RD 5 Ch 21

Two days later, I found myself frowning and wondering if I should have started with Circe first. 

No sooner had she brought me to her own fortified position than she simply put me to work. I still had a fair bit of supervision, but I wasn't being treated like a criminal who just needed the opportunity to commit a crime.

"I see you're doing well, Bran," Circe said, stepping into the room. She looked far more relaxed than she had the first day she brought me to her base. Plopping down on a couch, she pulled an apple out of a spatial ring, and began munching on it while she watched me work. Her pink lips wrapped around the part she’d bitten into pressing into the apple as she sucked a bit of juice out.

Circe was a beautiful woman, blue hair, red eyes and delicate features on a heartshaped face. Though she was paler than I expected for her Greek origins. She favored thin breezy fabrics that the wind often played with.

"Enjoying yourself?" I asked before refocusing on the paperwork before me.

Her logistics had been running on fumes. While she'd been able to keep food and other resources needed for war in stock, it had become a situation where she was having to hustle around and put out fires continually, almost running out, and then rushing about to get the latest problem solved.

As the Wandering King, I preferred to do my own thing, but there were more than a few battlefields where the best way I could help was to take over logistics. Those skills were turning out to be more valuable than I could ever imagine in convincing Circe to give me a chance.

Circe crunched loudly on the apple, breaking my concentration once again. This time, though, she was no longer lounging and was reading over my shoulder. The woman had been impressed so far, but asked plenty of questions.

"Why are you having them move the latrines?" she asked.

"Because disease kills more than swords in most campaigns.” I grumbled. “I want them downhill and so the flies stay further away from anything we might eat or drink.”

“Huh. Don’t know how much you need to worry about that with my girls. They are a tough lot.”

“Diseases don’t really care how tough you are and it's best to keep them at their peak regardless.” I went back to work.

"So what's your deal?" she asked, watching me with eyes full of curiosity and even a small spark of interest.

"Well," I said, smiling at the woman who was known in myth as a nymph and wondering just how true that might actually be.,After all, her memories were obscured and who knew what she was like before her vast years of experience. "Let's just say my strength is currently sealed, and I came here only to find that all of my people are fighting over each other."

Circe laughed. "Your people? Oh, please don't tell me you're actually the Bran that Simone and her cult won't stop talking about?" Circe laughed, her red eyes filling with mirth. She paused after a moment to examine me critically when I didn't join in her laughter.

"And if I said I was him?” I pushed.

“Well then, why aren't you racing back to greet them?" Circe asked.

"Apparently, whatever's happening, they can't recognize me. With my strength sealed, I can't prove the point very well, can I?" I answered honestly.

Her eyes briefly glowed with nobility, no doubt inspecting me, before Circe clicked her tongue. "Your stats are strange. Your abilities are very lopsided," she said, poking the air in front of her. "I mean, regeneration is a top-tier ability, though maybe that goes with your vampire class. As for the bloodline manipulation abilities, well, those are the kind of things that people get shackled and put in dungeons for, or treat extraordinarily well. Not the kind of thing you find on someone wandering around at low levels.”

“Which of those am I?" I asked.

"You're too cute to put in a dungeon," she replied, patting my cheek. I took my chance, leaning in and trying to kiss her. Circe shifted so that my kiss landed on her cheek and pulled away with a sly smile.

"Well, I wouldn't mind keeping you around for more than one reason," she said, "but I'm worried if I let my guard down, you'll suck my veins dry." She laughed, and I shook my head.

"What can I do to prove myself to you, Circe?" I asked. 

"You're doing a good job right now," she said, pointing at the paperwork in front of me. "Managing that and doing it properly for my people goes a long way. As for anything else, time will tell." She hit me with a smile so beautiful it nearly stunned me. Or perhaps she was just that much faster than me because she slipped in to peck me on the cheek, ran her nails through my hair, and was already out of the seat and walking away from me by the time it all registered.

"If you play with a guy too much... he's bound to get frustrated," I told her. 

Circe giggled. "Maybe I like frustrated men," she said casually, walking away with a finger wave. For the first time since she had brought me from Simone's castle, I was entirely left to my own devices. 

I paused, stared down at the paperwork in front of me, and leaned back to stretch. There was a good chance this was a test. Tease me, frustrate me, and then leave me alone to see if I'd get up to no good.

Not that there was much I could actually do. Unlike Simone's castle, Circe's position was far less permanent. Simple structures had been built from carved stone and chopped trees. Her people had built temporary housing in the blink of an eye with system stats to help them. 

And if my guess was right, she didn't remember who Bran was. The Trial Kings had robbed each of the ladies of their memories. While Simone and her devotion had pulled at least the worship of me forward, Circe had regressed.

This was what she must have been like a thousand years ago, or perhaps even earlier in her life. The same Circe that was known as a mythical nymph was before me. Capricious, flirty, with a decent helping amount of ambition. The modern Circe I knew was practically burnt out in comparison.

I had always known that she had worn herself thin under her roles in leadership, but I had never realized it had been to this degree. Though perhaps this was for the best, because this Circe was far more likely to give me a chance. Really, the best way to her heart was relieving her of some of these leadership burdens.

Which meant, unfortunately, dealing with some of the logistics on her behalf. This meant I didn't have time to frolic and play around, nor take the breaks that I so desired. So, I dipped my head and went back to work, ensuring that the amount of metal coming in would be enough to satisfy the blacksmiths for both farming and weapons. Getting the right mixes for each was important. It was more about a steady flow than getting an influx here or there. Metal that sat in temporary housing for too long would rust.

Though it seemed I had gotten lost in my work, one of Circe's warriors cleared her throat as she leaned against the far wall, clearly waiting for me to look up and catch my attention. 

"What's a tall drink of water like you doing stuck in this tent all day?" she asked.

"Hello," I said, passive-aggressively. "Lovely to meet you, I'm Bran. And I work for Circe. Who might you be?"

"One of Circe's elites," she said, waving her hand and sashaying her hips from side to side as she pretended to peruse the shelves around me. 

"Is there something I can help you with?" I asked, only for her to turn as if she had been waiting for that this whole time. 

"Why, of course there is," she smiled. "Circe doesn't let a whole lot of men into the camp." The woman slithered across the room and slid up next to me. She was a slippery one. "Your sticking around has gotten me all curious," she purred, appearing at my side and running a delicate finger along my jaw.

"Oh, well, if you're just curious," I said, putting emphasis on the word, "I'm happy to tell you anything you'd like about me. After all, I'm an open book. And if Circe wants any of this information, she's welcome to it."

"Oh, I'm not here for Circe," she said as if it held a promise. "I'm here for you." Since I must not have been giving her enough attention, she ramped it up another notch, plopping down into my lap like a princess.

I realized ignoring her was not going to work at that point, and put the pen down only to focus on her and smile. "Well, if you're going to be like that, then I suppose I'm all yours." I held my arms out because she just made work impossible.

In fairness, she was beautiful. Most initiated with enough vitality always had good looks. Simply because so much of what we considered to be pretty was just symmetry and health. Now magically amplify that. All they needed was passing symmetry, and most initiated were rather attractive. 

"Do you know what they call us, don't you?" she asked, holding my gaze. 

"I can't say that's been part of my work thus far," I nodded at the paperwork since I couldn't reach it for the moment. 

The woman in my lap giggled, though it did seem a little forced. "They call us nymphs," she said the word with an emphasis that nearly forced me to look at her lips, plump, red, and closing in on me. 

I pulled back at the last second, dodging her much like Circe had done with me moments ago. "I'm sorry, there's a little too much work for me to be distracted right now. The last thing I need is for the boss to kick me out because I'm not pulling my weight."

The woman in my lap looked absolutely scandalized that I hadn't devoured her and shot to her feet with a huff.

I knew a woman scorned when I saw one, and quietly wondered if I'd just royally messed up. 

"Well," she said with a tone that told me she was barely keeping her cool, "I don't know how you'd be much worth for logistics, but it seems you're rather stupid as well." 

With that, she stormed out, and I found myself leaning back in the chair, wondering what exactly would come of that.