When I stepped out of the bedroom, I paused by the window. I had to clean up after forging that axe, and it actually turned out better than I expected. The Prince should love it. The sun was setting behind the mountains, casting long shadows toward the city. Picture-perfect, yes, but I couldn’t shake the heaviness in my chest. What did I get myself into? I was now engaged to a princess.

  Two arms wrapped around me from behind. Marlena pressed against my side, her cheek brushing my shoulder. She moved up to the window and sighed. “It’s beautiful, isn’t it?”

  “Yes,” I admitted. “But I don’t know what just happened with the Princess.”

  “I know. I couldn’t believe it either.”

  “I didn’t expect this. A princess…”

  She turned to face me fully, her eyes steady. “David, I was stuck in an arranged marriage until you saved me. For that alone, I’ll stand at your side forever.”

  “That’s an awful long time,” I teased, pulling her closer until our foreheads touched.

  She giggled, and I whispered, “I love you.”

  As she pulled back with a blush, I murmured, “I guess I’m still collecting wives.”

  When she left me to my books, I settled onto the couch. I flipped through my notes, skimming the section on mana storage again. I understood how to pull mana and channel it into tools, but storage still escaped me. Crystals, circuits, something was missing. It should be possible. It has to be possible. This is the Electrical Tower. Shouldn’t the information be inside these walls? Where’s Google when I need it?

  I muttered aloud, caught in the web of my own theories.

  “David?”

  I looked up. What appeared to be Aria stood barefoot at the edge of the rug, wrapped in a bathrobe, her dark hair loose down her back. My analyze skill triggered without me asking. Something was off.

  [Mynia Lyntone (Aria Devanthes)]

  Level: 25

  Class: Assassin

  “You were muttering words I didn’t understand. What’s a Google?” she said softly.

  Who is this woman in front of me? I tried to understand what my analyze skill was showing me, so I closed the book with a sigh. “Sorry. Mana circuit design. Still working through some of the formulas in it.”

  She nodded, then took a tentative step forward. “May I sit?”

  I gestured at the spot beside me. “Please.”

  She folded herself down, legs tucked under, hands resting neatly in her lap. The faint scent of lavender soap drifted between us. For a moment, we just sat there, the silence stretching.

  “I… spoke with Allira,” she said at last, her voice so low I almost missed it.

  I blinked. “About what?”

  “Your request.”

  It took me a second. Then my cheeks heated. “Oh. That.”

  She gave a nervous laugh, but her blush deepened. “If you don’t hurt me, I don’t mind.”

  Before I could respond, she rose to her feet. Her eyes met mine, steady now, as if she’d decided something within herself. With deliberate care, she untied the sash at her waist. The robe loosened, sliding off her shoulders.

  “Aria…” I breathed.

  She smiled faintly, part shy, part defiant, and let the robe fall onto the seat behind her, leaving her tattoos revealed in the soft light.

  “I see you’ve got another woman stripping for you,” Seraphina quipped as she slid onto the seat beside me. Her eyes gleamed with mischief, but there was a sly undertone, like she was reminding Aria this wasn’t her first time seeing such a scene.

  “I… I…” I stammered, caught off guard.

  “Sweetie,” she purred, “I love that face, the one you make when you’ve been caught.”

  “You do love tormenting me,” I muttered.

  “Keeping you honest,” she said with a shrug. Then she turned her gaze on Aria, studying her openly, her smile tilting. “Mmm. Very pretty.”

  Aria’s blush deepened, spreading across her cheeks as she shifted under the scrutiny.

  “Yes,” I admitted quietly. Is this what the real Aria would look like? “She’s… beautiful.” I cleared my throat. “Could you, uh, sit on the table?”

  She perched on the edge, her bare legs tense, shoulders stiff. I lifted her foot gently, turning it to study the intricate tattoos winding across her skin. This illusion is good, but there is something wrong with the patterns on top of her feet. They’re backwards from when I saw Aria before.

  “Aria, you have to get him to give you a foot rub sometime,” Seraphina said with a conspiratorial grin. “They’re divine. Almost sinful.”

  “Wait, what, is she getting a foot rub?” Allira’s voice came from behind me. I didn’t have to look to know she was grinning. She strolled closer, folding her arms and tilting her head as she took in the sight.

  “You know, Aria,” Allira said, voice edged with wicked amusement, “the last woman who bared herself to David married him within hours.”

  Aria froze, eyes going wide. “What?!”

  “Oh yes,” Seraphina chimed in, positively enjoying herself. “She slid into the bath with us, Marlena glanced at her status, and poof, gods-blessed marriage. Just like that.”

  “You’re joking.” Aria’s voice cracked, torn between horror and disbelief.

  “Do we look like we’re joking?” Allira arched a brow, her grin sharp. “That’s the Engineer’s curse, women strip down, and somehow they end up stuck with him forever.”

  “It’s not a curse,” Seraphina countered, patting my knee sweetly. “It’s destiny.”

  “Destiny?!” The false Aria squeaked, clutching the edge of the table as if bracing herself.

  “It’s an Engineer thing,” I muttered, setting down her foot and lifting the other, trying to look studious rather than trapped between my mischievous wives and a panicked assassin.

  And then, Marlena’s voice cut through, calm and quiet from where she had been watching. “They tease you,” she said, her eyes fixed on Aria, “but it’s true that nothing around David is ever ordinary. He pulls people in. Changes them. The question isn’t whether you’re beautiful enough for him, or whether you impress him. It’s whether you’re strong enough to stay when everything starts to shift.”

  The room hushed at her words. Even Seraphina and Allira glanced her way, their amusement softening.

  Aria swallowed hard, her hands curling tighter around the edge of the table. Then, almost timidly, she asked, “David… could you show me your status panel?”

  I glanced up, meeting her nervous eyes. She looked both terrified and fascinated. Without a word, I willed it open. The glowing panel hovered in the air, filling with numbers and skills.

  Her gaze flicked over it, faster and faster, until her jaw dropped.

  “By the gods,” she whispered, her voice trembling. “Skills over level thirty… attributes past thirty… David, are you even human?”

  My hand clamped down around her ankle, fingers like a vice. I felt her bones shift under the pressure as I leaned in, calm but unyielding.

  “Allyson, if you may.”

  “David, what the fuck?!” Mynia yelped, panic flooding her voice. But it was too late. Allyson stepped forward without hesitation, her palm cracking down against the back of Mynia’s head with clinical precision. The mage crumpled onto the table like a puppet with its strings cut.

  I let go of her ankle and sat back as though nothing had happened.

  “That was uneventful. There was something off with her,” Seraphina drawled, plucking a grape from the nearby bowl and popping it into her mouth. She chewed slowly, eyes never leaving the unconscious woman sprawled on the wood.

  Allira folded her arms, cocking a brow. “What’s the plan now, David? She didn’t look like she was plotting your death. At least… not this second.”

  _____________________

  I slid the dagger into my bathrobe pocket and quietly opened my bedroom door, slipping into the hallway. Moving past the other bedrooms, I headed toward the living area. Staying back in the shadows, I watched Earl Robertson sitting with his back to me. Reading? Writing? It didn’t matter. My fingers clenched around the dagger’s hilt inside my pocket. All I had to do was lunge and drive the blade into the artery at the base of his neck. The job would be done. Then I could slip out into the crowds that now always seem to gather around this tower since the engineer returned.

  Ensure your favorite authors get the support they deserve. Read this novel on Royal Road.

  I steadied my breathing. Just another job. No different from the dozens before.

  Movement. One of the maids glides past with a tray. Tea. Why are there so many maids? More than before. Too many eyes. No straightforward way in.

  I slipped into the hallway’s gloom, retreating back to my bedroom. Fine.

  There is always another way. He’s a man. All men have the same weakness.

  I stripped out of the clothes under the bathrobe and fed mana into my skill. My skin shimmered, reshaping into the image of Aria Devanthes. When the illusion settled, I studied myself. No one can see through my illusion. It’s perfect. He already fancied this mage; this would be easy.

  Draped only in the bathrobe, I walked out casually into the living area and stopped before my mark, Earl Robertson.

  “David?” I said softly.

  He looked up, his blue eyes catching mine.

  “You were muttering words I didn’t understand. What’s a Google?” I said. I hadn’t understood any of it; most of what he spoke was gibberish to me. No matter. My blade would find its mark. Poison would do the rest. Payday.

  “May I sit?”

  As I lowered myself into the seat, I shifted the robe just so, letting him glimpse exactly what I wanted him to see. His eyes flickered; good. He was just a man. A lustful man with three wives. They’re all the same.

  “I spoke with Allira,” I purred, layering sweetness into my voice. Classic. Reliable. This would be easy.

  “If you don’t hurt me, I don’t mind.” Another line from my playbook. He’d be mine in moments.

  I stood, letting the bathrobe slip just enough. His eyes drank in what I revealed. My hand caressed my breast; they were fuller than my own. My other hand swept across my hip and the treasures all men see. Yes. Speechless. Locked on the bait.

  I sat down on the edge of the coffee table, searching for the bathrobe. Out of reach. Damn. Distracted. I let my legs spread enough for him to see what he could have. This always works on men like this, as well as some women. He touched my ankle. Lifted my leg. What is he doing? A foot fetish? Sick man.

  “I see you’ve got another woman stripping for you,” came a voice from behind me.

  What? Where had she come from? The wife, Seraphina, sat beside him as if this were a routine matter. I heard of wives watching their husbands as they did things.

  “I… I…” I heard him say. I’m just scrambling back into my helpless-Aria act.

  “Wait. What, is she getting a foot rub?” That voice. Allira Robertson. The swordsman. The one I didn’t want here. Calm down, Mynia. Two of his wives are here. Act normal. Play along. Where’s the third, the real mage? If she shows, this whole job could be blown if I don’t just relax.

  There she is. Was she always in the kitchen? Too many. Too close. I needed a diversion. One last trick.

  “David… could you show me your status panel?” I asked, putting every ounce of innocence into my tone. If he showed it, I’d glance, act normal, grab the robe and the dagger, and slip away. I will go back to my bedroom. The blue panel sprang to life.

  “By the gods…” I whispered. I wanted to scream. “Skills over level thirty… attributes past thirty…” My throat tightened. “David, are you even human?”

  Why was I shaking? This wasn’t a man. What is he?

  Pain spiked in my foot, the one he held. I reached for the bathrobe, for the dagger. Too far.

  Then darkness.

  _____________________

  “Ah, I see you’re coming around,” I said, folding the book closed. The woman in the chair grimaced; words slurred from her lips.

  “What happened to me?” Mynia croaked.

  “Allyson got a bit heavy-handed,” Seraphina answered, sliding up behind me to kiss my cheek. The kitchen smells of bread, with hot spice that made the room feel strangely normal.

  “So, Mynia,” I said, lifting the dagger from the table and letting the light catch along the blade, “what shall we do with you?”

  “We could take her off your hands, my lord,” the uniformed man offered without sympathy. Captain Tiren stood by the wall, precise and unhurried. Vaktar, who’d fetched him, sipped tea like a man watching a slow show.

  “You always attract the most interesting women,” Vaktar remarked, bored amusement in his voice.

  “I agree,” I said. “Captain, what will you do with her?”

  Tiren moved forward, the professional mask tightening. “We’ll bring her to the sheriff for an informal hearing, my lord. The attempted murder of a noble is a standard sentence of death. With the knife, witnesses, and your statement, it’s a closed case.”

  “No trial?” I asked, letting the question hang.

  “Not unless you demand one.” He spoke like a clerk reading policy. “Alternate disposition is slavery. Religious courts can press charges for impersonating a mage, which usually results in long servitude. There’s also the matter of fees.”

  Mynia’s eyes bulged. “No, please…” Her voice cracked; the act was cracking too. Now the fear looked alarmingly real.

  “Fees,” Vaktar echoed. “Fifty gold to formalize the transfer. Standard procedure.”

  Seraphina produced a small pouch and slid it across. Tiren counted, then produced a pale metal collar from his satchel. He handed it up the chain of command with the same steadiness one uses to hand over a ledger.

  “Lord Robertson,” Tiren said smoothly, “place a drop of your blood here.”

  I took the dagger and pinched my fingertip. Mynia’s panic went loud. “It’s poisoned, no…” she screamed. A bead of blood welled, bright and ordinary. I let it fall onto the collar’s central plate. The room sucked in breath.

  “Poisoned?” Tiren repeated, cold now. “Then it’s fortunate you’re here, my lord.”

  The collar clicked. The warding sigils flared faintly and then thinned. Mynia’s shoulders slumped; the visible tremor that had powered her tricks drained away. The collar’s weight felt physical against her throat. Her eyes sought mine, pleading; the magic that had bolstered her confidence was gone.

  “She’ll recover from the shock,” Tiren said, voice efficient. “The blockage takes a moment.”

  I leaned forward, elbows on my knees. “Two questions. One: Where is Aria right now? Two: Who hired you?”

  The collar made Mynia’s next breaths raspy. She struggled to find words, like someone trying to force air through a narrow opening. “Old… warehouse, South Dock… Red Building at the end of the pier,” she managed, each syllable labored. Vaktar and Tiren exchanged a quick, knowing look.

  “How long to fetch her?” I turned to Vaktar.

  “Three hours,” Vaktar said, measured. “Give us three hours to move.”

  The captain opened his mouth to argue. “An hour is…” and stopped when Allira’s voice cut across the room, tight and final: “Listen to him.”

  Everyone read the look on my face. Mynia shrank, her bravado burned away.

  “Three hours,” I repeated. “Or I go myself.”

  Vaktar inclined his head and guided Tiren away. As they departed, he muttered to the captain, ‘Better a dragon than his ire,’ and the captain’s mouth tightened. The hallway door closed with a soft click of ceremony.

  “Am I that terrifying?” I asked my wives.

  “David,” Marlena said, taking my hand, voice still unsteady. “You destroyed two high mages because they tried to take me. We don’t want to see you go further.”

  I leaned my forehead against hers. “I love you, Marlena.”

  “How about me?” Allira demanded, half-joking, half-jealous.

  “Yes,” I said, kissing her knuckles. “And Seraphina. I love all three of you.”

  I turned back to Mynia. Sweat gleamed on her lip; the collar’s magic kept her eyes from narrowing into plotting again. “Who paid you?” I asked.

  She swallowed, eyes huge. “Eleanor Devanthes,” she whispered so low the wind might have blasted it away through the eaves.

  A tidy, deadly name. I looked at Allyson standing silent, a blade of light at her hip. “Seraphina, what shall we do with her?”

  “Make a maid of her,” Seraphina said, practical and cool. “Start her in the scullery. Teach her humility.”

  “I don’t care,” Marlena said bluntly.

  “She tried to hurt David,” Allira said, steady and sharp. “It’ll be a long time before she earns trust again.”

  “Fine.” I nodded. “Allyson, strip her, dress her in one of the maid outfits, and put her to work in the kitchen. I don’t want to see her until after we return from heading north. There will be no second chances.”

  Allyson stepped forward and beckoned the former assassin. Mynia’s eyes flicked to me one last time, human and pleading, then slid away, hollow as a spent stage prop. She rose and followed the maids toward the kitchens.

  When the door closed behind them, the tension loosened like a bowstring cut. Seraphina leaned against the arm of my chair, eyes glinting with mischief.

  “You know, love, the way you ordered her into a maid’s outfit… almost like you wanted the view. Should I arrange a little costume game for you? Black lace, maybe ruffled skirts?”

  Marlena rolled her eyes but smirked. “Oh, I can just see it now… Our sweet David, commanding us to polish mithril while batting our lashes. Would that please you, husband?”

  Allira crossed her arms, lips quirking into a sly grin. “No, no, Marlena. He’d want us scrubbing the floors on our hands and knees, skirts barely covering our nakedness. That’s the sort of fantasy look in his eyes right now.”

  I kept silent, but a smile tugged at my lips before I could stop it. The view of their skirts barely covering the curve of their lovely rears.

  “Ah ha!” all three said at once, pointing straight at me. “He would like that!”

  I rubbed my face, trying to smother the grin, but they knew me too well.

  As I turned my thoughts back to the weight of decisions waiting on me, I still caught the sound of their quiet plotting behind my back.

  “There’s a shop on the east side,” Seraphina whispered to the others.

  “Yes, the one with the lace displays in the window,” Marlena agreed.

  Allira’s chuckle was low and wicked. “We’ll visit it. Tomorrow?.”

  I sighed, half amused, half resigned. In my mind’s eye, the image rose unbidden, three beautiful women in French maid outfits, all mine. What a sight to behold.

  When the kitchen door clicked shut, the room exhaled. The lamplight hummed. I watched the empty space Mynia had left and thought of a warehouse on the South Dock, and Eleanor Devanthes, whose whisper of a name suddenly made the room feel smaller. I am waiting for answers, and the one person I know who could answer them should be here in a few hours, if not sooner.

  It was an hour and a half later when a knock on the door stirred me awake. I blinked, finding the book I’d been reading now resting neatly on the coffee table, and a blanket tucked over me. One of the maids quietly opened the door.

  Vaktar entered with Captain Tiren close behind. Two guards followed, carrying a limp figure between them. Even from across the room, I knew it was Aria. Dirt smeared her skin, her once-fine robes were ragged, and a rough blanket hid the rest.

  “My lord,” Captain Tiren said, bowing. “It was more of an effort than we expected. But the rescue was successful.”

  Vaktar gestured, and the men lowered her carefully onto the other couch. He crouched beside her, gently parting the black matted hair at her neck. “We do have a problem,” he said gravely. “She bears a slave collar. We don’t know who holds the bond.”

  I was already moving. Kneeling beside her, I brushed more of her tangled hair away and saw the band. Ugly iron, script faintly etched along its edge. The slaver from before shifted uneasily nearby.

  “My lord, I’m sorry. That collar cannot be removed unless her master wills it. Without the registered blood, there’s…”

  I ignored him and pressed my fingers to the band. Tracing the script, I read the lines for myself. A simple mechanism, once you know where to look. The buckle gave way with a quiet click. I slipped it free and handed it to the slaver.

  “Thank you,” I said, though my eyes never left Aria. A red welt circled her throat, but her breathing eased now that the thing was gone.

  The slaver looked at me as if I’d grown horns. “How…?” I didn’t want to tell him that an engineer made this terrible device. Like any engineer, we always include a back door. You just need to know where to find it.

  “It’s written right on the side. You just have to know how to read it.” I brushed another strand of hair from Aria’s closed eyes. “Gentlemen, please bring her to one of the guest rooms.”

  The guards lifted her again, following Seraphina down the hall.

  “My lord,” Vaktar said, still watching me closely. “If you allow, I’ll fetch a healer for Miss Aria.”

  “Yes, Vaktar. A good idea.” I rose, turning to the captain and the slaver. “Do I owe you for this?”

  “No, my lord,” Tiren said with a shake of his head. “Vaktar already saw to it.” The slaver echoed the sentiment. Moments later, they departed, leaving me alone with my thoughts.

  The cushions dipped as Marlena dropped beside me. Her presence, warm and mischievous, tugged me back from grim reflection.

  “You know what you need?” she asked.

  I raised a brow. “You’ve got me. What?”

  “Sex. Lots of sex,” she said without hesitation, lips quirking into that teasing smile of hers. “This is my day with you, and in a few hours, we’re stuck in that boring meeting about heading north. Best cure for brooding is me.”

  “Is that your prescription?” I asked, sliding my hand along her exposed thigh. She’d made sure the robe slipped just enough to tempt me. Clever woman.

  “Yes,” she purred, standing and shrugging the mage’s robe from her shoulders. “Everyone else is occupied. Which means… I get to try that ‘cowgirl’ thing again.”