He'd overstepped his bounds. If the gasps from those who overheard his words weren't enough to make that obvious, there was also the Lord General's formidable scowl. One didn't insinuate a lord was a shitty father. Hector took note of that in case he survived long enough to benefit from the wisdom he'd just acquired.

Zara appeared as if by magic and placed a restraining hand on her father. She offered no words, but the looming figure of Thrakkar backed off just a hair. "You think I should disrespect the achievement of my daughter? She is a lord. With all that such status entails. We stand above all of existence. Propping up a lord would make them no lord at all. Just some fool with a level ten soul. My daughter is no false lord, dreamer."

"She's more of a lord than most I've met," Hector said. His tone held none of the humility he thought he'd put into it. Rather it sounded like he was suggesting Thrakkar was less a lord.

The Lord General turned his attention to Zara. "I will forget this incident. He drank too much."

"Thank you, father."

"If you intend to keep him around for long, teach him some discretion."

Zara cocked her head to the side. "I will make a special effort."

Thrakkar moved away to socialize with members of his retinue. Perry quickly had the Lord General laughing at some quip. Which gave Zara the distraction she needed to pass Hector over to Dorian with instructions to put him to bed before he stirred up any more trouble.

Dorian got Hector as far as the sitting room before giving up his task. The two of them sat on sofas and opened a bottle of wine. The morose man offered some unsolicited advice. "You should watch your words around here."

"Here meaning Zara's estate or Tian in general?"

Dorian made an expansive gesture with his hand. Hector took that to mean 'both'. The two of them sipped at their wine for a time, slipping further into drunkenness.

"He never even looked at me," Dorian finally spat.

"Who?"

"My father. The tyrant of my youth."

Hector had to squint to see the other man past the haze of alcohol. "Did you want him to interact with you?"

"Of course I didn't. But to not even look my way. He always knew how to cut deep."

After an awkward silence, Hector cleared his throat. "I'm sorry you have a shit dad."

Footsteps preceded Zara into the room. "The two of you failed your mission to find beds, I see." She studied the opened bottle a moment before filling a third glass.

Dorian gestured at Hector. "What is your father like?"

"Dead."

"I see." Dorian looked up at the ceiling as he pondered what, to Hector's sensibilities, was a quite mundane revelation. "Is that a happy thing for you?"

Hector shook his head. "Quite the opposite. My father was a good man. I wish I had half his strength of character."

"A shame our fortunes can't be reversed. Mine dead and yours alive."

"Hush, Dorian," Zara chided. "Best to let old wounds be."

The silence descended once more, broken only when Dorian began to snore.

Zara held out her hand. "Up, Hector. I'm not going to carry the both of you."

He accepted the help standing, then let her keep the grip as they began walking through the manor house. It brought back memories of being at the brothel with Riley, when she would hold his hand while escorting him. Which was not where he wanted his mind going in the presence of a lord, no matter how inebriated the two of them may be. He decided it would be appropriate to talk about something else.

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"I think your father almost killed me tonight."

"He spared you because he made certain assumptions about your status in my household. I let those assumptions stand uncorrected for your sake."

That was almost exactly the opposite direction he'd been trying to steer the conversation. "Sorry I provoked him. Too much drinking, right?"

They had reached the guest room. Zara guided him to the bed, still holding his hand, and sat with him. "I appreciate that you cared enough to say something, Hector. But don't ever fight my battles for me. I'm no damsel to be rescued. I'm a lord and you are no match for the opponents I face."

"I didn't realize Thrakkar Shaocheth was your opponent."

Zara sighed and released his hand. Hector felt a tension between them fade. "I love my father, Hector. Even knowing what he is. I heard you tell Dorian that yours was a good man. I envy you that. My two elder brothers were forced to become soldiers at fifteen. Neither lived to be sixteen."

Her voice grew softer. "Worse than that happened. Enemies of my father came looking for him while he was away. Mother lowered me from the window and had me hide in the bushes. I listened to them slaughter her. At the time, I was ten years old. My many younger half-siblings idolize everything about father. I have a clearer view of his flaws."

"I'm sorry, Zara." Maybe he should have left it at that. He didn't. "He's wrong to think respecting your autonomy requires cutting off all support."

"You cannot continue to think that way if you intend to remain on Tian, Hector. This is a world where the strong dictate reality. Lords don't need to work together like the Jinn. Or pander to our supporters like Arahant leaders. A society where gods walk among men cannot be a fair one. I will leave you now. My servants are few, so try not to get sick on the linens. Tomorrow is a rest day. The day after, we attend the monthly Zing auction."

He didn't remember falling asleep that night. He did remember waking the next morning in horror at the harsh daylight streaming through the window. A dozen promises were made to never drink again. The hangover faded over the next few hours as his body enhancement dealt with the consequences of his excess the night before.

Despite the misery, it wasn't all bad news. Due to the alcohol Hector had a solid boost to his soul reserves compared to the previous day. He was closing in on fifty percent. Apparently all he had to do was consume enough Tian spirits to kill even the most experienced alcoholic from Earth and then ride out the subsequent hangover.

When he felt up to it, Hector emerged from the bedroom to seek water. A servant showed him to the kitchen, where he hydrated and then ate bread one nibble at a time to settle his stomach. Then he stationed himself in the sitting room for hours of chaos cultivation.

"I envy that insight."

Hector took in Zara. "You seem less impacted than I was by the festivities."

"I have a few levels on you in body enhancement. And doubtless more practice. Spirits are my primary method of replenishing cosmic energy. Elixirs at the lord level are extremely expensive."

"You'll have a chance to stock up on them tomorrow," Hector said.

Zara laughed. "The auction will indeed have Amarat style elixirs. I won't purchase something at this auction that I could acquire locally."

"Are there going to be things there that you can't get your hands on normally? I know your funds were limited before, but with the Emperor's reward money can't you travel to the source for any resource you might want?"

"Do you think high level resources are freely traded? No, Hector. They always have a jealous owner who refuses trade beyond their closest allies. A random lord showing up to do business would be interpreted as an attack. Even the Lord Platinum doesn't freely trade with foreign nations. The monthly Zing auction is popular because the Emperor personally guarantees the event. Violence, threats, theft, or even minor misbehavior results in a permanent ban."

"Good. I wouldn't mind having a safe trip for once."

Zara nodded in agreement. "I'm going to have you work with Dorian on your etiquette. Your memories of the traitor haven't been nearly so useful as I imagined they would be. For all the bad things I say about Harridan, he at least knew how comport himself."

Hours of mock social interactions followed, with Dorian acting the part of a variety of individuals. Hector didn't think the lessons necessary at first, but soon they veered into territory Volithur never encountered. The decorum of Zing cultivators made their Amaratti counterparts look positively relaxed in comparison. Especially challenging was knowing the status of someone else in relation to yourself. The social calculus involved was beyond anything Hector could ever find reasonable. In addition to soul level, they also considered age, lineage, sect, career, and connections.

"How am I supposed to know all this information about everyone I meet?"

Dorian snapped his fingers. "Exactly! You won't know all these details. So what do you do?"

Hector blinked. "Obviously I treat everyone like they are a superior until I know otherwise. Why didn't you just tell me that?"

Dorian scratched his chin in a mockery of confusion. "Wow. I don't know, Hector. Maybe because you start pissing matches with lords?"

That was fair. He'd angered the Lord General on two separate occasions. Even having a head full of Amaratti etiquette from Volithur's experiences didn't help. The memories came from a teen boy turned enslaved war orphan. Hector might know all the same lessons, but his instincts didn't work the same. Even with the years that had passed since he quit his job, Hector still remained the man who was in charge. His self-image had shifted some since then, but he couldn't get in the mindset of a true subordinate.

"I won't even speak the language there, so surely I can't get into too much trouble."

Dorian did not look convinced by that logic.

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