As he let Lydia absorb all they’d discussed, Drake watched as she visibly gathered her composure and... relaxed? He wondered how long it had been since she could let her guard down, even a little. How exhausting must that have been?
“So, Lydia... can I ask one more question? Fair warning, it’s a weird one.”
“Ask anything, lord. If I can, I will answer.”
“What’s with the outfits?”
She appeared visibly confused once more. “Do you mean... our uniforms?”
“Yes.” Maid uniforms. “Do you clean the place when you’re not killing people?”
“This is silverweave, lord. It has all the same properties of your own clothing, and has been passed down in this manor for generations.”
So she’d inherited this maid outfit from another maid? “But... why maid outfits?”
Lydia didn’t answer immediately. He assumed it was because she was thinking of how best to answer, not because she was refusing to do so. Finally, she spoke again.
“I do not know, lord. All our manors have existed for hundreds of years. Silverweave never degrades, and it is expensive to enchant. So... I would speculate that the very first Lord Gloomwood wished his people to wear these uniforms.”
And they still wore the same uniforms decades later, since they were expensive, magical, and hard to produce. They handed down maid uniforms like a fantasy character might hand down a magic sword. “So what can you tell me about silverweave?”
“It is not as durable as feathersteel, but it is almost as light as normal cloth. It can stop glancing blows from bladed weapons and cushion those from blunt. Moreover, it is highly resistant to magical attacks. Even acid cannot penetrate it.”
Her maid outfit could do all that? No wonder his “battle maids” all wore their outfits around the manor. It was an odd uniform, but still a uniform, and apparently a magic uniform.
And his own clothing—the slightly heavier than expected black shirt and pants, which looked pretty slick if he gave them a chance—was also silverweave. That made him feel a little better about his “everyone in this world would now try to assassinate him” situation.
But only a little.
“Okay.” Drake would examine the properties of maid outfits later. “Now that we’ve agreed I’m going to become your manor lord, there’s still one other big matter I need to know more about. It is going to be possible for me to visit my home?”
“You wish to leave the manor and return to your world?”
“To visit,” Drake clarified. “I left people behind there, and while I could take or leave most of them, I should let my mother know I’m not dead. I don’t know what’s going to happen when the authorities find my wrecked truck, filled with blood, with me missing from it, but I can’t imagine she’ll think it was anything good. I don’t want her grieving for me. Even if all I can do is pass a message to her somehow, I want her to know I’m all right.”
“I understand perfectly, lord,” Lydia said quietly. “Unfortunately, I know very little about how to move between realms or pass messages between them.”
“But you’ll tell me what you do know?”
“Of course.”
“All right. To start, how did you and the old lord get to New Mexico?”
“Is that the name of the land where you come from, lord?”
“Yes. It’s... well, I mean, I wasn’t born there, but I did live there.” In a shitty one-bedroom apartment. “How do you get there from here?”
“I do not know. I had never visited another realm before yesterday night.”
“But I’m the lord now. Can I use Lord Gloomwood’s magic to travel between realms?”
“I do not know. He never shared any details with me."
“So after he took me from New Mexico, he teleported all three of us back here?”
“Yes.” Lydia winced. “He ordered me to run in front of your carriage. I expected to be killed, and only now understand why you veered off course and slammed into that pole.”
“Because I’m not an asshole who’d run a woman over with my truck?”
She smiled. “It seems so. You were also captured because you chose to spare my life. You are here because of my actions. That is another reason I must protect you.”
“I appreciate that, but I want to wipe the slate clean regarding what you did for the old lord. Nothing he did matters any longer, to us. We’re partners with no debts. Fresh start.”
Lydia looked both surprised and pleased. “Then... a fresh start, lord.”
“So was the old lord the only person in this world who knew how to teleport between realms, or can other people here do it?
“I can only say the old lord was the only person who ever teleported me between realms. Others may be capable of it, but I cannot say with certainty.”
Drake sighed and sat back on the couch. “So I just murdered the only guy who had any idea how to teleport me home. Fuck me, right?”
“I do not understand what you are asking, lord.”
Drake winced. “So... just so there’s no belief disparities here, that word? That’s not an order. It’s a naughty word from my world I use when I’m stressed or annoyed by something, and since no one can tell me how to move between realms, that annoys me.”
“So you do not wish me to ‘fuck’ you.”
“Absolutely not.” Drake rubbed his aching forehead. “For future reference, ‘fuck you’ means I’m insulting someone, ‘fuck this’ means I’m angry about an event that just occurred, and ‘fuck me’ means... I just realized I did something that will cause me problems.”
Lydia shook her head in wonder. “It does seem like a versatile word.”
Drake chuckled again. “And you know what? I think it’s time for a break.”
“A... pause in our negotiations?”
“Yes.” He was thrilled they’d managed to figure out so much, but prying this much out of her had mentally exhausted him. This belief discrepancy made what would otherwise be simple discussions a lot more complicated. They could likely both use a recharge.
“Working all that out was rough. So let’s pause negotiations and eat, and then we’ll figure out how we’re going to convert our manor over to non-slavery mode.” He considered her offer from earlier. “Do you like tea? Or is making it just something the old guy made you do?”
“I do like tea, lord. I greatly enjoy tea.”
“So how about we talk more after we have some food and some tea?”
“I will take an order to the kitchen, lord. What do you wish to eat?”
“There’s no need for that. On paper I’m the lord and you’re my steward, but that’s just so the rest of the manor doesn’t get confused. I don’t know how the other lords do it, but I don’t expect you to wait on me. I can get my own food.”
“Respectfully, lord... could I ask that you don’t?”
He raised an eyebrow at her. “What does that mean?”
“You have agreed to serve as Lord Gloomwood,” Lydia said. “You have also stated that you wish me to help you survive. So, heed my counsel. Eating or drinking anything I and your staff have not personally prepared is not the way you will survive.”
Drake understood her concerns immediately. “I could be poisoned?”
“Not by us, lord. But an assassin could sneak into the kitchen and poison the stew without our knowledge, and once you rescind the protections of the blood pact, even your kitchen staff could be bribed, tricked, or coerced into poisoning you.”
“Right,” Drake said. “I really am tackling manor lord on hard mode.”
“This is why I would ask that you not simply eat any food you see. You should only eat or drink that which I or another maid has witnessed prepared, and which we have personally delivered to you. While I believe you can trust the loyalty of everyone in this manor, I am certain you can trust my loyalty, as well as that of my fellow battle maids.”
She was talking about a chain of custody... for food. Lydia really was paranoid, but given how her life was here, he couldn’t blame her. “So what would you suggest?”
“Allow me to take an order to the kitchen while you remain here. Emily will guard the door while I am gone. Then, I will bring your food and mine back to this secure chamber.”
At home, he could barely scrape together the money for a cheap set of groceries, and a trip to the local fast food joint was a splurge. Here, he had a full kitchen and people willing to cook for him. Again, there were benefits to being stupidly rich and not stupidly poor.
Drake could also use some time alone to gather his thoughts. So he’d let Lydia do her maid service this once. He just wouldn’t make a habit of it. “All right. How about a burger?”
“I do not know what that is.”
Shock of the century. Drake pictured his perfect meal. “Get me a slice of meat about the size of a pancake and as thick as, say... the width of my finger.” He raised it to show her. “Then grill that up until it’s nice and brown and stick it between two pieces of bread. If you can put a slice of cheese on it, all the better. When it’s all good and hot, bring it here.”
“I will inform the kitchen of how you wish them to prepare this burger, lord.”
“And stop calling me lord every other sentence. I’d like that to change.”
“What title do you wish me to use when addressing you?” Lydia visibly twitched as she mentally managed to stop herself from adding, “lord.”
“Call me Clint, but not every other sentence.” Using his fake name meant no one would learn his real name if they used it in casual conversation. It would just be easier.
Lydia visibly hesitated, then spoke again. “I am not sure I can stop calling you lord.”
He frowned at that. “Why not?”
“Such behavior is ingrained in us.”
“Really?”
“It should be obvious that I have never encountered any manor lord who thinks like you. With other lords, those who forget to provide constant and respectful address may be punished or even put to death. Even if you won’t do that, if a peasant, thrall, or lord from outside our manor witnessed us addressing you without respect, they would think less of all of us.”
Drake reminded himself again of how different this world’s beliefs and culture were from his own. “So it’s basically a nervous tic for you guys at this point.”
“And it is not just me. I feel comfortable saying most in the manor feel this way.”
“Then... fine.” He sighed. “I’ll deal with everyone calling me lord if it’s more comfortable for all of you. I know I’m being weird about all this. I’ll work on that.”
Again visibly relieved, Lydia rose and nodded. “I will retrieve your burger, lord.”
“Great. Thanks. And get yourself some food too, if you’re hungry.”
“I will.” Lydia hesitated at the door. “And... thank you for being so patient with me during our negotiations.”
“With you? You were patient with me! That must have been like pulling teeth!”
“I have lived here all my life. This is my realm, and while it is harsh at times, I am accustomed to it. You were brought here against your will and almost murdered, and despite your unease, your first action as Lord Gloomwood was to relinquish your power and risk your own survival to protect us from future lords. I abducted you, and you still trusted me.”
“You’re my steward. Shouldn’t I trust you?”
“I believe so, but the prior lord did not trust anyone. You have given me an opportunity to protect and improve this manor I would never have had otherwise. So... thank you.”
Drake smiled at her. “You’re welcome, Lydia. Also, while you’re out there, could you let the others know I’m not so bad? If I have to spend all my time convincing everyone I’m not an asshole, we’ll never get anything done.”
“I will inform the others, lord. And I will return with your... our... meal.”
As he let Lydia absorb all they’d discussed, Drake watched as she visibly gathered her composure and... relaxed? He wondered how long it had been since she could let her guard down, even a little. How exhausting must that have been?
“So, Lydia... can I ask one more question? Fair warning, it’s a weird one.”
“Ask anything, lord. If I can, I will answer.”
“What’s with the outfits?”
She appeared visibly confused once more. “Do you mean... our uniforms?”
“Yes.” Maid uniforms. “Do you clean the place when you’re not killing people?”
“This is silverweave, lord. It has all the same properties of your own clothing, and has been passed down in this manor for generations.”
So she’d inherited this maid outfit from another maid? “But... why maid outfits?”
Lydia didn’t answer immediately. He assumed it was because she was thinking of how best to answer, not because she was refusing to do so. Finally, she spoke again.
“I do not know, lord. All our manors have existed for hundreds of years. Silverweave never degrades, and it is expensive to enchant. So... I would speculate that the very first Lord Gloomwood wished his people to wear these uniforms.”
And they still wore the same uniforms decades later, since they were expensive, magical, and hard to produce. They handed down maid uniforms like a fantasy character might hand down a magic sword. “So what can you tell me about silverweave?”
“It is not as durable as feathersteel, but it is almost as light as normal cloth. It can stop glancing blows from bladed weapons and cushion those from blunt. Moreover, it is highly resistant to magical attacks. Even acid cannot penetrate it.”
Her maid outfit could do all that? No wonder his “battle maids” all wore their outfits around the manor. It was an odd uniform, but still a uniform, and apparently a magic uniform.
And his own clothing—the slightly heavier than expected black shirt and pants, which looked pretty slick if he gave them a chance—was also silverweave. That made him feel a little better about his “everyone in this world would now try to assassinate him” situation.
But only a little.
“Okay.” Drake would examine the properties of maid outfits later. “Now that we’ve agreed I’m going to become your manor lord, there’s still one other big matter I need to know more about. It is going to be possible for me to visit my home?”
“You wish to leave the manor and return to your world?”
“To visit,” Drake clarified. “I left people behind there, and while I could take or leave most of them, I should let my mother know I’m not dead. I don’t know what’s going to happen when the authorities find my wrecked truck, filled with blood, with me missing from it, but I can’t imagine she’ll think it was anything good. I don’t want her grieving for me. Even if all I can do is pass a message to her somehow, I want her to know I’m all right.”
“I understand perfectly, lord,” Lydia said quietly. “Unfortunately, I know very little about how to move between realms or pass messages between them.”
“But you’ll tell me what you do know?”
“Of course.”
“All right. To start, how did you and the old lord get to New Mexico?”
“Is that the name of the land where you come from, lord?”
“Yes. It’s... well, I mean, I wasn’t born there, but I did live there.” In a shitty one-bedroom apartment. “How do you get there from here?”
“I do not know. I had never visited another realm before yesterday night.”
“But I’m the lord now. Can I use Lord Gloomwood’s magic to travel between realms?”
“I do not know. He never shared any details with me."
“So after he took me from New Mexico, he teleported all three of us back here?”
“Yes.” Lydia winced. “He ordered me to run in front of your carriage. I expected to be killed, and only now understand why you veered off course and slammed into that pole.”
“Because I’m not an asshole who’d run a woman over with my truck?”
She smiled. “It seems so. You were also captured because you chose to spare my life. You are here because of my actions. That is another reason I must protect you.”
“I appreciate that, but I want to wipe the slate clean regarding what you did for the old lord. Nothing he did matters any longer, to us. We’re partners with no debts. Fresh start.”
Lydia looked both surprised and pleased. “Then... a fresh start, lord.”
“So was the old lord the only person in this world who knew how to teleport between realms, or can other people here do it?
“I can only say the old lord was the only person who ever teleported me between realms. Others may be capable of it, but I cannot say with certainty.”
Drake sighed and sat back on the couch. “So I just murdered the only guy who had any idea how to teleport me home. Fuck me, right?”
“I do not understand what you are asking, lord.”
Drake winced. “So... just so there’s no belief disparities here, that word? That’s not an order. It’s a naughty word from my world I use when I’m stressed or annoyed by something, and since no one can tell me how to move between realms, that annoys me.”
“So you do not wish me to ‘fuck’ you.”
“Absolutely not.” Drake rubbed his aching forehead. “For future reference, ‘fuck you’ means I’m insulting someone, ‘fuck this’ means I’m angry about an event that just occurred, and ‘fuck me’ means... I just realized I did something that will cause me problems.”
Lydia shook her head in wonder. “It does seem like a versatile word.”
Drake chuckled again. “And you know what? I think it’s time for a break.”
“A... pause in our negotiations?”
“Yes.” He was thrilled they’d managed to figure out so much, but prying this much out of her had mentally exhausted him. This belief discrepancy made what would otherwise be simple discussions a lot more complicated. They could likely both use a recharge.
“Working all that out was rough. So let’s pause negotiations and eat, and then we’ll figure out how we’re going to convert our manor over to non-slavery mode.” He considered her offer from earlier. “Do you like tea? Or is making it just something the old guy made you do?”
“I do like tea, lord. I greatly enjoy tea.”
“So how about we talk more after we have some food and some tea?”
“I will take an order to the kitchen, lord. What do you wish to eat?”
“There’s no need for that. On paper I’m the lord and you’re my steward, but that’s just so the rest of the manor doesn’t get confused. I don’t know how the other lords do it, but I don’t expect you to wait on me. I can get my own food.”
“Respectfully, lord... could I ask that you don’t?”
He raised an eyebrow at her. “What does that mean?”
“You have agreed to serve as Lord Gloomwood,” Lydia said. “You have also stated that you wish me to help you survive. So, heed my counsel. Eating or drinking anything I and your staff have not personally prepared is not the way you will survive.”
Drake understood her concerns immediately. “I could be poisoned?”
“Not by us, lord. But an assassin could sneak into the kitchen and poison the stew without our knowledge, and once you rescind the protections of the blood pact, even your kitchen staff could be bribed, tricked, or coerced into poisoning you.”
“Right,” Drake said. “I really am tackling manor lord on hard mode.”
“This is why I would ask that you not simply eat any food you see. You should only eat or drink that which I or another maid has witnessed prepared, and which we have personally delivered to you. While I believe you can trust the loyalty of everyone in this manor, I am certain you can trust my loyalty, as well as that of my fellow battle maids.”
She was talking about a chain of custody... for food. Lydia really was paranoid, but given how her life was here, he couldn’t blame her. “So what would you suggest?”
“Allow me to take an order to the kitchen while you remain here. Emily will guard the door while I am gone. Then, I will bring your food and mine back to this secure chamber.”
At home, he could barely scrape together the money for a cheap set of groceries, and a trip to the local fast food joint was a splurge. Here, he had a full kitchen and people willing to cook for him. Again, there were benefits to being stupidly rich and not stupidly poor.
Drake could also use some time alone to gather his thoughts. So he’d let Lydia do her maid service this once. He just wouldn’t make a habit of it. “All right. How about a burger?”
“I do not know what that is.”
Shock of the century. Drake pictured his perfect meal. “Get me a slice of meat about the size of a pancake and as thick as, say... the width of my finger.” He raised it to show her. “Then grill that up until it’s nice and brown and stick it between two pieces of bread. If you can put a slice of cheese on it, all the better. When it’s all good and hot, bring it here.”
“I will inform the kitchen of how you wish them to prepare this burger, lord.”
“And stop calling me lord every other sentence. I’d like that to change.”
“What title do you wish me to use when addressing you?” Lydia visibly twitched as she mentally managed to stop herself from adding, “lord.”
“Call me Clint, but not every other sentence.” Using his fake name meant no one would learn his real name if they used it in casual conversation. It would just be easier.
Lydia visibly hesitated, then spoke again. “I am not sure I can stop calling you lord.”
He frowned at that. “Why not?”
“Such behavior is ingrained in us.”
“Really?”
“It should be obvious that I have never encountered any manor lord who thinks like you. With other lords, those who forget to provide constant and respectful address may be punished or even put to death. Even if you won’t do that, if a peasant, thrall, or lord from outside our manor witnessed us addressing you without respect, they would think less of all of us.”
Drake reminded himself again of how different this world’s beliefs and culture were from his own. “So it’s basically a nervous tic for you guys at this point.”
“And it is not just me. I feel comfortable saying most in the manor feel this way.”
“Then... fine.” He sighed. “I’ll deal with everyone calling me lord if it’s more comfortable for all of you. I know I’m being weird about all this. I’ll work on that.”
Again visibly relieved, Lydia rose and nodded. “I will retrieve your burger, lord.”
“Great. Thanks. And get yourself some food too, if you’re hungry.”
“I will.” Lydia hesitated at the door. “And... thank you for being so patient with me during our negotiations.”
“With you? You were patient with me! That must have been like pulling teeth!”
“I have lived here all my life. This is my realm, and while it is harsh at times, I am accustomed to it. You were brought here against your will and almost murdered, and despite your unease, your first action as Lord Gloomwood was to relinquish your power and risk your own survival to protect us from future lords. I abducted you, and you still trusted me.”
“You’re my steward. Shouldn’t I trust you?”
“I believe so, but the prior lord did not trust anyone. You have given me an opportunity to protect and improve this manor I would never have had otherwise. So... thank you.”
Drake smiled at her. “You’re welcome, Lydia. Also, while you’re out there, could you let the others know I’m not so bad? If I have to spend all my time convincing everyone I’m not an asshole, we’ll never get anything done.”
“I will inform the others, lord. And I will return with your... our... meal.”
