Back at the ballroom, Damien carefully observed the faces of all the attendees, making sure to remember some of them. He subtly navigated the room, eavesdropping on conversations that piqued his interest.
Most of what he heard was mere gossip, but even gossip could be useful if wielded properly. He was starting to develop a clear understanding of this world: its people, their culture, and even their mannerisms. He'd mastered it so well that it felt like he was one of them.
After a while, Edmond returned, making his way around the room to greet the guests. He chatted and laughed among them with his usual gentlemanly demeanor, but it was painfully obvious to Damien that he was just putting on a show.
'What could have happened to him? Does it have something to do with that woman he was speaking with?'
In the end, Damien and Edmond left the event early and returned to their carriage.
"May I ask you something?" Damien inquired as the carriage began to move.
"Haah, go ahead," Edmond replied, sounding exhausted.
"Who was that girl, the one with the white hair?"
"Oh… that's Élise De Sèvres. What did you think of her?"
"What did I think?" Damien paused for a moment, considering whether to share his true thoughts. Undoubtedly, Edmond was testing him. He decided to play along. "I think she's dangerous."
"Oh? What makes you say that?"
"It's just the feeling I got from her, and everyone's reaction confirmed it."
"Well, you're right; she is dangerous. I'm glad you weren't fooled by her beauty. In all honesty, it's better to stay away from her and people like her."
"People like her? What's that supposed to mean?"
"You'll figure it out soon enough."
"Okay…" Damien said, still confused by what Edmond was implying. "Another thing, where are we going? This isn't the route we took before."
"To the alehouse. I don't feel like going home just yet so let's have a drink together."
The carriage stopped beside an alehouse on a relatively deserted corner of the city. Both Damien and Edmond exited the carriage and entered the establishment.
The alehouse was far from pristine. It was held together by hopes and dreams, with termite-infested wood clinging on for dear life. The air reeked of sweat and filth. Inside, the scene was deplorable: men passed out on the floor, others drinking and shouting with their friends, while some were getting their cocks sucked while drowning themselves in mugs of ale.
It was truly a reputable establishment. A little place called 'Eden'.
The women here weren't much to look at, but for just three pieces of copper, you could take one outside into the alley and have your way with her for three minutes.
Edmond approached the bartender, a fat old woman who appeared to be in her late fifties. They spoke with an air of familiarity.
"How ya doing, Edmond? Haven't seen ya in a while."
"I'm doing fine. How have you been, Myrah?"
"Same old, same old. So, who's this strapping fellow you have with ya?"
"This is my new attendant, Lukas."
"How you doing, ma'am?" Damien greeted her with a small nod.
"He's a polite one, isn't he? Glad you finally got rid of that bearded freak. So what can I do for ya boys? Are you here for the women or for the ale?"
"Ale, please," Edmond answered. "Just keep it coming until I give you the signal to stop. or if I pass out."
They both collected their fist mugs of ale and found an empty seat in a corner of the alehouse.
"I never expected you to come to a place like this," Damien commented.
"Why? Because I'm a noble? I haven't always been one you know. Back when I was a child, my father and I struggled; in fact, we were dirt poor. We came to this place regularly when I was a kid. Myrah over there was my first."
"Your first?!" Damien exclaimed, glancing back at the fifty-year-old woman.
"Her tits weren't as saggy back then," Edmond chuckled. "My father worked hard to give me this life. Plus, the fact that my mother was a noble helped immensely."
Damien took a sip of his ale. "So, are you ready to talk about what's bothering you? You seemed off from the moment you came back."
"You're very observant; I like that about you. Let's get to the meat of the matter: war is coming, and you have five months to figure out how to be of some use to me."
"A war? With whom?"
"Demi-humans. Those mongrels are sitting on untapped resources that our country needs."
"Ah, so you want them as slaves."
"Partly, yes. But as I said, they're sitting on untapped resources. We could use the land they inhabit."
"I see. And what would I get for helping in this war of yours?"
"Excuse me?"
"We've discussed me working for you, but I haven't heard anything about a paycheck. You don't expect me to risk my life for nothing, do you?"
"I'll pay you when you've earned it. For now, you'll spend the next five months learning all you can from Victor, since you're already proficient with a sword."
"What do you mean? I've only just started my swordsmanship training today."
Edmond sighed.
"It would be far better if you stopped thinking that everyone around you is an idiot. It will only make you look like a fool."
Damien said nothing and quietly took another sip of ale from his mug.
"How did you know I could use a sword?"
"Magic. You underestimate Dunken, that's how. You've yet to grasp the true power of magic. Is it because you don't possess any that you fail to see its extraordinary nature?" Edmond said, his tone condescending.
"Tsk. I don't have any magic. How do you expect me to fight in a battle against mages? We both know a sword isn't going to do jackshit against some who can blast you to pieces from 10 feet away."
"As I said, you have five months to figure out how to be useful in this war. If you can't, then this is where you'll meet your end."
Having found himself in another peril, Damien along with Edmond drank until they were passed out on the filthy floor of the alehouse. The customers cheered and drank along with them, soon they were buying ale for everyone in the alehouse.
Edmond solicited the company of some of the women there but being drunk out of his mind he ended up being robbed out of everything he had. Including his expensive silk breeches, leaving him bottomless for most of the night.
Damien wasn't any better he spent most of the night projectile vomiting onto anyone who got close enough. Which resulted in him getting beaten out of his sense. His body was physically only sixteen years old so his tolerance for alcohol wasn't what it was back in his prime.
Both of them was eventually dragged home by the coachman who remained sober. The coachman was kind enough to give Edmond his own pants so that the young Mrs wouldn't think he'd been up to anything nefarious.