Ch.6

The gentle sound of water droplets falling onto the bucket below created a steady rhythm in the small room. Within it, a woman's voice struggled to articulate as she attempted to read a children's book. It was the lamia that Erik had captured, and her speech was slow and labored.

"The... Apple... Is used... T-To mack."

"It's make, not mack," Erik corrected her.

"Make..."

"Yes, that's right. Now, say 'Apple pie.'"

"...Apple... Pie."

Satisfied, Erik tossed a small piece of raw meat onto a plate beside her, which she eagerly consumed.

The lamia lay on the ground while Erik sat on a stool in front of her, his legs crossed and a bowl of fresh, raw meat in his lap.

The lamia nodded, her eyes fixed on the remaining pieces of meat on the plate.

Erik stood up and walked over to her, crouching down to her level. "Remember, obedience is rewarded, disobedience is punished."

The lamia nodded again, her eyes still fixed on the meat. Erik stood up and made his way to the door. He left, returning to his room through the black doorway of magic, only to leave for the bathroom.

It was the dead of night and everyone was asleep. He moved quietly so as to not wake anyone, locking the door to the bathroom as he made his way inside.

He left the light off just in case.

He had to remove the stench of blood and any stain on his hands, though he was extremely careful not to get any on him in the first place, he could do nothing about the smell.

With a soft rag, some warm water from the faucet, and soap, he scrubbed every inch of his body as well as his clothing.

He put on a new set of clothes he had preemptively left folded and hidden in the cabinet.

When he finally finished, he made his way back to his room, being sure to drop his old clothes down the laundry chute.

This became a recurring sequence of events, where in the morning, he would swordsmanship, read, or eat. By nightfall, he would further continue to domesticate the lamia, then repeat the process.

If there was one issue to arise, it would be a lack of sleep and energy, but he would take daily naps in the afternoon to even this out.

Another issue would be his actions being discovered. He took necessary actions to combat this, but he was still cautious of those around him. However, those feelings of wariness and paranoia would dissipate whenever he made eye contact with anyone, as then he could judge their view of him which would always be a fondness. Be it from his own family or those who worked within the manor, they all viewed him as a well-mannered, innocent, and adorable child

It was the third month of fall, nearing the end of the season when winter's first snowfall came early. The servants hadn't even fully prepared for the coming winter, still yet to board all the windows which the head maid quickly had the servants do.

"Snow has already begun to fall! Quickly! Quickly! Board those windows! And bring some firewood in for the pits!"

Snowfall blanketed the land in a thin sheet of white.

Erik could see it from the window of one of the guest rooms, his hand placed against it. It was from here that he could see the front of the estate, the wide open plains ahead and the already frosted paths ahead.

He knew that it was the time of year that a guest who came every winter to visit would soon arrive, though with the snow having suddenly struck, he feared that it would impact their arrival. Thankfully, however, it did not.

It would be two days later on a cold morning, a single carriage pulled up to the estate.

From the carriage, an older man wearing a long gentlemen's coat and holding a cane stepped out, his steps leaving prints in the snow as he carefully made his way to the door.

His knock on the door was heard by a passing maid who pulled up her skirt as she quickly and lightly ran over to open it.

"Oh! Lord Malforn!"

She said as she made way for him to come in.

The man took off his black hat and walked. He was Henry Malforn, father to Celia Chamber, and grandfather to Erik.

"Oh ho ho, do tell the young madam I have arrived."

"Of course! Right away!"

The Malforn family was a wealthy merchant family, and Henry Malforn held only the title of baron. Though a daughter of a mere baron would have little to no chance of marrying into a noble and prestigious family like the Chamber household, they were wealthy enough that they were able to practically buy into the family, though this wouldn't have been enough had the two not loved each other from the beginning.

He was a caring and loving man who Celia took after, and spent the majority of every year traveling and visiting his family, even despite how long and dangerous the journey would be.

Traveling was something that needed to be planned and prepared for days beforehand, and depending on the destination, even moving from within the kingdom's borders, traveling could take weeks on end and harbor unforeseen dangers.

His arrival was greeted with warm smiles, hugs, and pats from the family who welcomed him with respect, as one would offer their elders.

Of course, Erik was his usual stale self, but this did not stop the old man from picking him up and hugging him with delight.

"Hahahah! Erik, my boy! You have grown even taller! Have you been eating the horse feed?"

He carried with him the scent of cigar smoke, and his voice reflected his habit.

His grandfather didn't expect him to be anything but quiet and what he took for being shy, but this time, Erik hugged back, much to his surprise.

"Hm? Oh-ho. Erik. Did you miss me?"

Less than half an hour later, the entire family would have lunch in the dining room. They would bond over a meal while exchanging stories of events that transpired in the other's absence.

Erik had the sort of elusive expression that would lead one to believe he wasn't listening, avoiding eye contact and staring at his food before taking a bite. However, he was listening, committing to memory any little detail that would prove useful.

Simply put, he wanted to further develop his relationship with his grandfather, not in a loving familial way, but because he had something to gain and was in the perfect position to take advantage of his grandfather's soft spot for his own blood.

"Ahh... That was a lovely meal, but perhaps I should clean myself up now."

"Of course, father. A maid will escort you to your room."

"Thank you, my dearest Celia."

It was on his way to his room, being escorted by a maid, that his attention was caught by one of the rooms he was passing.

It was the library. The fire was lit, a blanket was spread across the chair, and books were left out, stacked on the table and the floor.

It was the job of the maids to keep the manor's many rooms clean, so seeing that there was a mess was enough to make him stop and ask.

"Excuse me young lady. Why is there such a mess in here?"

"Oh, that is young master Erik's mess. He spends most of his time reading and refused to let us clean up after him."

Out of curiosity, he went inside and picked up one of the books on the table to examine it, immediately recognizing the title.

"Erik? Are you sure? How can such a young child understand such a complex book?"

"Uhm... Well, it is common knowledge around here that he is quite the bright child. A genius I would say. Even I can't read half the words in there."

"I see... Do continue to show me to my room."

"Of course, milord."

He set the book down and left, ignorant of the fact that he had taken the bait laid out for him. For Erik had already read and studied the contents of those books already, and knew that they were of subjects that pertained to his grandfather's line of work.

His grandfather, after settling into his room and changing clothing, would act on his curiosity and interest in his grandson, Erik.

The manor was large, yet the first room he thought to check was the library where he immediately found Erik, sitting with a book in his lap.

He walked up to him, looking over the back of the seat and down at the pages of the book Erik had open. It was a book on economics and the words completely covered the thin sheets by the hundreds.

"Hmm..."

"Grandfather."

"Ah, forgive me Erik, but, can you understand this?"

"Yes."

"Then, why are you reading this? Are you interested in economics?"

"I suppose. There isn't much to do other than read, so I read everything."

"Is that so?" He chuckled. "I suppose out here in the countryside, there really isn't much to do. Do you not go into the city? They have plays and jousts quite often."

"I have been twice before, but I wasn't very interested."

"Is that so...? Erik, do you know what the imperial currency is?"

"Yes. Ten iron coins equivalates to one copper coin, then by a measurement of ten, it goes copper, silver, gold, platinum."

"Yes, very good. You even know what equivalate means. Your tutors have taught you well."

"I mostly learn by myself."

"Is that so?"

"Grandfather. You travel a lot, right? How can you stand the long rides?"

"Well I do a lot of reading or sometimes I nap."

"How? I tried reading in the few rides I took into the city, but it was too shaky."

"Oh, that? Well, that's just how carriage rides are."

"I thought of ways to fix it. Can you look?"

"Hm?"

Placing the book down on the table, Erik grabbed another one already on the table. It was a journal with no cover, filled with blank pages aside from the ones he'd written and drawn in.

Lord Henry didn't expect much aside from imaginative ideas that a young child would have, possible doodles and messy handwriting, but when Erik opened his journal and his grandfather took it to look inside, he was eyebrows jumped in surprise.

The pages were filled with perfect writing, almost artistic as it was in cursive, and sketches that more resembled blueprints, outlining the makings of a carriage and its parts.

"Oh my... Did you do this?"

"Yes."

"My, my, Erik... This is... Unbelievable. All of this? You wrote this and drew these pictures?"

"Yes. It's of a carriage and parts I thought could stop the shaking. Do you think it could work?"

"I... I can't say. I am no expert... Uh, but... Perhaps I could borrow this and have it sent to an expert in the city. It should only take a few days for it to return with

"Really?"

"Of course."

"All right then."

"Thank you, Erik."

For the entire conversation, Erik acted with an innocent look on his face, one befitting a child who knew little of the world, but the moment his grandfather turned his back to leave with the journal in hand, Erik's natural and stale expression returned.