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“If you really want to wash your clothes, you can. I don’t really mind.” Although… well, he was already the subject of several rumors. He didn’t want to cause any more if he could help it. Maybe it would be best if she went home in her own clothes. Still, it seemed like a bother for her to wash her clothes here. Ah well, he would let her decide what was best for her. And then politely arrange matters if he thought that what she thought was stupid.

He only left for a few moments before returning with some clothes. It wasn’t anything fancy. Just a pair of brown breeches and a cream-colored shirt. Still, the fabric was of good quality. Not silk, but it was some of the finest cotton, the type of stuff that most women could only dream about. He held out the clothes to her. “Sure, we could talk after you get changed.”

Did she really feel like she had to ask? Well, then again… Rem was a noble. So, maybe she felt like she had to.

At first when Laura had mentioned ‘helping each other in more ways than one’, Rem was downright suspicious. In his experience, when a woman said those words and thrust out her breasts like that, she was after one thing. And they had the tenacity to say that men were filthy pigs! Remiel wasn’t against sex, mind you. He understood its place in the grand scheme of life and whatnot. It was simply that he didn’t want to sleep with any willing woman who came around. To him, it was supposed to be special. A sort of union between two people who truly loved each other.

It was a huge relief when Laura had continued and explained that she was merely asking if he wanted a live-in maid. Or, at least, that was what she was saying. In Rem’s experience, women didn’t always mean what they said. “I’m not sure… I prefer doing everything for myself. There wouldn’t be a whole lot of things for you to do, really.”

Alright, so the real reason was that he wanted to avoid generating any new rumors about himself. He was already fed-up with this city where gossip could travel faster than a ferret on amphetamines. Although… a little spark of electricity shot across Remiel’s brain, pointing out that if he supposedly already had a lover, perhaps the women of this city would be a little less… pushy.

“We could try it for a few weeks,” he suggested, wondering if he should be prepared for another hug.

Rem wasn’t sure if he should be relieved or grateful that Laura didn’t hug him. On one hand, he liked hugs. Most people did. They were nice and fuzzy. On the other hand, there was that one part of him---the part that had enabled him to survive the war---that told him not to let anyone get their arms around him because they would attempt to snap his spine like a dry twig.

“No, not really. Not for something like that.” He sounded a little confused. Why would there be a uniform? So that other cleaners couldn’t sneak in and clean everything while the real maids weren’t looking or something? His head was filled with confused images of maids with grappling hooks sneaking into the second floor windows while the real maids were patrolling the first floor and hunting for dust bunnies. “Just wear whatever you’re comfortable in.”

… just what would he do with a maid anyway? He took care of himself. He always did. It was simply one of those things that he did. Ah well, at least he would have some company. Doing all of the work around here didn’t exactly make for a riveting social life, after all. Hm, which reminded him... there was that little gathering coming up shortly.

“…can you cook?” he asked eventually. “It’s not that I’m helpless in the kitchen, it’s just that it would be nice not having to do it…”

“That seems… weird.” Servants back home hadn’t done that. They were free people, free to wear whatever they wanted---so long as they wore something---and weren’t owned. It sounded like branding to Rem. There was something wrong about that. Sure, in the war there had been uniforms. Sort of, anyway. For his side. The rebels hadn’t been able to really afford proper uniforms, but it didn’t matter since nearly everyone wore the same types of clothes anyway. Still, military was different. You had to know for the sake of not accidentally killing someone on your side. Again, strange images of maids hired by noble houses locked in ever-lasing battle entered his mind.

“I’m actually not hungry at the moment,” he said with a shrug. “I was just asking for the sake of inquiry. Do you know how to read? What about writing?” These were life skills as far as Rem was concerned. They were something that everyone ought to know. Unfortunately, it seemed like very few people outside of the nobility---and the merchant class---- bothered learning.

“Well, you’ll have to learn eventually. I’ll start teaching you tomorrow.” There wasn’t really a question in his tone. It was more of a statement of fact. He would start teaching her and she would learn. Just because Remiel wasn’t exactly the typical noble didn’t mean that he wasn’t used to giving orders or something. Or that he wasn’t arrogant. Whether Laura wanted to or not, Rem would attempt to teach her. And that was it, as far as he was concerned.

He gave her question due consideration, trying to figure out what she would need to know. “Yes. Don’t go into my room. The study is fine. Just not my bedroom. I like my privacy. And no touching the weapons in the study without permission. Some of them just should not be touched. Let’s see… and be sure to close the window to your bedroom at night because otherwise you’ll wake up with a cat on your face. Oh. That reminds me, I ought to show you where you’ll be staying…”

Smooth. Once again, the noble started walking down the hall. He didn’t bother looking back to make sure that Laura was following him. Once again, that was something he just sort of assumed. He hadn’t gone far before stopping and opening up the door.

It was a nice-looking bedroom, decorated mostly in blues and silvers. There were a few amateurish watercolor pictures on the walls, probably put there simply because Rem had no idea where else to put them. The bed didn’t have any blankets on it yet. Clearly, he hadn’t gotten around to that at this point. But, it did have two cats sleeping on it. Both of the felines looked up as the door opened and one of them darted under the bed quickly. The other blinked lazily before yawning and going back to sleep.

“It’s not that I worry about you hurting yourself with them.” Alright, so he was a little concerned about that possibility… but, he wasn’t stupid enough to say this. “It’s simply that a few of them are very… important to me. They have sentimental value. I don’t want them touched.” It was simply one of those silly little personal things that others just had to work around, because Rem was as sure as hell not going to change.

The cat woke up briefly as it was picked up and blinked wearily at Laura with large yellow eyes. Once again, it yawned and fell asleep, apparently not at all concerned that it was being held by a stranger.

“You’ll have to get the blankets and stuff on the bed. I wasn’t expecting anyone to actually use this room, so I haven’t gotten around to it,” Rem said with a slight shrug. Automatically, he let one hand go to the gryphon’s head, scratching at its feathers affectionately.

Rem eyed Laura a tad suspiciously when she asked about practicing sword-fighting. It had sounded almost teasing, but she looked too serious. Well, he would just have to take it at face-value as a genuine question. “If you really want to, I suppose so…” he said slowly. He wasn’t sure if it was a good idea. No matter how well Laura’s older brother had taught her, Rem was pretty sure that she couldn’t come close to his abilities. Again, there was that slight worry of hurting her.

“Later, I’ll tell you exactly which ones should not be touched. There aren’t many of them.” Just the few that he felt were especially important to him sentimentally. “I should go get the blankets and stuff for your bed…” he backed out of the room and left for the linen closet, still trying to figure out just how he had ended up with Laura living underneath his roof. When had they gone from ‘hey, I’ll sponsor you’ to ‘Hey, feel free to live under my roof’.

Well, it would only be for a few weeks. If it didn’t work out, no harm done, unless she did something that he asked her not to do. In which case, she would just have to leave earlier. He returned soon enough with an armful of blankets and sheets which were dumped on the bed unceremoniously.

Remiel didn’t think of himself as ‘fickle’. Not exactly. More like ‘a**l about specific things and if those things weren’t done exactly to his liking, he would throw a world-class hissy fit’. But, that took too many words to say, so he normally didn’t call himself that. Once he gathered up the sheets and blankets he felt that Laura would need, he came back into the room again. Without knocking, actually, since his arms were a little full.

But, true to male form, he didn’t hear anything she said because he was too busy trying to keep all the blankets in his arms. Multi-tasking didn’t come naturally to him. The blankets were plopped down on the bed and petted the cat briefly. Apparently, one of them was still hiding under the bed. Ah well, that one would come out when it was ready… they always did.