Helena pushed into the room, closing the door behind her. She dripped with sweat as the steam clung to her pale, glistening skin. The tall woman looked at Luther and rolled her shoulders before she pulled off her top and tossed it onto the top of the pile he’d left by the door. Her breasts hung free, and Luther licked his lips as they dropped into view.
“Wyll told me you helped him train with the sword?” Helena asked as she pushed her trousers down and kicked them aside, leaving her naked as she stepped toward the pool.
Luther pointed to the buckets, and she rolled her eyes, but filled one from the pump and dumped it over herself. Her platinum blonde-white hair clung to her as it fell halfway down her back, and Luther enjoyed the show. That wasn’t why he’d asked her to do it, but he couldn’t deny the benefit. Helena’s beauty was one of the most notable things about her. She was big, muscular, and feminine in her shape, with soft eyes and a chest that held the best pillows Luther had ever been lucky enough to enjoy.
“Hm?” Luther asked, watching her step into the pool.
Helena smirked at him. “Really? You’ve seen me naked at least once a day since our wedding.”
“And every time, my love for you overwhelms me,” Luther said. He spread his arms against the rim of the bath behind him and patted the stone for Helena to sit beside him.
She sat across from him instead, blushing pink from her chest to her face. “I see you've found your tongue.”
“I’d happily lose it between your thighs,” Luther said, waggling his eyebrows.
Helena splashed him, though the wave fell far short of making it across the gap to hit him. “Behave. I’m sore from last night and training this morning.”
Luther chuckled. “Well, you didn’t have to train this morning. I tried to let you sleep.”
“You didn’t have to train either,” Helena pointed out as she mirrored Luther’s pose, spreading her arms and relaxing on the opposite bench. “Yet, not only did you train, but you’re now tutoring Wyll in swordsmanship?”
“I saw no harm in correcting the lad’s terrible form,” Luther said. “You would have too if you’d been there.”
Helena laughed and closed her eyes, relaxing. “Mm. You know I prefer to use my hands.”
Another person entered the bath. This time, there was no knock at the door to precede her arrival. Criella passed through the walls of the mansion without concern for its construction, and her spirit might as well have been ready for the bath since it stood naked. Her scarlet skin was her only covering, besides her sharp black nails, flowing black hair, and the black ram-like horns atop her head that ended at her pointed ears. She smiled, showing her fanged canines as her tail swished behind her.
The purplish hue over her gave her a distinct appearance from before her death, when she still had her body. Now, she was only visible while within the light of the magic crystals. Such crystals illuminated sections of the grounds and manor, including those in the chandeliers over the bath.
“There’s a visitor downstairs,” Criella signed using the silent language.
Luther nodded and signed back to her. “Yes, I met her outside when she thought I was a gardener. Do you know who she is?”
Criella nodded. “The name she gave Wulfric was Althea Raphael, here on sensitive business, personal to Lord Le Fey.”
“That name means nothing to me,” Luther signed. “Should it?”
“I don’t know her,” Criella gestured. “I’ve never heard of her before today. I only know her name and business with you because of her conversation with Wulfric.”
“I was expecting Wulfric to fetch me to meet her,” Luther signed.
“He told her to wait until the proper visitation time. She waits in the parlor in the meantime,” Criella signed. “From his conversation with the servants, he intends to bring the matter to you after you eat breakfast. Also, May ratted you out for being in the kitchen again.”
Luther sighed. That was Wulfric, following protocol and procedure when common sense suggested it might be more prudent to do otherwise. Then again, perhaps it was Lady Althea’s fault for not confiding her business, whatever it might be, to Wulfric. Was it vain for him to hope that she was another suitor?
“Do you know why she was in a hurry to get here?” Luther asked, signing his question to Criella.
Criella shrugged, turning her hands out in the universal “I don’t know” gesture.
“Are you going to tell me what’s going on?” Helena asked, breaking the silence of the room. “You’re being rude.”
“Criella has informed me we have a visitor waiting,” Luther said. “Should we see who?”
Helena groaned. “It’s too early for visitors. Besides, we’re leaving today. This arrival had better not delay our plans even further.”
“It won’t,” Luther said, his voice adamant as he stood.
Helena’s eyes trailed the droplets that caressed his body from his shoulders, over his chest, along his abdomen, until they reached the crease of his abdominal belt and descended lower. She bit her lip. “How long do you have before it’s rude?”
“Long enough to get dressed,” Luther said, chuckling at Helena’s frown. “You’re the one who said to behave.”
“You were a fool to listen to me,” Helena said, shaking her head. “Can’t you recognize a challenge when you hear it?”
“Are you coming?” Luther asked as he stood.
“You go ahead. I need a good scrub. Not all of us can geomance our way clean.” She glanced at the dirt surrounding the floor drain.
Luther nodded. “I’ll see you downstairs?”
“Of course,” Helena said. “We’re dressing for travel today, right?”
“Right,” Luther said, his eyes on Helena’s breasts. “I’m hoping to penetrate deep into the mountains before nightfall.”
Helena laughed, splashing the water toward him without trying to hit him. “Go on, wake Rhosyn before you go downstairs. She was still snoring when I left her.”
Luther nodded and signed for Criella to follow him. She moved through the door ahead of him without waiting for him to open it. Luther dried himself with the hanging towel and wrapped it around his waist.
He nodded toward Eira, still in her chair by the fireplace, as he passed into his apartment. Criella followed him, but hesitated and didn’t enter his bedchamber. Luther looked over his shoulder, nodding toward the door. Criella shook her head and turned away, walking through the wall and returning to the common room.
Luther sighed. He didn’t blame her, but he wished she and Rhosyn would cease to be at odds. He pushed into his room and let his eyes travel to the center of the wide bed at the far end. Rhosyn, identical to Eira with her dark hair, pale skin, and coltish limbs, remained sprawled in the bed, asleep beneath the blankets.
Luther knelt on the bed to reach her, crawling toward her, then running his fingers through her hair.
“Wake up, my lady, everyone else has risen to start their day,” Luther whispered, keeping his voice soft but firm.
“Mm?” Rhosyn grunted without opening her eyes and rolled over, curling herself into a ball on her side.
“There’s tea, coffee, and cakes, and the kitchens have made breakfast downstairs,” Luther said.
Rhosyn grumbled. The only word he made out was “sleep.”
“Breakfast,” Luther argued.
“Sleeeeeep,” Rhosyn whined, pulling the blanket over her ear.
“As you wish, but if I were you, I’d stay beneath the blanket. I have to summon Wyll to help me dress, or poor Wulfric will have a fit,” Luther said.
Rhosyn pulled the blankets over her head and ignored him as he left the bed. He chuckled, walking to the window and opening the curtains to let in the morning sunlight. It filled the room as it burst inside, and he pulled the cord by the fireplace next, summoning Wyll. He finished drying and laid his towel over the back of a chair before he wandered into the closet and pulled on his underclothes.
Wyll arrived a minute later. “Good morning, my lord!”
“Good morning again,” Luther said. “Were you in the training room practicing your sword forms?”
“No, my lord,” Wyll said. “I was in the kitchen. The manor is buzzing this morning, preparing for your departure.”
Luther nodded and stepped onto the small raised circle before his mirrors, and the dressing process began. He’d long since lost the battle over dressing himself, but today was the last day in a while for Wyll to carry out his duties as Luther’s valet.
Unlike his usual business attire of a tailcoat and trousers, he dressed in his traveling clothes. Well-worn boots, sturdy trousers, a vest over his shirt, and a traveling duster coat. He left the coat by the side, not needing it while indoors.
“Feels good?” Wyll asked, gesturing to the fit of the trousers and the vest. His clothes had been undergoing adjustments with the added muscle he’d packed on over the winter.
“They feel good,” Luther said, rotating his shoulders and swinging his arms. “Sword belt?”
“Here, sir,” Wyll said, putting it over his hips under his coat.
Luther rested his hand on the pommel of his sword, testing the grip and the draw before sheathing the blade again. “Perfect. Thank you, Wyll.”
“Of course, my lord,” Wyll said, bowing. “Is there anything else?”
“How good are you at throwing buckets of water over ladies who refuse to leave their beds in the morning?” Luther asked, looking behind him at the lump beneath the blankets.
“Uh,” Wyll stammered. “I’d never, sir. My father says that women are like cats.”
“Like cats?” Luther asked, wondering what the second half of the joke was.
“In that you disturb their slumber at your peril,” Wyll said.
Luther laughed, clapping Wyll on the shoulder. “Your father is a strange but wise man,” he said, unable to disagree or refute the point.
“I could have a maid wake her?” Wyll offered.
“Never mind, I’ll let Eira or Helena rouse her,” Luther said. “I did my best, but short of pulling the mattress from under her, it’s no use.”
“Very good, sir,” Wyll bowed and left the room, with Luther following him out.
“Did we receive a challenge?” Eira asked, teasing Luther as he left his apartment, and her eyes dropped to the sword on his hip.
“No,” Luther said. “But I prefer to prepare for unexpected battles when I travel, especially into the wilderness.”
“He has a point,” Jowangshin said, standing by the door and wearing her traveling robes. She’d girded the loose, flowing red skirt of the robe around her thighs, revealing her calves and forearms on her lean, muscular frame. She tied her long black hair into a braid that arched from the top of her head to the base of her spine.
“I see you’re ready,” Luther said, admiring her traveling shoes that were like his boots, worn-in and functional rather than the typical finery they wore as lords and ladies.
“Yes,” Jo said. “So is Criella, and the horses. Emily has collected everything you need from the library. Helena is dressing now. We can have our breakfast, say our goodbyes, and depart.”
“There’s only one obstacle in that path,” Eira said, not looking up from her cup of tea where she sat. “We have a visitor waiting.”
Jo looked at Eira and raised an eyebrow. “Did I miss a visit from Wulfric?”
“No,” Eira said, not explaining further.
Luther looked at Jo, who took a deep breath and nodded. She’d long ago come to terms with Eira’s gift for understatement and her arcanum of divination, seeing into the future. Though in this instance, Luther didn’t believe she’d had to tap into their shared pool of magical power.
“And another hurdle: Rhosyn refuses to leave the bed,” Luther said. “Eira, would you be so kind?”
“Why not rouse her the way you do me?” Jo asked. “I felt you practicing and woke to quite the predicament this morning. Helena had to help me reach my release.”
Luther didn’t apologize. “Rhosyn and I don’t have the same arrangement,” he reminded her. “If I so much as brush against her spirit without her explicit agreement, she lashes out with her arcanum first and asks questions later.”
Jo winced, and Luther nodded to see that she understood. He still remembered the pain of Rhosyn lashing out with her psychomancy the last time he’d attempted to use one of her spells. They’d recovered, but Rhosyn still refused to teach him. She remained adamant that he not use her arcanum to try to communicate with Criella.
“I’ll wake her,” Helena said as she stepped out of her apartment with her maid close behind her. The maid disappeared through the same panel Wyll had taken. Helena wore her traveling suit as well, following Luther’s lead. The jacket, vest, and trousers weren’t her usual fare, but she showed no discomfort in wearing them. Her leather boots smelled of fresh oil treatment, and the sword on her hip was larger than Luther’s.
“Be gentle with her,” Eira said. “She’s exhausted, poor thing. Luther paid too much attention to her last night.”
Helena laughed. “He gave you just as much attention, and you don’t appear exhausted.”
“I recuperate with my tea,” Eira said, raising her teacup and sipping it. “But even I stayed awake too late last night.”
“Everyone did,” Jowangshin said. “But we won’t see you for weeks if your journey goes well.”
Eira smiled. “It’ll be strange to be apart.”
“But at least we can stay in contact through Rhosyn,” Helena said. “If she wakes up.”
“And Luther can always teleport back if there’s an emergency. It’s not as if his keeping Criella’s arcanum is a secret,” Eira added.
“It’s not too late for you and Rhosyn to join us,” Luther said. “I can always leave Wulfric in charge.”
“Wulfric is a butler, not a lord,” Jowangshin said. “He can’t do your job and his.”
“No, it’s best that Rhosyn and I stay,” Eira said.
Luther nodded, accepting defeat. He didn’t like the idea of the union being apart, but they had ways to communicate and travel to one another if necessary. “I’ll head downstairs,” he said, kissing Eira as he passed her. “The rest of you follow as you’re able. It’s time I faced our unknown visitor.”
They nodded, and Luther left them behind him as he entered the hallway and strode toward the stairs. He descended them and noticed Wulfric waiting for him at the bottom before he’d touched the first step.
“Good morning, sir,” Wulfric said, nodding. “Would you prefer breakfast now, or do you wish to wait for the others?”
“Soon,” Luther said, nodding. “But first, I should greet our guest and welcome her so she can join us for the meal.”
Wulfric raised an eyebrow. “You know?”
“Yes,” Luther said.
“Were you expecting her?” Wulfric asked. “You didn’t inform me of any expected guests, and she is under the impression that you didn’t know she was coming.” Luther recognized an accusation when he heard one.
“No, I wasn’t expecting her,” Luther said. “But please, introduce me first so she might join us for breakfast. I’m sure she hasn’t eaten yet. Where is she? In the parlor?”
“Yes, sir,” Wulfric said. “But with a visitor arriving this early, they should wait until after breakfast to conduct their business with you.”
“I understand,” Luther said. “Let’s ignore that, shall we?”
“Shall we, sir?” Wulfric asked. “If you make an exception, others will expect you to make the exception for them and take it as disrespect if you do not. People will continue to bring you their problems before breakfast, plaguing you and hoping for quick solutions. It is better to maintain decorum and policy than to toss them aside.”
“I understand,” Luther said. “Thank you, Wulfric.”
Wulfric straightened. “Of course, sir.” He gestured for Luther to lead the way into the dining room.
Luther and Wulfric both stood, waiting for the other to move first.
“You still want me to introduce you to her now, sir?” Wulfric asked.
“I think that’s a splendid idea, Wulfric. It gives us the perfect opportunity to invite her to breakfast and show generosity toward our visitor,” Luther said. “Besides, I don’t know what her business is with me. So, I can’t say whether it will violate the ‘no business before breakfast’ rule set by our elders and sacred to our way of life, now can I?”
Wulfric sighed. It was the deep sigh of an elderly man who had spent years perfecting the sound of exasperated disappointment in the younger generation.
“As you wish, sir.” He turned away from Luther, taking another deep breath and letting his shoulders fall as he preceded Luther into the parlor. The high walls had large windows with their curtains pulled back, looking out into the garden. The lady he’d met outside looked out over the grounds as if searching for someone. Whichever face she sought, she didn’t see it among the gardener and his apprentice working on the lawn.
Wulfric cleared his throat. “Lady Althea Raphael, if you’d be so kind as to forgive the breach of protocol, please allow me to present his lordship, Luther Le Fey.”
Althea turned when Wulfric began speaking. Her eyes scanned the older man from foot to face. It wasn’t until he spoke the name that her eyes peered over his shoulder and found Luther. He kept a straight face as she studied him and didn’t even grin when her eyes flared wide. He tipped forward from the waist in a slight bow out of courtesy.
“I am so glad to make your acquaintance,” Luther said, stepping forward. “Thank you, Wulfric. Please set another plate for breakfast. You will join us, won’t you, Lady Raphael?”
“Yes, Sir,” Wulfric said, bowing and backing out of the room, leaving them alone, except for the servants who stood nearby.
Althea, for her part, said nothing. She couldn’t. At least not until she closed her mouth.