The bathhouse door closed behind them with a soft thud. Steam still clung to Corin's skin as he walked beside Senna back toward the main building, the morning air cool against his freshly washed body.
"Elara told me something interesting," Senna said, glancing at him sideways. A small smile played at the corners of her mouth. "About tit for tat?"
Corin raised an eyebrow. "Did she now?"
"She said you bathed her." Senna's cheeks colored slightly, but she pressed on. "I was hoping... well, wondering when my turn might come around."
'Oh, this is too easy,' Corin thought.
"Soon enough," he said aloud, keeping his tone light and friendly. "Unfortunately, the mistress is waiting for me today. Can't keep her waiting for my first real assignment."
Senna nodded, trying to hide her disappointment. "Of course. The mistress comes first."
They walked in comfortable silence back to his room. Inside, someone had laid out fresh clothes on the bed. Not the rough peasant tunics he'd been wearing, but actual quality garments. A shirt of cream-colored linen, soft and well-woven. Dark brown breeches that looked like they'd actually fit properly. A leather vest with brass buttons.
Senna moved to the small table where the scented oil waited. "Sit," she instructed, gesturing to the chair.
Corin obeyed, settling into the wooden seat. She poured oil into her palms, warming it between her hands before pressing them to his shoulders. Her touch was professional but gentle, working the oil into his skin with practiced movements.
'This is my life now,' Corin thought as her fingers kneaded the tired muscles in his back. 'Beautiful women bathing me, oiling me up, waiting on me. If someone had told me a while ago this would be my reality, I'd have laughed in their face.'
Senna moved down his arms, her thumbs working small circles into his biceps. The oil smelled faintly of lavender and something else he couldn't identify. Something expensive, probably.
"There," she said finally, stepping back. "That should do it."
Corin stood and moved to the bed, examining the clothes. The fabric felt better than anything the original Corin had ever owned. These were servant's clothes, yes, but high-quality ones. The kind that said 'I work for someone important.'
He dressed quickly while Senna tidied up the oil and bathing supplies. The clothes fit well, tailored to someone roughly his size. Lady Catherine had clearly planned this.
"Thank you," Corin said as Senna gathered the last of her things.
"Of course, young master." She gave a small curtsy, then headed for the door.
Corin watched her leave, his eyes tracking the sway of her hips beneath her plain dress, the curve of her waist where the rope belt cinched tight. No shame in his gaze, no attempt to hide his appreciation. She glanced back once before stepping into the hallway, caught his stare, and her cheeks flushed pink before she quickly looked away.
The door clicked shut.
Corin smirked and turned his attention inward.
[Ready to see your progress, host?]
The pink screen materialized, displaying his updated status:
[Training Quest Complete: Day 1/30]
[Rewards Earned:]
• +1 Stamina
• +1 Endurance
• 10 XP
• 5 CP
[Current Stats:]
[Host – Corin]
[Level – 1]
[XP – 75/100]
[Core Stats]
• Strength – 5
• Stamina – 6 (+1)
• Endurance – 6 (+1)
• Intelligence – 5
• Charm – 3
• Luck – 5
[Parasite Stats]
• Lust – 17
• Depravity – 1
• Corruption – 5
• Corruption Points – 55 CP
[New Quest Available: Training Regimen - Day 2/30]
Requirements:
• 50 push-ups (up from 30)
• 75 sit-ups (up from 50)
• 200 jump rope rotations (up from 150)
• 3 laps around property (up from 2)
Rewards:
• +1 Stamina
• +1 Endurance
• 15 XP
• 10 CP
Corin stared at the numbers, feeling a mix of excitement and dread.
'The requirements went up,' he thought. 'Of course they did. Can't make it too easy, can you?'
[You wanted power. Power requires work. Or did you think you could fuck your way to strength without building the body to back it up?]
'Fair point,' Corin admitted grudgingly. 'But fifty push-ups? I barely managed thirty today.'
[Then you'll do sixty tomorrow to make up for your weakness today]
"You're an asshole."
[I'm your path to power. There's a difference]
Corin pulled up the store interface. His 55 CP sat there, taunting him. The jump rope slot was marked as purchased. Below it, more items remained grayed out, their descriptions hidden behind question marks.
'So that's how it works,' Corin thought, studying the progression. 'Unlock items by earning CP, which I get from training and... other activities. The more CP I earn, the better gear I can buy, which makes training easier, which helps me earn more CP. It's a feedback loop.'
[Correct. Though you're thinking too small. The real rewards come later. Keep grinding, host]
A knock at the door interrupted his thoughts.
"Young master?" A maid's voice. Not Senna or Elara this time. "The mistress is ready for you."
Corin dismissed the screen with a thought and opened the door. A third maid stood there, one he vaguely recognized from the entrance hall the day before. She gestured for him to follow.
They walked through the manor's corridors, down the grand staircase, and out to the front courtyard where a carriage waited. Not a fancy noble's carriage with gilded decorations, but a well-maintained one that spoke of wealth without shouting about it.
Lady Catherine stood beside it, and Corin's breath caught despite himself.
She wore a gown of deep emerald green that brought out the blue in her eyes. The fabric hugged her figure before flowing into elegant skirts, and a cream-colored shawl draped over her shoulders. Her hair was arranged in an elaborate style that must have taken an hour to create, with small pins that caught the morning sun.
She looked like money. Like power. Like someone who could walk into any room and command attention without saying a word.
"Corin," she smiled warmly. "Right on time. Shall we?"
A footman helped her into the carriage, and Corin climbed in after her, settling onto the cushioned bench across from where she sat. The interior smelled of leather and that same expensive oil Senna had used on him.
The carriage lurched into motion, wheels crunching over the gravel drive.
"I trust you've had time to consider my proposal?" Lady Catherine asked, her hands folded neatly in her lap.
Corin nodded, keeping his expression respectful and measured. Not too eager. Not too reluctant. "I have, milady. And... I accept. If you'll have me."
Her smile widened. "I'm pleased to hear it. Truly. I think this arrangement will benefit us both."
"I hope I can meet your expectations."
"I have no doubt you will." She studied him for a moment. "Tell me about your life before. Before your stepmother sold you. Did you have anyone special? A sweetheart, perhaps?"
The original Corin's memories surfaced. Liora's face, laughing in moonlight. The taste of desperate kisses in dark forests. Promises neither of them could keep.
"There was someone," Corin said quietly. "But she was... out of reach. A slave girl belonging to Master Garrett. I couldn't afford her freedom. Could barely afford to feed myself most days."
Lady Catherine's expression softened with sympathy. "Love is a luxury the poor cannot afford."
"A nobody can only dream of love, milady. Dreams don't put food on the table."
"Ambitious," she said approvingly. "That's what matters, Corin. Pragmatism over sentiment. Perhaps someday, with the wealth you'll earn, you could marry a woman of your dreams. Who knows what the future holds?"
The carriage rolled on through the countryside, past fields of wheat and barley, small cottages with smoke rising from chimneys, farmers already at work in the early morning. Eventually the city walls came into view, tall and imposing, built from gray stone that had stood for generations.
They passed through the gates with barely a pause. The guards recognized Lady Catherine's carriage and waved them through without question.
And then they were inside Millhaven proper.
Corin's eyes widened.
The streets were chaos. Organized chaos, maybe, but chaos nonetheless. People everywhere, packed shoulder to shoulder in the main thoroughfare. Merchants shouted their wares from wooden stalls. Children darted between adults' legs. Animals added to the noise, horses neighing, donkeys braying, even a few camels loaded with goods from distant lands.
The smells hit him next. Bread baking, meat roasting, the sharp tang of tanning leather, the earthy scent of spices he couldn't name. Underneath it all, the less pleasant odors of a medieval city, unwashed bodies and animal waste and garbage piled in corners.
Vendors sold everything imaginable. Pottery, fabric, tools, food, trinkets, weapons. A group of dwarves had set up near the market center, their stall displaying axes and swords that gleamed in the morning sun. They were exactly as Elara had suggested, stocky and broad, with thick beards braided with metal rings. One of them was arguing loudly with a human customer about the price of a dagger.
'Actual dwarves,' Corin thought, still processing. 'Not little people. Actual fantasy-world dwarves with beards and everything.'
The carriage moved slowly through the crowded streets. People stepped aside when they saw Lady Catherine's crest on the door, bowing or touching their foreheads in respect.
"Milady Catherine!"
"Blessings, milady!"
"Good morning, Lady Ashford!"
She acknowledged each greeting with a gracious nod, the perfect picture of noble benevolence.
'In my world, someone this rich wouldn't walk around like this,' Corin thought. 'They'd have bodyguards, escorts, armed security. Too many crazy people with guns or knives. But here? I guess assassins aren't a thing yet. Or magic makes it harder. Or maybe she just has that much social power that nobody would dare.'
The carriage finally stopped in front of a shop with elegant script above the door: "Madam Celestine's Aromatics."
They stepped down, and immediately a young woman in a pristine white apron rushed out.
"Lady Ashford!" She practically glowed with excitement. "We weren't expecting you today! Please, please come in!"
Inside, the shop was a sensory overload. Bottles and vials lined every shelf, each containing liquids of different colors. The air was thick with competing scents, floral and spicy and sweet all mixing together.
Several customers were already inside, browsing the wares. The moment Lady Catherine entered, the attendant clapped her hands sharply.
"Everyone out! Lady Ashford requires privacy for her selection!"
The customers looked up, startled. One man opened his mouth to protest.
"Out!" the attendant repeated, her voice brooking no argument. "The shop is closed for the next hour!"
Grumbling, the customers filed out. One woman shot Lady Catherine a resentful look that disappeared the moment their eyes met, replaced with nervous deference. Within two minutes, the shop was empty except for Corin, Lady Catherine, and the attendant.
'That's what power looks like,' Corin thought, watching the scene with fascination. 'She didn't even have to say anything. Her presence alone cleared the room.'
Lady Catherine spent the next thirty minutes selecting perfumes, testing scents on delicate paper strips, discussing notes and undertones with the attendant. Corin stood quietly near the door, observing everything.
From there they visited a clothier, where the same scene repeated. Customers ushered out, the shop's full attention devoted to Lady Catherine. She selected several outfits for Corin, high-quality servant's wear that would make him presentable when accompanying her or meeting clients.
By the time they returned to the carriage, the sun had climbed to its zenith.
"What did you see today, Corin?" Lady Catherine asked as they settled back into their seats.
"A lot, milady. The market, the people, the different goods..."
"And what did you learn?"
Corin thought carefully. "That Millhaven is larger than I expected. More diverse. I saw dwarves at the weapon stalls. The trade seems robust."
"All true," she acknowledged. "But you missed the most important lesson."
She leaned forward slightly, her blue eyes holding his.
"Power, Corin. That's what you should have learned today. Power is everything in this world. The poor hold no sway in society. They're moved aside, dismissed, forgotten. You saw how people reacted to my presence. Shops cleared for me. Merchants gave me their best prices without haggling. Guards waved us through without inspection."
She settled back against the cushions. "That's what you're working toward. Not just wealth, but the power that comes with it. The ability to walk into any room and have people listen when you speak. To never be vulnerable to someone else's whims again."
Her expression softened slightly. "Remember this lesson, Corin. Always remember it. You were sold like livestock because you had no power. Your stepmother had more power than you, so she controlled your fate. That must never happen again."
The carriage rolled through the gates back toward the manor. Corin sat in silence, processing everything he'd seen and heard.
When they arrived, Lady Catherine touched his arm gently. "Go rest. You've had a full morning, and I'm sure your body is still recovering from your earlier exertions."
Corin bowed and made his way back to his room. Once inside, he collapsed onto the bed, staring at the ceiling.
The dwarves kept playing in his mind. Actual fantasy races, walking around like it was normal. Because for them, it was normal. This world operated on completely different rules than his old one.
And yet, some things remained constant. Power. Hierarchy. The strong taking what they wanted while the weak survived however they could.
The new clothes lay folded on his chair, quality fabric that felt wrong against his calloused hands. According to the original Corin's memories, these were indeed top-tier stuff for a servant. The kind of clothes that marked you as working for someone important, someone with real influence.
'I'm moving up in the world,' he thought with dark amusement. 'From dead loser to breeding stud for the nobility. What a journey.'
A knock interrupted his musings.
"Young master?" A maid's voice, muffled through the door. "The mistress requires your presence in her chambers."
Corin sat up, surprise flickering through him. Her chambers? That seemed fast. He'd literally just agreed to the arrangement this morning.
He followed the maid through corridors he hadn't explored yet, up a different staircase to the manor's upper floor. They stopped before an ornate door, dark wood carved with floral patterns.
The maid gestured and then turned to leave, her footsteps fading down the hall.
Corin knocked.
"Enter," Lady Catherine's voice called from within.
He pushed the door open and stepped inside.
The room was magnificent. Easily three times the size of his quarters, with a four-poster bed draped in silk, a writing desk by the window, shelves of books, plush carpets covering the stone floor. A fireplace dominated one wall, currently unlit. Everything spoke of wealth and taste, from the paintings on the walls to the crystal vase of fresh flowers on the nightstand.
Another door opened across the room, and Lady Catherine emerged.
She looked flustered. Her hair had come partially loose from its earlier arrangement, strands falling around her face. Her cheeks were flushed, and her dress, while still elegant, seemed slightly disheveled.
Corin bowed. "You called for me, milady?"
She crossed the room toward him, her expression a mix of embarrassment and something else.
"Yes. I... I need your help with something."
The way she said it made Corin's pulse quicken. The implications hung heavy in the air between them.
"Of course, milady. Whatever you need."