I Own a Brothel in Another World

Chapter 245 – Home Sweet Home

For a short while, we just stand behind the entrance and take our situation in.

While Sirgia definitely thought a lot about this in the past and yearned for it to come to pass, it’s not easy to go through. She’s been away for years longer than she most likely should have. I can feel the stress and anxiety eating away at her as she replays the conversations with her relatives and close ones inside her head. My presence and support try to thwart them as much as possible.

In my case, I take in the sights, wondering what crazy things I’m about to see. There already are some unique and hardly recognizable noises reaching our ears from many directions, clearly bouncing off the walls of the sizable buildings. In the end, even if they are an outer branch, this massive facility belongs to a renowned artisanal family. People here are working hard on their projects and inventions all the time. I bet Sirgia would feel at home amongst them.

That said, not many currently visible buildings have windows, and if they do, only a few. I guess that’s partially to prevent other families from easily spying on them, and partially due to structural integrity. I’ve seen my fair share of rather combustible and explosive artefacts of my lovely evil genius’ making. Placing the workshop deep underground and reinforcing it was one of the best decisions. Otherwise, people would be flocking to our location regularly to check on the commotion.

Still, the workshops and halls here are much bigger than what we have at home so it’s definitely much safer too. Judging by the state of some eager inventors that come in and out of those places, the parties they are attending certainly can’t be boring. A singed beard or blackened uniform are at the bottom of the list of collateral damage they have suffered. But, their clothes must be special too or else the monthly tailoring bill would be astronomical.

Mari would faint on the spot seeing it. She avoids any financial talks with Ria for a reason. And we are happy to accommodate her. No one wishes for her creativity to be limited by the belief that her work consumes way too many resources.

As men and women of various ages stroll around, I note the obvious detail. They are all fairly skinny compared to most Dwarves. This is where my adorably petite wife comes from, so it’s not that much of a surprise. But seeing so many thin Dwarves in one place is something else. The city has been fairly mixed so far, perhaps leaning towards the classic version.

Of course, not everyone is a walking collection of sticks. However, the books don’t lie by saying that the lineages tracing back to the Mad Lady are slimmer eight out of ten times. 

Having prolonged our departure as long as we could, I place a hand atop Sirgia’s shoulder and squeeze it reassuringly. “Let’s go. The quicker we get this done, the sooner you can get back to worrying about how to fit more vibration modes in your latest pussy destroyer.”

A quiet giggle escapes her lips as she glances at me with rosy cheeks. “Those certainly are more pleasant things to worry about. It’s always a struggle to fit more gems into that limited space without affecting the general feel and performance.”

“Crystals are stored in the balls,” I say with the most serious face I can muster, causing her to chuckle again. “Yes, I remember rather well. As much as I would love to say the bigger the better, I’m not a fan of overexaggerated depictions. Though, I guess if we could find the clientele for it…”

“We’ll have to ask Mevana. She must have done at least some research into the market here. I’ve heard that the fatter the Dwarf girl, the bigger the pussy.” She escapes with her gaze shyly.

Thankfully, Mev is pleasantly thick instead. I would say hers is perfect for her delicious build.

“Is that applicable to the male equivalent?” I raise a curious brow at her.

“Yes…” Sirgia admits bashfully. “Just the other way… The bigger the Dwarf guy, the fatter the cock…”

I do recall her mentioning something like that in the past. Their kin’s genitalia tend to go for width rather than length. We might find some size enjoyers amongst the female half after all, then.

But first, we gotta steal back the market with a more traditional lineup that appeals to a bigger audience.

Giving my troubled mate another squeeze, I finally convince her to move on. Taking my hand back, I’m surprised by her quick reaction. She catches it right away and intertwines our fingers, looking up at me hopefully. Since it seems like we aren’t going to act completely neutral, who am I to reject such a cute gesture? And if she needs it to feel more confident, then please, by all means.

We start a slow walk through the front courtyard, passing the multi-level fountain in an octagonal shape. I don’t recognize the figure at the top, but that has to be someone important from her lineage since the man is dressed in gorgeous armour and wields two incredible hammers in his hands. No doubt I will learn a lot of history in the upcoming days. It might prove useful during our dealings with Sirgia’s and the other families.

Stockhawkers aren’t the only lineage we should keep an eye on. Some might argue that the rest is much more important. Because, after we are done with those thieving bastards, everyone else will flock to fill the created power gap. We’ll need good alliances.

Getting the approval of the outer Forgegravers is bound to help with that a lot.

Diana captures much less attention than I thought she would, but to be fair, like seventy percent of people we pass are lost in their own thoughts. I’m shocked how they never run into each other, walking either with their heads in the clouds or their eyes in some kind of notes. It’s like they possess some legendary additional sense that guides their bodies when their minds are absent. 

The number of times where I have to step aside to avoid colliding with a literal Dwarf Zombie is incredulous. Sirgia doesn’t seem to have similar troubles. It’s almost fascinating watching her subconsciously fit right into this weird traffic stream. As much as I try to focus on her, I can’t catch any meaningful changes in her pace, pathing, or anything else. Yet, she misses her kin by a hair’s breadth every damn time.

Really, I gotta drill her about this one day and we might just invent a device that will revolutionise carriage rides in city centres. And any other wheeled transportation for that matter. No more traffic jams and late deliveries. A perfect commercial world.

In any way, this is like an anthill. Hopefully, they don’t send signals to each other through pheromones. Selling Dwarf musk to Humans or other races might not go easily.

As we venture deeper into this stronghold, the variety of scenery increases. Open ranges and testing areas appear here and there. Not everything can be checked in an enclosed space. Plus, I’m sure environmental data is just as important for some inventions. No one wants their proverbial baby to die on them the first second into the slightest atmospheric influence. That would be embarrassing.

“Hey. Did you spike the beer yesterday or I’m not hallucinating? Is that who I think it is?” Some dude’s uncertain voice makes me focus a bit more.

“Gramma’s arsehole, you are right.” Another one joins in, just as disbelieving. “What are the chances?”

By this point, I locate the source of the upcoming commotion. And I say upcoming commotion because it’s clear these voices belong to individuals Sirgia recognises, her expression souring instantly. She pays them no mind, but as it always goes, the duo, which actually grows into a trio, pauses whatever they have been doing on their practice field and heads our way.

One of them has long straight blond hair and a silky-smooth face, way too delicate for his kin. It’s impossible to guess his age accurately, but if he isn’t a cringy teenager, he definitely is going to turn out to be quite an immature adult. Dressed in a set of attire worthy of the most common car mechanic, he wields a wrench in his gloved fingers.

The second person is also male, but with a braided black beard that reaches his belly, matching his shoulder-long hair. He seems to be the team’s data scientist or something. His clothes scream pencil pusher, which he actually uses to write on a notepad, wearing brown pants and a cream button-up shirt.

Then, there’s the woman who hasn’t spoken yet but obviously belongs to the pack. She’s copied Sirgia’s hairstyle with two big braids, but hers are toxic orange. Her attire resembles that of the first man, even dirtier from their work. Out of all of them, she seems the most hostile, glaring at us, or more like at my companion, with a noticeable sneer.

And she is the one to start the commotion I mentioned earlier.

“What a sight to behold, boys.” The lady snorts as they block our path. “As if this day couldn’t get any worse. Always eager to ruin everyone’s time, huh, Sis?”

I glance at my lover questioningly.

~Not my siblings. I don’t have any, as far as I know. Things might have changed,~ Sirgia explains in my mind. ~The same generations born from parents with alliances and friendships often call each other brothers and sisters. It creates a kind of rivalry between specific lines. The patriarchs even encouraged it through the years, saying that competitive spirit boosts creativity.~

Or sows discord throughout the family, but I don’t say that out loud. She is more than aware of it herself already.

The ginger girl pokes a finger into my mate’s chest. “What the fuck are you doing here, traitor?”

“Traitor?” Sirgia blinks at her confusedly.

“Did you think we would welcome you with open arms after running away to greener pastures?” The woman laughs crudely. “What, did whatever clan you fled to finally realise the massive mistake they made?”

Looks like some people have their own ideas about what happened after Sirgia began her journey and did not make it back.

~Some teachers praised me by saying that I’m too big of a gem for a small family like ours. I didn’t think anyone ever heard that since those tutoring meetings were in private,~ my beloved adds some more context again. ~Nevertheless, what they meant to convey by that was their encouragement to continue my pursuits in hopes that perhaps one day the main pillar would notice my talent and recruit me. It happens extremely rarely, but it’s everyone’s dream, pretty much.~

Yeah. This girl is clearly delusional. 

Or projecting.

We might want to write her name down, just in case.

Though, I have no idea who she even is since they didn’t deem it necessary to introduce themselves.

~Thomin, Ganfar, and Wistia,~ Sirgia answers my unspoken realisation. ~We had to run into them right after coming back…~

~I take it you four weren’t particularly close back then?~ I ask with a mental snort.

~Oh, we were close, Master. You can’t sabotage someone without being as close as possible.~ She mentally shakes her head. ~I didn’t expect to find them here. These courtyards are usually used by apprentices. Enough years have passed for them to already be at journeyman level, or even higher. I must have miscalculated.~

~Or they are just that shit at what they do.~ I smirk openly, not caring if they see or not.

A sweet giggle responds to my quip. Fortunately an internal one.

“I think you forgot the layout of the place,” Thomin, the blonde, chimes in, crossing his arms over his chest. “Servant applications are received in the northeastern part of the complex.”

The trio snickers at his amazing joke.

“Cut her some slack, Thom. You know that those with more experience in the field can try their luck straight with the Chief Maid in the assistant quarters southwards of here.” Ganfar points his thumbs over his shoulders.

Classic bullies. Someone feels threatened by the return of the rising star.

And for a good reason. Now that they are on my shitlist, it won’t take long before they get cleaned up.

Honestly, I’m surprised Diana is taking this so well. I can feel her urge to bite their heads off, but not a single growl escapes her muzzle. We’ll have to start rewarding our loyal companion for her impeccable discipline with something special. I don’t even have to say anything for her to understand the situation perfectly.

“Cat got your tongue?” Wistia frowns after they finish laughing at their own comedy. “Or is your throat sore from sucking Human cock all day and night, you sellout whore?”

Sirgia sighs deeply and tugs at something on the side of Diana’s saddle. There’s a springy noise of a coil snapping and a net launches forward faster than the gang can react. The female releases an unladylike yelp as she’s thrown backwards and pinned to the wall of the nearby building, the two of her sidekicks staring at the scene with wide eyes.

“This iteration is meant to restrain monsters with high physical resistance and durability by making use of metal threads that compress almost infinitely,” my crafty wife announces tiredly. “I would advise you to act quickly or it might get a bit ugly.”

The metal cables start tensing up immediately and the duo breaks out of their stupor, rushing to save their friend, who has quickly figured out her situation and shouts at them to hurry up, voice full of panic and terror. Sirgia ignores them completely and continues walking as if nothing happened, desperate shrieks filling the air behind us.

Peeking up at me from the side, my vicious partner flushes deeply. “She has no idea how close to the truth she was…”

It takes me a moment to understand what she’s referring to and I chuckle goodnaturedly. There’s no way I would ever leave her sore, but I get the point. Perhaps that’s what that brat needs. A good old dicking with some spanking. But, it’s not like I have time and interest in correcting her behaviour. I have my hands full of much nicer Dwarf girls already.

Soon enough, we leave the vicinity of the accident. Since Sirgia shows no sign of concern for the woman’s fate, the net is either super simple to dismantle, or she gets off easily for murdering her lineage sibling in cold blood. Survival of the fittest and all that. Most likely not, but nothing would surprise me at this point. The atmosphere here is certainly more than just a little cutthroat.

Not that great of an environment to nurse multiple generations of geniuses.

“We need to submit a request for an audience before we can meet the Patriarch,” Sirgia says as we approach a humongous mansion multiple times as wide and tall as our own. “It’s required that I report to him as soon as possible. There might be questions, but you don’t have to hide anything for my sake, Master. I don’t plan to lie to the Patriarch. If he believes me, that’s a different story.”

“If he doesn’t, I’ll make him.” I plop a hand atop her head and ruffle through her hair. “But we might want to hurry up if you expect more encounters like the previous one. I don’t know how long I can hold back. Diana’s leash is getting looser too.”

She offers the two of us a charming smile, stroking the big wolf’s fur gently. “Thank you. Their insults don’t affect me. I have much more valuable things to pay attention to than vanity.”

Earning herself an affectionate lick, she chuckles and stumbles a bit. I help wipe her face off with a handkerchief and she instructs Diana to use my shadow for a moment. Our understanding companion complies without a whimper of protest, watching over us from beneath my feet.

We might have gotten away with parading her outside, but marching through the main residence with a monster of this size could be problematic. It’s better to avoid creating unnecessary problems. Especially since we have already caused a scene or two.

Her decision proves to be the right one as we are welcomed by the sight of numerous maids and butlers running from side to side. They aren’t as absent-minded as the inventors and I can imagine how easily distracted or scared they can be. Many pause to take us in with raised brows or frowns, but their obligations and responsibilities outweigh curiosity and confusion many times. No one wishes to lose their job due to being late. 

Since we are here, then that means someone let us in, and that someone might lose their job instead if they fucked up and let in some random psycho.

Sirgia doesn’t stop anyone to ask for directions, knowing this place like the back of her hand. We move with a clear purpose in our steps. Or at least she does. I just follow, making an effort to look professional but not too intimidating. I’m here as a mercenary and need to show it, but it would be nice not to be viewed as one of those greedy and unscrupulous thugs that sometimes slither into this profession, being no better than typical bandits.

After taking a stupid number of turns and corridors, we finally arrive in front of ornate doors that could even lead to a throne room. There’s a booth to the side with a bored-looking guy and a bench right next to it. When Sirgia walks up to him, it feels like we are about to register for a dentist visit instead of requesting an audience.

“Greetings, Secretary.” She respectfully lowers her head. “Does the Patriarch receive guests today?”

The aged receptionist throws her a glance from behind his rectangular glasses and drops his gaze behind the counter to peer at something only he can see.

“There’s a spot open after his current consultation with the Elders. I can’t give any estimates so you would need to wait here for a chance to catch his attention since I assume you don’t have a tag?” He meets her eyes calmly.

“No, this is an abrupt request. Abiding by family’s rules, I came here first thing after returning from my pilgrimage,” Sirgia replies.

The man nods and gestures aside with his eyes. “Take a seat, then. And you, sir? What’s your business?”

“Escort,” I answer simply. “I’m looking after Lady Forgegraver until I’m dismissed. Will that be a problem?”

He examines me from top to bottom, or top to half due to his position and height. “I don’t think so, but we will know for sure after the Patriarch takes notice of you two.”

“That’s more than fair. Thank you.” Seeing that he is done with us, I bring Sirgia to the waiting bench, which is thankfully cushioned. “Do you usually have to wait long?”

“The Elders don’t like to drag the meetings so it should be less than three hours if they just began,” she responds, finding my palm and brushing the back of my hand with her thumb.

“It’s alright.” I lean in and place a dainty peck on her sweet cheek, the sidewall of the booth covering us from the Secretary’s gaze. “You are worth waiting for even if it takes eternity.”

Sirgia’s head swivels around as she scans the hall, then her arms swing over my shoulders and she pulls herself up into a proper kiss. I hold her close by the small of her back as our lips cordially brush together as quietly as possible. She retreats as quickly as she’s moved in, dropping her eyes to her thighs and acting all innocent.

Thankfully, no one walks in for the next three minutes because she can’t make it more obvious that something is going on with how hard she tries to hide her fervent blush.

A quarter of an hour later, it gets a tiny bit boring. I can tell that Sirgia has dove into the mysteries of her mind, most likely going over thoughts and ideas related to some of her dear artefacts. Or she might be designing an improved model of my cock again. Both things never fail to relax her, which is certainly great for our situation.

So, I need to find something to focus on too.

At first, I decide to refresh my memory regarding the list of my Partners and the abilities they can offer me. With the cooldowns removed, my range of motion has increased drastically. I always have a general idea of who specializes in what so I know where to look when I’m in need of something from a certain school of magic or affinity, but being able to switch pretty much on the fly, it would be better to memorise the list in more detail. It can cost precious seconds to locate the desired skill. In battle, those seconds can completely change the outcome.

This can be reduced with practice, but some things can’t.

I still have to navigate the menu. No matter how quick I have gotten with it, it’s still a choke point in my plan to streamline the process as much as possible. It’s also prone to mistakes in the heat of battle, though not as much of an issue as before, where a single error disabled the ability for days. Still, I would prefer not to stumble over skills when in need.

Thinking about resolving this bottleneck consumes nearly an hour without any results. The best solution I can come up with is vocal commands. But, even if I truly burn every single skill and its owner into my mind, some of them can sound very similar or straight up the same. Wanting to always pick the highest level, that’s an issue. Levels increase too. Especially with mercenary girls and others who train a lot.

Perhaps I should kindly ask Lumina if she couldn’t make me a skill that handles it for me.

Wait.

The System displays what we are capable of. All skills and abilities that appear there are either the result of our potential or hard work. Some show up at certain Tiers because our bodies and souls need to grow enough to acclimate to the power. And I’m not only at Tier 7 now but also got a recent demigod upgrade, during which part of my skills changed.

I should be able to make that skill myself at this point.

Well, it’s worth a try, at the very least.

Closing my eyes and entering deep meditation, I focus on projecting the menu screens in my mind. It’s as simple as thinking about them so they show up right away. The visual panels that my eyes perceive are all signals going straight to the brain anyway. I’m just skipping the intermediary.

Now, I could train myself to display a huge wall of skills in my mind’s eye and target them individually, or to navigate through all the sheets in a flash. Both options are feasible and acceptable. But, they still require a lot of input from me. In terms of conscious input.

It would be better if I could program my brain to use something like… algorithms.

Yes. That could work.

I have no idea how long it takes me, but I focus on teaching my subconsciousness to make behavioural associations. It comes to life slowly, but the more combat situations I think up, the faster it gets. 

When I’m attacked with fire, the first thought is to counter it with water, so here is a list of useful water skills and abilities to combat it. When I’m thrown underwater, the first thought is to secure my breathing, so here is a list of wind skills and abilities that fit the role. When I’m stalking a deer, the first thought is to remain undetectable, so here is a list of stealth and camouflage skills and abilities to conceal my presence.

One after another, imagining these situations, I go through hundreds of scenarios, mentally navigating the list of skills at my disposition. Bit by bit, it gets faster, turning into some kind of filtering system, coughing up abilities relevant to the given query. When you don’t have to rely on a finite number of hands, things move much quicker.

Only after I sense a weird tingling in my soul and the process suddenly speeds up do I stop. Opening my eyes quite sluggishly after the mental marathon I’ve just run, I find a familiar pinkish rectangle hovering before them. A wide grin forces itself onto my lips right away.

I really just taught myself a new fucking skill. Or maybe even invented it.

Granted, it’s not anything groundbreaking. It does exactly what I’ve been doing and it’s a passive ability. Basically, my brain will keep a handful of skills at the ready depending on the variables present in the scenario I find myself in. I can feel it working even right now, trying to figure out what fits my current needs best.

It’s a success. I don’t have to think about it actively anymore. To a certain extent, of course. Manual activation is still far superior, no doubt, but amidst chaotic battle, instinctive switching might just save my or someone else’s skin.

Thank you, my generous and gorgeous Goddess.

~It’s all you.~ A regal chuckle tickles my mind. ~You are finally starting to make use of your divinity. I wish I could have explained it to you earlier, but it’s a very personal journey. Everyone discovers their method differently. It looks like your modern upbringing affected yours a lot.~

~Do you mean to say that to will my godly influence into something, I have to think of it like I’m building an app from simple blocks?~ I ask in disbelief.

~More or less,~ she replies mirthfully.

~Good thing modern marketing involved a bunch of programming courses just because.~ I groan inwardly. ~At least I don’t have to write the entire code line by line.~

~Exerting your power is fairly intuitive. This is just a comparison. You noticed it yourself, that conditional approach of yours. Don’t think too deeply about it. It will come naturally to you,~ Lumina advises.

We will have to see about that.

I don’t get to say anything else as the faraway echo of someone’s steps captures my attention. As soon as I lock onto it, my brain spurts a few skills that will help to investigate it better, and quicker than I can register it, super sensitive hearing from one of my feline companions activates, turning the sound sharp and detailed.

A female is approaching, her short but raised heels tapping the stone floor regularly. She has some meat to the bone, so possibly not a pure Forgegraver. Common height amongst the Dwarves, the top of her head cutting through the air at the height of the bottom of my ribcage. She’s wearing a thin thong or a g-string as her asscheeks rub tightly against each—

Ooookay, that’s too much information.

This new ability of mine might be too dangerous.

I’ll need to practice a lot so it doesn’t activate on its own too often.

As soon as I shake my head, a maid fitting the profile I have scouted strolls into the room and looks around. Noticing us, she heads our way in a straight line. I try my best not to think about the perky behind her short skirt is hiding, her coworkers most likely unaware of how dangerous the sight from underneath is.

“Miss Forgegraver?” she calls to Sirgia after stopping ahead of us.

My lovely wife comes back to the world of the conscious, her adorable lashes fluttering slightly.

“Lady Siriel and Lord Giacolo sent me to fetch you,” the woman informs us. “They would like to receive your greetings.”

Sirgia pales in a matter of seconds like she’s just seen a ghost. I don’t need to be a genius such as herself to connect the hints. Not when this is literally a one plus one equals two situation.

My appalled lover turns to the booth, where she finds the receptionist leaning past his counter a little bit.

“I’ll send a servant for you shortly before the meeting ends,” he announces with a faint smile. “Go.”

So there are some good people here.

She swallows thickly and nods. Shooting me an anxious glance, she grasps my hand, and I help her up. As we follow the ass-clapping maid—I really should have disabled this skill instead of tuning it down—it looks like we are heading for execution instead of a family reunion. It can’t be that bad, can it? Their precious daughter is returning safe and sound.

Our guide shows us the smaller but still decently ornate double doors and waits on the side. Giving Sirgia one last comforting squeeze, I retract my hand from hers, not wanting to start on the wrong foot with my future inlaws. Baby steps. First you gotta remove racism, then you can think about kissing the bride in front of their eyes.

Taking a deep breath, I open the door for her and hold it as she strolls inside. Closing the wing after we both pass through the doorstep, I follow my lithe lover from a respectful distance. Two figures await us on an embroidered sofa that could fit five.

One is a bald man with a greyish beard cut fairly short for his kin, reaching the line of his shoulders in the shape of an inverted triangle. He fancies a twirled moustache to match it and wears a neat white suit. He is slim, perhaps even a bit more than his daughter, and his eyes glisten with unshed tears right from the beginning.

The other is a woman sharing hair colour with Sirgia, and partially also hairstyle, using one big braid instead of two. She wears a combo of black pants and a grey shirt, her sleeves rolled up. Judging by some small marks on it, she must have come from a workshop, or something like that, quickly cleaning herself up but not having enough time to change clothes. Her lip trembles with similar emotion to her husband, but then morphs into a snarl as she stomps forward.

“After all those years, you show up in front of us just like that?!” She articulates loudly with a powerful voice. “We thought you were dead! The life pendant shattered right in front of my eyes!”

Sirgia flinches as her mother gets into her face, stopped from pressing further only by her father, who grabs his wife’s wrist as quickly as he can.

“The ship was attacked by pirates—”

“You could have written!” Lady Siriel cuts her off with a shout. “Did we fail to instil the meaning of words and paper into your mushy brain, you idiot?! Or did you lose yourself in your absurd daydreams of fame and adventure so much you forgot how the world works?!”

“I found myself in a difficult situa—”

*SMACK*

I jolt when Sirgia’s cheek is suddenly struck with an unexpected slap, surprising pretty much everyone in the room. Barely in time, I stop Diana from lunging out of my shadow, and my newly designed ability from selecting a plethora of skills useful in beheading the enemy in a blink. My fists do tighten though as the force pushes my small mate into my front, grazing the reddening side of her face meekly.

“Doesn’t seem to have been that difficult if you can stroll in here with your nose in the air like you own the place!” Her mother snarls to the side, getting tugged back by her husband even more. “Do you have any idea how we felt, you coghead?! Your father was sick for an entire year while you were gallivanting around the realm! Was it worth it? Was it good, you unfilial bitch?!”

“I’ve been… captured…” Sirgia whispers quietly.

The woman’s eyes register the collar and they widen briefly before jumping up to tense face. It’s all I can do not to glare at her.

“A slave…” She takes a step back, then finds her fury once again, dropping her gaze to her daughter. “The sea must have completely eroded whatever brain you had left by that point for you to lead your bastard of an owner to your family! Do you wish to see all of us caged by this perverted sadist?! Is that your goal?! To sell out your parents so that you can feel better seeing him humiliate, torture, and break us alongside you?!”

Sirgia seems to find her bearings after that, taking a step forward with a tense posture. “Don’t slander my husband—”

“Husband?!” Lady Siriel’s voice cracks from shock. “You’ve given yourself to your very ra—”

*SMACK*

Unfortunately, thanks to all the stats she receives from me, even I’m not able to react fast enough to stop the swing my petite mate launches at her mother. The force creates an impact wave in the air and sends the woman flying into the man, both of them smashing into the sofa, which lifts to its back legs and slides to the wall before landing hard on the floor again. Both of them look stunned, but fortunately unharmed.

“I said DO NOT slander MY HUSBAND!” Sirgia practically screams at them, her front foot encased an inch deep in the cracked tile of matching shape.

Her parents blink owlishly like they are still processing what has just happened.

Ah, yes.

How could I have expected things to go a different way?

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