Maid with Necromancy

Bea.

“I don’t know why you’re hiding in the closet. I don’t know why I can tell that you’re hiding in a closet, but please come out, Bea.”  Gustov pleaded.

Humans, so whiny.  Bea knew why she was staying in the closet and why the young necromancer could tell where she was. He was a young necromancer growing into his power, probably level five and acclimating to her presence, even using magic on her in a wild sense. Adjusting to new skills always brought quirks. The damage also had undead energy leaking from her, and it was fortuitous that Threnody was out setting up a school in the city.

Bea was staying  here because up until this point, it was deemed the best option available. The damage sustained from defeating Fossil could not be easily repaired, as the perfect face covering her skull had split, exposing much of the bone on her left side. Then there were the fractures and connective tissue rips. It was one thing to be undead, and a whole other thing to have the shuffling limp associated with the weakest of their kind. How would that reflect on Savior White?!

“I’ve been working night shifts and find this spot a good place to rest during the day. I find tight-filled spaces comforting. All of which is information that is unnecessary for you to fulfill your duties to House White. Which is what you should be doing.” Bea responded coldly through the door.

It’s not that she didn’t want to be active during the day. Only a short period of time was needed each day to focus and restore energy to function. It would be less if they were further away from Hazeldown, as Old Bones sucked up the power of the death and dying even this far out, so she had to compete. The more people who saw her, the more questions there would be.

The small box in her pocket ached to be used as a solution to all her problems. Their reward had been individual items, tiny boxes with each of their names, even the Dig Boy, Cole, had a small pouch of posthumous gold to be returned to his family. Ambrosia had used an inspection skill on the small gray powdery chunk in the box.  -Undead Advancement Biscuit-  Consuming it was sure to repair her and produce benefits that would improve her more than swallowing dozens of gnomes. But it wasn’t hers; it belonged to Lady White. Everything was Whites to decide; be it biscuits, or life and death.

“Until I know that you're safe, my duties mean nothing!” Gustov yelled.

Bloody humans. Bea donned the half-mask given to her by Ambrosia to cover her ruined face. Pulled on black silk gloves to cover where she punched so hard and so often that the bone was exposed. And with a shuffle to her gait, she unlocked and threw open the door to the supply closet that had been her home.

Gustov, standing face pressed to the door, was thrown aside.

Three limping strides to the boy, and Bea bent down with a popping creak, grabbed him by the collar, and lifted him up. “You will do your job. Because that is how you will prove your worth to me. My Lady White will see to my condition once she returns from the games, as I have a gift for her. You do well, and I’ll even give you one of those silly things the other maids talk about giving boys. A kiss, they’re always talking about how that is what boys want. But you will not shirk, or no—kiss—for—you.”

With undead strength, she tossed him down the hall. She’d seen him fight and knew what kind of blows he could take. She turned around and shuffled back into the dark closet and slammed the door shut. The maids said that boys would do stupid, sometimes heroic things for kisses, may that be enough to have him leave her alone. He was right that she’d spent too much time in the closet; Ambrosia could find her more work to do.

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