Tales Around Blue Blossom

Henry Patton had been awake for about twenty minutes when he realized something was wrong with his schedule. Specifically, there wasn't one where there should have been one. At the moment he was finishing up his breakfast, and she was standing by his side waiting because he always took too long.

“Maevin,” he said, staring at the tablet in his hand. Every hour of the day was empty except for one block that stretched from morning until well past noon. “What is Remembrance Day?”

“A matter regarding the education of the estate's Lord,” Mistress Maevin Maer said as she took the tablet out of his hands. It disappeared into the sleeve of her white summer robes before he could protest. “You will not need that, my master.”

“That makes me nervous.”

Maevin only smiled that cunning smile that always made him a bit nervous. As she motioned for the maids to take away his plates, Henry had a feeling that something was up, and she was not going to let him in on it. As if to confirm it, Henry was pretty sure there was a smirk somewhere hidden on her face.

“Maevin.”

“Yes, my master?”

“Where are we going?”

“Promise,” she said, not looking at him, “it's not an ambush.”

Henry's eyes narrowed. “I remember saying that to you recently.”

“Oh? I hadn't noticed.” Maevin responded, looking over her shoulder with a twinkle in her eyes.

Alright. Now here was nervous.

---

Tula was waiting at the end of the gravel path past the east gardens. It was not often that Henry saw the woman with two large, luscious violet pigtails that she also liked to weave golden threads into, which glistened in the sun.

“Tula,” he said slowly.

“Have you had a good breakfast, my master?” She asked with her characteristic husky voice.

It appeared that this Estate Maid of the 4th Order was not going to be on his side today either.

They walked together past the lake road with Tula trailing behind. The cultivated woods thickened and the sound of the creek came and went through the trees. At the edge of a long meadow Henry spotted another familiar maid waiting for them, standing with her arms crossed and her eyes also happy. Henry Patton smiled and waved to Xion, who gracefully bowed back.

Before Henry could say anything, his eyes wandered across the meadow, a great flattened woven disc, thick cord-bands running from crown to rim in long curves like the lines on a globe. It shaded from deep blue at the top to the pale of a morning sky at the skirt. Across its face, dark against the lighter weave, was the sigil that Henry recognized as House Avernell which was a solid circle flanked by two arcs, with a single dot above and below. Two broad crescents of the same woven cloth hung out on either side like folded wings. As he watched, the whole envelope began to lift, drawn up by a warmth that made the fabric glow a soft amber from the inside.

Under it hung a ring of woven tan fiber with a low canopy, a central column, and four diamond-shaped lanterns at its edges. Ribbons fluttered from the tether lines, ending in small triangular weights.

“What...” Henry started. “...is that?”

“A balloon, my master,” Maevin said as they walked up towards it. “I believe you have such things among your people. It is how mine crossed the mountains and surveyed the valleys of Xaltea long before anyone dreamed of the stars.”

“Why?”

“Because we hadn't completely figured out other modes of transportation yet.”

“Not that,” Henry said knowing she was yanking his proverbial chain. For the months they had been together, he had begun to learn Maevin's subtle ways she messed with him and the others.

Maevin's smile got brighter knowing the game was up. “You once mentioned you wanted to know more about our people, so I thought to show you as it is time for Remembrance Day.”

Henry felt his stomach drop. “And you conveniently remembered my issue with heights.”

“Whatever do you mean?” Maevin responded innocently. “If it is too much for you to handle, you can just say so, and we'll forgo the trip today.”

Oh, she's good at this, Henry groused to himself. This was definitely revenge for the bicycle incident a few days before.

“Fine,” he said, pulling up his pants a bit and tightening his belt. “Bring it on.”

Tula did not need to giggle at that moment.

---

The first hurdle was the clothes.

“Umm,” Henry said.

“It is the traditional flight dress, Master. Though not a requirement but it would look good for your reputation if you wore it.”

The garment was a quilted wrap in layers of blue and cream that tied at the side with a wide ribbon sash. Tula, whose duty it was help him dress, had arranged the sleeves and tied the knot that was holding it together. The collar stood up almost to his ears. Xion, who was standing guard fifteen feet away and had not spoken once, made a very small sound that might have been a cough.

“You like traditional.”

That was what she'd said the first time she dressed him, when he'd been barely out of a coma and still unsure he belonged in this place. He knew it, and she knew he knew it. Henry decided that was unfair.

“It is very uncomfortable,” Henry said trying not to sound insulting, but he could feel it pressing on his clothes that it was put on over.

“You are technically supposed to not be wearing any underlayers, but I assumed you preferred to keep them on. I can have Tula and Xion help undress you if you'd like to be more comfortable.”

“You are enjoying this way too much,” Henry said.

“I cannot imagine what you mean, my master.”

She walked to the gondola and returned carrying something small and round. She held it out to him without any expression at all.

It was a cushion.

“For the seat,” Maevin said. “The slats are woven and hard. Someone once explained to me the importance of a cushion. I learned from an expert, my master.”

Yup. That was proof. She hadn't let the grudge go and was going to make him pay.

There were rules, which a stooped, silver-haired man that Maevin called a windwright had to tell them. He was in a plain gray flight wrap and worked diligently on the contraption. The man had glanced at the two of them as they arrived, nodded as though a Lord and his Mistress were no more interesting than a pair of wine crates, and gone back to checking the trim vanes.

“There were three rules. The windwright's word was the only word aboard. Titles stayed on the ground. And whatever was said aloft was said honestly,” Maevin explained as she took his hand and let him help her up the step as the balloon had begun to rise.

“It is said that the rules of the windwrights are older than the Empire itself,” she continued

“Even the Empress?”

“Yes.”

Next came the ribbons. The windwright held out two strips of cloth, one blue and one amber, and Maevin took the blue one and tied it to the tether line with a small, perfect bow.

“We leave them on the lines,” she explained, passing him the amber one. “The word for farewell, aeholavu, is built from two parts. Aeho is to depart. Lavu is witness. Depart witnessed. The ribbons are the witness. They stay on the ground and remember who left it.”

“This is part of the Rememberance?” Henry said.

“Yes.”

Henry tied his the way his father had taught him, a plain overhand he'd used on shoelaces and for the calf that needed kept near their mother.

“Do not forget the prayer,” The windwright said hoarsely as he moved to another end of the balloon to check it.

“Say it to the wind,” Maevin explained. “Before boarding. nata isa buk onava mi ovama. eta bavelu mi sonu.“

The air is large and I am small. Carry me kindly. That's what Henry was pretty sure that it meant.

Repeating the words, the air seemed to whip around him for a moment tugging at his clothes and cooling his face. The Terran lord could not help but grin.

The windwright spoke, without looking up. “The wind is listening.”

---

Henry had braced for noise. He remembered videos from Earth, big roaring burners and gouts of flame. There was none of that though. The heater at the center of the ring gave off nothing but a faint steady warmth against his face, like standing near a sunlit wall, and a low hum he felt more than heard.

The ground let go of them so slowly that he didn't realize it was happening until Tula and Xion were small figures with their arms at their sides, and the meadow had become a pale green square, and the trees had gone from walls to a rumpled carpet.

Henry's hands found the rail and stayed there. “Okay,” he told nobody. “This is fine.”

“Eyes on the horizon, my master,” Maevin said serenely. She looked entirely too comfortable. “It helps.”

“You're enjoying this.”

“I am concerned for your comfort, my master. The windwright can bring us down at any moment. It is no shame. Many lords prefer the ground.”

That was the exact thing to say to make him stay, and she knew it. He lifted his eyes to the horizon. The world opened out, wide and blue and silent.

“Wow,” Henry said quietly.

They stood side by side on the slats with their backs to the central column, both facing outward over the railing. The sky was bright blue and the sun brilliant to look at. Henry had also noticed other balloons in the distance as others began to take off. He could make out the different sigils and their courses were not same as his.

“Where are we headed?” Henry asked as the balloon banked slightly from the windwright's manipulation.

“Shaenvu, the southern city and second largest on the planet,” Maevin responded. “It is also under House Patton-Avernell.”

“Is there an estate there?”

“Opal Horizon Estate of House Medekin,” Maevin responded with a nod.

Silence reigned between them as they moved across the sky. Henry had to look down a few times just to confirm they were actually making any progress. The wind was pleasant with only a few gusts that buffeted them. His heart leapt into this throat a few times but Maevin didn't even flinch.

“Tell me more about this Remembrance?”

Maevin nodded as she turned to face him. “Remembrance is what marked the change of our people from the violence to the golden age of Xaltea. Before, we fought bloody wars between each other, killing indiscriminately. We were barbaric but it was Emperor Gaeldin of House Toshet that united all the warring houses into what is today. He founded the Gray Council, pulled the houses together in the Great and the Minor, created the registry, and forged a new world for us. The Emperor poured money into the economy and sciences bring us into a new age of technology.”

“Oh, I see! Like an industrial revolution on earth?” Henry asked.

The Mistress nodded. “Yes but instead of steam and gasoline you had on Terra, we harnessed the sun with the use of mirror fields. Great arrays of polished stone and metal that focused the sunlight onto heat cores. Blocks of salt-glass and ceramic soaked up that heat by day and gave it back through the night, so our machines did not stop when the sun set. Pumps, mills, looms, even the tracked carts ran on sun-engines. It is why our industry grew where the light was, on the plateaus and sun-facing slopes. Blue Blossom’s vineyards sit where they do for the same reason. That is until our species figured out fusion to the point we could pierce the layer and enter nullspace.”

The Terran Lord nodded realizing how different the Xaltean technology had actually evolved. “So this celebration is for that.”

“It is,” Maevin said with a nod. “The stop of endless bloodshed and the beginning of our new era.”

Silence reigned between the two as Henry sat with what he was told. Every time he thought he had learned something about the people who were hosting him, he discovered something new. It had never crossed his mind what the world must have been like before the discovery of the technology that powered the majority of the galaxy.

“Thanks for taking me on this and telling me about it,” He finally said as the windwright banked the airship again.

“You are quite welcome.”

“Does this make us even for the bicycle?” Henry asked tentatively.

“It does not.”

All the young man could do was laugh.

It was really early in the morning when Abiva found herself in the main estate's kitchens. The morning cycle had not started yet and so it was only Burdak Rikol, their Arch Maid of the Scullery Battalion and head chef for all Lord Henry Patton-Avernell's food, and a few of the early morning maids that assisted him.

At that moment, Burdak was doing his best not to grin while Abiva looked dejectedly at the smoldering black circle on the skillet that she had been using. The red head glared at it with an anger that she rarely gave anyone.

“At least, this time, it's not on fire,” Burdak said, the laugh almost breaking through. Abiva glared at him hoping it would murder the cook.

“Well,” Abiva groused. “Don't leave me in suspense. What did I do wrong?”

“The heat is still too high, and the batter was to thin. It burned before you had a chance to flip it,” He explained.

“That's what I did last time!”

Burdak did not hide the laugh this time. “No, the last time you put it on too thick, got distracted looking for the chocolate chips you should have had ready and caused the entire pan to catch on fire.”

“I forgot where I put them,” the Arch Maid of the Estate Legion side taking the skillet over to the trash can and scraping roughly with the spatula to deposit her failure on top of the other ones. She came back sullen, her green eyes filled with irritation.

Burdak took the old skillet and handed the woman another one. “Why are you trying to make this...pancakes?”

“Because Lord Henry likes them. I heard him telling the Mistress once that his mother used to make these things called chocolate chip pancakes and a database search showed they're a lot like our gorelushivmot, so I thought I could make it.”

“Can you make gorelushivmot?” Burdak inquired with a twinkle in his eyes.

Abiva avoided eye contact as she rocked a bit on her heel. “No. Not really.”

“Can you cook anything?”

“Only if you want it on fire.” said another voice from the corner. It was quiet but in the kitchens that hadn't started their morning activities, it was loud. Abiva spun on her heel, eyes blazing at the newcomer. Nish Kevet stood there with a set of folded sheets with a rare grin on her face.

“Nish!” Abiva hissed at her lover. “Be somewhere else.”

“I'm just warning the Arch Maid,” Nish continued making her way to the door. “You almost burned down our quarters a few years ago.”

“Shush!” Abiva hissed threatening to throw the salt shaker on the counter at her. Nish skipped out, and the red head turned back, her cheeks matching her hair.

“Alright,” Burdak said taking the skillet. “Let's try again. This time, we're going to try on a lower heat and with more butter. Don't rush it.”

“Yes, sir.”

“And where are the chocolate chips?”

Abiva moved the bag from the counter behind her on to the counter by the stove.

---

The kitchen was now busy when Abiva decided that the batch she had in front of her was the best batch she was going to make. A lot more batter died in the line of duty but this time, there were a lot less burned spots and no leaking, uncooked batter. The young woman was actually proud of her that she only set two more on fire in the process.

Burdak had been plating them with a grin. “You did very well, Arch Maid.”

The woman grinned.

“Do I smell pancakes?”

Abiva's heart jumped, and her skin went cold at the voice coming from the doorway. She turned trying not to fall over herself, saw both her Lord and her Mistress and quickly folded her hands in front of her and bowed.

“My master!” Abiva said, her voice dry and scratchy, trying her best not to shake.

Henry Patton had walked up to the counter where Burdak had just set down the three pancakes and she secretly wanted to hug that chef. He had put the best ones she had made and hid the other ones behind him. The Terran lord looked at them with eyes wide.

“I didn't know you could make these!”

“Abiva and I thought it would be an excellent addition to your breakfast, my lord,” Burdak said pushing the plate forward and Abiva wasn't upset he took some of the credit. He was excellent at reading the room and the icy stare she was getting from Mistress made her even more nervous. The maid's left wrist gave her a phantom ache from where Maevin had dislocated the last time she got out of line.

“Can I try some?”

“Please!” Abiva said, the excitement a bit too overboard which caused Maevin's eyes to narrow.

“This is a batch that Maid Abiva made as we experimented with creating them,” Burdak said offering a fork.

Henry pulled up the stool closer, hopped on it and dug in. After two bites, he broke into a big grin. “These are delicious! I can't believe you were able to get the ingredients for it. These aren't anything like the breads you make here. It tastes like home.”

“We imported bleached wheat flour and chocolate chips from Terra to make sure they were authentic,” Burdak continued as Abiva braced herself on the counter trying not to hyperventilate from happiness that he liked her cooking. She was going to rub that compliment into Nish's face tonight.

Henry reached over and patted Abiva's hand with a smile. “You did great. Thank you! Tasted just like home.”

Yeah. She was going to faint from happiness.

Whatever their mission was continued as Henry scooped up the plate to take with him and Abiva tried her best not to get burned from the glare she was getting from Maevin. Goddess, I'm gonna get the awful jobs for the next week.

“I'll cover for you,” Burdak grinned starting to clean up.

“What?”

“I heard through the grapevine about the incident with Lord Henry and Maevin's reaction. I'll smooth it over for her so that you don't take the brunt.”

Abiva couldn't help herself but threw her arms around the man and gave him a crushing hug. “I don't deserve a friend like you.”

“Shoo,” Burdak laughed pushing her back. “You got work to do, and I have to get the kitchens start.”

Abiva did her best not to skip on her way to her first assignment.

Henry Patton pushed his light brown hair out of his eyes as he admired what he had set up. They were on a support road near the fields, a stretch that was almost never used, and everything was just the way he had wanted it since the Terran had come up with the idea.

There was so much to take into consideration. The fact that he had to bring Siv in to it (because Henry was very aware of the need for decorum since humiliation was so bad for Xalteans) for setting up and importing what he needed. Nish Kevet, his Estate Legion Arch Maid, was brought in because she knew how to keep her mouth shut and knew how to route the field crews so the rest of the estate personnel wouldn't stumble onto the road. Both were sworn to secrecy on pain of everything he could do to them. Now, it was just time to wait.

When the woman he was waiting for came around the bend, he had to stop for a moment to admire her. Mistress Maevin Maer was beautiful, and only a fool would not notice that. Her soft but striking features, long black hair, and blue eyes that seemed to rip your very soul apart. Henry had seen many a maid cower in front of her wrath. This time though, they were filled with suspicion, darting around as if she were walking into a trap. It probably didn't help that she was wearing a fitted athletic top and a pair of sports shorts, the fabric a fraction of what she was used to, and she kept tugging at the hem.

“Maevin!” Henry said grinning and walking over to her. Her eyes locked on his though the suspicion lessened seeing him. “Promise. It's not an ambush.”

“Not that I would think you would do that, my master, but you cannot blame me. Siv insisted I wear this because you requested it, and then she refused to tell me why.”

Henry had bought the outfit himself, and Siv had been under strict orders to see that Maevin wore it. Siv herself walked two steps behind, her two-toned strawberry and straw hair catching the sunlight. She gave Henry a very pleasant and conspiratorial smile. The Mistress must have caught on as her head snapped around glaring at the other maid who dropped her head but not her smile.

“What are you plotting?” Maevin growled.

“Siv, if you and Nish could please start what I asked.”

The young woman bowed and hurried off. Henry strode up to his Mistress excitedly and motioned towards the long, empty stretch of packed dirt road with the fields rolling out on either side. In the middle of it was a bicycle.

“What...is that?” Maevin said, her eyes narrowing.

“A bicycle! We talked about it a month ago, remember?” Henry continued gently placing his hand on her arm and leading her toward it.

“You mean the foot powered device that your people use to get around places?”

“Yes! You had mentioned it would be interesting to see, so I had Siv import one from the Earth Alliance.”

“Why?”

“Because I can show you!”

With the ease of someone who grew up using them, Henry threw his leg over the blue bike and began to ride around on it, forgetting how much he loved it as a child. He didn't stay on the road though, going out onto the grass along the edge of the field, pedaling up the embankment and then riding back down it with no hands. God, how much he missed this.

When he came to a stop, the look of sheer consternation on Maevin's face made him wish he had a camera. Kicked down the kickstand, he got off of it with a hop, skip, and sore muscles that weren't used to such things.

“That...is interesting,” Maevin offered. “I can see how useful it would be if powered vehicles aren't present.”

“Your turn!” Henry said grinning. “I'll teach you!”

“No.”

The way she responded was abrupt and final which made Henry only want to laugh. He didn't though. The way she used the word was not the imperious command of a Mistress but that of a child refusing to do something their parent told them to do.

“Oh, come on,” Henry said letting the grin escape. He tugged on her arm, but she refused to budge.

“It would be undignified for me to be on that...thing,” Maevin countered. “And in this.”

“Already thought of that. You told me how much embarrassment and shame is in your culture. That's why I had Siv pick this secluded road, Nish plan today's field routes around it, and put them on guard, so there isn't anyone to stumble in on us.”

Henry gestured to the tall, dense hedgerow that bordered the road, easily twelve feet high. “There is no way anyone would see you and I told Siv that both of them are going to get the cane if anyone sees you.”

Mistress Maevin stared at the metal contraption in front of her, the hesitation still on her face. “If you order me to, I shall do it.”

“But I don't want to order you,” Henry countered. “I want to show my friend. You'd make me happy if you did it.”

Maevin's face twisted for a moment before she relented. “That's worse, Master.”

The woman walked over, staring at the seat and then began to look around.

“What? Something missing?” Henry asked surprised. “I made sure no one was around.”

“I need a cushion for that narrow seat of rubber,” she responded nonplussed.

“Why? I bought the shorts so you'd be comfortable.”

“These are scraps of fabric, my master, and I am not accustomed to wearing anything beneath what I wear. So, unless you plan to massage my legs after, I need a cushion.”

“Cushion it is!”

Henry darted across to the nearest door of the field supply shed, found the smallest cushion workers would use on the bench inside, and came back. He offered it to her with a grin and she glared.

“What?”

“You're enjoying this too much.”

Yes, yes he was.

Laying the cushion down on the seat, Maevin tugged the hem of her shorts down once more, as if that would do anything, and swung her rather flawless leg over and sat down on it. She put one foot to the pedal and wobbled as she tried to lift the other. Henry walked up and placed a hand on her shoulder.

“Balance is better if you start moving.”

“I gathered.”

She began to move, and it wobbled again, and before he could think, he stepped forward and held on to her waist. Maevin looked over her shoulder at him but didn't say anything. Henry was quite aware this was closer and more contact than both were used to, especially with so little fabric between his hands and her, but he wasn't going to let his friend fall.

After a few pushes on the pedal, she nodded, and he let her go, watching her ride slowly but with a grace that he hadn't actually expected. It was when she hit the grass that he saw it lurch and her begin to overcompensate. Henry ran over to her, dove, and caught her in his arms before they all tumbled to the ground in a mixture of limbs and bicycle. She was half sitting in his lap, her cheeks and ears bright red.

“That was humiliating,” she groused.

“That's why I kept everyone away,” Henry responded trying to catch his breath and not freak out that there was a woman in his lap leaning up against him also breathing hard. For a moment, they just sat there, her warmth pressed up against him and maybe a bit too long. Both seemed to realize it and began to scramble to their feet.

She brushed the dirt and grass off herself and tugged her top and shorts back into place with as much dignity as the outfit allowed.

“Well, I tried it,” she said with wounded pride.

“It takes a little practice. We can try again tomorrow or—–”

“No.”

That word had a lot more finality than it did last time. Henry laughed.

“Alright, alright. But thanks for trying.”

“You're welcome,” she said, one of those smiles he enjoyed crossing her face, but then it darkened. “If you tell anyone, master, I shall find ways to exact my revenge.”

“Are you threatening me?” Henry said his grin getting bigger.

Her only answer was a little smirk.

Life at Blue Blossom estate had gone from a regular pacing of works to a haste that felt almost desperate. Siv had woken up that morning to an urgent ping from Mistress Maevin Maer, and from that point on she had been moving at a breakneck speed.

In a way, the 2nd order maid and Mistress in training was happy that her own Mistress trusted her. When Siv had gotten down to the first floor barely dressed, all the dark haired woman did was order her to handle guest hospitality and move on to pull harvester maids with estate certifications from the fields for extra support.

It felt like a massive weight on the woman with a two toned hair of blond and red. Guest hospitality meant food, quarters, assigned maids, and if she screwed this up, she would be in a world of hurt.

Of course, Siv was not going to be stupid. Her first stop after giving a quick bow to Maevin was to make her way to the Emissary Maids and refresh on what was expected for their guest. Their guest was none other than Countess Nadaela Vanen of House Vanen. She was infamous enough that even she had heard of her. House Vanen was an extremely powerful Gray Council house and only second to the Empress in influence. Rumors had it that Avernell and Vanen were rivals, but the appointment of Lord Henry Patton-Avernell made it worse. High Baron Hesh Avernell wanted to put a Terran in charge while Vanen's High Baron was fully against it. In the end, Hesh Avernell won, but if anything, these people were good at holding grudges. The fact that a powerful woman of said house was arriving unannounced sent a jolt of anxiety through her.

The official statement that Siv had learned was the Countess was on her way to Fort Aldric from her home world of Monolith and decided to stop by since they were in the area. Siv did not believe that explanation one bit.

Right now, she didn't care. They would be here in less than four hours, and even with all the prepping, they still felt unprepared. At that moment, Siv was half running, half walking towards the landing pad as security alerted her of the incoming shuttle from Black Fall Estate up north near Khelen. She was so haggard that she had a notion that her breasts had escaped her tvekel, but she didn't care. The woman only tucked them back after sprinting the last few yards under the colonnade that connected the main house and the shuttle pad. As she stepped forward, she waved away the security guards, who rightfully were suspicious as yet another rival house, House Devenek, had arrived, but her master had worked hard cultivating a relationship with them, and Siv was not going to undermine it.

Standing in front of her was a maid wearing her robe with fur trimmed around her neck and cuffs. A vivid blue wide sash was wrapped around her waist that contrasted against the darker gray, and silver tassels hung from the edge of said sash.

Maevin had made Siv study the maid orders and identification of the houses on Victory, and so she recognized an Estate Maid of the 3rd Order.

“Kita, Estate maid of the 3rd order,” the woman said stiffly with what looked like a sneer hidden in the corners of her mouth.

“Siv, Estate maid of the 2nd order,” she responded, and Kita gave a stiff bow recognizing her rank.

Kita gestured towards the shuttle that two servants had begun unloading two crates emblazoned with the Devenek crest from the back of the shuttle. The gentle clink of glass told her that her rivals had actually accepted her request.

“The ice liquor you requested,” Kita said. “From our master's private stores. He sends his respect and well wishes to your master and his visitor.”

Kaedral Ice Liquor, a special blend of kaedal bark that could only be found on a few moons orbiting the ice giant Veydra in the Haeshan System, which was on the other side of imperial space. It was the only produced alcohol that was comparable in taste and value to the Blue Wine Siv's estate made. It was also a favorite of Countess Vanen and would look good on Lord Henry to have it in stock. The liquor was also extremely expensive, and the fact that Duke Shantuk sent two cases made her impressed and anxious. Siv had only asked for two bottles, and these were sent. A favor for a favor, so she had no clue what would be asked of her later.

Siv bowed to the maid a lot deeper than she needed to acknowledge the gravity of the decision that was made. “Please thank your master for his kindness and to you for accepting my favor.”

Kita simply made a clicking sound with her mouth before turning and returning to her shuttle, which then took back off. Honestly, what else had Siv expected? She signaled to the two servants who had shown up to carry the cases to the kitchens, where Burdak Rikol, their Arch Maid of the Scullery Battalion, would be handling the serving of it.

Goddess, this is nerve-wracking, Siv thought to herself as she immediately turned back towards the estate proper and tried not to sprint.

---

Everything was prepared as it was going to be. That was something Siv had accepted as soon as she heard from the Mistress to gather in the grand foyer. There were still many things the 1st order maid wanted to get done, but they were out of time. Siv hoped that she hadn't missed anything.

As expected for a visiting dignitary, the Arch Maids, their assistants, and the 1st order maids were present in two lines facing each other to greet their esteemed visitor. Siv quickly took up her position right next to Maevin at the furthest end inside the foyer and folded her hands in front of her, also as expected.

“I saw Ice Liquor in the serving menu,” Maevin said, her voice low so only Siv could hear it. There was a mixture of curiosity and an undercurrent of a threat.

“Yes, mistress,” Siv responded as quietly. “I called in a favor, so our master would have only the finest for our guest.”

The 1st order maid saw Maevin nod out of the corner of her eye.

“The favor better not cost us, Siv,” Maevin warned. “You know what will happen.”

“I'll accept the altar if I embarrass our master,” Siv responded.

“Owing a favor to a rival estate? It won't be the altar, maid. It'll be the talons for you.”

The cold dread that went down Siv's spine made her involuntarily shiver. The Talons of Ala. She had never seen it used, but it was saved for the gravest of indiscretions. There was a statue of their esteemed goddess behind the temple, out of sight, where the unfortunate soul was placed. They had to put their hands and feet in specific spots, which were designed to dislocate the shoulders and hips. The young woman imagined it would be quite excruciating.

Lord Henry himself arrived beside Maevin with that nervous but happy grin that Siv had come to adore.

“Do I look alright?” he whispered to Maevin, tugging on his elegant summer tunic and then running his hand through his light brown hair a few times.

“You look good, my master,” Maevin responded in a warm tone that seemed off to the person that Siv was used to working with. Well, of course it was the case. Siv had seen a gentle side to her mistress a few times, but it was extremely rare. There was a chain of command that had to be kept in line.

“Are you sure?”

“Yes.”

“Siv?”

The maid started for a second, being referred to directly, and she quickly gave him a bow. “You look impeccable, my master.”

“Please relax, Master,” Maevin soothed. “This isn't your first encounter like this.”

“I know,” Henry responded nervously. “But this is House Vanen. I did my research, Maevin; they don't like Avernell, and they especially don't like me. I heard that the two High Barons got in a yelling match in front of the Empress over me.”

That was probably an exaggeration in Siv's opinion, because nobody would dare raise their voice in the presence of the Empress of all the empire.

“You are the Lord of Blue Blossom, Caretaker of the Emerald Sector, and Fleet Master of the 23rd Battle fleet,” Maevin chided in the gentlest way, which was, again, off-putting.

“Yeah. I know. Still...”

“You have this, my master,” Siv added encouragingly, and the glance of subtle approval from Maevin made her relax a bit for speaking out of turn.

The heavy, intricately carved double doors opened, and immediately every maid in line lowered their head and bowed. Maevin and Henry left Siv's side and walked down to meet the people who had just entered. Siv looked out of the corner of her eye.

Countess Nadaela Vanen was a striking woman with long, flowing purple hair that cascaded past her waist in loose, elegant waves. Her hair shimmered with varying shades of violet as the outside and inside light mixed together. There were several braided sections which had been adorned with ornate golden accessories and deep green gemstones. A pair of decorative ornaments rested near her temples in a distinct Vanen style.

Her eyes were a vivid crimson, framed by dark lashes and subtly pointed features that looked cold as ice from the polar caps.

Countess Vanen was dressed in an elaborate emerald-green gown that hugged her upper body before flowing outward into long, layered fabric. The dress had a deep, elegant neckline and exposed sections of her shoulders, while its loose sleeves draped down her arms. Intricate golden embroidery and bronze-colored ornamentation traced the edges of the fabric, forming swirling patterns that resembled vines or delicate branches.

Decorative emerald gemstones had been set into the metallic embellishments around her neckline, shoulders, and waist. A wide, ornate belt cinched the gown at her waist, adorned with interlocking metalwork and jewel-like details. Her sleeves were asymmetrical in their draping, with fitted sections around her forearms and loose fabric extending toward her wrists.

Siv had seen rich and powerful before when she trained as a courtesan, but this was something else. House Vanen was extremely powerful, extremely rich, and their entire aesthetic was built around the concept of tradition. Henry was the antithesis of tradition, so the 2nd order maid expected things to be extremely tense.

“eta isa udemi rovinve rotunaemaxavienve vanen,” Siv's lord said in almost perfect Xaltean. He still had an accent, but it had become pretty light with the amount of practice he had.

Countess Nadaela's crimson eyes burrowed into Henry, and Siv was amazed he didn't melt immediately under that gaze. He had that characteristic warm smile she herself had been given. Nadaela, in perfect form, curtsied far enough to acknowledge him as tradition required but no further.

“We have your rooms ready if you wish to—”

“No, that's fine,” Nadaela cut him off, looking about. “I would like to sit with you and discuss some things.”

Siv noticed the subtle movement of Maevin switching feet, which she knew meant Maevin was uncomfortable with the situation.

“Do you mind if my people get things in order with your honored maid?” Nadaela continued, referring to the six people standing with her, heads politely lowered.

“I do not mind at all,” Henry continued, and then looked to Siv. “Siv, if you could make sure their honored maid meets Tula, I would appreciate it.”

“As you command, my master,” Siv said with a bow.

The trio began to move, with Nadaela's personal maid keeping close while the others waited. As soon as the leadership was gone, everyone relaxed. Siv immediately looked to the other maids, who began to mingle with the Blue Blossom staff, discussing their specific roles. As Siv watched, something tickled the back of her brain.

There was a young woman wearing the tvekel of a low-ranking estate maid. She was behind her higher-order leader, who was speaking, but when she looked towards one of Blue Blossom's servants, she broke into a very friendly smile and gave the lightest of winks, which caused the other to blush but smile back.

Siv's eyes narrowed immediately as she watched. Even though the woman was dressed as a simple maid, there was something about her movement that just didn't match, but Siv couldn't put a finger on it.

“Peer Taer. I am Nish Kevet. Are your people hungry or thirsty? We have food and drink after your long journey.”

Arch Maid Nish Kevet of the Estate legion had arrived and taken command of the situation. Siv hadn't even noticed that Nish had glanced at her for a moment and immediately took on the hostess role, allowing Siv to act as the Mistress and watch. Was it written that much on her face?

“That would be lovely, peer Nish. You are very gracious to us,” Taer, a short man with short aqua-blue hair, responded. “We would love some.”

The entire party was led to a side room where tables of food had been set out for what had to be hungry servants. Siv followed behind, watching very carefully but trying her best not to come across as hostile. That was something she did not want to add on to Lord Henry's massively overloaded plate.

Conversation began to flow between everyone, especially after a few Vanen maids requested to use the casual register in speech, and that was warmly welcomed. If anything, Blue Blossom maids were very amiable and tried to embody the Avernell belief of warmth and beauty. Siv could not get the other maid out of her head, though, as everyone lined up to grab their meals.

“That's Shushema,” a voice said beside her, and Siv started, not realizing she hadn't been paying attention. Standing beside her with his plate and cup was the maid Taer from earlier.

“I'm sorry?”

He nodded towards the woman he had been looking at. “That's Shushema, estate maid of the 9th order. She's a recent addition to Sunfire Ridge Estate. She's been a very good worker, though a bit too friendly at times.”

There was a tone of admonishment in that statement that Siv did understand. A servant that talked too much, especially around people they shouldn't, could have dire effects.

It was when Shushema had made it up to the food after flirting with a few others and took the cup that was offered that it struck Siv. When the Vanen maid had taken the cup and another offered to fill it, Shushema, for a moment, rested the cup on the back of her hand instead of in her palm, but immediately corrected herself within a split second. If Siv hadn't been watching, she would have missed it. The realization of what she was hit her.

That was no estate maid. That was a courtesan.

“Has she been with you long?” Siv asked, sliding into the comfortable and confident persona she had perfected years ago.

Taer took a bite of his sandwich and shrugged. “She was brought on right before the Duchess decided to travel to Fort Aldric for the summit with the Terra Concavum.”

The young woman nodded, watching as Shushema made her way towards the couches and floor cushions, sidling up to a few of the Blue Blossom maids. That made Siv's heart jump a bit. Courtesans were infamous for being able to pull important details from unsuspecting servants. She should know, as she had been training to be one years before arriving at Blue Blossom.

“I see. Hasn't had a chance to understand the importance of tradition as your house is known for,” Siv said politely with a nod to him. “I take it Victory was the only stop?”

“Yes,” Taer said, and then grinned at her. “You're quite curious about our itinerary, Peer Siv.”

“Just curiosity,” Siv deflected with a well-practiced smile. “I've not been offworld since I arrived two summers ago. I do get a bit antsy.”

Waiting only a few moments longer to make her excuses, she stepped into the main corridor and debated what to do next. It was then that she saw Mistress Maevin making her way from the lounge towards the kitchens, and she did not look happy. Still, as much as facing her anger was scary, it was the right thing to do.

“Mistress,” Siv called, hurrying over to her. Maevin's cold eyes turned to her.

“Not now, Siv.”

“Forgive me,” she continued, bowing. “We have an issue.”

“What?”

“One of the Vanen estate maids is actually a courtesan.”

The mistress-in-training was not sure how it was possible, but Maevin's eyes grew colder. “Are you sure?”

“Yes, mistress.”

Maevin leaned in, her voice dropping to a hiss. “Deal with it.” The Mistress didn't wait around but continued on whatever mission she had been given.

Deal with it? How do I deal with a courtesan?, Siv thought to herself, the anxiety bubbling in her chest. House Aldinav Courtesans were trained to exist among the different maids, and calling one out was extremely difficult and a social disaster if not done correctly. Even so, a courtesan asking a question isn't actually breaking any rules if the person being asked answered. How was she supposed to deal with it?

If it wasn't obvious before, it was certain now that the whole trip Duchess Vanen was taking was to investigate Master Henry and his estate. Her unexpected arrival, the fact that there was a hidden courtesan among them. She was looking for information, and if they weren't careful,

Siv thought it over as she walked back toward the side room, slower so she had a chance to get her emotions in check and not give the entire game away. As she did, a plan was coming to mind.

The first thing she had to do was keep Shushema busy with people who had nothing worth extracting.

Keep the junior kitchen staff and the newer field hands near her. Didn't Maevin bring a few harvesters in from the fields? They wouldn't know the day-to-day of what was going on in the main estate.

The next thing she had to do was the part that made her stomach twist: she needed to feed Shushema something. A courtesan who came away with nothing at all would only confirm to House Vanen that there was something to hide. It was better to give her something that felt scandalous but wouldn't be out of place, especially if it was something about Terrans but not in a way that would humiliate her lord.

Siv reached the doorway of the side room and paused, watching Shushema laugh warmly at something one of the stable hands had said, one hand resting with practiced looseness on his forearm.

Gods help me if I screw this up...

Siv found the harvester maids were clustered in the far corner, probably uncomfortable with having to socialize instead of being in the fields. Good. She crossed to the nearest one, a broad-shouldered woman named Peket who Siv only vaguely knew from the fields. She was a powerful woman who ran her own teams with the harvest of the winter rose apples.

“Maid Peket,” Siv said warmly, “would you mind helping our guests feel comfortable?”

Peket blinked, clearly surprised, but nodded. “Of course, Esteemed Siv.”

Siv guided her, and two other harvesters she gathered along the way, toward the cluster of Vanen and Patton-Avernell servants where Shushema had planted herself. It was easy enough to make it look natural, a hostess making sure no guest went untended, introductions offered with a light touch before Siv excused herself to attend to something else. It felt like a dream, leaning into talents she hadn't used in years. Within a few minutes, Shushema had traded her stable hand for an animated conversation with Peket about the difference between Terran and Xaltean crop rotations, a topic so far from anything useful that Siv nearly laughed with relief. That also was information that the courtesan was not a high-ranking one, as they wouldn't have been distracted so easily.

Maybe 9th or 8th order, Siv thought to herself. That solves the immediate problem. Now to keep her at bay.

The mistress-in-training found Nish refilling a tray near the sideboard and touched her elbow lightly, leaning in as if commenting on the food.

“Peer Nish. A word, when you have a moment that doesn't look like a moment.”

Nish's eyes flicked to her, sharply. Nish was quiet and reserved but very strict and quick to read the room. “Of course, Peer Siv. The kevet rolls need restocking anyway.”

They drifted together toward the doorway, and Siv could feel Nish's intense curiosity.

“We have an issue,” Siv started as they stepped out into the hall. “The maid Shushema. She's a courtesan.”

Nish's eyes widened for a split second before she gave a firm nod. “Has the mistress been informed?”

“Yes, she told me to deal with it,” she said, and Siv didn't need the look of pity from the other maid.

“What do you need from me?”

“We need to feed her something that will satiate House Vanen's curiosity but not put our master into a worse situation with such a powerhouse,” Siv began to explain, trying her best not to rattle on. “I just don't have any ideas of what to give them or how? I was hoping you might have an idea. You've worked a lot of estates.”

Nish considered for a moment, tapping a finger against her thigh. “You suspect House Vanen already believes this visit is about Lord Henry's fitness to hold the Emerald Sector. That means whatever we feed her has to answer that question, just not honestly.”

“Meaning?” Siv asked.

“Meaning we need to provide a flaw.” Nish's mouth curved faintly. “Vanen wants proof that Avernell overreached in putting a Terran in charge, but something with almost no real value to use against him, and something that will turn out false in the end.”

The mistress in training frowned. “How do we do that?”

“Let it slip that Lord Henry still struggles with conforming to Xaltean standards. That he struggles with our language and customs still and that the Mistress is covering for him.” Nish said, her tapping finger getting a bit faster. “It was all true at one time, but they won't be here long enough to realize that.”

Siv's stomach eased slightly, then tightened again. “That'll still make him look weak. We can't jeopardize his position.”

“It makes him look Terran,” Nish corrected. “There's a difference, and anyone looking objectively will know that. If Shushema carries back that he's still acting Terran, Vanen gains ammunition for discussion in the Gray Council, but not enough to actually bring before the Gray Council, and if they did investigate, they would find her information is either wrong or outdated. As you know, our lord speaks very well.”

Siv thought of Henry tugging at his tunic in the foyer, asking Maevin twice if he looked alright. It wasn't even a lie. That was what unsettled her most.

“Someone low-order,” Siv said slowly, working it through. “Someone that it wouldn't be suspicious of, but someone we can trust.”

“Exactly.”

Siv nodded. “We just need to find someone who can do it.”

“I can.”

The two women started, having been so deep in conversation in the corner that they hadn't seen the other woman approach. Peket's large frame stood near them. Nish's eyes narrowed into slits as the anger seethed.

“Were you spying on us?”

“I was eavesdropping,” Peket admitted straight away, “because I was curious.”

“I can have you whipped for that.” Siv warned.

“And I will accept it, but I can do it.”

Siv and Nish exchanged glances before looking at the harvester.

“It's risky because if we screw this up, you will go to the Talons just like us,” Nish said, not bothering to hide that she knew the stakes.

“Because of who he is,” Peket said eagerly, the tomboy exploding out. “Just a few weeks ago, he was touring the orchards as we were preparing the plants, saw that we were down a worker who was being examined by a medic, and spent the next two hours climbing up in the trees with us, making sure we could get done on schedule.”

Siv forced herself to keep the smile from reaching her face. That sounded so much like their Terran lord.

“So, I wish to do this to repay what he did for us harvesters, and if it fails, I accept the consequences.”

Nish glanced to Siv, who nodded.

“Then here's the plan.”

---

Siv had learned the trick of invisibility long ago, and the skill returned easily. She settled herself near the tall arrangement of dried flowering branches against the far wall, angled just enough that anyone glancing across the room would see only her shape, monitoring things but too boring to watch. There was a little alcove of the room near her position that Peket had been moving towards slowly, and from there, they wouldn't be able to spot her.

Shushema had done the drawing in slowly; Siv could see that much. A hand light on Peket's forearm, a lean of the head that made the bigger woman lean back in turn, the two of them forming a small closed circle that excluded the rest of the room without appearing to try. Peket's voice came low and careful, pitched in a way for Siv to hear.

“I probably shouldn't say,” Peket was murmuring, glancing once over her shoulder, “but you asked so kindly, colleague, and it's not as though it's a secret exactly. Everyone here knows.”

“I would never repeat it,” Shushema responded, warm and solemn, and Siv had to admire the craft of it; she had to be a 7th-order courtesan.

Peket lowered her voice further, forcing Shushema to lean in even closer. “It was a Lady of Honor's visit, a few months back. Our lord was greeting her formally, you understand, using the high register the way Mistress Maevin had drilled into him. He meant to say mlebesh. Please, be seated.”

“Mm,” Shushema encouraged softly.

“He said xil-khebesh instead.”

Shushema's breath caught. “He made such an obvious mistake?”

“Yes,” Peket nodded. “To hint that she should sit lewdly was appalling.”

“What did she do?”

“Went white as a bone. Didn't know if she'd been insulted on purpose or by accident, and for a moment neither did anyone else in the room, because our lord just stood there. Didn't catch it himself. Mistress Maer had to step in and smooth it over, said something about Terran tongues still finding their footing, laughed it off light as anything before it could become a true offense.” Peket shook her head, the motion small and confiding. “Between us, colleague, I don't think it was only the words that slipped. I think for a moment he looked at her the way Terrans do, if you understand me, that was the most uncomfortable part.”

“He's young,” Shushema offered gently. “And Terran. I imagine it's difficult, learning all the rules so quickly.”

“That's exactly it. He tries so hard. I'd never speak ill of him truly; he's a good master to us in the orchards. It's only, well. You can't unlearn where you come from, can you? Not fully.”

“No,” Shushema agreed softly. “I suppose you can't.”

She patted Peket's arm once, let the conversation ease naturally toward the sweet table, and asked no other questions. Why would she? Shushema got exactly what she wanted. Siv set down the vase she'd been holding for far too long and allowed herself a slow breath. Across the room, Peket caught her eye, and Siv gave the smallest nod of approval.

It was done. Now all that remained was seeing if it worked.

---

The great doors of Blue Blossom's foyer stood open to the evening air by the time Countess Nadaela Vanen emerged from her private audience with Henry and Maevin. Whatever had happened in that room, none of it showed on her face.

Siv took her position again at Maevin's side in the receiving line, hands folded, head inclined just enough to be proper. She could feel the tension radiating off her mistress as she stepped beside her.

“We won't be staying the night,” Nadaela said, addressing Henry directly, her crimson eyes unreadable. “I do not want to delay any further.”

Henry's smile faltered for just a fraction of a second before he caught it. “Of course, Countess. I hope the visit was informative.”

“Very.”

Siv kept her eyes lowered and her breath even, watching the small procession begin to assemble near the doors. Shushema fell into step behind Taer with the same easy, unremarkable bearing she'd worn all evening. Nadaela paused at the threshold and looked back once, her gaze sweeping the lines of Blue Blossom maids still bowed, and left.

Siv did not move from her place in line until the party had left. Henry let out a long breath and dragged a hand through his hair. “Well, it could have been worse.”

“It could have, but you held your ground,” Maevin said. The mistress looked in her direction, and Siv gave a nod to let her know she had resolved it. Of course, there would be a report later, but right now, Siv allowed herself to finally breathe.

When Henry Patton had told his mistress Maevin Maer he wanted to be more of a true lord of the estate, the young Terran had no idea how much paperwork would come with it. It felt like from morning to evening, there was some sort of document being added to his tablet or piece of paper being provided that needed his attention. He did his best not to complain, but Henry had caught the looks of pity on Siv's pretty face a few times already. At the moment, he was looking down at a document that was telling him the status of all the estates under his estate's authority and what they had been up to.

It was boring.

I guess boring is a good thing, he thought to himself. That means nobody is actually gunning for us.

The whole fiasco with Neeza Tavik and Princess Fanina Vaesh was quite a few months earlier. There hadn't been any other attempts that he was aware of, but that didn't mean they weren't coming for him. Henry put down the pad and leaned back in his chair, the soft leather material holding him gently.

How long had it been since he saw home? Henry had promised a year to High Baron Hesh Avernell but hadn't realized he had promised a Victory year. One year on this planet was three years back at home. No wonder his fiance's family were complaining. Henry hadn't realized how much pressure he had put on his family with this choice.

I don't regret it, he thought to himself and before the thought about leaving could come to mind, he quickly banished it.

Sighing, the Terran lord leaned forward to pick up his tablet again when the door of his office creaked open. Looking up, he found no one standing there but lowered his gaze to see a pair of pink eyes looking at him. They were set into the cute face of a young girl who could not have been more than six or seven. She wore a tan shirt with a match skirt that had patches of dark pink in it. It had the distinct asymmetrical cut along the shoulder and skirt that was definitely of Xaltean fashion and what appeared to be sneakers. A large pink bow took up most of her orange hair. She was not dressed like a maid but rather an ordinary little girl.

“ho. nata taveluxilvi. leva benea tavelu mive sabve?“

Henry blinked before his brain kicked into gear as she spoke again.

“Hi. I'm lost. Can you help me find my mom?” she said again, her eyes getting bigger and more nervous. Henry smiled at her and stood. Having grown up around a lot of large families, children were not something strange to him.

“Of course. Do you know where you last saw her?”

“No,” she said with a shake of her head causing the curls to bounce.

“What about your dad?”

“He's in the military somewhere else.”

“Do you know where she works?” Henry asked walking up to her and crouching down. The girl shook her head again though her eyes grew a bit watery.

“Don't worry,” Henry said crouching down to eye level. “We'll find her. What's your name?”

“Vevet.”

“Well, Vevet. I'm Henry. Let's go see if we can find her.”

As Henry pushed the door open, Vevet grabbed his hand and held on tight. Who knew how long she had been wandering the hallways, and how did she get past the maids? As he walked down the gray marble hallways, he found that there were almost no maids around. Glancing at his watch, he saw it showed the numbers 3.0.4.0. That placed the estate in the middle of their shift change which meant briefings and getting things ready. A very good chance a small child could have slipped through unnoticed.

Henry really didn't have any idea where to go next, so he just walked towards the outer patio in hopes that maybe Vevet would spot her mother but as the sunshine hit his face, he found nobody there. Further up the path that wrapped around towards the Grand Cellars, he could make out a two maids ripping out a dead bush that must have died from the heat.

“What's your mom's name?” Henry asked.

“Shinka,” Vevet said watching the two maids in the distance. Another maid showed up, a male wearing the longer robes of an estate maid while the two others were a scullery and harvester. Then the idea struck him. The Terran Lord pointed to the three maids.

“Does your mom dress like any of them?”

The young girl studied them carefully and nodded pointing towards the woman with the simple pale pink tvekel skirt and sleeveless wrap around top. So, her mother was a harvester, that narrowed it down from four thousand to what, three or four hundred? If memory served Arch Maid Vindik Mal, who was in charge of the Ground Legion, would be outrunning his inspections. Maybe Henry could catch him and get an idea where to look next.

“Let's go see if we can find Mister Vindik. He should know where your mom is,” Henry said giving her a hand an encouraging squeeze.

Leading the way, Henry decided that the best option was to take the walk path from the inner estate and to make his way down the main road towards the Northern Fields. That was his guess where the leader of the Ground Legion would be. The Terran lord knew that the tending of the vines of the famous blue grapes would be in full swing as the harvest would be necessary to produce the wine in the fall.

Vevet. That means blue, Henry thought to himself thinking about the girl beside him. For the little one, Vevet seemed to be at ease skipping along beside him as they walked down the dirt path. It was a gradual change from the manicured lawns and hedges to the long, dusty road flanked by fields of grape vines, their little blue berried shimmering in the light of the sun. In the distance in a lot of these fields Henry could make out the small huts and the figures working. Machinery hummed along spraying water while in other areas, the eemodae were harvesting by hand for the special stock.

“Where are you from?”

The question from Vevet broke Henry out of his thoughts and he glanced down at the large, curious eyes.

“I'm from a planet called Pax Aeterna.”

“You're human?”

The Terran lord braced himself. He honestly didn't know how strong the stereotype of his people had been among the Xalteans.

“I am.”

“You have brothers and sisters?”

“Two sisters and a brother.”

“You miss home?”

Did he? That was a good question. When he first had come here, Henry had been extremely anxious and scared. He had been thrust into the middle of a culture he had no clue about and who were so different from his own, he had felt like he was lost and drowning. Now? Blue Blossom felt more like home and where he came from a distant memory.

“I miss my family.”

Vevet nodded her head sagely as they continued, the sun's heat warm against their heads. “I miss home too.”

“Where's home?”

“Fuvusheemee. It's a planet far from here. Mommy got promoted and invited here as she's an expert on horti-something.”

“Horticulture?”

“Yes!” Vevet said nodding her head excitedly causing her curls to bound.

“Long trip?”

“Yeah.”

“How did you get lost?” Henry finally asked realizing he hadn't known. The girl looked a bit embarrassed.

“I was playing in the dorm yard and was chasing dayflitters. I...got lost.”

Ah, yes. The iridescent, sparkling insects that flew around in the daytime. They reminded Henry of dragonflies from Earth but with much more gossamer wings and slender bodies.

“Am I in trouble?” Vevet asked tentatively.

“No, not at all,” Henry smiled reassuringly.

The conversation dwindled into comfortable silence as they began to approach a collection of buildings nestled on both sides of the road. Henry could make out figures moving around and realized it was a staging point for the harvesters and others. Standing at the primary station providing instructions to a team, Vindik's dark eyes glanced over and saw Henry coming. There was a flicker of confusion before the professionalism took over. He strode over while the other maids, seeing who it was, scattered to their jobs.

“My lord,” Vindik said bowing, his shaved head glinting in the light. “I didn't expect you.”

“It's alright. This young lady got lost, and we're looking for her mom. Do you have a Shinka working for you?”

“There are quite a few Shinkas,” Vindik said looking at the little girl who appeared stressed again at the thought of so many.

“She's a horticulturist from Fuvumeeshee,” Henry added.

“Ah,” Vindik said with a sharp nod. “Shika Aeshma, she's a 5th Order harvester. I have her working in the southern fields today. Signs of a possible blight cropping up there.”

The young man nodded as he squeezed Vevet's hand again. “See! We know where your momma is. Everything is going to be alright.”

“Shall I fetch her, my lord?” Vindik asked reaching to tap his gauntlet with the communicator built in.

Henry Patton was about to answer when Vevet tugged on his arm. “Can we hang out, Mister Henry?”

Vindik opened his mouth, probably to correct the girl's improper title, but the Terran waved him off. He smiled at her.

“What do you mean?”

“I don't want to go back to the dorms. I have no friends and the other kids don't like me.”

Henry crouched down and smiled at her. “Maybe they just haven't had a chance to meet you yet. You know it's pretty hard to meet new people.”

“Maybe.”

“Have you eaten?”

“No.”

Nodding his head like he made a decision, he stood and smiled at Vindik. “I'll take her for now. We're going to get something to eat. I don't think we need to worry her mom. If you can let her know that she's with me when it's appropriate, that'll be fine.”

“As you will, my master.” The ground legion Arch Maid said with a bow. He then signaled towards a small powered cart that a maid was driving. It had an open trunk behind it loaded with tools.

“Nushi,” Vindik said and the female maid driving it stopped the vehicle. “Take our lord and this young lady back to the estate, and then you can deliver those parts to Section 3-B.”

“Yes, Arch Maid,” the girl said with a nod from her seat.

---

The electric cart rattled its way back up the dirt road, Vevet perched between Henry and the trunk full of tools, her curls whipping in the wind. She kept glancing at him probably not sure if this was real and Henry found himself grinning despite the mountain of paperwork waiting on his tablet.

By the time Nushi dropped them at the steps of the mansion, Vevet had declared “the best thing that happened all week,” which made Henry smile. Vevet finally looked like she was having a good time.

“Alright,” Henry said, offering his hand as she hopped down. “Let's get you fed.”

He led her around to the shaded patio that overlooked the eastern gardens, the one with the low stone table and the cushioned benches Siv liked to complain nobody ever used. A passing maid, young, dark-haired, froze mid-step at the sight of her lord walking a strange child through the estate.

“Could you bring us something to eat?” Henry asked. “Something a child would like. And tea, if we have the mild blend.”

“Of...of course, my master,” she stammered, and hurried off.

Vevet settled onto the bench, swinging her legs since they didn't reach the ground, and looked around at the gardens, the marble columns, the fountain trickling somewhere out of sight. Her expression had gone soft and a little dazed.

“This is really your house?”

“Part of it. It's a big house.”

“It's so pretty.” She smoothed her hands over the skirt of her tan dress. “I feel like a lady.”

Henry looked at her, at the too-big eyes and the bow that had slid halfway down her hair and the way she was trying very hard to sit up straight. He grinned at her.

“You know,” he said, leaning forward with a serious nod. “I think you're right.”

Vevet blinked at him.

“As Lord of Blue Blossom,” Henry continued, straightening in his seat, “I hereby declare that for the remainder of this day, Miss Vevet of Fuvusheemee shall be recognized as a shivkihanxa, Lady of Honor of this household.”

For a moment she just stared at him, working out whether he was joking. Then her whole face lit up.

“Really?”

“Really. It's official.” He nodded.

“Do... I get a title?”

The young man nodded. “Lady Vevet, I think.”

Somehow, the little girl found a way to sit up even straighter.

Nish Kevet appeared from the direction of the kitchens before Henry had even settled back into his seat, a tray balanced against one hip and her usually practiced quiet, though the glint in her eye said she'd caught every word of the declaration from somewhere just out of sight.

“Lady Vevet,” she said, coming to a stop before the bench, placing the tray on the table, and giving a low bow. “An honor to serve you.”

Vevet's mouth fell open.

“I heard my masters' order,” Nish Kevet went on, beginning to set out the food from the tray as if royalty had been present. Flatbread, a little dish of fruit cut into careful pieces, a small pot of tea steaming faintly in the afternoon light. “I hope you find the food to your satisfaction.”

“I've never had anyone bow to me before,” Vevet whispered to Henry, her eyes large as saucers.

A hint of a smile showed up in the corner of Nish's mouth as she finished pouring the tea for Henry and grape juice for the little one.

“Is there anything else, master? My Lady?”

“Thank you, Nish. That'll be all.”

The afternoon went on as Henry and Vevet finished their food and began to explore the house itself. The wide-eyed curiosity reminded him of his little sister Annabelle when they were gallivanting around the fields and barns in search for adventure. At the library, she had fun climbing the ladders and examining the books. What started out as a quest to find more information on Dayflitters turned into an hour's worth of pulling books off of shelves, flipping through the references, getting distracted by the pictures in a short story collection, and then playing with the globes and tracing fingers on maps. At the kitchens, Burdak made sure to stuff her full of more sweets and candy which probably was Vevet's favorite room. They made their way back to the library as Henry felt that was the best place to keep her out of everyone's hair, it was quiet, and he avoided the paperwork that was probably growing.

Henry was in the middle of showing Vevet his home world on a holographic projector on the desk located here when he heard the tapping steps of someone approaching. The door swung open and Maevin strode in.

“There you are,” Maevin's started and then stopped entirely.

Henry turned to find her standing in the doorway of the study, one hand still on the frame, staring at the small girl currently perched in his lap staring intently at the slowly rotating holographic globe.

“My master?” Maevin's eyes moved from Vevet, to the empty dishes, to the half-dozen books stacked haphazardly on the reading table, and back to Henry. “There is a child here.”

“This is Lady Vevet,” Henry said, with formality, but he couldn't keep the grin off his face which caused Maevin's delicate eyebrow to raise in consternation. “She's visiting.”

“A lady,” Maevin repeated.

“Lady of Honor Vevet of Fuvusheemee,” Vevet said but when she looked up, her voice had gone smaller, and she'd gone very still probably realizing who was there. She glanced at Henry, then back at Maevin.

“Ah.”

“She got lost early this morning, she's new to the planet. Her mom works for Vindik. She asked for help and well...we got distracted.”

“I see.”

Vevet's relaxed a bit. “Am I in trouble?”

“Of course not,” Maevin said a warm smile crossing her face. “This place is big, and I can understand getting lost.”

The Mistress turned to Henry and sighed. “That would explain why Arch Maid Mal and a harvester are here.”

“Mommy?” Vevet asked.

“I believe so. Shall we go check?” Maevin offered extending her hand. The young girl scrambled off of Henry kicking him a few times with her shoes in the effort to escape and skipped out the door with the Mistress. Henry followed close behind.

The three of them came down the main staircase together, Vevet still chattering about star charts, one hand tucked into Henry's and the other in Maevin's. They found Vindik already there, standing beside a woman who looked like she hadn't taken a full breath in the last several minutes.

She was still in her field clothes, the pale pink of her harvester's wrap dusted with dirt at the hem. The moment her eyes landed on Vevet, something in her face cracked open with relief, and then, a half second later, seemed to collapse entirely as she registered exactly who was holding her daughter's hand.

“Mommy!” Vevet let go and bolted the last few steps across the marble, and the woman dropped to her knees to catch her, burying her face briefly in her daughter's hair.

“Vevet, sweetheart, oh.” She pulled back just enough to look her over, hands running along her shoulders, her arms, as if checking for herself that nothing was broken or missing. “How did you wind up here?” Her voice caught as her gaze lifted past her daughter's head and found Henry standing a few paces back.

“It's a long story,” Henry laughed.

She went very, very pale.

“My master,” She was on her feet in an instant, Vevet still gathered against her side, and dropped into a bow so low and so fast Henry half worried she'd overbalance. “Shinka Aeshma, my master, I am so, I don't know she had left the dorms or that she found her way in to the estate...”

“Shinka.” Henry said trying to be gentle. “Accidents happened and she asked for help. I'm proud of her for that.”

“I understand if there are consequences, I'll accept whatever.” The words were coming too fast now, her eyes darting between Henry and Maevin, who had come to stand a little behind him, and Shinka's bow deepened further at the sight of her, if that were possible. “Mistress. I am so sorry, I never meant for her to be underfoot!”

“Ease, harvester,” This time it was Maevin who spoke, and something in her voice, level, unhurried, entirely without the edge Shinka seemed braced for, cut through the spiral.

“Your daughter is safe, and our master has spent time with her to keep her that way,” Maevin said. “You have not committed anything egregious worth punishing. All I ask is you take steps you need to keep your daughter comfortable at the dorms.”

Henry knew that it wasn't actually a request but a command.

“But make sure she has a chance to meet the other children there. Only the best for my Lady of Honor.”

Shinka blinked. Blinked again. Looked down at Vevet, who was practically vibrating with the need to confirm this herself.

“It's true, Mommy! I'm Lady Vevet! Arch maid Kevet bowed to me and I had grape juice and Arch Maid Rikol gave me candy and Mister Henry let me play with the globe in the library. I had so much fun!”

The words tumbled out of her in one long breathless rush, and somewhere in the middle of it, Henry watched the terror mount as her daughter listed off three of the most powerful people on the estate.

“I'm so sorry,” she managed again.

“Nothing to apologize for,” Henry said, crouching briefly to Vevet's level one last time. “Your daughter's good company. She's welcome here anytime, through the front door this time, not by accident.”

Vevet giggled at that, and even Shinka managed something close to a laugh, still shaking from the adrenalin.

“Take her home,” Maevin said ordered. “I imagine it's been a long day for both of you.”

Shinka bowed once more, took her daughter's hand and led her towards the door. At the door, though, Vevet twisted back around, pulling her mother to a half-stop.

“Bye, Mister Henry!” She lifted her chin with all the dignity she'd been practicing since the patio. “It was an honor to be your lady.”

“The honor was ours, Lady Vevet,” Henry said, with a small bow of his own.

Vevet beamed, and let her mother lead her out into the evening light, still clutching her twist of candy like a trophy, already talking a mile a minute about globes and star charts and dayflitters all over again.

As the place grew quiet and maybe a bit duller, he turned to Maevin who was studying him.

“What? She was lost.”

“You could have just had a maid take her home.”

“Well...”

“The things you get yourself into, Master,” Maevin laughed softly. “Now, I think it's time you get back to your paperwork.”

Hey all! It's been awhile since the game launched and I wanted to pop in and let you know that Maid Adventures has received some updates! Some of these are balancing fixes that were overdue, and some are brand new features that I think really add to the feel of running an estate. Let's go through them!

---

Fixes & Balancing

Maid salaries are now based on rarity.

Previously, every maid cost the same flat fee per day regardless of what she was. That never made much sense. A Common maid and a Special maid costing the same? Yeah, no. The new rates are:

• Common — 5 ℰ/day
• Uncommon — 8 ℰ/day
• Rare — 12 ℰ/day
• Elite — 18 ℰ/day
• Special — 25 ℰ/day

The rates are designed so that a week offline won't bankrupt you, but a full roster of Elite and Special maids is going to cost you meaningfully more than a Common bench. Plan accordingly! The Estate page now shows you a full breakdown by rarity and how many days your current balance covers.

Special Events were not actually awarding rewards.

Yeah. That was embarrassing. The outcome key mapping was wrong, which meant the rewards weren't firing correctly and everything was being silently swallowed. That's fixed. You'll also now see entries in your Activity Log whenever a Special Event rewards you so you know exactly what you received. Sorry about that one!

Made to work when they couldn't. There was a bug where a maid that was furloughed could still be put on a mission. This has been fixed. On the mission page, maids in these statuses will be grayed out and why.

Morale losses from failures are now doubled.

This one was intentional. Failure should hurt more than it did. The new morale changes by outcome are:

• Beyond Expectation: +2
• Successful: +1
• Completed: 0
• Failed: −2
• Abysmal (bonded): −4
• Abysmal (unbonded): −10

A bad streak can spiral quickly now. Keep an eye on your maids.

---

New Features

The Rumor Mill

Want to know what's going on across the other estates? Now you can — sort of. The Rumor Mill is a new collapsible panel on the Missions page that shows anonymised activity from across all estates. You'll see things like tier-ups, 1st Order achievements, Arch Maid appointments, and the less flattering news too. Unpaid wages, abysmal failures, and maids in crisis all make their way into the gossip. The house is named but never the estate, so the mystery stays intact.

Diplomatic Gifts

Want to support another estate? You can now send gifts directly from the Registry of Houses page. Three types are available:

• 🎁 Luxury Goods — all their active maids get +15 morale (costs you 50 ℰ)
• 💰 Stipend — adds 100 ℰ to their balance (costs you 100 ℰ)
• 📜 Letter of Acknowledgement — all their active maids get +50 XP (costs you 3 prestige)

You can send anonymously if you prefer. Pending gifts show up in a green panel on the recipient's Missions page and have to be actively collected. There's a rate limit of 3 gifts per day to the same estate so nobody's running wild with it.

Secondments

This one I'm really happy with. You can now temporarily loan a maid to another estate for a fixed number of missions. The times are 3, 5, or 10. The receiving estate runs the missions and keeps the currency payout. You, the sending estate, earn +2 prestige for every mission she completes while on loan.

There's also a safety net built in for inactive players: if the receiving estate doesn't use the maid within 7 days of accepting the offer, she automatically returns home. No maid gets lost to an estate that's gone dark. The whole system lives on the new Secondments page in the nav.

A few things worth knowing: – Offers expire after 48 hours if not accepted – Early recall is possible but costs you −2 prestige as a penalty – Half Bond maids are protected — you can't offer them for more missions than they have left on their contract – She comes back with any XP she earned, but her traits are restored to what they were when she left

Negative Traits

Take care of your maids. That's always been part of the game, but now it has more teeth.

If things go really badly like repeated failures, unpaid wages, being left on furlough too long, or a truly catastrophic outcome, a maid can develop a negative trait. These show up as red chips on the maid card and in the detail panel, and they apply real mechanical penalties.

There are two categories:

Permanent — these are scars. Nothing removes them. – 🕯 Haunted — abysmal outcomes cost double morale (triggered by a catastrophic score below 0.10) – 🔒 Distrustful — bond contracts require 5 extra missions (triggered by being sold through the Market) – 🪦 Burned Out — rest time after missions increased by 50% (triggered by a long catastrophic streak)

Removable — these heal over time with 30 qualifying missions. – 😒 Jaded — XP reduced by 10% (3+ unpaid cycles) – 🫥 Withdrawn — −5 to Eloquence checks (3+ abysmal failures on Eloquence missions) – 😬 Rattled — −5 to all stats when leading (3+ abysmals as lead maid) – 🪨 Worn — morale recovery reduced by 1/hr (14+ days furloughed) – 😤 Resentful — affinity gains cut by 50% (left unpaid while others were paid)

Recovery progress shows in the detail panel so you can track how far along the healing is. When a removable trait clears, it shows up in the Activity Log and the Rumor Mill gets a mention too.

That's everything for this update! As always, if you find bugs you can reach me at luckyfoot@beloved-universe.net. The Rules page has also been updated to cover all of this if you want the full breakdown.

Thanks for playing. Take care of your maids out there.

When Henry's eyes opened, he was glad for the darkness. One of the hardest things he had to get used to was the fact that the planet had longer months and slower rotation which meant the planet was under much more light than his home.

Compared to Pax Aterna, the planet he grew up on, Victory ran on a thirty-four hour day. He glanced out the window and saw that the courtains were open and the window slightly ajar allowing the fresh night breeze come through. Sometime in the night, a maid must have come in and opened it for him. That was the other thing about the Xalteans here, they did not use air conditioning. Yes, there was one in his office but that was installed just for him early on and he made a point to not use it. Just felt wrong when others did not have access.

The air that came wafting in caused the sweat on his bare chest to cool him a bit more. The young man felt like he might shiver but it never came. God, why was he awake? Henry glanced over to the computer clock on his night stand and it's lowlight screen not only displayed what time it was but how much light and darkness they were experience. The numbers displayed were 7.4.0.6.

Arc 7, Segement 4, Count 0, Pulse 6., Henry forced himself to remember. The Xalteans used base-8 mathmatics and though he was not quite sure how it all worked, he learned enough to follow the life of the estate based on this. Arc 7 meant that the estate was in its slumber stage. Many of the shifts were either resting or sleeping dependent on their assignments and it was one of the few times that it was dark. Henry looked at the numbers underneath.

Jeez. Only twenty-seven and a half hours of light and only six and a half hours of darkness, and he was already in the second hour of that six. Well, doesn't appear I'm going to get any sleep right now.

The little digital clock also showed the temperature. 43 viku. Henry wracked his brains, what was that in farenheit? 89 if he remembered which was 31 in celsius. God, his head hurt from that math and the heat was no help.

Sitting up in the bed and swinging his legs out, Henry groped down on the floor for his t-shirt he had tossed aside and instead found it still there but folded neatly waiting for him. He flushed a bit with embarressment. Had he gotten so used to it that the maids were in an out of his room and doing things like this?

Pulling it over his head, he stepped out into the hallway and found that down the corridor a maid was sitting in one of the only chairs half way down, one leg crossed over another with a computer tablet in her hands reading. Her emerald hair moving slightly from the open window across from her. The click of the door made her look up, stand and bow with hand folded one over the other.

“Master,” she said casting her eyes slightly down.

“I don't need anything, Sheelari,” Henry said. He knew why she was there, to make sure a trusted maid was seconds away if he needed anything. They were allowed to read, write, do anything they wanted if they remained in that hallway in the off chance he came out. “I'm just going to head down to the kitchens for a bite to eat.”

“I can fetch something for you?” she said quickly but Henry shook his head. “I need to stretch my legs. If you want to grab something to eat in the maid quarters, I won't be back for about 30 minutes.”

She courtseyed again and Henry made his way to the stairs. He soon found himself on the first floor, the carpeted floors giving way to the marble. The estate was strange being so quiet. The lights had been dimmed to a comfortable orange and everyone was either sleeping or doing something quiet. Henry did see a maid or two, who hadn't made it to their rooms just curl up on one of the comfy sofas and pass out.

Probably a short shift and they got to get back at it in an hour or two, he mused to himself. The men and women of his estate were so dedicated to their jobs. Opening the double doors of the kitchen he took a few steps before he saw her. Sitting at the bar on one of the stools was someone he had not actually expected. His Mistress, Maevin Maer, was sitting there in a sheer nightgown of white with four different computer pads in front of her, the soft blue glow lighting up her face. In this light, Henry was struck by how beautiful she was. Her long lashes, deep blue eyes, and small nose. He also noted that she was also hot from the weather as she had pulled her nightgown from her shoulders and tied the arms around her waist so she was topless. Henry did his best not to stare.

Maevin's eyes darted over to him and he saw she was about to scold whatever maid threatened to disturb her but softened seeing him.

“Master,” she said turning her attention to him. “I thought you'd be asleep.”

“I was,” Henry said making his way to the large fridge. There was a section of the second shelf that his head chef Burdak had said he'd leave prepared meals for snacking. Yes, Henry had his own kitchenette that was stocked but he wanted to be out and about. “Got hungry.”

“Sheelari could have gotten you something.”

“I wanted to get it myself.”

Henry pulled out two peanut butter and jelly sandwiches made on a rather rich looking bread and then made his way oppposite of her and sat down on that stool. Maevin immediately moved to untie her top to cover herself but he waved her off.

“It's too hot,” he said. “I'm fine.”

Henry did love that pretty smile she would get and only give to him. The Terran lord took a bite of his sandwich and looked at the computers. “Whatcha working on?” he asked his mouth full. He hadn't realized how hungry he was.

“Schedules and incidents,” Maevin responded.

“Don't you ever sleep?”

“When I can.”

Yes, the estate was big and he also knew that Maevin was in charge of reports from the sattelite estates under their house name and independent locations but every time when he saw the actual amount of work, he felt overwhelmed.

“I don't know how you can keep up with it all.”

Maevin chuckled. “Practice and having a good core team. The first, second, and third order maids do a lot to help even the burden. That's why it is important to pick only the best for those positions.”

Henry nodded as he leaned forward to take a look what was on the screen. His Xaltean had gotten good enough that he was able to read most of it with little issue. Daily lessons and immersion had really helped him. Maevin turned the tablet for him to see.

“Anything interesting?”

“I'm just reviewing events for the day. Nothing major. Requisitions for equipment, disciplinary reports, personnel changes, things like that.”

“Nizzie on the discipline list again?” Henry grinned. That low order maid was quite memorable.

“Not today, which is a surprise.”

A word jumped out at Henry that he hadn't seen before.

“khesusuaema?' he asked curious. Maevin smiled and her eyes took on a glitter of mischief. Henry knew he was the only one who saw this side of her.

“Letters of Familiarity requests,” she said. “I think I explained those to you on the first day.”

“Yeah, you did,” he said surprised that he wasn't squirming as much as he thought. “There was a lot on that day.”

When the shuttle landed so long ago and Henry had been ushered out, he was drowned in Xaltean culture. The language around him sounded strange, the men and women were undressed, and the rules were so much different than when he lived in the Holy Innocentia. The fact that Maevin was sitting there, talking like normal while being completely topless would have had him blushing so red, you would have thought he was sun burned.

I've come a long way, and this proved it.

“So,” he said pulling the tablet closer. “What do we have?”

Maevin's delicate eyebrow shot up in curiosity and he grinned at her.

“I am lord of this estate. I think I should know what's going on, right?”

“Of course, Master.”

Maevin stood came around to the other side of the island and sat down on the stool beside him. He did his best not to flinch as she was now so close to him. She leaned in to look at the tablet more clearly.

“So, there are a few types of possible letters that one can issue. Within the estate, between estate, and outside the estates,” Maevin began to explain as she pointed to the different words.

Henry nodded, his eyes scanning the screen. “The difference being?”

“Well, most of the times on the estate, we don't police relationship unless it may pose a security risk,” Maevin began to explain. “On the estate, we only expect a letter of familiarity from our 4th order maids and higher.”

“Due to their access to me and the rest of the estate?” Henry guessed.

“Yes,” Maevin nodded. “The lower ranking really don't pose much of a risk and as we know, love makes one due stupid things so we try to limit that vector of attack against us.”

“And this khesusuaema sorunuelu. That's the outside version?”

The mistress of Blue Blossom nodded, her dark hair moving a bit though part of it was matted to her forehead from the heat. “Yes. That's situations where an eemodae wish to be in a relationship with someone from another estate or house and khesusuaema slenavisha is for relationship with the general public who are not part of our house system.”

“Someone would want to do that?” Henry said surprised.

Maevin tilted her head a bit confused. “We're...not a closed system, master. We may be a ruling estate but our relationship with the populace is extremely important. I am in communication with Governor Valkaelu weekly. We give tours of the estate all the time and there are many opportunities for citizens to work on the estate outside of our maids.”

“I...I didn't know that,” Henry said surprised.

“Well, that is mostly my fault,” Maevin said with a sigh. “I may have sheltered you too much from who we are.”

The young man nodded and patted her on the shoulder ignore how soft her skin was. “You had to play it safe. You had no clue who I was. I want to know. I'm not quitting and I want to make this year the best I can. I need you to explain everything, even the culture parts you worry that will offend me.”

Maevin gazed into his eyes and he knew she was searching for hesitation, a trap, but whatever it was, she didn't find it. She clicked off her tablet and let out a sigh.

“I understand how honest you are with your dedication,” she started carefully, “but there are parts of our culture that you may find uncomfortable or disgusting. It is hard to judge what is too much and what is holding you back.”

Henry nodded and smiled. “I'm a big boy. I can make those decisions on my own. I've made it this far, I don't see myself changing anytime soon. You and your people are amazing and I'm glad to be here.”

The Mistress of Blue Blossom smiled at him, the tension in her shoulders leaving. She clicked her tablet on again, “If that's what you wish, then there is something I need you to be made aware of. I've shielded you for some time but we have reached a point that it looks like I am interfering. I was not sure how to broach the subject with you.”

“What's up?” Henry asked bracing himself. This is what he had asked for.

“Do you remember Princess Fanina? Back at the tekiasetel?”

How could Henry forget? He had been drug into another room with the pretense of saving his life and then the woman stripped naked and climbed into his lap. Yes, Baroness Neeza Tavik had burst in and the visage stopped her but it was really hard to pay attention to anything else when he had that magnificant chest in his face.

Maevin gently thumped his hand to bring him back to reality. There was irritation in her eyes but it didn't make it to her voice. “I see you do remember the banquet.”

“Uh...yeah,” Henry responded coloring up.

“Well, the crown princess has sent an official request for you to take a concubine.”

It was at that moment, Henry had decided to drink some water and just like one of those silly comedy shows his sister enjoyed watching, he spit it out coughing.

“I'm sorry...what?” Henry said trying to clear his throat.

“A kyakihanxa,” Maevin continued. “Concubine is the closest word I could find in your language.”

There had to be more to it. His mistress would not have sprung this on him just like that. He calmed his heart and folded his hands in front of him on the island top. “Alright, explain to me what it means for your people.”

“A concubine among the Xaltean is a man or woman who is sent to an estate as part of their personal retinue. They are usually the children of higher ranking nobles. That act as ties between houses and estates.”

“I assume also as hostages between two houses that may not be getting along but need or want to,” Henry surmised.

Maevin smiled at him. “Very perceptive. That is the case in many situations. They are also part of a secondary alliance system that can be built if they are lucky.”

“Meaning?”

“Among houses and estates on good terms, it is quite common for one house to send a concubine to another with the express purpose of trying to get that lord to impregnant the concubine or the lady of the estate to become pregnant from the male concubine. The child would have status in both houses and would be an unofficial tie between them.”

The young Terran lord swallowed hard. This was definately something he should have expected but still caught him off guard.

“And the crown princess wants me too....”

Maevin finally let him off the hook with a chuckle. “Taking one to your private retinue does not mean you must have sex with them. It is just something to be aware of so that you aren't caught off guard if one tries to seduce you.”

“I mean, I understand what the point of this is but why me? I know I hold a unique spot but I'm only here for a bit. I don't see the point of making an alliance with me. It should be with House Avernell.”

“Because the crown Princess sees this as an opportunity to solidify her support among the houses. If House Patton-Avernell is willing to take a concubine and she gets to pick the house to send, then that house is going to be willing to do whatever to make sure it is their woman or man to go.”

“I'm a pawn again.”

Maevin shook her head. “Not a pawn but it is part of our political games. This is common. The only thing uncommon is the crown princess doing this. It's usually the High Barons.”

“Something I have to watch out for.”

“Yes.”

Henry Patton sighed and put his head on the cool marble counter top. “So, you think I should take one?”

“Candidly? Yes,” Maevin said. “You are part of our politics now and ignoring it will be detrimental to you. There are many who still hate Terrans and will use this to humiliate our High Baron. Shame and humiliation are worse than death in our culture.”

The young man nodded. There was no getting around this. He had promised to stay here for the year and he wasn't going to abandon his people.

“Who did she suggest?”

Maevin tapped her tablet and slid it over to him. On the screen was a woman with long deep violet hair in thick curls and bright crimson eyes to match. The emerald green dress was cut asymetrically with it running from one shoulder to her hip across her chest and then the longer skirt that was half way down her hips with strips of ribbon cloth straight up to her top piece so that the top held up the bottom.

“Oh, wow,” Henry said eyes wide before he looked up embarressed. Maevin's face had a bit of a smirk but she nodded. “Yes, exactly. That is why you should be careful. As you can see, she was selected because she is close to your preference.”

“Who is she?”

“Lady Aenixa Veemae of House Kolisai. Her father earned the title of Earl from the High Baron of House Kolisai due to his actions at the Battle of Last Light against the Drull.”

Henry looked down at her picture. A part of him was flattered that the royal houses went out of their way to find a woman he would like but also his gut twisted at the thought of how much digging they had to do.

“I...don't have to sleep with her or anything?” Henry asked tentatively. “You know I'm not...going to do things like that.”

Maevin shook her head. “It's not an expectation though she may try to convince you otherwise if their goal is to create a secondary alliance.”

“And she's not going to replace you?” Henry asked to make sure.

The mistress of Blue Blossom's face grew gentle and she shook her head. “I serve at the will of my master and no one can command me except for you and our High Baron.”

“Good.” He did not want to lose her. He slapped the island top with his hand. “Well, if it's the best political move to make. Then let's do it. Can you handle the invitation?”

“I can,” Maevin said gathering her stuff up. “There are some gift expectations and the proper endowment for a lady of her stature. You'll need to write a letter in your own handwriting to be delivered inviting her. How is your written Xaltean?”

“Sucks.” There was no point in lying about it.

“I'll have Yil focus on that for your studies for now. This isn't going to be an instant thing. There are a lot of steps and expectations before she can be properly invited to the estate.”

Henry walked her towards the door and held it open so she could go through with her hands full.

“I don't know what I would do without you,” he said as she made her way towards the stairs to her room.

That was the honest truth.

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?