Cyrus stumbled out of the room, down and hallway and into a nearby courtyard. He sat himself down in one of benches and tried to clear his head, not to mention getting some much needed, and appreciated, fresh air.
"So, from the sounds of things, you got the job." Cyrus was shaken out of his contemplation with a start at the sound of a familiar voice, when he looked up he saw the guardsman who had let him into the castle and given him the directions to Andaret's room standing over him, looking at him with a mix of what could only be described as sympathy and vague pity.
Cyrus nodded weakly and exhaled, "Yes, I suppose I did..."
The guardsman shifted in his armor, "Look, uh, sorry I didn't warn you before I sent you in there. Most of the folks who aren't from around here though, he don't believe me when we tell them so."
"Wait, so this is a regular thing with her!?" Cyrus shouted in exasperation.
"Oh yes, very regular, almost constant actually, as you'll no doubt soon discover for yourself, if you stay on here that is." The guard replied.
Cyrus groaned, "Don't have much of a choice, I'm locked in via the terms of my contract with the Guild for a minimum duration, if I try to pull out of it before then, well, I'll probably never work in this business again, and I'm not good at much else... But tell me, is it always that... Y'know, that bad?"
"Well, actually." The guard leaned down somewhat close to Cyrus and sniffed the air lightly, prompting him to lean back and throw a confused look back the guard's way, "Actually, it's usually worse. Much worse, in fact, judging by how weak the scent is, I'd say she's running quite low actually, well, low for her."
Cyrus' head sank into his lap, "You mean to tell me that was one of her weaker ones? I'm afraid to ask, but I feel like I have no choice, how bad are they usually?"
The Guard took a deep breath and explained, "Well, on the way into the castle, maybe, if you're astute, you might've noticed the unusually large number of artisans and laborer's and craftsman living within the town walls? Well, they're all here for... Maintenance. You see, there needs to be a full contingent of gardeners and herbalists to replace the plants throughout the castle and it's courtyards that are constantly succumbing to the Princess' emissions."
"Then there's the painters, who have to repaint the walls as the fumes make the paint peel, as well as restore the paintings that are warped and disfigured by the stench. The carpenters keep a fresh stock of new furniture ready to be delivered to the castle at all times, since anything forced to endure the princess' gas for an extended period will eventually rot away to nothing. Beds, sheets, anything with fabric or cushioning seems to last longer, and metal is pretty resilient... But not completely. However, anything made wholly of wood deteriorates rapidly. The Princess never sits within hardwood chairs, because they'd disintegrate underneath her in a matter of hours."
Cyrus simply stared at the guard in awe and disbelief, "No way... There's absolutely no way that some girl's... That she could do that! It's just not possible! Magic is one thing but-"
The guard interrupted, but from his calm demeanor he was clearly used to this reaction, "It's very real, sir, in my time here I've seen more examples of the damage her gas can cause that I care to describe. And what I've told you about is just what the smell can do, as for the force with which it's expelled, well... Now you know why you we have the masons and bricklayers."
Cyrus say back in the bench and stared blankly ahead at the sky, "And I have to be her personal bodyguard... All the horrible things I've stared down in my line of work, and it's a gorgeous princess's ass of all things that has me scared for my life. How am I going to survive this."
The guard cleared his throat, "Well, sir, I have news that's both good and bad in a way... That is to say that you will, in time... Get used to it."
Cyrus looked back dumbfounded, "Get used to it?"
The guard shuffled awkwardly, "Yes, er, the more time you spend around the princess and the more of her... wind you are exposed to, the easier you will find it to tolerate."
Cyrus shook his head, still not entirely believing what he was hearing, "You've gotta be kidding me, what the Hell are you saying, man! There's no way that that encroaching miasma could ever become tolerab-"
"Again, sir, I've seen it happen before. The young Princess Andaret, she goes through bodyguards quickly you see, most of them resign. But not necessarily for the reason you might think. Some of them, yes, they quit early on because he can't put up with the 'occupational hazards' as they were, but the rest? They don't quit because of that, they quit because they have become unfit for bodyguard duty, and their obsession with the princess and her effluence make them a liability to the princess and themselves."
Cryus's face was wrapped in a look of horror, "What are you saying exactly?"
"What I'm saying is don't go into the dungeon, don't follow the princess down there, even if she orders you to, you aren't expected to go with her there, and you will not be punished if you refuse that order. Now, you're not necessarily supposed to know that! But I'm doing you a favor, because you seem an alright sort, and I don't wish to see your mind consumed by the Princess's prodigious rear."
"I don't believe what I've gotten myself involved in. Damn the guild! Someone is getting their ass whooped for this when I get back."
"My advice to you is this, serve the princess until the requirements of your contract are fulfilled, Sir, and then the first moment you can, resign from your post and leave. If you don't, then you may never leave this place." The guard warned Cyrus grimly.
"If all you're saying is true, then what about you guards, then? How come none of you have-"
"Oh, some of us have, but you see, we're not around the princess as much as her dedicated bodyguards, so we're exposed to the gas less, not to mention these helmets serve as something of a filter when the need arises. I'm typically stationed near the front gates, but the guards who watch the dining halls, the gardens, any place that the princess frequents often... Some of them end up almost as bad as the bodyguards who stay too long."
Cyrus collected himself, "I appreciate the warning. What should I do now?"
"Now? I would recommend that you go to your quarters, Sir, and make yourself ready in case the young Princess Andaret has need of your services." With that, the guardsman took his leave of Cyrus, and left him alone with his thoughts. He took a few more minutes to steel himself, before him arose from the bench and found his way to his personal quarters.
His quarters were quite lavish compared to what he was used to, considering that he was typically either sleeping in a barrack, his rather spartan quarter at the Guild, or a tent in the wilderness somewhere. But as nice as the accommodations were, he had to wonder just how much they'd make up for what he was going to have to endure during his time here. His quarters also happened to be directly down the hall from the Princess' chambers, which he had to admit was at least appropriate given that his role as her bodyguard meant he needed to have quick access to the Princess at a moment's notice if the need arose.
Against his better judgement, and his combat instincts, since he knew he should keep himself fresh and ready, he removed the armor he'd arrived in and mounting it on the armor stand conveniently provided for him. Somehow, he figured that he wasn't likely to need it much in "serving" the Princess's needs. He laid himself down on the invited bed, his form practically sinking into the downy mattress. He swore he didn't realize how exhausted he was until just now, maybe the realization of what he was stuck dealing with hadn't quite fully struck him yet.
In that hazy state between being awake and asleep, he wasn't sure if a few minutes or a few hours passed, as it was still just as bright outside his window as when he laid down when he heard a sharp knock on his door, followed by the voice of the Princess ringing out, slightly muffled by the thick wood. "New bodyguard, I have need of your services!"
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