by Eric Vall
“I’m sorry, he’s very busy,” Daisy shouted over her shoulder. “Charles? Where are we going? Should I stop? What do those women want from you?”
“Just keep going down the street, park on the right side,” I instructed her. “I’ll get out and tie off the horses. I don’t know, Daisy… It’s all bizarre, you’re not the only one who doesn’t understand. None of them should be talking to me. My reputation should be ruined.”
The brunette pressed her lips together into a firm line, sat up a little straighter, and guided the wagon to the place I’d indicated. She pulled back on the reins right as I jumped from the driver’s seat, I turned, held up a hand for the reins, and then tied them off to a post on the sidewalk. Then I came around the wagon, held up my hands, gripped Daisy by the waist, and helped her down onto the street.
“Don’t let your hands linger,” Daisy muttered, brushed me away with a scoff, and then pressed a hand to her waist in a way that was similar to the way Edony had earlier.
“This way,” I nodded toward a small path that led away from the busy street and into a small town square. “The shop I wanted to look into is a few streets down, within walking distance.”
“Alright,” the brunette breathed. “Walk a little behind me, and just give me directions under your breath. People will suspect something if we move shoulder to shoulder like equals.”
“Understood,” I chuckled, gestured for her to step forward, and then followed a few paces after. “You really are good at these aristocrat things.”
I was in awe of the bear-girl as she swept into the paved courtyard, glanced disinterestedly at the other aristocrats milling about, floated forward, and followed my directions from over her shoulder. The two of us were almost out of the small circular courtyard when a high-pitched singsong voice rang out from a restaurant to our right.
“Yoohoo!” an older woman grinned, waved a handkerchief, and gestured for the two of to get closer. “Is that Charles Rayburn and his mistress, Ms. Browning? What luck, ladies! We were just talking about you!”
Daisy paused, glanced at the three women seated at one of the tables outside of the restaurant, peeked at me over her shoulder, and then daintily stepped closer to them.
“Look how pretty she is!” a young, blonde woman cried from her seat. “I’ve never met a Browning before, you’ve been all over the gossip lately.”
“You’re a hot commodity right now, Charles Rayburn,” the middle woman purred. “Everyone’s been speaking about you since early this morning. We wondered when you’d show your face in town again… and here you are, not even a few hours later.”
“Excuse me,” Daisy broke in sharply. “I don’t mean to be rude, but who are you? What does everyone want with Charles? They’ve been pestering us since the moment we rode into town, and I can’t quite understand why they’d be interested in my consort.”
“Oh, I’m sorry, dear,” the oldest woman apologized. “We’ve forgotten you’ve only just arrived. I’m Madam Adelia, the young lady is Lady Josephine, and sitting in the middle is Dame Lilliana. I’m sorry if you’ve been pestered since you’ve arrived today, it just seems that the city has been abuzz with rumors about your consort.”
“What do they want with Charles?” the brunette repeated.
“Why don’t you sit down and join us for our luncheon?” Lady Josephine offered. “We can tell you all about it…”
The youngest woman’s tone seemed to darken as her eyes wandered over my face, lowered, and sized up my body, too. I glanced over at Daisy, but the brunette kept her face away from me as she glared down at the three aristocratic women.
“Won’t you sit down, please?” Dame Lilliana crooned. “Or shall we lure you in with a tidbit of information?”
“I simply would like to know why all the sudden interest in my consort?” the bear-girl breathed. “No one wanted him before this, not until the Duchess became involved.”
“Certainly,” Adelia purred. “That’s the whole reason there’s interest in him now, of course. You see, we’ve only just heard your consort was contracted with the Duchess for a very long time, and none of us knew. Now the news is all over the place, and the city is just eating it up. You’re new here, so you might not understand how the hierarchy works yet, but… if the Duchess had something, everyone wants it, too… even after it’s discarded.”
“I don’t quite understand what you mean.” Daisy scoffed.
“Everyone in Edenhart wants what the Duchess has, even after she’s thrown it away,” Josephine sneered. “And that brand-new, sought after item abandoned by Edony is… Charles Rayburn. Everyone wants him, in one way or another.”
Chapter Four
“W-What?” I stammered. “What is that supposed to mean?”
“Why don’t you sit down?” Madam Adelia purred. “We can discuss it more over luncheon. We actually hoped that you’d show up, but we had our doubts. You rarely show your face in the city unless you’re out buying supplies.”
I glanced over at Daisy, but the brunette kept her honey-colored eyes trained on the three aristocrats. I was skeptical of their motivations, but they didn’t seem threatening, more curious than anything, and I had to admit, my interest was piqued.
“What do you think, Mistress?” I asked in a fake timid voice.
“Yes, let’s sit down and hear what they have to say,” Daisy nodded.
The brunette swept forward, and I rushed after her, pulled out a chair for her, and then settled myself in beside the bear-girl. Daisy glanced over the many plates laid out on the table, grabbed a small plate from the stack, piled a few servings of each dish onto it, and then leaned back in her seat.
“Charles,” Dame Josephine smiled. “Have some, too. We ordered enough for everyone.”
The young blonde looked to be in her early twenties, her shoulder-length hair was pin-straight, and pulled back at the sides to reveal her clear, dewy-looking skin. Her eyes were round, almond-shaped, and tangerine orange like a cat’s. The dress she wore looked expensive and tailored made, but the fabric and designs weren’t as fancy as others I’d seen before, it was clear she had money, but she wasn’t in such a high tier as the Duchess or the departed Delphine. Josephine’s voice was high-pitched, soft, and sweet, almost like a child’s, and as she wriggled excitedly in her seat, she resembled one, too.
“Yes, thank you.” I bowed my head, grabbed a plate, and began grabbing different foods from the platters. “I appreciate your kindness.”
“Think nothing of it,” Adelia breathed. “We only ask for a few tidbits of information in exchange for our hospitality.”
All three women scooted closer, grinned, giggled softly, and then stared at me enrapt. Josephine leaned across the table, bit her bottom lip, glanced over at Daisy, cleared her throat, and then sat back in her seat.
“What would you like to know…” I trailed off.
“Just a few things,” Dame Lilliana shrugged. “Here and there.”
Lilliana looked to be in her mid-to-late thirties and reminded me a lot of the strict schoolmarms from my childhood. She was almost painfully plain looking with cropped chestnut-colored hair, pale, slate-gray eyes, and a few deep-set wrinkles underneath her eyes. The Dame wore a lemon-colored chiffon dress with intricate lace at her throat and wrists, a small pill-box hat with a plume of long, white feathers, and a pair of round glasses.
“There isn’t much to tell,” I stated. “If it has anything to do with the projects I worked on with the Duchess, then I’m sorry, I can’t tell you anything about those.”
All three-woman deflated, sat back in their chairs, glowered down at the tabletop for a moment, and they sat up a bit straighter.
“Well, I’m sure there’s more than just that you can tell us about,” Adelia sighed. “We heard that your manor is up for auction… The Duchess made an announcement about it this morning.”
Madam Adelia was the oldest out of all three women, and her face sagged with heavy wrinkles. She was rail-thin, with bird-l
ike arms and a waist so small she must have been wearing a corset since she was ten years old. Her long, loosely curled hair was the color of smoke and pulled up into a bun with a few stray coils framing her face. Her eyes were beady, sunken into the sockets of her face, and dull indigo in color, but when she smiled across the table at me, they lit with a strange fire I hadn’t noticed before.
The older woman wore the most expensive-looking dress, the only one comparable to the ones that the Duchess wore regularly. The floral print across the skirt was loud, brightly colored, and a bit obnoxious, as if she wanted everyone to know she had money. A massive, gaudy diamond necklace hung around her pale, liver-spotted neck, and it jangled loudly when she inclined her head.
“Yes,” I exhaled. “I broke the contract with her when I became Ms. Browning’s consort. There was no end date on our contract, so we would’ve been allowed to stay if I continued working on experiments, any experiment, not just for her, but Edony decided if she couldn’t force me out with our void agreement, she’d simply auction off the property. If the manor is owned by someone else, the stipulations of the contract are null.”
“My only question is if someone purchases the property with no intention of throwing you out,” Josephine giggled. “Do they own you like the Duchess did, or are you contractually obligated to work for them?”
I had to stop my mouth from dropping open, glanced over at Daisy, cleared my throat, and shuffled around the food on my plate.
“The Duchess never owned Charles,” Daisy corrected. “She employed him for work, he wasn’t her consort.”
“Well, maybe not own him,” Adelia tittered. “But, would you still be required to work for them?”
“I never thought of it like that,” I chuckled. “I’m not sure how to answer… but if someone wanted to hire me for some work, I’d be willing.”
“You’re an inventor, correct?” Lilliana raised an eyebrow. “I’ve heard rumors, not just ones stirred up today, but from long ago that you were an alchemist. Is that true?”
“He’s a doctor and scientist,” the bear-girl clarified with an annoyed snort.
“Yes, yes, of course, he is,” Josephine babbled. “But we’ve all heard about your past profession. Is it true? Did the Duchess stumble across you in the streets, offer you a job, and then sweep you away to the manor you currently live in?”
This was part of my past that I hated talking about, when I’d been a lowly alchemist, peddling elixirs, charmed amulets, and finely mixed powders to cure disease and sickness. Alchemy was considered dirty and immoral by the aristocratic class, and, in a way, I felt so, too. I revered myself as a doctor with my feet firmly planted in the medical and scientific world, but my past always came back to haunt me.
I wouldn’t say I was a successful alchemist, though I’d had a few triumphs in the profession, but nothing compared to the creation of my two monster-girls.
“I heard that you created something similar to azoth,” Adelia snickered. “And then, the Duchess discovered you and snatched you off the streets.”
“Azoth?” Daisy echoed.
“Azoth is a universal solvent,” I explained. “It’s the rarest of agents in the realm of alchemy, and I created something akin to it, not exactly the same, but close.”
“What does it do?” The bear-girl tilted her head.
“Anything,” I chuckled. “It heals all mortal wounds, and is believed to give the drinker eternal life, though, in the alchemy world, it’s just speculation. But to clarify, I didn’t make azoth, I made alkahest.”
“And the Duchess?” My Mistress prodded.
“She purchased the only bottle of alkahest from my tiny stall,” I informed all of them. “I don’t know why, maybe she was ill or something, but she came back a few days later and asked me if I could do more than alchemy.”
“That’s how you met Edony?” Lilliana asked.
“Yes,” I exhaled. “I had a single successful experiment, and the Duchess saw the potential within me. She took me back to the duchy, questioned me for a few hours, and saw me fit for the job. I was already practiced in medicine and engineering, so those aided me in the experiments she wanted to be done.”
“It really would be wonderful if you could tell us what you did for the Duchess,” Josephine pouted. “We’re all dying to hear, it’s all so interesting… your work and science… uhm, stuff.”
“I’m sorry.” I shook my head. “As I said before, I can’t tell you any of that information.”
Suddenly, Lilliana leaned forward with a feverish look in her eyes, grasped me by the hand, and tugged me closer.
“What are you doing?” Adelia gasped.
“Please refrain from touching my property.” Daisy snapped.
“You’re proficient in alchemy, are you not?” the brunette questioned. “You can create solvents, powders, explosives, and finely ground powders, correct?”
“Y-Yes,” I stammered. “Why do you ask?”
The middle woman let go of my hand, sat back in her seat, crossed her arms over her chest, glanced at the other two women, and then smirked.
“I think I’d like to commission you, Alchemist,” Lilliana grinned. “I’ll pay you handsomely for it, especially if you finish it quickly… by the fourteenth of next month. I’ll pay you extra if you finish before the deadline.”
“The fourteenth?” Josephine grunted. “You don’t mean?”
“They won’t know what hit them,” the middle woman snorted. “I’ve been waiting for this day for years! Finally, I might win.”
“I’d like to commission you, too!” Adelia slammed her palms down on the table. “But I need my item before Lilliana, I’ll pay you double!”
“Me, too!” Josephine blathered. “I-I don’t need what they’re talking about, but one of the elevator’s in my mines keeps breaking down, and I desperately need someone to come and fix it!”
“I-I don’t quite understand,” I stuttered. “What do you need me to build for you?”
“Not build,” Adelia blurted. “I… I need a gas, or… or a fine mist of a sulfur-based prototypical substance.”
“Sulfur based? Like… mustard gas?” I barely managed to croak out before Lilliana grabbed my hand again, jerked me forward, and leaned in close.
“I need black powder,” the middle woman nearly shouted. “You know what that is, right? A chemical explosive used in flintlock guns and cannons? Can you make it for me?”
“An… explosive?” I echoed.
“I really just need that one elevator fixed,” Josephine giggled. “I don’t partake in the yearly festivities because I’m not as influential as the others, and my mines make me more money than losing my consorts does.”
Their words encircled me like a wild tornado, and each time another woman chimed in, it made it harder to understand what they meant. Mustard gas? Explosives? Yearly festivities? Losing consorts? What were these women talking about? Why did one of them need a chemical weapon, and the other need a chemical explosive? What were they doing that needed such things, and why were consorts involved?
My hands slammed down on the table, glanced at each of the aristocrats, pressed my lips into a firm line, and I leaned forward. The women clamped their lips shut, sat back in their chairs, and stared at me in stunned silence.
“What… no, why do you need these things?” I asked.
“Well, my elevator keeps breaking down,” Josephine plunged on. “We repair it constantly, but it keeps happening, and I can’t keep throwing funds down the drain.”
“No, not that.” I shook my head and looked at the other two women. “Why do you need mustard gas and black powder? What on earth could you be doing with those things?”
Lilliana and Adelia opened their mouths to speak, peeked at each other out of the corners of their eyes, grunted softly, and then sat back in their chairs.
“Oh? You haven’t heard?” the young blonde inquired. “It’s this super old tradition passed on from hundreds of years ago--”
> “Josephine!” Adelia hissed through her teeth.
“W-What?” the blonde gasped. “I was just telling Charles about the--”
“Enough,” Lilliana grunted. “He clearly doesn’t know what we’re talking about.”
“What is it?” Daisy demanded. “This tradition?”
Lilliana whipped her head toward Adelia, nodded toward my Mistress meaningfully, cleared her throat, and widened her eyes.
“Well, we assumed since Charles worked with the Duchess for so long, he knew about the… festivities.” The older woman stated.
“We thought the reason she’d contracted you was for an item,” Lilliana muttered. “To use against us.”
“Tell me,” Daisy raised her voice. “I need to know.”
“I’m not sure if we can do that, my dear--” Adelia started, but Daisy cut her off.
“Tell me now.” the bear-girl boomed.
“A-Alright, it’s something that happens every year, generally at the end of summer in celebration of the Queen’s birthday,” the young blonde explained. “I generally don’t participate, I’m not rich enough, and the consorts I can afford are used for breeding purposes only.”
“Go on,” Daisy instructed.
“If the Duchess hasn’t told him, I don’t think it’s best if we’re the ones who inform him.” Lilliana protested.
“Silence,” the bear-girl snapped. “Tell me, Josephine, what is this celebration?”
“It’s called ‘The Diefeir’ in honor of the Queen’s birthday,” the blonde expounded. “It’s like… a war, but not a war? They do it for sport or fun, I’m not sure which. I never saw the appeal of it because I can’t afford to spare my men.”
“It’s a mock war,” Adelia pursed her lips. “Each city holds a small celebration with each aristocrat bringing their best servants or consorts forward. They force them to battle, and whichever woman’s army is the last one standing is the winner.”
