Chapter 168: House building II
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"You will take a cart," Elena repeated.
Sekhmet did not argue again. He had already lost the breakfast war. He was not going to lose the transportation war too.
"Elena," Sekhmet said instead, shifting to the question that mattered. "Where is Mira now?"
"Mira," Elena replied instantly. "She has been sitting with a notebook as if the notebook owes her money."
Sekhmet nodded. That sounded like Mira.
"And the twins," Sekhmet asked.
Elena continued, "They have asked for training."
Sekhmet’s eyes narrowed slightly. "Training," he repeated.
Elena nodded. "They asked what weapon training Dawn House provides," she said. "I told them we provide broom training if they touch the wrong servants."
Sekhmet blinked once then laughed.
Elena’s face did not change. She had said it completely seriously.
Sekhmet decided not to test whether Elena had actually threatened them with a broom. He suspected she had.
"Good," Sekhmet said.
He turned toward the guest wing.
Mira was easy to find. She was exactly where Elena described: sitting at a small desk, posture straight, notebook open, ink stains faint on her fingers like proof she worked more than she rested.
When Sekhmet entered, Mira rose immediately and bowed, not deeply like a slave, but correctly like someone honoring the contract’s hierarchy.
"Young master," Mira said.
Sekhmet’s eyes flicked to the notebook. "You wake early," he said.
Mira’s mouth tightened slightly, almost a smile. "If someone sells ten years of service, sleeping late would be dishonest," she replied.
Sekhmet studied her for a moment. He liked that answer. It was not flattering. It was practical.
"You are coming with me," Sekhmet said. "We will buy materials."
Mira nodded immediately. "Yes," she replied. "What kind of materials?"
Sekhmet handed her Elena’s list.
Mira scanned it quickly, eyes moving fast, absorbing every line as if memorizing the shape of the words.
"You are building," Mira said, not as a question.
"I am organizing," Sekhmet corrected.
Mira accepted that without argument. "Understood," she replied.
Sekhmet turned and walked back toward the main hall. Mira followed with disciplined steps, not too close, not too far.
Before leaving, Sekhmet paused near the inner storage room, the one that servants rarely entered without permission.
Mira stopped behind him, waiting.
Sekhmet opened the door, stepped inside, and made sure no one else was present.
Then he spoke inside his mind.
Open void land.
The tear appeared in the air, small and controlled. Darkness opened like a mouth that belonged only to him.
Auri stepped out immediately.
She was wrapped in a simple cloak, hood up, wings hidden. She moved with careful silence, eyes scanning the room. She looked like a shadow trying to pretend it was human.
Mira stiffened behind Sekhmet.
Her eyes widened slightly, not in fear, but in surprise.
She had expected servants.
She had expected guards.
She had not expected a cloaked girl to appear out of air as if reality itself owed Sekhmet favors.
Sekhmet’s voice stayed calm.
"Let me introduce her properly. This is Auri," he said. "She is my personal assistant and will assist with shopping."
Mira’s gaze flicked to Sekhmet’s face, trying to measure whether she was allowed to ask questions.
Sekhmet did not invite questions.
Mira did not ask.
She bowed toward Auri instead, careful.
"Auri," Mira said politely.
Auri returned a small bow, controlled. "Mira," she replied, voice quiet.
Sekhmet watched both of them. Mira did not panic. Auri did not show hostility. That was enough for now.
"We go," Sekhmet said.
They left through the side gate of Dawn House, avoiding unnecessary eyes at the main entrance. Two servants followed with a cart and a mule, both servants trained by Elena to pretend nothing unusual ever happened.
Slik City was already alive.
The streets were crowded. Merchants shouted. Beastkin argued with human customers. Someone tried to sell dried fish with the confidence of a man selling treasure. Somewhere nearby, a child screamed for no reason other than being a child.
Auri kept her hood up and walked quietly beside Sekhmet, staying on the side opposite most foot traffic. Mira walked slightly behind Sekhmet, notebook tucked under her arm like a weapon.
They moved toward the building market district.
This part of the city smelled like wood dust, stone powder, and money. Stacks of timber lined alleyways. Nails were sold by weight. Ropes hung like snakes. Cloth merchants displayed thick canvas and waterproof tarps. Stone masons sat like kings behind piles of cut blocks.
Sekhmet did not enjoy shopping.
Lily made shopping feel like war with perfume.
This was different. This was a building.
This was the foundation.
Mira became useful immediately.
She spoke to the merchants with polite firmness, negotiated prices down by pointing out flaws in grain and minor cracks in stone, and kept track of every purchase without needing to ask Sekhmet twice.
Auri watched with quiet interest.
At one point, a merchant tried to overcharge by doubling the price of nails.
Mira simply looked at him and said, "If you cannot count, I can hire a child to count for you."
The merchant sputtered.
Sekhmet almost smiled again.
Auri’s eyes narrowed slightly, like she approved.
They bought timber beams, planks, nails, rope, canvas, basic furniture pieces that could be assembled later, a small iron stove for cooking, and jars for storing supplies. Sekhmet paid without hesitation, because bargaining over every coin was how you exposed weakness. He wanted this done efficiently.
They loaded the cart.
Then they hired additional porters, because Elena’s list had not been modest. Elena did not believe in half measures. Elena believed in building something that could survive a siege.
When everything was ready, they returned toward Dawn House.
On the way back, Auri finally spoke quietly, her voice barely audible under the city noise.
"Master," she said, "you will let me take these inside."
"Yes," Sekhmet replied.
Auri nodded, and for the first time since leaving the void land, her posture eased slightly. She looked almost... excited.
It was not childish excitement.
It was the excitement of someone who had been trapped in empty darkness and was finally being allowed to shape it into something that felt like living.