Vanessa

A few hours before the party, a father, woken from his spar, healed and revitalised from my holy power, asked his daughter for a moment together. As Jen was preparing my gown, and went elsewhere with Susan, father and daughter enjoyed tea on the bedroom balcony. The sun set with a warm orange glow, flocks of birds flew to the nest, ready for a day's rest, and I tried to calm an angry heart.

"Mmm…" My father placed his hot tea down. "No one has gotten it quite right since you left."

"Since I was sent away. And of course, they wouldn't, I gave them the wrong recipe. I wasn't treated the best by your employees." I noted, taking a sip of my tea as well.

He looked away, "I will admit, I had been lax-"

"Lax!?" I stopped myself before I started screaming. "For a while, I thought it was punishment, penance for entering your lives, disturbing the little peace your family had…"

"No, daughter-"

"I tried my hardest to change that. To not be a burden after what happened at school…"

Tea clanked on the table, "Burden! Don't ever say such a word! You never were and never will be! I didn't spend so much gold because-"

"Ahh…there it is." Interrupted the sputtering man. "Your seed has bloomed into a large, bountiful tree."

"Vanessa…" he reached out to hold my hand. I let him. "You misunderstand!"

"Misunderstood what, father? You left us with rats and fleas, letting mother meet horrible people like yourself."

Gripping my hand tight, my father twisted. "I didn't… I didn't know it… I sent money! How would I know her pimp would take it each and every time… But I found you…"

I shook my head, "Yet I never saw even your shadow. Just a chest of gold and jewels."

Sebastian's head hung in shame. Eyes darken under orange light. Feeling my father's trembling hand, I took time to recollect myself.

"…Shall I say more?" I asked.

"No." He sighed. "I know how foolish I have been." Lifting his head, tears pool around his wrinkled eyes. "I am so sorry, Vanessa…"

I looked away, gazing at the horizon. What a beautiful end to the day.

"I loved this family." My father said. "They were who I spent my youth killing for, and who I spent adult years earning for. But I strayed… I was always at fault, but I am never regretful. From that temptation was born a heaven-sent gift, and you became part of the family too. I knew you wouldn't be accepted, so I used it as an excuse to not take responsibility. I wanted to pretend the family I had loved was still whole. Forgetting I was the one who broke this family to begin with. I was a bloody coward!"

"You were," I said.

He agreed with a nod. "When I heard news of your expulsion, I thought it was only right that I take responsibility now before it's too late." Vomit-inducing memories tried to escape the room I trapped them in. I slammed it shut, fastening it tight with extra locks. A different time and a different me.

"Still too hard to talk… I see…" Birds swooped through clouds in mass, changing shape like a floating drop of water. "What a view you gained." The flock dropped down, swerving above the rooftop of the city we claimed. From this castle balcony, the city's beauty is displayed in its full glory.

"It was a throw in the dark, but sending you to the young master was the best decision I have ever made. A young man with a bright head on his shoulders wields power that can make a pope hesitate."

"Pope?" I leaned to listen for info on this alluding man was short.

When asked about a future gone past, the pope was the one person Haru hated more than Kyros. When she was kept captive, he was her regular guard. Masked in a ceremonial headdress, the anonymous pope would stare at her without saying a thing for years. Stories such as this were too many that I was grateful I didn't take Haru's memories in the end. The pope in the timeline had been recently appointed. From what Zeb had told me, he is quite a controversial figure known to be rather conservative compared to the moderate cardinal in limiting the amount of healing water each priest could give free to the public and increasing rates. He sent out a letter to churches across the country, and further to let in fewer patients and search for more talent. Tarion and I thought that man could be building up for something. Could he be a man from a different time? The party was to be a place to help figure him out.

My father sighed; his proud face showed anger. "Tas."

All eight circles exploded, whirling in my chest like a hurricane. Hands were pulled. Tea, Tables and chairs flew away from rage. "Where?" Mana rose from my skin. "WHERE?!"

Strong arms wrapped around me, and like a cold rain on a burning bush, my anger was extinguished. "T-Tarion…I…" My tears fell on my lover's chest while he hugged me.

"It will be okay. Tas will be dealt with." I heard his soft voice through his humming heart.

"How do you…"

"Here." Using his tethers, he brought back the chairs, tables and tea cups that flew off the balcony. Another tether poured tea. "Take a seat, please. Your father has to explain."

"It was all him? HIM?!" My head fell into my hands. Of course, it was him. It made total sense. I am the one who got away.

"A lot of weirdos in this world, but this takes the absolute piss-take," Tarion spoke, standing behind. His hands reassure me on my shoulders. "To take an obsession to this level. Who would waste this much time and resources?"

"A fucking Mad Man!" my father ran out of his chair in anger. "I could do anything. He had too much power even then and now…"

"And religion follows his order." Tarion finished his sentence. "Me and the old man are thinking of ending him. What do you say?"

Ending him? Tas? The spectre of y life. I felt he was immortal for he will never leave me alone, of when the continents change shape. And we fucking invited him!

"Damnit!" I slammed my fist on the table, cracking its stone.

"Vanessa." I turned to see my man bent low, hand in hand with me. "I am serious. On the first night of my 23rd year, if you wish, his head shall hang on the side as a prize to you."

The beast of Osberg meant it. He wants it.

I wish it more than anything.

I shook my head. "You must have something smarter than murdering a pope in our house."

Tarion cackled with his maniacal but childish laugh. "Of course, of course! Remember that perfect priest. Teb."

I asked, "Zeb."

"Ah, Zeb the wanker, yeah. Time to use your asset."

Flowing royal blue dress curving around me, I felt my man kiss my shoulder.

"Beautiful. You truly are. I should go to more parties just to see you like this." Tarion said with his eyes on my displayed bosom.

"Not the jealous type?" We locked arms, greeting Vioden guards along the way.

"Of course I am. A woman like you makes it impossible not to be. Doesn't mean you shouldn't look splendid."

"Is that why you still stare down men who come to speak to me?" A turn of the corner, we hear the chatter grow in loudness.

"To keep these young soldiers on their tiptoes. Dangers always lurking."

"Haha." The crowd also laughed from the other side of the wall. "Your brother sure is working the audience. They seem to love him."

"Of course, they love him. The only heir to the old regime. They are hedging their bets. Play nice with him; they can enter my circle. And if they succeed in my fall, they 'picked' the right horse."

I sighed. "Politics… You think he will make an appearance."

"It's a possibility. Too maybe noble bastards in a single room, A daggerfellow dream. I am tempted too..." Just in front of the throne room, as we waited for them to call our names, I leaned on his thick shoulder.

"Happy birthday."

The boyish smile I loved returned.

"ENTERING…DUKE AND DUCHESS GREYSTONE. RULERS OF THE NEW UNITED DUCHY OF OSBERG AND VIODEN!"

A wave of his hand forced the door open to the ear-deafening cheer of many drunk men, and Tarion gave me a wink.

"Let's have fun, everyone! The best wine is on the birthday boy, hehe!"

Tarion

"I must ask your grace!" A well-to-do merchant with only a tuft of brown hair squeezed through the growing audience. I swig down a good amount of alcohol. "Is it true that you aim to increase wages for the serfs?" I placed down an empty cup, requesting more with a hand wave. "Are you questioning me on my flipping birthday? While I am drunk as hell?"

"No, Your Grace! I dare not! I… We, the sellers, must work out how much loss we are expected to have, you see."

"None." I folded my legs, leaning in my chair. My right hand interlocked with my love; an empty hand grabbed a full cup. I felt her stare. She squeezed tightly on my fingers, and I gave back the ale I thirsted for.

"I can assure you, prices will not increase."

I burped.

"For now." The merchant grew pale in my presence. "Only the landlord's share of the profits. And as the only landlord, I decide how much I earn." Nobles peeked at each other around my table. Do they find it perplexing that a noble such as I can have enough? "Don't worry your fat faces. A little reordering here and there, and you will not feel any difference at all." Even with its vast resources and gold, after a month of inspections, my men had surmised that 50% of all spending was wasted on the former duke's projects. And the pot of gold with some overflow for me. I can believe these meek men were the ones making my nights aassassin spree.

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"You see, Gentlemen, although our work here is just, we are new, untrustworthy owners. Wolfburns were brutal and cold, but the farmers expected and endured such and kept to themselves. Why? Because the Wolfburn 'protected them'. Which you know is a falsehood." The nobles agree with an assortment of huffs and grunts. So it's this language they understand.

"So men," I look upon the minor lords, heeding words like a prophet. "I can only ask that you keep your towns safe. Any word, any missing person and any scuffles, report it immediately to me and my people. To keep this Duchy's bounty full and gold dripping, I will not let these beasts suck the lifeblood from our country again."

"Yes, Grace!" Merchants and lords stand at attention like soldiers. Encouraged by my words, the lords and merchants leave with a bow to discuss further. But with a lazy finger, I pointed at the vocal merchant to stay.

"Lord Colson."

Like a mouse under a cat's gaze, he was petrified. "H-h-h-how do you know my name?!"

"Of course I would know you!" My wife told me your name fifteen minutes ago. A tether made from my wife's mana pulled out a chair for the merchant to sit. She placed the same drink I ordered for him to sip nervously.

"Owner and manager of a Sol trading company, A specialist in road and sea trade. You are also known to travel along with caravans. Admirable. I have got too used to flying. Horse-drawn carriages would bore me to death."

"It's nothing admirable, my liege!" Colson said after a sip of ale for confidence. "Just part of the job."

"I like that… 'Part of the Job.'" I looked over to my wife. "Yeah, he seems alright." Hands still, locked like knotted branches, I kissed her fingers as I let go.

"Jen", I called out while sitting up in my carved chair. Jen popped up to my left. Still a bit pissed that I brought her best friend to a battlefield; her stay here and dates with Kurt improved our rapport. Jen still doesn't know about Vanessa. And Vanessa still wants it that way. I asked her why, and with a troubled face, she glanced away and said. "She's my only friend."

"Get them ready," I whispered in the wind to Jen's ear. Her standoffish attitude disappeared, and the grinning redhead ran to finish her job. As my wife was busy with business, I entertained myself with the party festivities from the acrobatics and exotic dances of the Alarian dance troupe to the world-famous travelling musicians, the Maolae Orchestra, who cancelled all the previous shows to give me a birthday to remember.

Occasionally, brave men and women would summon the courage to come up to me. After finding out that I could hold civil dialogue and could be funny at times, a crowd started forming around me. They asked about my battles; about Pirn, they wondered how I defeated my sickness or if I was even unwell. I could answer these to some extent. But other questions…

I knew of my status. But only I understood it abstractly. War was on my mind. Venessa was in my heart. They had my full attention. However, what the rumours of divorce had brought was a type of fame I couldn't care for. In the month since, I had been harassed daily with proposals by mail, messenger and even fathers themselves. Now the ladies have come in person, wearing the fluffiest, enticing clothes with bosoms displayed like peacocks dancing for their mate. Pretty as they are to look at, all I was reminded of was the fun my love and I had in the closet as the servants cleaned our rooms. The slow rhythm as we kept as quiet as possible…

A tanned young girl held my arm.

"SOPHIE!" A suffering father pulled his daughter off me. "I AM SORRY!! YOUR GRACE–"

I held him before he knelt. "Not at my fucking birthday, man…" I turned to the girl who looked at me like I was an angel fallen. She looked no more than sixteen years old and could be younger with the absurdly childish way she dresses. In such a backwards world, I would not be too old for such an innocent girl.

"I am sure your parents taught you manners," I said. The young girl with chestnut pigtails shouted. "Will the duchess be your mistress?!"

HUH?! I glanced around, and more people were wondering the same thing.

I folded my arms. "Mistress? Who told you of such tales?"

The girl points at her father, whose soul had evaporated. "I was told the church approved of your divorce! But you're still together every single day!" She pouted while trying to grasp my arm again. "They say you two are lovers of a generation. Unseparable! At first, I couldn't handle it! Sent you so many letters, telling you it was a bad idea to let a simple prostitute's child stain the reputation of the Hero of Friedland, but you didn't listen. You didn't listen at all!"

It took all my control to not hit this child upside the head. Hero of Friedland?

The girl tried to grab me again with wide, leering eyes, and I swatted her away like a fly. "Hands off, girl. Mistress or not, it's none of your business."

Like a confused puppy, the mad girl twisted her head in confusion. "My business? Of course it is, dear! We are to be wed!"

Like a gong rang in my mind. Memories flood in.

Ah shit, it's this bitch…

Sophie Galan. The youngest daughter of the Galan ducal house, named after their lands, which were left of the capital. Her obsession with the prince was a plot point that allowed the prince to show how much his love was worth. While stalking him, she would call Kyros, the Hero of Friedland. Did I replace her sweet prince?

I sighed deeply.

I am tired.

Must I act my role again? Pretend in this second vessel that this is my life. I could end months of annoyance with a single mana bullet to her head. Fewer people would be hurt by her antics.

Why

Why must I…

Tarion…? Are you well?" Vanessa asked through our rings.

She is why.

I'm good. I just realised I have a stalker. Noisy girl, she is.

You're lucky. Mine are noisy and tend to kidnap me.

I hid my laughter, noticing everyone staring at me.

"Haha, sorry, this shit is too stupid." I pointed to the exit. "Go home, little child, before I put your servant in a casket for having the gall to bring you near me."

"But my father –" "Go." I gestured for her servant and guards to take her back. Causing a scene like the petulant child she was, she let her mouth cause more problems as she was pulled to the exit.

"She is not worthy of you, Tarion! I will always be waiting for you!!"

The door slammed closed, and only silence from bemused watchers remained.

"Mmm…" I scanned the audience. "Any more crazy girls I need to kick out?" The room burst with laughter, and mirth returned. The girl wasn't finished. She will attack one day. Galen may not be money-rich, but their wealth is loyal connections that only seafaring nobles could only acquire. If she sends that man, all the bull shit will be worth it.

I heard a whiny voice talking and found my awaited visitor chatting with my guest as if the party was his. Swishing his large cup of wine that I longed to steal, various middle lords and ageing officers surround him like London pigeons on scraps of bread. Are they asking for more drops of holy water? Maybe they hoped for a discount. I walked up, and gasps escaped from the stunned faces as I interrupted the group.

"Happy Birthday, Your Grace." Zeb still couldn't hide his disdain as he glared at me from his small bow.

"Happy Birthday!" The crowd repeated while stepping away hastily.

"Stay." And they do so.

I stepped up to Zeb, cornering him to the throne room wall, casting a shadow on him. "Do you feel envy?"

Zeb nearly spat out his wine. "Envy? Of course not!" "Ah, yes, your church teaches not to envy. Advising against needless want and earthly desires. In doing so, the connection to holy mana remains pure."

"Indeed, Your Grace." Adapting a preacher's tone, Zeb raised his arms wide. "Bathing in the constellation's light has been a great privilege that cannot be compared to earthly desires."

"Is that the same spiel you gave to the lady of the night two days prior?" I caught a falling cup of wine and drank a bit of it before placing it on a table. "You've gotten good at picking the dyes. Rough in bed, too. I can understand having fantasies, but sometimes it can be taken too far." I said it loud enough for gossipers to hear.

Zeb trembled under my gaze. "I-I-I-I don't know what you're talking about?!"

"Give me an excuse. Tell me why I shouldn't empty your bowels onto the floor."

Wiping away sweat with his white cassock sleeves, the blonde cardinal nervously replied, "B-because it's your birthday?"

I smiled, "What a wonderful gift it would be." The priest turned a ghostly white. I relaxed on the wall beside him. "Haha, look at your dumb face. I kid. Even the tyrant can hold himself back. But the meddling… It makes it hard to restrain myself, you understand?"

The cardinal nodded with heavy guilt.

Sending a tether to his ear, I spoke quiet words. "The Saint was sent to me for a reason." The priest spun towards me. "Yes. I know. Perhaps more than you."

"It can't be! Only the pope and I received God's words!" Nobles wondered what the sputtering priest was shouting within my air bubble.

"And you squandered it. Even as the curse's presence on this land increased, the church did nothing. Even when we sent letters to the pope. It was ignored. Only my marriage you have been fast with. Foolish."

"But the Duchess agreed – *cough*" Zeb started to turn purple as he ran out of air to speak his foolishness. But I gave back his life, and Zeb learnt to be silent.

"Do you want her mercy?"

"Yes! I will do anything!! Anything to have her forgive me!! PLeAse!!!" I left the wall, but a scared man grabbed my sleeve. "Your Grace…I will do ANYTHING." I watched him treble with fear and determination to live and found myself impressed by the wanker.

"ENTERING HIS HIGHNESS, PRINCE KRYOS and HIS HOLINESS THE POPE Aldoi VI: The FORGIVER.

Here they are. It seems it's true.

Predators move in flocks.

They caught sight of me, as I promptly ignored their existence.

Time to make a statement.

"The Designer has another agent of fate." I say to Zeb."Find my Father-in-law, he will give you what you need." I left the cup with someone, and I walked to my position.

"Brother!" Joshua ran to me, dressed in his suave, red doublet. "Getting nervous?"

"Of course not." I lied as I walked to the centre of the hall. "I'm stone…cold."

"Hehe, sure." Joshua raised his voice with qi, pushing away dancers and chatters. "Make way! Make way!"

Music starts to play. A slow waltz.

It's time.

My heart beats heavily. I haven't been this nervous in a while. Fuck… It's actually happening.

A giddy Jen escorted her confused best friend to the centre. Our eyes met, and I swore cherry blossom leaves blew into my vision. Her smile empties the room. Her emerald eyes subdue me.

I'm scared.

Like my first time on a battlefield. Like my first date. It's just a dance. I could convince my mind of that, but my thundering heart knows the truth. This is a line crossed that I can't retract. A responsibility I can't throw aside. It's a promise to build. To build a strong relationship. To build a family. To invest my whole self.

In a world I don't belong in and a life I stole. Can I be this happy?

"Tarion? What's happening?" My dame woke me from my all-consuming thoughts. Seeing her face again made this a simple decision. I extended a trembling hand, and her soft touch calmed me. "A dance, my fair lady?"

Vanessa

Pure ecstasy filled me to my pores. Twirling in the air like twin sycamore seeds, we held each other tight, sharing our warmth and joy. Our laughter almost took over the swelling music. In his arms, I never felt freer or more in control. He moved and carried me with finesse only possible with supreme strength. A novice danced like a ballerina in his arms. An air platform under my heels, he spun me. Leaning back, he caught me staring with his beastly eyes filled with desire.

"My second heart," Tarion spoke. "I don't know how I lived a day without you…"

I thought my ribcage would burst apart at that moment. But I was left without words as this devilishly handsome man stole all of them from me. Slowly, we descended.

"My north star. I am lost without your guidance and your wisdom."

Feet found the ground, but I was still in heaven.

"I…" Tarion cleared his throat. A tear fell down like an ice crystal on his pale skin. Gasps escaped surprised mouths as they saw a duke kneel to a daughter of a whore.

"My Sun. I want your smile to brighten all my days." Tarion reached behind his back and brought a small box. I covered my mouth, feeling faint. Thankfully, Jen saved me before I could fall.

The small box clicked open, and light escaped the box in a pulse of mana essence. On soft black velvet, a gold ring with a very large crystal set on top took my breath away.

"Vanessa."

He looked deep into my eyes.

"Will you marry me?"

"Yes!!" I spurted out without any thought. "Yes, Tarion…!" Tears gushed out from my eyes, spoiling an hour's work of makeup. "I will!"

Handkerchief ready, Tarion wiped my tears, neglecting his own and giggled with his deep, warm voice. "What a crybaby."

"What about you –"

The rude duke stole my words again with the greatest kiss I had ever had.

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