Server Lost 23 『Pure Morning』

Ivan Carmichael opened his eyes, seeing his wife laying beside him. A small smile dotted across his lips before he sat up. In a long white nightgown, he slipped from his feathered mattress of a bed and stood onto the carpet.

His eyes hazily gazed over the room as they adjusted to the light.

For the first time in a long time, he felt free and empowered. much like he had felt in his youth.

The world around him was seemingly so vibrant.

"My Lord!... Good Morning~" One of the young servants dressed in ragged apparel entered the room, starting out loud, only to whisper in the end seeing that the Lady of the Lord was still sleeping.

"Morning Sven," The Lord said as he walked over towards his morning coat and tucked it over his gown, only to pause for a moment. "Isn't it Oresday?"

"Y-yes My Lord, why do you ask?" Sven was a young man with dirty blonde cut down to an inch in length, dark blue eyes and thin brows which he was now furrowing at his lord.

"Isn't Helena supposed to be serving me this morning?" He asked as he raised a brow at the young man, wondering why a different servant was in his room this morning.

"Ah.. Helena is sick this day, My Lord. I am covering in for her."

Raising his head a pitch, the old man would nod to the younger servant who seemed to be in a somewhat panicky state when he had asked the question. "You're lucky I am in a good mood this morning... Have you seen my daughter yet?"

"No my Lord, she has yet to leave her tower."

"I see..." He squinted his eyes slightly at Sven for a moment before walking over to the drawer and pulling out a pair of tights. "Help me with these would you, boy?"

"Yes sir..." The young man said with a muted tone, of course, not to wake the woman in the bed. He made his way over to his lord and helped him with his pants.

Once Ivan's pants were firmly pulled into place, the man removed his coat and gown, before pulling the coat back over himself and handing the boy his gown.

Nodding as he took the laundry from the room, Sven would walk out of the room, quickly disappearing down the hall towards the servants quarters where he was to wash the clothes.

Dressed in his tights and his coat which he belted closed over his torso, the man would then pull on a pair of stale leather boots over his bare feet. Clapping the wooden soles on the floor of the bedroom, he nodded to himself rea.s.suringly before making his way out of the master chambers.

When he made it to the corridor overlooking the outside of the Palace, his gaze narrowed on the sun which had since risen from the West. It was clear he was late to wake, and he let out a sigh.

It was almost noon.

With great stride, her made his way towards the door leading out to the tower belonging to his daughter onto to pause seeing the latch. It had been locked? He stared at the door before unlatching it and opening it, gazing across the narrow bridge to the tower.

He didn't see any evidence of someone trying to get in from the other side, and raised a brow.

"My daughter couldn't have locked the door from the outside," Scratching at his chiseled beard, the man strode on over to the other end and pressed his hand against his daughter's door.
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Once he was inside the first door, he slipped his leather boots off and rested them by the door. A grin form over his lips as he rolled his toes on the cold tiled floor before turning his gaze to the partially open door leading into her chambers.

Blinking a few times, he quickly padded his feet up the steps and peered in through the crack between the door and its frame. His eyes rested on two shapes on the bed, hidden partially beneath the quilt. Squinting his eyes, straining them until he could make out the back of Jack's head, his body tensed quickly.

Pulling this door open, Lord Ivan stumbled into the room with wide eyes.

Yet as he was making the distance from the door to the bed, he began to slow down his approach, his eyes drifting to the gown on the ground. It was the blue nightgown his daughter had been wearing the night before.

He swallowed the saliva in his mouth shallowly, anxious to take in the scene. Walking around the bed, to the foot of it, his eyes rested upon the two whom presided on the mattress.

Jack's right arm was under her pet.i.te form, sticking out from beneath her lower back as if it had once grasped it with his hand, as she was turned to meet him. His other hand was tangled in her hair, as it if had been tenderly caressing the side of her face.

They were covered in morning sweat from the quilt which covered them from the waists down. The sensual scent that came from them was confusing, especially for the Lord of the City.

Slowly he reached out to place his hand on his daughter's shoulder to gently nudge her, shake her even. When he did so, all she did was groan slightly, tightening her eyes at the contact.

Jack's eyes fluttered open as he saw the light around him flicker from the Lord's recent movements and the sound of Ca.s.sandra's groan. His eyes quickly locked on the old man and a small smug smirk appeared across his lips. "Morning Carmichael."

"J-Jack, what're you doing in my daughter's bed?" Carmichael felt like he was tripping over words all over again as he had done last night when he had first met the revered being. Yet now he was in his daughter's bed!

That smug look though, reminded him of a scheming devil.

"She invited me," Jack said as he c.o.c.ked his head to the side, like an innocent pigeon, not quite knowing what he had gotten into. Of course, that was completely contrast to his previous expression that he wore like a mask.

Carmichael balled his hands into fists as his eyes drifted to his sleeping daughter who was burying her face in Jack's chest which was shallowly concave (indented).

Anger didn't seem to even breach his surface, as he could see her soft smile painted across her little lips.

The Lord could see his daughter was happy in the Angel's arms, her skin s.h.i.+ning in the near-noon sun which danced in through the colored hex patterned gla.s.s windows of her room.

He was pretty sure if his daughter had slept with anyone except for Jack at this point prior to marriage, he'd beat her. Maybe even kill her in the false sense of honor that came with their way of life.

The thought lingered in his mind.

Suddenly, without warning, he asked a question which had now just risen to his mind, one which seemed to be his obsession. "Is she t-to marry you then?"

"No, she doesn't want to get married," Jack blatantly responded, his hand moving down into her bloomers and lightly cupping her rear. Feeling its flat and soft flesh.

Ca.s.sandra let out a quiet moan before partially opening her eyes, looking up at Jack feeling his hands on her a.s.s. "Hm?" She was hardly registering what was going on, until she rolled over, his hand traveling right between her legs as she faced the other way.

Not only did she tense when she saw her father looking down at her, but she tensed even more feeling his fingers on her mute lips down below. "Father!" Her face was becoming extremely red, "Good morning!" She quickly drew the quilt up quickly quite a bit more, covering her exposed b.r.e.a.s.t.s, her thighs squeezing Jack's hand between them to silence the movement of his fingers.

Ivan stared at his daughter as she was covering herself, her legs s.h.i.+fting under the blanket. He quickly turned away, his finger nails digging into the palms of his balled up hands. He closed his eyes, he could feel the heat of anger returning quickly, but it faded again soon after.

'Its Jack,' is the words he inaudibly murmured to himself, 'He will bring favor to this house...'

"Father?" Ca.s.sandra blinked a few times seeing his face turn red like a tomato, it was as if steam was going to come shooting out of his nose and ears for a moment there.

"Yes, Darling?" Carmichael was quick to put a smile on his face and a polite tone of voice as he returned his attention to his daughter, clearly conflicted on how he felt about all this.

Ca.s.sandra's eyes narrowed on her father, "Can… can you leave so we can get dressed?"

"At once!" The Lord announced with a chuckle, almost a hardy laugh, "I'll summon the--"

"Nnnnno ne-need Father!" Ca.s.sandra groaned, "Jack can dress me." She scrunched up her facial muscles, as if to look cross at him for not leaving right away. "We'll meet you for breakfast in the dining hall..."

"Yes.. Yes..." Ivan took a step back, "Of course, haha.." Awkwardly the father went running out of the room, nearly slipping on her satin gown, before darting out the door; closing it behind himself.

The moment he was gone, Ca.s.sandra went to sit up, only for Jack to pull her back down by her hair, causing her to squeak in surprise. "H-Mmmmm!!!" She couldn't even yell at him as his lips crashed against hers without mercy or the least bit of remorse. "NnnnMmmm!"

She could feel his hand's long minions resume movement, even with her thighs clamped down on them. The way he was pressing his lips against hers, was absolutely ruthless. He was hardly giving her a chance to breath.

She felt entirely helpless as his large form s.h.i.+fted over her, blocking out the morning sun.

She reached up and started to smack her hand down on his bare shoulder, it was like hitting a rock.

Even as she brought her legs up to kick him, it was. .h.i.tting a solid bag of sand! He wasn't budging!

The touching, the kissing, the strange feeling that came with it was setting of fear and angst, she pouted against his lips and kept trying to shove him off.

Finally Jack ceased after a few minutes, breaking the kiss with a satisfied look in his eyes, though unlike before his expression was stone cold.

"Rampallion, Villain!" Glaring up at him with eyes set to kill as she panted heavily, she reached up as she slapped him across the face, her hand practically slipping across his face in the process.

Practically ignoring the slap across his face, he blinked at the word she had used. Remembering a play written by Shakespeare, known as Henry the Fourth.

"Says the woman who was trying to seduce me last night like a Clotpole." calling her a very stupid person, he'd slip off of her. Soon enough he even then left the bed as he had spoiled a good morning, wiping off the fluids from his fingers onto the quilt.

Ca.s.sandra took in a slow inhale, before letting a sharp exhale all at once, only to sit up and watch as he started picking up his clothes and putting them in his inventory. She groaned inwardly displeased as she swung her legs off the side of the bed, looking to her thighs feeling sticky and disgusting from what he'd done.

Jack glanced over at her as she was looking down at herself, and placed a hand on his hip, his other arm resting at his side. "Want me to conjure a bath?"

Ca.s.sandra immediately looked up at him, looking at him skeptically and a bit cynical.

The two of them just stared at one another until she finally nodded, it was kind've odd since he was standing there without moving like a statue during this duration.

Jack would proceed to cast a series of spells:『Greater Divine Focus』which gave him even further precision when using crafting based spells, coming in the form of a glowing white non-corporeal halo behind his head.『Form Material』to form a metal block, calling in vasts amount of elements from a mystical plane and into their plane of existence.『Grand Fabrication』to bend and mend the material until it was in the shape of a perfect artisan crafted tub.

Of course, while he could have used a more powerful singular spell like Greater Forge Item, but this route was a bit more colorful and used less magic energy.

Once the metal tub was made, he had it melded with the stone slab wedge beneath the flooring before using the 『Create Water』spell to fill the tub, followed by a casting of『Control Temperature』in order to heat the bath.