“This breaks physics.”

Sitting on the large plush bed, legs crossed, Rick kept glaring at the book about ‘alchemy’ that he’d been provided by the maids as a “loan” from the Earl.

“How so, sir?” Dia, leaning into his shoulder, had been glancing at the book.

“Here.” He pointed at the formula that’d been written down on the yellowed pages. “It lists that the total mass changed. In a sealed environment.”

“Well, yes. Metal-based elemental energy interacts differently with an elemental stone than with a piece of wood.” She pointed at the start of the formula. “The properties of the elemental stone barely changed, but the wood gained weight.”

“Mass doesn’t just…” Rick rubbed at the bridge of his nose. “Where does the weight come from? Does elemental energy have weight?”

“Sometimes?”

“So if a maiden just goes and uses a lot of that elemental energy, her weight abruptly goes down?”

Dia giggled. “Oh no, that would be crazy.”

He could feel the start of a migraine. “I think I’m going to need to look at the fundamentals. Is there any… alchemy… book that’s more basic than this?”

“I will ask, but I think this is as basic as it goes, sir.” She nodded with a wry smile. “Does chemistry work differently where you come from?”

“This isn’t chemistry, it’s…” He closed the book and sighed. “Science is something you can replicate consistently. It’s trying to figure out the building blocks and how they mesh. And this… this feels like I’m looking at an art book on how to draw. Except I don’t have any brushes.”

“But you have me, sir. And the kitten who must not be named lest she wake up.”

They both glanced to the side. Monica was curled up in a ball and sleeping soundly.

“I know you’re trying to make it sound reassuring, but it doesn’t mesh well with me.” Rick said. “It’s… to make alchemy I have to get my hands on a maiden with the elemental energy I want to use? And she must be talented enough to be consistent with her output? And… none of this really explains what elemental energy is. Not as an actual fundamental force.”

“I’m sorry, sir, I can’t give you a proper answer either.” She placed her hand on his knee. “I could tell you what lack or excess of elemental energy does to a body, of some of the more common afflictions pertaining to this, and the basics for healing spell casting, but…”

Monica’s ears perked up, her head rose, turning to the door. Two seconds after, there was a soft knock. Rick glanced at the Sabertooth, gauging her current mood. She wasn’t alert, merely curious, which had to mean whomever was knocking wasn’t perceived as a threat.

“Come in.”

The door creaked open, and a mousy woman stepped inside. With a pale complexion and gray hair, the maiden looked older than her peach-shaped face would have otherwise shown. She took a single step inside, barely enough to close the door behind her, and immediately stiffened like a board. Even if her eyes and ears were aimed directly at Rick, it was clear she could feel Monica’s presence.

“The Earl invites you to a boar hunt, sir.”

“Hunt?” Monica perked further, fully sitting up and glancing between Rick and the mouse.

Rick kept his lips locked into a passive expression. “When would it be?”

“In five days, sir. The Earl understands you may not have the proper apparel, and has offered calling for a seamstress.” She shifted ever so slightly. “Unless sir intends to head out to the city?”

“Oh god no.” The words slipped out of his mouth before he could stop them. He quickly shook his head. “No, no, just… thank the Earl for his offer. I would appreciate having the seamstress brought here. And thank you.”

“Of course, sir.”

She turned to leave, softly closing the door behind her.

“Huh.”

“What is it, sir?”

“She’s the first one that didn’t run.”

“You think she might come back?” Dia chuckled.

“Honestly, I hope so. Monica needs to get accustomed to… people.”

“Sir, with all due respect, you’ve spent most of your time locked inside this singular room. This is not a great example.” Her tone had a slight humor to it, her finger poking his shoulder. “I may soon have to invoke concern for your health so I can drag you outside.”

“I know…” He shook his head. “And Monica is only going to take so long before she starts becoming bored with the monotony. We should start thinking about how to handle the hunting thing.”

Monica approached the bed, glancing down at him with a frown. “Rick hunt?”

“She looks giddy… why does she look giddy about that?”

“She looks like normal.”

“No, no, look at the tail.” Rick gestured. “It’s flicking. She flicks it when she’s giddy.”

Monica frowned, crawling onto the bed and poking him with her claw. “Rick. Hunt?” She asked more insistently.

“Alone.”

She quirked a brow and snorted. “No.”

“It’s not something you can argue, Monica. You can’t just ghost me everywhere.”

“Rick no hunt alone. Hurt.”

“I get that. It’s not like I have a choice.”

Dia giggled. Both Rick and Monica glared at her. “Monica doesn’t know half the words you are using, sir, but she’s clearly understanding your intentions.”

“I think it’s the bond. It helps… somewhat.” His shoulders slumped. He glanced at Monica. “Boar hunt. Only a boar, nothing else. Just…”

“Rick soft. No hunt alone.” Another poke.

“Small hunt.”

“No. Rick hurt.”

This time she poked the center of his chest, and he could only wince as he felt more than saw Dia’s expression darken.

“Sir?”

“It’s nothing, just a scare when she got a bit rough.”

“Sir!?” She raised her voice now. “Monica got rough!?”

“Not that kind. She got a bit tough, and I just had a thing.”

“Is this… oh, this is when I started feeling horrible all of a sudden!” Dia’s eyes widened. “I spent an hour doing self-diagnosis when I should have run over here! You should have told me, sir!”

“Rick no hunt alone.”

Monica’s poke knocked him onto his back, the two now leveling determined anger his way. He laid on his back, frowning. His lips parted as he tried to form the proper words to the two scowls aimed at him. Slowly he glanced between Dia and Monica. He could actually feel their concern. If he didn’t pay close attention, he might have mistaken it for his own. With a deep sigh, he just closed his eyes and leaned further into the bed.

“We have five days to convince Monica to not get in the way.” A sharp inhale. “And if we can’t, then… I don’t know what we’ll do then.”

“Sir?”

“As to what happened to you, I’m sorry I lost control like that. I shouldn’t have allowed it to get that bad.” Opening his eyes again, he moved to the edge of the bed. “I think I’m going to need to take a walk or something.”

“Rick?”

“But I can’t, because Monica clings to me, afraid that I’m going to die or vanish the instant she isn’t within pouncing range.” His brows furrowed. “But we can’t let that keep up.”

When he opened his eyes again, he saw the glares had been replaced with concern. His own gaze moved from Monica to Dia, and then back.

“Fuck it.”

Moving to leave the bed, he slipped his shoes on.

“I’m going to take a walk.”

Two steps towards the door, Monica had intercepted, placing herself between him and the exit.

“I’m going to take a walk. And you are staying.”

He tried to take a step around her, and she made sure to body-block his path to the door.

“Monica protect.”

“Yeah, well, this is Rick protect.”

Monica took a slight step back, confused. He took the chance and stepped around her before she could throw some more questions or, worse, block him. The feline shot him a strange look as he closed the door behind himself. On the bed, Dia looked on with her own concern.

The moment the door closed behind him, Rick took a sharp right and began walking. His mind was running through the number of meters he estimated he’d traversed. Twelve steps, thirty, sixty. It wasn’t until he’d been fully and entirely certain that he’d gotten outside of Monica’s incredible hearing range that he let out a long, withering sigh.

Slumping against the nearest wall, he took a deep breath.

That had been harder than he’d expected.

His heart was beating a mile a minute, even if he wasn’t entirely sure why.

Regardless, now came the harder part. Waiting.