Eliza
October 14, 1786, Realm Timeline, Pressburg/Bratislava, The Slovakian Protectorate
There was an alarm watch on the nightstand, and Eliza had set it for seven in the morning. It felt like she barely closed her eyes, and it rang a second later. The backlash of the night had made her sleep like a log. After a short shower, she exited her room and tripped over Tristan.
"What the bleep are you doing here?" she yelled.
"Milady!" the young man blurted, jumping up. She diverted her eyes. His torso was still naked, and the boy's muscles were perfectly defined.
"I asked what you are doing here."
"I didn't manage to find the barracks, and I returned to the inn, my liege."
"Why did you sleep on the doormat? Why not the bench?" she pointed at the hotel furniture nearby.
"I... had an urge to protect your ladyship and make sure no one tries to sneak into the room to harm you," the young man lowered his eyes. "It was a very strong urge," he insisted.
"The Vampiric Bond," Eliza muttered under her breath. "It was theorized. Why the heck is it not showing in the skills, though?"
"I beg your pardon?"
"You use too many words. Instead of I beg your pardon, say sorry, or what? Time is money."
"Sorry?" Tristan raised his brows.
"That's better. Come with me," Eliza beckoned.
She turned and walked down the corridor, with Tristan following in small, hurried steps to match hers, clinging next to Eliza like a disoriented puppy.
"Have you slept well, Your Excellency?" the hotel owner greeted her in the lobby, rubbing his hands. He winked after staring at Tristan, which made Eliza blush.
"Like a log," Eliza said, looking around. Through the glass doors leading to the restaurant, she counted only two couples and a merchant, all Outworlders. The modern hotel had failed yet to attract local clientele.
"You have a message," the man said, offering Eliza a note.
It was from Sam.
'Open your phone, ' the note started. 'I sent you ten SMSs for nothing. A joint Austrian-Outworlder team investigated the premises. We got authorization to move them by armored car to speed things up. Here are the preliminary conclusions:
Count Futak was indeed involved. He suicided.
How the attack was planned is unknown. Renegade involvement is suspected. No bugs were found.
The rest of the serfs were killed by the attackers to leave no witnesses. Poison in the food. The girl and her kid are the only survivors. Lucky them.
The guests were escorted back to Vienna. I'll take the Emperor there myself, in a few days.
I got our luggage back. Yours is at the guild.
Please check on the Empress. It will make more sense for a woman to do it than for me.
Take care. Sam.'
About half the topics were anything but preliminary conclusions, but Eliza knew Sam's chaotic thinking too well to be upset.
"Bad news?" Tristan asked, noticing her grimace.
"In part. Most of it was things we already know. Those bastards poisoned all the serfs to ensure no one talks..."
"Ugh," the young man shivered. "And those damned rebels pretend they have the serfs' rights at heart!"
"They also think sacrificing the few for the sake of the many is acceptable," Eliza said, omitting to add that those were new ideas the Outworlders brought from Earth.
"Do you agree?"
"Do I look like I agree?" she hissed. "Am I smiling with satisfaction because innocent people were killed by some nutjobs?"
"I'm sorry, milady," Tristan bowed his head. "It is more than clear that you are a good person."
"Are you hungry?" she asked him.
"A bit?"
"We'll eat later," Eliza said. Going into a restaurant with a half-naked young man in tow was sure to attract gossip.
When they left the hotel and stepped onto the streets, the young man's reaction was one of surprise, and Eliza enjoyed it because she could gloat over the benefits Outworlders brought.
Stolen story; please report.
They had arrived at night, and the trams were not running, nor were the shops open. Pressburg, the Austrian name, or Bratislava, the modern one adopted when the Outworlders took over that part of the land, had been modified in line with modern concepts. Some neighborhoods were reconstructed, plumbing and piping installed, running water was the new normal, and even electric lights installed. It was the most modern of the four big cities the Outworlders controlled, the rest being Brno, Prague, and Krakow.
The hospital was nearby, and she made Tristan walk twenty feet behind her, because his half-nakedness was weird and the hotel owner's reaction was all Eliza felt she could cope with that day. Leaving him in the waiting room, Eliza went into the maternity ward. The Empress was doing fine, and still asleep, while the Emperor was chatting with a nurse, staring, mesmerized, at an ultrasound of their baby boy.
"Can we stay here until she gives birth?" the Emperor asked, looking at her with hope.
"It's not for me to decide, but I doubt that the Council will think it's appropriate, considering we're still officially at war."
"And if I declare I change the Armistice into a peace treaty?"
"On the other hand, I'm sure the Empress is welcome to stay," Eliza said, trying to keep her voice cold, even though she empathized with the couple.
"I understand," the man sighed.
"You can visit her. That would be appropriate," Eliza suggested, then turning toward the doctor. "How's the girl with the toddler?"
"You'll have to ask at the reception; they're not on my ward."
"I'll do just that. Your Majesties," Eliza curtsied on a whim, and exited.
In the children's wing, she found out the toddler had been given antibiotics, and both the girl and the young mother were fine. A nurse brought the Vlach witch, who was elated. The serf was now a free person, as no form of slavery was allowed in the Outworlders' protectorates. Eliza filled out a declaration for her because the girl couldn't read or write. Seeing the relief on the girl's face was rewarding, warming Eliza's heart.
The next step would have been to file her official report with the Council, but since she had Tristan with her, Eliza realized she had to bring him up to speed. At least, when she returned to the lobby, he was dressed in a comfy medical gown, gifted by one of the younger nurses, who had also slipped him her phone number. Not that the young man knew what that was.
"Let's have a coffee and some cake," Eliza decided. "I know a good place. The best in town."
Tristan waved his hands, looking panicked. "My liege, I wouldn't dare. It's improper to eat or drink alongside a married woman, with no third party present, preferably an older woman related to you. It's called a chaperone," he added with the tone he was teaching her important knowledge.
"It's an order," she snapped.
He followed, eyes to the ground, three steps behind. After they arrived at the place and ordered the cake du jour, Eliza focused on the coffee and sweets for a while because she had skipped breakfast. Like to annoy her on purpose, Sam arrived with Penelope, his new partner. They waved at them, then sat in the farthest corner, and, minding their own business, had pancakes and tea. Tristan couldn't help himself and peeked at the couple every few seconds.
"Is she his sister?" he asked in a whisper.
"No!" Eliza snapped.
"Ah... I see..." Tristan almost touched her hand in a comforting pat, but refrained at the last moment. "I wondered why he didn't sleep in the same room as you..."
"They stay in the Bounty Hunters guild. She's the Guildmaster."
"I'm sorry."
"It's okay," Eliza sighed, trying not to think about the small pang of pain in her soul.
"I beg your pardon?"
"You're supposed to say: what? Less time-consuming, remember?"
"What is an Oh, Key?"
"Ah, that... It means all right. Back on Earth, Sam and I were best friends."
"Is it usual for men to be... just friends with—"
"Yes! It's called friendship."
"I know friends mean," Tristan sulked, crossing his arms.
"We spent a lot of time together and thought we could be more."
"Pitying you?"
"I had a very rare disease that was weakening my body."
"Like a curse?"
"I suppose. My mother had it too. She developed it in her late forties, and it killed her."
"My condolences."
"I did a test and discovered I inherited it. When Sam was invited here, I came with him, hoping to—"she sighed"—be cured."
"Were you?"
"Somehow... My condition stabilized. Mana is not a cure-all. Statistically, only about one percent of people have better chances of being healed here than on Earth. There were tests."
"Did he leave you after you got better?" Tristan asked, and Eliza flinched because his question hurt. She often asked herself if Sam married her out of pity, and once she wasn't pitiful anymore, had sailed to wider shores. By that she was metaphorizing Penny's broad hips.
"Not immediately. Then, just after the second war, Sam met... her," Eliza sneered. "They clicked together like they were born for each other."
"Once married, a man should devote himself to his wife," Tristan persisted. "She's among the most gorgeous women I've ever laid eyes upon, but duty should prevail over... err... mere appearances."
That thick cow, gorgeous? Didn't see that coming... Eliza gasped on the inside. Whatever, she shook her head. And why am I talking so much about my personal life? C'mon, Eliza, get a grip.
"It is what it is. If he's happy, that's fine with me," she cooled down her tone.
"Nevertheless, you should ask for a separation and half his wealth," Tristan said.
Eliza bit her lower lip, trying not to laugh. There were a lot of bad novels from Earth running wild, and it seemed the boy had read at least one.
"We didn't even think about it. Just went our separate ways. Paperwork from Earth is worthless here. Okay... It's time to talk System... I mean powers."
"The ones you bestowed upon me?"
"Indeed, knight of the Austriae, I was discoursing about the powers I bestowed upon thee," Eliza's tongue slipped, throwing sarcasm at the young man, and regretting it immediately. "Sorry, that was unrequited. Before we address this, you have to understand the broader context. Do you want the long or the short version?"
"Whatever thou thinkest it's best for my humble undeveloped mind, Milady," the knight said.
So the boy has some sarcasm of his own... Well, at least he's not the usual Realm bumpkin.
"Fine. I'll try to keep the middle ground, and you'd better pay attention... Do you want another coffee?"
"No, milady, I'm... Oh, Key. You don't need to spoil me."
"Another round of coffees. Put it on my tab. And bring the boy a sandwich or something," Eliza raised her voice. "Don't worry, coffee is not as expensive for us as it is for you. We've brought some from Earth and grow it in greenhouses."
"That's your Realm, right?"
"Yep," Eliza nodded, sipping from her coffee. "It's identical to yours... Somehow."
"But—"
"Just listen patiently, and you'll understand. It's story time," Eliza said, taking a straight and imposing posture, showing her best profile.