Rick looked at the Earl’s ‘estate’ and felt that the proper term would have been ‘fortress’.

It was surrounded by its own smaller wall, and there was a wide open space right behind the only entrance. But within the smaller set of stone walls was a structure that looked just about ready to take head on a nuclear bomb and stay standing. The dark gray walls of the building were oddly angled inwardly, like something that had attempted to make those approaching to imagine it had been inspired by a pyramid. With at least three or four stories tall and without any windows short of the very narrow arrow slits. And though there was no stone “peak” to speak of, Rick could certainly recognize the radio tower that emerged out of the top.

As well as the eight winged maidens that were perched at several points of the metal tower, each of them looking down at them with intensity. Rick could almost imagine how quickly they could shoot him down if they so wanted.

Monica as well, because she moved to stand directly in front of him and growl at the winged maidens on the tower.

Three of them spread their wings and jumped off, quickly vanishing from sight as they soared elsewhere. The fourth took a heartbeat longer, her wings larger than the other three, a deep blue that almost made her melt into the light sapphire of the clear sky above.

There were no other guards besides Deneva and the knights that had been escorting them through the city. She marched unerringly towards the gates, unflinching as they opened, seemingly on their own. “This way, sir.” She declared once the heavy metal doors of the fortress pried open for them.

Monica stopped at the threshold of the door.

The growl came back.

She was standing stock still, for the first time in the whole trip up the city, no longer focusing on Deneva directly but on the corridor ahead. Her claw grasped Rick’s hand and she would not take a single step more. “Bahron.” She declared with narrowed brows and tightened fists.

Rick grimaced, feeling suddenly several dozen eyes locked onto them and watching their every move. He knew all too well what she was concerned about. He himself did not like this meeting whatsoever. Just being here sent his mind reeling straight back the Baron’s dungeon, and it clearly did so for her as well.

“Monica.” He took his free hand and lay it against the back of her furry hand. He looked up into her eyes and slowly stroked her wrist. With a deep breath, he pushed his concerns down. Whether this was a trap or not didn’t matter. It was too late to back down now, and if things got messy, they’d tackle them as they came.

Taking half a step backwards, he nudged her paw and tugged a little. “Rick protect Monica.”

Her ears flattened against her head, focus flicking once more between the fortress, Deneva, and him. She wasn’t happy about this one bit, yet she took a step forward and into the fortress. Needing Rick to urge her for two more before he could finally turn around and lead the way.

He noticed the green-haired knight had been staring at him ever so slightly, but her silence continued. Rick felt like he was being quietly judged.

The corridor was relatively wide, and it led into a large circular chamber that made every alarm in his head go off as it looked like it was exactly designed for an ambush. The walls at either side had slits in them, with people standing behind them. The door in front was partially out of sight since it was behind a wall. Attempting to rush through would mean having to move around or over that wall, and throughout the whole distance those standing behind the arrow-slits would have had a grand time shooting them down. He held back the grimace, following Deneva as she opened the doors leading out of the ‘entrance’ area and into a larger chamber.

It was far better illuminated than the corridor, the light poured into the room from narrow windows up the walls, yet the light appeared amplified somehow, bathing the area with a clear natural glow that made the otherwise dreary locked chamber appear so well illuminated it might as well have had tall open windows instead.

But his focus on the marvel of light manipulation was cut short when he noticed a lone figure standing in the center of the room. A human, the very first thing Rick noticed was how the man stood with a certain degree of poise, wearing a deep blue set of clothes inlaid with gold and silver that sparkled under the rays of light. The man’s face was a study in round contours, an attempt at making something spherical appear slim and long, his black hair framing the sides of his face and hiding the true form that his plump cheeks betrayed, anyway.

The man was short, short enough he wouldn’t have been able to look Rick eye to eye if not for the set of heeled boots he wore, the only leather on him. The rest of his body freely flowing within the soft garments and shirt, both loose enough to make the portly proportions become harder to determine in full.

“Welcome!”

The man spoke with a boom to his voice that was slightly startling, there was force behind the word, bouncing around the room like a canon that had just gone off. He bowed his head only ever so slightly, the barest amount to acknowledge their presence.

“I am Tylen Vitchatt the first of my name, Earl of Balet, son of Nair the Brave, third of his name. I invite you to my home.”

Rick drew from what he remembered from his conversations with Victor, bowing his head a bit more than the Earl had. “I am Richard Cross, offworlder.” He glanced at Monica, pinching her wrist a little for her to let go. “I accept your invitation.”

She just snorted, returning her focus to Deneva as the knight had moved to stand next to the Earl, lowered to one knee and keeping her gaze aimed at the floor in front of Rick’s feet, unwavering.

“I must ask to be excused, Monica has… much to learn.”

“Forgiven. No reasonable man can expect a feralborn thing to learn proper manners on the road, let alone the span of a month.” The Earl smiled brilliantly, his eyes pausing at how Monica was holding onto Rick’s hand and not letting go. “Normally I would request to have a minute alone, but it seems your maiden may be too uncomfortable here.”

“She is very protective.” He did his best to put up a polite smile. “The last time we were apart…” Pausing, Rick thought through his words carefully. “… there were some unfortunate circumstances that put us both in danger.”

He was all too aware there were such things as truth detection magic. The last thing he needed was to unwittingly set off an alarm somewhere. He was not sure what were the Earl’s goals. He wouldn’t have even showed up if he felt he could’ve gotten away with it without complications.

“Understandable, all feralborns tend to be quite possessive of their first owner.” The man smiled slightly. “I imagine it must have been rather hard to put up with her while not having the adequate resources to discipline her.”

Rick’s shoulders stiffened ever so slightly.

“If you wish, I could assist in distracting her.” Tylen declared with a slight gesture at Deneva. “You must be weary from the road after all.”

“I’m… not quite sure what you mean.”

The Earl blinked, then chuckled. “Oh, I must be the one to ask for forgiveness, I’d heard rumors that your maiden habitually did some… unsavory things to your person. My offer was merely to have my knights spar with White Claw until she tires. If nothing else, a tired maiden is far more easily handled and taught.”

“Be that as it may…” Rick coughed slightly, glancing at the feline who looked more impatient than tense. “… I think this is not a proper situation for it, as Monica does not understand the concept of a friendly spar, and has yet to… grow accustomed to this environment.”

The man laughed. “I wouldn’t worry too much, Deneva is the strongest maiden in my domain.”

It had been said so offhandedly, so dismissively, Rick felt a prickle of anger as his gaze turned towards the green-haired maiden. He couldn’t help but ask himself what powers did she have? How strong was she compared to Monica? Could she really beat the feline? The royal knight had not moved a millimeter, not shown the barest sign of emotion, her eyes still locked on the stone floor in front of Rick’s feet.

The thought was hastily crushed.

If trouble arose, the best card in his hand right now was that no one here knew the extent of Monica’s abilities.

“I thank you for your generosity, sir. I, however, feel it would be counterproductive to have Monica attempt to fight seriously without understanding the rules.” He forced a slight laugh out. “She may attempt to kidnap me and run if she sensed she cannot win.”

“True true.” A nod, he clapped his hands twice. “Please, rest and recover. You are an important guest, feel free to roam, though you will have to inform the knights if you wish to take White Claw on a stroll through the city.”

“I… ah, certainly.” Nodding, Rick glanced at Monica again before pushing his thoughts away from her. “I must admit I am not familiar with the customs surrounding hospitality. Is there any particular requirement needed from me?”

Tylen nodded slightly, the fat of his neck compressing and almost revealing a second chin as he did so. “Considering the circumstances, I believe the safest approach would be to assign Deneva to your personal use. Anyone else might be harmed if your maiden were to do anything untoward. Feel free to ask her anything you might need.”

Somehow, the silence in the room became colder, and Rick noticed the barest of twitches from the green-haired knight. Just a slight flicker of the eyes as she focused on the Earl’s leather boots before lowering her head in a slight bow. “It would be my honor.” She spoke with the same cold and detached voice of precise control, standing up to meet Rick’s gaze. “I will lead you to your room.”

He felt there was an accusatory edge to those words, hidden somewhere.