of Rachel's life might just be desirable.

"...Rachel, will you allow her to help?" I asked, quietly, after creating an obvious bubble of privacy around the two of us that we could all feel, letting her speak freely.

"I..." Rachel swallowed, before continuing in a small voice. "I don't know, where to go after this. And when I tell her that... she will convince me to stay here, in the Grand Temple of Kotor. And... and I will admit, I have been raised to view the Temple and the clergy with suspicion. To view the Duke's vassals with suspicion. To view everyone who was not the Duke or her immediate household with suspicion. And yet, the Duke and her immediate household have treated us cruelly and thrown us away, and the High Priestess and the Marquis have taken our side against their liege." She rubbed her face against my chest, possibly to wipe away tears. "It's the right choice. And you want it. But I... I cannot throw away the Duke's teachings as easily as the Duke can throw away me. Right now, I hate the idea of staying here, in the temple, for the rest of my life. And I hate the idea that one day, possibly someday soon, I will grow to like it."

"...Then don't stay at the Grand Temple," I said with a shrug. "Marquis Jet is in our corner. You want to stay a lord's knight, instead of becoming a nun? Ask her for a place in her household. She might love the chance to tweak the Duke's nose like that."

"But you-"

"I will follow, wherever you lead me," I said simply. "I want to stay with you, more than I want to stay with the Grand Temple. I was content with Nukem Manor and the village supporting it. Why wouldn't I be content with Jet Manor, if that's where you go?"

Rachel chewed on that for a good few moments.

"...I will admit," Rachel said, finally, "that I was partly worried that you would insist on staying at the Grand Temple. It just... it feels like where you belong, and you've expressed enthusiasm about being here, and... I was worried that I would come to tolerate it because you lived here. But... knowing that I can go wherever I choose, and you will follow... I think, in the end, that this has helped ease my mind. That my own interest in the Temple isn't simply... trying to appease you."

"You don't have to do this," I told her.

"That is why I want to," she said. "Tell the High Priestess that I accept her help."

I dropped the privacy bubble, and looked up at Amelia. "We may need your help, yes. Thank you."

"Of course," Amelia said warmly. "Marquis, I trust you know your way back to your guest chambers?"

"Certainly. I'll show myself out."

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

"A year and a day," Rachel repeated.

"Amelia is either very generous, or very determined to capitalize on the Duke's folly," I mused.

We were lying in bed, an hour later. Rachel had a lot of crying to do, which I learned was decidedly non-alpha-like behavior, but honestly, fuck that. Crying was an amazing way to let out your emotions safely, and take the edge off. And, well, I won't lie to you, it helped Rachel even more than it normally would, considering she was a gay bottom who wanted someone else to be the alpha in the relationship. Letting her cry it all out while her lover held her close was something she needed, on a bone-deep level.

Now, after all of that, she'd admitted to feeling wrung-out, and not really feeling much of anything. And while obviously she meant she felt emotionally hollow inside, I eagerly took the opportunity to further comfort my lovely knight by giving her something else to feel, by which I mean laying her atop me like a weighted blanket and hugging her face into my cleavage.

"A year and a day as guests of honor in the Grand Temple of Kotor, where we are free to come and go as we please," Rachel continued. Her voice wasn't even muffled- my tits were a bit firmer than was typical for aesthetic reasons, and big enough that Rachel's face could fit between them without obstructing her mouth. "And, at the end of that... if we choose to join the Temple fully, we can, with your affinities securing us a high rank by default, even without your inventiveness."

"I'm looking forward to it," I said. "A year and a day... with you. Where we don't have to worry about the politics of the court. Where we don't have to hide what we are, because the clergy have seen through a lot of the aristocracy's bullshit- that it's stupid to be mad about someone having a boner about the wrong kind of woman." I grinned at her as she looked up and met my eyes. "A year and a day to get to know each other better, and, our futures in nobody's hands but our own, decide whether or not we want to have a big, grand, and gay as fuck temple wedding."

"That..." Rachel trailed off.

"I'll train up my tailoring skill," I added. "So that, when the big day comes, you can wear the most beautiful wedding dress in all the land."

"...You are a cruelly effective temptress," Rachel said.

"Of course," I continued, "even if we decide we aren't interested in a wedding, or even break up and you start seeing someone else, I'll probably still make you a dress of some kind, because I like making things for people, and I'll always treasure our friendship."

"You are also a sappy bitch," Rachel said, chuckling weakly. "Thank you, I... I needed to hear that."

"I love you, Rachel," I said quietly. "I'm sorry I got us into this mess."

"It... isn't your fault, admittedly," Rachel said. "This mess has been brewing for years, and would have erupted at some point even without you. I'm sorry I took that anger out on you. I love you too, Lucy."

"I forgive you," I said. "We'll get through this together, love."

"Together," Rachel repeated, nodding a little, before sighing and nestling down further. "...Can I admit to something silly?"

"Who the hell do you think I am?" I asked, affronted. "You can always say silly shit to me. It's only fair."

"Your chest is the best pillow I've ever had," Rachel said, "but not because it is my lover's breast. Rather... because it is a pair of firm pillows held together, so that I can sleep face-down, but without having my nose pressed uncomfortably into the pillow."

I snickered. "Well, hell, I'm glad you like 'em for reasons other than the sentiment," I said. "Lemme know if you've got any ideas for improving them; I'm always willing to experiment. Anyway, if you're thinking about pillows, I take it you're ready to go to sleep?"

"I am, yes," Rachel said, nodding again.

I reached out with my will and flicked the illusory curtains shut, cutting off the simulated moonlight and darkening the room once more.

Tomorrow, win or lose... they couldn't take away what had happened tonight.