Chapter 97: Fleetfoot

I spent a little time chatting with Sam, Gwin, Zutiria, and Meri after the Princess got over whining about her just desserts. Once they’ve made sure that I’m not lying and that I really do feel better, Gwin brings up a plan that the girls had made without my knowledge.

“If yer good for it, Lad, do ya mind if we leave ya with Zu fer a while? Ah went an’ promised I’d take the stutterin’ shield an th’ royal disappointment somewhere fer a few hours.” The Dwarf asks, revealing that she knows Sam’s true identity now, too.

I can’t say I’m even surprised anymore. Perhaps we should just get Sam a nice little nameplate and save ourselves the time it takes her to accidentally let slip to every new person we meet that she’s the Crown Princess of Karnalle.

“I’ll show you a royal disappointment, short stuff!” Sam laughs and cracks her knuckles.

“Already lookin’ at one,” Gwin returns the Princess’s playful banter.

“S-S-Stuttering s-s-shield...?” Meri stutters, shrinking back from shyness. I give her a reassuring pat on the head which improves her mood enough to summon a tiny smile.

‘Yes, by all means, go ahead and leave us to our devices,’ Zutiria teases while sitting back on my lap and nuzzling to my chest like a spoiled cat. ‘I shall take care of Sir during his fragile and emotionally vulnerable state. It’s only fair, considering he does the same thing for me each and every night.’

“You heard the little lady,” I stroke Zutiria’s straight, lavender locks and smile.

“Zuzu, we’ve talked about this shit!” Sam puffs out her cheeks and grumbles. “Not fair!” In response, Zutiria merely shrugs her shoulders to show how little she cares about playing fair.

Meri looks at the Mage cuddling up to me and clutches her heart. “I wish I could be that close to you...” She mutters, perhaps not meaning to say it out loud.

“Meri...” I give her a tender look that surprises the anxious bundle of adorableness, only for Gwin to roll her eyes.

“Righ’, we get it. Everyone fuckin’ loves ya ta bits. Let’s get a move on, bitches!” She says.

“Y-Yes, I’m sorry!” Meri jerks up like she did something wrong and is eager to apologize for it.

“You’re just jealous that we got interrupted,” I tease the Dwarf, who crosses her arms and makes a series of grumpy Dwarf noises as she leaps off of the bed and heads to the door.

Gwin’s patience runs thin. She grabs her gloves and toolbelt off the desk, re-equipping them while saying, “Yeah, well, ah fucked yer mum. If we’re goin’ then let’s go.”

Sam tells the Dwarf to wait a moment before turning her attention back to me. “Boss, do you mind if I take 5,000G out of my account? I don’t wanna spoil the surprise, but it’s for the Guild. Kinda. I mean, it’s actually for me, but also in a way that’s still for the Guild, ya know?”

“You don’t need to tell me what it is. I trust you.” It is her money, after all. Even if she wants me to use it to improve the Guild, she’s entitled to use it whenever she wants. That’s not even bringing up how indebted I am to Sam and how I would give her the moon if she asked for it.

“Heck yes!” Sam pumps her fist in the air. Then, to show her appreciation, the Princess leans in and gives me a loud, wet kiss on the cheek. I give her the combination to the Guild’s safe, so she can go and open it for herself.

“See you all tonight, then?” I ask as Sam and Meri shuffle past the large hole in the bedroom floor to follow Gwin, who is impatiently tapping her boot against the floor.

All three girls give me confirmation and head off. Sam and Gwin use Nikita’s newly created shortcut, saving themselves some time as they land in my office below. Meri nervously leaves the room properly and hurries down the stairs to follow after her ruder friends.

It’s just my Mage and me now, a fact which brings great pleasure to Zutiria. Without saying a word, she stands and sits behind me. Zutiria wraps her arms around my neck to pull me down onto her lap, and with a gentle smile, she begins stroking my hair. ‘Rough day?’ She asks. ‘It’s not like you to drink so early. I can smell it on your breath, Sir.’

I laugh and shake my head. “No, it’s not that. The Goddess offered me a few drinks...”

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‘Guess she can’t be all bad, then. I sincerely doubt there are many Gods that one could sit down and casually have a beer with.’ Zutiria then stiffens her expression. ‘Forgive me. I’m sure you don’t want to talk about these things just yet.’

“You’re fine, Zutiria. I don’t even think you’re capable of upsetting me.”

The Mage closes her eyes, only to reopen them after a long, silent pause. She looks off in the middle distance as she says, ‘You don’t know that, Sir...’

Although I want to say something about her negativity, the chance is robbed from me when we hear the sound of shattering glass coming from downstairs, followed by a young, boyish voice cursing, “Shit!”

I jump out of Zutiria’s lap and look at the Mage, who heard the disturbance as well. ‘Get behind me,’ Zutiria holds up her hand and summons her staff from downstairs, which flies through the open door in my office and up the hole in its ceiling.

Together, we cautiously creep down the rickety wooden stairs.

Each painful step exacerbates the tension hanging in the air as we scan the area with our eyes, looking for any signs of the hidden intruder. After reaching the entrance hall, we walk towards a window that was just smashed in. Zutiria’s staff glows with purplish-black energy as she readies her powers to use at her discretion. ‘An awful lot of good a fancy Dwarven door does us when the Guild is riddled with holes, rotted wood, and breakable windows...’ She frowns.

“We don’t have the funds to fully fortify the building, you know that...” She brings a sigh out of me, and I slump my shoulders.

“You might want to get on that, Mate. Not that you’ll have a chance once I’m done with you...” An unknown voice calls out to us from across the room. Unlike the childish tone we heard minutes before, the intruder now sounds like they’re magically masking their voice with some sort of threatening echo. Zutiria and both turn to face the voice’s owner but find them nowhere to be seen.

“Show yourself, damn it!” I spit out, almost on instinct.

There’s silence for a moment before a response that neither of us expected. “Eh, sure. Why not? You’re about to die anyway.” The voice is now coming from a table a few feet away. Zutiria and I watch in total bafflement as the intruder gives up their strategic advantage by suddenly appearing after removing a golden magic ring from their gauntlet.

I don’t get a good look at them because a brief look at the intruder causes me to flinch away from the sight thanks to a magical mask sitting on their face. This mask is primarily white, with black, red-outlined slits running up and down the sides of the face. Glowing yellow eyes stare out from behind their mask like fire upon a black sea.

The mask isn’t terrifying in and of itself, which leads me to believe it to be an artifact that causes fear in those who gaze upon it. Looking at it for more than a second causes me to flinch and avert my eyes.

The intruder is a small figure wearing a dark leather jerkin riddled with gratuitous straps, leather-studded gauntlets, pauldrons, as well as a mysterious black hood and cape. Across their hip, they wear a belt laden with many pouches, and below, they wear dark brown leather trousers with yet more leather straps. Their pants end in what looks like leather greaves only without shoes to accommodate their large feet covered in reddish-orange hair. No doubt about it, they’re a Halfling.

As far as gender goes, it could really go either way. Halflings tend to be underdeveloped compared to other races, and this one is smaller than Zutiria.

Zutiria uses this chance to shoot off a Negatiball spell at the intruder. “W-Wait, damn it!” The rogue exclaims, dodging and tumbling off the table in a rather ungraceful manner.

‘Why should I wait when you said you’re going to kill us?’ Zutiria points her staff threateningly at the Halfling.

“Furthermore, why in the name of the Gods would you reveal yourself during an assassination attempt...?” I shake my head in confusion, making sure to keep my eyes trained on their feet while avoiding looking at the mask.

The rogue jumps up and dusts their pants before turning their attention to Zutiria. “Never mind any of that,” They mumble. “Look at you, though... this mask doesn’t scare you, huh?”

Zutiria tightens her fists around her weapon. ‘No. Why should it?’

“Fair enough,” The rogue laughs while shrugging their shoulders and throwing up their hands. “I mean, we both know you’ve seen a lot scarier in your lifetime... right? What with you barfing up nightmares and all that when you were just a little girl.”

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