Moving out of the palace had felt like a military operation.

Rick had prepared for it with Dia and had also requested some assistance from the Earl. The plan was a simple three-step plan. Part one was getting Monica to gorge herself on so much food she’d be halfway into a coma. Part two was to march straight out of the castle with a grumpy and sleepy Monica in tow. Part three was to go all the way through the city and to the restricted area, where their rented house would be waiting for them, and where Monica would go straight to sleep.

Of course, the plan did not survive contact with the enemy.

Monica had eaten her fill and then some, all the tasty meats she could’ve ever dreamed of, and she’d particularly enjoyed the potatoes and breads. Unfortunately, she also caught a whiff of something else.

“Chocolate?”

Her ears had perked up, pupils dilated, tail stilled.

Rick knew right away they were in trouble.

It hadn’t been the Earl’s intention, of course. Their host had wanted to give them one good meal before sending them off. The man had explained something or another about how the cocoa seeds could only be grown by specially trained maidens. But it was mostly lost to the sound of Monica effectively becoming a living shredder.

No pastry survived the encounter.

Rick suspected the cat had eaten half her weight in meat and thrice that in sugar.

By the time the meal had been done, Monica was on the verge of puking. Not wanting to make things worse for himself in the Earl’s house, Rick rushed the goodbyes. Next to him, Monica grumbled her way out, being dragged around and very unhappy about it. She’d insisted on wanting to return to the room to go lay down, holding her tummy with the paw that Rick wasn’t pulling.

The knights had done a salute and some pretty marching to, basically, close the door behind them as they left. But Rick knew they were on a countdown now and had started to march straight through the city. He’d started seeing the signs of trouble quite soon, Monica’s complaints of a rumbling stomach had vanished within the minute, her hand leaving her gut and soon she was walking right next to him rather than lagging behind.

When the feline had started to audibly sniff at the air, they had, thankfully, reached the restricted area. But the troubles were not over.

The change in scenery had been drastic. The previously generously spaced houses were more compact, with very few streets and most of the apparent population following three main streets parallel to one another. The buildings weren’t made of stone but wood, and looking at the dirt road and the roots that dug from the house structures into the ground, Rick had to guess these had been made with plant manipulation. There was no metal or stone or glass to be found. The windows had large planks to block them when closed. The doors were flimsy thin planks of wood.

The whole place was walled off from the rest of the city, contained much how the Earl’s palace was separate from the rest of the population. In this place, though, coming in and out was far less tightly controlled.

Either that or the guards had gone to hide the moment they’d spotted Monica.

Actually, that appeared to be the case for just about everyone.

The silence had been deafening.

Doors were shut, windows blocked by curtains, and Monica was vibrating next to Rick. The smile on her face was manic, ears twitching this way and that, her body straightening and her shoulders squaring off in what was clearly a swagger. Her tail lashed back and forth with every step, licking her lips as she looked this way and that. The feline was bouncing on the balls of her feet, claws scratching at the dirt.

“Food?”

“No. No food.” Rick glared. He gave Dia a hopeful glance as she discreetly pointed at one house in particular. “Home, sleep.”

Monica looked at the three story high building with a ‘2-25’ on the front and her nose wrinkled at it. “No.”

“This is what happens when you do something bad, Monica.” Dia muttered under her breath, not being discreet of the glare as she shot the feline.

The glare was returned, but Monica would not be persuaded to remove the look of skeptic disgust from her face as they approached. Dia pulled out the set of keys she’d gotten from the house’s owner that morning. The inside was… sparse, which was a nice way of saying ‘empty’.

“Is… it meant to be like this?” Rick muttered, closing the door behind him.

There was no glass, stone, or metals, the house was entirely made out of wood,

“This… is what it means to live in the restricted area.” She declared. “The bedroom is in the basement. It’s where the humans are meant to sleep since it’s the safest place.”

As she spoke, she summoned an orb of glowing light and moved where?

“…” Rick rubbed at his temples, marching further in and muttering under his breath. “It’s cheap, at least.”

“For us.” Dia replied. “These buildings are made to have a dozen or so maidens sharing accommodations.”

He blanched. “Have you lived in a place like this?”

“No. But healers get a chance to practice with those who live in the restricted zones since there’s always an injury to be patched up.” Her mood increased a little at that proclamation. “I think I should be able to help trade some healing with a plant-type to get some proper furniture… here we are.”

There were some stairs leading down. “So why in the basement?”

“Safety.” Dia commented, both ignoring the disgusted sounds Monica was making behind them. “Feralborn girls can sometimes get out of hand, and if they happen to knock something down in the middle of the night, being underground is safest.”

It was a room, with a simple bed-frame with no cushions. The walls were made of solid stone, and there were wooden columns and beams reinforcing the structure. Shelves littered every wall other than the one with the door.

Dia dropped the two large backpacks she’d been carrying, proceeding to unpack the cloths that were to be their bedding. “This will have to be our bed tonight, but we can purchase something better tomorrow.”

“This makes me think of my days as a student.” Rick muttered with a deep groan. “Do you think I fucked up by renting this place out?”

“I think you did well in considering your financial circumstances and not wanting to depend on others.” She replied. “With what we have, we could hold out for months. A wise move when the objective is to seek stable income.”

“So long as Monica doesn’t do anything to punch holes in that.”

Said feline woman was currently poking the ceiling of the room with her claw and sniffing her claw right after. Something about the smell didn’t seem to mesh well with her, frowning and glaring at the stone that surrounded the room in every direction.

“Indeed.” Dia replied. “Though she is likely to be, ironically, the greatest asset.”

“I’ll have to think about that.” Rick grumbled, shoulders slumped. “I’m not even sure I’d want to stay in this city. But that’s a concern for later. I think I’ll talk with Tomas and the others once we’ve settled down. He sent me a letter about wanting to meet and help someone.”

“Rick.” They turned to Monica as she poked the door. “Go back to sleep, good sleep. Bad sleep here.”

“This is where we sleep now, Monica.” He replied, pointing at the mantle Dia had laid on the ground. “You fought, you caused a problem, so here we are.”

She frowned. “Monica sorry?”

“And being sorry isn’t enough.”

“New words.”

“Monica bad.” Dia stated. “Monica fight, no ask. Earl angry. No good sleep. No good food.”

The feline’s ears canted sideways. She glanced from Dia to Rick as he nodded in turn. Her lips pursed slightly as she glanced at the door. “Monica… sorry? Monica no hurt shiny bad lady!”

“We’ll talk tomorrow.” Rick began helping Dia in setting up the cloth on the large bed-frame as they unpacked and prepared to sleep for the night.