I returned to one of the airship's cabins to lie down, but the truth is I couldn't sleep. Elizia came with me, band the recent conversation left me with no desire at all, so no mood developed, especially since it was just the two of us there. Initially, I even thought about going on the offensive, but I changed my mind. Our friendzone is very weird, it makes me hesitant to sleep with her.

In the middle of the night, due to the annoying thoughts and also seeing Elizia's back on the other bench, I decided to wander toward the improvised bar they had set up. Not to brag, but I would obviously get a decent or near-luxurious airship trip. It's the advantage of being related to the king's family, what can I do but accept?

There, I came across Victorian sitting in a chair next to the counter. I hadn't seen him since we boarded this thing, I thought he had run off or something, but apparently I was wrong. The guy was drowning his sorrows in beer. I approach and put my arm around the big guy's neck, who is startled at first until he recognizes my face.

"And here I thought you were trying to avoid me, now I find you getting plastered. Aren't you ashamed to be literally running away from work?"

"Master Darius... Oh, I apologize. I thought everything was fine considering we are on this airship, so I wanted to clear my thoughts here. I was writing a letter..."

"A letter? Show me."

Victorian doesn't reveal a hint of denial, passing the paper into my hand.

I can't read shit. The letters are so crooked that I feel like Egyptians in ancient times wrote this, and the brute in front of me tore this papyrus from a tomb.

You're an archaeologist and didn't tell me? Geez, your talents could be used for many things besides being a packhorse! I shrug, turning the paper over as if to analyze it from all sides. The letter must be for someone in his family, so I'll avoid being a jerk in my response.

"Wow, that's a sweet thing. I'm surprised you have such a sensitive heart, Victorian. Who are you sending it to?"

"To my wife. I sent a letter a few days before we left the Imperial City, but my handwriting is not the... best. To tell the truth, I never truly learned to write. I wanted to send her something beautiful for once, but I don't have that kind of genius."

Oh, he's illiterate. Okay, I'll give him a break this time.

"Do you have a quill there? I can fix this."

I sit in the chair next to him. He looks at the quill he was just using to write and passes it to me along with the ink. I'm no poet, but when it comes to women, I at least have a way with words. I hope Victorian's wife doesn't fall for me because of my smooth talk, that's my biggest fear.

We discuss it for a while, the content of the letter was to talk about the trip so far, how there were no problems, and that he would be arriving in the next few weeks. I transcribed that part cleanly, obviously writing a completely new letter in beautiful cursive.

It's one of the advantages of growing up in the nobility, I was forced to always write beautifully, needing to sign or draft documents impeccably. It's a damn snobbery, but hey, you couldn't go against the Duke's or Leliana's wishes.

Reaching the end, I start to prod my inner genius. As far as I remember, people love poems in these letters, it's like a dessert after eating something savory. After some time, I begin to slide the quill across the paper.

The poem flowed before I even realized it. The dark ink danced over the paper, forming words that, in any other context, would make me vomit, or laugh until I lost my breath. Since the recipient was Victorian's wife, I decided to disguise the rascality with the veil of poetry.

"Under the moonlight, the wind whispers your name,

and every breath that touches my skin is your memory.

My body burns not from battle, but from longing;

my heart cries out, prisoner of your sweetness.

Ah, what torture it is to sleep without your perfume on the sheets,

without your eyes that eclipse the dawn.

I promise to return, and when I do,

let the world be silent—for only your voice I wish to hear."

I recited it softly as I finished, giving it that final touch of someone who knew exactly what he was doing, even while pretending otherwise. I blew on the paper, looked at the impeccable calligraphy, and handed it to the brute with the air of someone who had just created a masterpiece.

Victorian read until his throat went dry. With every line, his smile grew, and his eyes began to shine, worthy of a knight in love, not a battle-hardened fighter. He cleared his throat, visibly moved, and looked up at me.

"Thank you, Master Darius. Leonhardt tried to help me when I was writing this letter, but unfortunately, it didn't turn out the way I had envisioned."

"You're welcome."

Yes, I am sp fucking good! I cross my arms, adopting that pompous air of someone who has just saved a marriage with a flourish.

Wait, did I hear that wrong?

"Hold on, what the hell did you just say?"

Victorian blinked, confused.

"Thank you, Master Darius?"

"Not that, muscle-brain, I'm talking about the second part."

"Leonhardt tried to help me writing this letter...?"

"Victorian, did you hit your head really hard somewhere? Leonhardt isn't here."

He frowned, with all the bovine sincerity possible.

"Master Darius, he is right there."

I followed the pointing finger. No fucking way.

Leonhardt is sitting at a table further away next to Philomeu, the two of them laughing, chatting, completely detached from the context of reality. He wasn't supposed to be here. The man was literally supposed to be at the damn Inquisition more than 10 chapters ago!

"How... by all the gears of hell, how did he end up here?"

Victorian just shrugged, with the serenity of someone who found everything normal. I stood up and went to the table, determined to solve this cursed mystery from the Guy Upstairs.

Leonhardt saw me approaching and broke into a huge, bright smile, the kind that dogs show while wagging their tails. I swear, there's a pair of invisible Golden Retriever ears on that idiot's head. Gross, get away from me!

"Darius!" he exclaimed, his voice too cheerful and genuine for what I expected. "I missed you so much!"

"Missed me? I..." I sighed, massaging my temple. "Leonhardt, what the hell are you doing here? Weren't you supposed to be on a crusade on the other side of the country? Why are you on a floating bar thousands of feet in the air drinking beer with Philomeu?! Wait, to begin with, why is that son of a bitch untied and so friendly with you?!"

He tilted his head to the side, like someone who genuinely didn't see the problem. Goddammit, how I hate this protagonist! It's impossible for anyone to be this dense and slow-witted!

"Oh, right! I forgot to mention, but I decided to become a kind of guard for Philomeu, that way she wouldn't run away, and I also trust that my skills are sufficient to subdue him. Unfortunately, my colleagues didn't want to be anywhere near Philomeu, so the leader of my squad asked me to take an alternative route, and here I am!"

I closed my eyes, took a deep breath and counted to three, then opened them again hoping this was a crazy dream. To my great dismay, there was no light breaking the laws of physics or a strange lamp, just reality punching me right in the face with the hero boy's radiant expression.

Philomeu, next to him, raised his cup in a silent toast, not even trying to hide his amusement. I want to understand... what the hell reason is he unchained, drinking and laughing near Leonhardt. The guy technically killed a bunch of people in that revolutionary attack, and now he's just going to be chilling?

"Leonhardt, come here for a second..."

I quickly loop my arm around his neck, dragging him away from the center of the bar. I'm going to have a stroke depending on this guy's answer.

"Explain something to me: who was the stupid person who allowed you to drag a sworn enemy of the crown around, without being afraid that he might run away?"

"Duke Torvek Moonlight, why?"

"Holy shit, did the old man lose his mind too?!"

Ahhh, I'm going to explode! I should have stayed in Veyren with Ravenna, then I wouldn't have to see this guy or walk around with a psychopath who could literally open my cabin door and kill me at any moment!

"Since when... no, make me understand what happened for you two to be so friendly. Besides being an enemy of the crown, he tried to kill you, kill me, kill the Duke, kill Ravenna, the King, and half the world. This makes no sense!"

"Well, once Philomeu started cooperating with our investigation, I ended up easing up on the torture and was friendlier with her, and then we discovered many things in common. She is a really nice person if you take the time to understand her."

I grab the blonde boy's collar and widen my eyes. I feel like I'm going insane.

"Leonhardt, are you absolutely sure he didn't cast a very potent spell on you? You've been spouting nonsense for a long time."

"Darius, please, I'm serious! Besides, Philomeu likes to be referred to as a woman because of his new body, so I think it's better to start saying 'she', so you don't offend anyone..."

"Ah, right, my bad... Wait, why are you lecturing me about pronouns with an assassin?!"

I finally let go of his clothes, rubbing my face and looking for a way to calm the explosion of intrusive thoughts about jumping out the window.

"The two of us are going to Mastan, and from there we'll change the route by taking another airship" Leonhardt explains, much too happy for my liking. "I'm really happy to be able to accompany you, you have no idea!"

You gotta be kidding me! Damn it, you could at least pay for some wine or expensive food for me if you're so intent on destroying my life like this, you bastard!

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