Captain Ro’s possibly incriminating letters were now in the hands of Skybreak Manor and Lucien, Sky’s codebreaking blood thrall. There was nothing more he could do to uncover the identity of their mutual enemy at the moment, and he would need to get an early start tomorrow. He had a manor full of people to ask about obedience fetishes, and hopefully, he wouldn’t stumble across any more fetishes... of any kind.
Still, he felt like he had far more than eight hours of darkness left. Without a wristwatch or cell phone to tell time, he was only vaguely aware of time’s passing. Morning, noon, afternoon, evening, and night were about as deep as he drilled into his day-to-day.
He didn’t even know if the days lasted twenty-four hours here, because he had no method to accurately measure a day here against a day on Earth. Not to mention each day on Earth was already slightly longer or shorter than the next, depending on the time of year.
Yet he was already growing used to not having a precise grasp of time, and not just that. The way he thought about death was also changing. He had murdered three people today, in perhaps the most gruesome manner he could manage, and he felt no guilt at all.
Four assassins had come here to kill him, and each one might have had a family waiting at home. Parents. Kids. Drake had killed them because he was stronger, luckier, or both. They were dead and he was alive, and he felt very strongly about that.
He felt glad.
Grieving over every fallen enemy who tried to kill him or his people would drive him mad. From the first moment he’d arrived in this fucked up fantasy world, he’d been given two choices. Cower as a weakling and die in agony... or fight and kill as a manor lord.
And live.
He wouldn’t sleep yet, nor would he read until he felt tired. He could still cram far more work into his remaining waking hours than he had been. It was time to visit his secret spy chamber. As Drake rose and took one step toward the door, it slammed into his face.
Nose aching as if he’d just taken a punch, Drake stumbled back and barely kept his balance. He stood now directly in front of his locked door, and he was horribly dizzy. His eyes darted desperately around the dark room for an attacker, some magic, an explanation.
“Was that a knock?” Nicole called from the other side of the door.
Drake took one more look around his empty room, then cautiously reached out to unlock the door. “Can you come in here, please?”
As Nicole opened the door, Drake took one step back. Something slammed into his back so hard it dropped him flat on his face. A hand touched his shoulder.
“Lord?” Nicole now sounded a little annoyed. “You can nap on the bed.”
Drake gasped and raised his head to find it aching. Had he just been knocked out? It felt like he’d only stepped away from the door a moment ago, yet Nicole was kneeling at his side. From the annoyance in her tone, it sounded like she’d been there awhile.
He’d been knocked out. He knew because he’d been knocked out before, once, when he was sparring with a dude who was much bigger than he was. That KO had felt just like this... one moment he was on his feet, and an instant later, he was on his back.
The world was still swimming before his eyes, a little, but he focused and ground his teeth until it stopped. His head ached. “I think we may have a problem.”
“Does this have to do with you sleeping on your floor?”
“Some force attacked me just now.” Drake pushed up on his hands and knees, then crouched beside his battle maid. “When I walked for the door, it just...”
“Attacked you?”
“Yes.”
“The door attacked you?”
He glared at the now open door to his bedroom, then looked at her.
“I’m not sure I can defeat a door,” Nicole added. “I’ve never fought one before.”
“Will you just listen to me? When I stepped back, something slammed me into the wall of my bedroom so hard I passed out.”
“Walls too? We may need to wake up Emily. She’s fought a wall before.”
Drake rose cautiously, eyes fixed on the door. “Just... watch my back, all right?”
“Of course. If your bed comes after you, I’ll stab it the moment it moves.”
Drake took one cautious step forward, arms out. Then, he took another. When he took the third, he slammed into the banister on the edge of his second floor balcony and tumbled over it. The manor roof and floor shifted wildly as he caught a death grip around a single post.
As his feet pumped wildly in the air, he dangled directly above a drop that felt longer than it should be. More importantly, there was no carpet down there. Just hardwood floor.
“You just flutterstepped!” Nicole shouted happily from behind him.
Still maintaining his death grip on the banister he’d pitched himself over, Drake desperately looked upward for help. “What?”
Nicole slammed hands first into the banister above him, the brown bangs dangling just over her eyes. Her wide grin mocked his situation as she leaned dangerously over the edge. “You flutterstepped! Just like Lydia!”
“The fuck am I doing flutterstepping?” Drake almost lost his grip on the ledge, which felt like it was about to pull his arms out of their sockets. “Help me!”
“It’s only a short drop,” Nicole assured him. “Just let go! Even if you break a leg, Raylan can fix that in a few days!”
“Will you just help me up already?” Apparently, Nicole’s laissez-faire attitude extended to keeping the lord of Gloomwood Manor alive. Which... wasn’t great.
Nicole reached down to grip his arms, then frowned. “I don’t think I’m strong enough to haul you back over this banister. Why not flutterstep again?”
“How are you not strong enough? Emily’s practically a zarovian!”
“Emily is a beast,” Nicole corrected. “I win because I’m fast and pretty.”
“You’re almost the same size!” Drake shouted desperately. “Just... get Cresh!”
“I don’t think I should leave you hanging from a banister to fetch a zarovian, lord. What if an assassin comes along while I’m away? Or worse, another door?”
“Goddammit, Nicole, if you don’t help me up right now—”
“Lord Gloomwood!” someone shouted from below. “Is that Lord Gloomwood?”
“It is him!” another voice shouted. “Gods! What’s he doing way up there?”
Drake dared glance down from his tenuous perch to find at least three people in servant’s garb clustered in a semicircle on the floor below, gaping up in alarm. Two more were visibly running to see what all the fuss was about. An armored zarovian was also on his way.
So now he wasn’t just dangling off a second floor banister. He was dangling off a second floor banister while multiple people who he needed to respect him watched him do it. He really should have called it a night after his nice chat with the hot blond manor lord.
“More are coming to help you, lord!” a man shouted up from below. “Just hold on! It’s just... it’s a long way to the stairs!”
They were right, of course. His master bedroom was dead center between the central stairs and the spiral staircase at the far end of the west hall, primarily to ensure anyone who wanted to approach it had a long way along an open balcony to walk. Unfortunately, that also meant anyone who wanted to do what Nicole was not doing would have a run.
“What’ve you got to lose by giving flutterstep another try?” Nicole asked from above. “I mean, besides your dignity and the respect of your blood thralls?”
As he glared up at Nicole, she grinned down at him with what looked like genuine amusement. How could she just not help? Still... she also hadn’t kicked him off the banister.
Could he really die if he simply let go and dropped to the floor from here? He might have freaked out initially. He might not even break anything, though the soles of his feet would sting like hell if he landed on them. His arms were cramping up.
Nicole couldn’t lie about the fact that he had flutterstepped. Somehow... he was using Lydia’s rarity. So maybe, after all he’d seen in the courtyard, he could give this one a try. It wasn’t like Lydia hadn’t talked about it after her duel with Emily.
“It’s her rarity, lord,” Lydia said. “I learned something the first time I dueled her. When I flutterstep, I focus on where I wish to be. It seems my soul appears in that space just before my body transitions. I never knew this until I met her, and obviously, it usually isn’t a problem.”
Drake stared intently at the hard and terrifying floor just daring him to break his neck. Focus on where I wish to be. Focus on where I wish to be. Where he wanted to be, right now, was on the fucking floor of his fucking manor. Not hanging off a banister.
He breathed deep. Still intently focused on a clear spot of floor below, he released the banister and took one step. Or rather, flailed his feet in midair.
Drake stumbled forward and almost lost his balance, but he did stumble. On hard manor floor. He hadn’t fallen so much as walked, forward, despite hanging far above this floor not a moment ago. As he gasped and froze, arms out for balance, he gawked.
Holy shit. He glanced up just in time to see the last few spectral butterflies dissipating near the banister he’d just released.
“You did it!” Nicole shouted from above. “Lydia would be so proud of you!”
As Drake straightened, a few of the people he’d seen earlier all beat feet to his position and surrounded him.
A man stared with wide, awed eyes. “Lord Gloomwood can flutterstep?”
“But only Mistress Lydia can do that!” a woman whispered. “How is this possible?”
“Give him space!” another woman shouted. “Give our lord space! Do not crowd him!”
As his people all retreated to a more respectful position, Drake spotted two more people gawking down at him from the second floor balcony. They must have finally arrived to pull him over only to find him already down here. That must have confused them a little.
Before he could say anything, Nicole leapt over the banister herself. She briefly caught herself on the edge of the top floor and pushed off that, then pulled a whole damn flip in midair. She stuck a perfect gymnast landing on the hard wooden floor nearby. Her legs visibly flexed as she absorbed the impact, after which she straightened and smiled his way.
“See?” Nicole winked. “You were never in any real danger.”
He glared at her. “Well just because you’re a fucking acrobat doesn’t mean I am!”
Captain Ro’s possibly incriminating letters were now in the hands of Skybreak Manor and Lucien, Sky’s codebreaking blood thrall. There was nothing more he could do to uncover the identity of their mutual enemy at the moment, and he would need to get an early start tomorrow. He had a manor full of people to ask about obedience fetishes, and hopefully, he wouldn’t stumble across any more fetishes... of any kind.
Still, he felt like he had far more than eight hours of darkness left. Without a wristwatch or cell phone to tell time, he was only vaguely aware of time’s passing. Morning, noon, afternoon, evening, and night were about as deep as he drilled into his day-to-day.
He didn’t even know if the days lasted twenty-four hours here, because he had no method to accurately measure a day here against a day on Earth. Not to mention each day on Earth was already slightly longer or shorter than the next, depending on the time of year.
Yet he was already growing used to not having a precise grasp of time, and not just that. The way he thought about death was also changing. He had murdered three people today, in perhaps the most gruesome manner he could manage, and he felt no guilt at all.
Four assassins had come here to kill him, and each one might have had a family waiting at home. Parents. Kids. Drake had killed them because he was stronger, luckier, or both. They were dead and he was alive, and he felt very strongly about that.
He felt glad.
Grieving over every fallen enemy who tried to kill him or his people would drive him mad. From the first moment he’d arrived in this fucked up fantasy world, he’d been given two choices. Cower as a weakling and die in agony... or fight and kill as a manor lord.
And live.
He wouldn’t sleep yet, nor would he read until he felt tired. He could still cram far more work into his remaining waking hours than he had been. It was time to visit his secret spy chamber. As Drake rose and took one step toward the door, it slammed into his face.
Nose aching as if he’d just taken a punch, Drake stumbled back and barely kept his balance. He stood now directly in front of his locked door, and he was horribly dizzy. His eyes darted desperately around the dark room for an attacker, some magic, an explanation.
“Was that a knock?” Nicole called from the other side of the door.
Drake took one more look around his empty room, then cautiously reached out to unlock the door. “Can you come in here, please?”
As Nicole opened the door, Drake took one step back. Something slammed into his back so hard it dropped him flat on his face. A hand touched his shoulder.
“Lord?” Nicole now sounded a little annoyed. “You can nap on the bed.”
Drake gasped and raised his head to find it aching. Had he just been knocked out? It felt like he’d only stepped away from the door a moment ago, yet Nicole was kneeling at his side. From the annoyance in her tone, it sounded like she’d been there awhile.
He’d been knocked out. He knew because he’d been knocked out before, once, when he was sparring with a dude who was much bigger than he was. That KO had felt just like this... one moment he was on his feet, and an instant later, he was on his back.
The world was still swimming before his eyes, a little, but he focused and ground his teeth until it stopped. His head ached. “I think we may have a problem.”
“Does this have to do with you sleeping on your floor?”
“Some force attacked me just now.” Drake pushed up on his hands and knees, then crouched beside his battle maid. “When I walked for the door, it just...”
“Attacked you?”
“Yes.”
“The door attacked you?”
He glared at the now open door to his bedroom, then looked at her.
“I’m not sure I can defeat a door,” Nicole added. “I’ve never fought one before.”
“Will you just listen to me? When I stepped back, something slammed me into the wall of my bedroom so hard I passed out.”
“Walls too? We may need to wake up Emily. She’s fought a wall before.”
Drake rose cautiously, eyes fixed on the door. “Just... watch my back, all right?”
“Of course. If your bed comes after you, I’ll stab it the moment it moves.”
Drake took one cautious step forward, arms out. Then, he took another. When he took the third, he slammed into the banister on the edge of his second floor balcony and tumbled over it. The manor roof and floor shifted wildly as he caught a death grip around a single post.
As his feet pumped wildly in the air, he dangled directly above a drop that felt longer than it should be. More importantly, there was no carpet down there. Just hardwood floor.
“You just flutterstepped!” Nicole shouted happily from behind him.
Still maintaining his death grip on the banister he’d pitched himself over, Drake desperately looked upward for help. “What?”
Nicole slammed hands first into the banister above him, the brown bangs dangling just over her eyes. Her wide grin mocked his situation as she leaned dangerously over the edge. “You flutterstepped! Just like Lydia!”
“The fuck am I doing flutterstepping?” Drake almost lost his grip on the ledge, which felt like it was about to pull his arms out of their sockets. “Help me!”
“It’s only a short drop,” Nicole assured him. “Just let go! Even if you break a leg, Raylan can fix that in a few days!”
“Will you just help me up already?” Apparently, Nicole’s laissez-faire attitude extended to keeping the lord of Gloomwood Manor alive. Which... wasn’t great.
Nicole reached down to grip his arms, then frowned. “I don’t think I’m strong enough to haul you back over this banister. Why not flutterstep again?”
“How are you not strong enough? Emily’s practically a zarovian!”
“Emily is a beast,” Nicole corrected. “I win because I’m fast and pretty.”
“You’re almost the same size!” Drake shouted desperately. “Just... get Cresh!”
“I don’t think I should leave you hanging from a banister to fetch a zarovian, lord. What if an assassin comes along while I’m away? Or worse, another door?”
“Goddammit, Nicole, if you don’t help me up right now—”
“Lord Gloomwood!” someone shouted from below. “Is that Lord Gloomwood?”
“It is him!” another voice shouted. “Gods! What’s he doing way up there?”
Drake dared glance down from his tenuous perch to find at least three people in servant’s garb clustered in a semicircle on the floor below, gaping up in alarm. Two more were visibly running to see what all the fuss was about. An armored zarovian was also on his way.
So now he wasn’t just dangling off a second floor banister. He was dangling off a second floor banister while multiple people who he needed to respect him watched him do it. He really should have called it a night after his nice chat with the hot blond manor lord.
“More are coming to help you, lord!” a man shouted up from below. “Just hold on! It’s just... it’s a long way to the stairs!”
They were right, of course. His master bedroom was dead center between the central stairs and the spiral staircase at the far end of the west hall, primarily to ensure anyone who wanted to approach it had a long way along an open balcony to walk. Unfortunately, that also meant anyone who wanted to do what Nicole was not doing would have a run.
“What’ve you got to lose by giving flutterstep another try?” Nicole asked from above. “I mean, besides your dignity and the respect of your blood thralls?”
As he glared up at Nicole, she grinned down at him with what looked like genuine amusement. How could she just not help? Still... she also hadn’t kicked him off the banister.
Could he really die if he simply let go and dropped to the floor from here? He might have freaked out initially. He might not even break anything, though the soles of his feet would sting like hell if he landed on them. His arms were cramping up.
Nicole couldn’t lie about the fact that he had flutterstepped. Somehow... he was using Lydia’s rarity. So maybe, after all he’d seen in the courtyard, he could give this one a try. It wasn’t like Lydia hadn’t talked about it after her duel with Emily.
“It’s her rarity, lord,” Lydia said. “I learned something the first time I dueled her. When I flutterstep, I focus on where I wish to be. It seems my soul appears in that space just before my body transitions. I never knew this until I met her, and obviously, it usually isn’t a problem.”
Drake stared intently at the hard and terrifying floor just daring him to break his neck. Focus on where I wish to be. Focus on where I wish to be. Where he wanted to be, right now, was on the fucking floor of his fucking manor. Not hanging off a banister.
He breathed deep. Still intently focused on a clear spot of floor below, he released the banister and took one step. Or rather, flailed his feet in midair.
Drake stumbled forward and almost lost his balance, but he did stumble. On hard manor floor. He hadn’t fallen so much as walked, forward, despite hanging far above this floor not a moment ago. As he gasped and froze, arms out for balance, he gawked.
Holy shit. He glanced up just in time to see the last few spectral butterflies dissipating near the banister he’d just released.
“You did it!” Nicole shouted from above. “Lydia would be so proud of you!”
As Drake straightened, a few of the people he’d seen earlier all beat feet to his position and surrounded him.
A man stared with wide, awed eyes. “Lord Gloomwood can flutterstep?”
“But only Mistress Lydia can do that!” a woman whispered. “How is this possible?”
“Give him space!” another woman shouted. “Give our lord space! Do not crowd him!”
As his people all retreated to a more respectful position, Drake spotted two more people gawking down at him from the second floor balcony. They must have finally arrived to pull him over only to find him already down here. That must have confused them a little.
Before he could say anything, Nicole leapt over the banister herself. She briefly caught herself on the edge of the top floor and pushed off that, then pulled a whole damn flip in midair. She stuck a perfect gymnast landing on the hard wooden floor nearby. Her legs visibly flexed as she absorbed the impact, after which she straightened and smiled his way.
“See?” Nicole winked. “You were never in any real danger.”
He glared at her. “Well just because you’re a fucking acrobat doesn’t mean I am!”
