Not to Cause Offense Ch. 02

Hello, folks!

My apologies for the long, long, long delay in posting. I had some life stuff happen, but I am now back with more story. My goal is to submit a chapter each month, though there may be occasional (hopefully shorter) delays, especially in the beginning when I am still getting used to my characters and internalizing their quirks, speech patterns, motivations, etc. Pretty please rate and comment if you like what you see! I go back and read all of your comments when I'm feeling unmotivated or need a boost of inspiration to get through writer's block. So for realz, if you want more content and/or want to put a smile on my face, it would be greatly appreciated. Also, check out my bio for updates on this (and future) stories. I'll try to keep you all in the loop on word count, projected posting dates, and the like. :)

—Kyra D. Saden

Disclaimer: All characters depicted in sexual situations are 18+. And noncon, while great in the context of a fantasy, is never okay outside of that context. Remember that in real life, consent should be informed, enthusiastic, and ongoing.

"What was that all about?" Terin hissed, as Thaddeus guided him through the ancient, limestone halls of the west wing. It appeared that even outside the throne room, Thaddeus was reluctant to speak. "Thaddeus!"

"Not here," Thaddeus hissed back. "Not now."

"Then when?" Terin groaned, impatiently padding along beside him. "This can't exactly wait until—"

Thaddeus suddenly came to a stop before a set of wooden double doors and Terin followed suit. There were dozens of identical doorways lining either side of the guests' quarters and supposedly a common area and a large bath somewhere nearby, but the rest of the rooms appeared to be largely empty. It took Thaddeus a moment to get his key to work, but when the doors finally parted, Terin couldn't help but raise an eyebrow in surprise. The main room alone was the size of a family cottage, dressed in dark red carpeting and with a little sitting area beside the fire in the northwest corner. There were also real glass windows framed by silk drapes, reflecting the light from a series of three chandeliers that were dangling from the ceiling.

But Terin was most intrigued by the bookshelves lining the walls, filled to nearly bursting with leather volumes of all kinds. Even among royalty it was rare to find such a vast collection of manuscripts and even rarer for paid muscle to be housed in what was essentially a small library. Taking a deep breath, Terin let his nostrils fill with the delicious scent of aging paper, then began touring the room. His fingers traced the spines of each and every book he passed by, gently caressing their silver-stamped titles as he read through them one by one. The sight of them all sucked him back into the past and reminded him of lazy weekends at the Archives, long before he'd taken up monster hunting. In those days, the future had been filled with nothing but high hopes and grandiose expectations. Now Terin was a changed man and his perceptions weren't quite so tainted by youthful optimism. But books had always been his first true love and being surrounded by so many still made his heart grow warm in all the same ways.

"My lord thought you might like to have some reading material on standby," Thaddeus dutifully explained, all while watching Terin pick through the selection. "For research purposes only, you also have his permission to access the Vaults—strictly under supervision, of course."

"Of course," Terin breathed, still engrossed in ink and leather. "I didn't expect even this much."

"It's no secret that the Great Lancet Slayer is a lover of literature and of the mythic sciences in particular. Almost everything we have on cryptids and the related material has been moved to this room. Hopefully, the collection will aid you in the coming month."

"Your lord certainly doesn't skimp on the bribery, does he?"

"So you noticed?" Thaddeus replied somewhat dryly, and with that he plopped down in the nearest chair and gestured toward the dining table. "Now please tell me there is wine in that pitcher? If the gods are indeed good, then let them not forsake me."

"Do we actually get to talk now?" Terin asked, looking up from the books. "Are you finally going to explain yourself to me?"

"If there is wine in the pitcher, then yes."

With a sigh, Terin abandoned the bookshelves, then headed over to the little sitting area where Thaddeus was slouched in his seat. There was indeed a pitcher on the wooden table across from him and inside, a generous portion of sweet red wine. Terin poured them each a glass and pushed one over to Thaddeus before sitting opposite. There he waited, but there was no sound save for the pounding of rain on the windows and the eerie quaking of the wind.

"There don't appear to be any eavesdropping spells," Terin observed, watching as Thaddeus turned the glass of wine over in his hands—perhaps the man was worried about being overheard. "I can see some protection spells and some insulators, but there aren't any ears."

"Well of course not!" Thaddeus practically spat, and he finally took a sip of his drink. "Given that you possess the sight, my lord will almost certainly be using more traditional means to spy on you."

"Is that what you've heard? Is that what the walls are saying?"

"It's what my common sense is saying," Thaddeus clarified, looking grim. "Look, Terin. I know my lord has been extremely generous, but you need to be careful, alright?"

"I'm always careful," Terin assured him, but Thaddeus didn't look convinced. "I am, seriously. You think this is my first time working under contract for a brutish, overzealous lord?"

"Lord Vareill is different—"

"—all lords think they're 'different.'"

"You're not listening!" Thaddeus cried, slamming his glass on the table and allowing the wine in it to spill over. "Lord Vareill is dangerous. He doesn't just think he's dangerous—it's an indisputable fact! And now that he's lost himself twelve monster hunters already and the entire province is in chaos, he's desperate, too. The people are packing up and leaving en masse. It's gotten so bad that my lord has had to close the borders. I assume, given your profession, that you know how a cornered beast behaves?"

"You didn't tell me it was that bad. Not when you first recruited me."

"I didn't know, either," Thaddeus sighed, and the anger was gone as quickly as it had come, replaced by quiet resignation. "Not until this morning, anyway. When I first left Loroathe under orders to recruit a monster hunter, my lord had only gone through four or so and the borders were still open. People were obviously worried, but it wasn't like it is now. Suspicion has replaced common decency within the populace and I fear it will get worse before it gets better."

"Like I said, I'll be careful," Terin promised, now glancing sideways at the door. "Now that you mention it, do you think we should hold off until...?"

"I switched up your accommodations last-minute," Thaddeus told him, pouring himself a second and far taller glass of wine. "It wasn't easy with all the books, but I did it. We should be good for now, but in a few days time yes, even this room will be compromised."

"So then, about that woman?" Terin asked, and Thaddeus winced. "Come now, you can't hold out on me forever."

"Alright," Thaddeus groaned, looking reluctant but defeated. "As you wish, but listen, try not to get too riled up, okay? Things are...they're different here than you're used to."

"You'd be unpleasantly surprised by what I've encountered during my career," Terin replied flatly. "Now, tell me—why, exactly, did I risk angering the gods for you?"

"I mean, you saw the way Lord Vareill was looking at you, didn't you?"

"You want me to risk angering the gods to avoid angering a lord? Do you hear yourself?"

"There's more to it than that!"

"I would hope so, Thaddeus. At the moment, I rather like you."

"It's just...if you had refused the gift..." Thaddeus sputtered, looking sick. "Well, then..."

"Out with it!"

"They would have killed her, alright?" Thaddeus whispered, but it was an angry and forceful sort of whisper. "Look, if a guest refuses to accept a gift given by a lord, then the gift is assumed to be unfit for use and they...well, they have to get rid of it."

"They...they what?"

"What would it say about Lord Vareill if he were to hold on to a gift deemed unworthy of his own guests?" Thaddeus asked, with a sad little shrug. "It's all about keeping up appearances."

Terin could feel his blood start to boil with rage, but he quickly checked himself and sighed into the palm of his hand. He had entered into a contract with Lord Vareill and like it or not he would have to play by the blue blood's rules.

"Fine," Terin groaned, now feeling quite sick himself. "So then, what am I supposed to do with this woman?"

"You can do whatever you like once your job is done," Thaddeus told him, staring up into the ceiling thoughtfully. "After that, you could sell her or set her free—whatever you feel is best—but until then, you need to at least pretend to be grateful."

"And how do I "pretend" to do that?"

"Isn't it obvious?" Thaddeus asked, looking confused. "You use her, of course."

"U-use her!?" Terin sputtered, recoiling in his seat. "I'll take her in as a gift for formality's sake, but I won't force myself on an unwilling woman like some heathenish—"

"Calm down," Thaddeus groaned. "That's not what I meant."

"What else could you possibly mean by that phrasing?"

"I don't think you realize the value of the slave my lord has gifted you," Thaddeus noted, looking at Terin almost peculiarly. "Did you not notice her incredible—"

"Tits are tits!" Terin hissed. "I don't care how incredible. I still won't thrust myself on some poor captive woman who—"

"No! Not her tits!" Thaddeus protested, practically rolling his eyes. "That's not what I meant, either. Are you really so dense that—" Just then, the mechanical clock in the corner rang out a dozen times and Thaddeus cursed under his breath. "Look, I have to get going. If I'm caught wandering the halls after curfew, it won't go well for me. It'll be quicker and easier to show you than it will be to explain."

"Wait, do you mean her magic?" Terin asked, and now he was the one looking at Thaddeus peculiarly. "So what if she has powerful magic? As long as it's successfully contained, then—"

"Here, come with me," Thaddeus demanded, grabbing Terin by the arm and pulling him toward the bedroom. "Like I said, it'll be easier if I show you."

"Show me what, exactly, when you still haven't—"

The door opened, and Terin very nearly jumped out of his skin. There were the usual luxuries, of course. He could see a massive four-poster bed, a little night stand with a candelabra on top, and a trunk for his clothes, but that wasn't all. The woman from the throne room was sitting right there, wearing the same near-nonexistent clothing as before and chained by her collar to an anchor in the wall. Her eyes met his again and he could feel his heart turn to ice from the intensity of that stare.

"What the hell is she doing in my room?!" Terin cried, all while Thaddeus was trying to get him to calm down. "No, no...don't shush me! Look at her eyes—that woman is going to kill me!"

"Be quiet!" Thaddeus hissed. "She's not going to—" But then he glanced in her direction and paused. "Alright, so it...uh, does seem likely that she intends to kill you in your sleep."

"Like she'll wait until I've fallen asleep!" Terin hissed right back. "I may have agreed to accept this, ugh, gift. But I have strict policies when it comes to keeping dangerous beasts and you don't house them next to your bed."

"Good gods, you're being difficult. Just look at her for a second, alright?" Thaddeus snapped, and Terin watched in confusion as the man produced a dagger before grabbing him by the wrist. "I said look at her, not at me!"

"What are you doing, Thaddeus?"

"Just trust me, alright?"

"No!" Terin cried, wrenching his hand free and backing away. "If I didn't know any better, I'd think you were trying to stab me right in the—"

Without further warning, Thaddeus once again grabbed Terin by the wrist and slashed into the palm of his hand. Honestly, Terin was far more surprised than anything else. For a second, he just stood there, watching blood dribble down the lines in his skin and gather in the dimples. Then his face turned pink with rage and he turned on Thaddeus. Quickly, the man tried to back away, but Terin beat him to the door, pinned him against the frame, and drew his sword. He wasn't sure why Thaddeus had acted against him, but it wouldn't be the first time an employer had turned treacherous. That's when he looked down and noticed that the blood pouring from his hand wasn't dripping down to the floor like it should be. Instead, it was returning to the wound in the form of tiny, strawberry-red beads. They moved almost intelligently, disappearing past his skin and into the cut like an army of ants. Then his flesh began to seal itself along either end of the lesion, until it was as if he had never been injured in the first place.

"No..." Terin breathed, immediately letting go of Thaddeus. The man slunk to the floor clutching at his now bruised arm, but Terin didn't have eyes for him now. "N-no...it can't...they wouldn't..."

Horror etched in every line of his face, Terin slowly turned toward the woman beside his bed and stared. It was magic that had healed him and he had seen it all, bright white and mist-like and pouring directly from her. If his assessment was accurate, then the cuffs and collar holding the woman didn't just restrain her magic, they channeled that magic. Somehow, Lord Vareill had set it up so that whenever he was hurt, she was forced to magically reverse his wounds. As the implication began to sink in, Terin could feel himself growing sick. Sheathing his sword, he raced past Thaddeus and into the washroom on the right side of the bed. It was a miracle he made it in time, but he did. As soon as he was past the doorway, Terin immediately fell to his knees and started heaving.

"I can't believe you attacked me!" Thaddeus growled, slinking in after him, but the anger dissipated as soon as he saw that Terin was vomiting into the toilet basin. "Are...are you alright?"

"What dark magic is this?" Terin hissed, wiping his mouth on his sleeve and turning murderous eyes toward Thaddeus. "Tell me!"

"I don't know how it's done," Thaddeus tried, but now Terin was standing to his feet and had traded in his sword for a fixed dagger—a tool far better suited to interrogation. "I swear upon the gods, I don't know! Please...please believe me, I swear, I—"

"This isn't ordinary magic," Terin cried, grabbing Thaddeus by the collar and throwing him into the wall. In an instant, the dagger was against his throat and Thaddeus had to turn his head sideways to avoid being cut. "This is sick, despicable magic!"

"A-agreed!" Thaddeus replied, frantically raising his arms above his head in a show of surrender. "We can agree on that, I think."

"What have they done to her?!" Terin screamed, his heart pounding so hard inside his chest that he was afraid it might burst open. "What have they done to us?!"

Even though Terin didn't have any magical affinities himself, the sight made him an expert on the principles governing their use. Mages weren't their own separate breed, but a subset of sentients with the ability to channel life force energy or "mana." All living beings produced it, but only mages and those races descended from the ancients had the proprioceptive capacity to control it and manifest it as something else. Typically, it was stored at "capture points" in the heart, gut, and just above the head, then circulated through the body along meridians in accordance with a psychic system of vessels. While tapping into that system from the outside was certainly possible, doing so was an extreme violation of bodily autonomy. It was akin to sewing two human beings together and forcing them to share a set of arteries.

"Calm down, Terin," Thaddeus begged, glancing anxiously down at the iron blade being pressed against his skin. "P-please. I have a wife, you know. And two children."

"Then you should think carefully about your next words," Terin hissed, and there was absolutely no mercy in his eyes. "Your master bound me to another without my consent—without my even noticing, no less! I want to know when and I want to know how."

"I don't know," Thaddeus repeated, his voice trembling. "Honestly, I don't know."

"And what happened to that whisper network of yours?"

"There have to be whispers for them to get back to me. If the walls don't speak, then I don't hear them."

"You can't bind two sentients to one another without some sort of binding agent," Terin continued. "You're the one who recruited me and you've been traveling with me for two months now..."

"I know what you're thinking and you're wrong," Thaddeus sputtered. "I would never—"

"Never what? Steal a lock of my hair, a brushing of skin cells, a drop of saliva and send it by raven to your master back home?"

"I do what I must to survive, but I've never had to go that far," Thaddeus promised, and Terin dug the blade into his skin hard enough to draw blood. "It's the truth—my only orders were to recruit you and bring you back! Nothing else happened, I swear it!"

"How else do you explain this, then?" Terin growled, lifting up his now perfectly healed hand. "Give me a reason not to kill you, Thaddeus. Please. Whatever you may think of me in this moment, I don't want to leave your wife without a husband and your children without a father."

"Terin, p-please don't do this...please, I didn't know..."

"Didn't know what?"

"I didn't know you would be so incredibly upset over this."

Terin paused. If nothing else, that seemed to be the honest truth. Thaddeus was neither clumsy nor foolish, and he would never risk angering a well-armed monster hunter in an enclosed space. Maybe he had anticipated some mild anxiety, but certainly not this level of rage. With a sigh, Terin sheathed his blade and stepped back, but made sure to situate himself firmly in front of the nearest exit. Clutching his throat, Thaddeus scrambled to the far side of the room, but they both knew he wasn't going anywhere.

"Explain, Thaddeus."

"G-give me a second w-won't you?" Thaddeus coughed, and Terin raised an eyebrow. "P-please?"

"Very well, but just a second."

It took a moment for Thaddeus to get his bearings, but the wound to his neck was no deeper than a shaving cut would be. Terin even fetched him a glass of water and he gulped it down gratefully.

"M-maybe it's just because I'm used to it," Thaddeus whispered, looking forlornly into his glass and then shamefully back up at Terin. "But truly, I didn't know you'd be so angry."

"It's a disgusting practice!"

"I don't disagree, but it's also rather common in the Northlands," Thaddeus explained. "On the battlefield, slave mages are bound to high-ranking strategists and the officers directly under their command to improve their fighting power, stamina, and overall constitution." With that, Thaddeus shrugged apologetically, though they both knew it meant nothing. "It's just...it's a means to keep our most important soldiers safe."

"Conceptually, I understand why it's been done. What I don't understand is why you and your lot are apparently still doing it!"

"To be honest, we never really stopped," Thaddeus admitted. "It's just that suitable subjects are extremely rare and we haven't seen war in ages, so you don't run into heal sluts too terribly often."