A knock falls upon the door.

  “Come in,” I call and it opens to reveal Sarran.

  “Are you ready, my lord?” he asks politely.

  “Sarran, you can call me ‘Markus’ can’t you?” I ask exasperatedly in lieu of giving him a response. Every person I’ve spoken to today apart from my Bound and Nicholas has been saying ‘my lord’ this and ‘my lord’ that. Apart from the house slaves who, even worse, have been using ‘master’. Even Loran is struggling not to call me by ‘sir’, but at least he doesn’t keep slip into saying ‘master’ as River used to at the beginning of our acquaintance.

  But none of the house staff seems to be willing to call me by anything more familiar – I’ve given up asking since it invariably makes them uncomfortable. But hearing it all the time makes me feel uncomfortable and far from home. Even the samurans were beginning to relax with me before I came here. “You were here when I arrived; you held me at swordpoint, for goodness’ sake.”

  The manservant looks at me warily.

  “I apologise for doing so.”

  “No need,” I reply, waving it off. “I completely understand why you did and think that you reacted in the way you should have. My point is that you’ve known me since before I became the ‘heir’. So can’t you just call me by my name?” My voice is more plaintive than I’d like but if it gets me what I want then I won’t be able to regret it.

  Sarran eyes me thoughtfully, then dips his head after a short pause.

  “Very well. I will show you proper respect in public – to do any less would degrade your status and I refuse to do that, if only for the sake of the House. But, as with Nicholas, if you would prefer that I use your given name in private, I will do so.” I don’t think that it’s a slip that he used ‘Nicholas’ instead of ‘Lord Nicholas’ there, nor that it’s my imagination that he sounds a little warmer.

  “Alright, good.”

  “In which case, are you ready to go, Markus?” Sarran asks, and relief loosens a knot that I hadn’t realised had been drawing tighter. Maybe some people would get off on all the ‘respect’ people are giving me due to my status, but I can’t help but feel it’s undeserved – what have I personally done for them? Nothing – it’s just because Nicholas chose me as his heir. Worse, it’s isolating. If I didn’t have my Bound here, I wouldn’t have anyone to talk to normally at all. But my Bound aren’t human, and now I’m among other humans, I feel that difference keenly. I might still feel a bit guilty about Binding Loran, but I’ve found myself revelling in our interactions even so, especially as he’s started to relax.

  “Yes, just about,” I answer Sarran’s question, a little belatedly. “What do you think?” I ask, holding up the robe, tunic, and trousers set that I’ve just finished.

  The manservant eyes the clothes speculatively, stepping forwards and reaching to feel the fabric. He shifts the cloth, looking at it from all angles.

  “Excellent embroidery, though rather similar to that which usually decorates Nicholas’ clothes.”

  “I was copying it,” I admit, nodding at the example that one of the servants delivered. Another brought more materials to use – gold and small gems which I’ve incorporated. Then I realised that I’d run out of blue dye and that prompted a multi-servant exchange to determine which of the dyes in storage I’d be able to use. And, of course, we started getting peckish after a few hours, so I sent for food. It’s been a busy afternoon.

  “It should suffice until you can see a proper tailor. There are none of the usual enchantments imbued in the fabric,” Sarran observes neutrally.

  “Because I don’t know them,” I admit, trying not to feel ashamed about that. Now I’m interacting with him alone in a more relaxed setting, I realise that he’s actually surprisingly intimidating. He has a…presence to him. A feeling of controlled and deliberate power. Quite different from Nicholas who, while calculating at times, feels a lot more friendly. Though maybe that’s only because he was desperate to get me on his side.

  “Understandable,” Sarran hums, then steps away. “If you are concerned about your appearance, I would say that you do not need to be. The robes are of a sufficient quality to not make you stick out from your peers. However, you will have to beware of stains or damage – any such would immediately differentiate you from the others, and not in a good way.”

  “That will be fine – I can just Shape the stains or tears away,” I dismiss, though make a mental note to keep an eye to make sure I haven’t just missed something. “Are you here to lead me to wherever we need to go?”

  “I am,” the manservant affirms. “Do you need any aid in packing?”

  The story has been illicitly taken; should you find it on Amazon, report the infringement.

  “No, it’s fine, thanks,” I deny, waving away his aid and quickly shoving the clothes I was working on into my Inventory with the other sets – and the shoes I made too. I look at Loran.

  “Will you make sure that the clothes and shoes I borrowed as examples make their way back to the right place?” I request of him.

  “Of course, sir,” my Bound acknowledges, sending a lightning-fast look at Sarran and then dipping his head submissively. I keep my sigh inside. Another world, I remind myself. Other expectations.

  I check around the room to make sure I’m not missing anything, and then say a goodbye to everyone who’s not coming with me. I probably take longer than I should in stroking them – particularly Kalanthia who feels surprisingly reluctant to see me go – but if Sarran is feeling impatient, he doesn’t reveal any indication of it in his expression.

  “Be good,” I tell them finally, pushing extra firmness into my voice to try to pretend to them that I’m not just as reluctant to separate so soon into our stay in this new world as they are. “And listen to Loran.” At least all the messing around this afternoon meant that I was able to speak to both the steward and the housekeeper and make it clear to them that Loran’s words, when they pertain to the pack, should be interpreted as coming from me. The steward, a man with a collar around his own neck, took the instruction with good grace. The housekeeper wasn’t so happy, sniffing loudly and eyeing Loran with suspicion to show her objections, but verbally accepting it. Hopefully she won’t cause him any trouble.

  Sarran directs us through the corridors, showing his experience with directing those of a ‘higher rank’ as he stays a step behind me, but manages to lead the way nonetheless. Sirocco sits on my shoulder, but the rest trail behind us. We head to a room I haven’t visited before – there are probably more rooms I haven’t visited than those I have.

  It’s about the same size as my bedroom, but utterly empty of any furniture. Instead, in the middle there’s a shallow pool of water that fills about half the space in the room. The pool is connected by a channel to an odd-looking construction to the side of the room. It almost looks like a fancy basin made of marble which might be found in a bathroom, but it doesn't have any taps. There is also a pile of Cores on a sort of ‘shelf’ underneath the basin – from the size of them, they have to be Tier three Cores with perhaps a few more powerful Tier twos among them.

  Nicholas is already present, looking impatient. Behind him are three of the guards – I don’t recognise them.

  “Finally,” he huffs when I enter the room. “I sent Sarran for you almost a quarter mark ago.”

  “Sorry,” I apologise. “I needed to say goodbye to everyone not coming with me.” Nicholas eyes the five Bound accompanying me with a calculating look.

  “I’ll need to add another Core, I think,” he murmurs as if to himself, then sighs. “Well, you’re here now. Let’s see whether we can portal in yet.” He strides over to the construction and pulls another Tier three Core out of his Inventory. Unless Tier three Cores are easier to get hold of here than on my previous world, I can see why Nicholas was complaining about portals being expensive.

  The lord holds the basin on either side and leans over it. From my perspective, I can’t see exactly what he’s doing.

  “He’s setting the destination for the portal,” Sarran’s voice murmurs in my ear. I turn my head to see that he’s leant in a little closer.

  “How’s he doing that?” I inquire, eager to know if he’s willing to tell me.

  “He has to send his magic and intention into the chalice. It will send a signal to the chalice at our destination and will verify that there is no open portal already connected. Then, he will be able to direct the chalice to open the portal for us.”

  “Chalice?” I ask, confused. “What chalice?” Sarran indicates the stone that Nicholas is gripping. “But that looks like a basin of sorts,” I object, still unsure whether maybe I’m just looking at the wrong thing. Sarran shrugs, lifting his hand to the level of his shoulder and then dropping it.

  “I believe that the term comes from the fact that it used to be chalices which were used for scrying. The original portal devices apparently also used chalices instead of basins, as do the portable versions. But permanent portals tend to use basins now because it’s easier to control them and they’re clearer than chalices. But we still call them chalices.”

  “Huh.” I eye the water in front of us. “So we need to walk through that?”

  “Once the portal is open, yes. Don’t worry – it won’t actually be wet. The water…transmutes into something different.”

  “Why water?” I ask, not really expecting an answer to that one. It’s more of a rhetorical question. Which is why I’m surprised when Sarran actually does respond.

  “I’ve read that it is because water is a liminal space, something that encompasses air, yet is separate from it, a space where non-magical fire is not permitted, and which can saturate earth and transmute it into something different. And though not all water is connected, it runs like veins of blood through the earth, nurturing the plants and animals within. One must only look at Nethya to see how vital water is to life. But I digress. Some studies tentatively proved that fire might have the same potential for transformation, but since the potential of being burned to ash was rather high for any trying to use a fire portal, while the only risk of a water portal not working was getting wet, fire portals were abandoned as an idea and water portals were pursued. You see the results in front of us.”

  I stare at Sarran.

  “How do you know all of this?”

  “I am interested in reading about esoteric magic, for all that I have little of my own to use,” he explains, a faint defensive note in his voice.

  “Then I know who to come to for magical explanations,” I smile, doing my best to reassure him that I’m not going to react badly. I even earn the faintest hints of a smile from him. Then a flash of light draws all of our eyes back to Nicholas.

  “I’ve received the signal,” he explains, turning his head to look at us all. “The other side is free. Keep back from the edge of the pool.”

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