"Enough," I said, thoroughly exhausted by my options. "I shall go with the Sully tweed. I won't feel sad if I get plant juice and other assorted filth on it because it will give me a good excuse to dispose of it."
"Very good, sir," Grimsby said.
A little churlishly I might add.
His own philosophy was that I look good at all times. It was difficult to convince him of the practicalities of dungeon diving meaning I was doubtless going to bring home a disgusting layer of muck and gore on whatever I was wearing.
While he might enjoy scrubbing suits, I preferred to throw it away and buy a new one so the smell didn't linger.
"I'll also take a cane. The Compton's one, I think. It's sturdy enough to give out a solid beating in a pinch."
"Excellent choice, sir," he said, brightening a little.
Someone knocked on the door.
A shy knock.
The kind of knock a child might knock if they were feeling a bit insecure and worried they were about to be scolded.
"Come in, Penelope."
The Death Knight poked her head in first, then the rest of her followed cautiously. Her black armor had been polished to a bright sheen which glinted very nicely. I was happy to see she was taking good care of herself.
Over the top of the armor, she wore a frilly maid outfit which was scandalously short. The little bonnet on her helm could be considered comic effect, but I knew she took her new role very seriously and had done my best not to snigger in case she thought I was mocking her.
She gave me a clumsy curtsy which almost brought a smile to my face.
How nice to have servants who showed me the bare minimum of respect.
I shot Grimsby a sour expression, but he pretended not to notice.
"Sir, I heard you were going to the Gluttonous Hollow," she said. Her voice thrummed with power and cold mist seeped out of her helm while her eyes glowed with merciless light. "Will you require my assistance?"
"Why? Were you hoping to join us?"
"Err." She scratched her helm with an armoured finger. Some habits are hard to lose. "I had heard there were some Verdant Ostriches in the dungeon. I was hoping to collect their feathers."
"Their feathers?"
"For my duster," she said, holding out her current one. The feathers did look a little droopy. "Verdant Ostrich feathers are considered the absolute best. But they're expensive. I thought if you're heading into the dungeon anyway, I could collect some? I mean, I don't want to be in the way…"
"Hmm." I pressed my lips together. I didn't really like travelling in groups. It gave me too much to think about. However, I didn't feel like plucking feathers from dead fowl. "Very well. We'll leave in an hour. Can you be ready by then?"
"Yes, sir!" She straightened enthusiastically, the feather duster in her hand quivering with excitement. "And thank you, sir! Thank you!"
She clattered out of the room, humming to herself.
I glanced at Grimsby, who didn't quite shrug.
"How is she doing?"
"As well as can be expected, sir."
"What's that supposed to mean?"
"Her body isn't exactly made for delicate work, sir." He didn't quite sigh. "We've had more than a few accidents relating to dropped plates."
"Ah." I sucked a breath through my teeth. That's the sort of thing Death Knights were known for. "Maybe I should have just put her into a human body instead."
"It might have been more convenient, sir."
"Oh, well. Maybe later." I opened my spatial bag and pulled out my favourite jar. Checking inside, I saw only crumbs. "Could you please have Mudge refill this?"
"Yes, sir," he said.
The jar was swept from my hand and the lich disappeared without a sound.
Leaving me alone in my room.
Another knock made me pause. This one was firm. Like someone who was trying to convince themselves they weren't nervous at all and that knocking on someone's door was a normal healthy thing to do and shouldn't at all be considered rude.
"Come in, Violet."
"I'm not intruding, am I?"
"Absolutely not," I said, smiling as she slid gracefully into the room.
She did most things gracefully, I thought.
"I was talking to Clover," she said, as a small concerned frown settled between her brows. "She was telling me about this dungeon. She said several Guild members died there last year. It's supposed to be very dangerous."
"Dangerous?" I felt a brief moment of confusion. Why would it be dangerous? Then I remembered. "Oh! Yes, yes. There's a lot of poisonous species in there. And some levels are absolutely devious."
"So it is dangerous?"
"Absolutely. I remember the first time I went in. My hat was completely ruined."
"Hat?"
"And my shoes. I recall the laces were completely gone. And there was no way even Grimsby could clean off the mud," I sighed, remembering their loss. "They were a fine pair, too. I miss them greatly."
She put a hand on my chest, her eyes wide with deepest worry.
Her bottom lip trembled as she spoke.
"Taran, please," she said with breathy care. "I don't want to see you hurt. Clover doesn't want it, either. We wouldn't be able to live with ourselves if something terrible happened to you!"
"Terrible?" I tried to think what terrible thing could happen in the Gluttonous Hollow dungeon. Patting her head, I smiled. "It should be fine, Violet. I don't even like this suit."
"It's not your suit we care for!"
"Violet," I said softly, cupping her precious cheeks in my hands. Oh, they were so soft! So plump. So in need of a squeeze! But I didn't squeeze. I maintained my composure. "This dungeon might pose a threat to mages from the Guild, but I am a void mage. There is nothing in there capable of causing any lasting harm."
That didn't seem to comfort her as much as I'd hoped.
Like most women, she found it necessary to focus on one word instead of the whole thing.
"Lasting?"
"Yes," I confirmed. "I know from last time that, on one level, there exist a vicious species of dog, called a Rabid Bloodhound."
"Oh!" Her face went pale and she swallowed hard. I could feel her body trembling as the name summoned images of snarling snapping creatures whose teeth could tear and chew through the body of a man in seconds. She wasn't wrong in her imagination by much.
"Very dangerous beasts," I said. "To anyone else. To me, the worst they will do is make me sneeze. I'm allergic to their hair."
"Sneeze? Their hair?" I decided right there and then that her befuddled face was her most beautiful expression.
Letting her go, I gave her another pat on the head. "Try not to worry, Violet. I am also taking Mudge and Penelope if that makes you feel better."
"A chef and a maid?"
"Well, someone has to polish my shoes," I said with an impish smile. "And make my afternoon tea."
"Promise me you won't be in danger!"
"I promise."
"And you'll come back safe and sound?"
"Absolutely," I said. "I'll even have all my fingers."
"Don't say such things," she said with a shudder.
"And my toes."
"Taran!" She let out a wail and wrapped her arms around me. "Stop teasing, please! We've all heard such horrid things about that place. I don't want you to be hurt just for Clover's silly grass!"
"It's not silly," I said. "It's alchemical ingredients. They're very important."
"Your life is more important."
"That's very nice of you to say," I said. "And I shall remember it. But really, Violet. There's nothing to worry about."
"Except sneezes?"
"Except sneezes," I agreed with a chuckle.
"If you're lying to me, I shall be very cross with you."
"I know."
She let me go, and began smoothing down her dress and adjusting her hair. "And you'll look after Mudge and dear Penelope?"
"Of course."
"And you'll be home for dinner?"
"Well, I can't let you cook your own, can I? Mudge needs to be here for you."
Her face scrunched as her mind threw thoughts at her. "I didn't think of it that way."
"Nevermind," I said. "Grimsby will sort things out if need be."
"But you promised-"
"Nothing will happen," I said firmly. There was a time when a gentleman needed to put his foot down firmly and this was the time. "But delays sometimes occur and Grimsby will know what to do if we miss our carriage."
"Oh." She closed her eyes to calm herself. Then opened them again. Her expression looked determined as she darted in quickly. Her lips briefly touched my cheek and I felt a wild hurricane of emotion swoop through my body.
"Violet…" I blinked. "That is…"
"Shh." She held out her hand, her cheeks flushed so bright red that I thought they might burst.
Without a word, I slipped my hand into my pocket, pulled out her panties and handed them to her.
She scrunched them up and put her hand behind her back.
"Thank you," she said.
And left so quickly that even Grimsby might be impressed.
Alone again, I touched my cheek and tried to pull my thoughts together. Unfortunately, they were all knotted up.
"Sir," Grimsby said, holding out a tray. There was something like amusement in his tone. I wasn't sure I liked it. "Your gin and tonic."
I plucked the drink off the tray with a dazed nod.
"Is it Winsday, Grimsby?"
"Yes, sir, I believe it is."
"I thought so." I took a sip. "I never could get the hang of Winsdays."
***
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