It was pretty normal feeling to him, but then he spent a lot of time that way, didn't he?
Heading home, Tor wondered how he'd come to this pass.
First he made an enemy of a powerful and well connected man somehow. The devices he'd used to try and kill Tor showed that, if the high title and rank wasn't enough. Now he had to basically live with the same man for the duration? Whee. It seriously wasn't fair that Tor had to put up with an individual that had tried to kill him, twice. No normal person had to put up with this, did they? No, the bad guy was just put to death and everyone went on with their life a little better for it.
Except that sometimes people lied. And sometimes they thought they told the truth but didn't remember things correctly. Could he build a device to show that? It would… be halfway easy, he realized, blinking. He already knew how, and had done parts of it with the King himself. The emotion sensing amulets worked on a similar feedback idea even.
The next two days involved work for him, no matter what Smythe of freaking Westend was up to, which given their history probably included buying up and testing magics to kill Tor with.
Constant and unending work, but he managed a full ten hours sleep before he had to go to the palace complex, well nine of sleep and an early morning hour of cuddling with Petra.
That was nice, cozy even, but Tor kept wondering if she meant it. Was she just spying on him for her family and using sex or pretended affection to get close to him? Sure, he could have checked on what her field said about it, but Tor wasn't sure he wanted to know. He liked her. If she didn't feel the same way, it would hurt. But not knowing was hard too and caused him to pull away, keeping his distance emotionally. Could she tell that yet? Probably not, all the work he'd been doing would make him seem a bit slow and at a remove for a while, since he'd been so deep the whole time. That would mask things a bit.
Three novel builds in two days.
Tor had to feel a little proud of that. Well, at least if they all worked. He had to test things first, but the devices all felt right at least. That was a good sign. It meant he was starting to get a real feel for things, maybe at least. Unless he was delusional. Tor smiled and shook his head, because he was far from the point where at least some testing would be needed each time he made something, wasn't he?
Tor went to the palace early, the morning light still just coming out of false dawn, people on the street, but only sporadically yet. Mainly tradesmen and people sweeping their walks while it was still cool enough to not be a horrid experience. He stopped at Debbie's to drop off a few devices for sale, which she thanked him for, coolly, as if he'd done something wrong.
Another thing? He didn't have enough to deal with already? Still, as a friend he had to get to the bottom of this if he could.
Smiling a little weakly Tor asked her to explain, and not play games with it, since he had to leave the Capital inside a few hours. It sounded a little rough, but he wasn't trying to be mean, just get past the normal three weeks it took for women to explain why they were mad at him. She actually started on the whole “you know what you did” thing but he stopped her.
“Debbie… let's skip this part and just pretend that we went through the weeks of you saying I knew what I did, with me walking around pulling my hair out trying to think of what that could be. I haven't stinted you on money, and yeah, I gave some devices away, but trust me those girls wouldn't have been buying anyway and may get the word out…” He threw his hands up with a little, worried, smile.
Then she told him, bitterly, that it was nothing.
“Oh, forgot that part, OK, so now, moving past that, me going on about how it obviously is something, you claiming it isn't for days and we get to the real reason which is…”
She laughed at least, which was better than crying or hitting would have been.
“Well, I… I made clear overtures to you, inviting you in after work, suggesting we go out to eat and you keep turning me down! I'm not ugly, am I? Or unpleasant some way? I-” Now she started to tear up.
Oh… that. Well, he really should have known, but being a moron, what could be expected of him really?
“Debbie… well, it's not fair to you, but it comes down to this; you look too much like my older sister. Taller, but if we dressed you the same, at a distance people would be fooled. So really, I can't do that. It's nothing wrong with you, you're very good looking, so is Tamerlane, both great looking actually, but you can see that right? How it might be off-putting to me?”
It ended about then, with her clearly not believing that was his real issue, but apparently seeing it as a good excuse for all that, as if he were putting her off for some other reason. What that could be he just didn't know. He'd really told her his actual reason. Then she loaded him with a small trunk field loaded with gold for his trip. It wasn't his share of the last day’s proceeds, it was just so that he'd have money to invest as he traveled. He'd gotten her doing the same, helping out vendors, working on projects to help employ the cities poor and things like that.
The idea had actually been Countess Printers originally. Tor had wanted to use some of the money from sales of items there to help people, after the storm, but she pointed out that giving things away only worked in the short run. That people needed to work and earn their place to feel good about themselves. It made enough sense that he'd tried to adopt the practice himself, when he had extra funds. Yes, it meant he'd never have as much gold as some people, but how much did he need? He could make his own luxuries to a good extent now and didn't even need to buy clothing any more. Personally his expenses were down to food, and bathing supplies. What would that take, four gold a year? Ten if he splurged and ate out a lot?
If he couldn't afford to share, who could?
Debbie had also given him a small box with food for the trip, pastries and meat hand pies made by her relative, who turned out to be her brother. The man was called Box, but that couldn't be his real name, Tor didn't think. Still he smiled and seemed happy enough to be baking in the city with his sister. It seemed that he’d had some problems in their home village and needed to get out of town. Something about a girl, Tor thought, but didn't pry.
It was a good job, the man said, a friendly gleam in his eye, and he'd met a girl already, who he was pretty sure only wanted him because his sister had all those magic things, but she had sex with him, so that was fine for now, right?
Shrugging Tor pulled out a few amulets from his own gear and passed them to Box, in front of his sister, so that she'd know they were pure gifts and not filched from inventory.
“Spread them out for a bit and make sure she doesn't get pregnant. Have fun, but don't saddle yourself with someone only interested in your wealth, you know?” The man clapped him on the back and whooped a little. Then brushed at the flour hand print he'd left.
Debbie looked at him sadly as he left, wistfully, as if attaching herself to him romantically would be something a woman might want. It made Tor wonder who she was spying for. Sure, it would have to be a new thing, but it could happen. For that matter Box could have been a trained spy. Well, hopefully the girl was real at least.
Spies need love too, right?
The gate guards made him wait while they tried to find someone that could vet him. He paced a little, but just for the exercise of it, he knew why he had to wait and agreed with it, even if it was a pain in the rear this time of day. Smythe of Westend came, but the main gate guard, a Royal Guard after all, looked down his nose at the man and shook his head.