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B2 | Chapter 3 - Ideas
🕑 Added 2025-05-05 11:14:23 +0000 UTC< Previous | ToC | Next >
B2 | Chapter 3 - Ideas
Theodore stared at her.
"I… what? Why me? I have responsibilities here. The mines are sabotaged, winter is here—"
"Yes, yes, 'winter is here,' you sound like a Northerner with that doom and gloom." She waved a dismissive hand. "As for why you... well, who knows? Fate? Destiny? The mysterious workings of powers beyond mortal comprehension?" She grinned. "Or perhaps because you're the only one who can safely get them to the capital without ending up with an axe in your back."
Bullshit. Juliana is stronger than me.
Theodore sank back into his chair. "This is madness. I can't abandon Holden at a time like this."
"Can't you, though?" Aunt Karmichael cocked her head, and even though she was blindfolded, Theodore got the distinct feeling that she could see right through him. "Your people are resourceful. Your systems are in place. And sometimes, Theodore, the best way to protect what's important is to step away briefly so you can return stronger."
Ah, so that's what it is.
Being the target of assassins while escorting the princess meant that he would have to take the hit instead of her—which meant levels.
She wanted him stronger. It wasn't a terrible strategy for strengthening himself, and he needed a break anyhow, so going according to Aunt Karmicheal's wishes seemed to be a good decision.
Refusing wasn't really possible—not if Juliana was in danger. Family obligation aside, she was a royal envoy. Her safety was a matter of state importance.
"When exactly are they arriving?" He asked as he mentally reorganized his plans.
Aunt Karmichael beamed. "That's the spirit! They should be here in a few weeks, assuming they don't run into any of Borstag's assassins along the way, in which case it could take well over a month or two, or three."
"I don't suppose you have any more specific information about these attempts on their lives? Something actually useful?"
"Details, details," she said, waving a hand. "So boring."
"Any advice on how to deal with professional killers?" he asked dryly.
"Don't die. Oh, and remember that sometimes the best defense is a good cake."
"A good... cake," Theodore repeated flatly.
"Or was it offense? A good offense? Something like that." She shrugged, helping herself to another chocolate. "Metaphors get so muddled in my brain."
With a groan, Theodore knew better than to anticipate comprehensible instructions. Aunt Karmichael had a real gift of Sight, but she viewed the world through a distorted prism of madness. Her cryptic remarks were either prophetic or the mind wanderings of someone disconnected from reality, depending on the situation.
"Is there anything else I should know?"
"Hmm." She tapped her chin. "Not really." She stood up, brushing crumbs from her robes and mouth. "Well, this has been lovely! But I really must dash. Places to go, futures to see, you understand."
"Wait—"
Violet light flared around her, and she vanished as abruptly as she had arrived.
Why can't you just teleport them, he'd wanted to ask.
But of course, she did what she pleased, and the answer to his question was rather simple anyway:
She wanted him stronger than he currently was, and she saw this as a good opportunity.
There was a strange emptiness in the room without her. Looking down at the empty half-box of chocolates on his desk, Theodore stared on the spot where she had been.
"Well," he said to Opie, who flicked his tongue as if in commiseration, "that complicates things."
An understatement, but what else could he say?
A sudden displacement of air announced a new presence in the room. Theodore barely had time to register the soft pop before Miss Bodyguard appeared out of nowhere and landed neatly on the edge of Theodore's desk. Without so much as a word, she reached for the box of chocolates, selected a round truffle, and popped it into her mouth.
Theodore stared. The nonchalant way she'd helped herself to his personal stash and began waving her legs slightly was more impressive than the teleportation or whatever it was—he'd been used to people popping up and disappearing all around him lately.
Such... normal behavior from someone so decidedly not normal.
The sound of her sigh was almost dripping with relief. "No aunt."
A laugh bubbled up from Theodore's chest. The ridiculousness of it all. Here was his assassin-bodyguard snatching his chocolate and claiming relief at avoiding small talk as a princess and assassins approached.
"Are you that afraid of her?"
He leaned back in his chair and asked.
Miss Bodyguard took a while to respond. Her face would seem to everyone else as uninterested as ever, unreadable porcelain perfection. However, Theodore had now spent enough time with her to pick up on the hints. The corners of her eyes tightened almost imperceptibly. The tensing and shifting of her jaw. He could understand her.
She was troubled, genuinely troubled, by his aunt.
Fascinating.
As he watched she carefully and precisely choose another chocolate, Theodore stretched his legs out beneath the desk. Even something as basic as picking chocolate was carried out with lethal efficiency, as was the case with everything she did.
"So," he said, breaking the comfortable silence between them, "tell me about yourself." When her eyes flicked to his, he quickly added, "Obviously, if you want to."
She didn't answer. Just carefully nibbled her chocolate while keeping her gaze focused on a distance beyond the room's boundaries. Theodore gave her space. He had discovered that attempting to hurry her was futile and possibly hazardous, much like attempting to hasten a glacier.
Theodore had just about convinced himself she wouldn't answer when her voice came.
"Raised to serve."
A pause. She selected another chocolate.
"I was orphaned as a kid. I still don't know who my parents are." Another chocolate disappeared between her lips before she continued with unexpected elaboration. "Special division for royal children—the king insists on it, previous kings have done so for generations. I was chosen to be a part of it when I joined as a soldier out for blood of my family's killers."
With blinks of surprise, Theodore put the pieces back together.
"Trained to kill, to protect." She looked at him. "My whole existence has been a training ground for this—I am here to serve as a shield, a weapon, or a tool for you to use any way you choose."
His stomach twisted uncomfortably. What did you say to that? If someone had just revealed their entire life as nothing more than an extension of your own, what could you say to them?
Theodore had known that she was assigned to him. But not... this.
Once more, there was silence between them, only this time, it wasn't comfortable. Theodore gazed at his hands, then at the wall, and last at Opie, who offered no helpful insights whatsoever. A traitor!
Even so, what could he say?
A minute went by.
Theodore sighed at last. "Would you like to travel with me?"
She cocked her head ever-so-slightly.
"I mean," he persisted, overcoming his unease, "you've been trained from a young age, right? I doubt they gave you much time to... I don't know, see the world? For yourself? So I thought, maybe, you'd like to do that. With me. See some places. Not just as my... um, tool."
The word didn't sound right.
Goddamnit.
Miss Bodyguard didn't reach for another chocolate.
***
Theodore had come up with three separate plans in the time it took to set up a meeting with Baron Ashton of Westford. He seldom wavered once he put his mind to something; it was more that he was constantly struck by fresh ideas, rather than being especially hesitant.
Each iteration—the first, second , and final final—became increasingly more detailed than the last. Not that he'd needed to be so thorough. But hell, what else was he supposed to do while waiting? There was nothing more for him to do except wait as he had already completed his daily training and practice. Twiddle his thumbs? Watch paint dry?
It wasn't Theodore's style. It never had been.
Putting in the effort was one thing. He did that without any complaints. Just sitting around and waiting, though… That really got on his nerves.
His ideas were now so intricate that they could have been submitted to a modern engineering firm—had such a thing existed in this world, that is. Which they didn't. Not yet, at least
Opie kept an eye on him, occasionally slipping his tongue out.
"Don't give me that look," Theodore told the little guy, who absolutely was not giving him any particular look. "I'm handling this perfectly well."
Ashton could have sent a messenger with a certain time, couldn't he? For someone with Theodore's schedule, the phrase "sometime this afternoon" wasn't exactly useful. Was there anything else he could do? What other options did he have after he planned the public bath?
Ah, houses. Yeah, the people will need better housing. I think I should make bricks, or should I?
He froze in his tracks as he heard a tap at the door.
The door swung open at his command, and it was Cedric.
"Lord Ashton's letter has arrived," Cedric said.
The goddamn letters. Should he just build his SoapNet and start using the soaps scattered over the kingdom? If nothing else, communication would be a lot better...
Theodore glanced over the letter and confirmed the meeting date; it was clear that Ashton had agreed; the man had been waiting for the right moment to kiss his ass. By the time he finished penning his reply, the sun had already begun to peek through the window. With the meeting arranged and future fervidite in sight, Theodore began to formulate plans in his mind. He had plans. Plans that required fervidite. That was the reason he'd wanted to go along fighting monsters in the first place.
Theodore was overjoyed to learn that the monsters were slimes based on the information Ashton had supplied. Because his recent experiments with compressed air would allow him to blast slimes to pieces.
In any case, he reasoned that constructing kilns and kickstarting brick production would be a wise next step. At last, he was free to devote himself entirely to the task at hand.
"Let's see," he said to Opie, examining his most recent sketches while tapping his quill against his chin. "Separate areas for men and women, obviously. Can't have any scandals in this prudish society."
Opie flicked his tongue lazily, which Theodore chose to interpret as agreement.
There was no doubt that the familiar could understand him. Because they had a bond, Theodore was also able to comprehend the familiar's intentions, typically.
The old Roman public baths. During his time in college, Theodore had toured reconstructions and had always been astonished by how well they worked. Of course, with the technology and resources at his disposal, he couldn't duplicate all that complexity here. However, he could design something that would fulfill the same fundamental function.
Cleanliness. Health. Community.
And profit, of course. Couldn't forget that angle.
Gonna have to simplify things a bit, Theodore mused, and went back to drawing. On opposing ends of the building, he sketched two identical portions, one titled "Men" and the other "Women," each with a separate entrance.
First, he added changing rooms first. Simple and useful. Then came the main bathing area—the heart of the establishment.
Theodore paused and frowned.
It was going to be difficult to heat water in this world without contemporary plumbing. The Romans had found a solution in their hypocaust systems, which used furnaces to heat the walls and floors. Would he be able to do the same? Maybe magic.
"Well, why not?" he decided, sketching a rough diagram. "We'll need a system of pipes sooner or later."
He could also use fervidite.
In order to allow hot air from wood-burning stoves to circulate, he sketched a network of channels underneath the floor. Additionally, he included areas where he could add fervidite, but doing so would need upkeep from a [Mage], which he now had in spades. Many people had relocated to this small town during the soap boom, and it wouldn't be incorrect to refer to it as a small city. In any case, he needed better housing.
The hot air would be able to circulate since the flooring would be elevated on pillars made of stacked bricks. It would take a lot of work to construct, but it would work. And, if he did it correctly, efficient as well.
Another problem was the water itself. It would have to be heated before it could get to the baths, and they would require a consistent supply.
He drew in a number of pools, with smaller ones of different temperatures around the periphery and a great center bath for communal swimming in each part. Tepid tubs for routine washing, hot soaking pools for people with sore muscles, and a frigid plunge for the courageous.
Something for everyone.
Theodore got to his feet and stretched. More than anything else, he did it out of habit. After all, he had almost never had to worry about becoming exhausted from simple chores or bad posture since Evolving.
Regular bathing was considered a luxury in this world. Most aristocrats had their own private baths in their manors. The majority of the population had to settle for brief washes with cold water in winter. or occasional dips in rivers during the warm months. For many, winter meant a lot of time without a good wash.
That diseases spread so rapidly was not surprising.
"They'll be able to bathe regularly," Theodore said to Opie, who was watching him with indifference. "And the health benefits..."
A thought came to him, and he abruptly stppped pacing.
A cunning grin appeared on his face.
"And of course, more bathing means more soap. More soap means more sales. Got to keep the business angle in mind."
One of his earliest achievements in this world had been his soap-making venture. It was far superior to what the majority of people here were accustomed to, even if it was nothing special by Earth standards—just plain lye soap with herbs added for fragrance.
At the moment, most of his profit was primarily due to the upper classes, but with public baths, he could expand his market significantly.
The building's main structure would be made of bricks from his new kiln, but he would also need to find other materials. Although it would be costly, stone would be perfect for the pools. The ideal material would be marble, but that was probably out of the question at the moment. He wanted to prioritize practicality above extravagance.
Towels, soap, fervidite, pipes, pumps, heating system, stone, bricks—that was Theodore's list jotted down in the corner of his parchment.
As he considered more essentials, the list grew longer. Although this would not be inexpensive, the long-term investment would be worthwhile. Not only monetarily, but also in terms of goodwill and public health.
The people of Holden would have access to basic hygiene that most commoners in this world could only dream of.
And if it happened to increase his influence and status in the process? Well, that was just a happy side effect.
When the baths opened, he pictured the townspeople's reactions. He knew there would be initial skepticism. Regular bathing would be viewed by many as an unneeded luxury or, worse, as a risky habit. In this world, it was frustratingly common to believe that taking a bath or steaming exposed the pores to sickness.
However, after they had firsthand experience with the cleanliness and comfort...
They would question how they managed to survive without it.
Not everyone would be happy, of course.
The most conservative members of society, who were suspicious of any change, would undoubtedly complain.
"What do you think, Opie?"
The obsidian viper had settled into his favorite basking spot. Opie blinked slowly as he was called, then closed his eyes, apparently done with the conversation.
"I'll take that as a yes."
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