“Not every problem requires an abstract equation or tool to solve. Do not reach for your chisel when simply choosing a different stone will do.”—Excerpt from ‘To Build a Fortress’, a required reading at House Mornen

  Tower Castle, Cryptonia, Ground Plane

  The two men made their way back down the large staircase. The Main Hall had been rearranged for dinner. One of the long tables had been brought to the center of the hall and chairs assembled around it. Dwarven servers bustled about, carrying platters of food, drink, and utensils. They snapped to when Jasper stepped down onto the stone floor, much like they had in the kitchens, turning to face him expectantly.

  “Please, friends, do not let me come between you and your work,” he smiled encouragingly. “Your efforts do me and the castle honor.” They gave him a quick bow and went back to preparing the tables. Cook Harla strode in and gave orders, smiling briefly to the young lord before ushering her kinsmen back through the servant access doors. There were a handful of human staff left to serve, but they were largely superfluous since it was just Jasper and the vampire. They bowed and curtsied respectively as he entered.

  Calian led Jasper forward and the latter walked slowly, eyeing the set of the table. The thick oak rectangle had been positioned lengthwise, parallel with the long hall, with a white tablecloth. At the head was a single chair. It was a wide-grained wood that had been stained dark. The padded seat, back, and arms were made of green felt. A leg of ham had been basted and served on a thick board. Chicken wings and legs steamed on platters. Sweet fruits and berries he did not recognize were arranged in silver and brass bowls. He wondered momentarily at the similarities between some flora and fauna in his new world and the one he had left behind, questioning just how many differences there were, but the scent of the spread before him snatched his attention back. His stomach rumbled again.

  “This is what you call ‘simple fare’, Calian?” He whispered in amazement.

  “This is relatively common for humans, yes,” the steward chuckled. “Try a wide variety, ser. Remember what you enjoy so you can make requests.”

  “I certainly will!” Jasper laughed. Before picking up his fork and knife, he paused. “I already have a thought.” Calian’s eyebrows went up but he waited quietly. “The tables, to begin with,” said Jasper, nodding towards the one where he was currently seated. He leaned forward to use a long, serrated knife to slice off several cuts of ham and picked through the various pieces of fruit and vegetables.

  “What about them, Lord?” Calian looked confused.

  “I think a change in shape would be good,” Jasper grinned, an idea already forming in his mind. “I think round would be better.”

  “Really?” The steward clasped his hands behind his back and paced around the table as if measuring the space for a replacement. “May I ask why?” Jasper made a face.

  “I don’t like the idea of sitting at the head of the table,” he said. “Like the throne. It just isn’t who I am. Regarding the table itself, there was a king from my world who felt the same way. He believed that he, his knights, those that entered his court as visitors, all should see one another as equals.”

  “A practical solution to a complex problem,” Calian nodded appreciatively. “Do you have a style or design in mind?”

  “Hmm,” Jasper swallowed before continuing. “That is more difficult. I know that this Hall is a feasting hall, and honestly, I had considered having two different round tables. One in The Court, and one here.”

  “An interesting idea. We would not need to take the extra time to prepare for guests in either location, should the other be in use.” Jasper was certain the steward was mapping out the area in his head.

  “Correct. Both could be used by our own people as well as any citizens of our territory.” Jasper paused to sip some of the wine Calian had poured. It was a bit tart at first, but the aftertaste was quite pleasant. “I can’t bring myself to say ‘subjects’, Calian, no matter how apt the word may be. I will not govern this place with an iron fist.” The vampire came to a slow stop opposite his lord and smiled softly.

  “So you have said, Jasper.” His gentle tone brought up Jasper’s eyes, and the young man sighed.

  “I’m sorry—my first day, and I have been running us all ragged and talking your ears off with high and mighty ideals,” he set down his glass and braced his elbows on the table before him. The motion jostled the glass and liquid sloshed. In a puff of air, Calian was at his side, holding a handkerchief out to catch several drops of wine that had spilt over the rim. His deft hand caught them in midair before they could stain the pristine tablecloth.

  “You said, ‘to begin with’,” Calian said, folding his handkerchief and replacing it in his pocket. “What else was there?”

  “Ah, yes,” Jasper tapped the plate he ate from. “The fine silver- and gold-plated platters. How many such things are in the castle?”

  “I cannot say for sure at the moment, but I can—given a day,” the vampire grinned. “I suppose you would like to use them as repayment well?”

  “For as much as we are able,” Jasper nodded. “I imagine the materials themselves are expensive, but fine cutlery and crockery are more so, I would think.”

  “I will have them accounted for and recorded before next market day,” Calian said, already writing it down.

  “Wood and perhaps baked clay would serve me well enough,” Jasper said. “We can make them ourselves if need be. I imagine our dwarven carpenters and Master Idein are more than capable of doing that—I really must meet him.”

  “Agreed, Lord. Some may be offended at first,” Calian chuckled. “But once they understand you are repaying the accrued debt, I suspect they will volunteer to work overtime.”

  “I don’t expect them to work to the bone,” Jasper said, shaking his head. “And of course, whatever Cook Harla needs, she will have. I will not have our people shorthanded or working with subpar tools.” The steward’s pencil paused for a moment and Jasper looked up at him. “What? Did I say something wrong?”

  “Lord, if I may speak frankly?”

  “Of course,” Jasper snorted. “If I can’t have my closest advisors be honest with me, what kind of governor would I be?” Calian smiled again.

  “You may perhaps be the most ambitious Lord I have seen take up residence in the Tower.” Jasper opened his mouth to object, but Calian raised a manicured hand. Jasper could just see a smudge of charcoal where he gripped the writing utensil. “I mean this not as an insult, but praise. Your ambition is not the same as many of the men and women who came before. Not greedy or selfish, but you have a desire to protect and to rebuild. That makes you unique among your predecessors. Even Lady Lilian, may her soul be at peace, had to grow many years in this country to become the Lady of the Storm.”

  “Quite a title to live up to,” Jasper snorted, and Calian cracked a smile.

  “It was well-earned. As I expect yours shall be.”

  “You flatter me, Calian.”

  “I speak my mind, ser. I have become a supreme judge of character in my long years. And you, Lord Jasper McKenna, I find to be worthy—despite your inexperience as a leader.”

  “Oh, thanks for the vote of confidence.” Jasper flicked a tiny piece of chicken at him, but the steward snatched it from the air and ate it smoothly before he could blink.

  “One of the reasons I believe you will excel is because you lack experience in this way. Your unique ability to find solutions to problems we might never have imagined otherwise.” He gestured at the table before them. “A round table? Not in two thousand years has anyone suggested such a thing. Restricting meal preparations to ordinary foods has rarely been done, and usually only on occasion where it was required, but you,” he pointed at Jasper for emphasis. “You did so to reduce strain on the castle’s purse and then offered up your table to the entire staff! Ha!” Calian actually threw back his head and laughed aloud. “Did you know that is the one thing lords tend to hold out on the most? In less than a day, you have stunned me three times.”

  Taken from Royal Road, this narrative should be reported if found on Amazon.

  “What was the third?” Jasper looked up in confusion.

  “Not attempting to take advantage of Sue, disguised as Mistress Fernilla, the moment you realized what she was about,” the vampire said evenly. Jasper gaped at him.

  “I would never—”

  “I know. And now so does everyone else,” he smiled, brushing an imaginary mote of dust from his shoulder. “This is also one of the reasons why Harla intends to visit you tonight. She believes—as I now know—you would not force yourself on her and therefore she reasons it would be a worthy sacrifice. She will propose to settle your ‘uneven exchange’, as she calls it. I suggest you accept. A dwarven debt is no small matter.” Jasper sank back into his chair, jaw hanging open. His face was a mask of amazement.

  “How did you know—?”

  “I know everything that happens in this castle.” Calian grinned. Jasper rubbed his hands over his face tiredly and rested his head in his hands. Calian paused and made an ambiguous noise in the back of his throat. “I have also ordered my cousin not to act out like that again.” His tone left no doubt that he would not be lenient if she disobeyed. Jasper stopped mid-chew.

  “She’s your cousin?”

  “Not by blood, more by family genus,” Calian said, shrugging. “Sue is a created being. Shapeshifters are not naturally occurring creatures. Mad mages long ago meddled in things they did not understand and created a great many things that should never have seen the light of day.”

  “How absolutely terrifying,” Jasper said, deadpan. Of course, what else would he expect? Men and women on Earth regularly screwed around with things they did not understand. Images of Chernobyl flashed through his mind. “How do you control her?” Calian just grinned, his dark eyes glittering. “Right.” He kept chewing. He glanced at the wine glass.

  “Got anything stronger?” Again, Calian barked a short laugh, but shook his head.

  “I think not for tonight, Lord. You may require it in the morning, though. Dwarves can be…obstinate.”

  “Ohhhhhh god,” Jasper exhaled a long breath, dropping his head into his hands. “Any suggestions?”

  “Tell her what you want to achieve as Lord of the Tower,” Calian replied. “Dwarves may be strict adherents to their laws, but they can be understanding.”

  “Let us hope so. I do not want to spend my time bedding half of the castle when I give them a holiday.” Calian grinned and bowed.

  “If you are finished here, that is all, Lord. I have left you copies in your room of the information we spoke about today if you would like to look them over.”

  “When should I expect her?” Jasper looked quite nervous.

  “It will be at least an hour and a half. Dinner for all the staff and guardsmen will need to be finished—”

  “Add what is left here to their meals,” said Jasper. “Tell them I was most pleased and praise their work.” Calian bowed and smiled.

  “With pleasure. Goodnight, Lord Jasper.”

  The young man recalled the path up the tower to his room with little difficulty. Three trips were more than enough for him to have memorized the route now that he was paying attention. When he arrived, a hot bath had been drawn for him in a large wood tub. A note had been left for him on the perfectly folded towels placed on the table.

  “I will return to collect the tub. Dwarves are sticklers for cleanliness. Fernilla will be up soon to check your wound before bed.

  Calian”

  Jasper snorted and looked beside the towels, where there was a neat stack of parchments. Just as the steward had said there would be, there were hand-copies of the treasury books.

  “Ugh,” Jasper groaned. “Bath first. Stressful money problems later.” He quickly stripped and gingerly stepped into the tub. It was perfect, and Jasper let out a sigh of relaxation. He had only gotten halfway through using the lovely soap bar Calian had left to thoroughly wash himself when a knock came at the door, and he panicked. “Um. Y-yes?” He could have kicked himself for the quaver in his voice. He was relieved when Fern answered.

  “Lord Jasper? I am here to check your bandages.”

  “Aww hell,” he growled to himself in frustration. He looked around frantically for something to cover himself with. He snatched one of the smaller hand towels and covered his lap beneath the soapy water. “Come in.” She cracked the door enough for her to slip through, shutting it behind her. When she turned around to face him holding another bundle of supplies, he suddenly had a thought and held up a hand. She froze in place. “What,” he asked sternly. “Was my friend’s name? The one who I sparred with, back in my world?”

  “Ser Larry,” she smiled. “You struggled with him in the beginning, because he was left-handed, and you, right.” Jasper let out a sigh and beckoned her forward.

  “I’m sorry, Fern,” he said sheepishly. “After Sue’s surprise…”

  “I understand,” she smiled sweetly. “She can be quite intimidating. It is one of her most powerful assets. Unless one sees her take a new form, there are few ways to know whether they are in fact talking to the person they think is before them, or if it is our elusive spy.” Fern shrugged. “What really will shock you is coming face to face with your mirror image. Calian is the only one who did not call out at the sight,” she laughed as she unfolded her bundle and went to work unwrapping him once more.

  “If I may ask, why the name ‘Sue’? It seems like such a bland name for someone so unique.”

  “Ah, when we finally realized that an imposter had slipped in among us, Kel, one of the knights at the time, said it had ‘assumed’ his likeness. When she was learning to speak properly, ‘su’ seemed to be the only part she could pronounce correctly. So, the moniker stuck.”

  “I see,” Jasper said, sitting back and relaxing as she removed his wraps and began cleaning the wound. “How old is she?”

  “I am not entirely sure,” she admitted. “When Sue arrived, she had been living in the wilds for so long, surviving as best she could, we could never really get a certain answer. We had to teach her to speak, all those years ago. Poor thing only knew how to take the same shape of people, not communicate. She did not need it, so it never occurred to her.” Fern gently tilted his head towards the candlelight and made a contented noise. “This looks much better already.”

  “Good,” Jasper sighed. “Though, I am sorry to hear that about Sue. I got the uh, feeling that she was in desperate need the first time we met. May I ask what that was about, or would I be opening a chest full of spiders?” Fern laughed and shook her head. She applied more herbs and an ointment to his remaining cuts before answering his question.

  “It is how she feeds. Sue can lure her prey into a false sense of security and comfort before drawing their life force away. It sustains her and gives her power over her own body to shift and remake itself as needed.”

  “Now that is a terrifying concept,” Jasper shuddered, recalling what Calian had said before. “I’m only half-way decent with a sword. I can’t imagine merging different creatures in a lab until something happened.” He suddenly remembered he had not seen his prized reproduction in some time. “Um. Speaking of which, where is the blade I had when I came here?”

  “Titus kept it for you,” Fern said, rubbing a cloth through his scalp. “It is a beautiful thing. I saw it when they brought you into the infirmary.”

  “Yes, it is,” he said. “It has some sentimental value to me, and I’d like it back eventually.”

  “Of course, Jasper,” she nodded. “I expect though, once Mistress Wynifred meets with you and begins unlocking your magai, you will have less need for a blade.”

  “Is that what they call it here? Magai? And what do you mean ‘my’ magai?”

  “Mmm, that or just ‘magic’. But as to your magic,” Fern smiled. “Virtually all Lords and Ladies of the Tower have been blessed with abilities of some kind or other. When they arrive, most are unable to use them or are completely unaware of their latent powers, as you seem to be.”

  “There is no true magic where I am from,” Jasper shrugged. “Not like I have seen here.”

  “We are not sure where the talents come from or what determines the type an individual will receive, but they are always useful in one way or another. Mistress Wynifred will go over the possibilities and what exercises will be best to uncover your own personal magai.”

  “This is so much,” Jasper shook his head and rubbed his brows. “Are there any other fancy names for things that I need to know?”

  “Some of the more high and mighty types like to use the old words,” she rolled her eyes. “I will never understand people who discriminate against others purely based on race or bloodline.”

  “Me either,” Jasper shrugged again. “A person's actions are what matter, not where they came from or whose son or daughter you are.”

  “If only all thought as you do,” Fern smiled sadly. “There we are. You are clean and should be fit for duty.” She patted his shoulder after securing his bandages.

  “Thank you, Fern. I am sorry for putting you in this position.” She shook her head and straightened her skirts, smiling.

  “It is no bother at all, merely my duty. I’ll leave you to get cleaned up. Goodnight, Lord Jasper.” She curtsied and smiled before slipping through the door.

  Jasper rolled his eyes. All day the castle’s inhabitants had been tripping over themselves trying to accommodate his wish to just be ‘Jasper’, but clearly it was a difficult habit to overcome. He figured it would be easier for him to adjust than all of them, so he had decided to accept the title as humbly as he could. When the water grew cold, he stood and poured prepared buckets over himself to rinse off. He dried and got dressed in the nightclothes Calian had laid out for him. As if the thought of the vampire had summoned him (which Jasper did not discredit, all things considered) there he stood, collecting the used towels.

  “Did you enjoy the bath?” He asked cheerily. He rolled the wheeled tub over to a niche Jasper had not noticed and pulled a small lever. A metal panel in the floor retracted to reveal a drain, and Calian removed the simple plug to release the water. “Quite a contraption, isn’t it?”

  “That is something,” Jasper said, coming over to inspect the hidden mechanism. “I’ve never seen anything like it.”

  “More elven inventions,” Calian grinned. “There are similar simple machines like this in all the suites. I will show you their functions another time, Lord.” He bundled the used cloths into a burlap sack. “Harla will be up in half an hour or so. She needed to finish in the kitchens.” He gave a quick bow and departed.

  Again, Jasper was left alone, sitting at the table to sift through his thoughts and the documents his steward had left. The words and numbers washed over him, and he became engrossed in the information before him.