Eat, Slay, Love: A LitRPG/GameLit Adventure (The Good Guys Book 10)

by Eric Ugland

  “Monsters?” I asked. “I guess it depends on what you mean.”

  “We have seen plenty,” Eliza countered. “And duke Coggeshall has slain most of them.”

  “I wouldn’t say I’ve slain—”

  “There are a few trophies in the great hall,” Eliza said, seemingly happy to provide cheerleading for me when I was unwilling to do it myself. “Trolls attacked us our first week here, and Montana killed them all.”

  “By himself?”

  “It wasn’t by myself,” I tried to say.

  “By himself,” Eliza corrected.

  “Okay,” I said, “that’s not true.”

  “What about the worm?” Eliza asked. “You killed that by yourself.”

  “I suppose, yes. Wait, worm or wyrm?”

  There were a few laughs.

  “Have you fought both, Montana?” asked Duke Ginsburg, smiling at using my first name.

  “I have,” I said. “More than I would like.”

  “I am impressed you came away unscathed.”

  “There was plenty of scathing,” I replied. “We are blessed with talented healers here.”

  “The guards wear armor made from the wyrm he slew,” Eliza said, pointing to the two guards at the door. They were, in fact, wearing wyrm-leather cuirasses. It looked good, the green matching well with the pops of black and white.

  “How many sets did you manage to make out of its hide?” Ginsburg asked.

  “You know, I’m not sure,” I said.

  “Enough to outfit the entire Coggeshall guard,” Eliza said, barely hiding her smile.

  The mood at the table seemed to shift. Like the nobles had been thinking of me one way, and now were seeing more the real me. Maybe they thought I was just a muscle-bound idiot without the ability to cash my pecs’ checks.

  “He has more than earned the Hero of Osterstadt title,” the mystery man at the table said. Well, he was a mystery to me. Everyone else seemed to know him. “I saw several of his battles on the wall, and his actions were nothing short of legend. Even now, as the rest of the Empire is banished from Osterstadt, it is said the people still speak of Duke Coggeshall in hushed tones.”

  “I did hope to gaze upon the Emerald Sea myself on this journey here,” Ginsburg said. “Pity I might not get a chance.”

  “You still can,” I said before I could stop myself. No one outside Coggeshall knew we had access to the Sea. Was I really going to give that secret up?

  “Oh?” Ginsburg said. “Do tell, I would give most anything for that pleasure.”

  “Would you fly aboard a Roc?” Eliza asked, saving me.

  “Fly?” Ginsburg asked, his face going more than a little ashen. “On a roc?”

  “Fritz,” I said with a smile. “His name is Fritz.”

  42

  I wanted to go right then, but dessert rolled out. Very intricate displays were delivered to each table, with fantastical designs on top, all variations on the same theme: devils. Fiends’ Night cakes and candies.

  I think we got the best ones, because after looking around, I realized some desserts were more like jellies, or candied fruit smushed into forms. I preferred cake. Or ice cream.

  Everyone took a moment to oooh and ahh over the desserts, and then we ate them. They were beautiful, and mostly delicious. I restrained myself to a single piece, because I’m generous like that. I noticed the others at my table were not so cautious, digging into the cake with toddler-like abandon. Just a little less messy. Which surprised me, because I hadn’t noticed that sort of behavior before.

  “Will you join us for brandy?” Duke Ginsburg asked, dabbing at the frosting around his mouth.

  “For shame, your grace,” Maguerite said. “How dare you try to take the good duke away when so many are expecting a dance with him?”

  “Me, dance?” I asked. “Wait, I’m dancing?”

  I shot a look over at Eliza for help.

  She just smiled and winked.

  And so dancing it was...

  43

  There was a brief reprieve as the band had to shift with us, and we all moved over to a large open room. It was obvious it had been recently cleared. The room was just a big rectangle with a lone distinguishing feature: doors and windows along one side that led to a balcony. That made sense; it’d be nice to have a way to cool off during the ball. Also meant we could vent the collected body heat out instead of back into the rest of MountainHome. I remembered overhearing Lee and Harmut having an involved conversation about air flow, and temperature had been a major sticking point in the bigger rooms.

  “Why do we have so many big open rooms?” I whispered to Eliza.

  “Because they are easy to make,” she whispered back. “Harder to make a bunch of apartments.”

  I sighed.

  Seemed silly. Right, but silly. After this stupid holiday, or whatever you wanted to consider Fiends’ Night, we would be overflowing with ballrooms. Perfect for a frontier town that had reason to throw exactly zero balls. Brilliant thinking by the idiots who ran Coggeshall. Or, you know, the idiot who ran Coggeshall. By which I meant myself. The buck stopped with me, and I’d somehow okayed all this nonsense.

  Still, the young folk seemed happy, and it was nice to see so many smiling faces.

  The band reassembled and had even grown a little. They played a merry tune at a substantially louder volume than in the dining room. A long table with drinks and snacks lined one wall, staffed by hard-looking older women who were already giving over eager revelers the stink-eye. Seemed inevitable I’d be getting a talking-to from them more than once.

  I managed to sidle out of the way of the first dance, making my way to the table and grabbing a small cup of repulsively sweet red punch.

  “You think it is so sweet so we will not spend our time drinking it?” the young man to my right asked.

  I grimaced while swallowing the punch.

  “Might be a grain of truth to that,” I said.

  He smiled.

  “I am heir to Count Lousanne. Lathrop Lousanne.”

  “Duke of Coggeshall.”

  “I am aware, your grace. You were my rescuer from Osterstadt. I thank you.”

  “You’re welcome,” I said.

  “Do you suppose you could teach me to fight as you do?”

  “You don’t want to fight as I do,” I said. “Probably far better to squire up with someone who’s got actual skills.”

  “I have seen you battle, your grace. I saw your fight against the two-headed eborja. What you did was—”

  “Incredibly lucky,” I said. “It’s a miracle I made it out of that.”

  “Still, there is a basis of skill involved.”

  “Are you sticking around Coggeshall?”

  “My father is certainly considering it.”

  “If you do, I can hook you up with the man who taught me. Though to warn you: he’s, well, calling Carpophorus brutal is an understatement.”

  “I have had rough instructors in the past, your grace.”

  “Don’t say I didn’t warn you.”

  “I heed your warning, my lord,” he said with a smile.

  “Ah, Duke of Coggeshall,” came a cocksure voice that I knew immediately.

  I looked over my shoulder to see Fuckface McTraitor Northwoods closing in on me.

  “So nice to see you again,” I said. “Try the red stuff; it’s delicious.”

  I handed him a cup of the red death.

  He took it, a fake smile on his face, and drank deeply. He sputtered and really tried hard to keep his smile on as he swallowed the stuff.

  “Indeed, your grace,” he said tightly.

  More young men made their way over to me and my buddy Lathrop.

  “I have heard tales of your battles,” Fuckface McTraitor Northwoods said. “How many are true?”

  “Probably none,” I said.

  Mutters from the peanut gallery.

  “Can’t trust anyone to tell the truth these days,” I said. “Right?”
>
  “He is teasing us,” Lathrop countered. “I have seen him in action.”

  “As have I,” the Northwoods boy said. “I admit to being unimpressed.”

  “You know, me too,” I said. Then I looked at my hand, making sure I was also flexing to really get my muscles out there. “I’ve really got to work on my backhand.”

  Fuckface McTraitor Northwoods glared at me, but also took a step back out of my slap range. Not that I would have slapped him. Not there. Probably.

  “Brother,” Eliza said, pushing through the boys, “I would appreciate it if you stopped commandeering the duke’s time. He is supposed to be dancing with the ladies present, not telling you all stories of gruesome battle. Which are all true, by the by. Most of the time, he won’t even let us speak of them. How naughty is that? Humility has no place amongst dukes.”

  She took my hand and pulled me out of the throng onto the dance floor.

  It wasn’t easy following her, since I didn’t know the dance. I’m not against dancing, I mean, not in principle. At the behest of, well, the girl, I took ballroom dancing classes, and we went dancing fairly often. I liked it, but mostly because I had some idea what I was doing.

  This was a lot like the first days in Vuldranni when I was fully clueless, so I didn’t like it.

  There was a mixture of couple’s dancing and group dancing, nearly an even split. It seemed like the group dancing was mostly a way of allowing different pairings to happen, giving people an out. I saw it in practice a few times, where a girl would switch partners to get away from a grabby guy, or even a guy getting away from a grabby girl. Worked both ways.

  Group dances moved quickly, and reminded me of square dances I’d seen in westerns. The couple’s dances were like waltzes, but more, I guess, primitive. Like people here just hadn’t figured out the waltz yet. Or, rather, maybe they had and were already past the waltz. Which would be a shame, because I always enjoyed floating around like that. If you ever bring that up in public, I will deny it and punch you. Or at least, that’s what I would have done in my prior world.

  After a few rounds, when I was close to the balcony, I made a quick exit, and slipped outside.

  It was freezing.

  I was steaming.

  Literally.

  Steam came off me as I crunched across the snow covered balcony over to the railing and looked at the grounds below. We were somewhat below my level, and more westerly. I had a really stunning view of the Brownie Tree glowing in the night, with little flits of light zipping all around. I couldn’t quite make out the individual brownies, but that would be impossible from this distance, given how tiny they were.

  I wasn’t alone outside, but there seemed to be an unwritten rule that people got left alone on the balcony. You know, if that’s what you were heading outside for. Otherwise, you’d leave couples alone. There were more than a few couples using the unchaperoned time to do the things you do out of view. Especially when you’re young and living in the same place as your parents. Nothing like teenage hormones let loose in confined spaces. I suddenly found another reason to dread Fiends’ Night.

  Even here, I could feel drama brewing. A young woman was pacing back and forth, clenching her tiny fists and getting ready to punch someone. Even money it was a guy she was missing or a girl he was kissing.

  “You okay?” I asked.

  She peered at me, but I don’t think realized who I was. Which made sense: it was dark outside, and I was leaning against the balustrade so you couldn’t really see how tall I was. Plus, maybe she’d had too much red death punch and was riding a sugar high.

  “Not really, no,” she said, her words coming so fast that there was barely a pause between them. “I was supposed to meet Edwin here. We spoke about this right before dinner, and is he here? No. He is somewhere else. Where? I have no idea. I am supposed to know where he is because he is supposed to be here, and yet, do I? No. You know where I think he is? I think he is slinking around Veronica’s rooms, because Veronica has been all over Edwin even though she clearly knows that I fancy him and he fancies me and our families make much more sense joining than her family, because her family is only nobility on paper, they have no lands any longer. But then Veronica will say that my family will only have our lands until they crown the next Emperor, and then we will have them taken, but that’s a lie. Veronica is a liar. And a trollop. Trollop. And I am not afraid to know who knows I know what she has done. We all know. We all know. All of us. Everyone knows.”

  “I don’t actually know,” I said, slightly into this bawdy tale and getting curious.

  “She is a trollop! Which is maddening. Why does she do what she does? And how does she get away with it? You know she has had three boys betrothed to her and managed to slip out of each one with the jewels still hers? How does she do that? I stand here trying to think of a single other girl who has done so much wrong as her, and I cannot. At least not one who is alive. And does she show an ounce of contrition over what she has clearly done? Not a whit. Nothing. She is a soulless canker sore on the Empire and should be thrown into the bloody chasm so we are free of her.”

  “But Edwin likes her.”

  “All the boys like her.”

  “I’m sure Edwin likes you.”

  “Edwin does like me. You are right. Very smart you are. But tell me: if you are so smart, why is Edwin not here?”

  “Maybe he got lost.”

  “He got lost? Here? That seems impossible. Or, is it? He could get lost here, I suppose. It is rather complicated. And they keep adding tunnels. They should put up signs. Do you know why they do not put up signs? I cannot fathom why there are no signs.”

  “There should be signs.”

  “There should be, right? I almost got lost just making my way here from my rooms.”

  “So Edwin got lost.”

  “He would have found his way here by now. It cannot be that hard, right? If he wanted to be here, he would get here. That’s what I think. I think, if he got lost, he would have asked someone how to get here, and he would be here, but he’s not. Clearly he is with Victoria.”

  “You mean Veronica?”

  “What did I say?”

  “Victoria.”

  “I meant Veronica. Although, maybe I didn’t. Maybe I knew that, I have some element of a gift with soothsaying, you know. I could see the future here. Maybe he is interested in Victoria. That would explain so much.”

  “Like what?”

  “Like why he isn’t here right now.”

  “Do you know a Victoria?”

  “No, but that doesn’t mean there’s no Victoria here.”

  “You know, there might actually be a Victoria here.”

  “You see? I knew it!”

  “Let’s not jump to conclusions about Edwin. Could be he’s just lost.”

  “He is not lost. He is with Victoria.”

  “Or Veronica.”

  “Right. He could be with either. Or both. It wouldn’t surprise me if he was with both, considering what I’ve heard Veronica does.”

  “Is Veronica here?” I asked.

  The girl frowned. Then she whirled around and stalked over to the windows. She pushed her face up against the glass. Which made me wonder when we’d gotten glass. My windows didn’t have glass. I heard a gasp, then the girl stomped back over to me.

  “She is here!” she said. “The nerve of her. To come here after what she did to Edwin.”

  “I mean, I don’t want to be the voice of reason here, because what’s the fun in that,” I said, “but if she’s here, maybe Edwin wasn’t with her.”

  “Then where is he? Huh? If you know so much about people and things, where is he?”

  “No idea.”

  “Well, some help you are. I’m going inside and finding a new boy. Edwin will just have to suffer.”

  “I’m sure he will,” I said.

  And with that, the young lady stormed into the ballroom, found a new boy, and dragged the hapless kid onto the dance flo
or.

  “Seems a bit young for you,” came the gross voice of Fuckface.

  “Definitely,” I said, keeping my gentle lean, despite his approach.

  I could tell he wanted to say something to me, but he was struggling with himself. Either about how to say it or what to say.

  “Nice night,” I said, happy to look up and see the stars for once.

  “You are not from Glaton,” he finally spat out.

  “That is true,” I said.

  “Then why do you hold a title?” There was an obvious rage in him. I wasn’t sure how to react. I assumed a duke would probably be fully within his rights to toss a fuck like this into prison for mouthing off this way.

  And yet...

  I pulled out my book, thinking hard about asking it for advice. But I knew the answer without the book.

  “Because I was adopted,” I said. “And the guy who adopted me wanted me to take his title. So I did.”

  “Because of your adopted father?” he asked.

  I nodded.

  “What of your real father?”

  “What of him?”

  “What would he think of what you are doing?”

  I couldn’t help but look out into the dark night sky. I clenched my teeth and swallowed hard, because I didn’t want Fuckface to see what thinking about my father did to me.

  “I don’t know,” I intoned. “I’d like to think he’d be proud that I was finally making hard choices.”

  I blinked away a tear before it had a chance to fall, and then turned back to Fuckface McTraitor with a smile on my face.

  “It does not seem that being a noble is a hard choice, your grace,” he said, putting some real salt in it.

  “Maybe not,” I said. “But it’s harder than anything I’ve done before.”

  “Being waited on hand and foot is hard? What was your life like before?”

  “Simple,” I said with a wistful smile. “Rough, but simple. I really only had to do what I wanted, when I wanted. Well, for the most part.”

  “And you are limited now? The only position above you is empty. You answer to no one.”