The rays of the sun glistened through the drapes of my lady’s chamber windows, and I opened them, letting the bright light fall atop her sleeping face. Her eyes shook slightly, and she mumbled something under her breath before covering the drapes over her. It was Merken, or Sunday in the modern world, but it didn’t mean I would let my lady waste away her mortal life. Every damn second was precious for mortals, so sleeping one-third of the life sounded like such a waste.
I glimpsed at her bedside and removed the book on undead, a bread perfume bottle, and her notes on mana assimilation before shaking her lightly. She twisted and twirled for a while, searching for objects to hurl at me and trying to leave a gash on my face as she did, but somehow, I managed to make her sit on her large bed.
“Mowgrel! Why do yow trowble me every mowning?!” she shouted at me in her slurry tone.
I shrugged.“We will spar today, my lady. So, it’s time to freshen up and get dressed.”
She pulled my tailcoat hard, and I collapsed on the bed, my left hand supporting my entire weight on one side of her as she playfully collapsed on her back. She held my neck before I could get off, and I covered her lips before her bad breath could violate me.
“Morning breath, my lady,” I said as her lips landed on my palms. Her cheeks had a faint pinkish glow, and I affirmed it was embarrassment after much thought. Nevertheless, I knew my lady would die instead of accepting it.
If you think a morning kiss is all you need to wake up, then think twice. Morning breaths are really terrible, whether you are undead or mortal. And I do not like to torture myself early in the morning.
I got off the bed and pulled her up with me, and she giggled, wrapping her arms around my neck, her legs around my abdomen.
I shot her a flat look. “My lady, stop fooling around, or I’ll throw another cake of grime on your face.”
“Bastard! I didn’t even punish you for that yesterday!” She didn't get off and tightened her hold on me.
I carried her to the door before flicking her forehead. “Really? Why was my body dead cold then, my lady?”
“You really stayed in the freezing water all night?” she asked in surprise, getting off me. “Well, one good thing about being undead is that I can punish you as brutally as I want. So, don’t ever get on my bad side, mongrel.”
I kneeled down and helped her wear her blue flip-flops before pulling her crumpled nightgown from the bottom. She at least looked presentable now, even if anyone dropped by the isolated western courtyard that was clean for the first time in almost ten years. Beth and Casey deserved some credit, but my lady’s hindsight should get more.
On the different note, I didn’t design this footwear, and they were not made up of any plastic foam, rather of leather modified with [Umbra] spell. Expensive they were, but my lady loved the comfort they offered, so she had multiple pairs of the same kind. Unless absolutely required, she never wore shoes, and it hurt my pride that the footwear I designed was deemed uncomfortable. Nevertheless, the original shoemaker should be blamed if anyone.
I prepared a green embroidered frock for the day but noticed that it was tattered at the bottom. We had to manage for at least half a month with this because my lady had just torn another one of gowns yesterday. We hardly had six before, and now her wardrobe was as empty as Garlan’s bread packets. I walked back to my room and started sewing the seams at the bottom.
My lady dropped by my room soon and took a seat on my hard cot, waiting for me to finish sewing patiently.
“Do you have any belongings, mongrel?” she asked, looking around the room.
“I don’t, my lady. Except for my spells, books, bread, ink, pen, perfume bottle–”
“That’s a lot!” She paused for a while and continued, “How about I give you a bracelet?”
“It’s useless, my lady. Servants can’t wear ornaments; you should know it better.”
“Every mongrel needs a leash,” my lady walked to me and held my chin. “I wouldn’t mind having a leash around your neck, but I suppose you don’t want that now, do you? So, you should just accept what I give you. A mongrel should never question his master.”
“Aren’t you scared of me, my lady?” I asked with the same smile that had threatened countless mortals.
“Aren’t you scared of this crazy bitch?” she mirrored my own smile, and I laughed. She was one amusing mortal; I had to hand it to her.
Once I was done with the job, I helped her get dressed and combed her hair before we ambled to the dining room. To our surprise, it was empty, and there was a commotion close to the entrance of the manor. I stood in front of my lady and sent my [Devil eye] to the entrance, pulling her back to the western courtyard.
“I told you already!” the Marquis bellowed, my eye scanning the face of the visitors. Royal guards. Even the guard with the talking mustache had dropped by, his accusing glance directed at Marquis.
It didn’t take an undead to know what was going on. I suppose my mischief was about to cost the Marquis heavily, and I couldn’t suppress my smile.
“That creepy smile means more slaughter, right?” my lady asked once we reached my room.
I nodded, too focused on the commotion at the entrance. I bet my lady was annoyed, but she just waited patiently instead of reprimanding me.
“He was the only one in the room along with concubines! Even they attested to that fact!” the mustache spoke again.
“Taiman!” the mage who led the royal guards bellowed, his grey hair standing erect, thanks to [Static]. “How dare you accuse Marquis Valorat?”
“B-but…” Taiman retreated with his mustache. His aggrieved look reflected the Marquis’s confusion, but the latter put on a fake front almost immediately.
“We just want to follow Escavs protocol, Marquis Valorat,” the mage said amicably, his purple robe particularly eye-catching even amidst the glittering silver Armor of the royal guards. “Even his majesty ordered us to go easy on you, so we will make sure you won’t suffer any grievance.”
Marquis knew better what rejecting Escavs meant as much as I did. And going easy was all horseshit crafted by these shrewd cops because the king would be hell-bent on investigating the Marquis. After all, this concerned the stability of his kingdom in general and the subtle balance of power amongst his retainers. Then again, the higher nobles, as always, would get better rooms and some women, or men, in the gallows instead whips and lashes. It was the universal truth in all words because money and status could even buy bread, let alone bails.
The king was suspicious by nature or probably senile by now. Once you get betrayed, you become skeptical of everyone around you until the same skepticism ultimately kills you. I suppose that’s what will happen to the ruler unless the noble readhead ascends the throne soon because that bastard had every quality befitting the great rulers of history. Alas, there was an unhappy undead in his capital, which might be the only–and most dangerous–glitch in his sweet little paradise.
All political maneuvers aside, it was time to kill the Marquis. I wanted to wait until my lady got her license, but this golden opportunity to sow seeds of mistrust amongst the retainers won’t come twice. The problem was my lady and her tender heart that hadn’t quite hardened yet.
The two sisters scuttled around the lady of the house, whose sacred trust in her husband surprised even the guards. She was least affected by the ongoing farce and tenderly held the Marquis’s hand, her face decked with a loving expression and her hair adorned with ornaments. She was too well dressed for breakfast, so I suppose everyone in the family knew about the commotion except for the western courtyard. Two people hardly made any difference, anyway.
“Everything will be fine, dear,” the lady said in her usual seductive tone. “We trust you, so you don’t have to worry about anything.”
Well, not everything would be okay. Because if the Marquis went to the gallows, he was a goner. I was the least bothered about the lady, so warning her was none of my concern.
The Marquis calmed down instantly, his serene impregnable face leaving the royal guards dumbstruck. He was a promising man destined to be in the officialdom, so it didn’t come off as surprising to me. Everyone feared the Escavs, whether noble or not, because they personally handled the king’s dirty deeds, be it uprooting the corrupt officials, or rerouting trade, or stealing from the treasury of his own retainers.
"I’ll accompany you to the office,” the Maquis said as his eyes squinted, memorizing faces of every single royal guard. Sadly, he won’t be alive for revenge.
The commotion died out soon, and the crowd dispersed, leaving a worried Marlica and her two daughters at the door. Sure, a window didn’t enjoy much status in the capital, so her worries, at least, weren’t pretentious.
“Escavs summoned the Marquis, my lady,” I said as soon as my third eye disappeared.
Letitia was scanning through my books in her boredom, and her eyes lit up when she heard me. She raised her eyes while I nodded.
“He was the last person the prince saw if you exclude me, so yes, he might get charged with manslaughter,” I said, gauging her reaction.
“So you want to kill him,” she said, and it wasn’t a question.
“It’s a good opportunity to raise some tumult in the capital, so–“
“Then do it,” my lady said. “As you said yesterday, I am an orphan. There’s no point in these deplorable feelings, so just off him and everyone else who disrespects your lady.”
I smiled at her. “We might lose our allowances completely, my lady.”
“Does it matter? I am planning to sell my mother’s dowry anyway, so we will have enough cash,” she smiled, and I didn’t feel that she was putting on a façade. It was genuine hatred, and she had given up on her family. At least on the Marquis. Either way worked for me, so I was elated at the prospect of nipping her craving for familial love.
“True. If we run low on cash, we can also take some quests,” I nodded, glad that my lady had acquiesced. “Then, tonight, the capital will see a corpse in the gallows. Or multiple, if guards stop me.”
Hoh so know we know leti hates mornings, honestly I hate them too lol
Morning is only there to keep dinner and lunch from bumping into each other
One of these days Letitia may arrange to use a body pillow. A grumbling one
I like how investigation led in the background comes to the surface