Letitia was in the bakehouse of the confectionery when I returned from my little detour. I leaned against the doorpost, watching my lady intently focusing on kneading the dough. The commoner woman versed in baking, Hearthe, was also with her, standing before the oven, hands decked in fabric gloves my usual cobbler had procured. I wasn’t keenly interested in the bruises on her face, so I focused my attention on my lady.

I was a little disappointed she didn’t notice me. Perhaps clairvoyance was a skill undead developed, but I expected her to detect me at least. Alas, here I was, having expectations like mortals.

“What happened to your face?” Letitia asked, her hands busy. She pushed back the strands of hair that had managed to escape her chef’s hat with her arm and got back to kneading the dough. This portion of bread was for me, and I couldn’t wipe the smile off my face.

“Just a scuffle with my brother, lady Letitia,” Hearthe replied. “But I can handle it,” she paused, watching me at the door. “No, I should handle it.”

I walked towards Letitia and tucked the disturbing strands of hair behind her ears. “Got some mulberry dews, Letitia. Already dropped them at the coffers.”

My lady smiled at me and turned to the woman, passing her the utensil in the meantime. “You should. If I handle it, you will be losing your only family.”

Hearthe bobbed her head, accepting the dough.

Everyone working for the manor knew Letitia’s temperament by now. If you did your work, the benefits were more than what one could ask for. And if you didn’t, the punishment was worse than the gallows. Perhaps this had to do with the lax behavior of the maids we had faced growing up. But it all came together quite nicely for me.

“Starting tomorrow, you will manage the kitchen of the confectionery,” my lady said. “You get to keep what you earn, but we need thirty percent of the profits every two fortnights, and you can do the rest as you deem fit. The recipes aren’t meant to be disclosed; I don’t think you need a second reminder on this. Of course, I’ll leave the working staff as they are, but should you feel the need to change them, don’t hesitate. And I hate reports, so keep them at a minimum.”

“Lady Letitia, I…” There was hesitance in Hearthe’s voice. 

“What?” My lady clicked her tongue. “Do you think thirty percent is too much?”

“No, no,” Hearthe shook her head fervently. “This servant doesn’t dare! Rather, I think this favor is too much for me to handle.”

My lady waved her hand and said, “I have seen you work hard beside me. Never once did you complain, nor did you ever ask for anything. My decisions; you respected them as if they were your own. Servant or not, this is something I appreciate,” she glanced at me and shrugged.

“This servant is grateful for your words,” her face broke into a glimmer of a smile, and she bowed her head. “I will not disappoint you, lady Letitia.”

“Then, I will leave with my man,” she said and glared at the woman. 

My lady still held a grudge over the flower incident of the past. Talk about being petty. So unlike me.

On our way out, I watched the bustling store and ruffled Letitia’s hair. “You have become a successful businesswoman. Who would have thought an unruly girl from the Academy would end up becoming a successful confectionery store owner?”

“Businesswoman?” My lady flicked my forehead. “I only learned baking. Arabell managed everything else. The success of the store, you owe it to them equally. Just because I’m your woman doesn’t mean you can shamelessly steal all the spotlight for me, my undead.”

A smile danced on her lips, and she held my hand as we walked out, this time in the open. We earned a few stares from the commoners around us, but it was mostly my lady’s beauty attracting the attention of the mortals.

“Did you talk about it to Arabell? I bet she would be furious,” I shrugged.

“On the contrary, it was her decision, and I quite liked it,” Letitia said. “She said we have enough treasury, and the passive income from ships and the confectionary store was too much given that we have been used to a frugal way of living now. More riches would attract unwanted attention, or so she said. I don’t really care. Let her handle the household and I would gladly abide by her rules if I get to spend more time with you.”

I shook my head. “Just how bad of an influence was I? For mortals, money means everything, so it is never bad to have more-”

“We have learned our lessons,” my lady stared at the busy streets before us. Her eyes lingered on a mother cradling her child, then on a couple laughing together, and finally on a drunkard sprawled at the end of the street. “We have seen what money could do to a person, to a family, and how it crumbles the very soul of the pathetic mortals. And I think Arabell understands this fact better than I do. So, it is better to have wealth in moderation and live comfortably rather than to hoard it and die miserably.

I watched her face for a while before sighing. “I thought you were looking for a way to live forever. You disappoint me, noble lady.”

“That I am, my undead. But,” she stared into my eyes, “if I were to die, I hope you will not forget me.”

“I will make you a demon if you die,” I rubbed her cheeks. 

“Please don’t,” she laughed. “I’d rather not live forever if it means losing the person I am. Can’t let go of you now, can I?”

We chatted idly all the way till we reached our residence. No hidden agendas, no machinations, just random conversations like other mortals. Perhaps I was losing my bit of immortal persona every day I spent with Letitia, but strangely, I didn’t mind. There was something unsettling poking my thoughts at every other juncture. Just undead survival instincts and I was long past the stage of heeding them.

We entered the western courtyard, passing Igan on our way. She reported something to Letitia and went ahead with her tasks. I gave her a brief nod of acknowledgment.

“We’ll be leaving for Coln tomorrow,” my lady said as we stood outside my door. 

“Should I ask Igan to prepare horses from the stables?” I asked as I nudged my door open.

“I have already told her,” she said. “I will ride with you.”

“But don’t you already know how to ride a horse, Letitia?” I said.

“I do,” she pecked my lips and ran her hand over my hair, “but I want to ride with you.”

Letitia stared at my face for a good while before she sighed. “Arabell wants to talk to me, so you should get some sleep. The manor accounts are in shambles, and she’s been struggling with organizing them. I’ll help her wrap things up before we leave.”

I ruffled her head. “I’ll wait for you.”

“Like a good husband,” she said and backstepped all the way, watching me with a grin. “I know you know it, but-”

“Then don’t say anything, Letita,” I laughed and stepped inside my room. 

“I adore you!” she shouted, and I sighed, closing the door shut.

“The cringe,” Glaz said, watching me intently from my table. “I still can’t understand how she seduced you, bastard undead. This great dragon would have eaten her alive if she was using any spell, but it seems like the weakest of all immortals is also weak to the charms of a mortal woman.”

“Gwar!” Yule nodded in agreement. 

“And here I thought you were on my side, Yule,” I flicked its forehead. “I’m leaving for Coln tomorrow.”

“What about our meals?”

“Gwar grr?” 

Both agreed on the question. 

“Arabell will deal with it. In return, protect the house till we return. I feel a bit uneasy with how things are proceeding, but impending doom is something we face all the time. Then again…”

“This time, it’s different for you, bastard undead. You have more than yourself to worry about, and this is never good. Mortals hold you back, so it’s better to let me gobble them before they tie you down to this shitty realm.”

“She’s too precious,” I sighed.

“Shut up, bastard undead! You want me to bake you?” Glaz was ready to shift back to his dragon form. 

I waved my hand. “Don’t bother trying, Glaz. You know what happened the last time you tried to bake me. Took you a few epochs to recover.”

“Bastard undead!” He roared. “This mighty dragon will forgive your impudence this one time. Don’t force my hand and regret it!”

I rolled my eyes and busied myself with packing. There wasn’t much I needed, so I settled for a bare minimum of my necessities, following which I walked to my lady’s room to pack her belongings. The room felt larger than usual with Letitia’s absence. It was my first time walking to her room in her absence. 

I opened her wardrobe and selected some comfortable clothing for the journey. Since her first excursion, she had preferred dressing like a man; the tunic and pants had left a lasting impression on her. I carefully folded the garments, recalling the annoyance in her eyes the first time she wore them.

As I stuffed up her backup, I noticed the books on her table, almost worn out with the number of times she had read them. Two delicate silver rings lay sprawled beside the disarrayed sheets, and I stuffed them back inside the casing. A marriage wasn’t something I was excited about. Ceremonies were necessary for mortals because they would like to revel in happy memories as they approached their end. But for undead like me, they were worthless. Every happy memory decays to nothingness in a few centuries, replaced by abysmal solitude and a desire for change. 

Perhaps, this time, it wouldn’t be the case. Letitia had given me too many fond memories to fall back on. The exact reason for my doom because I was stuck in this world for eternity. Or till I completely became benign again.

Was it possible? This undead didn't have an answer.

I sat against Letitia’s desk and began reading through her scribbled notebook. She was on track, and perhaps it would take her a few centuries to learn [Undead] at this rate. No matter how many secrets I divulged, it was impossible to increase the pace because she wasn't gifted to understand mana like many undead before her. 

Letitia knew it, and she accepted the bitter truth. The victors of life were those who worked tirelessly despite knowing their shortcomings. But we weren't talking about life here. Heck, never before was I jealous of every damn gifted mage. 

I lost track of time as I read page after page of things I already knew. Learning [Undead] boiled down to one simple truth: establishing an equivalence between mana and life force and learning to integrate it within your own. If one didn't have an aptitude for mana, it was impossible to learn the spell in a mortal’s lifespan. Not even in a ten-mortal lifespan. 

The door opened amidst my dilemma, and I saw Letitia walk in with a few loaves of bread.

“Impressed at my progress?” She asked with a grin and placed the plate beside me. Eyes pulled to a crescent, she ruffled my hair and planted a kiss on my forehead. “It's fine, my undead. Don't think about what happens after I die. You've been doing that every single day for the past three years. Let's enjoy the time we have. I won't give up either way.”

I opened my mouth but refrained from saying the hard truth. My chest felt congested, but I couldn't quite understand what I was feeling. Everything was novel for me, and I just rested my head in her bosom as she pulled me in a hug.

“I already know I'm not gifted, Rudolf,” she rubbed my back. “But it's all right. I'll try till my last breath. So please, even out of despair, don't make me a demon. I don't want you to live with that guilt.”

“I won't. And I never lie.”

I wish I did.