Jay didn't think carrying him was absolutely necessary—he wasn't going to run off without getting paid, after all, not when the job was done—but Lord Fyre seemed to want to keep him close. It wasn't exactly comfortable (it never was), but Jay could put up with it for a little bit longer given the coin he was earning. Besides, the ground was wet and he didn’t want to get mud on his paws. It was a long walk back to dog services, too, so Jay yawned and accepted the ride.

Even after walking for twenty minutes while carrying Jay (who wasn’t exactly light), Jay could hear steady heartbeats and even breathing. The noble hadn’t even broken into a sweat. That sort of stamina meant he’d actually done the military training rather than taking the ‘noble’ route of bribing his instructors. Jay had to respect him a little bit for that.

"How long do we have the dog?" Lord Fyre asked. The sudden shift from the pleased, idle fingers running through his fur caught Jay's attention and he realized Captain Barkley was now walking beside them. Jay looked out around the cloak Lord Fyre was wearing to see the street and caught sight of the polished houses and orderly gardens of the Upper Inner city. They’d be back at the mansion soon.

"The contract is until lunch," answered Captain Barkley. "I'm sure we could arrange longer if needed." His answer was a grumble, irritation seeping through his voice. Lord Fyre hadn't given any details of the meeting to the man as they walked back to the manor. Lord Fyre hadn’t said anything at all. Jay wasn’t sure if they were normally this quiet or if it was a sign of something else. He wasn’t sure who had decided on the pub for the meeting but it wasn’t exactly private. Jay was pretty sure no one walking by would be able to overhear what they said, and it wasn’t like the rat king was going to keep the rumor mill down.

It’d be easier to put the rat in a dress and pass him off as a princess than to keep his mouth shut.

Jay yawned again as silence overtook the pair again. He kept his nose poked out of the fabric so he could take in where they were, and this time actually noticed when they passed through the back gates and greeted the guards. He saw the training fields (and the recruit that slipped in the mud and fell on his back), and what he assumed were dorms. A storage shed. Another gate before entering the manor proper.

Lord Fyre's manor wasn't anything like Jay expected. Now that he wasn't shaking in his fur wondering just who had hired him, Jay could take in more of the details. The walls weren't the cold stone blocks used by the wealthy; instead, they were covered by thick and expensive tapestries with a lifetime of work woven into the threads. Even without knowing much about art Jay could tell they were masterpieces. There wasn't a single portrait of a long-dead ancestor staring down at visitors with judging eyes, and there weren't curio cabinets and side tables filled with silver and gold trinkets to show off the family wealth. What furniture did litter the hallway all seemed to have a purpose.

Instead of a cold fortress they walked into a stone building and Jay saw walls covered with warm woods, and their footfalls were cushioned by rugs that looked soft and plush, though plain. More functional than decorative. The paintings on the walls were of the great protectors. Mythical beasts and great mages from epic battles long in the past played out their triumph on canvas in bright, vibrant colors. Expensive, yes, but showcasing the skills of their nation rather than family pride. He wasn't being stared at while great-great-something or other dared him to steal delicate gold candlesticks.

"Until lunch should be fine for now. I need to do some tests, then we might invite him to return,” Lord Fyre said from seemingly nowhere.

Apparently Barkley was surprised too. “Tests on the dog?”

Jay's attention snapped from the awe-inspiring paintings to the noble carrying him as soon as the words hit his ears. Absolute horror filled his belly, and he thought he would be sick. The whine that slipped out was as much fear as a cry. He'd thought Lord Fyre wasn't one of those wizards, wasn't one to get lost in his research and turn his assistants into experiments. He squirmed, trying to find a way to get loose, but Lord Fyre still held him secure and those arms weren't the weak sticks of a scholar mage. Jay wanted to flee; he didn't sign up for this torture! He was a lap dog, a companion, a comfort! All he gave was innocent company. He didn't want to end up half-bunny, or missing important bits. He wasn't supposed to be part of anything depraved, illicit, or illegal, and tests sounded like all three! Well, except that Lord Fyre was the highest-ranking noble in the city and could probably do whatever he wanted. Illegal probably didn't cross his mind. But it was immoral! Jay wasn’t a good test subject anyway. He wasn’t like other mages!

The hold was secure, and the lord tightened his grip as Jay's nails dug into the noble's skin through his clothes. A new fear swept down his spine: he'd be executed for attacking the White Knight himself. The best he could hope for was to flee, find Ken, and get them both out of the city as soon as possible. He didn't have time to worry about someone seeing him change back into a human or getting any money for the job; he had to save himself. Spots danced in his vision for a moment as his breathing sped up, too dizzy with fear to think rationally, when Lord Fyre's voice demanded in a deep, growling tone: "Enough."

Jay froze. As panicked as he was, that one word held a hint of magic in it that forced his body to still. It wasn't quite the sweet talk of compulsion. It had more of the rigid strength of an order. Jay panted and whined and wished he could speak. He could tell them he had family, that he couldn't risk tests, and beg and plead for their forgiveness.

He almost risked changing back. The only thing stopping him was a lifelong fear his mother had drilled into him when he was young: his magic wasn’t normal.

Abnormal drew the wrong kind of attention.

During Jay’s panic the group had entered a room that was familiar. Some sort of private sitting room with a table, chairs, a fireplace, and two wing-back chairs next to the hearth. It was the same room Barkley had taken Jay to early that morning. There was a small service table by one wall, covered with a long cloth, that now held water and some cups, and a painting of winged horses on the wall. Someone had picked up the towel from earlier and replaced it with dry ones on the table and the leash from Dog Services was next to it.

"Close the door, Captain," Lord Fyre ordered as he set Jay down on the table. His voice didn’t have that edge of magic in it anymore, instead calming to a neutral tone with just an echo of heat. The noble had a firm hold of some of the scruff from Jay's neck so the dog couldn't move. Jay was too old for that bit of skin to support him, but it did keep him in place. Barkley did as the noble commanded and closed the door behind them, then also made sure that the other doors in the room were secure. While he did that Lord Fyre took the towel from the table and used it to dry Jay’s already dry fur and clean the small bit of dust from his paws.

"You are not to leave this room," Lord Fyre commanded with a bit of a shake of the paw to make sure he had Jay’s attention. "You can wander in here, but you stay here until you calm down."

Jay had been perfectly calm until they started talking about tests! That was something anyone would panic over. Lord Fyre was insane if he thought Jay was going to just sit back and let anyone—even someone as handsome as the White Knight—fool him with a pretty face.

“Damn dog should know his place,” Barkley grumbled.

Jay turned towards Barkley and let out a snapping growl. He knew his place, thank you very much. He was a dog. He was hired for a specific service and it was his role to provide that service to the best of his ability. It was the noble who seemed to forget he wasn’t some toy to be used to test magic!

Lord Fyre laughed before Barkley could scold Jay. “I think the little one has a bit of his spunk back. That’s good. Panic attacks aren’t anything to shrug off, though, so I’m still not letting you leave until I’m sure you aren’t going to fall over and die the minute I let you go.”

Jay sat and cocked his head to the side, not quite sure what the lord meant. He was a little sore, maybe, and trembling a bit, but that wasn’t anything deadly.