By vren55
When Sheets arrived at her house, a modest, two-story, teal colored house in one of the nicer Canterlot neighbourhoods, she almost cried in relief. Barding had pestered her for the entire walk to her abode, mainly trying to worm her name out of her. When she had deftly deflected his offers of kisses and chances to “see him in action” he had then turned to guessing her name.
“So is this your house, Velvet Vixen?” asked Barding eagerly. His demeanor showed no sign that a hundred or so of his guesses had been rejected.
“Who is Velvet Vixen, Lord Barding?” asked Sheets, barely able to suppress the strain in her voice. Sheets was beginning to realize why so many mares had grown frustrated at Barding so quickly. He was relentless, crass, and while not vain, too eager to make a fool of himself. Before Barding could reply, Sheets trotted forward and unlocked the door to her home.
Well… she couldn’t really call it home. As Sheets lit several of the room’s lamps with her magic, she began to notice the slight sprinkling of dust on the living room chairs and the wooden coffee table. Sighing in slight annoyance, Sheets privately resolved to clean the room up sometime soon.
Then again, there was no rush for Sheets to do so as she didn’t like entertaining guests at her own home. Stallions coming and going from her house were too great a risk, and her house was nowhere near large enough to host any gathering of the necessary prestige.
“Wow. You aren’t here very often, are you?” stated Barding. Sheets glanced reprovingly at the stallion, who coughed as his hoof brushed up a cloud of dust.
“You stay here, and don’t touch anything,” said Sheets before she began to trot up the stairs.
Barding snickered. “Oh? And what if I do?”
From the landing in her staircase, Sheets winked down at Barding. “Then you would have been a bad colt, and bad colts don’t get their desserts.” As she spoke, Sheets stretched her lithe frame across the rail, allowing her dress to ride higher up her flank. Barding’s eyes widened and he promptly sat down on one of the less dusty chairs.
“Good boy,” said Sheets before she gracefully trotted up the stairs and entered her room.
The only room on the top floor aside from its adjoining bathroom, Sheets’s bedroom was the largest in the house. Sheets walked past her medium-sized four-posted bed that took up most of the space in the centre. It was a smaller bed frame than most nobles had, because she rarely used the bed. Also, she was so accustomed to sleeping with a stallion that it was difficult for her to sleep alone on a large mattress.
Standing in front of her walk-in closet, Sheets opened the door to reveal row upon row of perfectly arranged dresses. Most of her dresses were gifts from past customers, whilst others were those she had bought. The styles of clothing varied. Most were Equestrian high-society dresses, but there were several foreign apparels, such as a heavily embroidered yukata from Neighpon with matching ribbon and sashes. She levitated an assortment of these ensembles as well as the two travelling chests that she used for her foreign business ventures. As an afterthought, Sheets took the Neighpon yukata, smiling as she admired its delicate crimson embroidery.
Once she had carefully arranged the dresses in one of her chests, Sheets turned to the chest of drawers beside her bed. From their compartments, Sheets drew an assortment of bed robes, babydoll dresses, lingerie, stockings, and socks. They came in all designs and colors, many of them laced. She put these in a linen bag with a drawstring and into the same chest as her dresses.
A quick trip to her marble and granite bathroom allowed Sheets to retrieve some of her best lotions, oils, and ointments, which she filled up the first chest with. Closing the chest, Sheets locked it and pocketed the key in her purse.
Trotting past the large cheval mirror that stood beside the bed, Sheets reached her mahogany dressing table. The dressing table’s top held several smaller caskets, each magically locked. Sheets levitated several of them and carefully arranged them into her second chest. These were her favorite jewels, ornaments, necklaces, earrings, and bracelets. She had many more, locked in magically sealed strongboxes in the Canterlot Bank, but the accoutrements in these caskets were her favorites.
After choosing her final set of jewelry and taking its respective box, Sheets saw a small, worn, wooden box with an H carved onto it. Sheets was about to shove that casket away but she hesitated and opened it instead, withdrawing a golden pendant and necklace. The pendant was a simple oval plaque engraved with an elegant H that was surrounded by inset opals. Draping the thin golden chain over her neck, Sheets fastened the clasp and walked to the mirror. As she examined herself in the mirror, Sheets raised an eyebrow and smiled contemplatively as she admired how the opals color complemented her eyes.
“Now I remember why I kept it,” said Sheets softly to herself. She replaced the necklace into its box and arranged it among its fellows in the travel chest before heading back to the bathroom to get what most stallions would call “mare things.”
Lord Barding sat still for as long as he could stand. He honestly did, but the stallion couldn’t stop his eyes from roaming over the room. Sleep-deprived as he was, Barding noticed that although his most recent observation was correct, he had missed a few things. Despite the thin layer of dust on some of the tables, the rest of the house was remarkably well-organized and the furnishings were of excellent quality and condition. The round oak dining table, surrounding chairs, and couches were not new, but had not been used often and their ornate carvings denoted their exquisite quality. The kitchen counter had a few scratches here and there, but its polished granite surface glimmered in the dim light.
Curiosity got the better of Barding as he trotted through the kitchen and found the pantry door. Using his hoof to quietly push the door open, he frowned as he examined the contents within. As reflected in the rest of the house, it was well-organized and well-stocked. Curiously, most of the food inside was kept in sealed jars, dried food like preserved apples, raisins, cheeses, nuts, some hay, and oats. There were no fresh vegetables or grass.
“Curious, so she regularly doesn’t return to this house and plans accordingly for it,” concluded Barding. That would make sense. The Veterans Rehabilitation program had previously paired him with prostitutes or courtesans, and since his new partner was also in that line of work, she wouldn’t need to return home at night or use the house for social events.
Except… his new mare had a house, that was fully-stocked and modestly furnished. She had to be one of the higher-end courtesans in order to afford all of this when Equestria’s economy was stagnant.
Closing the door, Barding opened one of the drawers to reveal many sets of neatly arranged silverware. Narrowing his eyes, Barding blinked as he noted the shine and high quality of the utensils. Again, they showed very little use. The strangest thing of all though were that these sets were of several different designs, as if they hadn’t been bought all at once.
“Hmm… were these gifts?”
“Very astute Mr. Messy Mane.”
Barding jumped, slamming the drawer behind him and spinning around.
It was Little Miss Foxface, levitating two heavy travelling chests behind her. Barding grinned as he once again focused on that sexy cream dress, his eyes straining to get a peek at her slender flank just under the hem of the dress. None of his partners had ever been as elegant or as beautiful as this mare.
“I thought I told you to sit down and not to touch anything,” said Miss Foxface, an eyebrow raised.
Barding merely snickered at the mare’s frown and slowly sidled up to her before suddenly raising his hoof to tap the mare on the nose.
“Boop! Touched you!” exclaimed Barding. The mare wrinkled her nowse in disgust. Yep, she was just like the other ones. Pretty little mares that were easily angered and flustered. After all, he had bugged her half to death with questions and guesses for her name. Barding had been quite surprised that they had reached the house without her even batting an eyelid.
However, had just touched her when she had told him not to touch anything, and he had done it with his rather filthy hoof.
The mare frantically wiped away at the smudge on her nose and once it was clean she glared at Barding with daggers in her eyes. The stallion chuckled at that. Mares were so cute when they got angry. Especially when they were as gorgeous as this one.
And then his partner’s slight scowl was suddenly replaced by a wicked grin.
“Is that so? Let me return the favor then…”
Stunned, Barding’s eyes widened as the tall, elegant mare walked forward, her eyes winking seductively behind her long lashes. He grinned eagerly as Foxface tipped his head up with one hoof, her face drawing closer to his. All Barding could see were the gorgeous, regal purple eyes that drew him in.
“Here’s my luggage. You will carry it,” said the mare, and that was all the warning Barding got as he felt the weight of two travelling chests slam onto his back, flattening him to the tiled floor.
Struggling to his hooves, Barding gingerly balanced the two chests on his back, grimacing at the satisfied smile on his partner’s face. “Why do stallions always have to carry the luggage of the mares?” he groaned.
The mare giggled and slowly turned around. Barding’s eyes widened and he gawked as the mare seductively showed her rear to him. He couldn’t see her flanks, but he had a good view to his mare’s long slender legs.
“Because, Mr. Messy Mane, you’re not getting any of this if you don’t carry my luggage,” said Little Miss Foxface, cheekily looking over her shoulder to bat her eyelashes. Barding grinned as his partner trotted to the door of her house, hips swaying just a little bit.
As Barding kept following Little Miss Foxface, he couldn’t help but ponder who exactly was his partner. He had had several other mares assigned to him, but they had nothing on the beauty that was his current partner. Yet, he still didn’t know her name. Her house, seemingly immaculate, only raised more questions about his partner’s unique nature. He never knew what she was thinking; she never reacted to him as he expected. She was a great mystery, a tangled ball of intrigue.
And boy did he like her.
After a long walk through the plain and familiar streets of Canterlot to an area she did not usually visit, Sheets had to resist the temptation to stare at Barding’s house, the place where she would be staying for the next three months.
Frankly, Barding’s home was not a house. It was surrounded by a low brick wall slightly above her head. Barding had opened a locked, iron-barred gate that led into a garden, with a small path made from flagstones that led to the actual house.
The house proper was similar to the country mansions of rural nobility. Its walls were made of sandy-red brick that gave the building an earthy quality. While it was a rather basic rectangular structure of two stories, the house was enclosed by a veranda that surrounded its lower story. In fact the lower floor had many sections where brick wall gave way to wooden sliding doors, all of which were shut. The veranda itself was fitted with a table, chairs, and an outdoor stove, all of which was covered with a wooden roof. On the second story, light-green wooden shutters barred numerous arched- upper story windows. The roof was made of red clay tiles and featured three chimney stacks equally spread out. Off to the side was a smaller hut-like structure, which Sheets assumed were for the servants of the manor.
From these architectural hints, Sheets quickly concluded that the house’s owner had a reasonable amount of wealth and, while he liked his privacy, also liked open air and had a penchant for showing off.
However, what was unique about the house was the immensely tall, circular tower that rose from its centre and into the sky. Made of the same red brick that composed the main house, the tower was capped with a conical clay tile roof. Sheets could spot a balcony near its peak.
“Is that a spelltower?” asked Sheets. She knew it was a spelltower, but she had never seen one at such a close distance. Spelltowers were exclusive to wealthy, extremely skilled spellcasters. They were expensive to construct as they needed very strong materials to do so.
Barding nodded. “Indeed. I conduct all my experiments there.”
“So you’re a mage?” Sheets’s curiosity was very much perked. Mages used to be one of the ruling social groups in the Equestrian political circles. They had been the intelligentsia of Equestria—rich, cultivated, skilled teachers and philosophers.
Sheets had never met or made the acquaintance of any mage since almost all of them had volunteered for service in the Equestrian military. A good fewer of their number had returned.
“Eeyup. One of Canterlot’s best, or so I say,” said Barding, pointing at his cutie mark. Sheets didn’t glance at the stallion’s flank, and instead examined the mark from the corner of her eye. The mark was composed of a full set of silver plate armor wrapped in the bright-yellow glow of magic.
Drawing her full attention back to Barding, Sheets followed the stallion onto the veranda with a bit of hesitation. Barding was quite messy, and it would stand to reason his house was as well. Sheets had seen no sign of that, at least not yet on the exterior of the house.
As Barding opened the door Sheets’s delicate nose caught the whiff of a rotten stench and she groaned internally. Taking in a deep breath, Sheets followed her partner and plunged into the house’s darkness.
Barding’s house was of a rather strange, yet innovative design. The lowermost floor had almost no internal partitions. There was a stone-walled area with a metal door that Sheets assumed to be the pantry, as well as another plaster-walled area with a wooden door, which Sheets guessed to be the ground floor bathroom. Apart from those obstructions, Sheets could see everything in the house, even the tiled kitchen area near a large cooking fireplace that was surrounded by granite-topped kitchen counters with built-in drawers and shelves. The roof appeared to be supported by perfectly spaced out wooden columns. Wondering how anypony could get any privacy here, Sheets noticed a multitude of sliding straw-woven screens set in wood frames that could be maneuvered into place to partition the floor. Right now, they lay next to the staircase led up to an upper-floor balcony. Sheets could just spy the doors that opened up to what she assumed were bedrooms. In the middle of the entire construction was a gigantic, round stone base with a single door. Sheets guessed this led to the tower.
Unfortunately, the interior of the manor was exactly as Sheets had expected—a mess. Sheets cringed at the sight of dusty tables, shelves, and counters, the musky scent in the air, hair all over the floor and furniture. There was some mildew growing on the window frames and the light fixtures in the house were in terrible condition. No. It wasn’t as bad as she had been expecting, but it was certainly not clean. It was as if the whole floor hadn’t even been touched.
“Welcome, to my humble abode,” said Barding, sweeping a forehoof across the room. Sheets sniffed, but kept a straight face as her “partner” dropped her luggage next to the staircase and turned to face her.
Admittedly the house was rather well-designed and far less cramped than Sheets imagined. It was also quite luxurious in its own way. Apart from nouveau-riche design of the house itself, Sheets spied velvet sofas, mahogany-framed lounge chairs, and other pieces of exquisitely crafted furniture that she expected would belong to a noble set around what she believed was a rectangular fire pit, with a smoke catcher above it. This all told Sheets one thing.
Barding was loaded. Yet, where were the servants? Sheets remembered seeing a smaller house outside that could be for a caretaker and his family or a butler living on site. The state of the house suggested otherwise.
“Well? Is it to your liking?” asked Barding, a too-wide smile stretching across his features. Sheets wasn’t sure if the stallion was being sarcastic or not, but she was certainly not appreciating it.
“It is a house that certainly befits a stallion of your stature, Lord Messy,” said Sheets.
“Thank you—” Barding blinked as he put his partner’s teasing smile and the impudent tone of her voice together. The stallion frowned. “It’s not that dirty.”
Sheets raised an eyebrow, the same smile not leaving her features. “Did I say it was dirty?”
Barding opened his mouth for quick quip, but found himself speechless.
“Well… I’m not cleaning it,” said Barding. His chin upturned, he trotted away from Sheets.
“Then I suppose I will stay at my own house,” said Sheets, spinning on her hooves. She grinned as she saw Barding freeze in his tracks. The oddly desperate look on his face was unexpected, however.
“You can’t do that!” protested the stallion, almost charging toward Sheets. Barding stopped just before he reached Sheets, his eyes wide.
Filing away this odd outburst for later thought, Sheets decided it was best to persuade Barding with more “incentives.”
“But Barding, how am I supposed to stay in a house that’s so filthy?” crooned Sheets, sticking out her bottom lip.
The stallion squirmed, his eyes averted. “I’ll do some cleaning later,” he said with a sigh.
“But Barding, the dust will clog my sinuses, stain my fur, and ruin my beautiful figure. I’d never be able to wear my best outfits, show you my neatest tricks—”
“Tricks? What tricks?” asked Barding, his eyebrows shooting up into his mane, his wide eyes staring at Sheets.
“Oh I only wish I could show you, Barding, but until I get settled in, there’s nothing I can do.” Sheets sighed, pursing her lips and opening her eyes into the most forlorn expression she could make. Practice made perfect through seamless timing allowed Sheets to fix Barding with the full brunt of mock sadness and sexy.
As Sheets expected, Barding fell for it. His grimace was replaced by an eager grin that didn’t quite reach the ends of his face, but Sheets supposed there was only so much reluctance he could hide.
“In that case, let’s do this! I’ll fetch the cleaning supplies, you can go to your room and unpack.” Like a pegasus out of the gates, Barding lunged for the kitchen, but Sheets quickly interrupted him.
“Which room are you giving me?” asked Sheets. Before Barding could speak, Sheets cut in with, “I like my privacy.”
Barding looked thoughtful, but didn’t seem too disappointed. “You can take the upstairs master bedroom. I don’t use it anyway.”
“You don’t?” asked Sheets, hiding her surprise.
“Nope. I got my own bed in the mage tower.” Sheets did not notice Barding’s brow furrow and his eyes narrow. “By the way, the tower is off limits at all times.”
Smiling gently, Sheets strutted to Barding’s side. “But don’t you need help cleaning it, Mr. Messy Mane?”
In contrast to his earlier eagerness, Sheets saw Barding’s shoulders stiffen and his jaw tighten.
“No.”
Sheets didn’t bat an eye at Barding’s low tone, though she was incredibly curious as to what lay within the mage tower. Judging by the serious pall that had come over Barding’s features, she decided to refrain from asking.
“Then I will see you soon.”
It wasn’t long before Barding realized he had been suckered. Actually, Barding realized this a short time after he had finished gathering the soap, broom, washbucket, and rags needed to clean his manor.
Raising the frayed end of his broom, Barding did his best to smooth the bristles with his hoof, wincing. His washing equipment hadn’t been used in Celestia knew how long. As he paced through the ground floor of his manor, he gulped.
How in the world had this mare roped him into this? Barding knew that he had cleaned—well, briefly dusted—his house one time after his butler and maid quit. That had been a while ago and by Celestia did his house need a cleaning, but he didn’t know if he could.
Barding blinked as he found himself on the second story, having walked himself up to the door of the master bedroom in his mansion. Not that he needed one, but the builders had insisted they needed to put one.
But past arguments with his builders weren’t on Barding’s mind. He was really wondering why Sheets was taking so long and whether he could persuade her to go easy on the cleaning. Raising a hoof, Barding tapped on the door.
“What is it, Lord Barding?”
“Uhh, Miss…” Barding paused and reflexively pawed at the floor. He still didn’t know the mare’s name! How pathetic was that? “Do you think we can maybe… postpone the cleanup?”
Barding thought he heard a chuckle before his partner’s refined, elegant, and perfectly enunciated voice echoed through the door. “You mean you are having second thoughts about our joint venture in cleaning your manor?”
The stallion blushed. “No! I mean… alright, yes,” he said with a sigh.
This time, Barding heard the mare’s giggle. He stepped back, unsure of what was to come next.
“Well, it’s a good thing I decided to change.” Barding frowned, unsure of what the mare meant, until she opened the door.
Maid Outfit.
Now, maid outfits are actually not that revealing, and this one was no different. Barding could not see the mare’s flank anymore. The two layers of dress and apron partially obscured his partner’s curves and provided a rather solid visual barrier.
The maid outfit is the ultimate tease costume. It hides, but it also reveals. This ensemble was composed of a black dress with short, puffed sleeves, and only slightly draped over her tail. The dress covered most of her flanks, but that and the short sleeves left his partner’s long legs free for him to see. Barding knew that he would have a great view if she bent over. Over the dress, the mare wore a white apron edged with lace frills, attached to her waist by means of thick white ribbons roped into an elegant bow. A white lace headpiece that barely tamed her luscious red mane revealed just a little more of her beautiful face. On her neck, just below her chin, she wore a black ribbon choker edged with white lace and inset with a black rose pendant, contrasting nicely with the periwinkle fur of her long neck.
Barding stared at his grinning partner, speechless. His mind at a loss, unable to comprehend the sheer sexiness of the mare in front of him. A mare who was slowly swaggering up to him.
“Well, Mister Barding, are you ready to work?”
Barding nodded vigorously, no more regrets in his mind.
“Excellent, then let’s get started.”
Cloth, mop, and broom in hoof, the pair worked their way through the house with their various cleaning implements. And for a while, the pair worked rather diligently at the task. Sheets gave stern but clear instructions to Barding, who was so enthralled by the dress and the occasional batting of her lashes that he obeyed them without hesitation. The master bedroom and adjoined washroom where Sheets was staying was soon clean as a whistle, along with the upstairs smoking room and guest rooms. They were also making rather good progress through the lower floors.
The seductive power of Sheets’s outfit didn’t stop Barding from making up nicknames and fashioning a limitless amount of over-flattering phrases. Sheets ignored them for the most part with a pert smile, but it there was a tightness in her jaw. Every time Barding spoke, her eyes narrowed very slightly.
“Can Ms. Beauty pass me the towel?”
“Lady Periwinkle has outdone herself again! My shelf is as shining as her eyes!”
“My Darling Red, I do believe my mother is your only rival in cleaning!”
If Barding only complimented Sheets, she would have been able to deal with it easily. No matter how badly they were worded, compliments were compliments and Sheets adored praise of any form. But the stallion, whether intentionally or not, seemed to have a knack at getting under her fur.
“If a clean surface meant you love me, we would already be married with several foals by tomorrow.”
Nevermind, he had to be doing it intentionally. “Why is this stallion being so annoying?” wondered Sheets as she stood on the kitchen counter to wipe away at one of the higher shelves. He was actually beginning to try her patience. While she believed she could put up with him today, what about tomorrow? And why was he being so persistent? If she was going to have any chance of simply staying with this stallion, she was going to have to force him to respect her or identify the root of the problem. Until then, she would have to endure as she always had done.
Meanwhile, Barding was getting bored and rather tired. After cleaning the house, he was exhausted, not to mention thirsty from his numerous attempts to guess his partner’s name and get a rise out of her. He really quite enjoyed seeing the elegant, but slightly forced smile that the mare made every time he made an outlandish comment. However, she was not giving him any attention and doing her utmost best to ignore him.
But while watching the mare wipe his shelves, Barding had a sudden idea. Trotting forward a bit, Barding lowered his head almost to the floor. As he found his prize, the stallion grinned. From his position on the floor, Barding had a clear glimpse up Sheets’s dress, so he could admire the mare’s slender flanks.
It was then that Barding noticed the image of a red fan emblazoned on the mare’s flanks. Her cutie mark. He had no idea what it represented, but given that most ponies’ names were similar to their cutie marks...
“I will never get bored of watching you clean my shelf, Crimson Fan.”
He grinned as the mare stiffened and her ears flicked up.
The mare turned to Barding, revealing narrowed eyes and lips pressed into a thin line. At least, they were for a moment, before her lips reformed into a devilish smile and her eyes began to dance vindictively.
Barding’s jaw fell agape as Little Miss Foxface stepped down and sashayed toward him, swinging her hips and tail. It wasn’t forced like the attempts of other mares—it was a serene, almost natural strut. Her swan-like neck arched down toward him, as she winked playfully.
“My name, Mr. Messy Mane, is Winding Sheets. And you’ve been a really bad pony. Do you what bad ponies need, Mr. Messy Mane?” asked Winding Sheets, a bit of a pout in her tone.
“A kiss?” asked Barding. He immediately puckered his lips and started to stand up, but to his surprise, he found a hoof on his shoulder. He saw her beautiful, dainty face drawing closer and closer.
Barding’s grin widened. He thrust his head forward and kissed thin air. Sheets, like a ballerina, had gracefully moved her head sideways. He had missed, but their heads were beside each other and she was so near him. He could see the dust and the detail on her maid outfit, smell her exotic, complex perfume, and feel her warm, measured breaths on his ear.
“Bad ponies need to be shown their place,” rasped Sheets. That was the only warning Barding got before she pushed him away and buried him with the entire pile of dirty rags.
“This is getting old!” groaned Barding, scrambling out from the pile of rags. Sheets was already trotting away, her tail swishing from side to side.
After the sun had set and cleaning of the house completed, dinner was silent and brief. Sheets had made a small salad from Barding’s limited stores, but when the two ate, Barding hadn’t said a word, completely engrossed in the food. He finished his meal quickly, thanked her, and then told her he would be using the bathroom upstairs in his tower.
Sheets wasn’t sure what brought this change. Barding had been pestering her nonstop the entire morning and afternoon, but suddenly he seemed to want solace. The break wasn’t something Sheets was going to question, so she returned to her room for some clothes and had a nice, long bath in Barding’s newly cleaned bathtub.
When Sheets came out again, clothed in a pink satin nightrobe, there was no sign of Barding on the ground floor or the second floor. Wondering where the stallion was, Sheets trotted to the tower and examined the door to it.
The single door, an old wooden thing, was heavily reinforced by strips of iron. Gently, Sheets turned the single brass knob and found the door was unlocked. Her curiosity drawing her onward, Sheets opened the door to reveal a dark set of stairs. An oil lamp was set on the bottom of the floor, with a dust ring indicating that its brother had been taken upstairs.
Sheets recalled Barding’s earlier order. She also remembered the serious tone in which he had given that statement. Normally, Sheets would just leave it at that. No courtesan wanted to annoy her client after all.
However, this wasn’t any normal job. As Scarlet told her, he was supposed to listen to her, not the other way around. Barding could order her however he wanted to, but she was going to find out just what was he so intent on hiding. Also, after the headaches he had given her the entire day, Sheets wanted to annoy him, at least just a little.
Using a flame spell, Sheets lit the oil lamp and began to ascend the stairs. It was a minute or so before she reached a small hatch. Opening it, Sheets stepped into the tower’s first room.
This room was a bathroom, which was rather filthy. Sheets groaned at the soap scum coating the brass bathtub and the dirty towels and laundry lumped to one side. Apart from the poor state of the bathroom, Sheets noticed nothing of particular interest, so she strode over the tiled floor to the staircase running up into the ceiling of the bathroom. Striding up the steps, Sheets paused for a moment before the final hatch before pushing it open.
As her head poked above the floor of the roof, Sheets found herself entranced. The room’s walls were filled with shelves that sagged under the weight of books, old scrolls, strangely shaped vials, pieces of metal, knickknacks, and other things which she did not know the name for. Each of these items were polished, in well-worn but otherwise in pristine condition. As a pony who liked rare, expensive objects, valuable books included, Sheets couldn’t help but find herself captivated by this treasure trove.
“What are you doing here?”
Sheets looked toward the centre of the room, which was taken up by a solidly built worktable that was considerably stained, scarred, and buried by notes, diagrams, and what looked like several samples of dead butterflies. Beyond the table, on a four-poster bed, was a shocked and rather flushed Barding, an empty wine bottle in his hoof.
“Oh, I was wondering where you were, Mr. Messy Mane. I didn’t realize you had such an interesting hideout,” said Sheets, trotting into the room.
“Uhhh, thank you… But, uhh… there’s nothing interesting here. Most of it’s mumbo-jumbo you wouldn’t even understand.” Barding chuckled, a weak and forced smile on his features. Sheets’s eyes narrowed very slightly at the strange, uncertain tone in Barding’s voice, but she didn’t think too much of it. She was too engrossed in skimming over the scrolls laid out on the table.
“Really Barding? This stuff is fascinating.”
Sheets wasn’t lying. She liked to think of herself as knowledgeable and well-read. Whenever she wasn’t attending balls, parties, or entertaining clients, Sheets liked to engross herself in a good book. It took her mind off things and she adored impressing ponies with her intelligence.
The work that was on the notes… Barding wasn’t lying when he said he was a mage. These were incredibly detailed spell diagrams with calculations that rivaled in complexity to some of Starswirl’s treatises. Sheets couldn’t understand most of them, but what she could understand amazed her with their innovation and skill.
“They’re just… failed experiments. Look, can you please leave, Sheets?” said Barding, his eyebrows knitting together.
Sheets barely heard Barding, so absorbed by the diagram on the page she was holding. It appeared to depict the formula and details regarding some sort of shield spell.
“Is this a shield spell? I have never seen something so complicated or so detailed. Why didn’t you show me this earlier, Mr. Messy Mane?” Sheets shot Barding a brief grin, honestly admiring her partner’s work.
Which was why Sheets was completely caught off-guard by a spinning book that nearly smacked her in the head.
Sheets bit back a scream as she spun around and backed away from an advancing Barding. His hooves thudded loudly against the wooden floor, his lips twisted in a snarl. His bright eyes were now dark, glowering, striking terror into the mare like a dark shadow.
But at the same time, these eyes arrested her in place.
Barding was crying. His teeth gnashed in anguish as tears poured down his face. His body trembled as if they were standing in a blizzard. He looked so dangerous, and yet at the same time, so… sad.
Something that was not a good thing, as Barding didn’t stop coming forward.
“Why didn’t I show you this earlier? Why didn’t I show you this earlier? Because it failed! I tried to save my friends, my fellow mages, my classmates for five years, and that spell failed because I messed it up! That’s why I didn’t show you earlier!”
Sheets eyes widened in shock, and she would have felt sympathetic, had Barding’s rage-filled eyes not shook her to the core.
“And what did I tell you about this tower? It’s forbidden! F-O-R-B-I-D-D-E-N. FORBIDDEN!” Barding’s snarl warped into a disdainful sneer that Sheets thought seemed to be directed to himself as well as her. “But oh no, you were too curious about what was in here, weren’t you? You had to look. Well, now you’ve seen it!”
It was then that Barding shut his eyes for a moment, before he leveled a glare so intense that Sheets took a step back.
“All that’s here is a fucking failure and the evidence to prove it. Now, get out of here before I throw you off the top of this tower!”
Sheets swallowed. She wanted to flee, to run away, but the last vestiges of her pride and her stubbornness refused to let her. With a supreme effort of control, she managed to relax her facial muscles, though her jaw remained clenched and her tail swished nervously. But she did not run. She had never ran from an angry client. She had soothed them, calmed them down, even dodged the odd blow, but she never fled. She would not run from this one.
So she curtsied, her head bowing low, her hooves crossing over one another as she bent down, and rose again. Barding continued to glare at her, but he remained motionless, except for the heavy exhale and inhale of his breathing.
“If that is your wish, Barding, then I will take my leave,” said Sheets softly. She then turned around and exited the room, leaving nearly as gracefully as she had entered it.
It was a front. It was all a bloody front. Sheets realized it as she stormed into her bedroom and locked the door, pushing her front hooves against them. There was a hoarse, rasping sound that continued to ring as she leaned against the wooden barrier and it took a moment before she realized it was her own breath.
The stallion was a bleeding wreck. How stupid was she to forget that this stallion was a trained war mage and that he had serious issues that even Scarlet, one of her contemporaries who was skilled in comforting stallions, could not help him with! His obnoxiousness, his stupid fake smile—it all made perfect, horrible sense now. He probably had been distracted by her, enraptured with her presence. So he had contented himself with going after her, projecting over-exaggerated confidence to try to gain her favor, but also to hide his own temper, his grief. All she had to do was push the right button and it would come out like a berserk dragon from its cave.
And she had nearly ended up as ashes.
Why in Celestia’s name did she accept this contract? Right, she had no choice. She needed that Golden Ticket. But now that she thought about it, perhaps it was a better idea to give up and leave Canterlot altogether. She had skills, she had money, and she had experience. She could rebuild her life somewhere else. Not Baltimare. Cloudsdale wasn’t an option. Manehattan appeared to be the most viable choice. Yes, that wasn’t a great plan, but it would have to do.
However, Sheets didn’t move for her yet-to-be-fully-unpacked suitcase. She put her hooves back on the floor and closed her eyes in an attempt to block out the image of Barding’s face, so filled with grief and anguish. It didn’t work, for she could not forget his sadness and rage.
Try as she might, Sheets couldn’t completely harden her heart to Barding’s plight or bring herself to leave. Her pride as the top courtesan in Canterlot demanded that she should at least try rehabilitating this stallion. Besides, she had never left an unsatisfied client, regardless of sexual contact, and she never ran from a contract, no matter how challenging it was.
Sheets pursed her lips contemplatively as she considered Barding’s actions during the day. This stallion… he wasn’t that bad. He was annoying, but he at least occasionally listened to her, unlike some other stallions. With the right push and enough effort, she could have him cleaned up, wrapped around her hoof, and add another benefactor to her list. One that would be completely loyal to her.
She did have to admit that she did feel sorry for Barding and that was not such a minor part in making her stay.
Shoving those thoughts aside,, Sheets made her decision and went to the bathroom to brush up for bed. The unicorn knew she had a long series of days ahead of her and she needed her beauty rest to tackle tomorrow’s challenge.
As soon as the hatch swung shut, Barding turned on his hooves, made his way to his bedside dresser, and opened the cabinet door. Inside was a bottle of wine, which he picked up with his hoof and, using his teeth, yanked the cork out. Lifting the bottle to his lips, Barding chugged the bottle of wine, not even bothering to taste the vintage.
He drank the alcohol too quickly and choked. Forced to shove the bottle on the table and bang on his chest, Barding glared at the night sky.
What Sheets hadn’t quite noticed in her brief purview of his quarters was his skylight—a square glass window on the side of his conical tower that let in the moonlight. It was through this window that he gazed.
For a long, silent moment, Barding was immersed in his own musings. Gradually the anger dissipated from his mind, leaving an empty, hollow feeling in his chest.
“Dangit Barding, you messed up again.” Barding groaned to himself. Picking up the wine bottle, Barding glared at the moon again. “A beautiful mare helps you clean your house, makes you dinner, was actually curious about what you did for a living, and you drive her out. You bleeding genius.” Barding took another drink from his bottle and slowly trotted to the narrow window of his tower.
“She’s probably gone. I nearly buried Clover’s Elemental Transfiguration Volume… whatsit in her head after all,” said Barding, watching the path from his manor home to his wall gate.
The path was empty. Barding blinked, rubbed his eyes, and stared at the path. Nopony was there. She hadn’t left. Why in Tartarus hadn’t she left? He had nearly gave her a concussion. In his fury, he had threatened to throw her off the top of his tower. The first mare would have galloped away screaming willy-nilly. The second mare probably would have wet herself. The third mare had called him a barbarian and left in a huff when he lost his temper.
This latest mare… she had to be leaving. She had to be packing… but if that was the case…
Barding surged to his hooves, feeling a bit light-headed as he ran toward the floor hatch. He tore down the stairs of his tower faster than he had ever done before. He ran back up the ground-floor stairs and paused in front of Sheets’s room, just to catch his breath. After he was ready to speak, Barding knocked on the door.
It took a moment, but the door opened to reveal Sheets, dressed in her pink, satin bedrobe. Now that he wasn’t focused on getting her out of his tower, Barding found himself eying how the robe clung to Sheets’s slender frame, showed off her long, elegant neck, and revealed just a bit of the soft fur on her chest.
“I’m sorry,” blurted Barding as he met Sheets’s eyes, only to avert them again.
He didn’t notice that Sheets’s eyes widened briefly in surprise before she narrowed them again. Sheets refrained from saying anything and her features remained calm and serene.
Taking her silence as a sign that he should continue, Barding swallowed and looked up again.
“You are… the most beautiful, most refined mare that has ever graced my manor and I have acted in a manner completely undeserving of your presence. I was… Barding bit his lip “An arse.”
Sheets arched a perfectly shaped eyebrow. “I acted nothing like a noble should and you put up with me anyway. No mare has done that or given me even that chance. So… thank you.”
Sheets blinked. She hadn’t expected that from Barding, and she liked the fact that Barding was admitting his bad behaviour and apologizing for it. Still, the mare wanted an explanation for his earlier behaviour.
“You threw a book at my head,” said Sheets.
Barding paled, opened his mouth, and shut it tightly, the struggle clear in his features. He had lost his temper and nearly knocked his partner out. And the last few mares… he hadn’t exactly kept them out of danger either. But this mare… Winding Sheets. She wasn’t nicer to him, but she didn’t treat him like the others. She didn’t deserve to get hurt trying to help a lost cause like himself.
“I know and I don’t want you to leave, but…” Barding swallowed and looked Sheets in the eye.
“As you know, it’s not safe for you for you to be around me.” Barding closed his eyes and grit his teeth as he forced the words past the block in his throat. “So I won’t stop you.” The stallion’s head drooped to the floor, his eyes downcast as he waited for the inevitable pronouncement.
“Luckily for you, Mr. Messy Mane, I’ve always liked a challenge. So I am not going to leave you, yet.”
Barding’s head shot back up and he stared at Sheets in disbelief. This mare… She was going to stay with him? After all the crap he put her through? Despite the fact he very nearly injured her? Was this a cruel joke?
Yet, as Barding took in the beautifully coy smile and sparkling indigo eyes, he realized she wasn’t joking. This gorgeous mare… Winding Sheets… she really was going to try to help him. Barding wasn’t sure how long it had been since he had felt so relieved, and… happy.
“But if you don’t want to change my mind, don’t even think about sleeping in the same room as me,” added Sheets.
“Awww,” Barding said with a petulant groan.
Sheets giggled and began to close the door. “Good night, Mr. Messy Mane.”
Barding grinned. “Good night, my lady.”