Maid with Necromancy

The rug under Harmony’s left arm twisted with the limited movement available to it while making muffled sounds. She’d adjusted her height until her head nearly touched the tall ceiling to make lugging Max along easier. The spider armor she’d designed, with some flexibility to accommodate size changes, couldn’t handle this much growth. As a result, she was now limited to the adhered bits of Night for coverage. However, feeding that beast did mean the metal plates stretched to cover her better. At this height, she was near the maximum size her vital body would allow.  

“Mmrurgha bwuch!” Max complained in a muffled scream.

“Don’t make me silence you again.” Harmony threatened the rugged-up man.

It was an empty threat, as he was fully contained, as the remaining skills of his profession and class were useless in the predicament he was in, and she wouldn't waste a use of [Final Silence] when it would become absolutely necessary for the next conflict.

Hyacinth hadn’t caught Rosaline’s scent yet. The way Maxwell had been bathed in her, it was clear they’d been in close quarters recently. Probably intimate.

Not that she begrudged Max’s dalliances. You can’t grow up around actors, actresses, stagehands, and after parties without getting a fuller education than you might like about that side of life, regardless of one’s personal interest.

“The best way for girls to get hooks into a man involves…” The quote from Fel, back in the maid’s changing room, felt like it happened years ago, not months.

It aligned with Pappi Viner’s and Muthu’s additional information on the ways one could pass unfathomable influence. Such tactics felt unbecoming of the princessly heir, but many of the woman’s behaviors had exceeded Harmony’s personal thresholds even if she’d been nudged in that direction.

The rug jerked under her arm as they dashed to the end of the hall to meet a new set of stairs that led up. So much fighting for someone who was also dying. Not as quickly as Saccerate, but probably wouldn't last the week without intervention, and not the pour a healing potion down his throat kind.

The original plan was to corner Maxwell and, after double-checking if Saccerate was involved, rip the foreign influence out of him. Adric holding the spirit prison additionally complicated matters. The scarring inside the man was extensive, without the problem of swapping out metaphysical energies, or that the chaos spirit was so weak she’d die if they tried to shove the cage back in, assuming that was even possible. Pappi’s ramblings were actually useful for making slightly informed decisions.

“The only successful removal of unfathomables requires unlinking joint participants in close proximity.” One of Muthu’s many bits of advice to seal the deal of his passageway out of the Games.

​

With the addition of Jenny Bristle, the home of the Ascendant is full.  The first social competition starts in the morning. Rest well!

Harmony kept her cursing silent. One ally was better than none, but the kind of metaphysical surgical guidance Milo brought with Pappi would have been ideal. There was also no way she’d wait until the morning. Saccerate might have stabilized slightly by being in closer proximity to the rolled up Max, but there was no guarantee she’d survive through the night.

The second set of stairs brought Harmony up to a grassy garden, a conservatory under glass,the kind of greenhouse those really wealthy sometimes talked about. Fruit trees and edible plants decorated the mostly dark landscape. Only glowstone-lined paths lit the way.

None of that mattered. Her  necromantic senses latched onto an undead in the distance. “Hargreaves is  this way, follow me.”  Jumping off the path, Harmony moved to make a straight line towards the servant who would get her to Princess Rosaline.

It was harder than anticipated. Having a giantess’s size while hauling a large rug-wrapped man through trees and bushes without tangling himself or her  hitting her head on low-hanging branches stressed [Style and Grace] and [Poise and Bearing]. Included in this was her mind playing tricks on her because spaces that were an easy squeeze before now took a great deal of work to go into. But she was getting closer.

Even stamina only did so much as she twisted and turned ahead with her large charge, finally having exhausted his voice into a low, muffled moan from all the twirling and positioning of his woven constraint.  She was sweating and panting as she stepped out from behind a berry bush taller and wider than her, the rug needing to be turned  up like a walking stick to do it, with Max’s head positioned downward.  Even her short hair got tangled with branch bits twisted in it from the travel through the garden in the dark, but at last, there was Hargreaves.

Ahead was a sparser area with a few fruit trees. The undead servant used a glowstone lamp that was at his side as he reached up to pluck fruit for a basket. The  butler looked at ease as he gathered, careful to take each one with a twist of his hand to remove them without any damage to the pears, he added to the basket of oranges and apples.

“White, it looks like you’ve put on a good bit of weight. I don’t recall inviting you to my picnic. Please leave.”  Princess Rosaline’s annoyed voice asked.

And there, spread out on a blanket under a tree, lounged Rose next to a second glowstone lantern, wearing the same high-quality clothing Maxwell had been interrupted changing into, except hers seemed purposely loose to the point of her chest nearly falling out of its fabric. “As surprised as I am that you managed to make it to the final ten, the social competition starts tomorrow.” She continued when Harmony didn’t budge.

Harmony expected herself to come out swinging. She wanted to start with that fight. Yet the lazy, insulting annoyance in flat tones was the only thing being batted her way.  Was it the scry? Did Rose think she’d be afraid of looking the villain in front of those in Hazeldown and the wider world? There had been stories about aristocrats losing their power based on negative opinions, but those were rare.

“You kidnapped Adric.” Harmony started.

The prince who’d been following behind stumbled out beside her.

“And now you have him back. He was free to go sooner if he’d been willing to let go of the anchor that had kept him at my camp. I’d hoped my brother would listen to reason and let me use our ancestors' magic to end the bond he had with you the way Maxwell chose to. That’s not a reason to get all puffed up, while mostly naked and interrupting my night. And what’s with the rug?” Rose complained.

“Max is dying because of what you did.” Harmony countered.

“You’re a necromancer. I wouldn’t expect you to have the skills to tell if anyone living was having any real harm come to them. I’m assured his body will adjust in time. It’s not like I’d purposely let my fiance die.”

“fiancé?”  Harmony felt that like a punch. Not that she had feelings for Max, but that would make the pair's flagrantly intimate relationship appropriate.

“Max’s family is quite well respected. He had a lot of pressure on him to evolve the right way. Even if that ship has sailed. It is an inappropriate match.”

“You ripped out his bond, and Saccerate is dying.”

“That thing has a nasty history of being a problem in the kingdom. I can’t even believe you convinced him to house it in the first place. Why wouldn’t I have my servant remove it? Really, Harmony, you haven’t seemed to care for spirits that much before.  Now, please leave, I’m expecting my lover and future lower-k king to show up any moment.”

It’s not like she was wrong about Saccerate. That guilt had eaten away at her when she’d assumed the spirit was the cause of Max’s issues. But this picnic being for the pair of them, at that news, Harmony nearly dropped the rug, allowing Max to roll out of his prison.

“This isn’t her.” Adric hissed, trying to keep his voice a whisper.

Who is to say this isn’t her? It would be in line with Adric’s other family, like Princess Willow. Closest sibling, yet they weren’t as close as most family members. This wasn’t the competent ranger hiding her royalty on a team delving, but that was a role to play.  Doubts seeped into thoughts.

[Recall] triggered the alarm built in for this situation. Danger! It screamed in her thoughts. Danger! Unfathomable influence was subtler than the blunt hammer of most people's external social skills, like her mother or Hemlock used. It took things that came from a person’s head and strengthened beliefs, raised or silenced concerns, and shaped a person’s experiences until those became their personality.   It also couldn’t be felt until it was inside your soul. Muthu the mimic admired it in that way, one horrific abomination to another.  

“Sorry, Rose. I can’t leave. There is a bleeding mess here that I plan to erase from existence.”  Dropping the rug, Harmony kicked herself forward, ready to act.

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