My Lord! Please! (A Character Driven Kingdom Building Novel)

It had been three days since Cora was brought back from the mana-infused area. She hadn't woken yet, and her condition had shifted between feverish heat and unnatural cold throughout that time.

Unable to remain near her for long, her parents had requested that she stay in one of the manor's guest rooms. They visited nearly every day after their duties because of that. As an Ashridge guard, Will had taken up what was nearly a permanent post in the manor courtyard.

Lucien suspected it was by Dorian's orders, both as a punishment and a small way to give Will a pretext to remain as close to his daughter as possible without showing favoritism among the guards.

Alicia had taken on most of the duties of caring for her, being less affected by the strange effect Cora had on the people around her. With both Sera and Alicia showing that kind of resistance, his theory that their blessings gave them some resistance to mana began to sound more likely.

It was fortunate that a few servants in the manor had some level of resistance as well, or more questions would have been asked about Alicia and Sera.

Leaning back in his chair, he rubbed his temple tiredly before a knock sounded at the door.

He sighed briefly before calling, "Enter."

The door to his study swung open and Elias stepped in, carrying a bundle of parchments.

At the sight of the parchments, Lucien couldn't help but wrap his hands around his usual cup of coffee and take a sip as the steward walked in.

Placing them down on the desk, the elderly man inclined his head. "Here are the latest proposals from the villagers, My Lord."

"Anything interesting so far, Elias?" Lucien asked as he looked through them.

The steward sorted through the pile before drawing one out. "There is one, My Lord. It came from one of the refugees who arrived with the first wave."

He set the sheet beside the parchment Lucien was reading and gestured to it. "The woman who proposed it claims to have some skill in producing it as well, though whether those claims are overstated remains to be seen."

Lucien took it and skimmed the first few lines. To his mild surprise, the proposal came from someone who claimed to know how to make scented soap.

Right now, Ashridge was using a mix of ash lye and animal fat to clean themselves, but it seemed people from the eastern region of the frontier preferred to add herbs for scent.

In hindsight, that fit with what he had observed so far from them. The refugees from the eastern region seemed naturally more particular about cleanliness, a trait that had only become more noticeable after they settled in the village.

Aisha and Zara were the clearest examples, though the same could be seen among many of the others as well.

Lifting his eyes from the parchment, Lucien regarded the steward briefly before he spoke.

"Elias, we use imported soap from the heartlands...is such a craft valuable there? I never paid attention to such things when I was younger."

The steward inclined his head. "Valuable in the proper hands, My Lord, but not rare. The heartlands already have soapmakers of their own, and merchants who carry their wares between cities."

He glanced at the proposal. "If she can produce it reliably, it would be useful within Ashridge. Selling it to the inner regions would be harder, unless the quality or scent is enough to draw notice."

"Your father once showed some interest in such ventures, but he was too often traveling through Arcencia to begin something of that sort himself."

It seemed every time he heard mention of his "father", it was always one outlandish story after another.

Lucien gestured to the proposal. "I see. Then we can keep this one in mind for now. Don't let her assume it has been accepted, but ask her to provide a sample...within the next month, before we start choosing the five proposals."

"Very well, My Lord." Elias took the sheet and rolled it neatly, likely to store it with the batch of potential proposals.

"Keep an eye out for anything like that as well. I trust you know what might be valuable to sell in the inner regions?"

At his words, Elias folded his arms behind him. "Yes, My Lord. Though there have been some strange...requests that might be useful within the village itself. I will bring those to you for consideration first."

The steward looked almost...uncertain as he coughed lightly. "A group of women...from the second wave, I believe, suggested a communal washing house for boiling linens, bedding, and bandages, My Lord."

Lucien's brow lifted at that. "There was one from the second wave already?"

Slowly, Elias inclined his head. "They claim it would drive away humors, if sheets and cloth were washed in boiled water."

When the steward seemed to wait for his reaction, Lucien gestured for him to continue.

This time, the uncertainty on the elderly man's face shifted into something closer to disapproval. "There was also a suggestion that a bathhouse could be built alongside it. I rejected that portion due to the cost of construction."

Elias was not wrong to do so, but the idea had merit. Sanitation had been something he had been concerned about, even with the waste channels at the new housing site carrying refuse away from the village.

"Did both proposals come from the same group of women?"

A dry expression crossed the steward's face. "Yes, My Lord...our newer villagers seem rather particular about cleanliness."

Lucien watched him closely, wondering why Elias seemed more troubled by the bathhouse.

"But other than the cost to construct it...wouldn't a bathhouse make sense?"

Elias's eyes widened slightly before he glanced to the side. "Of course, My Lord. But the women suggested something...more than a bathhouse."

At Lucien's questioning look, the elderly man seemed almost reluctant to continue until he exhaled faintly.

"They proposed private rooms, attendants, and services for men who wished to visit, My Lord."

'Ah...that kind of service.'

"...I see. I suppose it wouldn't be wise to support that openly," Lucien muttered, eyes lowering in thought. "Especially not as one of the five."

When the steward's expression eased with relief, Lucien felt faintly guilty for what he was about to say next.

"But do not reject it outright. The washing house is worth considering, and even the bathhouse is not a poor idea by itself. The problem is everything attached to it."

He tapped a finger lightly against the desk. "Have them revise the proposal. Cleanliness, laundry, boiled linens, public bathing. Nothing more than that."

"And they may speak with Talia if they need help shaping it into something acceptable."

Lucien had a distant feeling he would regret that somehow. The look of horror that crossed Elias's face suggested he shared the sentiment.

Before the steward could speak, Lucien shook his head. "I understand your concerns...we won't support the bathhouse providing that sort of service. We might not even be able to build one yet...but it would be prudent to at least consider it, Elias."

Such things had existed in every society he knew of, whether acknowledged or not. Even if he outright banned it, all that would do was encourage it to happen out of sight.

At least the proposal had come from the women themselves. If they were the ones setting the terms, there would be fewer chances for others to twist it into something worse.

"My Lord...if the bathhouse ends up being constructed in the future and you were..." The steward's words trailed off.

Lucien gave a nod, understanding the implication beneath them. "That is why we won't be openly supporting it. As for letting Talia be the face...well, I would have to ask her later if she agrees first. If not, we can have someone else act as the go-between."

"...Understood, My Lord."

Elias seemed to decide that Lucien had made up his mind and produced a letter from his pocket. "There was one other matter, My Lord. A letter from Lord Vaelric arrived just now."

The steward pushed it across the desk.

"My thanks, Elias."

Breaking open the seal, Lucien unfolded the letter and immediately recognized the hand as Lord Vaelric's.

Lord Lucien Varentis,

I have received your message concerning the orcs. It is troubling to hear that such creatures are once again stirring near our borders.

Regrettably, the resettlement of Cragwatch continues to require the greater part of my men. I cannot offer you the aid I would prefer to send.

That said, the roads between our lands and Helvarn remain under patrol. Should you need to send messengers or trade caravans through my territory, they will be permitted passage.

Be wary, Lord Varentis. If they are lingering near your northern border, then they are unlikely to be merely passing through.

I do not know whether this is the same band that took my brother's life years ago. However, if any report speaks of an orc with a broken right tusk, I advise you to treat it as the band's leader and kill it by whatever means are required.

Cut off the head, and the rest will turn on one another in time.

May your walls hold,

Lord Gideon Vaelric

For a time, Lucien remained silent as he considered the letter.

It was only when Elias cleared his throat that his eyes lifted.

"The child currently staying in one of the guest rooms," the steward began, the words coming slowly.

"My Lord...it would be wise to ensure she is not dangerous. To yourself, and to the people around her."

Lucien's brow creased at the words. "She isn't even awake yet, Elias."

Though it did bring to mind something he had considered asking the man.

Keeping his expression carefully neutral, Lucien leaned forward in his seat. "Have you seen such a case before in the capital, Elias? Among noble children, perhaps?"

The steward shook his head. "No, My Lord. Most of my years in service were spent assisting your father with matters of treasury, correspondence, and administration. Though I have heard that others of my profession, those charged with educating noble children, occasionally encountered a misbehaving child attempting such things."

Lucien let the words settle for a moment. "I had thought you might have encountered such matters more directly...given how long you served House Varentis."

Elias's brows lifted faintly before he spoke. "Ah. No, My Lord. Not in that manner. I served your father for many years, but mostly through matters of coin, correspondence, and administration. Your childhood was not among my duties."

Lucien gave a slow nod, though his thoughts had gone still.

At least one of his assumptions from his conversation with Talia had been proven right. Yet even as one question was answered, another seemed to take its place.

"Cora's condition...you know nothing that would help, then?"

Elias exhaled faintly. "I only know that a Wild Mage is dangerous, My Lord. To themselves, and to the people around them."

"There is a reason most novices in the Higher Arts attend the Capital's Academy before they attempt the awakening ritual."

After Cora's incident, both he and Talia had begun scouring his library for any hint of magic, both to learn more and to separate the books that might cause such an incident to happen again.

By inferring from the contents of those books, there were certain things he had come to understand, such as how mages were typically trained.

Unaware of Lucien's thoughts, the steward continued.

"It would be prudent to consider sending the child there, My Lord...if she regains consciousness."

When Lucien's eyes narrowed at the older man, Elias let out a faint breath.

"My Lord. Ashridge does not have the resources to ensure her safety."

"She is not even awake yet, Elias. I will consider it when she regains consciousness, not before."

The words left him with less patience than he meant to show.

Before the steward could reply, hurried footsteps sounded beyond the study, causing them both to fall silent.

"Enter," Lucien called when someone knocked on the door.

Alicia stepped in, and the worried look on her face caused Lucien's chest to tighten.

"My Lord, Cora...she's awake."

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