The maid beckoned us to follow her through the corridor after replacing our shoes with indoor flip-flops. As we ambled inside the house, I carried my lady’s shoes in my hands. The passage was remotely familiar, and so was the courtyard we circled, but we walked straight instead of taking the stairs to the first floor. The corridor opened to the rear entrance, and I helped my lady wear her black shoes and forced my own legs inside the shoes without untying the laces.

Ambling around the house wouldn’t have been a problem, but the nobles held prestige in welcoming the ones they held in high regard, so this ceremony was a necessary evil, regardless of my qualms about it. The lawn extended on either side of the pavements, with maids sweeping the leaves that had left the trees naked. The adjacent building wasn’t huge, but there were two distinct establishments: one for guards and the other for horses.

Not that they were any different in the eyes of the undead, but let’s not debate on differing ideologies.

We skipped the guard quarters on the left and walked into the building with an arching roof that curved to a semi-circle on the front. The material of the roof was wood, yet not quite wood because the wood never conferred such flexibility. The soldier stationed outside was decked in a worn-out brown garb that reflected the providence of his household, but the manor hardly had funds left for adornments. He was extremely courteous, nevertheless, and pushed the door open and motioned us inside.

Hay lined around the two sides of the single passage that opened at the second door straight across. Faces of horses, each one different, greeted us with snorts and neighs. They were many, probably close to twenty, that extended in rows in the large stable. Each horse has its own encampments that it didn’t breach, even after getting frightened of undead in the room. Some horses neighed, others tamped on the dingy ground, but some were eating the hay patiently.

I split up from Garlan, who walked left at the first four-way intersection, while I took a right, my lady tagging along, holding my tailcoat. It was her first time in the stables, or probably this close to a horse, and there were terrifying tales about powerful kicks of horse that broke necks of the sturdiest of warriors amongst the noble females. Nothing more than horseshit, without the pun, but as always, some domineering men never liked to see females in good light. Puny mortals they were, acting high and mighty was ingrained in them.

She was fascinated by the vast array of animals, and I smiled as her eyes glittered in the scant light of the mana lamps erected randomly around the stables. The stench was unbearable at times, but my lady didn’t seem to mind when faced with satiating her curiosity.

“That one, mongrel!” she pointed at the calm black horse that was eating the fodder. “He doesn’t seem to be scared of you.”

“That’s a mare, my lady,” I walked closer to the horse, who stared at me for a few seconds before snorting. “A moody one at that.”

“Mare or Stallion doesn’t really make a difference,” my lady walked closer carefully and stood beside him. “She looks sturdy and strong and resembles my hair that you love so much.”

“I don’t love your hair, my lady,” I raised my eye at her. “It’s beautiful, that’s all.”

My lady smiled and extended her hand to pet the mare.

“Don’t!” the guard’s shout echoed in the stable, but he was too late, as my lady’s hand had already reached the crest of the mare, caressing it softly. The mare cradled against her palms playfully, and my lady giggled as the guard rushed to us, sweat dripping from his face. The sight of my lady caressing the mare surprised him, but he genuinely apologized for his retort before ambling to tend to other horses that needed attention.

“We’ll take this one, mongrel!” her smile breached her lips as the horse snuggled against her forehead and nickered. “She feels wonderful.”

When I tried to pet her, the mare snorted and turned her head away. So much for being undead, I sighed. “She doesn’t like me, my lady. We can’t ride her if she won’t even allow me to touch her.”

“Pat, my head first,” my lady turned to me with a smile. “She’ll feel safer that way. I can understand why she dislikes being touched.”

I followed her suggestion without much thought, and much to my surprise, the mare let me touch her. What the hell was going on here? Was this mare designed to become the monster ride of my villainess?

“See?” my lady grinned. “She’s a good mare.”

“She is, my lady,” I returned the smile and ran my hand along the crest of the mare. It had been a long time since I last touched a horse, but the familiarity was unmistakable.

“We’ll come to pick you up tomorrow,” I said, casting [Heal] on her body in an attempt to heal her weak knees and hoots. It did help, and the mares feeling toward me improved tremendously as she nickered at me. “We got a long journey lined up.”

Garlan had picked his own brown stallion that was sturdy enough for him to ride, and he had managed to tame the arrogance of the horse. They were trained really well, but accepting new riders was always a hassle for the horses. Nevertheless, we had our rides, and Garlan knew the inns along our journey inside out, so a one-night stay was all we needed to reach the port.

“Should we leave today, Rudolf?” Garlan asked as we stepped out of the mansion gates. “Mishaps often come unwelcomed, so having a head start is better than having none. Four days is the limit, so a day for sightseeing and visiting my old mates sounds just right.”

I glanced at my lady, who shook her head in exasperation. “Should we dump this mutt on our way?”

“That seems more plausible given the uncharacteristic thinking of my bread lad,” I sighed.

“Well, what’s the point being scared of puny reinforcements? If we drop you in the middle of the battle, everything will be decided in an instant. Probably even the future in days to come. Such a shame you aren’t interested in showcasing your dominance. Just wait until I become a progressive mage. I’ll start doing something worthwhile instead of just stealing a few thousand shins.”

I ignored him and turned to my lady, “What do you say, my lady?”

“We’ll leave tomorrow,” she said after some thought. “I need to pack my clothes, brushes, combs, and a few other essentials. We need to sell more of my mother’s dowry for shins. There’s a lot of work, Rudolf.”

“True,” I bobbed my head. “Unlike Garlan, who doesn’t have qualms about roaming naked, we need to plan out our journey.”

“I certainly don’t, Rudolf,” he rubbed his stubble. “But I didn’t like the way you put it.”

“Sure, bread lad,” I said. “We’ll meet you at Baron mansion tomorrow. Early morning, close to sunrise–“

“I can’t wake up that early, mongrel!” my lady hastily pointed out.

“I’ll help you out, my lady. And [Heal] would do the rest.”

For both of us, because I was bound to get hit a few times. She had changed, so I had some hope that no clouts awaited me tomorrow.

Letitia bit her lips and nodded begrudgingly.

“Sunrise it is, Rudolf.”

“Sunrise it is, Garlan.”

We laughed, mimicking Bayle’s voice, but my lady pulled me along before we stalled any further. Garlan waved at me as he walked away from the market plaza, probably to his regular tavern, to have a good drink before his next mission. I trailed behind my lady once she let of my hand, and she slowed down deliberately to let him walk beside her. My grin earned a few mumbles, and she held my hand, interlacing our fingers, an action that made me feel uncomfortable. I would get used to it, I reasoned, pushing down the uneasiness that she didn’t notice.

The walk back to the mansion had been a peaceful one, and my lady dragged me to her room before I could check up on the damages caused by the hound in my room. Not that it would, but I didn’t trust lower demons. My lady made me sit on the stool beside her bed and rummaged her cupboard before opening the locker on the left shelf. The key dangling from the keyhole clanged on the ground, and she picked them up before plugging them back.

“How about we sell the gold hairpin?” she asked and turned to face me, leaning her back against the compartment dividing the two sides of her closet. “That might fetch us around a thousand shins, despite its small size.”

That was Chantelle’s favorite hairpin, like my lady’s barrette, but I didn’t point it out. I respected her decisions irrespective of the consequences, and once my lady had made up her mind, there was no room for argument. Even if I was undead. Or a cute hound, for that matter.

“Works, my lady,” I said.

“What about clothes? Do I need to take all the frocks?” she held her chin in thought. “I won’t wear the same frock twice without washing, just so you know, mongrel.”

I smiled and wiggled in my seat for comfort. “Two frocks would do, along with your underwear and trousers. I can wash your gowns and trousers–“

“I know,” she glared at me. “Don’t you feel embarrassed to casually talk about your lady’s underpants?”

“I’ve literally watched you grow up, so underpants should be the least of your concern,” I laughed, and she hurled a pillow at me. There were two more in the cupboard, and she followed the assault with a scowl.

She tackled me as soon as the third pillow hit my face, and I cast [Weightless] on her with a grin.

“Bastard!” she cursed with a smile and wrapped her hands around my waist. “Revert me back, mongrel.”

I lifted her up and placed her upright on the floor before ceasing the [Weightless] spell. With her hands on her waist, she ambled back to the closet and removed two frocks–embroidered green and a plain black one that was a new addition to her wardrobe–along with trousers and underwear and threw them in my direction. I sat back on the stool, watching her sort her inventory.

“How are you planning on carrying them, mongrel?”

“Travel bag and [Weightless] spell, my lady. I had already bought it last week but didn’t have a chance to use it till date,” I said, grateful that I hadn’t spent all her money on buying bread.

“The one which you hang over your shoulder?” she asked.

“Yes, the ones that mercenaries usually carry around. Even Garlan carries one, but only on salient missions,” I said, touching my bracelet.

“Would you like to keep a few shins with you, mongrel?”

I thought for a moment before deciding against it. A handicap was always better than none because it made the journey more exciting. And I hated having worldly possessions on me. That’s why I constantly reminded myself of the bracelet, not letting it become an unconscious part of me.

“I’m good, my lady. If I need any, I’ll ask you, but only in multiples of eight shins.”

She smiled and ambled in my direction before wrapping her hands around my neck. “Is that your handicap, Rudolf?”

I patted her head with a grin. “It is. And happy birthday, Letitia.”

“But it’s tomorrow,” she said, confused.

“It’s today, my lady,” I ruffled her hair. “You were born in the night, so lady Chantelle celebrated it the next day. If you had noticed it before, I always wished you in the night, not the next day.”

“Oh,” she was slightly abased, but her grip on my neck tightened. “You were there when I was born?”

“Yes,” I said, thinking back to his memory. “That was my sixth year with lady Chantelle.”

She rubbed her forehead against mine, her free hair tickling my cheeks. “Thank you for coming to me.”

I hadn’t taught her to show gratitude, so I was taken aback. It took a good few moments to get back my rationale.

“You’re welcome, my lady. But I might become the bane of your existence later on.”

“That’s all right,” she ran her hands through my hair. “As as long you belong to me, you can become anything.”