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“Trust me, I get it. But the offer will stay on the table. Neither me or my drones will bother you.” He nodded to the lead drone, a creature he was definitely going to have to name at some point. “Come on. We can work somewhere else.”

Keaton hadn’t taken more than a few steps when he heard her quiet voice free of suspicion and contempt.

“…You really don’t understand, do you?”

He turned back around, waiting for her to explain. Along with her tone of voice, her demeanor had softened. She still looked fearful, shrinking away from him and his drones, but she no longer seemed like she’d strangle him to death with his own intestines if he took a step closer.

That’s progress, right?

“I… can’t leave this place. I was born in this cave, and every time I’ve tried to venture too far from the crystal, something terrible happens.”

“Something… terrible?” That sounded ominous. Keaton couldn’t help wondering if that was what happened to her wings.

“My life force weakens and I’m more susceptible to fatigue, injury, illness… anything you can imagine going wrong has happened to me each time I’ve tried to break my dependence on the crystal.”

“And the dungeon lord?” he asked gently, searching her eyes.

The woman flinched, looking away from him, and Keaton instantly regretted his question.

“No, it’s okay. You don’t have to tell me.” He thought for a moment, hand reaching up to his chin, fingers brushing the day’s growth of stubble there. “Okay. So. You need to stay near the crystal, but someplace safe. I could have the drones carve out a room for you and see if I can make or find a pallet for you to sleep on for now. Would that help?”

“You… actually do want to help, don’t you?”

She scrutinized him for a long moment. So long, in fact, that Keaton wondered if she was learning something about him that he didn’t necessarily want brought into the light of day. He began to feel self-conscious and restless, shifting his weight but refusing to avert his gaze.

He was supposed to be a dungeon lord, after all. Just because he didn’t want to be cruel didn’t mean he could afford to ever look weak.

“I-I’m sorry, forgive me,” she stammered, looking away from him. “Many dungeon lords have come and gone since my birth here. Some have been less cruel than others, but none of them have ever expressed anything resembling empathy. I just… I’m surprised, I suppose.”

“Well, don’t go thinking I’m a saint,” Keaton clarified. “I’ve got my vices like anyone else. Pointless cruelty just isn’t one of them.”

She swallowed, glancing in his direction again. She couldn’t seem to look at him now, and Keaton wasn’t sure if that was better or worse than her practically hissing in his general direction.

“What… may I call you, my lord?”

Keaton’s nose scrunched. “Not that. I mean don’t get me wrong, it’s a little appealing, but ah,” he reached up a hand, rubbing at the back of his neck. “It’s not really necessary. You can just call me Keaton.”

“Lord Keaton,” she mused, as if tasting the words on her tongue.

“That’s not—” he sighed, giving in, “yeah, that’s fine. But what do I call you?”

Wide eyes blinked almost owlishly at him, her innocent expression so incredibly endearing. She looked away again just as quickly before answering.

“I… know my parents must have given me a name, but I don’t remember it. Each lord to rule this dungeon has called me something different, save for the last. He called me nothing more than ‘girl’ or ‘whore.’”

Keaton’s gauntlet balled into a fist, his fingers curling tight against his palm. His jaw clenched, teeth grinding together, and it was all he could do to remind himself that the man who’d treated her that way was already dead.

The dragonkin shrank away from him, though, cowering behind her arm. She was positioned as if she expected something to be thrown at her, and Keaton soon understood why. He was radiating purple-black energy, the darkness swirling around him like a mist.

“Shit, sorry. That’s new.” He forced himself to calm, drawing in a deep breath. “I’m not angry at you. I’m angry at the asshole who hurt you.”

“…Why?” she asked, venturing another glance at him. “You are human, are you not? You should have an innate hatred for my kind. For all ‘monsters.’”

Keaton scoffed at that. Of course, he’d been taught that monsters were inherently evil creatures, but there was obviously a difference between this woman and the mindless… well, drones that followed a dungeon lord’s every whim.

In school, Keaton had learned about the many atrocities committed by monsters. Whole civilizations leveled for what seemed like the hell of it. He’d believed that, because what else was he to believe? He’d never known any monsters to get their side of the story.

That, though, was well before he’d learned that there were plenty of “monsters” among his own people, and perhaps they weren’t as credible on right and wrong as he’d once thought. He’d started viewing all of it with suspicion then, so it was surprisingly easy for Keaton to empathize with this woman.

Maybe it was just because he’d seen her in pain; had watched a human harm her, with intent to harm her further. Whatever it was, he knew that if he could raise that damned dungeon lord and torture him until he begged for death… he would probably do it.

“I should, but I don’t,” Keaton said simply, not wanting to explain the twisting and complicated reasoning.

“I see…”

She drew her bottom lip between her teeth and Keaton couldn’t help his gaze being directed there. Her bow-shaped lips looked as soft as a human’s, and the way they lightly glistened when she released her lip made him lick his own.

Rein it in, Keaton, or you’re going to seem like you’re no better than the last guy.

“I suppose you should be the one to name me, then,” she said, looking up at him with eyes that had seen far more than Keaton could ever fathom.

“What? No, absolutely not. You’re not my pet, and you’re definitely not my possession.”

His skin crawled just thinking about it. Maybe she didn’t see it that way, but to Keaton it was just… wrong.

“Why don’t you choose a name for yourself?” he asked.

“I…” she blinked at him, not seeming to understand for a moment. Her gaze was incredulous, her lips slightly parted in wonder. “I suppose I could, couldn’t I? If I am not bound to you, then I am free to choose my own name…”

The sentence trailed off in wistful, almost childlike fascination. Had she really been so poorly treated that this was something she considered a blessing?

Apparently so.

“Oh, what will I choose!” a girlish giggle brightened the tunnels considerably, making Keaton smile even though she stifled it soon after. “I’m sorry, Lord Keaton. I’ve never been given this opportunity before.”

“Take some time with it, okay? When you come up with a name you like, let me know.”

He offered her a smile, and, to his surprise, she smiled back, displaying many of her teeth. Human teeth, for the most part. Human enough, anyway, aside from those two pointy fangs up front. There was something cute about them, and definitely cute about the way she looked when she smiled.

“In the meantime, let’s see about getting you a room.”

He gestured for her to follow him, heading back toward the Crystal Chamber with his drones in tow. Before he’d even taken a couple steps, the dragonkin spoke again.

“Wait, my lord. If you’re new here, that means you have little to no comprehension of how a dungeon works, correct?”