Chapter 18

Faerson Manor, Olnfield, the Kingdom of Wuthia, 1125

Bridget (Sesa Faerson)

The next day, I went to check on Richard. He didn’t come home last night after Mabel and I left him in town. While the walk was kind of long from the town to the manor, he should’ve been back at the manor. He had probably found a busty lass and had some late-night fun, falling asleep in some inn. That man. His dick will always get him into some trouble one of these days.

I came downstairs, where I greeted some of the Phasionites who were busy going about their tasks set down by our stewardess, Eudora. It seems that they were quite the fast learners. The manor already looked like a regular noble manor with servants bustling about the interior. The chatter of servants and their footsteps fades into the background as I make my way to the common hall toward the table, where a humble but hearty spread awaits. Mabel and Solomon were already digging into the food before them.

“They made us breakfast,” Mabel said, eating from a bowl. “It’s really good.”

“It’s been so long since we had a home-cooked meal,” Solomon said.

A mug filled with chilled, spiced wine sits near me, and the aroma of porridge, freshly churned butter, and eggs beckon from platters nearby. The crackling of the fire echoed behind us. I didn’t wait that long before diving into the spread myself. It was delicious.

“You’re right,” I said, scarfing down a forkful of eggs. “It’s been a while since I had a decent breakfast.”

“Osgood made it,” Solomon said. “Apparently, he’s our cook for the manor. Eudora told us he used to cook their meals when they were travelling.”

I washed the eggs down with the chilled wine. Oddly refreshing with the eggs. This was turning out to be a good start to the day.

“Did you see Ric –” Solomon started before stopping and looking around. “Did you see Marak this morning?”

“No,” I said. “I was going to ask one of you two if you saw him come home last night?”

“I didn’t,” Mabel said. “The last time I saw him was when we left him at the town last night. He went to get a quick drink before returning to the manor.”

“He probably got too drunk and slept it off in an inn in town,” Solomon said. “It wouldn’t be the first time he did it.”

“True,” I said, cleaning the last bit of food on my plate. “I probably just go in town today and check on him.”

“And pray if drinking was the only thing he did last night,” Mabel said, chewing on a piece of warm bread.

But we all knew better than that.

After breakfast, we all went about our daily activities. I went to the stables, where I met another of the Phasionite. He was scrawny with brown hair and wore a cap that covered most of his head. When he turned to face me, I noticed he also had freckles on his face. “Good morning, m’lady,” he said, imitating a bow. It’s going to be a while before I can get used to being called ‘m’lady’.

“Morning,” I said. “Sorry if this comes off rudely, but what is your name?”

“My name is Rolf,” the scrawny man said. “I’m your stableman and find your question not rude, m’lady. It was quite nice.”

“That’s a relief,” I said. “Still new at this ladyship thing. Anyway, I was wondering if he saw Marak coming in last night?”

Rolf thought for a while before he spoke. “No, m’lady. No one came to the manor last night. I was up until the first of midnight. I see no one.”

“Thank you, Rolf,” I said as I mounted my horse after he brought me it. He was quite a good stableman. But before I left, I had one more question to ask Rolf. “Rolf, one more question. If you don’t mind me asking, what was the reason you were branded a Phasionite?”

Rolf was frozen in place. I could see in his face; he was filled with both fear and deep shame. He slowly took his cap and held it in both of his hands. “It would be a matter of time before one of you asks me. Ever since I was a young lad, I would love to watch others ... lie with each other. I would peek at neighbors, friends, and even family members. It excited me.”

“So, what happened?” I asked.

“I was caught by a local priest who was fucking one of his parishioners. It wasn’t long before I was outed as both peeper and blasphemer. I was branded a Phasionite and was kicked out of my village.”

“I’m sorry to hear that,” I said. “But you don’t worry about that here. My family is quite ... open-minded. And if you ever feel the urge, let’s just say, you wouldn’t be that much in trouble.”

I winked at him. His cheeks became red, and a smile crept on his face. “Thank you, m’lady.”

“Don’t mention it,” I said.

He did an awkward bow again as I rode my horse outside the stables and headed towards the town to find the whereabouts of my cousin, Richard.