The moonlight painted them both in silver as Corin pulled her closer, his hands moving to her waist. The game had shifted into something else entirely, something they'd both been dancing around since it started.
Above Elara's head, the heart icon pulsed at 47%, but it was climbing. 51%. 54%.
"Show me," she whispered, her eyes dark with want. "What you were thinking about."
Corin's hands slid up from her waist, slowly, giving her every chance to pull away. She didn't. His fingers traced along her ribs through the fabric of her dress, feeling the way her breath hitched with each inch.
58%. 62%.
"I thought about this," he said quietly, his voice rough. "About touching you. Learning every curve."
His hand cupped her breast through the wool, gentle but deliberate. Elara gasped, her back arching slightly into the touch.
67%. 71%.
"Corin," she breathed, and hearing his name like that sent heat straight through him.
His other hand tangled in her hair, tilting her head back so he could kiss her throat. She made a sound between a whimper and a moan that made him want to devour her.
75%. 79%.
"Is this what you wanted?" he murmured against her skin. "Is this what you imagined?"
"Yes," Elara gasped. "God, yes."
His hand moved lower, tracing down her stomach, feeling the way her muscles tensed under his touch. The meter climbed higher. 82%. 85%.
'Almost there,' Corin thought. 'Just a little more and—'
Footsteps echoed in the hallway outside. Fast, urgent footsteps.
They both froze.
A knock at the door. "Elara? Are you in there?"
Senna's voice.
Elara's eyes went wide with panic. The Lust-Meter vanished instantly as reality crashed back in, her arousal replaced by pure fear.
"Just a moment!" Corin called, his voice strained.
Elara scrambled away from him, frantically trying to fix her hair, smooth her dress, find her cap that had fallen somewhere during the kissing.
"Elara, I know you're in there," Senna said through the door. "Cook saw you heading this way an hour ago and you never came back to the servants' quarters."
'Shit,' Corin thought. 'Of course someone noticed.'
Elara looked around desperately for a hiding spot.
"Under the bed," Corin hissed.
"What?!"
"Just do it!"
She dropped to her knees and squeezed under the bed frame as another knock came, more insistent this time.
Corin took a breath, adjusted his disheveled clothing, and cracked the door open just enough to show his face. Senna stood there looking worried, her blonde hair coming loose from its braid.
"Senna. What's wrong?"
"I'm looking for Elara. Have you seen her?"
"Elara? No, why?"
"Cook saw her heading toward the guest wing over an hour ago. She never came back to the servants' quarters." Senna tried to peer past him into the room. "This is the guest wing."
Corin kept the door partially closed, blocking her view. "I haven't seen her. Maybe she went for a walk?"
"In the middle of the night?" Senna's eyes narrowed. "Are you alone in there?"
"Of course I'm alone."
"Then why won't you open the door properly?"
'Shit.'
Corin opened the door wider, trying to look casual. Senna's gaze peered into the gaping room and she saw nothing then it traveled down his body and stopped. Her eyes widened slightly, a flush creeping up her neck as she noticed the obvious bulge straining against his breeches.
"I was... sleeping," Corin said, which was the weakest excuse imaginable.
"Sleeping." Senna's voice was flat. "With that?"
"It's a natural thing that happens—"
"I know what it is." Her cheeks were bright red now, but she didn't look away. "You're certain Elara isn't here?"
"Positive."
Senna studied him for another long moment, her green eyes flickering between his face and his obvious arousal. Her breathing had quickened slightly, and she kept licking her lips nervously.
"If you see her," Senna said, her voice slightly higher than normal, "tell her to come back. It's not proper for maids to wander at night."
"Of course."
She turned to leave, movements slightly jerky, then paused and glanced back. Her eyes dropped to his crotch again before quickly snapping back to his face. "Young master? Your shirt is buttoned wrong."
Corin looked down. She was right. He'd missed two buttons in his haste.
"Good night," Senna said breathlessly, practically fleeing down the hallway. He caught the way she pressed one hand to her flushed cheeks as she disappeared around the corner.
Corin closed the door and sagged against it, his erection now painfully uncomfortable.
Elara crawled out from under the bed, covered in dust, her face a mixture of mortification and frustrated arousal. The Lust-Meter was completely gone now, replaced by embarrassment.
"I have to go," she whispered. "If Cook finds out I've been here—"
"I know. Go."
She paused at the door, looking back. "Tonight?"
"If you can sneak away."
She slipped out into the hallway, leaving Corin alone with his racing heart and an erection that wasn't going anywhere soon.
[So close. You almost had her completely corrupted. Then that blonde idiot ruined everything]
'Story of my life,' Corin thought, collapsing onto the bed. 'Always interrupted at the worst possible moment.'
[Get some sleep. Tomorrow's training is going to be hell, and you'll need the energy]
---
Dawn came too early.
Corin dragged himself out of bed, every muscle protesting. The sun hadn't even fully risen yet, the sky that pale gray that came right before dawn broke.
He pulled on his clothes and grabbed the jump rope.
'Day two. Fifty push-ups, seventy-five sit-ups, two hundred jump rope rotations, three laps. I can do this.'
[You barely managed thirty push-ups yesterday and nearly died. Today's requirements are higher. This is going to be entertaining]
'Shut up and let me work.'
He started with the push-ups. The first ten weren't terrible. By twenty his arms were shaking. By thirty he was cursing under his breath.
"Thirty-one... fuck... thirty-two... shit... thirty-three..."
[Pathetic. My grandmother could do better, and she's been dead for three hundred years]
"Your grandmother... can go... fuck herself..."
[She probably did. Unlike you, who got interrupted before you could finish anything]
Corin's face burned, but not from exertion. 'Low blow.'
[Truth hurts. Now stop whining and finish. Forty-two more to go]
"I hate you so much."
By push-up forty, Corin collapsed face-first into the grass. Sweat soaked through his tunic despite the cool morning air.
[Giving up already?]
"Just... resting..."
[You rest, you fail. You fail, you stay weak. You stay weak, you'll never be worthy of what Lady Catherine offers. Or what Elara was ready to give you last night]
That got him moving again. Corin forced himself back into position and continued. Forty-one. Forty-two. Each one was agony, but he kept going.
'If I'd been stronger last night,' he thought between reps, 'maybe I could have carried her to the bed without making noise. Maybe we wouldn't have been interrupted. Maybe—'
[Maybe you're daydreaming instead of focusing. Forty-eight. Two more.]
"Forty-nine... fifty!" Corin collapsed again, gasping.
[Good. Now sit-ups. Seventy-five. Begin.]
"Can't I rest for—"
[No.]
The sit-ups were worse. His abs burned like someone had poured acid on them. Somewhere around sit-up forty, the maids started appearing.
Senna emerged first from the kitchen door, eyes widening at the sight of Corin convulsing through exercises.
"Is he... alright?" she asked no one in particular.
Mira appeared next, carrying a basket of laundry. She stopped, watched Corin curse his way through sit-up fifty-three, and shook her head.
"He's either very dedicated or completely insane."
"Could be both," Elara's voice added. She'd emerged from the main house, looking tired but composed. Her eyes met Corin's for just a moment, and he saw the flash of heat there before she looked away.
The Lust-Meter didn't appear. Too much distance, too many people around.
[Focus, you horny idiot. Sixty-eight. Seven more.]
Corin finished the sit-ups and immediately grabbed the jump rope. His legs felt like jelly but he forced them to move.
The rope slapped against the ground in rhythm with his labored breathing. One hundred rotations. One-fifty. His coordination started failing around one-seventy, causing him to trip and start over.
"Damn it!"
The maids watched in fascination as he cursed, stumbled, and pushed through anyway.
Finally, mercifully, he finished all two hundred rotations and started his laps around the property.
By the time he completed the third lap, the sun had fully risen and Corin looked like he'd been dunked in a river. He collapsed onto the grass, chest heaving, unable to move.
[Quest Complete: Training Regimen Day 2/30]
[Rewards: +1 Stamina, +1 Endurance, 15 XP, 10 CP]
[Level Up!]
[You are now Level 2]
[New stat point available for distribution]
'Finally,' Corin thought. 'Something good.'
[Don't celebrate yet. Tomorrow's requirements are even higher]
The three maids approached cautiously, like he might be rabid.
"Young master," Senna said carefully. "Are you... dying?"
"No," Corin gasped. "Just... training."
"Training for what?" Mira asked.
Corin sat up slowly, wiping sweat from his face. "To get stronger. Can't stay weak forever."
"Most men your age would be resting after the injuries you had," Mira observed. "You're pushing yourself like a soldier preparing for war."
"Maybe I am." Corin stood on shaky legs. "This world doesn't forgive weakness. I learned that the hard way."
Elara was looking at him differently now. Not just with attraction, but something else. Respect, maybe. Or admiration for the sheer stubborn determination it took to push through that kind of pain.
An idea struck him.
"You know," Corin said, "there are exercises that don't require this much suffering. Techniques that help you relax, stretch your muscles, calm your mind. We called it yoga where I'm from."
"Yoga?" Senna tested the word.
"Controlled movements, breathing exercises, meditation. Helps with stress, flexibility, mental clarity." Corin was improvising based on half-remembered internet articles, but the concept was sound. "I could teach you, if you're interested. Might help after long days of work."
The maids exchanged glances.
"That sounds..." Elara started.
"Interesting," Mira finished. "When would these lessons be?"
"Evenings, maybe? After dinner? We could use the courtyard."
"I'd be interested in this yoga as well."
They all turned.
Lady Catherine stood on the manor steps, dressed in a morning gown of pale blue, her hair already arranged perfectly despite the early hour. She descended gracefully, studying Corin with those thoughtful blue eyes.
"If it helps maintain health and flexibility, it sounds valuable. Perhaps you could demonstrate these techniques this evening?"
"Of course, milady."
"Good. Now go clean yourself. We leave for Duchess Veridian's estate at midday, and you smell like a stable."
Corin bowed and retreated to his room. He bathed quickly in the wash house. Unfortunately , the maids were preoccupied today so he had to do it himself and after that he changed into the new clothes Lady Catherine had purchased, and examined himself in the small mirror.
The outfit was quality. Dark gray breeches that actually fit properly, a cream shirt with proper buttons instead of ties, and a deep blue vest that marked him as upper servant class. He looked... respectable. Like someone who belonged accompanying a noblewoman to a social gathering.
At noon precisely, the carriage waited outside.
Lady Catherine emerged in the forest green gown they'd selected together, and Corin's breath caught. She looked stunning, every inch the confident noblewoman about to walk into enemy territory.
"Ready?" she asked.
"Ready."
The ride to Duchess Veridian's estate took two hours through countryside that gradually became more manicured, more obviously wealthy. The roads improved, the farms looked prosperous, and eventually they passed through gates into what could only be called an estate complex.
Multiple buildings surrounded a central manor that was easily three times the size of Lady Catherine's home. Gardens sprawled in every direction, fountains, statues, paths lined with exotic trees. Carriages filled the circular drive, each one bearing different noble house crests.
And the women.
Corin's eyes nearly popped out of his skull.
Noblewomen everywhere. Dozens of them, dressed in gowns that made Lady Catherine's look modest, jewelry glittering in the afternoon sun, moving in clusters like schools of very expensive fish.
Young ones, older ones, milfs, beautiful ones, plain ones. But all wealthy. All connected. All potential clients for Lady Catherine's operation.
'Holy shit,' Corin thought as their carriage rolled to a stop. 'This is actually happening.'
[Welcome to the hunting ground, host]
The footman opened the door. Lady Catherine stepped out first, her chin high, her expression pleasant but regal.
Then Corin followed, and every eye in the courtyard turned to assess the young man accompanying Millhaven's most mysterious baroness.