[i]The next morning...[/i] 

Neil had only caught glimpses of what Calliope had been dealing with. A few serfs in awe here, a military escort there. He knew the local priest had checked her for 'purity' and by whatever standards he held, she had passed. He didn't know the custom or the abilities the Banian priest held. He had chanted before her and thrown some sort of spices in the air, and Neil had to admit he felt a tingle in the on his skin from the religious rites. However, the rapscallion was certain if the woman been examined by an adept of the Mythrim Tethir or a priest of the Trinity, Neil was certain they would be running for their lives about now. Maybe all the people of this land really cared about or were trained to see were magics of a necromantic or lynathropic kind. He didn't think it was good to guess, and he was pretty relieved they hadn't checked him for such things. He wasn't undead as far as he was aware, but he was [i]something[/i] out of the norm. 

The Boyar had moved Calliope and Neil to his estate before sunrise, giving them a small wing in his humble, frontier manor. It wasn't as large as a moderately wealthy merchant's home in Kalx Molaris, but it was a farcry better than the two small rooms they had at the Gilded Bear. The Boyar had smiled when he saw Neil, who was more concerned with Calliope's state of unconsciousness than anything. 

"You are the Gresni who bloodied a few of the men when they tried to hustle the Sybil out." He said, Neil parting some of Calliope's hair out of her face. She was still breathing luckily. "I should reward you as well. You must have a magic cock too. She is still gifted by the Gods after you two have made the beast of two humps." 

"Uh, thank you." Neil told him. "New clothes would work, and some food." 

"All of that and more, my new friend. You are from Sebrovna, yes?" The Boyar asked. He had a large, dull beard contrasted by bright, intelligent eyes. He was swathed in a red cloak that was likely made of cotton that was extremely rare for this side of the world.
 
"She is." 

"It is sad to hear what happened to the town. But favor shined on us, bringing you both here." 

An hour or two later, Neil had eaten and had been gifted new, purple and black clothing. The vest showed more than he would have thought of his upper chest, but the furs draped over his shoulders helped keep him warm. After the aforementioned visitors of soldiers and peasants, he was finally allowed to see the 'glorious boyina' in all of her favored glory. Calliope sat on a chair, like a thone in Neil's eyes, at the center of a room in their new wing. She was covered in mink furs and the same black clothing she had donned a few hours ago. The chair was cushioned, and her hair had been styled, likely at her request, in a highly twisted low bun akin to the style a baroness would wear receiving guests. 

Neil opened the curtain audibly, drawing her attention so she turned and saw him leaning against the wall with an eyebrow cocked and his arms crossed. He wore a deer hide belt that had a script engraving "boytoy" upon its copper buckle in Banian.

"Well your gambit worked. A little dramatic, but I can appreciate that." He quipped, a smile growing on his face despite himself. He's one to be talking, after his own performance. He looked at the empty, fur lined room. It was a meeting chamber, like an office but without a front desk and the chair was raised by a few steps. Talismans hung from the ceilings and the only rooms connected save for the locked door were to lavatories or dressing areas. "So what now? Got something devious or should I wing it wherever we go from here?"