CHAPTER 76 Luckily, I Am a Patient Dark Lord

Keith

Keith received a report from the mouse golem he had tailing Minstrel Bronwynn that told him she and Henrietta were still baking in the kitchen.

Well, Henrietta was baking. Bronwynn was telling a story about last winter's hunt for the White Stag in Peldeep, and how many people had fallen over from the spiked apple cider.

Fall was his favorite time of the year, and it was so far away. They needed to finish the war, go to the Spring Ball, and then suffer through summer and the Summer Masquerade before the cold, crisp wind heralded cozy blankets and warm tea and scones.

Of course, he had warm tea and scones all year, but there was something magical about autumn and its aesthetic.

Keith sighed and turned back to his reports.

Suddenly, Rufus burst into his office. Unlike the usual suave grace that carried the man, he was in a sheer panic.

"Why didn't you warn me?" he demanded. There were a lot of people bursting into offices these days; Chloe, Rufus, and even himself. Was this what it was going to be like for the foreseeable future?

"About what?" Keith couldn't even remember the last time he'd seen his friend looking so out of sorts.

Rufus stood up straighter and tried to compose himself. "Our new guest."

"Minstrel Bronwynn?" Keith stamped a sheet of paper and put it in the to-be-filed pile.

"She's a Minstrel now?" Rufus asked, excitedly, then he paused. "Wait, never mind that. What is she doing in the kitchen?"

"Why are you asking me?" Keith countered. "I think it should be obvious enough: Henrietta is baking her some bimbleberry scones."

Keith hoped they saved him some. He would hate to hold a grudge against Ria's oldest friend.

Rufus ran a hand aggressively down his face. "How long is she going to be here?"

"As long as she wants. Or more, as long as Ria wants." Keith raised an eyebrow at his friend. The man had just told him how much effort he went to in order to see famous bardic performances around the continent. Now that they had one of the most renowned minstrels in their castle, he should have expected this. "I should let you know, Minstrel Bronwynn is joining us for dinner."

Rufus made a choking noise and pulled at the collar of his crisp white shirt. "How do I look?"

Keith raised an eyebrow. "Uncomfortable?"

"You're useless," the commander general told his king. "I'm going to go find Chloe."

Keith waved dismissively at his best friend. "You do that. I'm sure she isn't distracted by her new fiancée. If you're worried, why don't you just skip dinner?"

"Are you mad?" Rufus glared.

Keith eyed Rufus. "Not particularly. Though some might wonder how I wouldn't be mad at your insolence. Luckily, I am a patient Dark Lord."

"I'm leaving," Rufus stated. "I'll see you at dinner."

The beastman stalked out on a mission to go find Chloe and do whatever it was they would do in order to prepare him for eating dinner.

Keith didn't know what the fuss was all about; he didn't care what he looked like in front of Ria … The Dark Lord glanced down at his own tunic. The top two buttons were broken, creating a V-neck shape as the fabric dangled open. The bottom button was gone, and another button had snapped in half, hanging on by a thread.

Keith stood up. Maybe he should change his clothes before dinner.

"It pleases this Rinrin that Your Viciousness has come to me." The ratkin in charge of Keith's wardrobe looked up from darning his socks.

The Dark Lord didn't visit the laundry room very often, but that was where Rinrin was, and he needed her. The room was filled with giant boilers being stirred by her ratkin family and one stone golem. "Do you need more golems?"

He asked because the idea of a ratkin falling into the boiling waters flashed before his eyes, and he immediately started planning improvements for the laundry operation.

"Yes," Rinrin said simply, nodding. "That would do nicely."

He couldn't imagine how much burn salve and potions the castle approved for the kitchen and laundry room; that wasn't the kind of report that passed his desk. Hopefully, he could move a few heat-resistant golems here, and they would save on pain and suffering—and also the kingdom finances.

He wouldn't dream of suggesting the same to Panlith. The thought of burnt toast at every meal for a week made him shudder. He left the kitchens alone, approved most of whatever they requested, and Keith rejoiced in a variety of sweet, sweet pastries. More, now that Henrietta was making him personal treats.

On the topic of Henrietta …

"I'm here because of my buttons. Could you fix them for tonight?" Keith plucked at his clothes.

"His Viciousness wants Rinrin to repair his buttons?" Rinrin sniffed, a single tear running down her cheek. "I have dreamed of this day! This Rinrin will do so. Gladly."

Keith eyed the moist-eyed ratkin. "Should I come back—"

"No!" The ratkin jumped to her feet. "Take off your clothes right now. I will repair them! Toto, bring the new batch of arachne thread!"

One of the ratkins jumped up and ran for the storage closet.

Keith crossed his arms in front of him defensively. He looked around the room at his minions, who had stopped to watch the exchange. "Now, just wait one second, Rinrin. I'm not going to—"

"I'll fix the buttons!" The ratkin stalked closer to the Dark Lord, a gleam in her eye that had nothing to do with tears.

Keith came to dinner with clothing that had been washed, repaired, and ironed. He pulled awkwardly at the done-up collar that hugged his throat, and hoped that it gave him the proper appearance of a Dark Magician King.

By royal decree, no one would ever speak of what had happened in that laundry room.