"Look, all I'm saying is that the whole point of a villainess is to make the heroine shine brighter. The crueler, the more wretched she is, the deeper her despair, the greater the heroine gets to be. Doesn't that seem a little too pathetic to you?"

"Not really. If that's her role, isn't that all there is to it? Not like I've spent that much of my existence reading trashy romance fiction but isn't the whole point of each character to play the role the author envisions?"

"Sure, but those characters need to be well written to matter and throwaway characters who exist just to be stomped on by the plot? Isn't that pretty lousy?"

"Maybe, but so what? Really not getting why you're so worked up over this."

"And I don't get why you're not worked up at all. Flimsy characters make for flimsy stories. And why wouldn't I object to that?"

"... this is ridiculous," Cammie finally threw her hands up. "You've been bitching about this stuff for half an hour. Don't you want to do something that's actually relaxing?"

Len let out a loud laugh at that.

"Are you kidding? This is the most fun I've had in ages."

"Bitching about characters in books I'll never read and drawing weak parallels between those characters and the woman who definitely tried to kill you once and probably is trying to do so again?"

"Absolutely! Don't you get it, I'm talking about something that doesn't matter in the least with one of the people who is closest to me, admittedly somewhat by default. How can I not be having fun."

"And the people in the world you're from... this is normal?"

"Yup."

"I think I'd very much like to avoid visiting your world if at all possible."

"Well, don't know what to tell you on that front. Arcane summoning rituals notwithstanding, I really don't know how that would even work. Setting aside the depressingly real possibility that I'm never going home, I don't really know if you're tied to my mind or my body or whatever nebulous nonsense actually qualifies as a soul. Will the real Lenore be stuck with you if and when I go back? How does any of this stuff work?"

"How am I supposed to know. They didn't exactly cover this in orientation."

"You had shadow demon orientation?"

"Of course not, don't be ridiculous. I'm just borrowing phrases from your mind."

"Naturally. How silly of me not to consider that. Honestly, I'm not sure what's creepier about this arrangement we've got. The fact that you can easily do things like that or that it doesn't even bother me anymore. Not sure how much of that's thanks to Pitch's apparent ability to tinker with my mind and I should probably be freaking the hell out about that but can't seem to bring myself to care."

"Eh, for what it's worth, I'm pretty sure that Pitch is talking nonsense on that for the most part. You're worried about that awareness thing he unlocked?"

"Of course I am! I don't want to know how my words are going to affect people at that level. I don't want that kind of responsibility?"

"Then ignore it," Cammie shrugged.

"I can't just ignore something that's become an instinct! Hell, that's not even the point. He shouldn't have been able to do that in the first place. Certainly not without my consent."

"Well, you probably gave it to him when you fist made the contract."

"What? I wouldn't have?"

"I don't know what to tell you. You're right, we can't do things without at least some basic level of consent. If you're saying he just went ahead and did it, he had to have gotten that permission in advance. What were the terms of your contract?"

"I don't remember!" Len snarled. "That's the damn thing, I remember the start of the conversation, but nothing about the specifics of the agreement we came to. Apparently that was another part of the agreement."

"Oof. Bad call on that one. He must have really had you over the barrel."

"Things were pretty grim, I'll admit," she stuck her head under the water for a moment and soaked, enjoying a moment of solitude that Cammie was polite enough not to interrupt. "Still, I'd like to think that I wasn't so careless that I gave him free reign. Wish I could know the specifics but even if I can't, it's actually a relief to know that there are still some ground rules going on here, even if Pitch is able to manipulate them to an extent."

"It's what I'm here for, boss," Cammie said in that creepily cheerful tone that she liked adopting. "Setting your mind at ease!"

"Welp, that's over and done with. I think I've soaked here long enough, you good?"

"You realize that I'm just faking the appearance of bathing with you for the hell of it, right? I'm not actually in the bath with you."

"Right, right. Silly me. So you're good?"

"Yeah, boss. I'm good."

"Great! Let's get moving. With luck they'll let me put my own clothes back on."

They did not, in point of fact, let her put her clothes back on. Those clothes had been taken to be washed and she was provided with an elegant gown that was a touch more expensive looking than she preferred but given that her choices seemed to be wearing it, strutting around in her birthday suit, or staying here until her clothes were cleaned, it was the only option that worked for her.

She began her trek back to Balar's residence in surprisingly high spirits. In her head, she always understood how much of an effect even basic acts of caring for oneself could benefit one. It wasn't a hard concept to grasp. The problem was that life had a way of convincing you to ignore those little acts of care in favor of spending a bit more time doing a task that wasn't nearly as healthy for some benefit that may or may not even be real. In her case, the trap was always overworking herself. Sure, it seemed ridiculous to compare her current work of managing a city and preparing for a war that had to be coming soon to her time managing spreadsheets and answering emails from shitty coworkers who just loved pawning their work off on her while complaining that she didn't do enough... where was she going with this thought? Ah, right, self-care. Very important.

She chuckled and observed the streets around her. Night had fallen and she got to enjoy the lamplight in all its glory. Electricity wasn't a thing she'd seen in this world, but magic filled so many of the niche purposes that her old world had looked to science for. The lamps here were a clear example of that. They weren't connected to anything that she could recognize but each sled had their own pair of lanterns that all turned on at a set time. Maybe it was some mass enchantment or maybe there was a guy whose entire job was to run around fine tuning the things. This was information that she could easily get but she enjoyed the mystery and wouldn't have it sullied by factual knowledge.

The city itself was still a mess. Work had begun on reclaiming and restoring the damaged sleds, removing vermin, cleaning the things out. It was long and busy work, but folks seemed up to the task, it would just take time. She felt rather pleased to see the actual effects of all the orders she'd been signing, it almost felt like they were making progress, slow though it might be. What mattered most was the consistency, refusing to accept that it was too much to handle and to actually do the work. Preferably she'd avoid relying on temporal manipulation that probably risked her sanity and definitely risked her health but that was a worry for another time.

She almost missed it in her relative bliss and relaxation. The soft sound of running feet coming from behind her. Cammie hadn't noticed it at all, or had chosen not to inform her (though that seemed unlikely) and only reacted when Len whirled to see what was coming for her. It was a lone assailant, dagger held low as they charged. If they were at all surprised that she'd noticed them, they didn't show it as they aimed to plunge their blade into her gut. Instinct kicked in almost before she realized what was happening.

With no way to tell if the blade was poisoned, she couldn't afford to risk getting cut. Reaching out her hand she willed Cammie into a cane sword and lashed out at her attacker. While they'd responded admirably to her noticing them, they didn't react quite as calmly when a sword appeared out of the ether and bit into their hand, causing them to drop their blade.

"So, what's this, then? Some local who doesn't like the change of things or are you one of Claymar's thugs? Please don't tell me you're someone I know, that'd mean I'm a poorer judge of character than I thought and it'd spoil my mood."

The assassin didn't respond, simply bounding backwards out of reach of Len's blade to draw their own, a wickedly serrated thing that looked as much saw as sword. Nothing good would come of letting that hit her. Since banter seemed useless she chose not to waste any more time on it, instead dropping down to scoop up the knife that her would-be killer had dropped. It held no markings that she could discern but she could tell that it was coated in some sort of sticky substance that she probably didn't want to touch.

The problem, Len considered as her foe lashed out at her, was that she wasn't a sword fighter. She could fake it to a certain extent, but all she was really doing here was trying to buy time for some other thought to occur to her. The obvious choice was to just have Cammie poison the attacker. It might not be sporting or even satisfying, but it'd end things quickly. The problem with that was that it meant relying on the shade's powers. Sure, there was some semantics to be had over whether or not summoning a shadowy sword was relying too much on those powers, but at least she could maintain some separation between them in her head. Actively relying on that power was a line too far. She didn't have time to dwell on it, though, because the assassin was upon her.

The strikes were fast and intended to be lethal, swiping at vulnerable bits without mercy. Len was just fast enough to keep ahead of them, always managing to get her blade in the way before it could reach her. The assassin would then rake the blade violently along the length of Len's sword, apparently looking to dull it. It was pointless thanks to the nature of the blade, but it was also probably muscle memory that the assassin was working against. Less encouraging was the fact that she was already losing ground. She'd not been getting that many opportunities for physical activity since assuming the duties of Head and she'd been losing endurance even before she'd spent what felt like 48 consecutive hours awake. It wasn't a great sign of things to come if she didn't find some way to turn the momentum around in her favor.

She considered attacking with the dagger but decided that it was best to try and take this attacker alive. The odds that the blade was coated with some non-fatal poison weren't great enough that she was tempted to risk it. Still, it wouldn't do to have it too readily available, so she chucked it under the sled to her left. The action almost cost her her life as the assassin lashed out again at the opening she'd given them. It was only by luck and reflex that she managed to block the attack with her sword.