Chapter 103: Consequences

Chapter 103: Chapter 103: Consequences

The apartment was becoming crowded.

Valta occupied the corner. She didn’t sleep (she didn’t need to), so the corner was her permanent station. She spent the nights examining things: the water stain (which she’d mapped in detail, concluding it was "a cartographic representation of an undiscovered continent"), the window latch (which she’d accidentally pulled off the wall and then reattached using lightning as a welding tool), and the structural integrity of the ceiling (which she tested by pressing upward with one hand, cracking a beam, and then holding it in place for three hours while Pixia found glue).

"I HAVE DAMAGED THE INFRASTRUCTURE." She held the beam. "I APOLOGIZE."

"Stop testing the ceiling."

"I was curious about the load-bearing capacity."

"The load-bearing capacity is LESS than you."

"I have learned this." She held the beam. "Do you have glue?"

Fenra occupied the bed. As she always did.

Pixia occupied the windowsill. She’d been quieter since the Valta glitch. When I asked her about it, she deflected: "The system encountering something it can’t classify is a thing I’m still processing." She didn’t explain further. She kicked her legs and looked at things that weren’t there.

The apartment was a single room containing a man, a wolfkin, a fairy, and a seven-foot Franken who was currently holding a ceiling beam in place while a fairy applied adhesive. The four of us had developed a routine that involved navigating each other’s physical and psychological space without collision.

Valta’s routine: stand in corner, examine objects, occasionally break objects, repair objects using lightning, deliver commentary on everything at variable volume, pose whenever she caught her reflection in the window glass.

Fenra’s routine: sleep, walk me to the gate, wait, walk me home, eat, sleep.

Pixia’s routine: whisper corrections during my textbook study, comment on the day’s events, dim her glow when she was thinking about things she wouldn’t share.

My routine: academy, encounters, study, SP allocation, sleep. The machine ran. The machine produced SP. The SP became stats. The stats became capability.

◇◇◇

I decided to go to the guild with Pixia.

Valta remained at the apartment. She couldn’t walk through the merchant quarter without causing a scene. Her last excursion had resulted in three guards drawing weapons, a baker screaming, and a horse refusing to move for twenty minutes because its rider couldn’t get it to walk past a seven-foot woman crackling with electricity.

"I will remain here," Valta said. "I will examine the ceiling further. I have theories about Emperor Bootsworth’s continental geography that require confirmation."

"Don’t break anything."

"I make no promises. But I will attempt minimal structural damage."

◇◇◇

Bronze Ledger hall.

Processing quest credits from the mine expedition. Yenna at window three. Her tail wagged while she stamped forms. The +50% was making her bolder by the week.

"Your credit accumulation is impressive, Noel. Iron rank is two quests away." She slid the form back. "I’ve flagged some higher-tier postings for you."

"Anything interesting?"

"A Covenant Race residential dispute in the Patchwork. Iron Ledger level but they’re allowing advanced Copper applicants." She leaned forward. "I could walk you through the details. After my shift."

"I’ll check the board. Thanks, Yenna."

She held my gaze a beat too long. The +50% was rewriting her professional boundaries one interaction at a time.

I walked out of the guild hall and saw a strange woman.

She was wearing white-and-gold robes. Standing near the eastern entrance. She was watching who came and went.

I’d seen those robes before... At the academy. Orientation day. The woman who’d smiled at me across the courtyard. Pixia had said "Covenant of Purity. Walk away."

She was here at the guild now... A different location.

Maybe a random visit? It can’t be related to me right...?

As far as I knew I didn’t do anything that caused direct issues with them...

Was it the fucking scientist in the mines? Or maybe... Valta?

"..."

Nah. Probably nothing in relation to me.

Our eyes met. She smiled.

"..."

I immediately broke the eye contact.

Pixia spoke from my collar, she was very quiet: "That’s the same woman we met at the academy..."

"Well I don’t think she targets me specifically... how would she even know I’ll be at guild at such time?"

"She knows everything that’s in a file. Everything recorded by an institution. Your guild registration. Your quest history. Your academy enrollment. Your breeding contract completions." Pixia dimmed. "Walk normally. Don’t change your route."

I walked normally. Turned the corner. Checked behind me at the next intersection. She hadn’t followed. She just kept standing at the guild entrance.

"I told you..."

Pixia sighed. "Yeah... maybe it wasn’t you after all?... But if she did... She has your employment record at the Velvet Wall. She doesn’t know what you did there. But she knows you were there."

"Is that a problem?"

"The Velvet Wall serves mixed clientele. Human and Covenant Race. If she can prove you serviced a monster girl client through the wall, that’s an [Aselgeia] charge. She doesn’t need to see through the partition. She just needs to prove that Covenant Race women were among the clients during your shift."

"Can she prove that?"

"The Velvet Wall’s client records are sealed under commercial privacy law. The Covenant can petition to unseal them, but the petition requires probable cause..."

◇◇◇

Home. Apartment door.

Helena was waiting outside.

She was dressed well. The sapphire pendant at her throat. She’d been... crying? Not currently. Recently. Her eyes were red at the edges, covered by makeup that wasn’t quite succeeding.

"You haven’t responded to my messages."

"I’ve been busy."

"You’ve been busy for three weeks." She touched the pendant. "I’ve sent twelve messages. You’ve responded to two. Both were one sentence."

"Helena..."

"Don’t ’Helena’ me like I’m a child." She stepped closer. The pendant caught the hallway light. "I gave you twenty-five gold. I gave you a night. I gave you my father’s recommendation. I gave you EVERYTHING I had to offer and you’ve been BUSY."

"..."

◇◇◇

I opened the door. Let her inside. Valta was in the corner examining the water stain on the ceiling with intense focus. She’d been studying it for three days. She’d concluded that Emperor Bootsworth (Tink’s name for the stain) was "a masterwork of accidental artistry." Fenra was on the bed, her ears went flat at Helena’s scent entering the room.

Helena looked at Valta.

"Who is THAT?"

"Valta. She followed me home from a quest."

"She’s... big."

"Yes."

"She has STITCHING."

"She’s a Franken."

Helena processed this. Her eyes moved from Valta to Fenra to the apartment to me. She was cataloging the environment, measuring it against the estate she’d grown up in, and the measurement was producing numbers she didn’t like.

"This is where you live."

"This is where I live."

"This is BENEATH you." She touched the pendant. "You should be at the estate. With me. With Father. In a proper room with proper furniture and proper..."

"Helena."

"Don’t interrupt me. I’m making a point."

"Your point involves my furniture."

"My point involves your CHOICES." She stepped around Valta, who was watching the conversation with the focus of someone observing a species interaction she’d never seen. "Three weeks. I’ve waited three weeks. I’ve sent letters. I’ve sent invitations. I sent a bottle of Ashenmere reserve through a courier and you sent the COURIER BACK with a note that said ’thank you, busy this week.’"

"I was busy."

"EVERYONE is busy. Busy is not an excuse. Busy is a decision about what matters. You chose to be busy with..." She looked around the apartment. "All the sluts at the academy. I’ve heard about it... All the rumors..."

Valta raised a hand. "I AM VALTA. I AM LIGHTNING. I AM RELEVANT TO THE CURRENT CONVERSATION BECAUSE I CONSUME APPROXIMATELY FOUR LOAVES OF BREAD PER DAY AND THIS CREATES A FINANCIAL BURDEN THAT CONTRIBUTES TO THE OWNER’S DESCRIBED ’BUSYNESS.’" She adjusted volume. "I am working on the volume."

Helena stared at Valta. Then at me.

"Why do you... live like this?"

"Come on. From all the bad choices I’ve made Valta isn’t one. She doesn’t even need to eat."

"The EXPERIENCE," Valta confirmed. "Food is an experience. I have been conscious for twelve days. Every experience is my first experience. Including this argument. This is my first argument. It is VERY LOUD for something conducted at normal human volume."

Helena touched the pendant. Pressed it hard against her collarbone. The gesture she made when she was fighting to stay composed.

"Noel. I am going to say something and I need you to listen."

"I’m listening."

"I’m not asking you to love me."

She stopped. Her hand stayed on the pendant. Her eyes stayed on mine.

"I’m not asking you to love me." She said it with the precision of someone who’d rehearsed the words and was delivering them before the rehearsal’s courage expired. "I’m asking you to ACKNOWLEDGE me. Return a message. Visit the estate. Have dinner with Father. Show me that I exist in your life as something other than a random girl you fucked for money."

She was right. She wasn’t just a woman I fucked for gold. She was a woman I also fucked for political connection. The Baron’s recommendation was still active. The estate library was still available. House Vellmont’s cover was still protecting my academy enrollment. She was infrastructure as much as she was a person, and I’d been neglecting both.

To be honest my relationship with the Baron grew colder with the rumors about my... adventures.

But I’ll try my best.

"I’ll come to dinner. This week."

"Promise?"

"Promise."

She touched the pendant one final time. "Thursday. 7 PM." She looked at Fenra. Fenra looked back. Helena sighed then said. "I’ll tell Father."

She left immediately after this.

The pendant caught the light as she turned. Blue fire in a sapphire held against a collarbone that had been touched by two fingers ten thousand times. The light followed her into the hallway and disappeared when she descended the stairs.

The door closed.

◇◇◇

The apartment smelled like her perfume. Fenra’s ears were flat.

Valta said, breaking the atmosphere from the corner: "THAT WAS MY FIRST ARGUMENT." She adjusted volume. "That was my first argument. Did I win?"

"..."

Pixia chuckled. "Two may be women tracking you now~"

I sighed then sat on the bed. Fenra pressed against the far wall. Valta examined the door Helena had walked through.

"She touched the blue stone seven times during the conversation," Valta observed. "Is that significant?"

"It’s her usual habit."

"What is a habit?"

"The thing you do repeatedly knowingly or unknowingly."

Valta considered this. She looked at her own hands. Large. Stitched. Sparking faintly. "I do not have a blue stone. Is that a habit too?"

"What... No..."

"I HAVE A HABIT." She adjusted. "I have a habit."