Early the next morning, after Anna left the tent to help the others break down the camp, Samuel reported to Drake for his argument. With Robby the creepy spy doll looking on from a table, Drake loudly berated Samuel for failing to follow his orders about changing their route. Samuel then flatly responded by reminding Drake he’d given no such orders.
Which was the truth.
After Drake was satisfied with the show he’d put on for whoever was watching them on the other end of the doll, he unceremoniously stuffed Robby back into his pack and scanned his roster for the names of the people who’d traveled with his party. He spotted a familiar name from last night—Tamara—and tracked down Samuel again. The man had left his tent in a fake huff.
“Where can I find Tamara?”
Samuel pointed out a small group of servants all working efficiently to package up the camp’s laundry and stored food stuffs. “She will be supervising the other scullery maids. She is the woman with the spectacles and blond hair.”
Drake nodded his thanks and approached the small group, which consisted of Tamara herself, two younger women in less ornate maid outfits, and a young man in a servant’s uniform. All were packing up the camp with practiced efficiency until one of the younger women, a dark-haired girl, noticed his approach. She hissed urgently as if to warn them.
The whole group came to attention as Drake approached, which was just something he was going to need to get used to dealing with. And at least he knew how to get rid of Robby for today. He could use one day when he didn’t have to worry about being spied on.
He produced the doll from his backpack. “Do we have any clothes appropriate for this?”
Tamara, a spectacle-wearing blond who was likely only a few years older than Drake herself, eyed him curiously. “For your doll, lord?” At least she seemed at ease with him.
“It’s for Anna,” Drake explained a bit self-consciously, just to avoid any confusion about him owning a doll. “She’s still a bit unsettled from her abduction, and I thought getting some nice new clothes for her doll help take her mind off what happened.”
His servants stood straighter, and one, the young dark-haired woman who’d called them attention, touched her mouth and made the tiniest little “D’aww!” Drake pretended he hadn’t heard her. Still, this was a far better reaction than having his people scatter at his approach.
Tamara smiled warmly and took the creepy wooden doll he offered. “I’m sure we can find or adjust something to fit her doll, lord. I’ll have it to you by lunch.”
Drake could actually use a full day without being spied on, but he couldn’t just say that. “I appreciate that, but I’d like to keep her focused on learning for today’s journey and surprise her before bed. Would you mind bringing the doll by the tent tonight after we set up camp?”
Tamara nodded. “We will ensure she does not see it while she works.”
“Great. Thanks. And uh... good job with the camp.” Drake motioned vaguely at the efficiently folded, stacked, or rolled up clothing and bedrolls. “You’re all doing great.”
His servants all nodded eagerly, and the young man even exclaimed “Thank you, lord!”
With what he hoped was a suitably dignified wave, Drake left so they could get back to work without their boss looming over them. Even if they were growing more comfortable with him, no one liked working with their manor lord scrutinizing their every move.
Soon they were ready to move once more, and after his footman opened his carriage for him—Drake had learned the man’s name was Rodger, an old name for such a young dude—he stepped inside to find Lydia and Samuel already waiting inside, deep in a discussion.
As the door closed behind him—Drake assumed Rodger would open it again when Anna arrived—Drake settled on the seat beside Lydia and leaned back on the soft cushion. Both had ended their conversation the moment he entered. They now watched him expectantly.
He felt like he had to say something to justify interrupting them. “Robby’s riding with the maids today. They’re going to make him a cute little suit and bring him by the tent tonight. So we should have at least one day on the road without being watched.”
Samuel nodded in approval. “How do you feel about our argument?”
“If it didn’t convince Lord Proudglade or whoever’s watching, I don’t know what would. We had to know whether the doll was spying on us, and I didn’t know a better way.”
“We did as best we could,” Samuel agreed. “While the fact that you were lying about our reasons for not switching routes yesterday seems obvious to me, that is only because I know what you are capable of. Given most others could not even conceive of your ability to present alternate facts, there is a good chance they will find other explanations.”
“You can just say lie. Make it easier on all of us.”
“Best not to, even in private,” Samuel said calmly. “Once one grows too comfortable with speaking freely of manor secrets, it becomes easier to slip up when one doesn’t intend to. Especially now that no one in the manor is compelled to keep your secrets.”
That made sense. “So, what were you two talking about before I arrived?”
“The possibility of your marriage to Lord Skybreak, and the logistics involved in merging our territories and vassals.”
Had Drake been drinking tea, he definitely would have spit it out. “The fuck, Samuel?”
Samuel looked truly surprised by his outburst. “Is something the matter?”
“Marriage?” Drake stared. “Didn’t we just agree to ally with her yesterday night?”
“We did,” Samuel said patiently. “I believe you made a fine decision, and I am pleased you were able to formalize an alliance with Lord Skybreak so quickly. I am even more pleased to learn that your opinions about blood pacts align. Perhaps it will be possible to change things.”
“That’s the dream.”
“Yet while an alliance is strong, a marriage would provide a unique opportunity for us to burnish both manors. It would also further prove the veracity of your approach.”
Drake frowned. “Where did this even come from? We don’t even know if she really likes me yet, or if she’s just angling for an alliance.”
Lydia’s brow furrowed. “If she... likes you, lord?”
“Life if she’d actually want to go on a date? Let alone marry me.”
Samuel cleared his throat. “I’m afraid this may be a cultural misunderstanding. Your prospective marriage to Lord Skybreak has nothing to do with whether you are physically attracted to each other. It is instead a way to bind our manors together so firmly even Lord Proudglade and his allies may hesitate to engage us in battle.”
“Oh,” Drake said, as both his shock at the idea and the fact that it was actually appealing crumbled beneath the weight of his manor lord responsibilities. “This is a political calculation.”
Samuel now appeared genuinely confused. “When would it not be?”
“A political calculation that could benefit both you and Lord Skybreak,” Lydia assured him. “Our silverwood is prized for its strength and durability, and lumber is one of the resources Skybreak Manor has the most difficulty acquiring thanks to their weak trees. By comparison, their quarries and underground vineries are among the richest in the land. Durable rock and fine wine are resources we must often trade for in Gloomwood Manor.”
“I see,” Drake said... reluctantly. “And how would a marriage be stronger than an alliance?”
Samuel looked all too eager to explain. “In an alliance, you and Lord Skybreak would formalize military obligations and negotiate favorable trade deals, but each of you would retain control over your manor’s affairs. Were you to marry and merge houses, by comparison, you would also merge your resources. We would, essentially, become one manor.”
Drake could see how that would be useful. He’d also never even considered getting married before now. He wasn’t even 24 years old yet! Not to mention he could be dead any day if an assassin got lucky. Sky seemed nice and was absolutely attractive but... marriage?
Still, he had to consider how differently things worked here. He was in a world that operated far more like the countries of old than the modern world he’d left. People got married a lot younger here, and royals, in particular, almost always got married for political reasons.
His only reference for such arrangements was the gossip he’d occasionally skimmed over about the British monarchy, but he remembered it had been quite a scandal when one of their royals claimed he wished to marry for “love” rather than marry for their country. Arranged marriages had been a thing throughout history, and most of the time, the nobles made due.
He wasn’t just a manor lord in charge of one manor and territory. He was nobility in this world, and nobles in history almost always married other nobles specifically to strengthen their fortunes or military power. That was why so many old stories were based around powerful people in arranged marriages stepping out with their forbidden side pieces.
“Any such marriage would be years in preparation.” Samuel spoke as if hoping to assuage Drake’s obvious discomfort with the idea. “If we are to consider such an arrangement, we should start making preparations now to be ready for such a merger, should it occur.”
“Sure,” Drake agreed. “I guess I can see why you’d want to plan for all possibilities.”
Even if he wanted to date in this world, it wasn’t like he could hook up with one of his own people. He also doubted he’d encounter a nice peasant woman he could date while running Gloomwood Manor. Some other manor lord would just abduct her and use her to get to him, or she’d turn out to be a femme fatale who’d ensnared him in a honey trap.
He didn’t need romance. He wasn’t necessarily even ready for romance. But if he did want to get serious with a woman at some point... his options were limited to a chosen few. And while he didn’t know the other options, Sky was already an attractive option.
But what was he even thinking? Already he was looking at Sky like an objective, another goal to be obtained in his pursuit of not having to look over his shoulder all the time. He wasn’t ready to be that type of manor lord yet. And as Samuel said, even if he somehow ended up eventually going in that direction, any decision would be years away.
Still, he was curious about one element of the logistics. “If Lord Skybreak and I got married, how would that change our blood pacts? What’s left of them, anyway?”
Samuel nodded thoughtfully. “I had forgotten your world does not have those. Were you and Lord Skybreak to marry, you would also need to resolve any differences between your pacts. You would adjust them before any such marriage occurred to be identical.”
“And if we disagreed, how would that work?”
“The two of you could negotiate whatever power-sharing arrangement you preferred. Ultimately, should you and Lord Skybreak agree to marry, the negotiations preceding your nuptials could take years. Such discussions can grow quite lengthy.”
Drake chuckled. “So there is one hell of a pre-nup. And what about divorce?”
Again, Lydia and Samuel looked at each other in obvious confusion, then back at him. “Is that a term from your word, lord?” Lydia asked.
“On my world, people do get married, but since there’s no blood pacts, there’s less negotiation. Also, in most cultures, if the marriage doesn’t work, people can get divorced. That means they dissolve the marriage and go their separate ways. Many even remarry later.”
Lydia looked truly confused by the concept. “That is... very strange, lord. And your world’s gods allow this?”
More cultural confusion. “Our world’s gods don’t give a shit. I don’t even know if our world has gods, or what they believe. In fact, arguments about what our gods believe are responsible for a good number of the wars that happen in my world.”
“I see,” Samuel said. “It may then perhaps be best to clearly explain how marriage works between manor lords. Once you agree to marry, and the negotiations regarding who will maintain dominion over what have been concluded, you will then mix your blood in a ceremony blessed by the Eidolons who, if they approve, will unite your blood pacts.”
“And you don’t generally un-unite blood pacts,” Drake agreed. “That’s a forever thing.”
“That is correct.” Samuel nodded firmly. “Even if one of you subsequently died, the united blood pact would remain with the survivor. That is another way a marriage is stronger than an alliance. Any enemies must now defeat two people to seize it.”
That did sound like an advantage he hadn’t considered. So long as he remained a bachelor, anyone who killed him and his successor would immediately inherit Gloomwood Manor and all its people... though they’d get killed almost immediately. Still, he’d be dead.
By comparison, if he was married to Sky and one of them got murdered, the other could keep both their manors and their people safe. They could even keep their unique approach to manor management a secret until they were ready to push more manor lords to follow it.
It seemed ‘until death do you part’ was quite literal in this world, with any marriage approved by and likely enforced by actual gods. That changed his mental calculations. Could he ever marry anyone knowing this world’s gods would ensure it could never be undone?
That was a question he didn’t need to consider for years, and only if he was still alive.
Early the next morning, after Anna left the tent to help the others break down the camp, Samuel reported to Drake for his argument. With Robby the creepy spy doll looking on from a table, Drake loudly berated Samuel for failing to follow his orders about changing their route. Samuel then flatly responded by reminding Drake he’d given no such orders.
Which was the truth.
After Drake was satisfied with the show he’d put on for whoever was watching them on the other end of the doll, he unceremoniously stuffed Robby back into his pack and scanned his roster for the names of the people who’d traveled with his party. He spotted a familiar name from last night—Tamara—and tracked down Samuel again. The man had left his tent in a fake huff.
“Where can I find Tamara?”
Samuel pointed out a small group of servants all working efficiently to package up the camp’s laundry and stored food stuffs. “She will be supervising the other scullery maids. She is the woman with the spectacles and blond hair.”
Drake nodded his thanks and approached the small group, which consisted of Tamara herself, two younger women in less ornate maid outfits, and a young man in a servant’s uniform. All were packing up the camp with practiced efficiency until one of the younger women, a dark-haired girl, noticed his approach. She hissed urgently as if to warn them.
The whole group came to attention as Drake approached, which was just something he was going to need to get used to dealing with. And at least he knew how to get rid of Robby for today. He could use one day when he didn’t have to worry about being spied on.
He produced the doll from his backpack. “Do we have any clothes appropriate for this?”
Tamara, a spectacle-wearing blond who was likely only a few years older than Drake herself, eyed him curiously. “For your doll, lord?” At least she seemed at ease with him.
“It’s for Anna,” Drake explained a bit self-consciously, just to avoid any confusion about him owning a doll. “She’s still a bit unsettled from her abduction, and I thought getting some nice new clothes for her doll help take her mind off what happened.”
His servants stood straighter, and one, the young dark-haired woman who’d called them attention, touched her mouth and made the tiniest little “D’aww!” Drake pretended he hadn’t heard her. Still, this was a far better reaction than having his people scatter at his approach.
Tamara smiled warmly and took the creepy wooden doll he offered. “I’m sure we can find or adjust something to fit her doll, lord. I’ll have it to you by lunch.”
Drake could actually use a full day without being spied on, but he couldn’t just say that. “I appreciate that, but I’d like to keep her focused on learning for today’s journey and surprise her before bed. Would you mind bringing the doll by the tent tonight after we set up camp?”
Tamara nodded. “We will ensure she does not see it while she works.”
“Great. Thanks. And uh... good job with the camp.” Drake motioned vaguely at the efficiently folded, stacked, or rolled up clothing and bedrolls. “You’re all doing great.”
His servants all nodded eagerly, and the young man even exclaimed “Thank you, lord!”
With what he hoped was a suitably dignified wave, Drake left so they could get back to work without their boss looming over them. Even if they were growing more comfortable with him, no one liked working with their manor lord scrutinizing their every move.
Soon they were ready to move once more, and after his footman opened his carriage for him—Drake had learned the man’s name was Rodger, an old name for such a young dude—he stepped inside to find Lydia and Samuel already waiting inside, deep in a discussion.
As the door closed behind him—Drake assumed Rodger would open it again when Anna arrived—Drake settled on the seat beside Lydia and leaned back on the soft cushion. Both had ended their conversation the moment he entered. They now watched him expectantly.
He felt like he had to say something to justify interrupting them. “Robby’s riding with the maids today. They’re going to make him a cute little suit and bring him by the tent tonight. So we should have at least one day on the road without being watched.”
Samuel nodded in approval. “How do you feel about our argument?”
“If it didn’t convince Lord Proudglade or whoever’s watching, I don’t know what would. We had to know whether the doll was spying on us, and I didn’t know a better way.”
“We did as best we could,” Samuel agreed. “While the fact that you were lying about our reasons for not switching routes yesterday seems obvious to me, that is only because I know what you are capable of. Given most others could not even conceive of your ability to present alternate facts, there is a good chance they will find other explanations.”
“You can just say lie. Make it easier on all of us.”
“Best not to, even in private,” Samuel said calmly. “Once one grows too comfortable with speaking freely of manor secrets, it becomes easier to slip up when one doesn’t intend to. Especially now that no one in the manor is compelled to keep your secrets.”
That made sense. “So, what were you two talking about before I arrived?”
“The possibility of your marriage to Lord Skybreak, and the logistics involved in merging our territories and vassals.”
Had Drake been drinking tea, he definitely would have spit it out. “The fuck, Samuel?”
Samuel looked truly surprised by his outburst. “Is something the matter?”
“Marriage?” Drake stared. “Didn’t we just agree to ally with her yesterday night?”
“We did,” Samuel said patiently. “I believe you made a fine decision, and I am pleased you were able to formalize an alliance with Lord Skybreak so quickly. I am even more pleased to learn that your opinions about blood pacts align. Perhaps it will be possible to change things.”
“That’s the dream.”
“Yet while an alliance is strong, a marriage would provide a unique opportunity for us to burnish both manors. It would also further prove the veracity of your approach.”
Drake frowned. “Where did this even come from? We don’t even know if she really likes me yet, or if she’s just angling for an alliance.”
Lydia’s brow furrowed. “If she... likes you, lord?”
“Life if she’d actually want to go on a date? Let alone marry me.”
Samuel cleared his throat. “I’m afraid this may be a cultural misunderstanding. Your prospective marriage to Lord Skybreak has nothing to do with whether you are physically attracted to each other. It is instead a way to bind our manors together so firmly even Lord Proudglade and his allies may hesitate to engage us in battle.”
“Oh,” Drake said, as both his shock at the idea and the fact that it was actually appealing crumbled beneath the weight of his manor lord responsibilities. “This is a political calculation.”
Samuel now appeared genuinely confused. “When would it not be?”
“A political calculation that could benefit both you and Lord Skybreak,” Lydia assured him. “Our silverwood is prized for its strength and durability, and lumber is one of the resources Skybreak Manor has the most difficulty acquiring thanks to their weak trees. By comparison, their quarries and underground vineries are among the richest in the land. Durable rock and fine wine are resources we must often trade for in Gloomwood Manor.”
“I see,” Drake said... reluctantly. “And how would a marriage be stronger than an alliance?”
Samuel looked all too eager to explain. “In an alliance, you and Lord Skybreak would formalize military obligations and negotiate favorable trade deals, but each of you would retain control over your manor’s affairs. Were you to marry and merge houses, by comparison, you would also merge your resources. We would, essentially, become one manor.”
Drake could see how that would be useful. He’d also never even considered getting married before now. He wasn’t even 24 years old yet! Not to mention he could be dead any day if an assassin got lucky. Sky seemed nice and was absolutely attractive but... marriage?
Still, he had to consider how differently things worked here. He was in a world that operated far more like the countries of old than the modern world he’d left. People got married a lot younger here, and royals, in particular, almost always got married for political reasons.
His only reference for such arrangements was the gossip he’d occasionally skimmed over about the British monarchy, but he remembered it had been quite a scandal when one of their royals claimed he wished to marry for “love” rather than marry for their country. Arranged marriages had been a thing throughout history, and most of the time, the nobles made due.
He wasn’t just a manor lord in charge of one manor and territory. He was nobility in this world, and nobles in history almost always married other nobles specifically to strengthen their fortunes or military power. That was why so many old stories were based around powerful people in arranged marriages stepping out with their forbidden side pieces.
“Any such marriage would be years in preparation.” Samuel spoke as if hoping to assuage Drake’s obvious discomfort with the idea. “If we are to consider such an arrangement, we should start making preparations now to be ready for such a merger, should it occur.”
“Sure,” Drake agreed. “I guess I can see why you’d want to plan for all possibilities.”
Even if he wanted to date in this world, it wasn’t like he could hook up with one of his own people. He also doubted he’d encounter a nice peasant woman he could date while running Gloomwood Manor. Some other manor lord would just abduct her and use her to get to him, or she’d turn out to be a femme fatale who’d ensnared him in a honey trap.
He didn’t need romance. He wasn’t necessarily even ready for romance. But if he did want to get serious with a woman at some point... his options were limited to a chosen few. And while he didn’t know the other options, Sky was already an attractive option.
But what was he even thinking? Already he was looking at Sky like an objective, another goal to be obtained in his pursuit of not having to look over his shoulder all the time. He wasn’t ready to be that type of manor lord yet. And as Samuel said, even if he somehow ended up eventually going in that direction, any decision would be years away.
Still, he was curious about one element of the logistics. “If Lord Skybreak and I got married, how would that change our blood pacts? What’s left of them, anyway?”
Samuel nodded thoughtfully. “I had forgotten your world does not have those. Were you and Lord Skybreak to marry, you would also need to resolve any differences between your pacts. You would adjust them before any such marriage occurred to be identical.”
“And if we disagreed, how would that work?”
“The two of you could negotiate whatever power-sharing arrangement you preferred. Ultimately, should you and Lord Skybreak agree to marry, the negotiations preceding your nuptials could take years. Such discussions can grow quite lengthy.”
Drake chuckled. “So there is one hell of a pre-nup. And what about divorce?”
Again, Lydia and Samuel looked at each other in obvious confusion, then back at him. “Is that a term from your word, lord?” Lydia asked.
“On my world, people do get married, but since there’s no blood pacts, there’s less negotiation. Also, in most cultures, if the marriage doesn’t work, people can get divorced. That means they dissolve the marriage and go their separate ways. Many even remarry later.”
Lydia looked truly confused by the concept. “That is... very strange, lord. And your world’s gods allow this?”
More cultural confusion. “Our world’s gods don’t give a shit. I don’t even know if our world has gods, or what they believe. In fact, arguments about what our gods believe are responsible for a good number of the wars that happen in my world.”
“I see,” Samuel said. “It may then perhaps be best to clearly explain how marriage works between manor lords. Once you agree to marry, and the negotiations regarding who will maintain dominion over what have been concluded, you will then mix your blood in a ceremony blessed by the Eidolons who, if they approve, will unite your blood pacts.”
“And you don’t generally un-unite blood pacts,” Drake agreed. “That’s a forever thing.”
“That is correct.” Samuel nodded firmly. “Even if one of you subsequently died, the united blood pact would remain with the survivor. That is another way a marriage is stronger than an alliance. Any enemies must now defeat two people to seize it.”
That did sound like an advantage he hadn’t considered. So long as he remained a bachelor, anyone who killed him and his successor would immediately inherit Gloomwood Manor and all its people... though they’d get killed almost immediately. Still, he’d be dead.
By comparison, if he was married to Sky and one of them got murdered, the other could keep both their manors and their people safe. They could even keep their unique approach to manor management a secret until they were ready to push more manor lords to follow it.
It seemed ‘until death do you part’ was quite literal in this world, with any marriage approved by and likely enforced by actual gods. That changed his mental calculations. Could he ever marry anyone knowing this world’s gods would ensure it could never be undone?
That was a question he didn’t need to consider for years, and only if he was still alive.
