Dante slid slowly into the warm water, his freshly washed hair framing his muscled body, the wet, silky strands sticking to the hard planes and dips on his torso.
Two dark bands were tattooed around the bulging bicep of his left arm, the dark ink moving slightly, as he lifted up his arms to splash some water on his face.
He couldn’t spend too much time dawdling here because it was about time for dinner and it wouldn’t reflect well on him as a guest if he came late to dinner.
He didn’t need to worry about the sword that Malcer had gifted to him, it was highly unlikely for Mival to try any underhanded measures again.
Reluctantly, he stepped out of the now cooling water, feeling refreshed. He wrung out the water from his hair, drying up with the towels provided.
The robes that had been provided for him wear a little tight even though Nellie said she had brought the largest size they had, he couldn’t be picky now.
He also couldn’t wear the clothes he had on him, they immediately marked him out as an outsider and if he wanted to blend in, he would have to adhere to the difference in fashion styles.
There was a tunic, and pants with a floor length rope which came with a sash. The clothing was all made of a soft material which was dyed a soft brown, clearly nothing to be worn on the streets.
He got dressed and braided his long hair to keep it out of his way, it was still damp so that was the best option.
He walked over to his sword which he had placed on the center table in front of the fireplace, he had gotten it at the first town he had stopped by and it clearly had seen years of use, not that it mattered.
He merely didn’t want to hold Outlaw while he traveled, he was already a beacon for crude thieves, waving the unique weapon around wouldn’t have helped his situation.
His journey with the crudely made sword had ended, now that he had found somewhere to settle in, he could use the weapon freely.
Dropping his sword back on the table, he walked over to his box where the double bladed sword was sitting snugly.
Grabbing it by the hilt, he twisted it sharply, unlocking the mechanism that held the two blades together.
He appreciated the fine workmanship before locking the two blades once more and closing up the box. He would have to get two new sheathes to hold the blades.
He could understand Mival’s fascination with the beautiful sword, it was clear that the metal and the craftsmanship was not something you would find anywhere on earth and that’s because it wasn’t from earth.
Still, it was best Mival never got his hands on Outlaw.
After making sure that the sword was secure he locked up his room and went down for dinner, he was barely a few steps out of his room when he ran into Nellie, the middle aged woman who still eyed him warily like she expected him to run her through with his sword.
“I was just about to come get you.” She said with wide eyes, keeping her head steadfastly down. “If you will follow me.”
Dante quietly followed her, getting a proper look around as he did, the manor was brightly lit, chandeliers with brightly burning candles hung at the center of each room they passed, not to mention the candles stationed at the edges of the rooms and on either side of hallways.
The candles were bright and burnt cleanly without leaving behind black soot, it was clearly of high quality and had a pleasant smell to it, like sandalwood and a hint of floral.
Mival hardly changed even though he was now quite wealthy, even though he had not spared expenses to build the Wilton Manor, there was a distinct lack of servants.
There was enough to run the manor and provide him with everything he could need but for such a large house, the servants didn’t seem to match.
Dante should know, considering where he was coming from, there always seemed to be more servants than they knew what to do with.
Plus there was a homely air around the servants here in Mival’s manor, they were down to earth much like their master.
Nellie brought him to a double door, stopping and bowing before making herself scarce.
Dante braced himself for what would be behind the door, gently pushing open the doors.
Just like with the rest of the manor, the dining room was brightly lit, Mival clearly didn’t need to worry about things as measly as candles.
The food laid out on the dining table was enough to seal his worries on the matter, it was food fit for a king.
It made Dante wonder if the servants were going to join them to eat as well, because Mival lived alone and he was the only guest.
Mival caught sight of him at this point, sharp, little, white teeth flashing as he beckoned him over. “There you are, Dante, I just sent Nellie to get you.”
Dante made his way across the room, moving with fluid grace, Malcer would be happy to hear that Mival was doing far better than he had predicted.
He sat down at Mival’s directions, his gaze drifting to the food laid out before them again. Mival couldn’t possibly be capable of eating this much and still manage to remain that size now, could he?
“Is the food not to your liking?” Mival paused to ask, he was just readying to eat which meant that he had been waiting for Dante, it made him frown.
“No, not at all, thank you for the meal.” He muttered, starting to dig in.
For someone who talked constantly, he was quite the silent eater, that was fine with Dante.
It made him think though, was Mival quiet while eating because he had grown accustomed to eating alone?
He might be a household name in the city but it was evident that he had no friends, Dante could see how that happened.
The picture that Malcer painted to him was one of an average shop owner but that was a stark contrast to what Dante met.
He was probably too rich to be accepted into the middle class and the gentry weren’t too eager to have him in their class as well.
He might be prosperous and famous but he was also a social outcast and the worst part yet was that no one saw it.
“Tell me, is Malcer truly not coming back?” Mival finally broke the silence, his voice the most subdued that Dante had ever heard come from him.