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New Reality: 15 July 1525, near Paris

The main bedroom was downstairs, and they reached it in seconds. Clothes disappeared, her dress was a one piece, and he was used to dressing, or undressing, fast. Then came passion. The woman was amazing. Fresh, hot, timid, passionate, daring, shy… almost unquenchable in her thirst for lovemaking. But so was he.

Their first love session lasted for two hours. The window had been left open and both the moonlight and the scent of the forest entered the room, enhancing their experience. At last, they lay in each other arms, both sweaty and exhausted.

"You'll think I'm a whore…" she whispered, tucking her head into his shoulder.

No whore or wench ever did a tenth of what you did to me tonight, lass, Ardent thought. Courtesans are amazing… He kissed her hair, with guilt in his heart. Prostitutes didn't matter, that was the rule that Myrtle and he had agreed upon. Likewise, with girls, for her. Their lives were complicated enough to put too much strain on them. Yet…

I care for her… he realized. Desire her… She's just too wonderful.

"Whatever it takes, I'll make sure you're safe," he promised. What he had in mind was to ask Salvatore to transport the woman to Rome, give her enough money to start a new life, and then go on separate ways. The yearning in his heart and body was undeniable, it was better to cut ties as soon as possible, before getting too attached.

There was a pitcher and a basin on a table near the window. Tying her hair in a bun, she went and washed her face, neck, and armpits. While she was doing the latter, Ardent couldn't unglue his eyes from the line of her perfect breasts.

Oh God!

His enhanced physical stats were not only for battle… Why not profit in the moment, and make it last, since they were going to part ways soon? Jumping out of bed, Ardent took her in his arms. There was no doubt what he wanted, and she widened her eyes, seeing his enthusiasm reaching full intensity again.

They made love standing, on the window seat, on the floor, on the bed, in positions their bodies found by themselves. In the end, she bit on his shoulder, to muffle her screams, wrapping herself, legs and arms, around his body, like ivy around a tree. Then she cried, while he caressed her hair.

Her body went limp all of a sudden, falling asleep. Ardent arranged the woman in a more comfortable position, pulling the blanket up, over the gracious neck. He dozed off while at that and woke up with his hand over her shoulder and blanket and the morning light warming his eyes. Birds were singing.

[Ardent]: Report.

There was no answer.

[Ardent]: Meanwood, are you around?

[Meanwood]: Prff… Sorry! I was sleeping… Nothing to report. Dragon and I took shifts at guarding the perimeter. There's some fresh food prepared in the kitchen; I feel the scent. Goodness, that smells delicious

[Ardent]: You're hungry? Want me to bring you something?

[Meanwood]: Pleaaaaaase, Master.

[Ardent]: Hang on.

The blonde woman moved in her sleep, tucking the blanket at her chest, and Ardent decided to let her rest. Dressing back in haste, only with his pants and shirt, he went out of the room using Silent Steps. The freshly baked bread smell showed him the way to the kitchen by itself.

"Hi!" he said, opening the door.

Thomas, the coachman from last night gestured at him to sit down, busying around and putting a large plate in front of the knight a minute later. Besides the bread, there was ham, cheese, butter, and jam. A feast.

"Do you mind making me another plate? I'll give this to my… assistant," Ardent asked. The man nodded, and the knight opened the window, forwarding the plate. With a loud slurping noise, the food disappeared. He put the plate in a washing basin and sat back at the table to eat. "Mmm… so good," Ardent groaned, swallowing a piece of bread and butter. "You made it?"

"My wife."

The blunt answer, as well as the man's broad shoulders, and straight posture, despite a slight limp, told Ardent the coachman, slash overall help was an ex-soldier.

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"Your mistress has some… troubles and wishes to leave town," he said bluntly. "If there are preparations to be made, please see to it. I'll take care she reaches safety before I leave."

The older man's hands shook, albeit almost imperceptibly. "I thought you would protect her…"

More strange details appeared in Ardent's senses. There was a lot of worry in the servant's eyes but of a sincere kind. "How old are you," he asked abruptly.

"Forty-nine," the man answered without thinking. "Why?"

The servant looked well over fifty, but that was not the point. Looks were deceiving in that period. What was unusual was the care the ex-soldier showed about his employer. Men were men, at any age, Ardent knew better. Even his father-in-law, who would never abandon a bottle over a wench, was looking after a pretty ass from time to time, sighing: If only I was two hundred pounds lighter and twenty years younger…

But the man in the kitchen had shown no hint of desire for his mistress, in the slightest. Not even a shadow of daydreaming in his eyes, nothing, whether now, or last night. "You're her father?"

The older man widened his eyes in shock. "What?"

"Uncle? Older brother?"

"None of those, of course. I just care for Miss Elisa like for my children, that's all," Thomas blurted.

"Elisa..." Ardent sighed. "A beautiful name for a beautiful woman…" Ardent sighed.

The man approached him, leaning forward to meet Ardent's eyes. "You … don't know who she is?"

Scratching the back of his head, the younger man wrinkled his nose, while leaning back on the stool. "I suppose she's Francis's favorite or something?"

"You think she… What happened last night to make her take you into her bed?" Thomas asked in a serious tone, a little menacing.

"Oh, that… Well… There was a jealous dude who assaulted her and ended up dead. I helped a little with that."

"You… killed an Amboise?" the man raised his voice, but not quite yelling. "Oh my God! Oh my God! We're doomed…" The man started to walk back and forth in the kitchen, covering his mouth. "The Amboises will skin us alive."

"Why don't you sit down and tell me everything, Thomas?" Ardent proposed. "Your name is Thomas, right?"

The man sat, taking his head between his hands, elbows on the table, but stood quiet for a good minute. "She's not a whore!" was the first thing Thomas said, gripping the table with force.

"Very well," Ardent nodded, a little doubtful."So, what's her story?"

"There was a duke of Burgundy, Phillip the Good, who had thirty or more mistresses. In between his last two marriages, he wed one of them in secret, and they had kids… Elisa is his grand granddaughter. If Burgundy still existed, she could claim the throne for her husband. That's how rules work here.

"When she was young, her parents arranged an engagement between her and one of the Amboise… it's a large, influential family. The kid was good-hearted… Kind, sweet, yet feeble of body… They fell in love, and since the marriage was sure..."

"They slept together," Ardent nodded.

"And had a child, when she was sixteen… But then, her parents died from the plague, and a claim to Burgundy, even theoretical, was unpractical. The Amboises reneged their promises, her fiance died of a bad heart three years ago, and she found herself alone, and poor—"

"And became a courtesan?" Ardent inquired, with a little hope showing in his voice.

"Why are you obsessed about her being a prostitute?" the ex-soldier yelled. "She never had any other man in her life except her fiance. And it's your fault she's in trouble in the first place. With the King throwing dukedoms around, a claim on Burgundy is again in the cards. The Amboises threatened that if she didn't agree to marry one of them, they'd take her child away. And this time, there's no nice guy to pick."

Ardent sagged his shoulders, banging his head on the table, repeatedly. This was bad. He had cheated on Myrtle and behaved in a manner that could have been interpreted as a proposal, or at least a relationship offer, toward another woman. It was as bad as it could get.

"Don't disturb the guest!" a woman's voice shouted outside.

In the next second, a boy about five years old, hair cut very short, erupted into the kitchen, yelling: "You're him, right? The Morlako? Can I have an autograph?" he forwarded a pencil and a comic book about Ardent's adventures.

He's her kid… goodness… How will I tell Elisa the news I'm not available?

"What's your name, son?" he asked, trying to keep his worries under a lid.

"Err… Valerie?" the boy frowned, leaning his head back.

"Elisa's a progressive mother, she allows Valerie to express her personality freely," Thomas explained, not without a roll of his eyes.

"I'll have my horse shag your corpse today and tomorrow!" the young girl bellowed one of the cliches in the comic, pumping her fist in the air.

"Goodness!" Ardent facepalmed… "I mean, it was a really good impression," he rushed to say, as the girl was now on the verge of crying.

"Thank you!" the little one jumped up. Ardent signed the comic, and then Valerie ran out, screaming in joy: "Marie, I have an autograph!" Marie was probably Thomas's wife, Ardent guessed.

"I beg you, protect her," Thomas begged. "Elisa's a wonderful woman, but without a strong patron, she's as good as dead."

"I'm married," Ardent announced, deadpanned.

"So what? Heroes can have more wives, can't they? It's legal now," the man insisted.

"Yeah… good luck with telling that to Myrtle… What have I done?" The banging on the table recommenced, even stronger.

"You're leaving dents on the table?" Thomas exclaimed, befuddled.

"High Toughness," Ardent mumbled, ceasing his tantrum. The best solution was to take the bull by the horns and come clear. He sighed and rose. "I'll speak with her, and see what can be done. You have my word I will ensure no harm will come to her."

On the way back to the bedroom, he noticed how well-kept and pretty the villa was. Either if it belonged to Elisa, or rented, that was a poor's residence only on noble standards. In the end, it didn't matter. If a powerful family was after the woman, a nice villa wouldn't save her.

Inside the room, he became aware of the pile of magazines spread on the night table, Clement the 7th's works. Tiptoeing to the bed, he caressed her cheek, waiting for her to wake up. She didn't. Her skin felt feverish.

She's still weak after the poisoning… and I kept her awake all night…

On a whim, he inspected her with Insight. There was magic inside her…

Possible magic user detected. High compatibility with the System.

Giving her the System could come in handy… She will be able to take her of herself, and with a bit of help, she'll be safe enough…

Ardent caressed Elisa's hair, insisting until she opened her eyes.