Once Emily and Lydia lured Olivia into a private tea room, Drake passed on his new freedom decree, and Olivia learned her father was still alive, it was the first time Drake had ever seen a battle maid cry. It was desperate sobbing, too. Still, it was understandable.
Drake could only stand off to the side, awkwardly, as Olivia bawled her eyes out and clutched Emily like she was about to drown. Emily was bawling now too, which hadn’t started until Olivia somehow got to her. Lydia’s eyes remained dry, but only just.
Should he leave now? He should probably go check on the zarovians and meet his armorer, Goktul. He wasn’t doing anything useful here.
This room held two plush couches, a table, and a bookshelf, and the couches were more than big enough for four people. He should leave his maids to commiserate. As Drake tentatively made to creep toward the door, Lydia brushed his elbow with her hand.
After his gaze darted to hers, she incrementally shook her head. Not time to leave yet? But they were just crying. They didn’t need him to watch all that.
Still, Lydia hadn’t steered him wrong yet. Sooner than he expected, Olivia gathered herself, pulled a clean white handkerchief from a pocket in her apron, and daintily dabbed at her eyes. It seemed they didn’t have mascara here. That would get messy.
Lips pressed tightly together, Olivia walked over and dropped into a low bow.
“You don’t need to bow to me,” Drake said. “You make your own choices now.”
“I bow to thank you,” Olivia whispered plaintively. “Thank you for saving my father.”
Drake looked to Lydia for help. He hadn’t done much of anything, so did Lydia simply want him to stick around so Olivia could bow to him? How did that help anyone?
Emily gently rubbed Olivia’s back and smiled through her own sniffles. “Ease up, Oli. There’s no need for all that. We’ve got a new lord now, and we all want to impress him. Right?”
Olivia nodded firmly and straightened. That was a relief. Drake completely understood why Olivia would sob like this, and he was happy to give her all the time she needed to gather herself. But wouldn’t it be better to let her do all this in private?
Tentatively, Olivia stepped forward. “I know it’s horribly presumptuous and even rude, but... may I hug you, lord?”
What the hell? Drake barely hid his grimace and glanced at Lydia, who offered an encouraging nod. He had no idea what she was thinking. He almost refused, but Olivia looked so forlorn. Emily, for her part, looked like she thought this was the best idea in the world.
“Uh, sure. I guess?”
Olivia darted forward and threw her arms around him. He awkwardly patted her upper back. Finally, with one soft breath, Olivia took two steps back and smiled a brave smile.
“Thank you, lord. I will be the best battle maid I can be. I won’t ever disappoint you.”
“I believe you,” he assured her. “Also, if you want to take a day or something—”
“No,” Olivia interrupted firmly.
He was surprised she’d interrupt him. She’d seemed so timid before, and even knowing him as she did, not even Lydia often did that.
“I have been slothful in my duties for far too long. I will redouble my efforts today. May I be dismissed, lord? There are so many things I need to correct.”
She certainly looked motivated now. “You no longer need to ask me that, but... sure. You’re dismissed.”
She hurried out of the room without a backward glance. And was she... humming to herself? Talk about a mood change. Drake had emotional whiplash simply from being in the room with her.
Emily waved and grinned. “I’ll go keep an eye on her. Can you guard our lord?
Lydia nodded. “We’re fine here.”
Emily saluted and hurried after Olivia. Soon, Drake was alone with Lydia in the room. Now, at last, he could ask her what all this had been about. Lydia’s wide smile halted him.
“Thank you, lord.”
He still felt more than a little awkward about all this. “What was that all about?”
“Olivia needed that hug. She needed to form an emotional connection with you. If she is going to serve you of her own volition—”
“Serve us,” Drake reminded her. “As an employee.”
“Of course,” Lydia assured him. “And she can best do that if she both trusts you and feels safe with you.”
That made sense when he considered it in retrospect, though he still didn’t understand why. “But none of you needed a good cry and a hug.”
“We have dealt with more. Olivia has only been here a few months, and it quickly became apparent that the best way to motivate her was to engage her loyalty.”
“And Dickcheese managed that?”
“Never. It was her father, Samuel, who coached her, and for whom she performed at a level I’ve only rarely seen. I have no doubt he encouraged her precisely because Dickcheese threatened them both if Olivia did not constantly exceed his expectations.
Drake glanced at the door. “It may be time to set the poo pile on fire.”
Lydia smiled faintly. “In only a few months, Olivia became one of the most dedicated warriors in our manor. Until five days ago. Knowing that Dickcheese spent days torturing her father to death because of her... it broke her. We all knew eventually, even with her powerful rarity, she would be next into the ritual room.”
“How was any of that her fault?”
“It wasn’t, of course,” Lydia assured him smoothly. “She simply saw it that way, and after having some time to observe how you think, and how you lead, I believe giving Olivia this opportunity to swear her loyalty would be best for both of you.”
This was sounding a lot more manipulative than he’d expected. “How so?”
“Olivia needs someone to fight for. She excelled in her duties because she fought to keep her father out of Dickcheese’s dungeon, and it was because of how fast she progressed with her rarity that he took such a close interest in her.”
“By close interest, we’re still talking about skill in battle, right?”
“Of course. Yet he pushed her too hard, lord. Days without sleep. Eventually, her control of her rarity faltered. During yet another mock training battle Dickcheese demanded, she incinerated several of his prize hunting beasts and nearly the whole stables.”
Drake whistled softly. It sounded like, timidity aside, Olivia might be the most powerful battle maid he had in Gloomwood Manor. She could burn a whole stable down.
“You already have my undivided loyalty,” Lydia assured him. “Emily’s as well.”
Hearing that from her felt good. Real good. Lydia couldn’t lie, so her words and Emily’s meant a lot more than they might otherwise.
“But Nicole still hasn’t recovered enough to tell us what happened to her,” Lydia continued, “and she keeps her own counsel. Valentia is also slow to trust anyone. If she makes it back to us, you may have a difficult time with her.”
“And Dickcheese just put up with that?”
“Valentia has considerably more leeway than the rest of us.”
Drake remembered Valentia was the oldest of the maids, at 28. “Was the old fucker sweet on her?”
“Only in terms of what she brought to his army. Her rarity is called flashfreeze. She can conjure ice in a blink. Have you considered what that could do to blood?”
Drake whistled in wonder. “She can just murder a guy with that?”
“One snap of her fingers can freeze blood solid at forty paces, and she has done so many a time in service to the lords of Gloomwood. She excels at both open battle and covert assassinations. I freely admit no one is better at killing than she is.”
“Then...” He considered. “How did you win the maid battle?”
“Fatal strikes were disallowed for obvious reasons. That put Valentia and Emily at a disadvantage, since neither could instantly kill us through flashfreeze or rend soul. Also, and please keep this from anyone who’s not a maid, we decided the battle beforehand.”
“You mean it was fixed?”
Lydia nodded. “We knew if all the remaining maids chose one of us by unanimous consent, it would vex Dickcheese. He would worry that all the maids trusted whoever became the new steward more than him. His paranoia would eventually lead to her being removed.”
“You mean tortured and murdered. But if you fought each other for the position, he’d presume the losers resented the victor and be content. Right?”
She smiled. “We will make you a master of murder politics yet.”
Drake ruefully shook his head. “How did you all survive that guy?” After hearing about all these new horrors, he had even more respect for Lydia and her fellow maids.
“It was not easy... and not all of us survived. One day, if there is no immediate crisis and you get me good and drunk, I may be able to tell you about Esme.”
“Another battle maid?”
“Our former steward. The steward before me.”
Drake winced in sympathy. He felt like a dick for begrudging Olivia a simple hug. “It seems like you’re focused on making everyone here like me.”
“Would you prefer they fear you? Cower at your passing?”
“No.” He understood Lydia’s intent. “I like this better. Dickcheese died because you all hated his guts.”
“I cannot disagree. No one here liked him, and many actively despised him.”
“And your clever plan is to ensure everyone likes me, isn’t it?”
“Given you are now our manor lord, that seems wise.”
Of course she was looking out for the whole manor, not just herself. Their interests aligned, so perhaps he could ask her one more sensitive question without offending her. “Since we’re on the topic of getting the residents to like me, can you give me any insight into Zuri?”
“Has she given you the impression she might dislike you?”
“Not even close. Every time we talk, she tries to seduce me. I don’t want that.”
Lydia nodded thoughtfully. “I’d need to covertly observe the two of you to verify your impression, but your instincts may be right. It is a strategy she might employ.”
“Manor politics?”
“Survival. Everyone here has focused on that goal, first and foremost, for as long as I have served. Zuri has survived four Lords of Gloomwood, and she started that deadly game at age sixteen. So, her strategy of seduction could be because she misjudged you.”
“Misjudged how?”
“You’re an unattached and charming adult male. You also now hold a great deal of power in this world, and not simply—”
“Hold up,” Drake interrupted with a grin. “You think I’m charming?”
She narrowed her eyes. “That is beside the point, lord.”
“Oh, I don’t know about that.”
“Focus.” She seemed quite serious about this. “Has she attempted to seduce you since you informed her of your new decrees?”
Drake considered. “I actually haven’t been back to talk with her since then.”
“So perhaps this behavior will now cease on its own now that it is no longer necessary.”
“So it was a ploy to... get on my good side?”
“Zuri might have simply assumed you’d be eager for a bed warmer. It could be that her attempts to seduce you weren’t because she hoped to undo you, but simply because she judged that becoming your bed warmer would be the best way to survive.”
He wanted to call that manipulative, but having to survive under an evil manor lord changed the rules. He saw no way but to ask. “So was she boning the old guy?”
“Oh no, lord. Lord Dickcheese had many flaws, but he was never that foolish.”
“Is Zuri really that much of a handful?”
Lydia eyed him warily. “Are we speaking in terms of physical contact?”
As another belief disparity manifested, Drake belatedly realized how that must have sounded. “Oh no, that’s not what... I mean she’s hard to handle.” No, that sounded even worse. “By which I mean difficult! To reason with. This has nothing to do with touching, believe m...”
He trailed off as Lydia continued to watch him in obvious disapproval, but wait... was that a smirk? Was she teasing him? As she realized that he’d caught on, her faint smirk grew into a real and amused grin. He’d tried to tease her yesterday, and now...
She truly was feeling more comfortable with him today.
“I now realize I never explained one of the dangers of blood pacts, lord,” Lydia said smoothly. “Forgive me.” She didn’t look very apologetic. “While it will no longer be a worry once you issue your new decree, it is still an aspect of such magic you should understand.”
She had seriously forgotten a vital detail? “What is it?”
“You have seen how we wear gloves and outfits that cover the majority of our bodies, as do many others here. That was by the lord’s command, because contact with a blood thrall where bodily fluids are mixed may grant both parties access to the blood pact. Mixing of blood is how it is instilled, and further mixing of fluids reopens that connection.”
No one had told Drake this. He was really glad Lydia had told him now. How many manor lords had fallen victim to that particular loophole?
“So, lord, any blood thrall a lord took to their bed could gain control of the blood pact, if only temporarily. How long they would maintain control would depend on how much fluid was intermixed, but it would be more than long enough for a power battle to ensue.”
“So why would Zuri even be attempt to... oh.” Fuck, that was ruthless.
Lydia nodded. “She likely believed you didn’t know about this aspect of blood pacts.”
“That sounds like she was trying to take over the manor. Can we trust her?
“I do. We are not friends, but I have tremendous respect for her as a mediator. So consider this from her perspective. Zuri, like us, wished to survive. She feared you. So her attempts to seduce you may simply have been how she hoped to insulate herself from harm.”
“So if she keeps this up now that it’s no longer necessary, how should I deal with it?”
“Be direct with her about this matter.”
“In other words, straight up tell her we aren’t going to fuck?”
Lydia’s eyes widened. “That’s what that word means!”
“Focus, Lydia. Can I trust the sexy evil librarian or not?”
“Yes, with caveats. Zuri is an intensely logical woman. If you offer her a bargain that benefits you both, I suspect she’ll embrace it eagerly.”
“Just so long as she’s not embracing me eagerly.”
Lydia audibly snickered, then covered her mouth with one white-gloved hand.
“That was a real laugh that time,” Drake insisted. “I heard that!”
“You may have imagined it, lord. Let’s move on.”
Not a lie, but a suggestion. Lydia did seem to have a deep understanding of everyone in Gloomwood Manor, which made sense, since she dealt with them every day.
“Hey, Lydia? I’m glad we’re partners.”
“As am I.” She smiled again. “I even think we could become friends.”
Could they? He’d never met anyone quite like Lydia back in his world—all of his friends back home were guys—but Lydia had proven she had his back since the moment he stepped out of the ritual chamber. Her support had been invaluable.
“I’d like that, actually,” he assured her.
Lydia might have killed a number of people, likely some who didn’t deserve it, but that was just how things were here. She hadn’t wanted to. She wasn’t a monster.
She was his steward and served him, so obviously, they always had to maintain some professional distance. But his friend? She could be, and he wanted friends. Since he’d decided to stay in this world, he was going to be lonely without any friends.
“So,” Drake said. “I’ll keep thinking about how to get Zuri to stop trying to seduce me, and you’ll keep suggesting more ways I can make everyone here like me.”
“You haven’t needed much help with that, lord. But I’ll certainly continue to offer tips.”
Once Emily and Lydia lured Olivia into a private tea room, Drake passed on his new freedom decree, and Olivia learned her father was still alive, it was the first time Drake had ever seen a battle maid cry. It was desperate sobbing, too. Still, it was understandable.
Drake could only stand off to the side, awkwardly, as Olivia bawled her eyes out and clutched Emily like she was about to drown. Emily was bawling now too, which hadn’t started until Olivia somehow got to her. Lydia’s eyes remained dry, but only just.
Should he leave now? He should probably go check on the zarovians and meet his armorer, Goktul. He wasn’t doing anything useful here.
This room held two plush couches, a table, and a bookshelf, and the couches were more than big enough for four people. He should leave his maids to commiserate. As Drake tentatively made to creep toward the door, Lydia brushed his elbow with her hand.
After his gaze darted to hers, she incrementally shook her head. Not time to leave yet? But they were just crying. They didn’t need him to watch all that.
Still, Lydia hadn’t steered him wrong yet. Sooner than he expected, Olivia gathered herself, pulled a clean white handkerchief from a pocket in her apron, and daintily dabbed at her eyes. It seemed they didn’t have mascara here. That would get messy.
Lips pressed tightly together, Olivia walked over and dropped into a low bow.
“You don’t need to bow to me,” Drake said. “You make your own choices now.”
“I bow to thank you,” Olivia whispered plaintively. “Thank you for saving my father.”
Drake looked to Lydia for help. He hadn’t done much of anything, so did Lydia simply want him to stick around so Olivia could bow to him? How did that help anyone?
Emily gently rubbed Olivia’s back and smiled through her own sniffles. “Ease up, Oli. There’s no need for all that. We’ve got a new lord now, and we all want to impress him. Right?”
Olivia nodded firmly and straightened. That was a relief. Drake completely understood why Olivia would sob like this, and he was happy to give her all the time she needed to gather herself. But wouldn’t it be better to let her do all this in private?
Tentatively, Olivia stepped forward. “I know it’s horribly presumptuous and even rude, but... may I hug you, lord?”
What the hell? Drake barely hid his grimace and glanced at Lydia, who offered an encouraging nod. He had no idea what she was thinking. He almost refused, but Olivia looked so forlorn. Emily, for her part, looked like she thought this was the best idea in the world.
“Uh, sure. I guess?”
Olivia darted forward and threw her arms around him. He awkwardly patted her upper back. Finally, with one soft breath, Olivia took two steps back and smiled a brave smile.
“Thank you, lord. I will be the best battle maid I can be. I won’t ever disappoint you.”
“I believe you,” he assured her. “Also, if you want to take a day or something—”
“No,” Olivia interrupted firmly.
He was surprised she’d interrupt him. She’d seemed so timid before, and even knowing him as she did, not even Lydia often did that.
“I have been slothful in my duties for far too long. I will redouble my efforts today. May I be dismissed, lord? There are so many things I need to correct.”
She certainly looked motivated now. “You no longer need to ask me that, but... sure. You’re dismissed.”
She hurried out of the room without a backward glance. And was she... humming to herself? Talk about a mood change. Drake had emotional whiplash simply from being in the room with her.
Emily waved and grinned. “I’ll go keep an eye on her. Can you guard our lord?
Lydia nodded. “We’re fine here.”
Emily saluted and hurried after Olivia. Soon, Drake was alone with Lydia in the room. Now, at last, he could ask her what all this had been about. Lydia’s wide smile halted him.
“Thank you, lord.”
He still felt more than a little awkward about all this. “What was that all about?”
“Olivia needed that hug. She needed to form an emotional connection with you. If she is going to serve you of her own volition—”
“Serve us,” Drake reminded her. “As an employee.”
“Of course,” Lydia assured him. “And she can best do that if she both trusts you and feels safe with you.”
That made sense when he considered it in retrospect, though he still didn’t understand why. “But none of you needed a good cry and a hug.”
“We have dealt with more. Olivia has only been here a few months, and it quickly became apparent that the best way to motivate her was to engage her loyalty.”
“And Dickcheese managed that?”
“Never. It was her father, Samuel, who coached her, and for whom she performed at a level I’ve only rarely seen. I have no doubt he encouraged her precisely because Dickcheese threatened them both if Olivia did not constantly exceed his expectations.
Drake glanced at the door. “It may be time to set the poo pile on fire.”
Lydia smiled faintly. “In only a few months, Olivia became one of the most dedicated warriors in our manor. Until five days ago. Knowing that Dickcheese spent days torturing her father to death because of her... it broke her. We all knew eventually, even with her powerful rarity, she would be next into the ritual room.”
“How was any of that her fault?”
“It wasn’t, of course,” Lydia assured him smoothly. “She simply saw it that way, and after having some time to observe how you think, and how you lead, I believe giving Olivia this opportunity to swear her loyalty would be best for both of you.”
This was sounding a lot more manipulative than he’d expected. “How so?”
“Olivia needs someone to fight for. She excelled in her duties because she fought to keep her father out of Dickcheese’s dungeon, and it was because of how fast she progressed with her rarity that he took such a close interest in her.”
“By close interest, we’re still talking about skill in battle, right?”
“Of course. Yet he pushed her too hard, lord. Days without sleep. Eventually, her control of her rarity faltered. During yet another mock training battle Dickcheese demanded, she incinerated several of his prize hunting beasts and nearly the whole stables.”
Drake whistled softly. It sounded like, timidity aside, Olivia might be the most powerful battle maid he had in Gloomwood Manor. She could burn a whole stable down.
“You already have my undivided loyalty,” Lydia assured him. “Emily’s as well.”
Hearing that from her felt good. Real good. Lydia couldn’t lie, so her words and Emily’s meant a lot more than they might otherwise.
“But Nicole still hasn’t recovered enough to tell us what happened to her,” Lydia continued, “and she keeps her own counsel. Valentia is also slow to trust anyone. If she makes it back to us, you may have a difficult time with her.”
“And Dickcheese just put up with that?”
“Valentia has considerably more leeway than the rest of us.”
Drake remembered Valentia was the oldest of the maids, at 28. “Was the old fucker sweet on her?”
“Only in terms of what she brought to his army. Her rarity is called flashfreeze. She can conjure ice in a blink. Have you considered what that could do to blood?”
Drake whistled in wonder. “She can just murder a guy with that?”
“One snap of her fingers can freeze blood solid at forty paces, and she has done so many a time in service to the lords of Gloomwood. She excels at both open battle and covert assassinations. I freely admit no one is better at killing than she is.”
“Then...” He considered. “How did you win the maid battle?”
“Fatal strikes were disallowed for obvious reasons. That put Valentia and Emily at a disadvantage, since neither could instantly kill us through flashfreeze or rend soul. Also, and please keep this from anyone who’s not a maid, we decided the battle beforehand.”
“You mean it was fixed?”
Lydia nodded. “We knew if all the remaining maids chose one of us by unanimous consent, it would vex Dickcheese. He would worry that all the maids trusted whoever became the new steward more than him. His paranoia would eventually lead to her being removed.”
“You mean tortured and murdered. But if you fought each other for the position, he’d presume the losers resented the victor and be content. Right?”
She smiled. “We will make you a master of murder politics yet.”
Drake ruefully shook his head. “How did you all survive that guy?” After hearing about all these new horrors, he had even more respect for Lydia and her fellow maids.
“It was not easy... and not all of us survived. One day, if there is no immediate crisis and you get me good and drunk, I may be able to tell you about Esme.”
“Another battle maid?”
“Our former steward. The steward before me.”
Drake winced in sympathy. He felt like a dick for begrudging Olivia a simple hug. “It seems like you’re focused on making everyone here like me.”
“Would you prefer they fear you? Cower at your passing?”
“No.” He understood Lydia’s intent. “I like this better. Dickcheese died because you all hated his guts.”
“I cannot disagree. No one here liked him, and many actively despised him.”
“And your clever plan is to ensure everyone likes me, isn’t it?”
“Given you are now our manor lord, that seems wise.”
Of course she was looking out for the whole manor, not just herself. Their interests aligned, so perhaps he could ask her one more sensitive question without offending her. “Since we’re on the topic of getting the residents to like me, can you give me any insight into Zuri?”
“Has she given you the impression she might dislike you?”
“Not even close. Every time we talk, she tries to seduce me. I don’t want that.”
Lydia nodded thoughtfully. “I’d need to covertly observe the two of you to verify your impression, but your instincts may be right. It is a strategy she might employ.”
“Manor politics?”
“Survival. Everyone here has focused on that goal, first and foremost, for as long as I have served. Zuri has survived four Lords of Gloomwood, and she started that deadly game at age sixteen. So, her strategy of seduction could be because she misjudged you.”
“Misjudged how?”
“You’re an unattached and charming adult male. You also now hold a great deal of power in this world, and not simply—”
“Hold up,” Drake interrupted with a grin. “You think I’m charming?”
She narrowed her eyes. “That is beside the point, lord.”
“Oh, I don’t know about that.”
“Focus.” She seemed quite serious about this. “Has she attempted to seduce you since you informed her of your new decrees?”
Drake considered. “I actually haven’t been back to talk with her since then.”
“So perhaps this behavior will now cease on its own now that it is no longer necessary.”
“So it was a ploy to... get on my good side?”
“Zuri might have simply assumed you’d be eager for a bed warmer. It could be that her attempts to seduce you weren’t because she hoped to undo you, but simply because she judged that becoming your bed warmer would be the best way to survive.”
He wanted to call that manipulative, but having to survive under an evil manor lord changed the rules. He saw no way but to ask. “So was she boning the old guy?”
“Oh no, lord. Lord Dickcheese had many flaws, but he was never that foolish.”
“Is Zuri really that much of a handful?”
Lydia eyed him warily. “Are we speaking in terms of physical contact?”
As another belief disparity manifested, Drake belatedly realized how that must have sounded. “Oh no, that’s not what... I mean she’s hard to handle.” No, that sounded even worse. “By which I mean difficult! To reason with. This has nothing to do with touching, believe m...”
He trailed off as Lydia continued to watch him in obvious disapproval, but wait... was that a smirk? Was she teasing him? As she realized that he’d caught on, her faint smirk grew into a real and amused grin. He’d tried to tease her yesterday, and now...
She truly was feeling more comfortable with him today.
“I now realize I never explained one of the dangers of blood pacts, lord,” Lydia said smoothly. “Forgive me.” She didn’t look very apologetic. “While it will no longer be a worry once you issue your new decree, it is still an aspect of such magic you should understand.”
She had seriously forgotten a vital detail? “What is it?”
“You have seen how we wear gloves and outfits that cover the majority of our bodies, as do many others here. That was by the lord’s command, because contact with a blood thrall where bodily fluids are mixed may grant both parties access to the blood pact. Mixing of blood is how it is instilled, and further mixing of fluids reopens that connection.”
No one had told Drake this. He was really glad Lydia had told him now. How many manor lords had fallen victim to that particular loophole?
“So, lord, any blood thrall a lord took to their bed could gain control of the blood pact, if only temporarily. How long they would maintain control would depend on how much fluid was intermixed, but it would be more than long enough for a power battle to ensue.”
“So why would Zuri even be attempt to... oh.” Fuck, that was ruthless.
Lydia nodded. “She likely believed you didn’t know about this aspect of blood pacts.”
“That sounds like she was trying to take over the manor. Can we trust her?
“I do. We are not friends, but I have tremendous respect for her as a mediator. So consider this from her perspective. Zuri, like us, wished to survive. She feared you. So her attempts to seduce you may simply have been how she hoped to insulate herself from harm.”
“So if she keeps this up now that it’s no longer necessary, how should I deal with it?”
“Be direct with her about this matter.”
“In other words, straight up tell her we aren’t going to fuck?”
Lydia’s eyes widened. “That’s what that word means!”
“Focus, Lydia. Can I trust the sexy evil librarian or not?”
“Yes, with caveats. Zuri is an intensely logical woman. If you offer her a bargain that benefits you both, I suspect she’ll embrace it eagerly.”
“Just so long as she’s not embracing me eagerly.”
Lydia audibly snickered, then covered her mouth with one white-gloved hand.
“That was a real laugh that time,” Drake insisted. “I heard that!”
“You may have imagined it, lord. Let’s move on.”
Not a lie, but a suggestion. Lydia did seem to have a deep understanding of everyone in Gloomwood Manor, which made sense, since she dealt with them every day.
“Hey, Lydia? I’m glad we’re partners.”
“As am I.” She smiled again. “I even think we could become friends.”
Could they? He’d never met anyone quite like Lydia back in his world—all of his friends back home were guys—but Lydia had proven she had his back since the moment he stepped out of the ritual chamber. Her support had been invaluable.
“I’d like that, actually,” he assured her.
Lydia might have killed a number of people, likely some who didn’t deserve it, but that was just how things were here. She hadn’t wanted to. She wasn’t a monster.
She was his steward and served him, so obviously, they always had to maintain some professional distance. But his friend? She could be, and he wanted friends. Since he’d decided to stay in this world, he was going to be lonely without any friends.
“So,” Drake said. “I’ll keep thinking about how to get Zuri to stop trying to seduce me, and you’ll keep suggesting more ways I can make everyone here like me.”
“You haven’t needed much help with that, lord. But I’ll certainly continue to offer tips.”
