“The only thing more difficult than juggling three different mistresses and a wife is ruling a region.” —Emperor Caerum, to his eldest son upon his confirmation as heir to the Empire

  Tower Castle, Cryptonia, Ground Plane

  Jasper encountered almost no one during his long walk. A servant here or there on business for Calian or Cook Harla would brush past with a respectful bow, but nothing else of note. He smiled politely at them, and they seemed slightly uneasy. Not afraid, but more surprised than anything. Eventually, he ended up pushing open a double planked wooden door to the outside, emerging on a battlement overlooking the eastern side of the castle. This gave him his first open-air view of the landscape. It was midday; the sun was high and streaming through a light layer of clouds. Far ahead and below him was the Greenwood, the forest stretching almost as far as he could see.

  To the south on his right, stretched out in the hilly valley below, was The Vill. He could see the stone, plaster, and wood buildings. Many near the outskirts had thatched roofs, but there were plenty of terracotta style clay slates as well. Smoke curled from a dozen different chimneys, including several great palls from what he assumed were forges or smelts. He braced his elbows against the stone and hugged his sides against the wind whipping through the battlements.

  “It is a beautiful sight,” said a familiar woman’s voice beside him.

  “Good god!” He jumped, clutching his chest in surprise. He turned to see Fern standing nearby, having apparently appeared from nowhere.

  “My apologies, Lord,” she said, hiding a smile. “I am used to not being noticed.” She moved closer to him as he turned and caused Jasper to step back uneasily. There was a look in her eyes he did not like, and she was not behaving normally. He bumped against the parapet and realized the hungry-looking elf had pinned him between the stones. His head felt fuzzy, and he could not keep his train of thought. All he could think about was how beautiful she looked. She stepped even further into his personal space, darting her head forward to kiss him intently on the lips. Jasper’s eyes widened in surprise, and he finally tore his mouth away, panting.

  “Whoa now!” He jerked back and stared at Fern in amazement. “What are you doing?”

  “Just helping you relax, Lord,” Fern grinned, licking her lips. She pressed into him like a cat, her nose inches from his own. He was saved by the sound of the nearby door opening. The quiet hinges caused Jasper to look up again to see another Fern, who looked quite surprised and slightly furious.

  “Sun, Moon, and Stars!” The new Fern thundered. Her face had turned stormy, and he genuinely did not know if she intended to come after him. “Sue, you know better!”

  “He just looked so sad,” the girl mewled. She pushed off the wall and her form shimmered before him. When her form resolved, she was built similarly to Fern, but the woman bore no facial features save her nose and mouth. No eyes, no brows, no laugh lines or sign of age. Simply smooth as an unpainted doll. She was clad in a simple white peasant dress that had pleats all the way around the skirt. The voice that issued from the creature was an eerie copy of the elf’s. “And sooooo lonely.”

  “Leave.” Fern said sternly. “Now.”

  “Hmph, fine,” Sue whined, playing with her dress absentmindedly. She virtually skipped down the walk, pausing to blow Jasper a kiss. “See you later, handsome.” Sue disappeared through a door. Fern was angrier than Jasper had ever seen her. She turned back to him again, straightening her skirts.

  “I am sorry, Lord,” she apologized. “Sue knows better than to ambush newcomers, but she’s just…” Fern made a face as if she were looking for the right word and had several choice ones in mind but finally settled on “Incorrigible.”

  “Uh. Okay.” He did not know what else to say. “I definitely gathered that part,” he panted, still winded from the creature’s assault. He put a hand on his chest and felt his heartbeat thumping. “What did she do to me? What is she?”

  “Sue is a shapeshifter,” Fern sighed with embarrassment and frustration. “Unfortunately, this means she is one of the best sources of outside information we have. She can go places we cannot see with magical means and is quite useful.” He momentarily wondered if she was a shifter as well. How could he tell? He would have to address it later.

  “And the um. Overly amorous attitude?”

  “Her control over the ability to change her body allows her to excrete hormones to affect others. Thus, making her a perfect seductress and manipulator.”

  “I’ll say,” Jasper snorted, running his hands through his hair in exasperation.

  “Are you well?” Fern’s genuine concern showed in her knit brows.

  “Yes, I think so,” he sighed. “My mind is just a little befuddled is all.”

  “The open air will help. Come, let us walk to clear our lungs and tempers.” She smiled easily, her earlier anger nowhere to be seen.

  “That sounds good,” he said, trying to slow his heart from its thundering pell-mell pace back to a normal rhythm.

  “What do you think of the country?” she asked after a few minutes of walking. He turned back to the land before them.

  “It is amazing. I’ve never seen anything so green and alive in my life—not even Ireland.” Fern made a face.

  “What is Ireland, Lord?”

  “Oh! Of course,” he chuckled. “Ireland is a country in my world. An island. Beautiful and green, like this. But it is not as thick there.” He indicated the dense trees. “There is some forest, but not like this. The majority of their greenery is shrubs, bushes, short curly trees. Not tall hardwood. And the mountains are just everywhere. It is much flatter here—at least what I have seen.”

  “There are a great deal of hills and mountains to the north, where I am from, the western orc lands, and the Middle Mounts to the south,” she said, pointing. “I am sure Titus will wish to take you on the Lord’s Ride to visit the forts and some of our nearby foreign allies.”

  “I’d be honored,” Jasper smiled, excited by the idea. “I have to ask, it’s been bothering me for a bit now,” Jasper chuckled. “If you are a stone elf…”

  “Why am I named for a shrubbery?” She smiled easily when he nodded. “As I mentioned before, I am of the mountains, but I am also of the forest. My father—may his soul rest—was native to the forest of Arhouir far to the south, over the Middle Mounts.” Jasper nodded in understanding.

  “I see.”

  “When I was born, he decided that my growing up in the north would be better than returning south at such a young age, so I stayed with my mother.”

  “He left you there?” Jasper looked aghast at his new friend, having a hard time imagining a father letting go of his child so callously.

  “He did visit over the years. Remember, my kind do not age in the same way yours do,” she said softly.

  “Ah. Right.” Jasper said sheepishly. “I hope I haven’t brought up any bad memories.”

  “Not at all. I am at peace with my past. And after all, there is nothing to be done that can change what has happened—only what we will do in the future.” Jasper blew out a long sigh and leaned against the parapet. He felt a spike of jealousy over Fern’s sense of peace.

  “I wish I had such a perpetually positive outlook, Miss Fern.”

  “Having weathered numerous storms and come out the other side better for it will lighten your shoulders and heart,” she said wisely. She cocked her head, bright eyes studying him. “You have a weight about you, my Lord.” Jasper straightened reflexively.

  “An old wound, you could say.” He forced a smile. “One I’m worried will not heal.”

  “Not all wounds and injuries are physical,” she nodded. There was a long pause and, sensing his discomfort, she decided to change the subject. “That is actually one of the reasons I sought you out, Lord,” she said, blushing a bit. “More close to home, but foreign to you.”

  “Oh?” He cocked his head.

  “I heard that you met Cook Harla earlier,” she said, gesturing towards the kitchens below. “And about your decision to share the celebration with all of us.”

  “I hope that was not wrong,” said Jasper. His face scrunched up with worry. Fern shook her head, smiling.

  “Not at all. It was well done, and we all appreciate it very much indeed.” She laughed shyly at the last and tucked a strand of escaped red hair back into her headband. Jasper opened the heavy door leading back inside and waved her in front, getting them out of the wind. Once it was latched securely behind them, he nodded to her.

  “Do go on.”

  “Dwarven culture and my own peoples’ differ, but are similar in some ways,” she said. “Though I myself do not hold to all such beliefs.”

  “Please, Fern, I am dying of suspense,” Jasper laughed.

  This story has been stolen from Royal Road. If you read it on Amazon, please report it

  “Well, Harla will likely visit your bedchamber this evening,” she said, turning red again. “It is our peoples’ shared custom that debts be repaid in equal measure.”

  “Um.” Jasper’s brain worked hard to comprehend this new idea. “Alright. But what debt?”

  “The dwarves believe they owe you greatly for your generosity in participating in the celebration. So, Harla has taken it on herself to repay you on all of their behalf in the only way she can at the moment. The dwarven staff have been foregoing wages for some time now to help the castle maintain some semblance of financial stability.”

  “Oh. Oh. Ohhhhh no,” Jasper tried to stifle a laugh. Fern gave him an odd look. “No, please you misunderstand, I am just…I don’t know what else to say. I cannot accept.”

  “Well,” she laughed uncomfortably. “It would be rude to refuse. To dwarves, and many of my own people, refusing a repayment such as this would be equivalent to saying that they cannot repay it to your satisfaction.”

  It took several moments for the ramifications of the decision Jasper had made to sink in. To deny Harla’s request would undoubtedly cause problems between him and the dwarves. But to accept, and take his own cook into his bed? The idea was unthinkable. But to create problems within the castle would be another challenge. The strangeness of the situation lingered in his mind.

  “I suppose there is no real choice if I’m going to maintain balance in the castle,” Jasper snorted, rubbing both hands over his face. “Bedding the cook was definitely not what I expected to be on the schedule for today.”

  “Harla will do all in her power to satisfy you,” Fern said. “She will put aside all shame and decorum to accomplish this.” She gave him a look he could not fully grasp. “I tell you this because I wish for you to understand the extent to which she will debase herself.”

  “I will not use her like that,” Jasper said, recoiling slightly. “I don’t know how Lerontis or any of the others did things, but that will not be the way of my castle.” He only realized just how forcefully he had said the words when he looked back at Fern’s face. She had paled and her lips trembled slightly. He stepped forward slowly and put a gentle hand on her shoulder. “I’m sorry, Fern, I didn't mean to frighten you—quite the opposite.”

  “I-I did not think you would, Lord,” she said. “And neither do the others that have met you, I think. It is just—”

  “A lot,” Jasper said, nodding. “I know. We will handle it, somehow.”

  “Yes, ser,” she managed a smile, but looked at her hands again. “So, shall I tell Harla you will see her tonight?”

  “I will,” he nodded. “But I’d like to talk to her about coming to another solution to this kind of thing in the future. I don’t want to have to bed the staff every time I give them a holiday.” She laughed at that.

  “I agree, that would be wise,” Fern nodded. She straightened her skirts and smiled to herself. “I believe you will discover a solution, and that is the truth.”

  “Thank you, Fern,” Jasper replied, looking back the way he had come, then the two other directions available to him. “Ah, I’m afraid I don’t have the faintest idea which direction to go to get back to the Main Hall.” They shared a good laugh, and Fern had to cover her mouth to stop herself, then finally pointed to the correct passage.

  “This way, Lord Jasper,” she said, still chuckling. She led the way and he followed.

  “Please, I have yet to truly earn that title,” he said. “If it is just us, or Titus and Calian, ‘Jasper’ is fine.”

  “Very well,” she smiled. “Jasper.” The way she said his name sent a strange feeling up his spine and made his ears burn. He was thankful for the fact that Fern was in the lead and for the shadows of the hallway.

  They returned to the Main Hall where Calian and Titus met the pair of them. Fern curtsied and said that she had duties elsewhere. The steward wanted Jasper to have a look at the castle treasury books, and Titus needed another word about the defenses and the militia.

  “And then there are the forts to think about,” lamented the knight. “They’re barely in a better state than our armsmen.”

  “Let me study Calian’s books, and we’ll see what is available for us to put toward proper training and equipment. I will find you after we’ve finished.”

  “Very good, ser,” Titus nodded. He gave a quick bow and headed off through the front doors and out to the courtyard. Calian led the way up a wide side stair to several offices. The floor was not stone, but finely cut and stained planking. It seemed like oak, but the grain was different from any Jasper had ever seen. The handrail of the stairs matched, but the spindles were hand-carved with more foreign script and symbols. When he looked closer, Jasper saw that the wood of the rail and steps seemed to have melted into or emerged from the stone underneath. He shook his head in astonishment. Similarly, at either end on both sides were two small lamp posts that looked as if they had grown from the handrails. Soft golden light shone from the flowery lamps.

  “More dwarven woodwork?” Jasper asked, patting the rail.

  “This was a more recent addition,” Calian nodded with a smile. “Idein, our elven stone master craftsman and a few of his dwarven specialists incorporated it into the stone of the castle. I have never seen such a fine melding of rock and wood.”

  “I didn't even know such a thing was possible,” Jasper said in amazement. Once they reached the second-floor landing, he realized they were not far from the map room. Calian’s bookkeeping office was a dark place with lots of red velvet and black furniture. There were intricately carved stained-black wooden bookcases full of enormous books which Jasper surmised to contain records of previous decades. Calian ushered him in to sit at the large desk matched to the bookcases while the steward stepped over to the oil lamps positioned on both ends of the desk. The vampire brought his hand close and with a snap of his fingers, a spark struck and the wicks caught light to give the room a warm glow. It impressed Jasper. The immortal was so fast that he could generate such friction to start fire with his bare hands.

  In between the lamps, there was an open book identical to the ones on the shelves. It rested on a swiveling book stand which Calian turned so Jasper could see it. The calendar—according to what he had read in the historical volumes and matched in the vampire’s bookkeeping—was counted in moons instead of months. Instead of ‘January, February, March’, it was denoted as ‘First Moon, Second Moon, Third Moon’. The counting of days was similarly simple, and made for quite easy reading, with each year amounting to three hundred and fifty days, and every month being thirty days. There were columns and rows denoting what money had been spent in red. Income gained during the given period was marked in green and the sum of what was left in black.

  There was a great deal more red ink than green.

  “Good grief, it really is bad, isn’t it?”

  “I’m afraid so,” nodded Calian sadly. Jasper flipped back several pages to see just how long the financial crisis had been going downhill. It had been building up for quite some time.

  “How the hell have you managed to keep the place afloat?”

  “A significant number of those who live on Tower grounds and within the castle itself have given up wages,” he said, and Jasper nodded, making a face.

  “Fern mentioned that.”

  “Yes, and to my everlasting shame, a number of our staff have been forced to leave.” Calian’s head dropped and to Jasper’s amazement, the vampire looked bleary-eyed. “The Tower was always meant to be a place of refuge, protection, comfort, but these last hundred years,” he shrugged, and the human could see the weight Calian carried. He reached out and put a hand on Calian’s shoulder.

  “We will fix this,” Jasper said evenly. “I do not know how—yet—but we will. I do not know the details of how debt, legality, or trade in this world work. But I know there is commerce, which means there are loans that can be paid off, and work done for pay. That will start us in the right direction.”

  “Agreed, Lord Jasper.” The steward nodded and resolve returned to his posture.

  “Good. Show me where we owe the greatest debt, and what resources we have. I am not well-versed with money management, but I know how to work with people to achieve goals beneficial for everyone involved.”

  He and Calian studied the book and notes the steward had taken over the years for some hours. Jasper took his own notes, frequently using diagrams to illustrate which groups, guilds, or businesses were owed and their amounts. The monetary denominations were not entirely different from those used in stories Jasper had read on Earth—a fact for which he was eternally grateful. A Gold Oak was equal to one hundred Silver Pines, one Pine was equal to fifty Copper Acorns, and an Acorn equal to ten Bronze Leaves.

  1 Gold Oak = 100 Silver Pines

  1 Silver Pine = 50 Copper Acorns

  1 Copper Acorn = 10 Bronze Leaves

  Finally, Jasper had a decent idea of what needed to be done to achieve some semblance of equilibrium in the books. The practical work of initiating and carrying out any sort of plan to achieve the desired result would be significantly more difficult, but not impossible.

  “Based on what you’ve told me, the majority of our debt is held by the Banking Guild,” Jasper said, sitting back in his chair and stretching his hand. His knuckles popped audibly. It had been some time since he had written so much by hand. “That makes sense considering how much gold Lerontis just continued to borrow even after taking on the previous Lords’ financial obligations.”

  “Aye, Lord. He seemed to believe that ‘borrowing’ was just like a trade between friends, and there was no serious recourse if the money was not repaid.” Calian sighed and shrugged. “He seemed to lack all understanding of the word ‘interest’ as well.” Jasper sat for a minute, massaging his writing hand and thinking.

  “We owe the Bank something upwards of 500,000 Oaks in gold, yes?

  “Yes, that’s roughly correct.”

  “Hmm,” Jasper scratched his beard, looking over the figureshe had written down. He groaned. “I don’t suppose there was much of a plan to repay that amount?”

  “I attempted to maintain good records of our spending and loans, Lord, but…” Calian shrugged again. “Hardly any money was ever sent back to the Bank. I sent numerous letters attempting to explain the situation to them, and I believe they eventually realized that Leontis did not intend to repay.”

  “Which is why all loans stopped as of—” Jasper looked at his notes. “—six moons ago.” He rubbed his temples in frustration. “Brilliant. I’m opening a new credit card when I’m already 500,000 in the hole.”

  “Erm. Ser?” Calian looked completely lost.

  “Uh, right,” Jasper chuckled. “It’s just something from my world. Like trying to open a new line of credit while already owing a significant amount to the bank I am trying to borrow from.”

  “Insane,” said Calian, shaking his head in confusion. “The bank would never lend to someone so—” He stopped. “Ah. I see.”

  “Right. They’d never even think to let us borrow from them again without serious return.” He drummed his fingers on the table. After a moment a thought came to him. “The chair.”

  “Lord?”

  “The chair—the throne from the Audience Hall,” Jasper said, his voice rising in excitement. “How much was his throne worth? Would Idien be able to break it down, or would it be worth more whole?”

  “Ah, yes!” Calian flipped faster than Jasper could follow through his own small notebook—which had again appeared from nowhere—until he found the correct page. “Here it is. The total cost of the throne as a whole was seven hundred and twelve Oaks, thirty-five Pines, and six Acorns.”

  “Hmm, not bad, but that’s still just a drop in the bucket,” Jasper muttered. He ran a finger down the ledger. “How about the parts themselves?”

  “The components were worth less individually—unfortunately the unique design of the chair and the time required to completely dismantle it would cost more than to sell the piece as it is.”

  “I see. Hmm.” Jasper thought for a moment and a grin spread across his face. “How happy do you think the Banking Guild would be to receive an invitation from us to the celebration and then the chair itself as a down payment at the upcoming celebration?”

  “As an act of good faith?” Calian asked. The human nodded, making him smile. “I imagine they would be quite pleased. Both by the cash return and the symbolism itself. Showing an intent to follow through where your predecessor failed would bode very well with many.”

  “Understandable,” Jasper said with a shrug. “Bankers love to make money.”

  “They like certain returns on investment even more,” Calian said, finger raised. “Your first move being a repayment is a wise decision, as well as choosing to not live such a rich lifestyle.”

  “I’ve always been a simple man trying to make his way in the universe,” Jasper chuckled, paraphrasing one of his favorite sci-fi mercenaries. “I don’t need a lot of fine food and clothes to get by.”

  “Something both myself and Cook Harla are grateful for,” Calian replied, laughing as well. His mention of the dwarf made Jasper’s stomach growl and wonder what time it was. He put a hand on his belly, and Calian stood, pocketing his notebook.

  “That is the bell for dinner,” the vampire grinned. “If you will follow me back to the Main Hall, we can prepare for evening meal.”

  “That sounds wonderful,” Jasper smiled, pushing himself up from the fine chair. His head throbbed momentarily, but he noticed the pain was not nearly as intense as it had been in the last day. There really was something to Fern’s healing process.