She shook her head a little and touched his arm gently.
“Really, it's not that, or at least no one mentioned that being the case. Everyone just wants to make certain you're alright and see what the plans are now. You and Smythe were looking for the Austrans and inside a week you found them. I'm not joking here either, even if they did attack you rather than being hunted down. No one has ever gotten one of their assassins alive before, much less a whole team. The arm and leg thing was a bad idea though. Effective, maybe needed, but too many of the Counts are considering it as punishment for sever crimes. It's even been suggested for Major Jarad.” Most of this got said while he was washing her back, just using his hands on her soft flesh, working suds out of the weak lavender scented soap. It wasn't his kind, but since Collette was in charge, they bought what she wanted. With his money of course, since that was only appropriate. Her house skills were amazing. Tor probably would have just been living in one of his little original houses and washing with sand if not for her.
The thought made his mind jump and skitter for a moment. Were there different kinds of spies for different tasks? Ones trained to be good husbands or wives, others to be whores and transport drivers? Well, that last thing was new, but the idea probably held. If you wanted to track military doings you got a military man. Or a whore that serviced them.
Tor had to show Ursala how to use the magical clothing when they got out, but the instant she got the idea, she loved it. If nothing else, he assured her, it would cut her clothing budget and make packing easier.
“Screw it.” He said, loading a small box with them suddenly. She raised her eyebrows.
“Harder to beat up on Tor when he just delivered a box of prezzies to your wife and daughters, isn't it?” Tor pantomimed a whip being used. “Lash. “But daddy look at my pretty new dresses!” Lash. “I can make it glow.” Lash. “Isn't Tor so wonderful daddy?” Distracting if nothing else, right?”
She kissed his cheek and helped him design something that would say both “formal” and “please don't beat me too much”. It was a heavy green velvet coat over a darker green silk button up shirt, with black velvet pants and dark green boots that shone like mirrors. It even had a belt though it didn't need it. That was black though, with a glossy silver buckle on it. Nice and elegant enough for a luncheon or even dinner at the palace, but not flashy or eye catching. No red to spur on combat rages or simple blood lust. Her reasoning sounded like rote learning, which she assured him it was.
“Didn't you have that class in school too? I thought everyone had that. It was always right before the class on recognizing spies.” The funny thing was that she sounded dead serious about it.
She had a new shield when they left too, which got her to make pleased noises as if it were just a glowy necklace instead of a device to keep her alive. That was a real problem he knew. No one wanted to wear one all the time, it made everything harder to do, like wearing gloves did. But if an attack came and you weren't ready, most people also forgot to turn it on in time. Sometimes you didn't even know you needed it until it was too late. Tor's spine ached in remembered pain from his own experience with that, a boot to the back that kicked him down some stairs.
He could fix that flaw, by having an automatic turn on for it, but it would have to be incredibly sophisticated to handle all real world threats. It would have to do that, turn on perfectly when needed, since most people would grow used to using it and forget to turn it on in times of potential danger, just counting on it to protect them anyway.
It was nice that she thought it looked good enough to be real jewelry. It was just dirt from outside with a bit of cow leather, so maybe she was just being kind to him about it? He had to remember that, who she was. He may get to play with her like it was something real, but in the end he was just her stable boy, and the junk he made a few wild flowers tied together with hemp string. It was easy to forget that sometimes because she was so nice to him, but that's really what it came down to. Tor was a servant, the kind that made things for you on demand, not an equal.
Well, that was nothing new.
They rode together to the palace, in a carriage, which Tor disliked in the main, but could put up with for his friend, since she actually thought it was special and tasteful. Not-flyers didn't allow for a lot of dignity, did they? People floating around like ghosts, right hand in the air to point their way. Fine for him and the kids, but the high royals didn't use them in the streets and Ursala was that for sure.
It was faster getting into the palace in a carriage though, and they'd probably let Tor in, which was never really certain. Twice he'd been turned away. Everyone had claimed it was a mistake, but how hard was it to let someone in who was expected? Just approaching the black metal bars made him want to turn around and leave the city all together anymore. This wasn't a comfortable place for him at all. It was too nice, too much had been spent on it, and bad things kept happening here. Attempts on his life, finding out unpleasant truths.
“Do you have need of bakers up in Thorgood?” It was an idle question really, since he was needed to work here for now. But after the war, maybe they'd let him go?
Distantly, since she was reading papers, the Countess murmured softly.
“Sure. Considering a career change?” Her voice was light, not really paying attention it seemed.
“Thinking about it.”
It was clear she was busy, and as much as he hated doing it, Tor shut off his shield and pulled the two blank bits of light tan from his pocket. The field to go on then was both old and new, and the decorations had to be too. Something unique. This was special. When activated, these would glow a brilliant purple, he decided. He had nearly an hour left to work, enough time if he could manage to go deep enough. Only this time it was different. Not bad, or scary, but he blinked and they were there. The new one up device in his hand had writing on it, as he'd intended, but he couldn't remember doing the work. It was perfect. He could feel that without hardly trying. Good enough, but a bit novel in how it happened. He'd encountered a little of that kind of thing before, but this was different, like a single blink instead of an hour. Not even a full single breath.
It felt odd.
Tor was still really deep in a trance state when he was led by the arm into the dining room. It wasn't filled with hundreds of people, but a good dozen sat around the table. Some he knew well, some he didn't. For some reason they sat him next to Connie again. They did that every now and then, as if it were a joke, since it was technically the forth most important place at the table and putting him there, he'd learned, would tell the world that he was either her top advisor, or her lover.
And he obviously wasn't her advisor was he?
She looked radiant as always, her skin clear and reddish brown hair artfully arranged, today pins with small butterflies in multiple colors in enamel held everything in place. That along with her gauzy light blue gown and white shift made her look very cool and comfortable. She reached out and took his hand gently as he sat.
“Are you well?” It was a murmur, polite and concerned, but said softly so no one else could hear. She actually wanted to know then? It had taken a lot of time and he had so much to figure out, but bits and pieces were starting to come together for him as far as courtly graces. Unless he was just dead wrong and it was a polite bit of small talk.