Industrial Mage: Modernizing a Magical World

28 - When R.O.B. Throws A Curve Ball

Author's Note:

Want to read ahead?

Check out Patreon: https://www.patreon.com/itsnectar

Discord: https://discord.gg/d57v5upvcx

---

Rosemary crouched by the well, her basket of freshly gathered herbs nestled in the crook of her arm. The chatter of women and the laughter of children filled the air as she sorted through her latest harvest. She plucked a sprig of lavender, crushing it between her fingers and inhaling deeply, savoring its calming scent.

"Can you believe how much has changed?" one of the women said.

Rosemary's ears pricked up, though she kept her eyes fixed on her task. She knew exactly who they were talking about.

"It's like night and day," another woman agreed. "Remember how it used to be?"

Groans rose from the gathered women.

"How could we forget?" a third woman chimed in. "There was that time he stumbled out of the tavern, drunk as a skunk, and relieved himself on old widow Marta's doorstep!"

Rosemary couldn't hold her tongue any longer. "Pah! That was nothing. What about when he tried to gamble away the town's grain stores? If it weren't for his steward stepping in, we'd all have starved come winter."

The women nodded, their faces grim as they recalled Theodore's past misdeeds.

"And the taxes!" one woman added. "He raised them multiple times since he arrived here."

"Or the time he 'requisitioned' farmer Giles' prize bull for some cockamamie tournament, only to get it killed in the first round?"

The list of past grievances against their baron grew longer with each passing moment. Rosemary listened, her jaw clenched tight. She'd patched up more than a few folks who'd crossed Theodore's path during one of his drunken rampages.

"I swear," Rosemary muttered, "there was a time I'd have gladly slipped some monkshood in his ale and been done with the whole sorry business."

The women gasped.

"Rosemary!" one of them scolded, though there was no real heat in her voice. "You shouldn't say such things. You will be executed if he catches a whiff!"

Rosemary snorted. "Who's jesting? I've got a whole cabinet full of herbs that'd have done the trick. Quick, painless, untraceable..." She trailed off, a wicked grin playing at the corners of her mouth. Well... she might've just done it.

But the bastard didn't die.

In fact, his recent change happened precisely after her little escapade that night in that bar.

How did he survive?

It was one of the greatest mysteries in her life.

The women exchanged glances, a mixture of shock and amusement on their faces. One of them leaned in close, lowering her voice to a conspiratorial whisper.

"Is that why no man in town will court you? They're afraid you'll poison them in their sleep?"

Rosemary laughed and startled a flock of nearby pigeons into flight. "As if I'd waste good poison on the likes of them. Nah, the men 'round here are too scared of a woman who knows her own mind. They can't handle a lass who won't simper and bat her eyelashes at their every word."

The women chuckled, shaking their heads at Rosemary's brash demeanor.

As the laughter died down, a thoughtful look crossed one woman's face. "But it's all so different now, isn't it? Have you seen him lately?"