"And for you, Mr. Fieraru. The coin we owe."
Irina handed him a purse of money and frowned as he took it and gave it a shake. The total amount was there; she counted it twice. Said man nodded his head, satisfied.
"Can't be too trusting," he mentioned as he noticed her pursed lips.
She sighed. Who was she to be annoyed?
"You're right," she agreed.
Standing up, Irina dusted her cloak and stretched her back. The widow Mrs. Moraru was nice enough to allow her a place on her porch to sit as she paid the families of the young men who came to the factory. Mr. Fieraru was the last – thank goodness.
He shoved the purse into his pocket and cleared his throat.
"And the boy," he mentioned. "How is he fairing?"
Irina narrowed her eyes. "Lord Heisenberg has no complaints."
He rarely spoke of them. Irina was sure that once he tore them apart and rebuilt them, Heisenberg forgot who they used to be; the young men were no longer human to him but a soldier in his patchwork army.
Mr. Fieraru grinned. "That's good to hear."
But it wasn't. Irina sighed.
"I have errands to run, sir. But in a week, I will return," she mentioned.
Stepping down from the porch, Irina gave him a wave, turning towards the reservoir, but a voice called out to her. She turned and noticed a young village boy waving her down; his mother followed close behind him. Once he caught up, the child smiled up at her. In his hand, he carried a wooden goat.
"This is for you," he said as he offered the toy to Irina.
Her face heated up as she took it. Why was the child gifting her this?
The boy's mother narrowed her eyes in guilt. "We're sorry, but he was adamant about giving it to you."
Irina stared at the toy; it was well made.
"His father is a carpenter," the woman mentioned. "We heard about what you have been doing for the families around here, and we wanted to give you something in return to thank you."
Irina frowned. She didn't deserve a present; she deserved to be punished.
"I don't know––"
"Please accept it," the woman implored. "It's all we have."
She clutched it in her hand and sighed. "Thank you."
"May it serve to protect you," the mother stated.
She took her boy by the hand and led him away. Irina watched them withdraw into their house; she sighed and exited the village, heading towards the reservoir.
Once she got there, she met the Duke outside near the carriage. Some of the knickknacks were packed in boxes outside, waiting for her to move them.
"Good afternoon, Duke."
He grinned. "It's always a pleasure to see you, my dear. How are you?"
"I'm here," Irina stated.
She didn't rest well last night. Her mind was engaged, and by the time she fell asleep, it was far too late for her to get a good night's rest. She was exhausted.
The Duke hummed. "Take care of yourself, Irina."
"I intend to," she assured him.
Trekking to the back of the carriage, Irina leaned down and picked up a box. She had a lot of work to do.
"Where are we moving to?"
The Duke grinned. "To Castle Dimitrescu. I have business with the proprietor."
Lady Dimitrescu? Irina wondered what kind of woman she was.
She got back to work loading the boxes. A good part of the day was sapped storing the merchandise, and once Irina was done, she got into the carriage, and the Duke took them to the castle. From there, he and Irina brought the boxes into the castle, unloading them in a lavish room in the foyer. The Duke took a seat behind a table and directed Irina on where to put the knickknacks. Everything she sat out was well-designed and most likely cost more than she could afford.
"Excellent," the Duke chirped. "Well done, my dear. You may rest while we wait."
Irina hummed and took a seat at the table where she sat the typewriter. Across from her was a castle model sitting on top of a familiar ossuary; the remains were a bright red.
"I saw an ossuary like this in Lord Heisenberg's factory. Is there a story behind it?"
The Duke laughed. "Everything precious has a story. You see, a craftsman named Norshteyn created this labyrinth and three more like it. He was said to be a heretic and took his own life upon their completion. The remains you see inside belong to one of four wives; the labyrinths are their graves."
"How tragic," Irina uttered.
The Duke hummed. "Perhaps, but I assure you, those skulls are valuable."
He's so bad, she thought with a grin.
Taking out a pocket watch from his breast pocket, he hummed.
"It's about time," he mentioned. "Take the small chest on the table here and come stand near me."
Irina stood and did as the Duke asked, carrying an embellished box in her hand as she stood to the side near him.
"Present the item to Lady Dimitrescu when I prompt you to and remember not to speak," the Duke explained.
She nodded in agreement, listening as heavy footsteps approached. The door came open seconds later as a very tall yet beautiful woman in an elegant white dress walked in, having to lean down to get under the door frame.
"Lady Dimitrescu, you're looking ravishing today," the Duke declared.
Her pale lips pinched into a grin. "You humor me. Am I to assume you brought what I requested?"
"Of course," he answered back. "My companion will attend to you."
Irina opened the chest and raised it towards her.
Lady Dimitrescu took out a gold tube of handcrafted lipstick and applied it in the mirror on the inside of the chest. Pursing her lips, she hummed.
"It was worth the wait."
The Duke grinned. "And such a lovely hue. It suits you."
She put the tube back into the chest and laid some coins on the desk in front of the Duke.
"Is there anything else you are interested in? My wares are forever open to you," he mentioned.
Lady Dimitrescu narrowed her sharp eyes, staring at Irina.
"And her? Is she on the market?"
The Duke laughed. "For you, My Lady, anything."
Irina narrowed her eyes. Was he serious?
"But unfortunately, Cornută is not for sale," he said with a sigh. "Please understand, My Lady. Good help is hard to find."
Lady Dimitrescu hummed. "It is indeed."
She took the chest from Irina and eyed her a moment before turning her attention to the Duke.
"If you should change your mind," she said with a grin.
Irina knew what she was indicating.
"You will be the first to know," the Duke agreed.
Soon after, she left.
Irina took an uneasy breath.
"Would you have let her buy me?"
He hummed. "Business is business."
She snorted.
The Duke was such an unusual man.
"How's the hand?" Heisenberg asked upon hearing the door come open.
Irina grunted and flexed the mentioned limb as she strolled into the bedroom.
"It's OK," she answered back. "But I feel like shit."
Her body ached. The strange thing was her hand felt fine; no discomfort or constraint.
Heisenberg sat down his portable welder and looked at her; Irina was a mess.
"How unfortunate," he mentioned. "Anyway, I created several new gadgets today. These new soldiers are better than the previous ones."
Irina rolled her eyes.
How lucky she was to have him.
"Come and see," he said with a grin.
She groaned and tossed her mask and the wooden goat onto the mattress.
Heisenberg noticed her hesitancy and narrowed his eyes.
"Move your ass," he ordered.
Irina ambled over to the workbench and observed the new inventions. His ideas were becoming more and more accurate since the bodies became more frequent.
She would be in awe if the core of his creations weren't human.
"I made the helmet for the Jet Soldat earlier," Heisenberg mentioned.
He's like a kid.
Irina snorted. "Do you want a pat on the back?"
"If you want me to break your fucking hand," he snarled.
A wave of dizziness poured over her, and for a moment, she could hear a faint voice.
Or perhaps her mind was playing tricks on her.
Her name came clear as crystal in her ears, and she came to; her eyes focused on the pair in front of her.
"What in the hell is wrong with you?" Heisenberg asked.
He gripped her upper arm tightly.
Irina shook her head. "I'm not sure."
Fatigue or perhaps stress.
"You're a fucking mess," he snorted. "Go to bed."
Irina nodded in agreement. "Will you lie down with me? Please."
Heisenberg buried his fingers in her hair and pulled her head back.
"You're a saint, darling."
Irina frowned. She didn't feel much like a saint, though she had to admit, his words roused a feeling of comfort in her.
Leaning forward, she pressed her eager mouth against his.
Perhaps she just needed to blow off a little steam.