"I always knew you were a few cards short of a deck, Claybrook," Will wiped the mead from his lips. "But you know what? That's your best feature."  

For the last hour, Damien had regaled the youth with stories of his adventures during their time apart. From the time he was sent to Baumeister, his meeting of Bea the Sexy Ghost, his mother turning her into an eldritch horror beyond his understanding that could've laid waste to the entire Kingdom, how he disowned his parents and started a city-wide orgy by using too many drugs and letting his latent Sex Demon powers run amok. 

And how he was planning to settle down in Reykjavik for a while and wanted Will to tag along because he missed having male friends around to do dumb shit with.

"So fuck it, I'm in." He downed the last of his drink. "Better than staying here waiting to get drafted. Right, Phil?" He nudged the boy next to him. As one of Damien's few friends, he had been picked up by Will on their way here. 

He didn't even have time to change out of his work outfit, a dark-colored uniform with the Claybrook family crest stitched into the collar.

The boy gave a shaky laugh. "Really wouldn't like that, yeah."

Damien grinned. "Right? A pretty boy like you, you'd never make it in a war. Might chip a nail."

"Got some nerve calling him the pretty boy," Will snorted. Then looked his friend up and down, "Though maybe it holds true now. " He shook his head in wonder. "Seriously, how did you change so much? You're like a full head taller than me or more. The fuck you been eating?"

"Pussy," Damien responded mildly. "It does wonders, really kicks the hormones into overdrive. I was due for a growth spurt anyway."

"Growth spurt, my ass. You know, you're the one who should be worried about getting drafted. You're prime recruitment material now."

"And you're prime rent-boy material. You get drafted, your ass is going straight to the brothels."

In times of war, the militaries of numerous nations would send units of prostitutes that followed the army and provided stress relief to the battle-weary soldiers. Being a war prostitute was undoubtedly the worst occupation a woman--hell, even a man--could be sent to. 

In spite of that some whores volunteered in a misguided sense of patriotism, others for the high pay. And then the rest were criminals who got sent to serve out their sentence under the cocks of men at war. 

There were tiers, too. Some of the younger, more beautiful or skilled whores were reserved for officers and didn't experience much change in their daily lives. The lower-tiered who res, however, had it pretty rough. 

Depending on the size of the brothel sent with the army, each prostitute would have to serve two hundred to six hundred men a month or they wouldn't receive their pay. They often died of disease and were left on the side of the road unless some kind soul paid for them to be returned home, if they had one, or buried, or put on a pyre at the least.

But anyway let's do the calculations. To put into perspective what six hundred men a month is, thats twenty men a day. Or, on average, seven-hundred and fourteen inches of cock a week. Friends, that is over two thousand inches of cock per month.

Even in the best scenario, its still over eight hundred inches of cock a month.   

Damien informed the other two as much and the boys visibly shook, trying to shake the disturbing images that popped into their heads at the unasked-for information.

"I really didn't need to know that," Phill looked sick. "I think I'm going to throw up." 

 "Well we'd best get going before that happens, then," Will moved a bit away from him, giving him a warning stare. 

Damien smiled and rose from his seat. He stared down at his old friend's handsome face and offered him his hand. "Run away with me," He said, voice rich and husky.

"...Why the fuck do you have to say it like that?" Will groaned, ignoring the hand and standing on his own. "Come on, creep, let's hit the road before Phil spills his guts all over my new boots."

With that, the three departed and wandered the streets a bit until they came nearer the southern side of the city where a small port made its home. As they walked, Phillip suddenly called out in a hushed tone. "Hey, Will. Is it just me, or--?"

"No, I noticed too," He replied before the boy could finish.

"Did we... do something? They keep staring at us." Phil pulled at his collar nervously. Will glanced about, taking note of the strange gazes coming their way. Specifically from women.

After a moment, he slowly opened his mouth. "I don't think us is the word to use here. "

Seeing Will's slightly grim-set face, Phil went quiet. He never interacted much with Will, but he knew the boy wasn't easily shaken.

Feelings mildly disturbed, he looked ahead at Young Master Damien and then to the surrounding women. Recalling Will's words just now, he realized what he meant. It isnt "they," as a group, the women were focused on. It was "him," Damien, specifically.

Now, Phil was used to girls giving his Young Master second looks. This, this was different. 

Like, every woman they passed was utterly transfixed. And as they walked, he saw that things only grew stranger. Even if they were locked in the arms of their partners, the women would stop and stare with open desire upon their faces. They'd take opportunities to brush against him whenever possible, or if he stopped to look at some bauble that had caught his eye there would be a lady who would lean in and take a whiff of him as if he was something tasty. 

Will, for his part, spotted several who had even slightly closed their legs and folded their hands near their crotches. 

This wasn't just about being blessed with abnormal good-looks. This was something else entirely and neither of the two were sure what, exactly, that meant. 

It was unsettling. 

With their teeth on edge, they soon saw a pretty green-haired young girl come into view. More than pretty, actually. Vera was among the most attractive people Will had ever met even as young as she is. In fact, among the women Will had seen in his life, the four most beautiful were all related to Damien in some fashion.

His mother, Muriel. Mary, their head maid. Dolly, his sister. And right in front of him, Vera, his sister's personal assistant. Other girls and women just paled in comparison, to be honest. 

"Wilfred, Philo." Vera acknowledged. 

"Will," The young man corrected as he took in the fishy river scent drift over. The port nearby meant it was a prime location for a market, where Vera was sent to purchase new supplies.

"Whichever," She replied indifferently. "Here, carry these," The girl handed them several heavy bags. "Either make yourselves useful or kindly stop forcing some poor tree to keep making up for the air you waste."

Phil nodded silently. Will, however, blinked."Oh. Well, okay, that was just hurtful." He was feeling his self-esteem hit rock bottom and digging. 

Coming from such a gorgeous little lady, even common insults were devastating. But Vera? She could be creative. 

"Go to sleep and dream about someone who cares." She responded carelessly before wandering off to a stall next to them.

 Will watched her a moment then turned to Damien.

"What did you do?"

"Hm?" 

"She's never been a ray of sunshine but she is at least usually not quite so prickly...which means you did something."

"Why are you just assuming it was me?"

"So it isn't?"

"No, it is, but why are you assuming it's something I did specifically?" He grumbled.

"Because the only person I've ever seen that can ruffle that girl's feathers like that is you. Sometimes Baz, but he's been with your sister," Will explained. "So what didn't you tell me?"

" Many things a mystery to you, yet are, young Padawan. Learn, you will, when ready."

Will, long since used to Damien's nonsense, just went with it. "So you aren't going to tell me, then."

The other shrugged. "If I told you now, you guys might not want to come."

"I already don't, I think."

"Too bad. I need some male company." He glanced at the various women shooting him flirtatious looks from all around them. "I mean, the attention from women is nice but a good bromance is needed sometimes, too."

Will followed his gaze and frowned. "Yeah...you might not've been bullshitting about that part. I noticed, but isn't this kind of extreme?"

"I'm part Sex Demon, William." Damien rolled his eyes. "This is very tame compared to a few months ago. I woke up one day and found a strange woman trying to suck my soul through my cock."

"The fuck you did." 

Damien grunted. "Fine. It was three women."

"You are such a lying asshole" 

"Okay, but they definitely would've had Vee not shooed them off." Damien lied. He wasn't so unaware that such a thing wouldn't wake him. Still, the fact they tried....

Will thought of something just then. "Speaking of, did Vee...?"

Damien smacked him. "Don't even think about it. Vee would never try something so bold as that. She is pure of mind and body, unblemished by mortal desire."

Vera, being not far away and with excellent senses, picked up on that and felt her ears burn. She recalled that morning she found him asleep and crawled into the bed as he slept. 

"Huh," Will expressed. "Maybe she's too young for that "sex demon" thing to work."

"No, like I said--"

"You seem pretty defensive of her all of a sudden, eh?" Will cut him off. His smile was irritating. "I remember you finding her pretty infuriating at one point."

"Time together has opened my eyes to her charms."

"Oh?" Will's lips curved. "The Mother-Hunting Demon, charmed by a young lass barely getting into her teens?"

"She's adorable, what else can I say?"

Phil, who had remained quiet for some time, nearly stumbled as he heard that.

 "Adorable?"  Vera was certainly very pretty, sure, but adorable was not a word he would use to describe her. More like, volatile. Or caustic. Like a flowering vine covered in long, sharp thorns that cut at the barest touch. 

What part of her was "adorable"? 

"Oh yeah. Very." Damien grinned widely. Then turned serious. "But don't be getting any ideas. She's mine. I'll kill you."

"Uh, yeah, no worries. I'm not, nor will I ever be, interested." 

"Why?" Damien got close enough to breathe down the other's face. "You think she ain't good enough for you or something, huh?" 

"I just don't have the strength of mind to date someone like her. It's not good for my health."

Damien snorted. "Your ass couldn't even handle dating someone like Honey, so yeah, Vee is way out of your comfort zone."

Will groaned. "You just had to bring her up, didn't you."  Honey was his ex-girlfriend whom he'd cheated some time back. She was a beauty, with long locks of hair the color of her name and smelling just as sweet. Not quite so soft, as she did have a temper, but enough that she was a good balance. A woman who could comfort you as much as set you straight with a good talking-to when needed. 

But Will was a youth in his prime. And Honey's refusal to partake in any kind of "uncouth" activities was killer. He couldn't take it. 

In hindsight, it was the biggest mistake of his life yet. But he still sorta blames Damien for his shit advice when Will asked him how to handle it after getting caught red-handed.

"I can't believe you want to hold that over me when you're the one who told me to lie to her." Will had talked big about coming clean and begging for forgiveness but ended up doing the exact opposite as per Damien's counsel. 

"So? Anyone with a brain could tell I was fucking around with you. Have you no mind of your own? You should've gotten on your knees and begged her to give you another chance."

"Is that what you would've done?" Vera came back all of a sudden, questioning him.

"Of course not." He replied immediately. "After the fact, its already too late to beg. And to begin with, I won't regret a single thing when it comes to me having an affair. I would've made my choice. Regret is useless. Taking responsibility whatever the consequence is more my style. Will should've had the same resolution."

To Damien, the worst a person can do is expect to get off scot-free after a fuck-up. If you make a choice, stick with it and work through the consequences later. 

Will, he wasn't the same. He obviously regrets cheating on Honey but made no move to show that. He knew that Damien's advice was dumbfuckery at it's finest and still chose to try and make it work. 

 Well, in the end both of them were scummy people. Damien was just not ashamed to admit it. Such a thing could go a long way.

Will looked like he'd swallowed a sour grape. "I hate to say it....like, really hate it....but that does sound almost noble in a fucked up way."

"Cheating is a sin," Damien rolled his shoulders. "Regardless of circumstance. Best you can do is try and make everyone involved happy with the outcome."

Will set a pair of wide eyes at the man. "I didn't know you could be so wise, Day."

Vera took that opportunity to speak up. "Wisdom and nonsense sometimes sound similar." She turned to Will. "You shouldn't listen to him. Look what happened last time."

"Hm. True." Will gave a hollow chuckle. "Anyway, you needn't worry. I'll behave."

"Even if you don't, do you think I'm so easy as to actually fall for your amateur little tricks?" Vera raised a brow. 

Will cleared his throat. "You heard all that?"

"Indeed." 

Will smiled awkwardly and didn't know what else to say. So, he changed the subject. "You done here?"

Vera nodded. "I've restocked properly. We didn't need much anyway. Shall we continue on our way to Reykjavic, Young Master?" 

Damien shook his head. "We have to meet up with someone first."

"Who?" Vera asked. "You have those two, who else is there?"

"What, you really thought I decided to make the trip down here just for these guys?" Damien replied with a scoff. "Please. I enjoy having some guy friends around, but there's a far more important reason I needed to come. Phil should have an idea, eh?" He said before walking off.

At that, the two looked at the boy in question. He could only give a shallow little laugh. Honestly, he didn't even know how to explain it. 

***

They had made their way towards the Claybrook Estate, where they were greeted with a peculiar sight: A sizeable retinue of armed mercenaries, perhaps a company of fifty men and women camping out near the edge of the forest. Past them, the road continued on to the gate leading into the Estate itself.

When they got out of the carriage and walked straight into the encampment, Will had gripped the dagger sheathed at his side in caution. Phil noted the instant hostility in the eyes of the surrounding mercs and swallowed hard. 

They'd been camped here for some time now, these mercenaries. Usually, they never would have been allowed so near the Estate's grounds, but a messenger a day before their arrival had come to Lord Claybrook himself bearing a letter from Damien. Once the mercenaries came later on, Phil knew that this had something to do with the Young Master. 

It was the only reason such a large company of sellswords would be tolerated so close to the Estate. 

As they walked, no one barred their path but the intense, silent gazes made Phil's balls shrivel up into his throat in fear. In contrast, Damien and Vera seemed utterly undisturbed. Instead they made idle conversation until they came towards the largest of the erected tents. 

Outside of it, sitting near a fire, was a man. He had a short salt-and pepper stubble along his jaw with a small but solid build. By no means the most outstanding physique among this band of men, yet somehow the dull look in his eyes and cold, hawkish features was far more imposing than a being just a mass of muscle. 

"You're late." His voice, gruff and stern, greeted them as they neared. "It'll cost you extra."

Damien wasn't amused and was about to retort when a woman sauntered out of the tent and spoke to his defense. "He's supplied us with top-quality weaponry, armor, horses, and enough gold to pay a King's ransom," She drawled. "I think we can forgive a bit of tardiness, brother."

The newcomer was younger than the man or seemed so. She stood tall and proud, wearing a purple gambeson with steel pauldrons covering the entire shoulder and collarbone. A pair of black, padded chausses accentuated long, sensuous legs. Her hair, a luxurious black, was tied into an intricate tail that fell down towards her buttocks. It drew attention to high cheekbones and sharp, bright eyes.  

"I'm Merrin," She introduced almost jovially. "And that stick in the mud over there is my brother, Jasyn. We lead the Black Company, the band of incorrigible sellswords hired by Lord Damien here to ensure the safety of certain precious cargo."  Her easy smile and confidence were magnetic. Even Vera raised a brow at it. She had an air of quiet grace like a cat

Lani and Linia, who had been silently walking a step behind Damien and Vera up till then, saw the heroic-looking beauty and threaded their arms through Damien's. 

The woman, noticing that, chuckled. "So you picked up a cute pair of kittens since last we met, eh, my Lord? They seem quite territorial." She teased

Damien, however, was all business. "Bring it to me." 

The woman didn't take any offense at the curt tone and instead whistled. A few moments later, two men who were standing guard at the tent's entrance went inside and came out with a large, heavy-looking rectangular box. It had handles attached to the sides for ease of transport but apart from that had no discernable way to open it.

More notable, though, was the fact that it was a white color and had a similar luster to marble. Strangely, beautifully, it shone with a subtle radiance even beneath a cloudy sky like this. 

Will, Phil, Lani and Linia all looked on expectantly at what was brought out. The men laid it gently next to the woman before returning to their post. 

Merrin walked forward and ran her hand along the box almost lovingly. "Carpathian Sun-pearl." She sighed. "Such a waste."

Irritated by the remark, Damien slapped her hand off. "Just open it."

Having been chided,  the woman did as she was told. She spoke a single word that, as it was spoken, silenced the world for a brief second. After that, the walls of the rectangular box glowed with a series of strange runes and popped out. The front wall slid to the left, causing soft rays of warm light to spill out and, moments later, reveal what had been housed within. 

Will cursed. "Are you fucking kidding me?" He spat out. "The 'far more important reason' is a goddam plant?"

Damien ignored him. He was too focused on the cute little sapling in front of him. "Ah, there you are...my cute little baby.  Have you missed Papa? Papa missed you. Yes he did, yes he did~" He cooed, grabbing the willow sapling by its pot and rubbing his face along its bark.

Vera who had long since sensed the sapling's presence, felt insufferable embarrassment at his actions. 

But she played ignorant, saying, "You dragged us all the way here just for that? Really?"

Damien rounded on her. "What do you mean, just for that?" He sounded almost offended. "This is the first gift you've ever given me in my life. Of course I'm going to bring it with me."

At that, the mercenary woman chimed in. "A single square foot of Sun-pearl can fund an army a thousand strong for a year....and you use it to transport a plant." She muttered.

"Isn't that all its good for anyway?" Damien huffed. 

"It's a material that provides warmth and vitality to anyone who holds it...it literally exudes life-saving properties and can heal fatal wounds within a day of contact before running out of energy. Usually, only Royals can get their hands on even a chunk of the stuff...." Merrin's mouth twitched as she spoke, seemingly unable to comprehend the logic of a person willing to waste such precious material on some random plant. It wasn't even a rare and valuable plant, either, but a regular willow sapling. What's more, from that exchange just now it seemed like a mere housewarming gift? 

"Yeah, well, that's why I'm poor now." 

Damien's personal wealth had been unimaginable for regular Nobles. Unlike others, he rarely bought things and quietly amassed a fortune via several lucrative businesses co-owned by him and his father. 

Not to mention the numerous gifts he received from young Ladies trying to earn his favor. And the many, many winnings he had earned through gambling. To the extent that he was barred from every gambling den in the Kingdom due to his inability to lose a game.

But his assets had been frozen by his mother, so he was now a pauper. Well, for now. Money was easily gained, so he didn't worry about it much. He had spent what he needed to at the start of their journey, thinking ahead. Like Merrin and Jasyn, for example. He'd had them commissioned within days of leaving Baumeister.

To be honest, to him even the thousands of gold coins he spent on the mercenaries and hundreds of thousands he'd spent on the carrier for Vera's gift had been nothing much. 

Not that it didn't drain his bank, but that he didn't care about money much when it came to things like this.

How could he risk his gift dying? He had to provide it and it's transporters with the best of everything to ensure its safety! Vee would probably never give him anything ever again. He had to take good care of this cute little sapling and help it grow into the most majestic tree it could be. 

Thinking so, he kissed one of the leaves tenderly. "Brave girl, you must've been so lonely. Don't worry, Papa will plant you into the richest, most luxurious soil so you can grow healthy and strong."

Panicking, Vera smacked him. "Don't kiss it!"

"It's mine. You gave it to me. I'll sleep with it if I want to." He stated. 

Vera was mortified. "Pervert!" She hissed, pivoting on her heel and walking back to the carriage before he noticed her reddened ears. 

Meanwhile, the mother-daughter pair gave each other a look.

....Who knew a day would come when they would feel jealous of a plant?

Damien placed the sapling back in position where it was resealed inside the Sun-pearl box for safekeeping. 

"Alright, good job," He nodded in satisfaction as he looked between Merrin and her brother. "Tell your men to pack up and get ready to escort us."

At this command, Jasyn, who had been staring into the fire and biting into a strip of dried beef, spoke. "No," He replied simply. 

Damien paused. "No?" He asked, confused. "The fuck you mean, no?"

"We defended your cargo against eight bandit attacks while on our way here. A box that size made of Sun-pearl is big news. It leaked quickly. Good men died protecting that fucking plant of yours." He settled a blank, steely gaze upon Damien. "We are done."

Their eyes clashed for a moment or two. Damien nodded. "I understand." He replied solemnly. 

Jasyn grunted, not bothering to pay him attention any longer. 

But Damien wasn't done with him. "In that case, strip."

Everyone stood still. Silence seemed to reign, the only sound being the crack of firewood. William and Phil, intimately familiar with Damien, had a bad premonition. Will stepped up and grabbed Damien's shoulder. "Day, don't. Let's just go."

"No, let the boy talk." Jasyn stood, walking up to Damien. He was tall, the two standing nearly equal in height. "What was it you said, my Lord?" The words were low, dangerous. 

"I said," Damien began calmly, "Strip." He raised his voice. "All of you!" His words took on a harsh tone. "Take off my gear and get the fuck out of here!"

Merrin felt the air change. The band of mercenaries did not take kindly to the obvious disrespect.

"Watch your tone, boy," Jasyn ground out, barely holding himself back. "Our contract is over."

Hearing this, Vera felt a headache. She grabbed a worried Lani and Linia and whispered for them to stay close if things escalated.

Meanwhile, Will once again gripped his dagger and eyed the surrounding mercenaries. They, too, had reached for their swords. 

"I hired you to deliver my cargo to Reykjavic," Damien replied. "However many times you're attacked by bandits along the way, however many men you lose, is inconsequential. If you want to end the contract prematurely due to all the trouble, I understand. I'll allow it without complaint. But you'll be leaving naked. Of course, this includes the horses, which I also paid for."

Jasyn smiled. Slowly, he drew steel and let it hand in his hand menacingly. "You play a dangerous game here, Claybrook. I might not be willing to kill you, but I doubt your family will raise too much of a fuss with a company like ours if you lose a finger or two."

Damien just laughed. "Try it.  I'll separate your head from your torso and fuck your sister over your corpse."

Merrin, at that point, had enough. "Alright, this is ridiculous. Put your cocks away." She grabbed her brother by his collar and dragged him back. "You, behave." Her tone broke no argument. "He's right, we haven't completed our contract and I'm not willing to make an enemy of the Claybrooks just because we lost a few men. We're mercenaries. We all know the risks. More importantly, if we let it get out that we reneged on a contract just for that no one will hire us again."

The siblings locked eyes for several long seconds. Jasyn ended up sheathing his blade and returned to his seat wordlessly.  

"That said," She went on. "The men we lost were skilled warriors not easily replaced. I trust the young Lord will compensate us appropriately for their deaths?"

Damien backed down and shrugged. "You can break off a piece of Sun-pearl. I'm sure it'll more than make up for your loss." 

Merrin smiled. "All is settled then." She raised her voice. "Clean up, men! Be ready to depart within the hour! We leave for Reykjavic. I do hear it's lovely this time of year."