The carriage jostled from hitting a crack, a stray rock, or some other flaw in the road; I couldn’t stop myself from wincing. I didn’t have any wounds or bruises. Anymore. But the memory of them still haunted my body. One week. I’d been training with Orsa and the others for one week. My lessons with Filippa had stopped entirely, so my mornings and afternoons were filled with cuts and punctures. No scars to show for it though. Between my regeneration spell and Chiara’s minor healing spell, my skin was as good as new. Well, as good as it was before I started. I still had scars from my adventuring career, short-lived as it was.
I didn’t know how men with scars were perceived down here on the surface. In Doranna, and presumably the other sky cities, it was just a fact of life as an adventurer. Sure, there were people attracted to that just like there were people attracted to the women adventurers with scars. There’s not really adventurers, per se, down here on the surface so it was hard to guess. Judging by Chiara’s satisfied smile after each healing session, though, it likely meant that scars on men weren’t particularly attractive. It was a moot point, regardless. I only had one scar that was visible past my clothes, and that was on my palm. It was small and easily overlooked. I even forgot about it most days.
The carriage jostled again prompting me to wince again. I clicked my tongue at my reaction to it. It was just phantom pain. Of course, my reaction didn’t go unnoticed under the watchful eyes of my guards.
“What’s wrong, cucciolo? Feeling a little sore?” asked Orsa, signature smirk gracing her lips.
“You should know. You wore me out so thoroughly yesterday that I thought I’d have trouble walking.” I replied and gave her a wink. Orsa recoiled slightly and turned about three different shades of red in rapid succession, each deeper than the one before it. The other two girls, Chiara and Lauretta, laughed at her. My training had brought with it a couple of changes.
The first, and most obvious one, was the lack of Fiametta. She had entered her own secluded training, and while she would have come out with me today, I didn’t want to disturb her. Instead, my rapier trainers all drew lots to see who would be coming out with Orsa, Chiara, and me. Lauretta won, though I don’t know why the winner is the one that came and not the loser. Sure, I understand that they wanted to be around me, but I was dreading this meeting. I could only imagine it was going to be even more boring for them. Maybe it’s just because it was a change in their usual day to day. Now that I thought about it, I had no idea what their daily responsibilities were.
The second change was in myself. Ippolita perhaps undersold just how much my mind would be affected by running the Mental Acuity enhancement spell for 12 hours a day. It wasn’t something harmful, necessarily. I wasn’t losing my grip on time or on reality, but my mind was processing things at such an accelerated rate that I was starting to feel robbed of my own grief and adjustment period. That of course felt silly when I analyzed it deeper. It’s not as if I wasn’t thinking about those things. I kept the spell running while we were on breaks or while I was being healed—like the particularly long healing session after my first spar with Ginevra on the first day. She had been eager, though eager for what I didn’t really know. She had flourished her rapier around mine and then thrust past my guard. She managed to change the angle of her thrust in time to miss my heart, but by doing so she scored a deep gash that practically opened up my entire left side for all the world to see my organs.
There had been a lot of blood from that, and if it weren’t for Ippolita’s mana clamping down on my body to keep everything inside of it and functioning as normal, I probably would have died. We all knew it was an accident, but for me it was a very, very bloody reminder that these duels, even if they weren’t to the death, were not games. Our lives were on the line; it only took one incident like this to potentially kill someone. Ippolita’s mana had assisted Chiara in closing my wound and fully healing me, but it wasn’t immediate. The girls had also given me space afterwards while Orsa had given Ginevra a dressing down for being too aggressive. It had given me time to reflect on everything. The duels themselves, of course, but also the society in which such a thing was common and my future in it—and of course reflecting on Stephanie.
Grief was a strange thing. It wasn’t something you could force yourself to get over, though you could certainly try. I likened it to a wheel. The wheel turned and when a particular spot on that wheel was on the top half that was exposed to the sky, the grief was strong. When it reached the zenith of its rotation, it was the most intense it could be. Then gradually, as the wheel turned the grief would lessen and pass, but the wheel kept turning. Eventually, that spot representing the grief would be exposed again, and those intense feelings would eventually come back with it as well. But every revolution of the wheel wore that spot down more and more until one day it was gone and you were just left with the memory of the blemish on the wheel.
Over the past week with the Mental Acuity enhancement active for more than half of my waking hours, that wheel was turning faster and faster. There were times during the training we had to stop so I could take a walk because the grief would manifest in rage and I wanted to lash out at the girls for barely being able to score a fucking point, at the nobles for the stupid asinine games, at Vittoria for turning my love into an abomination, at Ippolita for not letting me have my revenge and the intensity of our nightly mana trainings, at Stephanie for leaving me. At myself. For everything. But the wheel would continue to turn and just as quickly as the outbursts would come, I’d be able to settle back down and focus on the training again.
Even now, I had the enhancement active. Partly out of habit, but also because Ippolita suggested it would be best if I continued running it since I’d be going into the political lion’s den. It was considered rude to use this spell when meeting with others, but Ippolita said I would need it, especially with today being my first time and because it was with one of the ducal houses. She would be masking my use of the spell, though, so I didn’t have to worry about any potential faux pas.
“Are you nervous, Jack?” asked Lauretta, concern showed in her eyes—eyes that still reminded me of the burning coals of a fire that would warm you on cold nights.
It had taken some doing, but I had gotten the new girls to drop the formalities when addressing. Well, except for Ginevra and Maddie. Maddie had called me “caro” from the beginning, which I knew was a pet name, but I didn’t know its meaning. Ginevra, however, had lost most of her playfulness since that first incident. I preferred this to being called guerrierino. I didn’t know what that meant, but I knew it was condescending. Instead, it was SIgnore this, Signor Wright that. She’d loosen back up eventually. She wasn’t a bad sort, I learned. She just had very strong, and very wrong, opinions about men and weapons, even the nobles and duels. I suspect she was assigned as one of my trainers for both my sake and hers. Mine to get me used to women looking down on me, and hers to rehabilitate her of such a shitty opinion.
I rubbed my brow and brought my fingers down into a pinch at the bridge of my nose before letting go. One drawback, I guess, to the Mental Acuity enhancement was just how much my mind wandered in the middle of conversations.
“Yes. Very.” I cleared my throat. “In Doranna, the highest person socially that I ever interacted with was a Green, or F note, adventurer, which I’m yellow now, so it’s not like the disparity would even be that different. Yet since coming here, I’m surrounded by minor nobility,” I said and gestured at the three Damas in the carriage with me. “And of course dining with a princess, er, principessa, on a nightly basis.”
Lauretta’s eyes widened slightly. “You take all of your evening meals with her majesty?”
I furrowed my brows slightly, “Yes, is that strange? I mean, it hasn’t been all of them. I don’t think. Definitely the vast majority, though.”
Lauretta, blushing, turned quickly to look at Orsa who just smirked and winked at her. I squinted at both of them, clearly missing something.
“Nothing unbecoming happens at these dinners, Lauretta,” I said slowly.
“Of course not, Jack. I didn’t mean to imply that such impropriety was happening,” she said and gave me a reassuring smile, or what she thought was reassuring. I, however, still had my suspicions that I was missing something. I shook my head dismissing the thought. If it were important, then someone would tell me eventually.
“So yes, I’m nervous, even though I’ve gotten accustomed to her majesty and all of you. This is still so far beyond me. I feel very out of my depth,” I said turning my head to look out the window at all of the foot traffic we were going past. “It’s more than just the social differences, though. It’s the politics of it all. I’m untrained at this and there wasn’t enough time to even give me much of a brief on the ducal family, the…”
“House dall’Amita. Don’t worry too much. Her Majesty started you off with an easy house. Historically, they’ve been her majesty’s staunchest allies in court,” said Chiara.
I hummed a noncommittal noise. It was easy for them to say ‘don’t worry’. They weren’t some random peasant from the sky wearing clothes above his station, meeting people high enough in the social strata to spit on him and be thanked for it, and then have to bargain for some political alliance where he was selling slots in a fertility ritual! Remembering the fertility ritual brought me up short and made me blush hotly. They were staring at my face, I was sure, but the carriage slowed to a stop.
“Ah, we’ve arrived,” said Chiara.
“Relax, cucciolo. We’ll be with you the whole way,” said Orsa as she got out of the carriage. Lauretta gave me another warm smile as she exited, then I followed soon after taking her hand to help me down—even if I didn’t need it. Then Chiara came out after me. The carriage had pulled us into a courtyard in front of a manor. Outside waiting for us was an honor guard of 4 knights and a maid that I presumed to be the head maid. She was a werewolf, or wolf therianthrope—-I was still struggling with what they wanted to be called. In any case, she had large furry black ears sitting on top of her black hair with gray highlights. I caught a black tail lazily wagging back and forth behind her. Her outfit was similar to Filippa’s: black and white colors dominating her kirtle, chemise, apron, and bodice.
“Welcome Damas of the Principessa and Signore Jack Wright to Villa dall’Amita. We are happy to host you. I am Giulia, the head maid. The Duchessa, her husband, and her eldest daughter are waiting for you in the parlor.”
“Waiting? My apologies, signora, we—” I started.
“No, no! No apology necessary, Signore Wright. You have nothing to apologize for.”
Once we made our way up the steps and the head maid was able to speak without having to raise her voice, she stage-whispered to us, “They are waiting because they are eager, and werefoxes are not known for patience.” She laughed to herself and turned to lead us into the manor. Or villa.
Their manor had similar architectural style as Ippolita’s, which made sense since the ducal family was one of the oldest families of the city, and so were their holdings. The honor guard bracketed around my escort of Chiara, Lauretta, and Orsa but gave us plenty of space. Giulia led us on a direct path to the parlor, making only one turn before arriving at wooden double doors. She knocked twice to announce us, then pushed both open to reveal a large sitting room with 4 plush sofas. The Duchessa and her husband sat on one, while their daughter sat on another next to it. All eyes were glued to me. I did my best not to let my nerves show, but in this moment the Mental Acuity enhancement only served to intensify how anxious I was.
Giulia went in the room first, then stopped and stepped next to the door and gestured for us to enter. I took a deep breath and slowly exhaled then followed Orsa in. My escort remained the very definition of vigilant. Even here, in the home of Ippolita’s greatest ally, under her own watchful eyes, the girls were taking in every face, every detail of the room at a rapid pace. They were also using the Mental Acuity enhancement, as well as the strength and speed ones. They had been ever since we left Ippolita’s estate. Orsa looked back at me and gave me a shallow nod, which I took as permission to step past her and take a seat on the sofa across from the Duchessa and her husband. When I approached they all stood.
The duchessa was a lively looking werefox vampire. She had silver hair, most of which was done up in braided tresses. They were gathered in the back in a kind of ponytail of braids. Despite the voluminous dress the woman was wearing, she was obviously a warrior. It was in both her bearing and the scant amount of muscles that her dress revealed. Her dress, to wit, was a conservative affair compared to some of the dresses Ippolita liked to wear. It was predominantly turquoise with silver trim. There was no cleavage on display, but her bust was heavy and the fabric strained against them. She had Lauretta’s height, but was decidedly curvier than her. She kept her mana contained, but I could still sense the mana that coalesced around her. She was Indigo, or an A note using the surface’s power scale. This put her a step above Fiametta, the same step Fiametta was currently trying to take.
Her husband was a lithe dhampir. He was an inch taller than me, perhaps, but had a smaller frame. He, too, was a warrior in his own way, though definitely one of reserved refinement. He reminded me a bit of some of the more agile and dextrous adventurers that preferred dual short swords or a sword and buckler that would allow them to wear lighter armor for higher mobility. He was wearing a gray or silver doublet with navy blue trim and breaches to match. His brown leather boots looked broken in, but not worn. They were probably the boots he used in the practice yard, but kept immaculate care of. He had short cropped black hair and pointed ears. The smile he was wearing was warm and genuine. He, too, kept his mana contained, but I could tell he was Green, or F note, one step above me.
Their daughter stood apart from them slightly. She was very much a younger version of her mother, though there were differences. For starters, she lacked her mother’s warrior bearing. Whether that was because she chose different pursuits or simply hadn’t had the time to invest in it, I didn’t know. She wore a very poofy powder blue dress with navy and silver trimmings. The dress left her shoulders bare and showcased her generous cleavage that she definitely inherited from her mother. She also inherited her mother’s silver hair and fox ears. Rather than being done up in tresses and gathered in the back, she instead had her hair up in some elaborate style that showed off its volume while also allowing some curls to fall down to her shoulders. Just like her mother and father, she kept her mana contained, but she was the same cultivation level as her father. Unlike her mother and father, she was wearing jewelry. Tanzanite earrings and a matching necklace that dipped into the valley of her breasts. She smiled slightly when she caught my eyes following the path of the gemstone.
The duchessa spoke first, “Signore Jack Wright, it is a pleasure to finally lay eyes on you and put a face to the courtly gossip. I am Veronica dall’Amita, one of her majesty’s three duchessas.” I extended my hand, expecting a customary clasp of arms, only to be surprised when she grabbed my palm and brought the outside of my fingers gently to her face for a quick brush of her lips. I couldn’t stop the surprise furrow of my brow, but quickly smoothed out my face. She let go of my hand and gestured to the man next to her. “This is my husband, Eugenius dell’Amita.” I extended my arm again to him out of reflex, and a lightbulb seemed to go off in his head. He reached out and grasped my forearm so I could grasp his and we shook once, firmly. We both let go, and he had a bright expression as if he’d won a prize. “And this,” continued the duchessa, gesturing to her daughter,” is my eldest daughter, “Cristina dall’Amita.”
I extended my hand again, but when she went to pull my hand forward like her mother, I bent forward at my hips, which caused her to arrest her movement in shock. Then I pulled her hand to my face and kissed the backs of her fingers instead. When I stood back up, she was blushing furiously, and both of her parents had undisguised looks of shock. I gave them a mischievous smirk.
“The sky cities are patriarchal. It’s the reverse of how it is down here. Your greeting caught me by surprise, your grace, so I thought to return the favor to your daughter.”
The duchessa laughed heartily. “Oh my, I never knew.” She moved to sit down, and the rest of us followed her lead. My guards stood behind my sofa.
“So if it’s the reverse of here,” began her husband, “Do you have princes?”
“Maybe. My city didn’t have one. We were part of an empire, so I suspect the emperor’s children were princes and princesses. My city had a duke that represented the emperor’s will and a governor that handled the day to day administration of the city. “
“Fascinating. What were the gatherings like?” he asked.
“Oh, I…” I cleared my throat, “to be honest with you, I’m a peasant. An orphan as well. I can’t speak to any social gatherings of the nobility. I could tell you about the adventurer’s bars and taverns, even a few drunken brawls I’ve witnessed if you’d like, though.” I tried to fix a smile on my face, but I felt extremely awkward and out of my depth.
Cristina laughed, though I could tell it wasn’t at me but just at my words. “I would definitely be interested in hearing about bar fights between adventurers,” she said, returning my mischievous grin from earlier.
I scratched the back of my neck, desperately searching for words.
“It’s alright, Signor Wright. You may not have been a noble in your city, but down here on the surface, you are something far more valuable, and even if you weren’t, house dall’Amita would never hold it against you. My mother, grandmother, and great grandmother would all be rushing to get in line to beat sense into me if we did that.”
I looked at Duchessa Veronica slightly askance.
“I know that just sounds like words, but our house has long been allies of her majesty, and as such we espouse a lot of her ideals. We nobles exist at the pleasure of the commoners, not the other way around despite what many houses seem to believe.”
“Indeed, and her majesty sent word ahead of what it was you’d like to discuss with us,” said the Duca.
“With that in mind, we’d like to learn more about you. You said you were Orphan? Did you know your parents?” asked Veronica.
Before I could answer, there was a knock at the doors to the hall.
“Oh, that must be Giulia with the refreshments.” As soon as the words left her mouth, the door opened revealing Giulia pushing one cart into the parlor. Behind her came another two maids pushing carts. The three of them wheeled the carts close to the sofas, and began unloading items onto the large table in the center. Giulia placed down a tea set, distributing four cups and saucers with a spoon in front of each of us. Meanwhile, the other two maids placed several trays of finger foods, most of which seemed to be sweets.
“Do you have a preference on the kind of tea, Signor Wright?” asked the duchessa.
“No, your grace. I’ll defer to your expertise and palate.”
“Such a charmer,” said the duchessa. I didn’t really know what was charming about what I said, but I would take the easy win.
As the tea was steeping, I decided to answer Veronica’s question.
“You asked after my parents, your grace. I did know them for a brief period. They died during a dungeon dive when I was 7. Old enough to still remember their faces, vaguely, and their names, but young enough for it to merely be a flash in a hot pan.”
When I had said how old I was when I was orphaned the duca inhaled sharply while the duchessa and her daughter both had looks of sympathy.
“So young,” Eugenius said.
“It was. Growing up in the orphanage was…” I trailed off, trying to think of the most diplomatic way to say “hellish”.
I was given an extra moment to think as Cristina leaned forward to start tea service. She poured her mother a cup first, then her father, me, and lastly herself. At least she started to, but I raised my hand to stop her. I leaned forward and motioned for her to hand me the kettle. I took it with both hands, and poured her a cup and set the kettle back down. I realized I had everyone in the room’s attention.
“Stephanie, my fiancee, had this thing when we had our other party members over before…” I cleared my throat. “She believed that you didn’t pour your own cup, even as the host, or hostess. Instead, to foster the feeling of fellowship and community, you always had to be poured by someone else. She told me it was cheating if I poured for her since we lived together, so usually, she would pour Bill and Claudia’s ales, and then Claudia would pour for Stephanie and me.” I gave them a small smile.
“I can tell you about the orphanage, about how I had one set of clothing that I had to mend and wash myself. How during my growth spurt it was only replaced once a year. I could tell you about how I shared a room with 25 other boys and how I considered myself lucky that the only bugs in my bed were ones I could see easily. I could tell you about how they kicked us out when we were 14 and told to fend for ourselves. How I chose to be an adventurer like my parents not because of wanting to follow in their footsteps or because I craved the adventure of it all, but because that was the quickest way to get food in my belly. There’s a lot of awful things that the peasantry endured because that’s just how it was in the sky cities, especially for orphans. Or, I could tell you about things like the pouring service.” I paused to take a sip of my tea.
“It’s good tea, your grace. Thank you.” I took another sip.
“I think,” said Cristina, hesitating for a moment to look at her parents and then back to me. “We would like to hear about the good things. About your Stephanie. Your friends. My mother might scold me later for saying this, but you already had our support, Signor Wright. We really, I really just wanted to get to know you. The real you that won’t be on display at the balls or whatever vapid social gatherings this noble or that likes to throw together.”
“Of course,” I said, warmly and gave her a smile. “To start, what do you know about meat pies?”
“Meat pies?!” Eugenius asked, recoiling slightly.
“Oh yes, your grace. Meat pies. I’ve not found them down here, yet, but mark my words. I will. Or I’ll convince someone to make them!” And so I told them about Doranna’s street food, the stalls and shops. The fun I had with Stephanie, Bill, and Claudia going to these places during our down time. I, of course, made sure to sprinkle in a couple of stories about my adventures.
Cristina and Veronica were both particularly interested in the dungeons and larger subjugation missions that would take place on rogue islands. Eugenius, meanwhile, was interested in the various schools of swordplay that Doranna espoused with the different weapons. Which is to say that almost all of the sword fighting taught in Fortenna assumed you’d be fighting against a humanoid roughly your size. Doranna’s schools of any-weapon fighting assumed you’d be fighting far more monstrous things than just humanoids. I spent a few hours with them, and it was… nice. They were nice. I didn’t realize how much I would enjoy meeting new people, though I had my doubts that that feeling would last by the time the ball rolled around. But I left their villa with a new ally, and an agreement to give their house 3 slots in both of the fertility rituals I’d be participating in this year. They could use those slots themselves or give them to their subordinating families. I left the decision up to them.
Cristina dall'Amita with refreshments.