"I dub thee Sir Brad of House Regis," Dame Nyte says, pressing her sword into my shoulder blade. Only a knight can make a knight, after all.

  Reka really loves pageantry like this. What does it matter if I'm "officially" a knight or not? Will it make me a better fighter?

  "-you may rise," she finishes her little speech. Everyone is cheering, so I guess it can't be all bad. My wife, the real master here, embraces me, and that just makes them cheer harder.

  Since Operation Barbecue, I've led several more long-range patrols across our lands. Seems the monsters have finally gotten the message: there's a new sheriff in town, and her name is Reka.

  I notice some new faces in the crowd. They look confused as hell. As far as I know, multiple species interacting in close proximity like this isn't normal down south. At this point, our spider knights aren't scary to me at all, just sisters in arms.

  On our last little foray, we ran into a pack of refugees, half-starved and terrified. Galiban is already working on a plan to settle them in their own village, right next to the small river that runs through Malmark's hinterland. Irrigation is still an issue, so options are limited.

  I'm sore as hell and trying not to show it. Reka is draining me constantly to power our magitek machine shop. We're cracking out ploughs and seed drills and other goodies like crazy to equip the newcomers. Training our new peasants on how to use the stuff is left to others, but only Reka, Galiban, and I are allowed in the machine shop. That guy is actually super cool, if a little stiff. To him, Reka is basically a goddess, and I'm a goddess's husband. Getting our butler to loosen up has been a heck of a challenge.

  "So, feel like a knight yet?" Alice asks me.

  After the public ceremony, the high-ranking people leave to mingle in Reka's ballroom, a more intimate setting than the great hall. There are drinks and finger foods, along with some modern music playing on my computer.

  The blonde Arachne has been my close companion and second-in-command for all our monster suppression operations; I couldn't do it without her.

  "I guess," I answer uncertainly, taking another sip of beer. Spider-girls are really hilarious drunks, by the way. Alice is nursing hers, determined not to embarrass herself again.

  "You're a better fighter than any man I've ever heard of," she says with surprising sincerity. Maybe she's been drinking more than I thought?

  "You ever fought men before?" I ask. "Men" here means "humans". Males of other species usually aren't called "men".

  "Not me. Big sis Nyte did, in the war. The Elves used Men and Dwarves as meat shields, even some tame orcs. Then once we were committed, they'd hit us with their magic and knights. Elves play dirty, and like to let other people do the dirty work."

  Huh, interesting. "What was the war even about?"

  Nobody ever really filled me in on the details.

  Reka interrupts before Alice can answer. "Another time perhaps, dear Alice."

  Boo. Just when the conversation was getting interesting. I love history! I love lore! There's not even a single book on the war in our library...

  "But Reka..." I complain.

  "But nothing. It's past time we prepare for the journey ahead."

  I realize she's talking to both of us. "Even Alice?"

  She nods firmly, making Alice gape in surprise. "A party of adventurers will attract less attention. You two fight well together, so the decision was obvious."

  "But what about..." Alice gestures to her spider lower body.

  Reka blinks. "Oh, right. I'd quite forgotten. Metamorpheia," she intones, waving a hand carelessly.

  You might be reading a stolen copy. Visit Royal Road for the authentic version.

  A blanket of pink light, quite similar to Reka's magical girl transformation, wraps itself around Alice's spider parts. They shrink and deform until-

  "Eek!" Alice trips over her own feet, her own two feet, and falls on her very human backside.

  "No one will suspect anything." Reka sounds so pleased with herself, Alice, on the other hand...

  She tries and fails to stand under her own power not once, but twice. Taking pity on her, Reka and I each grab an arm and help her to her feet.

  "How can you even function with only two legs?" she moans, and nearly falls again, forcing us to hold her upright.

  "You've got three days to get used to it, dear Alice," Reka says imperiously, brooking no disagreement.

  Poor Alice!

  ***

  "Hey, honey, where are your glasses?" I ask Reka on the road. When she takes them off, it usually means, well, you know.

  "Such an extravagant display of wealth would attract attention, dearest, and attention is precisely what we don't want, not until we've made a name for ourselves as adventurers."

  "You mean, you don't need them to see?"

  "Of course not, Brad. My eyes are keener than any eagle's."

  "Then why?" I ask, quite puzzled. She's been wearing glasses as long as I've known her.

  "Why, wearing expensive glass over one's eyes in that manner, could you imagine a bigger, how do you say, flex? Glass is expensive, you know. There's a reason only our bedchamber and solar have glass windows. The rest of Malmark makes do without."

  Two years into our relationship, almost three counting our time in the new world, and she's only telling me this now? Unbelievable.

  Void and Backshot, our two horses, are left behind at Malmark Castle. Galiban assured me they'd get plenty of playtime and exercise, but it's still sad to leave them behind. Miss you, buddy!

  We're riding in a wagon, thankfully not a bumpy ride since Reka sprang for a leaf spring suspension. Our supply of high-quality steel is limited, so ours is the only one so equipped. There's a fishing village on the coast three days to the west, less than a day now. We'll get there by tomorrow.

  The rest of the wagon train carries trade goods meant for markets in the south: pig leather in abundance, worked metal goods, vessels of pewter and silver, and ingots of copper, among other metals. Once we cleared out the goblin infestation, the mountain range to the north proved rich in ore. Improving agriculture to the point where we can transition some of our people to mining and industry is a big priority, now starting to pay off.

  My fingers worry at the black chainmail shirt I'm wearing. "I wish we could bring my plate armor."

  Reka rests a gloved hand on my shoulder and gives me a sympathetic look. "Next time, my love. Explaining that manner of wealth would be difficult."

  "Is that why you're dressed like Robin Hood?" I ask.

  "A ranger, Brad," she corrects me. Reka wears a leather tunic, a pointed hat with a feather in it, and has a quiver of arrows hanging from her belt, all in the purple-and-silver color scheme of House Regis. "None must know I can do magic. Such is the province of Elven scholars, and close do they guard their secrets. Think of this as an operation to gather intelligence. All we know of Elberetheia is the complaints of illiterate ploughmen who wander into our lands."

  "Right, right. I can keep the story straight. I'm the second son of a human noble, turned adventurer to carve out an inheritance of my own. You're the daughter of a merchant house I married, and Alice is my sworn shield-maiden and protector."

  "Just so. That story will explain our apparent wealth. No one will inquire too closely since trained fighters are so rare. There will be work aplenty for us, I expect."

  The road ahead of us is raised but only half-paved. Work crews will finish it after the spring planting, most likely.

  Masts from three ships are the first thing we spot the next day. Humans and Dwaves busy themselves with unloading bushels of wheat, casks of wine, and other goods we can't produce ourselves while filling their holds with the merchandise of Malmark.

  Reka books passage for us on the largest vessel, a four-masted carrack, or whatever it's called in this world. We'll be getting our own cabin and everything, real VIP treatment.

  "And remember," she tells the master of the ship, "revealing where you obtained these goods will not bode well for our continued commerce."

  The captain treats her warning with the gravity it deserves, bowing and scraping before my wife. He's surprisingly young, with a bright yellow coat and a clean-shaven face. I don't trust him, but I trust the greed in his eyes. Reka can make things no one else can, so if he wants to keep doing business, he'd better be on his best behavior.

  It's another two days before we're ready to depart. Loading everything takes a while, and the master insists on waiting for the wind to change. In the meantime, Alice and I spar a bit, just for exercise.

  "Having two legs sucks," she says after I knock her on her ass for the tenth time.

  "You're getting better." I try to be encouraging.

  "Easy for you to say. You've had a whole lifetime to adjust to your disability."

  I snort. "Was that a joke?"

  Her only reply is a little smirk. I lose control and start laughing uproariously. Pretty soon, Reka is laughing too. Watch out, Elberetheia, here we come!

  Alice in human form

  Reka in ranger form

  This is a tentative map of the continent they are on.