I reincarnated as the Duke from the North.

A woman screamed. A man whimpered. My officers stood at the back, their young eyes betraying their distress. Kurt was stoic, the perfect soldier. But I dare not look at my friend's face, as I would be easily dissuaded. I must make an impression. Declaration made by my blade. An example needs to be shown to all who reside in my domain that you don't fuck with me.

“Sorry, maid. You just cleaned my sword for me and everything. I apologise.” I said to a maid with auburn hair, scared stiff. “And I made more for you to clean up. A pity. You will be rewarded. You can leave if you wish.” She nodded, staying at her spot.

I smile.

The men and women of Osberg sure are a different breed. What has she seen to make her like this?

I levelled my sword at the treasurer. My grip on my sword quivered. The first time I felt the clash of me and past Tarion. The ever-cautious boy. Afraid to take the big steps. Couldn't even take a step out of his room. All he knows is this castle and his safe, sheltered life. Such a kind, naive soul. Unsuited for this world.

Maybe mine?

Could this be why I am here? To be the Tarion Osberg needs?

I gripped hard on the leather hilt and poked my sword point at the treasurer's wrinkled forehead. Blood dripped on to the treasurer's stubby nose.

What is true in my world is the same in this one. Power is built on the blood of many. Even the title I wielded like a hammer was born from the same system. A system that crushes its people to powder to make the bread they gorge on. But unlike my old world, I have the power to do something for my people. To get results. So If blood needs to flow, I will make it my enemies’.

I raised my blade.

The treasurer's face came into view. Memories flooded in and I blinked, gaining back control of my temper.

Shit... Calm down. Don't get ahead of yourself. One was enough. For now.

“Lord Dunmer. Killing you solves a lot of my problems.”

The treasurer softly cried. Snot and tears ran down his darkened face. Not a word from a man who has given up.

“But your head on a pike would bring more problems as well. Someone as deeply connected and knowledgeable as you cannot be replaced so easily.” I put my sword down, putting up my hand to receive a towel. Wiping off the count's blood from my blade, I sat on the desk.

“When I was young, barely 3 feet, I had a habit of following my father, watching his spars, and peeking into his meetings. Shouting and insults were the norm from his mouth. Other than when you were there.”

Plonk.

Nice.

“Cutting the story short, killing my late father's friend would leave a bad taste in my mouth.”

The treasurer's dead eyes glint with hope.

“But punishment is due.” My blade, clean to a mirror finish, I hand back to the maid. There is a change in her; there is a reverence for me when she bows.

“The dungeon below will be your new home and office until the foreseeable future.” Dunmer bowed deep to the floor, accepting his judgement with gratitude.

He is different from the philandering mayor, only a piece in a game of selfish players. If Vanessa could forgive him and turn him right, I could too.

I went around my father's desk and took a hidden loop of keys.

“Guards, escort him to his new abode. Treat him with dignity.” I said, before throwing the keys at a bronze grade.

The office door closed, leaving the room less full. A middle-aged woman cried to herself, sprinkled with a noble’s blood. She saw me let one leave unharmed. But she's not one of them. A noble. Or so she believed with her whole heart.

“The tea.”

She looked up at me, tears streaming down her weathered face. Her eyebrows lifted in confusion. Must she have thought it was medicine like I did?

“Susan, why do you think I brought you here next to criminals?”

Her eyes darted around, trying to find an answer that would best please me.

Before she muttered a word, I paused her with my hand. “Because I thought you had done something worse. Poisoned me.”

Shock drained the life out of her.

“The tea you gave me rendered me useless, a waste. And I would've soon been made a dead man. Fortunately, the land above intervened or you would've been swinging on a tight noose.” as it happened in ‘TAPLM’.

Susan swayed as if she were about to faint. Gears turned in my dumb brain. “A poison that withers you until you are nothing but bone. Do you happen to know where to procure such a poison?”

Susan shook her head. “N-No, your grace. But I know who might. Davis gave me tea bags every week and a whole chest full for when he left.”

Ofcourse…The butler recommended I take the medicine. Poor, naive Tarion, with no one to trust. "Two of you, search my former butler’s room. Bring everything, anything suspicious.”

“Yes, Your Grace!”

The door opened and shut as I walked over to Susan, kneeling near a leaking body. “I apologise, my dear. It seems you have been caught up in a big conspiracy against me.” A fall guy for the main culprit. “Some harm. No Foul. However, I can’t leave you to return to the head maid position. She will- wait what's your name?” I ask the auburn maid.

“Beatrice, your grace.”

“Nice name. You're the head maid now.” Beatrice’s strict and stiff pose, hands on top of each other, falters. The former head maid relaxed. Head maid in training?

“I am in a giving mood today. And for you, Susan. Stay in your room. Food will be delivered to you, as we will still need answers from you. And do not run, for your own sake. My enemies are thorough. Understand?”

Susan bowed to the floor. “Yes, you grace.” Even with her clothes ruffled and her hair disordered, she exuded the class that a true maid of Greystone should.

“You can leave now.” The last of the guards came to collect Susan before she said a final word.

“Thank you, your grace. Your father would’ve been proud of the man you grew up to be.”

I try to make a smile. “Maybe.”

I nearly killed you, old lady.

I searched in my pocket for my watch. I flipped it open and a family smiled at their happiest.

It's almost five am. Time to train.

“Umm… your grace…” I turn back at Charles, dreading to look at his face. His chubby face was as forgiving as ever. He pointed to the copse below. “This?”

I shrug.

 

Three hours later.

Plonk.

 

Sweat steaming off my body, I place my sword on the weapon rack. To end this very productive day well, I dropped to the ground, sitting cross-legged.

“Watch this.”

The ambient mana I have collected from constant meditation has now reached its limit. It is now time to forge.

Eyes closed, I envision my mana heart. A circle of great light spun around it and a cloud of charged energy waited. I focused, hammering away at the mana. Moulding it to the shape I need. Air pushed and pulled around me, shimmering with my mana leaking. I gritted my teeth, and pain flowed throughout my body as my mana veins expanded and strengthened. One last compression and a burst of mana blew a gust across the master bedroom.

Exhausted, I look over at the silent bodyguard waiting by the door.

“Phew. See, Kurt, not that hard. Now drink the fucking dopping tea.”

 

3 days until Vanessa arrives.