Tales Around Blue Blossom

Ever since the day at the Maid Directorate, Mistress Maevin Maer's expectation of Henry Patton staying close had lessened. He wasn't sure if that was because she was trusting him more or she realized that having such a tight leash on him wasn't really helping. Either way, that was how he found himself in Belentine with only the maids Nish, Minda, and a new one he hadn't met named Teemai.

Of course, he was familiar with Nish. She was the Arch Maid for the Estate legion. She was quiet and reserved, more than he had seen of others but very strict. Her bob cut blond hair moved with the gentle breeze sweeping through Belentine as her sky blue eyes roamed over the crowd.

The other maid the young Terran was familiar with was Minda. That woman was an inventory maid if he remembered correctly so fell under Arch Maid Nish's authority. The red head with long, curly hair was quite memorable and not just because of a impressive chest which she never covered but how sweet she had been to him awhile ago.

The last maid present was someone new which wasn't a surprise. There were over four thousand people working on the massive Blue Blossom Estate so to think he knew them all would have been stupid.

From the quick explanation from Nish, Teemai was a higher ranking Stockpile Maid who handled a lot of the logistics for the estate. She was tagging along as she wanted to personally handle orders of the bespoke items that were going to be provided. In full transparency, it had been Henry that requested to tag along.

So, that was how he found himself walking down a street of gray cobblestone among the crowds and stalls of all different shapes and sizes thronged on both sides of him. I reminded Henry of the community marketplaces at home where people were selling their crafts and produce from their gardens. From what Nish had told him, a lot of these stalls were extensions of major shops as the Dovaela Market was meant to harked back to the ancient era of community. He definitely felt like we was among an old market square.

The strangest thing for him though was actually being among regular Xaltean citizens. It was a weird thing to say but they looked normal. T-shirts, jackets, clothing Henry would have expected at home but they had a distinct Xaltean cut to them. A lot of the shirts had the distinct asymmetric cut to them, the jeans riding lower on the hips for some. Henry did not realize how traditional the clothing on the estate was until he saw them.

They even have jeans! the young man thought to himself as a small, gaggle of people went by talking and laughing, their arms laden with shopping bags. Henry didn't feel quite so conspicuous anymore as he was wearing a simple tunic and slacks. In this marketplace, his maids stood out as strange though nobody gave them but a passing glance.

“Are you enjoying your outing?” Nish asked quietly on his left. Henry almost jumped forgetting how silent that woman moved.

“Yes!” Henry said with an emphatic nod. “I've never really been among citizens and it's fascinating to see the other side of the culture.”

“Did you not visit Belentine on your own a month ago?” Minda asked on his other side.

Oh, yeah. That was the time he sneaked out and didn't tell Maevin, then wound up running into a hostile houses' battle maid.

That was a fun day, Henry thought sarcastically. “Yeah but I was at the tourist spots so I saw more of my own people than yours.”

Minda nodded emphatically making her hair (and other things) bounce.

“Well, you are welcome to mingle,” Nish said with a rather stunning smile. “This area is pretty secure with cameras and there are no other houses visiting today. You are free to explore.”

“Thank you!”

“Though if my master will be considerate,” Nish continued. “to remain on this street until his maids are with him again. The other streets are more dense and I worry for you getting lost.”

She was probably worried about him being murdered by a rival but being polite about it.

“Sure. The street is pretty big. I got to look at.”

“You have access to your credit account if you wish to buy something,” Teemai said as she pulled out her computer pad to do her own shopping.

“And please refrain from buying another maid,” Nish added the humor in her voice. “I don't think the Mistress would be pleased if you did.”

So they heard about him just randomly purchase a maid contract. A flush of embarrassment covered his face. The woman was assigned to his third floor library as a attendant. Something close but not too close per Maevin.

“I'll try to behave. Promise.”

With the gentle reminders, the three women broke apart and vanished into the crowd on their individual missions leaving Henry to look at the sea of people, the sounds, and the delicious smell of food.

Food. That was a good idea. Looking around, his eyes landed on a stall that had what appeared to be a sausage like food in their glass display cases. His stomach growled in eagerness. Henry jingled the few credit chips he had in his pocket making sure they were there. He wanted to avoid using his credit account as much as feasible. The young man didn't want to give away who he was.

Striding over, the older man with gray hair and a thick mustache saw him coming and lit up.

“Hello! Thank you for coming to my stall,” the man said in a very accented English. He must have assumed he was a tourist.

“eta lusheeba mi xalta,” Henry said with a smile letting the man know he could speak Xaltean.

“Oh!” the main said with a big grin. “You speak it well!”

Henry smiled and nodded not wanting to give too much away. For the next few minutes they discussed the food and the young man let him think he was a tourist. It was easier that way as Henry didn't know how they would react if they found out he was the Lord of the Estate.

With a large sausage in hand in a butter bun, the Terran grinned. “This is delicious.”

“My friend works down the third street,” the man said pointing in the direction of a smaller and more densely packed street that broke off from the main one. “He serves a wonderful iced kaeva. It's much like the Terran coffee but with a very sweet spice to it.”

“I shall check that out!” And Henry meant it.

Making his way through the crowd, he found that the people were closer together due to the street being smaller. Everyone was still happily talking and Henry did not mind. It was nice to blend in for once than stand out. He had just located the kaeva stand that the sausage seller had told him about when he heard it.

“Hey, babe. Where you going?”

There was no accent and the inflection was correct. Henry's ears perked up immediately at the sound of his own mother tongue. Whoever was speaking, their voice carried. Henry began looking. There was a quieter voice speaking but the young lord couldn't make it out.

“Don't run away, my friends an I are just trying to get to know you better.” There was a bit of laughter and instantly the hair on Henry's neck stood on end. There was something predatory in that sound.

Shit, he thought to himself as he began pushing his way through the crowd. As a collective, said crowd was shifting away from the disturbance and he could see the nervous and concerned looks on their faces.

When he broke through the crowd, Henry Patton saw the layout of an open air cafe. A lot of the customers were getting up and moving away from the problem out front. Four men who seemed to be ranging between their early to mid 20s had a young woman in a blue shirt and matching shorts in the middle. The one with a buzz-cut had his arm around her pulling her close. The discomfort and fear was written all over her face.

“Let's go have a drink,” the one was saying while the other was elbowing his friend. They were nudging the scared woman down the street.

The anger that burst through Henry was palpable. It started in his gut and burned up through his chest. It was a fury that he could never remember experience before. The world seemed to narrow and sharpen, his heart beating harder in his chest as she balled his fists together until his knuckles were white.

“Hey!” Henry yelled in English forcing his way towards them. “Get the fuck away from her.”

Where was this coming from? Back home or even at the estate he would have never acted like this but seeing the fear in her eyes just made something snap inside. The four turned to look with a mixture of irritation and anger but still not having let go of the the woman.

“Mind your own business,” The one who appeared to be the leader said. “This has got nothing to do with you.”

Nothing to do with him? These people were under the protection of Blue Blossom Estate and House Patton-Avernell. It had everything to do with him. In the haze of fury and Adrenalin, Henry realized that understanding that made him angry.

“I said get the fuck away from her,” Henry growled again now only six feet from them. Two of the larger ones blocked his way and immediately his brain went into overdrive.

There were four total, two large and two small. Like any male in the Holy Innocentia, he did two years of mandatory service in the military so he had some basic self defense. Thanks to Tox also teaching him a bit, Henry knew he wasn't going to go down without a fight. Yes, he could have backed off but the fury inside him wouldn't let him. She was a citizen of his planet.

Henry did not wait but stepped in and threw a punch straight at the largest stomach. He was not expecting it as he doubled over and found Henry's knee coming up to connect with his face. That one dropped to the ground clutching his broken nose that was gushing blood.

The young lord did not have a chance to move as the other's fist connected with the side of his head. Stars exploded into his vision and he stumbled back but fighting his brothers on the farm had taught him to keep going. He lowered his head and rammed the other lifting him up and over his shoulder to slam hard on the ground.

Another blow landed in his back and the others joined forcing Henry. He spun to face them, his face screaming in pain. That was going to swell.

The three were standing there seething angry squaring up on him while the other was holding his face as blood poured out.

It was the movement to his left that he turned to see racing through the crowd the three maids. There was a mixture of fear and determination on them. Before Henry even thought about it, he pointed directly at them causing them to stop.

“No.” Henry said with uncharacteristic commanding voice. The trio looked at each other and he could see the war in their eyes of listening or disobeying him.

“I don't know who you think you are,” the leader said stepping forward having shoved the girl away. She had escaped into the crowd and was now watching. “but you made a mistake.”

Henry grinned (which hurt). “You have no idea the mistake you've made.”

They came at him and Henry did not hesitate to fly forward and ram into them. He swung hard remembering everything that Tox and the military taught him. Only one of them seemed to have any training and that was the leader. The attack was so abrupt that another went down with a hard kick to the groin and the third backed off raising his hands in surrender.

Henry threw himself at the last and they went down in a cloud of fists and kicks. All Henry could think of was making this person pay for the way he acted against his people. It felt like forever but probably only a few minutes but the Terran Lord found himself on top of the bloodied body of his opponent and he kept raining punches down on him.

“Don't every touch my people again,” Henry shouted, punctuating each word with a blow.

There was a whistle and through bleary eyes he could make the uniforms of police officers rushing forward. One went to rip Henry off and tackle him but he did not succeed. As he reached out, two forms blurred close, re-directed his hand and then shoved the officer back just enough to stop his movement.

Nish was at his side, hand outstretched while Teemai was pulling him up and Minda was shielding him.

“Do not touch, your Lord,” Nish warned without raising her voice.

The officer glanced at Henry and the realization sunk in. He bowed awkwardly and ran over to an older officer. He must have told him who he was as that older man came over and gave a much more formal bow.

“My lord,” he said his words not as quiet as Henry had hoped. A ripple shot through the crowd as the realization swept over them. Henry wiped the blood from his split lip looking at the men restrained by the police.

“Since they assaulted you, shall we hand them over to your security?” The officer asked.

Henry shook his head, the pain started hitting as the Adrenalin wore off.

“No. Get them off my planet.”

---

When the shuttle landed back at Blue Blossom and the hatch opened, Henry knew the story had gotten back.

Of course it did.

Mistress Maevin Maer was standing there in her summer outfit of white cloth, emotions ranging from rage and worry on her face. Doctor Torbet, their estate's physician, was there along with Tox and a few other high ranking maids.

“Master,” Maevin said stepping up and offering a hand as he stumbled. Her dark hair was caught by the wind for a moment reminding Henry how beautiful she was.

“Leave Nish and her maids alone,” Henry said as the trio stepped out with fear in there eyes. He knew that they were scared of what Maevin would do to them. “I gave them a direct order to not get involved and they did their duty and obeyed me.”

Maevin shot a glance at Nish who quickly bowed and then the mistress motioned with her head to dismiss the three. Maevin led him quickly into the building and he soon found himself in his office and sitting in his chair. The woman knelt down in front of him taking the antiseptic cloth offered by Doctor Torbet and began to dab at his lip. His face was really starting to hurt. Torbet came over and began to apply a adhesive bandages that felt cool and numbing to the swollen parts of his face.

“That was very barbaric,” Maevin gently chided him as she handed the bloody cloth to torbet and began to use another one.

Henry tried to shrug but everything was hurting even worse.

“Well, it was a small incident,” He finally got out.

“There is a recording,” Torbet said. “Belentine has security cameras and police drones. The fight was filmed and on the news within thirty minutes of you leaving. You're the story of the day. Probably gonna want to draft a letter to our High Baron cause it's gonna get to him.”

“That is an issue for later,” Maevin said with a thin warning in her voice. The doctor gave a nod and stepped back waiting.

“Look, they were harassing that poor girl,” Henry said trying to explain himself. “I couldn't just let them.”

“I know,” Maevin said. “but brawling?”

“I wasn't thinking.”

There was a hint of a smile in the corner of Maevin's mouth and her eyes were bright. “Well, you have made an impression, My master.”

As she worked on him, Henry glanced at the door and saw a few eyes looking in and quickly trying not to look like they were. Maevin glanced and sighed.

“Dismiss the maids and close the door, Doctor.”

Henry could hear the whine of frustration from the other maids as the door clicked.

“What's that about?”

“Well, you're every woman's fantasy now.”

“What?!?” Henry started and immediately regretted the quick movement.

Maevin nodded. “I have studied Terran literature and you have a trope of the damsel in distress and the charming prince to rescue, yes?”

“Umm...yeah,”

“Our trope is a bit different. In our culture, it is the civilized woman who is swept off their feet by a barbarian that doesn't care for status, ceremony, or protocol. A Xaltean man would never have brawled in the street like that and now there is footage of the Lord of Victory pummeling brigands for the sake of a woman.”

“I would not be surprised if there are some inquiries on possible marriages or even requests for fathering a few children,” Torbet added, a glint of amusement in his eyes.

“What? No!”

Torbet snorted in laughter while Maevin's smile grew just a bit bigger.

“If anything, it's going to be harder to have the maids keep their clothes on,” Maevin sighed. “They're gonna definitely want your attention now.”

In a way Henry didn't mind. He had always wondered if you could do what it took to protect everyone here and this proved it. This place felt like home and this was where he wanted to be as long as he could.

Hey all! It's been awhile since I have said anything and I was waiting to complete this project! I have finished writing a browser game called Maid Adventures! It was an idea I came up with like 5 years ago while stuck with the visual novel (which still is being worked on, I'm so bad at this. lol )

For these years I have been slowly writing up the code to do it and learning the css and stuff to make the website. It is some ugly ass code but it's doing what I want it to do.

In short, what you can do is run your very own estate! Some of the items that I've coded in is:

• Hire and fire maids
• Maids level up in their orders
• Send maids out on jobs.
• And much more...

I even put together a plaque you can show off your estate!

If you've been to the comic pages lately, you'll see a purple banner at the top. If you're logged in with your estate, you can see the status of your estate at a glance!



So is this game free, F2P, subscription?

Just free. This was a passion project of mine to write something that functioned like I had it in my brain for the estate. I have zero interest in monetizing it. You can't play to win as it's about you and your estate. To have something to do when waiting on a new page or just bored at your desk. There is a whole point system I plan to implement for Beloved Universe accounts in the future but at no time do I plan to allow people to buy things to improve their estate. This is meant to be a very low stakes, casual game for those who like things like that.

How do I start?

Easy! You just have to register and Beloved Universe account over at Beloved Universe.com, click on Maid Adventures!, go through the setup, and you're good to go!

You can fine the rules on the Rules Page which gives you a break down on how it works and as always, if you have an issues, you can email me at luckyfoot@beloved-universe.net with any bugs...at least until I get a bug form written.

Thanks so much for reading and look for more Beloved Universe stuff coming in the future!

On hot, hazy, summer days like this one, Enty was glad she went topless. She had lived with a sensory processing disorder since childhood, and the Harvester Maid of the 10th Order had never been able to stand the feeling of clothing against her skin. Winters were rough because of it, but that wasn't something she had to worry about right now.

The not-so-fun part was that her Arch Maid, Vindik Mal, had reassigned her to a working party for the week outside a small city called Velaeden. It sat between Belentine and the mining town of Furaela, nestled in the Arethanovi mountain range. On top of that, the work was backbreaking.

Velaeden's flood channels ran entirely above ground, a deliberate choice that kept the whole network accessible for maintenance without ever needing to break earth. The large channels were broad stone-cut runs that swept heavy rainfall away to the river, easy enough work for machinery. But branching off from those were dozens of smaller ones, hand-laid and narrow, that wound through the farm fields and between the hamlets like open veins. Too intricate for any machine to navigate without causing damage, they had to be cleared by hand before the autumn rains returned.

This part was going to hurt. Already Enty's back was aching as she clawed at the packed mud in a culvert that a machine couldn't easily reach. Her gloves were soaked with foul smelling mud and her protective trousers and boots were coated. On the nearby bank, her top lay folded in case she had to put it on for safety.

Across the channel, maids of Iron Forge Estate of House Irisik worked in silence.

The arrangement was civic obligation dressed up as cooperation. Iron Forge and Blue Blossom shared a sphere of influence over Velaeden and the hamlets scattered around it, which meant that when maintenance work came due neither house could simply send their people and call it done. Both had to show up. It was written into the old civic agreements that governed border territories like this one, a practical solution to the question of who was responsible for communities that sat between estates rather than inside them. In theory it demonstrated unified support to the civilians who lived and worked here. In practice it meant two houses that would cheerfully ruin each other given half a chance.

Enty glanced further down the channel. She had noticed them the moment they arrived that morning, and she thanked whatever god or goddess took pity on her that she was not a member of Iron Forge Estate or House Irisik. The senior maids were fully dressed despite the heat, every piece of their burnt orange to gold uniforms in place, accouterments worn like medals because to them that was exactly what they were. Below them it stepped down by degrees, less and less with each rank, until at the bottom the newest maids wore nothing but tall boots that came up to the knee. Every bit of comfort and protection in House Irisik was earned, and they only wore those boots thanks to the Imperial Contract Code's stipulation that maids must be protected from severe harm. Everything else was something they hadn't suffered enough to earn yet. Some of them worked stoically while others looked obviously miserable, which Enty supposed was also the point. Where her own party had shed layers and exchanged complaints with cheerful openness, the Irisik maids worked without commentary. No grumbling, no jokes passed between them, no pausing to stretch an aching back. Just the rhythmic scrape of tools against packed earth and the quiet of people who had decided that enduring without remark was the whole point.

She watched one of them for a moment, a tall maid working the opposite bank of the same channel, dragging a clogged mass of sediment free with her bare hands, on her knees and completely ignoring the fact that she was getting covered in it. No hesitation. She just crawled into the mud and fixed it.

Enty looked away before the woman could catch her looking.

The last thing anyone needed was for a staring contest to turn into something that got reported back. She could already imagine how it would read in whatever account House Irisik sent home.

Blue Blossom maid observed making provocative eye contact.

It sounded ridiculous when she put it that way. It would sound a great deal less ridiculous by the time it reached someone with the authority to make it into a problem.

“You're tense,” said Meklaer, working beside her without looking up from his own section.

“I'm fine.”

“If you keep gripping your tool that tight, your hands aren't going to make it to the end of the shift.” He shook his head.

Enty loosened her fingers and drove them under the lip of a packed mud clot instead, working it free. The smell hit her fresh and she grimaced. Across the channel the Irisik maid hadn't reacted to anything. Not the smell, not the heat, not the ache that Enty could see in the set of the woman's shoulders even if her face gave nothing away.

She made herself focus on the mud in front of her. Just the mud. Just this section of channel, this particular pocket of packed silt that needed to come loose.

It wasn't that she had anything against House Irisik personally. She didn't know any of them. That thought sat uncomfortably in her chest. Was she giving a bad impression? Reflecting poorly on her house and her lord? That was no small thing for someone oathed to the only estate in the Empire with a Terran Lord.

---

The footbridge was barely wide enough for two people to pass each other without turning sideways. It crossed one of the mid-sized channels, low enough that the wooden covering overhead forced anyone over a certain height to duck, and Enty had crossed it twice already that morning to move equipment between sections. She wasn't thinking about it the third time. Just her aching back and the fact that she was fairly sure she had mud somewhere it had no business being.

When it was time for lunch. It was loud on the Blue Blossom side.

Someone had started a complaint about the state of the equipment and it had evolved, as these things always did, into a broader discussion about everything wrong with the assignment, the location, the smell, and apparently sad sandwiches provided by the kitchens. Enty loved them for it. On any other day she would have been right in the middle of it, adding her own grievances to the pile with cheerful enthusiasm.

Today she peeled off quietly with her packed lunch and headed for the footbridge they used to cross multiple times to the work vehicle waiting for them.

The covering gave shade and that was reason enough. Her shoulders were starting to pink despite liberal application of tymor oil. She ducked under the low beam, settled herself against the side railing with her legs dangling over the edge, and pulled open her meal. Enty did her best not to squeal when she saw the sandwich there. Her Arch Maid actually got the kitchens to provide cucumber sandwiches...at least that's what she was told their Terran lord called them. He had actually had it imported to the estate specifically for the maids as a treat. She had never tried human food until she discovered these sandwiches. It was between two thick pieces of bread on top of a layer of doveluveeha, a soft cheese mixed with a hint of citrus juice.

Enty had picked up one half of the sandwich making sure her water bottle was close when she spotted her. She was about six feet away from her leaning against one of the supports in the shadow of the awning. The Blue Blossom maid was so focused on her lunch she hadn't seen the orange clad girl Irisik maid. The woman had short violet hair gathered into a ragged bun on the top of her head. Her matching eyes were large staring at her “enemy” who had just plopped down without thinking.

The two just stared at each other for a few moments before Enty spoke.

“Sorry. I didn't see you there.”

The other didn't respond as she just watched with a mixture of curiosity and fear.

“I'm Enty. Harvester Maid of the 10th Order of House Patton-Avernell.”

Half of the Blue Blossom maid expected her not to respond. Enty had only heard rumors about why the two houses don't like each other but that was well above her station.

“Raeva. Custodial Maid of the 6th Order of House Irisik.”

The silence reigned between them for a few moments before Enty just grinned and offered out half of her sandwich. “Colleague Raeva. Share a meal? It's a cucumber sandwich. From the Terran Confederacy.”

That definitely perked the woman's interest. Enty could see the keen curiosity take over. Silently the maid took the half of the sandwich, rummaged through her own pail of food and offered half a medium sized roll which Enty took.

“Daezak sausage roll. Imported from House Kolisai. We succeeded in our quota for ore extraction this month.”

“Congratulations!” Raeva started and Enty thought that might have been a bit to excited of a response. She breathed to remember to stay polite. “Your estate must be very good at what it does.”

“We are the best on the planet,” Raeva responded, the pride slipping into her voice.

Enty smiled and took a bite of the sausage roll. It hit her immediately, rich and savory with a deep smoky edge that she suspected had something to do with however House Kolisai cured their meat. It was very good. She made a mental note not to say so too enthusiastically given the morning they'd both had. Raeva, for her part, was looking at the cucumber sandwich with the careful attention of someone approaching something they genuinely did not know what to expect from. She turned it over once, examining the pale layer of doveluveeha visible at the edge of the bread, the thin green slices embedded in it.

“It's cold,” she observed.

“Yes.”

“The cheese is cold.”

“That's part of it.”

Raeva took a small, considered bite. She chewed. Something moved across her face that she clearly hadn't intended to be visible, a sort of reluctant recalibration.

“That's,” she started.

“Good, right?”

“It's very mild.”

“It is.”

“I expected something more.” A pause. “Human food has a reputation.”

“For being terrible?”

Raeva looked at her. “For being complicated.”

Enty laughed before she could stop herself, which seemed to startle Raeva slightly, who then looked like she wasn't sure what to do with the fact that she had caused it. She took another bite of the sandwich, more confident this time.

They ate in a silence that had lost most of its edges. Below them the channel moved at its steady pace, indifferent to the politics sitting above it. From the Blue Blossom side came the distant sound of Meklaer still apparently defending himself about something, which meant lunch was running its natural course without her.

Raeva finished her half of the sandwich. She looked at the remaining portion of her own meal in the pail, seemed to make a decision, and took out a small cloth wrapped package which she opened to reveal several thin sliced pieces of something dark and glazed.

“Preserved kolisai fig,” she said, setting it between them without quite making it an offer and without quite not making it one either.

Enty took one. Raeva took one. The matter was settled without discussion.

It was another few minutes before Raeva spoke again. When she did she was looking at the channel below rather than at Enty, which Enty had already learned in the space of one lunch break was how this particular maid approached things that cost her something to say.

“Your estate.” She stopped. Started again with the careful precision of someone who had rehearsed this and was now discovering that the rehearsed version wasn't quite right. “Blue Blossom moves goods. Across estate lines. Imported goods.”

“It is one of the things we do,” Enty said, keeping her voice even.

“Specialist goods. Things that aren't easily found through standard channels.”

“Sometimes.”

Raeva was quiet for a moment. Her hands had gone still over her meal pail, which Enty was beginning to recognize as a tell.

“I wish to ask the blue blossom maid a favor about indikin silk.”

The channel moved below them. The calm that Enty was feeling immediately locked up with anxiety. Indikin silk was not super rare but required not only special licensing but being on good terms with House Avernell if you didn't want to spend a ridiculous amount of money for it. It was produced from a specific insect that could be found across the galaxy on extremely wet worlds. Maelstrom, the third planet in the star system, had those bugs and Glittering Light Estate produced it.

Enty remained silent.

Raeva finally looked at her, and the large violet eyes were steady even if the rest of her wasn't quite. “I would like to acquire a ream.”

“Can I ask why indikin silk specifically,” Enty said trying to keep her voice steady. This situation could go wrong in so many different ways. Something shifted in Raeva's expression. Not defensiveness exactly. More like someone deciding how much of a true answer to give.

“It's for a gift,” she said. “To my Arch Maid. I'm being considered for my fifth order and I want to demonstrate that I can source things. Difficult things. Through my own initiative and my own contacts.” A pause, shorter than the others. “Indikin silk is the kind of thing that says you know people. That you can move in spaces above your current station. As you know our houses and allied houses are not quite on good terms.”

She said it plainly, without embarrassment, which told Enty that whatever else House Irisik's philosophy cost its maids, it at least seemed to cure them of false modesty about their own ambitions.

“Your Arch Maid doesn't know you're doing this,” Enty said.

“No. I'm supposed to be resourceful.”

“So if it goes wrong...”

“Then I pay for my indiscretion,” Raeva said with a simple finality.

Enty looked down at the remaining piece of sausage roll in her hand. There were so many moving parts with this request. It was obvious that maids of House Irisik had to prove themselves differently than her own. But agreeing right off the top of her head, as much as she wanted to, was extremely risky. Enty didn't want to wind up on the Pillar, her body uncovered in this heat. She knew that there was a supply of Indikin silk in the storage room as part of supplies being sold in Velaeden and it was being manned by Nizzie, so she knew she could get her to agree.

“Let me think about it.”

Raeva nodded once. She had the look of someone who had prepared for this answer and found it more tolerable than some of the others she had prepared for.

“How long do we have,” Enty asked. “Before you need an answer?”

“I move to another channel two days from now on the other side of Velaeden. Tomorrow if possible?”

“Alright,” she said.

Raeva looked at her. “Alright you'll think about it?”

“Alright I'll think about it,” Enty confirmed. “That's all I'm promising right now.”

It seemed to be enough. Raeva reached back into her meal pail and produced two more pieces of preserved fig, setting one in front of Enty without comment. Enty ate it. Below them the channel ran on, full and fast from the morning's work, carrying everything downstream to somewhere it could do less damage.

---

As expected, Nizzie was happy to sell her the ream of indikin silk. She processed the order as if purchased by a civilian and Enty made sure to give a few extra credits from her personal account and a promise to cover one of her illicit naps. Now, Enty had a ream of the very soft white material on her bed back in her room. What she did not expect was standing in front of her Arch Maid's office. Everything in her gut told her that she was about to get discipline but she cared too much about her estate, her lord.

Enty knocked on Vindik Mal's door and waited trying to keep her breathing as regular as possible.

“Enter,” he said.

His room was nicer than hers, which was expected, and he had already made it orderly in the way that Vindik made everything orderly, which was to say completely and without apparent effort. His uniform jacket was hung precisely on the back of the chair. His reports were stacked. His traveling case sat against the wall as though it had been placed there by someone who had thought carefully about where a traveling case ought to go.

He was sitting at the small desk by the window reading something and he did not look up immediately when she entered, which was also expected.

Putting her one hand over the other in front of her, she bowed.

“Harvester maid requests an audience with the Arch Maid.”

He set the document down and looked at her.

“Sit down.”

Enty sat on the edge of the chair across from his desk and waited. Vindik looked at her patiently waiting.

“Is there something you wanted to tell me,” he said.

Oh. The way he said that. She was sure it was a good decision to speak with him even if her butt was going to be sore in a few minutes.

“I acquired something,” Enty said. “On behalf of a colleague. From another estate. I wanted you to be aware of it.”

“Did you.”

“Yes.”

“And this colleague.” He continued. “This would be the Irisik maid.”

Yeah. He knew that they talked.

Enty kept her expression even. “Yes.”

Vindik leaned back in his chair and folded his hands in his lap, which meant she had his full attention and should choose her next words with some care.

“Walk me through it,” he said. “All of it.”

So she did. She told him about the footbridge and the preserved figs and Raeva's careful rehearsed words and the violet eyes that gave too much away when she was nervous. She told him about going to Nizzie, about processing it as a civilian order, about the extra credits from her personal account and the nap she had promised to cover. She kept her voice steady and her account precise and she did not editorialize because Vindik did not respond well to editorializing.

When she finished he was quiet for a long moment. Outside on the street below someone was having a conversation that drifted up in fragments, warm and ordinary against the evening.

“You used your personal account,” he said.

“Yes. I made sure of that.”

“And Nizzie processed it as a civilian order.”

“Yes.”

“So on paper...”

“On paper a civilian bought a ream of indikin silk as expected. That's all.”

Another silence. Vindik picked up his computer stylus and turned it over in his fingers once.

“I cannot,” he said carefully, “tell you that what you did was correct. You understand that.”

“Yes.”

“I cannot condone backroom arrangements between maids of opposing estates. Officially, all interactions more than cursory agreements must be handled by a representative or Emissary Maid.” He set the pen down. “Do you understand the difference between what I am saying and what I am not saying.”

Enty looked at him. “I think so.”

“Think more carefully.”

She did. “You can't condone it,” she said slowly. “But you're not telling me I was wrong.”

“I am telling you,” Vindik said, “that there are transactions among maids that have always existed and will always exist regardless of what any Arch Maid officially condones. The estate knows this. Every Arch Maid in the legions knows this. The system accounts for it the way water accounts for the fact that stone has cracks.” He paused. “What the system does not account for, and what no unwritten rule will protect you from, is being caught doing it carelessly.”

Enty felt something shift in her chest. Not quite relief. Something more complicated than that.

“Was I careless?” she asked.

Vindik considered this with genuine seriousness, which she appreciated.

“No,” he said finally. “You were not careless. The civilian order was clean. The personal funds was not the best choice. What you were, was lucky. And luck is not a strategy.”

“No,” Enty agreed.

“The Irisik maid.” He said it without particular inflection. “You believe she is genuine?”

“Yes.”

“You believe this was about her fifth order?”

“I do.”

“And you did not consider,” he said, very evenly, “that a maid trying to demonstrate resourcefulness to her Arch Maid might consider it useful to have demonstrated that she successfully ran an arrangement with a Blue Blossom maid instead? It was not anything about the silk and that she has an way in to a hostile house?”

The room was very still.

Enty opened her mouth and then closed it again.

She had not considered that. She had looked at Raeva's nervous hands and her careful words and her preserved figs and she had not once considered that the nervousness might be performance and the figs might be investment.

“I.” She stopped.

“You don't know,” Vindik said, not unkindly. “That is my point. You made a decision with incomplete information in a politically sensitive environment and it worked out. This time.” He leaned forward slightly. “I want you to understand what I am about to say to you, Enty. Not as your Arch Maid speaking officially. As someone who has been doing this a long time.”

She straightened without thinking about it.

“The higher orders are not given to maids who do their work correctly and keep their heads down,” he said. “Every maid does her work correctly and keeps her head down. The higher orders go to maids who understand how the estate actually functions. Who can process risk and reward and make decisions that help the estate, know when to bend the rules. The formal structure and the informal one. The rules that are written and the ones that aren't. The deals that get made in corridors and on footbridges and in the back rooms of supply quarters.” He held her gaze. “You have a talent for it. You read people well and you act on it, which is rarer than you think. But talent without judgment is how a maid ends up bent over a bench taking the rod for something she thought was clever.”

Enty kept her expression still with some effort and tried to not shift in her seat.

“The question you need to ask yourself,” he continued, “every single time, is not can I do this but what happens if this goes wrong and who does it land on. Not just you. Your estate Your lord. Me. If that Irisik maid walks into her Arch Maid tomorrow and presents this arrangement as a demonstration of her capability, someone somewhere is going to hear about it. And when they do, the question they will ask is not what she did. It is what Blue Blossom was doing making quiet arrangements with House Irisik. If it your mistress is challenged on it and she looks like a fool. There will be hell to pay. You know her.”

Enty swallowed. Though she hadn't been a true target of Mistress Maevin Maer's fury, she had seen it. It was terrifying.

“I used my personal funds,” Enty said. “It's not traceable to the estate. Right?”

“Credits are not the only currency that traces,” Vindik said. “Relationships trace. Favors trace. The fact that a tenth order Harvester Maid somehow got her hands on a ream of indikin silk traces, Nizzie now has money while working in the storage unit, the fact you were witnessed speaking with an Irisik Maid,” He looked at her steadily. “I am not telling you not to play the game. I am telling you to play it better than you did this time.”

Enty looked down at her lap, the true weight of what she had done hitting her. The Arch Maid's room at the end of a day that had started with a footbridge and a cucumber sandwich.

“What do I do with it,” she said. “The silk. Now?”

“Your choice,” he said picking up the computer pad making it clear the talk was over. “This conversation didn't happen. Just understand that if I found out officially, you're not going to be able to sit down for quite awhile...if you're lucky.”

Enty swallowed hard.

“Close the door.”

Being dismissed, Enty quickly stood, bowed again and left.

---

Finding Raeva alone was easier than Enty expected. The Irisik maids had taken their evening meal separately as they did everything else, quietly and without the sprawling communal noise of the Blue Blossom table, and by the time Enty slipped out into the guesthouse's small rear courtyard Raeva was already there. Standing near the back wall with her meal finished and her pail at her feet, looking up at the first stars appearing over the rooftops of Velaeden with the expression of someone who had been waiting and was trying not to look like it.

She saw Enty and went very still.

Enty crossed the courtyard without hurrying, the ream of indikin silk tucked under one arm wrapped in plain cloth she had found in her room. She stopped in front of Raeva and held it out without ceremony. Raeva took it with both hands. She didn't unwrap it immediately. She just held it, feeling the weight of it, and something moved across her face that she didn't manage to keep inside in time. Relief was part of it. Something that looked very much like genuine disbelief was another part.

So she hadn't been entirely certain Enty would come through. That was useful to know.

Raeva set the package carefully under her arm and reached into the inner pocket of her uniform with her free hand, producing a small cloth purse that was heavy enough that Enty could hear it when it moved. She held it out.

Enty looked at it for a moment. She thought about Vindik's voice. Relationships trace. Favors trace. She thought about Nizzie already sitting in the storage unit with extra credits in her account and the nap arrangement hanging over both of them. She thought about her own shared living space back at the estate, the three other maids she bunked with, any one of whom might notice something tucked away that hadn't been there before.

She thought about how clumsy she had already been and how much clumsier adding a physical purse to the situation would make it.

“Keep it,” she said.

Raeva blinked. “I told you I would pay.”

“I know.”

“I meant it.”

“I know that too,” Enty said. “But I'm not taking the money.”

Raeva looked at her with those large violet eyes that gave too much away when she was thinking hard, and Enty could see her working through the implications of that. Trying to decide if she was being managed or if this was something else.

“Then what do you want,” Raeva said carefully.

“A favor,” Enty said. “Unspecified. At some point in the future, if I ever need it and if it's something you can do.” She paused. “That's all.”

It was a strange thing to ask for and they both knew it. An unspecified future favor from a maid of a hostile house was not a coin you could count or a debt you could put in a ledger. It might never be called in. Enty might never have cause to contact Raeva again in her life. The estates might do something that made any contact between them impossible for years. The honest truth was that she was eating the cost of the silk as the price of a lesson she hadn't known she needed until Vindik had sat across a desk and laid out exactly how clumsy she had been about all of it.

She wasn't going to say that though. Raeva looked at her for a long moment. Then she tucked the purse back into her inner pocket and straightened slightly.

“You have my word,” she said.

Enty had been watching her face since the courtyard and she still believed what she had believed on the footbridge. The nervousness was real. The gratitude was real. The word, she thought, was probably real too.

Probably.

“Good luck with your fifth order,” Enty said.

Something softened briefly in Raeva's expression. “Thank you. For this.”

Enty nodded once and turned back toward the guesthouse door before the moment could become anything more than it was. Behind her she heard Raeva's footsteps moving in the other direction, quick and purposeful, already putting distance between the courtyard and whatever she was going to do next. Enty stopped at the door with her hand on the frame and looked up at the same strip of darkening sky Raeva had been watching when she arrived. The stars were coming in properly now, the Arethanovi range a dark shape against the deep blue at the edge of the city.

She had done a clumsy thing reasonably well. Didn't she?

So, as many of you who have been following this comic know, we have been on hiatus for over a year. This is due Kinocco-Chan having to step away because of life. The sad news is that after a year, I have been unable to get a hold of them in all the different avenues and I have tried for the last six months.

For the sake of this web-comic, I am going to announce that Kinocco-Chan will no longer be working on it.

Does this mean that Beloved Maid is over? No. I have already found a new artist that is going to work with me to continue the story and so I'm hoping in the next month or two, we'll be able to get this story moving again!

Stay tuned!

The sun was bright, shining on the Xaltean shuttle and making it glint in the noonday light. It descended through a priority air corridor down towards the city of Belentine. The trip from Blue Blossom Estate was only about fifteen minutes by shuttle and it wasn't the first time Henry had been there. Every time he did go, he discovered something new. That wasn't a surprise since it was the capital of the planet Victory, which in turn was the capital of the Emerald Sector. It still hit Henry pretty hard sometimes that he was in command of it all. He still had no clue what High Baron Avernell was thinking by putting him in charge.

Lord Henry was not alone for this trip. Sitting across from him in the padded chair was Mistress Maevin Maer. She was wearing her new summer outfit. It was a flowing white robe that draped loosely over her figure, gathered and tied at the waist. It had wide, sweeping sleeves that hung open at the sides and the fabric fell to mid-thigh in the front while cascading further down at the sides and back. The whole design looked like a balancing act and if someone tugged on the knot, the entire thing would fall off. That was something Henry wasn't going to think about.

“Has curiosity gotten to you?” Maevin asked without looking up from her PADD. “Or are you just admiring the view?”

Henry blushed but didn't take the bait. Since the other three maids accompanying them were in the back eating a quick lunch, Maevin enjoyed poking at him. Ever since the tekiasetel, she had been much more warm towards him when no others were around.

“Well, you did drag me out here from that riveting grain shipment report for Khelen,” he responded sarcastically. Henry enjoyed her laugh at his comment. It was such a warm sound.

Maevin set the compu-pad down beside her on the empty chair and folded her hands in her lap. “Since you have been so patient, my master, we are going to dismiss once and for all your concerns about the eemodae of the estate.”

Eemodae. Maids. That word Henry knew. He had actually gotten a lot better at speaking the language and for the most part he was conversing with Maevin in her own tongue.

“What do you mean?”

“You were concerned about slaves, yes?”

“Well...yeah. I mean, the whole contracts, letters...you know...”

The woman nodded, her dark hair bouncing and glinting in the light from the sun outside. “We are going to the Maid Directorate to bring on new personnel and you will get to see and experience the process. They are not heshut but seeing it will make you understand better.”

So that was where they were going. That would explain the bundles he had seen the other maids loading before the flight. It was for the Tradition of Cloth, where the new hires would be given clothes from the estate as part of their accepting of the contract.

It was the floating feeling in Henry's gut that signaled the shuttle had begun its final approach towards the spaceport, and he instinctively gripped the armrests. Back home he had not flown much in shuttles so he had only learned recently that he did not like the feeling. The thump and jolt told him they had finally set down.

The trip to the Maid Directorate was pretty straightforward, probably because he was a high priority visitor, so the hover vehicle waiting for him took off once he was aboard and flew higher than most of the other vehicles around him. It was the half-circle, almost dome-like building approaching that made Henry realize that was where they were going.

A landing platform jutted out from the back of the smooth building, big enough for at least four craft like his to land, and there were already two there. Pushing up the hatch, Henry stepped out followed by Maevin and the two maids escorting them.

“Any specific rules I need to know?” Henry whispered to his mistress as they approached the large sliding doors with frosted glass.

She shook her head and smiled at him.

“Only remember you are Lord of the Estate,” she tapped his bracer. “And if anyone asks to verify, offer the bracer. Your ident code is in there.”

“Got it.” No he didn't.

When the doors swished open and the four strode in, cool air conditioned air scented with something floral hit him. The floors were carpeted with a thin red material and though people were talking, it was hushed and polite. Almost like a library.

A man approached them, long crimson hair falling on his shoulders and a white robe trimmed in gold with a silver sash around his waist. He folded his hands in front of him and bowed.

“Welcome,” he said, straightening. “You are?”

“Patton-Avernell,” Maevin answered casually but with no hesitation in her voice. Their greeter's eyes lit up as he turned to look at Henry.

“May I assume...”

“Henry,” he said with a nod. Like an idiot, he stretched his hand out for a handshake. To his credit, the man only hesitated a moment before shaking it.

“Welcome to the Maid Directorate, Lord Patton-Avernell. As requested by your mistress, we have picked out a selection of maids that would suit the positions you need. I am Lukana and I am the Director for the day.” He tapped one of the small glass computer pads he had in his hand and Henry felt his bracer vibrate slightly. “I have uploaded idents to your computers so that you may pull the data that you need. If there is anything you need, please let me know.”

Lukana bowed again and quickly retreated to whatever he had to do next. Henry glanced to Maevin who was already going through her own computer that she had been carrying with her.

“Sooooo?”

“Follow me.”

---

The foyer they had entered was large but not like the rest of the floors he had encountered. The entire room was large, much like a warehouse, but padded with the same soft carpet throughout. Light shone in from the large paned windows spaced around the entire structure and many computer screens were mounted on the walls, spaced to give everyone room to look without crowding the other screens. Most of the floor was open space but filled with a number of large kiosks with two or three people tending each. There were also quite a number of people dressed much like he was wandering between the groups.

“Shall we?” Maevin asked, though she gently nudged him in a direction. Standing up straighter and trying not to look as lost as he felt, Henry moved towards one of the aforementioned kiosks where a woman in a simple robe was busy typing. She looked up as they approached and a practiced smile crossed her face.

“Patton-Avernell?”

“Yes,” Maevin responded.

The attendant quickly scrolled on her screen before tapping a few buttons. She looked up and gave a polite nod.

“Following the guidelines, Mistress, we have gathered our selection at the west side. A representative is there waiting for you.”

“Thanks,” Henry said awkwardly as Maevin turned and led him across the massive floor. The young man had no clue where he was going, just a sea of Xaltean men and women speaking, examining computers, and focused on their goals. After a few minutes, it stood out that there were also quite a few men and women standing in the center of these groups or on daises lit up with holographic information, being polite and conversing.

“Those are the maids that are being interviewed,” Maevin said without looking back.

“So unbonded get to select and pick?” Henry asked.

“Bonded too. Even though one has been bonded for whatever time, they get opportunities to show their skills and receive offers from houses. Only those who have Arbitrator clauses attached to their bond will have their choices limited.”

“Ah.” That kind of made sense.

The section his Mistress had led him to was against the far wall and he could see a group of men and women dressed in simple robes or tvekel, the top and skirt he had seen commonly worn by his own people.

“If I may, master,” Maevin started, her voice low. “Please allow me to do most of the talking. Though the Lord coming is not unheard of, it is a rare thing and protocol has to be maintained.”

“I'll behave, I promise,” Henry said. He had no plans to mess with everything that was going on.

The group of maids saw their approach and immediately folded their hands one on top of the other and bowed low.

“We are honored to speak with you today,” a tall man said as he straightened.

“Thank you for your consideration. I am Mistress Maevin Maer of Blue Blossom Estate of House Patton-Avernell,” Maevin started in that official voice Henry had come to recognize as her command voice. She nodded her head to him respectfully. “This is my master, Lord of the Green Henry Patton-Avernell.”

The group bowed again, faster and deeper than before.

“We are honored, Lord!” the man said. Henry nodded but kept his mouth shut.

“We are looking to replace staff in the Estate and Reserve legions. They are 6th and 5th order billets with two 4th orders available.”

Maevin stopped speaking and for a moment Henry wondered what was next, when a shorter man with short buzzed hair and brown skin stepped out of the group and held out his wrist. The little device attached there by a band blinked for a second and a holographic panel appeared.

“Mistress, I am Garet Vaeku. I have received my emerald certificates for culinarian and have educational marks for my jade certificate. Your submission form had a listing in your ground legion for your kitchens.”

Henry watched as Maevin read the words scrolling down the holographic display. It was in Xaltean and moving just fast enough that the Terran was having trouble following.

“Your coin fee for bonding is lower than I would expect for someone of your experience,” Maevin said evenly.

“I am loyal but I enjoy seeing much of every house, so my fee is nominal to allow easier opportunities.”

“I see. Which Houses have you served?”

“Tereva, Neema, and Torbet. I had the honor of serving as 3rd order culinarian to Baroness of the Blue Shanxuv Torbet.”

Maevin nodded and Henry stepped back, giving her space. Looking around quickly, he saw the two maids that had come with him standing at a respectful distance. He motioned for them to approach and they only looked at each other and hesitated for a moment.

“Yes, master?” one said.

“Can you explain coin fee to me?”

“Oh!” the other said, whispering. “Even though bonding requires mandatory indenture, we all have two accounts. One is a credit account that is assigned by the estate and the other is our personal coin account that follows us through our times and estates. A coin fee is the cost to buy someone's contract.”

“Everyone has to pay the fee?”

“Only those who have voluntarily joined the system or have an arbitrator clause allowing it. Like...” The maid hesitated and looked over to her friend, who smiled and nodded. “...like the difference between myself and Vindy here. I am a voluntary bond so I have a credit account and a coin account, but Vindy is a half bond enforced by the arbitrator so she only has a credit account and a reserve account for when her time is up.”

“Half bond? You were forced into it?” Henry said, trying not to let the concern enter his voice.

“Yes, my master. If I may speak plainly, I had a problem with alcohol and I allowed it to control me. I attacked an enforcement officer while at an establishment and since it was not my first offense, the Arbiter bonded me.”

“Oh. I'm sorry.” That was awkward to say but what else could Henry say?

“No need to apologize, my master. My three years has made me sober and given me purpose. When my time is done, I shall return to civilian life a better person.”

Henry searched her face and saw a genuine smile. The worry that he was being lied to because of his rank always worried him when it came to his maids.

“Thank you for explaining.”

“Of course, master!”

Peering around at everything, Henry noted all the people and now, with seeing his mistress at work, began to recognize the conversations like the one she was having. It was something further away that caught his attention, in the corner. There was an area with sectional walls up and what appeared to be a guard. His curiosity was piqued.

“Maevin,” Henry started and everyone around her immediately fell silent. She turned and gave him a bow but he could see in her eyes she was curious.

“I would like to wander around and see everything. Will that make your job any more difficult?”

Of course, he couldn't ask her the way he wanted to. He was her boss after all, but phrasing it like that gave her an opportunity to suggest things. It gave both of them cover.

“Of course, my master. I am available on my comm any time you need me.”

Henry nodded and began to stride away, pretty surprised she had let him go so easily.

She's probably feeling a bit more comfortable that I can speak the language and there's so much security here.

Not wanting to look suspicious — why he was worried about that he had no clue — he stopped a few times to listen but soon found himself by the blocked off area. Inside he could see a sectional where a woman sat, her shoulders slumped. Henry recognized that slump. He had worn it quite a few times. That was the posture of defeat and acceptance all in one.

The Terran Lord approached but he noticed the guard shift just slightly.

“Apologies,” Henry said, raising his hands a bit to show he had no weapon. “I was just curious.”

The guard relaxed a bit but the young man could see the keen expression on his face. Henry's accent still stood out though it had softened over time with the amount of practice he was getting.

“This is for penal contracts, sir,” the guard said. Henry noticed the woman looked over towards him and there was something in her eyes that caused his heart to drop. The sheer despair was almost palpable.

Henry straightened himself up and held out his wrist where the device was attached.

“I'm Lord Henry Patton-Avernell. I would like to see this woman's contract.”

The guard hesitated only a moment, scanned the wrist computer, saw the reading, and his own countenance changed.

“Of course, my lord. I apologize that I did not recognize you.”

“You're fine,” Henry said, relieved that it had actually worked. The guard stepped away and the Terran Lord entered. The area was much cooler and darker thanks to the walls blocking it off. The woman stood to her feet though there was no hope in her movements. She stood there, her body limp and head hung down. Her hair was a rich burgundy with expressive eyes that matched.

“Your sig-com, Maid,” the guard warned and the girl responded by raising her arm. The holographic display flared in front of her.

“I am Maid Eshu, my lord,” she said, her voice barely above a whisper.

“It's nice to meet you,” Henry said before wondering if he was supposed to greet her like that. “May I ask why you are in here rather than on the floor?”

She looked up, that despair and agony in her eyes, and though she glanced towards the guard for a moment in hesitation, she spoke.

“I'm a half-bond contract, my lord, and I have used up all my allotted days for selection.”

“That means?”

Henry could hear the tremble in her voice. “As I was not selected and due to my bonding clauses, I will be sent to a penal colony to serve in the mines for my entire sentence.”

Something twisted in the young man's gut as she stood there like a wisp of the girl she once was.

“How long is that?”

“Fifteen years.”

Fifteen years. In the mines. Even as humane as Henry had seen the Xaltean, he knew of their vicious side and he could guess her odds of making it the whole time were slim. She barely looked like she had eaten enough.

“What did you do?”

Those burgundy eyes locked on him and he could feel the guilt even before she spoke. “I...allowed my rage and use of stimulants to control me. My pair that I was courting left me for my sister and in my fury, I killed her. The Arbiter found me guilty of manslaughter and sent me into the system as a half bond with a clause that if I was not selected within five rounds, I was to be sent to the mines.”

Manslaughter. The woman had blood on her hands. He could easily see her resignation to her situation, knowing her fate was sealed.

“I am sorry,” Henry said softly and though she looked surprised for a moment, she nodded.

Henry turned and made his way back out, his heart sinking into his gut at the woman's situation. His anger burned at the fact he couldn't do anything for her. He could see her acceptance and contrition for what she had done and the fact that she hadn't been selected. Standing outside, he looked at the guard who was watching him.

“I'm sorry for the dumb question, sir, but why hasn't she been picked up?”

“The Estates are noticeably uncomfortable with those who have taken lives, especially in a fit of anger,” he explained. “They are concerned that they could do it again and hurt one of their own.”

“Ah.”

Henry nodded and began to walk away, upset and furious that she wasn't being given a second chance. Wasn't he given a second chance at something by coming to Victory? He stopped, the idea coming to his head. Spinning on his heel, he returned to the guard, who had straightened up.

“If you will, sir,” Henry started, trying to be official. “Please get whoever is needed. I will buy her contract.”

The guard's eyes grew wide and at a glance Henry could see the absolute shock on the woman's face and the faintest glimmer of hope.

“My Lord,” the man started but Henry locked his eyes on him. “Are you going to correct me, soldier?”

The guard paled just slightly and then bowed. “I shall fetch a coordinator immediately.”

As the guard took off, Henry turned and saw Vindy looking curiously at him from a distance. She still had the bag with the clothes rolls in it. He motioned her over. When she arrived, her entire presence was brimming with curiosity.

“Yes, my master?”

“I am buying this woman's contract,” Henry said. “I believe there is a ritual requirement?”

“Uh...yes, master, but shouldn't you speak with the Mistress about—” she stopped seeing Henry's face and then bowed low. “I spoke out of turn. Please forgive me.”

“I do,” Henry said, smiling and patting her on the shoulder. “Give me the clothes I need.”

An older woman with graying hair in a braid approached with the guard, a glass compu-tablet in her hands.

“My lord Patton-Avernell,” she said. “I am told you wish to buy this maid's contract?”

“That is correct.”

“And you are aware that she is a criminal and—”

“I'm quite aware. Thank you.”

The abruptness was a mixture of trying to look authoritative and not allowing himself to be talked out of it.

“I have your accounts here,” she said, “and you have quite an ample amount to pay her transfer. Shall I use your coin account?”

“Yes,” Henry said, but he wished he had looked at Vindy sooner as he saw her trying to subtly shake her head. Well, it was too late now.

The coordinator tapped a few things and Henry signed.

“She is now free to be bonded to your house,” the coordinator said.

“Uh—”

Smoothly, Vindy stepped up beside him, in one movement removed his stylus from its pocket on his gauntlet, handed it to him, and turned to the newly bonded maid who was shaking. Out of fear or relief, Henry wasn't sure.

“Remove your clothes,” Vindy said, her voice harsh. Henry wanted to correct her but he sensed there was something to her reason. Henry kept his eyes on the woman though his face heated up as she stripped out of her clothes until she was standing there naked. Vindy handed over the new clothes. “You are now Patton-Avernell. Your master has given you a second chance. He has honored you by adding you to his personal retinue. If you embarrass your master, the mistress will flay you alive.”

“I seek only to serve, my new master,” Eshu said, taking the fresh clothes and clutching them to her chest. Tears were streaming down her face.

“Dress, please,” Henry said, trying not to let his voice break.

Quickly, Eshu slipped the skirt up onto her hips and covered her chest with the top, then folded her hands in front of her and bowed her head.

“Stay with me,” Henry said. “We'll finish everything when we get back to the estate.”

Eshu followed by Henry with Vindy behind her as he returned towards where his Mistress was. Every step of the way, the young man had a sinking feeling that he may have done something she was going to be very unhappy with. As they approached, he saw Maevin glance up, stop, and that one eyebrow raise in confusion and consternation.

Finally standing before her, Henry grinned awkwardly and rubbed the back of his neck.

“Uh—”

“Who is this?” Maevin asked, and the question wasn't directed at him. Henry was pretty sure that wasn't a question.

“Eshu, my lady,” the new maid said, head bowed.

“It is Mistress,” Maevin said, her voice becoming ice.

“I beg your forgiveness, Mistress.”

“Your sig-com.”

The woman held out her hand, activating the device, and Maevin quickly skimmed it, her countenance growing darker.

“You...are a penal contract and you have failed all five of your rounds.”

“Yes, Mistress.”

Maevin Maer stood there. Henry could see the war in her face but she waved her hand, shutting the holograph off, and gestured dismissively.

“Join the others, Maid.”

As Eshu walked away, Maevin stepped forward, her gaze directly on Henry. Her eyes searched his face and all he could do was grin like an idiot. She finally relaxed.

“You are too softhearted, my master.”

She was not wrong.

“I just couldn't let her be sent to the mines and she looks genuinely remorseful.”

The mistress of Blue Blossom sighed and rubbed her forehead. “I understand but you added her to your personal retinue. Why did you decide that?”

“Uh...personal retinue?”

The dark haired woman looked at him with disbelief. “You didn't know that paying out of your personal credit account made her part of your retinue. She's your personal maid now.”

“Oh.” Oh.

Before he could say anything, Maevin turned back to the collection of maids that appeared to be recently bonded to Blue Blossom.

“Eshu.”

The new maid hurried over and bowed her head. To Henry's horror, Maevin stepped closer, grabbed the woman's hair, and pulled her head back roughly.

“If you harm or allow my master to come to harm due to your temper or negligence, I will torture you to the edge of your life and then I will slit your throat and let you bleed out slowly. Do you understand?”

Eshu swallowed, burgundy eyes wide in terror, and then nodded as best she could. Maevin let go and motioned her to leave.

“Jeez, Maevin,” Henry said, trying to catch his breath. “You didn't have to scare her like that.”

“I wasn't trying to,” she responded. “I was quite serious. I cannot fathom why you decided to do this, but she needed to understand what I will do if you come to harm.”

“I just wanted to save her,” Henry responded.

Maevin's eyebrow went up again and that mischievous grin came to her face. “Save her, my master? Is that all?”

Henry looked over to where Eshu was bending over to pick up some of the luggage, her short skirt shorter than he had expected.

“I believe I now know why you took her contract,” Maevin said smugly. “You do have a thing for backsides and she appears to have a rather nice one.”

“Maevin.” Henry started, his face burning.

“I shall make sure she is dressed so that you may enjoy the view whenever you please.”

“Maevin!”

“And here I was hoping my backside would be enough to satiate your lust.”

“Maevvviinn,” Henry whined, his face now redder than it probably had ever been.

This was going to be a long flight home.

Discuss...

Excerpt from: Journal of Comparative Imperial Sociology, Vol. 14, Issue 3
Subject Classification: Xaltean Studies — Labour Culture — Noble Household Organisation
Reference Population: Bonded service staff, mid-tier noble estates, Victory (Inner Colonies)

Abstract

This article examines the daily temporal structure of household service as practiced in Xaltean noble estates on the planet Victory, with particular attention to the scheduling demands imposed by Victory's 34-hour day and its pronounced seasonal daylight variation. The analysis is intended for Terran readers without prior familiarity with Xaltean timekeeping conventions or the institutional structure of bonded service. Reference schedules are provided for peak summer (month of Thuris) and deep winter (month of Keth) conditions. The article argues that the organisation of the maid's working day reflects not merely logistical necessity but a coherent cultural logic in which the management of time itself is a primary expression of professional competence.

The planet Victory was chosen due to its importance to the Empire as a core sector but also do the recent installment of a Terran as Lord of the ruling estate.

1. Contextual Framework: The Victory Day

Any analysis of labor patterns on Victory must begin with the most fundamental environmental variable: the length of the local day. Victory's rotational period is 34 Earth hours, compared to the Terran standard of 24. Xalteans, who are believed to share common ancestral biological heritage with Terrans and exhibit comparable sleep requirements of approximately eight hours per cycle, therefore possess a waking period of roughly 26 Earth hours per day which is a figure approximately 63% greater than the Terran equivalent.

The implications for labor organisation are significant. Where a Terran working day of eight hours represents approximately 50% of available waking time, an equivalent eight-hour shift on Victory represents only 31%. Xaltean labor culture has evolved accordingly, and the resulting structures differ from Terran norms in ways that can appear counter-intuitive to outside observers without adequate contextual framing.

Xaltean timekeeping divides the day into eight equal units called Arcs, each equivalent to approximately 4 hours and 15 Earth minutes. Arcs are subdivided into Segments (8 per Arc), Counts (8 per Segment), and Pulses (8 per Count). Household scheduling operates primarily at the Arc and Segment level. Throughout this article, times are expressed in Victory Local Time (VLT) Arc notation with Earth-hour equivalents provided for Terran reference.

2. Seasonal Variation and Its Structural Consequences

Victory's axial tilt of 29 degrees compared to Earth's 23.5 degrees which produces a markedly more pronounced seasonal daylight cycle than Terran observers are accustomed to. At peak summer solstice, Victory receives approximately 28 Earth hours of daylight per 34-hour day. At winter solstice, this figure falls to approximately 6 Earth hours which is a differential of 22 Earth hours between seasonal extremes.

This variation has direct and measurable consequences for household scheduling. The compression of usable daylight into a six-hour window during winter months requires households to reorganize their operational priorities around that window in ways that have no Terran parallel. Conversely, the near-continuous daylight of peak summer disrupts conventional associations between light and social activity, as the evening social hours that Xaltean noble culture treats as culturally significant occur in conditions of full or near-full daylight.

It is therefore not possible to describe a single representative Xaltean working day. The seasonal schedules presented in Sections 4 and 5 of this article should be understood as representative points on a continuous seasonal gradient rather than as fixed institutional norms.

3. The Institutional Structure of Bonded Service

Before examining specific scheduling patterns, it is necessary to briefly characterize the institutional context in which those patterns operate. Bonded service in Xaltean estates is a contractual labor arrangement formalized under what is called the Imperial Contract Code. The bond is a legal instrument specifying the terms of service, duration, compensation structures, and the obligations of both parties. It is not, as Terran observers sometimes assume from the terminology, a form of forced involuntary servitude; the legal protections afforded to bonded staff are substantive and regularly enforced.

The labor performed by bonded eemodae in a modern Xaltean estate is not primarily physical in character. Estate infrastructure like climate management, food preparation systems, sanitation, building maintenance is technologically comparable to standards found across the Inner core worlds. The maid's professional function is the management and execution of those tasks that technology performs inadequately or is not managed my said technology. For example, in the case of Blue Blossom Estate, they hand pick much of their fruit instead of using machines as a continuation of their tradition.

The internal hierarchy of a maid staff is well-defined. The head maid known as an Arch Maid exercises operational command over a section called Legions. These positions are numbered with higher the number, the lower in rank they are and they are called Orders. For example the present leader of the Estate Legion is Arch Maid Nish Kevet who is a 1st Order Estate Maid.

4. Summer Schedule: Peak Daylight Conditions

Reference conditions: Month of Thuris. Daylight approximately 28 Earth hours per 34-hour day.

The summer season represents the period of maximum social and operational activity for a noble estate. Travel is easier, social events are numerous, and the estate receives visitors at its highest seasonal frequency. The staff operates at maximum capacity during precisely the period when the extended daylight might suggest a reduced urgency. The thermal accumulation of the long summer day presents a secondary operational consideration: outdoor activity is concentrated in the cooler early Arcs, and the midday rest is observed strictly as an operational efficiency measure rather than as cultural preference alone.

A notable feature of the summer schedule is the degree to which the conventional day-night distinction loses organisational significance. Arc 7, the penultimate Arc before sleep, still carries daylight in Thuris conditions. The household's social activities, which in Terran cultures typically conclude with darkness as a natural signal that activities must end.

An example of a scheduled held in the summer would be:

VLT	Earth Equiv.	Operational Activity
Arc 0 · Seg 4	~1:45 AM	Senior staff commence duty. Schedule review, guest requirement confirmation, coordination with household systems for morning service.
Arc 1 · Seg 0	~4:15 AM	Full staff complement on duty. Guest and family quarters prepared. Morning service staged. Household fully operational prior to family waking. Workers who operate outside have moved towards their jobs.
Arc 1 · Seg 4	~6:00 AM	Family and guests begin waking. Breakfast service commences. Morning appointments and correspondence facilitated. Senior maids attend family's public hours.
Arc 2 · Seg 0	~8:30 AM	Peak morning operational period. Delivery management, external household business, guest requests. Outdoor tasks prioritized during cooler conditions.
Arc 3 · Seg 0	~12:45 PM	Midday meal served. Staff rotation break commences. Off-rotation staff observe full rest period; summer heat conditions make this operationally, not merely customarily, significant.
Arc 3 · Seg 4	~2:30 PM	Afternoon service resumes.
Arc 4 · Seg 0	~5:00 PM	Formal visitor reception period. Estate presents primary social face. Senior maids attend receiving rooms.
Arc 5 · Seg 0	~9:15 PM	Extended afternoon service continues. Evening meal preparation commences alongside ongoing service. Full daylight persists.
Arc 6 · Seg 0	~1:30 AM	Evening meal served. Primary social Arc for the noble family; table may extend two or more hours during active social periods. Senior maids in continuous attendance.
Arc 7 · Seg 0	~5:45 AM	Dinner concluded. Family retires. Staff wind-down and personal time for off-watch staff. Ambient daylight remains in summer conditions.
Arc 7 · Seg 4	~7:30 AM	Night watch handover. Off-watch staff begin sleep cycle.
Arc 8 · Seg 0	~10:00 AM	Sleep cycle. Duration approximately one Arc before the cycle recommences.

Watch conditions, Thuris: The summer night watch is characterized by comparatively low operational demand. Estate systems manage environmental conditions autonomously. Primary watch responsibilities are guest responsiveness, late arrival management, and security protocol maintenance. The summer watch maid may productively apply quiet Segments to administrative backlog. By the standards of the winter watch, the Thuris posting is considered light duty.

5. Winter Schedule: Compressed Daylight Conditions

Reference conditions: Month of Keth. Daylight approximately 6 Earth hours per 34-hour day.

The winter schedule represents the most demanding operational period in the estate calendar, though not for reasons a Terran observer might initially identify. The estate's climate and comfort systems manage the physical consequences of Victory's winters effectively. The primary challenges of the Keth schedule are organisational and social in character.

Winter travel is significantly more demanding than summer travel, and visitors who undertake it in Keth do so with purpose. The estate staff can expect guests who arrive after extended travel in adverse conditions, whose requirements are both more pressing and less predictable than summer visitors. The compressed daylight window which effectively a single Arc of usable natural light centered on midday that requires the concentration of all light-dependent tasks into a period that may conflict with other household priorities, requiring careful advance coordination.

Noble families exhibit a well-documented seasonal behavioral shift in Keth conditions, sleeping later into the morning cycle and remaining at the evening table longer than in summer. The staff schedule must accommodate this shift while maintaining its own operational requirements which a balance that places particular weight on the advance preparation work done in the final Arcs of each cycle.

VLT	Earth Equiv.	Operational Activity
Arc 0 · Seg 2	~12:45 AM	Senior staff commence duty. Overnight systems review, arriving guest coordination, advance preparation assessment for the morning cycle.
Arc 0 · Seg 6	~3:00 AM	Extended preparatory work. Review of any outstanding travel arrivals expected. Advance staging for morning service.
Arc 1 · Seg 4	~6:00 AM	Full staff complement on duty. Guest and family quarters prepared. Noble family is not anticipated to wake for approximately one further Arc. Senior maids direct administrative tasks, junior staff briefings, and outstanding household business during this period.
Arc 2 · Seg 2	~9:30 AM	Family waking. Breakfast service. Natural light, where present, first visible at this hour on clear days. Morning proceeds at reduced tempo relative to summer.
Arc 3 · Seg 0	~12:45 PM	Peak daylight window. All tasks requiring natural light, detailed grounds assessments, inspections requiring accurate color or fine visual discrimination, any external business dependent on clear visibility are concentrated within this Arc. Staff who have been operational since Arc 0 take their rotation break during this period.
Arc 3 · Seg 4	~2:30 PM	Daylight diminishing. Afternoon operations conducted under artificial light. Task focus shifts to evening preparation, administrative work, and the craft and textile projects that characterise the household's winter interior activity.
Arc 4 · Seg 0	~5:00 PM	Full darkness. Unscheduled arrivals at this hour are treated with heightened protocol.
Arc 5 · Seg 0	~9:15 PM	Evening meal. In Keth conditions, this represents the household's primary social and communal event of the day. Noble families typically extend the table significantly; senior maids facilitate without imposing conclusion.
Arc 6 · Seg 0	~1:30 AM	Dinner concluded. Evening social period if applicable. Staff begin advance preparation for the following morning cycle and experienced staff complete Arc 0 preparation during Arc 6 rather than leaving it to the morning.
Arc 6 · Seg 4	~3:15 AM	Staff wind-down. Personal time for off-watch staff. In Keth conditions, this period is described consistently in staff accounts as one of the more valued intervals of the day.
Arc 7 · Seg 0	~5:45 AM	Night watch handover. Off-watch staff begin sleep cycle.
Arc 7 · Seg 4 – Arc 8	~7:30 AM onward	Sleep cycle. The household is still.

Watch conditions, Keth: The winter watch represents the most demanding posting in the annual rotation and is not assigned to junior staff under any standard operational protocol. Responsibilities extend beyond routine monitoring to include the management of genuine contingencies: guests arriving in poor condition after extended winter travel, system anomalies requiring immediate human coordination, and the full range of medical and logistical responses that adverse travel conditions may necessitate. The Keth watch maid operates independently for the duration of her posting and must be capable of making complex decisions without supervisory reference. It is documented in several estate traditions that the Keth watch assignment functions informally as an assessment instrument — a practical demonstration of readiness for elevated responsibility.

6. The Imperial Standard Time Correction and Its Household Implications

A timekeeping feature of Victory with no direct Terran analogue warrants specific note. Imperial Standard Time (IST) is anchored to an atomic constant which is a Standard Day of 33.75 Earth hours which differs from Victory's actual rotational period of 34 Earth hours by approximately 15 minutes. This differential accumulates at a rate of roughly 15 minutes of drift per Victory day, reaching a threshold correction point every 63 Victory days, at which point clocks are advanced to re-synchronize with the IST standard.

The practical consequence is that a measurable portion of a day, not dramatic in isolation but operationally significant if unaccounted for and is effectively removed from the schedule at the correction point. Households that track the correction cycle and plan around it experience minimal disruption. Those that do not may find service schedules misaligned with the family's expectations in ways that reflect poorly on the First's administrative competence.

The correction event has acquired minor cultural acknowledgment in some estate traditions. A brief institutional recognition that time itself required adjustment and the household accommodated it without service interruption. Whether this practice carries meaningful cultural weight beyond its function as a scheduling marker is a question for further ethnographic study.

7. Observations on Temporal Competence as Professional Identity

The preceding analysis suggests that for eemodae in Xaltean noble households, the management of time is not merely a logistical function but a primary dimension of professional identity. The ability to anticipate the household's requirements in advance and to have service prepared before it is requested, morning staging complete before the family wakes, winter preparation done before the morning rather than during it is the visible marker by which professional competence is assessed and communicated within the staff hierarchy.

The seasonal schedule variation documented here is not experienced by staff as an external imposition but as a domain of professional knowledge. An experienced maid knows the Keth schedule as she knows the Thuris schedule — as a practitioner's knowledge, adapted and applied without reference to a written guide. The question of how this knowledge is transmitted, formalized, and assessed within the apprenticeship structure of the maid hierarchy is a productive subject for subsequent inquiry.

---

Correspondence regarding this article should be directed to the Journal of Comparative Imperial Sociology. The authors acknowledge assistance from the Clear Springs Estate of House Nevakev for correction and assistance in understanding the process.

One of the more unique facets of the Xaltean culture is the use of titles. Many humans may related to our own like President, Teacher, and military ranks. While the Xalteans have many of those, they have a unique system of speaking to each other based upon position and status.

This short article is to document the more commonly known titles and expressions when speaking to each other and introduction.

Xaltean Royal Titles

The Empire has a royal title system called the tamae heheeba and also the eemodae heheeba for those within the house system. These are the Xaltean titles in order of rank. Though not written out here to save clutter, each rank except for Emperor/Empress and High Baron/Baroness has a color ranking in the order of White, Red, Blue and Green which is attached at the end of their rank. Example shinda kit or Lord of the Green.

Please know the English words selected are chosen based off the position and authority found equivalent in our own society.

• Emperor (enekxihanma) / Empress (enekihanma)
• High Baron (shindakma)
• Baron (shindak)
• Duke (rotunaeten)
• Earl (rotunaemaxavien)
• Lord (shinda)
• Lord of Honor (shivxihanxa) / Lady of Honor (shivkihanxa)

Speaking to Each Other

In an interesting twist, among the house system, the maids have their own forms addressed based on who is junior and who is senior but also based on any specific role they might hold and across estates.

Colleague – The word colleague or vivael is used between maids who are not within the same legion and is usually used between 10th order to 5th order maids. This is a default title when speaking to someone one is confident is not in the 3rd order or higher and unsure. It is considered polite to correct the usage with the proper response and is not seen as an insult. It is also appropriate to use across estates and houses.

Peer – The word peer or shivael has special rules to it when to use and when to not use. As peer carries the connotations of an equal, one must be careful on its usage. Peer is usually used when the following occasions:

• The person being spoken to is of 3rd order or higher
• The person being spoken to is part of the same or equal position outside of their respective estate.
• Is an honored maid.

Compeer – The word compeer or levatamae is like the word peer but is used between 3rd order or higher among their own house but across legions. It is also appropriate to use in apprentice situations. For example, it would be inappropriate for a mistress or steward apprentice to refer to their mistress or steward as peer. The proper would be compeer.

Privileged – The title and greeting of privileged or smavael is given to maids and others who are on assignment to a house other than their own. This may be given to maids who are in training at another allied house and are staying on the premise.

Honored – Honored or nivael are special titles for maids who are assigned as personal servants of a Lord or Lady of an estate or have been assigned as the go between between two parties. They hold a unique position as immediately being trusted as they are representatives of their estate and/or house. Abusing or insulting an honored maid is doing the same to those they represent. Interestingly, there is no order limitation for this position. A lord could choose a 10th order harvester and appoint her. As referenced above, Honored maids may use the term peer for those who are above their station.

Ending

Those this does not cover all the nuances of speech and title, it does give diplomats and others who may encounter and interact with the Xaltean houses a grounding on speaking with them.

Abandoned again. Well, not abandoned, but that's what it felt like. Siv brushed down the front of her long bekae, which was a long piece of sky blue cloth she pulled over her head and cinched at the sides with a wide violet sash. It allowed her a lot of movement as it didn't restrict her legs. Yes, her hips showed easily, but she didn't mind. She preferred the freedom of movement. Not only that, she had trained as a smekihanxa with the Peridot Order of House Aldinav. As a courtesan in training, it meant she was used to being around people of higher ranks than most maids and was much more familiar. Siv had learned the art of the laugh, the witty banter, and how to touch someone's arm or shoulder in just the right way to make them relax. Unfortunately, she wasn't cut out for courtesan work after causing a rather embarrassing situation between two houses. Since then it had taken practice to remember how proper she should be.

Siv shivered at that thought but focused on what she was doing now. She was an Estate Maid of the 1st Order and a Mistress Apprentice. Those were big things to focus on, but the young woman had earned Mistress Maevin Maer's trust. Siv had been left in charge as Mistress in Standing since Maevin had to handle the Council of Servants for the planet. That was not something Siv wanted to be involved with.

Smoothing her dress out once more, checking the red silk scarf around her waist and running her hands through her two-tone hair, Siv gently rapped on the wooden door of her Lord's office.

“Come in!”

Henry Patton always sounded so exuberant. His curiosity and fascination always brought a smile to Siv's face. He was even gentle with her and the servants, which endeared everyone to him even more. The young woman stepped in, placed one hand atop the other at her waist, and bowed.

“eta mleteematae Siv beti, xixihanvashav.” Siv is here to serve, my master.

“Oh! Siv!”

There was that smile. Her lord was quite excited today. He had a bunch of compu-pads all over his desk, their crystal screens catching the sunlight through the window at odd angles. The entire desk had the look of someone who had been digging through information for the better part of the morning. The window behind him was wide open and a nice breeze was blowing through.

“I have something for you to do. Maevin was going to handle it but things got moved up; she's on the other side of the planet you know.”

Yeah, she knew. The world of the Houses was always moving and it was a delicate dance due to how much the houses could mistrust each other.

“What is it th