Clack!

The scales tilted and spilled. It was Walter's turn.

The worry she endured felt like a slug climbed up her back. Everyone in the church stared at her as she sprung up and bolted out of the service.

Until now, weights dropped on his side of the scales when she issued a verbal command.

She let her guard drop. Her time outside of a rigid military organization let her relax. Walter suffered because of her laziness.

I should have forced him to tilt the scales this morning. What was I thinking?

She noticed Walter power-walking on the side of the road. He crossed the street, cutting off a cart.

"Walter!"

Fortunately, the cart's driver reared in the horse. He cussed at Walter, and, in retaliation, flicked him with the riding crop. Walter didn't flinch or respond. He singlemindedly marched forward and ignored everyone that bumped him.

When Walter saw Elin, he beamed, "Let's go to church. I'll convert."

He grabbed her by the arm and half-walked-half-dragged her.

"We don't have to!"

"We do."

"Walter, stop!" Elin yanked her arm from his grip.

He froze, turned, and stared at her.

So did the crowd around them.

When she looked in his eyes, she realized it was much worse than she thought. He was still conscious and trapped in a runaway body.

When a constable notices, we're going to have to explain what's going on. If he figures out Walter is under mind-control magic, then we might be jailed.

She put on a smile and wrapped her hand around his arm, "Let's go back to the inn."

Fortunately, they lost the crowd's attention when she put on airs of a lover's spat.

"Didn't you want me to go to church?" His tone was accusatory and confused.

"No," she said. Her voice dropped, "Walk to the Pilgrim's Folly."

"Sure. Anything you want."

The suggestion failed, but the command worked.

Her stomach knotted, "I'm sorry, Walter. I know it's horrible, bear with it."

She could feel his struggle for autonomy. Under his skin were two people, himself, and an uncanny facsimile of a person. The more they walked, the more Walter fought it, and the more unusual his movements became.

"Walter, please, listen," Elin leaned in to whisper, "I vowed to keep you safe, and I will. But you have to let this happen. I'll take care of you. Trust me."

The wobble vanished from his stride.

Elin stopped the two of them in front of the innkeeper, and said, "If things get loud, don't worry about it."

The innkeeper's mustache twitched, "Show some modesty, young lady. We have rules here. The Pilgrim's Folly is a temple-sponsored business, not a prostitute's den."

She clenched her teeth but smiled, anyway, "Maintain our privacy, or I'll put in a complaint with Priestess Evelyn."

The innkeeper grimaced, "Whatever. Do what you want, but don't think I can't pull strings, either."

Elin led Walter to their room upstairs and locked the door.

She discovered the atmosphere was intoxicating. For once, Walter stood up straight. With his slouch gone, he was taller than she assumed. More than that, he looked her in the eye without fidgeting.

He'll do whatever I want. No, stop that way of thinking right now, it's a residual from the aphrodisiac spell. I lost my candidacy over this, and there's no reason to lose anything else.

The two of them stood there.

"Sit down," she said, and he thumped down right in the middle of the floor. She covered her mouth to trap in the laughter, "No, sit down on the bed."

His chest wavered like he continuously swallowed hiccups. The spell hijacked even his breath. If ordered, he could hold it until he passed out.

She took his hand, "If you keep fighting it, you'll hurt yourself. You, the real you, have to give in."

It's not working.

"Stop being stubborn," she said, sitting next to him. After a moment of internal deliberation, she said, "Alright."

She laid down on the bed, her back propped up by the headboard, then said, "Lay down on top of me."

He wedged himself between her knees, hugged her close, and brought his face an inch from hers.

"Not like that!" she shrieked, "Turn over! Face away from me! Don't you have cuddling where you're from?!"

Without a doubt, the innkeeper heard that one.

After some fidgeting, she directed him where and how she wanted him. He leaned against her, with his head on her shoulder. Once he stilled, she stroked his hair, and the hiccups stopped.

"Don't get any weird thoughts. I'm just trying to help."

His body subtly twisted, and his limbs tightened. Is he fighting again?

No, it's a denial.

"You're right. I shouldn't have said that. I owe you for being a gentleman about it so far, and it's your idea about the scales that made things easier. It is helping, right?"

His chest swelled. Is he trying to state approval?

"Can you fall asleep? If you can, the moment will pass without you noticing."

No response.

"Give it a try. Close your eyes."

Elin didn't know the exact moment Walter fell asleep, but she noticed when the mind control abruptly stopped. The rigidity of his body ended quickly enough for him to fall limp, and the movement almost made him jerk awake. She could tell the exertion overtaxed his already strained muscles and thought it was for the best he missed out on the worst part.

Gradually, his ragged breathing evened up.

"Pleasant dreams."

Click.

Elin muttered, "I hope you pulled a muscle, though."