《Lady Ori Has a Dark Side》


 Chapter 1 . Murdered

    Ori¡¯s breath was loud and haggard as she ran for her life down the halls of the Rohan estate. She could not scream, she did not have the lungs for it. As she ran, the whip-like snapping of her skirts covered up the sound of her terrified mewling. She had lost her shoes, and the slip of her tights slapped onto the hard flooring.


    It was a different day today, not like the other moments when Ori could have died. In those moments of near-death, she sat stock still, like a child¡¯s stuffed doll. It was normal for dolls to go limp and quiet, no matter how you played with them. Even better, a doll held no grudges, and was not hurt by memories or cuts to its fabric. In this way, Ori could be normal no matter what happened, only talking when the puppeteer gave her voice to speak.


    So how could it be that Ori could run? She herself didn¡¯t understand. She¡¯d never known a doll that propelled itself. Tears streamed from her large kind eyes. Her panic was now pressing into her throat, but the few footsteps behind her were slow. Ori¡¯s conscious sense of self began to float, as if her spirit were a small kite. Into the body and out. In and out of the body. Feelings of horror and the certainty of death, and then, the hazy confusion of a gentle ghost.


    Ori¡¯s plight had absolutely nothing to do with Julie.


    The two could not have been more different from each other. It was a clear fact that Julie lived in a different realm, even a different timeline, from Ori. Julie had cold eyes focused in a perpetual glare, and pin-straight black hair that lay down the length of her back. Her skin glowed white from a life of long nights, and her dangerous aura she wore like a pair of sharp Louboutons. She had never run from anything in the entirety of her life, that she was certain of. No matter the cut of her skirt or the height of her heels, or even the position of her body, Julie was the one who controlled.


    When she swayed her hips near the doors of the nightclub, the bouncer greeted her kindly and swung the door open. Inside, women undressed, and changed into clean lingerie. They applied velvety lipstick with casual precision, and chatted in small groups. Julie sauntered through uninterested. She greeted another woman with a quick kiss, bumped a line, then left through the side door. The music boomed its familiar welcome.


    Soon a man came to her, drawn in like a hummingbird to the delicate throat of a flower. She evaluated him with a sharp gaze and put her arms around his neck. He leaned in, the hunger showing clearly on his face. It was a good kiss, and so after some time and some drinking, she put him in her car and drove him to her apartment. He watched the white of her thighs flash with color as they drove under the city lights.


    They lay in bed together. The pulsing music and neon lights bore witness to the web Julie was so meticulously spinning. She leaned into and over him, her half lidded eyes blazing with power. The sight of Julie¡¯s body above him made the man catch his breath. Julie smirked softly in the glowing half-darkness. Yes. The buildup was important. It had to be slow.


    Julie never went by anyone else¡¯s pace. Then, as she prepared to let the man kiss her lips and lick her tongue, her bedroom door clicked open. An electrical pain shot through her chest and radiated up her neck, into her skull. It slammed down through her stomach, her hips, her legs, her toes.


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    The man below Julie screamed in fear.


    Ori thought of Julie as she struggled to lock the heavy door behind her. Her hands shook with adrenaline. In the past, she had learned to melt away when she felt the first jittery shock of cortisol. In this moment, she fought against her instinct to fall asleep, to become a doll, to stop moving. She was not like Julie. Julie could sink her claws into the very flesh of adrenaline, knead it to her will, and sharpen it like a knife. No, Ori knew, Julie would never have struggled with locking a door.


    Ori¡¯s hands failed her. They went limp against her fervent will. When the door crashed open like a thunderous wave, it sent her flying to the floor. The fluffy mass of her hair stuck to the sweat of her face. Her breathing was rough and choked, and she became aware that her mouth had opened and she could scream. She screamed and wailed like a newborn. Terror and terror and terror. A large knight looked down at her, his mouth set in a hard line under his mess of dull blonde hair.


    Ori shifted her eyes to the side. Contessa de Rohan walked through the door to join the knight. Her face and body were hideous and grotesque. Right in front of Ori¡¯s eyes, it twisted and undulated in anger. Ori¡¯s mouth closed, and the screaming ended in her throat. It would all be alright, because Ori was a stuffed doll. The doll looked into the eyes of her mother and waited. Contessa de Rohan was a demon, though she was human. When she spoke, a demon spoke through her, though she was not possessed. When she raised her fists, or kicked her legs, they exuded the strength of the devil. Even so, a god had never stepped in to stop it.


    Julie blinked. Her chest pumped thick blood onto her breasts. She scoffed, unable to suppress the urge to laugh. Blood splatter rained down on the face and chest of the poor man bellow her. He could not move. In these precious few seconds of life, Julie was curious. She began to turn her head to look at the person who shot her. Instead, her body lurched out of her control, and she fell sideways onto the hard floor. It stung in a thousand ways. Even so, Julie narrowed her eyes, gurgling and wheezing through gritted teeth. The shooters face was blurry, but it was the voice and build of a man. He was bellowing at the top of his lungs, and waving his arms around like an unsettled rooster. He crowed and bitched until the very end. The ambient sound of peacocking male drama cut through the sacred space of her bedroom. This is how Julie died, her face twisted in annoyance and disgust. What a dumb fucking way to die.


    Ori, too, bled out onto wooden floors. If she had been able to crawl a few feet more, she could have spent her last moments on the rug. It would have been a warmer death. The rugs in the Rohan estate were soft and plush Lenisian works of art. Her mother was so fond of them that they came up often in her conversations. Expensive, imported, and sought after by collectors. Such a precious thing would not have survived such a deep blood stain. Ori was robbed of even this tiny revenge. Her little body stared upwards at nothing, and the rug remained spotless.


    Ori¡¯s mother, her lust for revenge over some small issue thus resolved, ordered the rug removed. The blonde knight nodded. He did not meet her eyes. Contessa de Rohan then took one raspy breath, and left out of the door that she came from. When he could no longer hear the clack of her footsteps, the trembling knight rolled the rug away from Ori¡¯s corpse. He leaned it against the wall, then moved to look at her. Her open eyes startled him. They did not blink. It was then that he realized that she was dead. He moved to the far side of the room, but it spun around him. He wrapped himself into a tight ball and shook.


    He did not move for a long time.

 Chapter 2 . Alive Again

    When Julie opened her eyes and sat up to move, she did so as a spirit. She felt as if she had woken up from a nightmare. The world around her now felt more crisp and real than the material world she¡¯d died in, but it was still a place of aether. In the spirit realm, there are more colors and more dimensions. Julie sat and stared at it all, drinking it in.


    From some strange direction, a figure made of haze and mist moved towards her.


    Julie held out her hand.


    The figure gently took it, lifting her.


    She laughed, and the sound of it danced in the air. ¡°Reaper.¡±


    The Reaper felt familiar to Julie, and his hand was warm. ¡°Have we met before?¡±


    Reaper eyed her from the hood of his black robes. ¡°We have.¡± His voice was deep, soft, and gentle.


    She grinned. ¡°Then, I¡¯m happy to see you again.¡±


    Julie meant it.


    Although everything around her was an unfathomable unknown, the Reaper had to be a friend. He radiated it.


    They moved together, the Reaper leading. Bits of spiritual fluff and cloudy mist drifted around them.


    Julie did not think about controlling the Reaper or using him. She did not think about kissing him or owning him.


    Instead, serenity. Calm. Satisfaction. She bathed in it and closed her eyes. It was even better that way. She bobbed alongside the Reaper like a buoy in the ocean, tethered by her hand in his. She was light, floating in a sea of color and comfortable sensations. Julie had never felt ¡®peace¡¯ before. It was new.


    The sound of water bubbled up from a distance. It was a beautiful sound. Julie opened her eyes, and all around her were long, thin boats on an enormous river. Spirits of all kinds milled about, murmuring. They did not look at her but focused their attention on the far side of the river.


    The Reaper strode past them.


    Julie looked into his dark hood, puzzled. ¡°Reaper, am I not crossing the river?¡±


    He sighed and shook his head. ¡°How could you?¡±


    Julie was, at first, confused by his question. Then, upon some reflection, she nodded. ¡°I get it.¡±


    The Reaper shook his hood in soft slow motion. The movement itself radiated fractals around them. ¡°Do you?¡±


    The question rumbled into waves of mist.


    ¡°I¡¯m going to hell.¡± She sighed, disappointed. ¡°That tracks.¡± She danced her feet over the soft spectral ground. It tickled the underside of her feet as she floated with the Reaper.


    The Reaper frowned behind his hood. ¡°You will be¡­,¡± he paused, ¡°¡­returning to a sort of hell.¡± His deep slow voice enveloped her. ¡°As you always do.¡±


    Julie allowed his words to settle into her heart. The feelings of serenity remained. ¡°Ha, Reaper. You must be drugging me. I don¡¯t even feel scared.¡±


    To this, the Reaper said nothing. Her soft hand in his, he continued coaxing her soul along on the predestined path.


    The sound of water fell away, as did the low sound of the other spirits.


    Ori woke up from her death in excruciating pain. It was all-encompassing, an ache and burn unlike anything physical.


    Flames seemed to rip and bite her from every direction, and she howled from the bottom of her chest. It was a gruff sound that she had never made before. She felt torn to shreds, the edges of her soul waving in the aether like a tattered rag. She was a rotting spirit, but the rot was cosmic and forever. Stabbing loneliness punctured it all.


    The hideous noises she made twitched outward into the air. The aether reacted, changing the landscape into uncomfortable shapes.


    A Reaper came to her then and enveloped her in an embrace.


    ¡°Shhh,¡± said the Reaper in a kind, low voice. It was a woman, and she was holding Ori¡¯s trembling, shrieking spirit with one robed arm.


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    The other she used to gather smokey aether, as one would collect cotton candy. When her arm was thick with it, she flicked her wrist and twirled her arm. This wove the fluffy aether into a long blanket.


    With the practice of thousands of years, the Reaper wrapped Ori in it in a matter of seconds. The result was a wrap carrier usually used for young babies. Ori¡¯s tiny, screeching soul quieted and leaned against the Reaper''s black robes. The pain subsided.


    Now that the pain was gone, Ori could remember who she was, and what had happened. Was this death? This hellish pain, and strange hooded figure? There were too many thoughts to think. Why was every aspect of existence so horrid? What had she done that was so wrong? Ori began to cry again. This is why Julie had left her, Ori was sure of it.


    The Reaper held Ori¡¯s little body, bound by the wrap, and swayed back and forth. The sound of her soft shhhhh and the movement of her body swirled a bright aether around her. Ori cried and cried.


    Julie heard sobbing before she saw the female Reaper and the baby. The sobs were loud and endless.


    As Julie and her Reaper moved closer, Julie felt the baby¡¯s presence blow through her like a cold humid wind.


    Ori¡¯s little soul glowed with so much pain that Julie squeezed her Reaper¡¯s hand and pulled away. ¡°What is that?¡± she whispered. ¡°Is that really a baby?¡±


    The male Reaper watched her reaction in silence.


    Julie looked up into his hood for reassurance. When he did not move nor speak, she settled her feet onto the ground. She no longer floated.


    The rocking of the female Reaper was hypnotic, but the crying of the baby was discomforting.


    The male Reaper stopped moving. He stood next to Julie, impassive. His large hand held hers.


    Julie had a strange thought. She glanced at her Reaper with a wry smile. ¡°If I could cry like that, maybe you wouldn¡¯t have to keep sending me to hell.¡±


    Slowly, like the buildup of an earthquake, the male Reaper looked deep into Julie''s spirit. He opened his mouth to speak. ¡°You have always cried like this.¡±


    The words shattered into Julie¡¯s ears.


    ¡°There has never once been a time,¡± he wavered with emotion, ¡°that you have not cried like this.¡±


    His words boomed into existence like a slap in the face, and Julie felt them strike her. She flinched away. Unfamiliar feelings, like dread, and yearning, drenched her in a horrible cold.


    Julie felt the impossibility of her existence: a ripped piece of paper where a full soul should have been. The implications of this made her feel nauseous and she dry heaved with overwhelm.


    If her spirit was a body, then Julie was only a limb or a torso. The torn bits of her spirit materialized once she realized this truth. The edges of her immaterial body turned to mist.


    What was she doing in this place? Where was the rest of her soul?


    Julie no longer had lungs, but she couldn¡¯t breathe. Even drowning in her own blood had not felt this way. She floundered. The reaper''s firm grip on her spirit was the only sensation keeping her tethered to sanity.


    The baby cried and cried and Julie felt the tears prick her deep in her heart.


    Julie roared in defiance, and her mind snapped back in full. She dug her nails and teeth into this current presence of mind.


    The male Reaper had brought her closer to the baby. He was holding Julie¡¯s shoulders with firm hands as if to keep her from running away.


    Julie looked down at the tattered little spirit of Ori.


    Ori, too, looked up at the hazy spirit of Julie.


    The two spirits met eyes, and the aether exploded in light. Julie¡¯s long black hair blew behind her, but she couldn¡¯t close her eyes to the wind. She stared into Ori¡¯s big blue eyes, stunned.


    Ori¡¯s eyes widened in recognition. The woven aether wrap fell away, and Ori, made of brilliant light, grew again into a young woman of twenty-three. ¡°Julie,¡± she cried. ¡°Julie! Julie!¡±


    Ori reached her hands out, and Julie grasped them.


    For the first time in many years, tears fell from Julie¡¯s eyes. A rush of feeling fell into the black hole inside of her chest. She almost fell to her knees, dizzy with emotion. Instead, she nuzzled Ori¡¯s cheeks. ¡°I¡¯m sorry,¡± she choked, ¡°I¡¯m sorry, baby Ori.¡±


    In return, Ori cradled Julie¡¯s face in her hands.


    Their relationship had always been one of opposites. Still, the spirits of Julie and Ori together made one soul. They should have never parted.


    A soul cut in half cannot exist for too long. This, all Reapers knew.


    The female Reaper readjusted the hood of her black robes and caught the eye of the male Reaper.


    He nodded.


    She placed her hands with care on each spirit¡¯s shoulders. ¡°¡­have you remembered?¡±


    Julie clutched Ori to her, sick with regret. It had been her fault: Ripping their soul into pieces so she could escape. Leaving baby Ori to fend for herself. Sneaking through the aether to reincarnate into her own body. It had all been Julie. All of it.


    Now that Julie saw Ori, and could hold her in her arms, she realized how disgusting her decision to rip their soul in two had truly been.


    Ori dug her wet face into the crook of Julie¡¯s neck. ¡°It was all my fault, Julie. I¡¯m so weak. I¡¯m so worthless.¡± She gripped Julie¡¯s spirit with all her strength. ¡°I didn¡¯t deserve to have you protect me.¡±


    Enraged, Julie made a wounded sound into Ori¡¯s shoulder. ¡°Shut up, baby Ori. None of that is true.¡±


    ¡°It is true!¡±


    ¡°No, it isn¡¯t¡± Julie looked over at Ori¡¯s Reaper. ¡°Can you¡­glue us back together? So that we can be one person again?¡±


    Ori could not contain her joy. With her head in Julie¡¯s neck, she felt no pain and no fear. She felt forgiven. She wanted her other half back. She had missed her.


    The female Reaper beamed, in secret, behind her hood. ¡°Now that everyone is here, of course you can reunite as one.¡±


    The male Reaper placed a large hand on the female Reaper¡¯s shoulder. ¡°Wait a moment.¡±


    The male Reaper sighed, then wiped Julie¡¯s tears away with a robed hand. He did the same for Ori, but his kindness made Ori cry harder. He placed both of his warm hands on the crown of their heads. ¡°It has been a long time since the spirits of Julie and Ori were in one body, so at first, it will be confusing.¡±


    ¡°Okay.¡± Julie nodded, resolute.


    The male Reaper frowned. ¡°I told you before¡­that I will be returning you to hell.¡±


    Julie nodded again, her eyes sharp. No matter what happened, nothing could be worse than being apart.


    Ori fidgeted. ¡°What does that mean? Going back to hell?¡±


    ¡ª-


    They opened their eyes. Baby Ori gasped in horror inside of their head. Julie, looking through the eyes of their body, glared at the ceiling above them.


    There was a double knock on the door. ¡°Lady Ori? Shall I come in?¡±


    Inside of their mind, Ori screamed. ¡°No!! This can¡¯t¨DI can¡¯t¨D!!¡±


    They stood inside the body, although where they were was hard to put into words. It was a place where consciousness lives. Julie¡¯s spirit stood just behind the body¡¯s eyes. Ori¡¯s spirit stood a bit behind her, to the left.


    Julie¡¯s spirit pulled baby Ori into a firm hug, squishing her big cheeks against her chest. ¡°It¡¯s okay, baby Ori.¡± Julie began to smirk, then to chuckle, and then to laugh.


    Her laugh erupted out of their mind¡¯s eye and escaped through their body. The body of Lady Ori was cackling so heartily and so loudly, that the maid outside of the door startled.


    Julie told Ori, ¡°I¡¯m serious. Don¡¯t worry. I¡¯ll take care of everything.¡±


    Julie gave Ori¡¯s head a pat filled with affection, sat the body up, and looked at the door.


    ¡°Come in!¡± Lady Ori ordered.

 Chapter 3 . Excited

    The maid removed Lady Ori¡¯s nightgown. She dipped a clean washcloth into a soapy basin of warm water and rung it. With gentle care, she began washing her lady¡¯s body.


    As the maid worked, Lady Ori washed her face and behind her ears. ¡°What is the date today?¡±


    ¡°The 5th of March, my lady.¡±


    Baby Ori trembled in their mind¡¯s eye. ¡°That¡¯s a week till...¡± She could not finish the rest of her sentence and hung her head. A week till their mother will beat her to death.


    Lady Ori grit her teeth, furious.


    Julie felt Baby Ori¡¯s feelings now. They ached with complexity and brought an unfamiliar wetness to their eyes.


    A sudden thought came over her.


    Lady Ori turned to look at her naked back in the mirror.


    The maid bowed and stood to the side.


    Blooming green and yellow splotches discolored the entire length of her body. From her shoulders to the back of her shins: Old bruises, and healing cuts. Disgusted and taken aback, she laughed a joyless ¡°HAH,¡± clenching her fists.


    Baby Ori closed her eyes, embarrassed.


    In their mind, Julie clutched her sister even closer. ¡°This is my fault, baby Ori. I swear to you: I will fix it.


    The maid watched Lady Ori from the corner of her eyes. It was an unthinkable sight to see the sweet Lady Ori¡­angry.


    ¡°Continue to wash me,¡± Lady Ori snapped, her sharp eyes slicing into the maid¡¯s.


    The maid did so, her movements flustered and confused.


    ¡°Tell me my schedule.¡±


    ¡°You shall meet with your fianc¨¦e today, my lady. At tea.


    Baby Ori¡¯s heart skipped a beat, and Julie pulled a face at the sudden unfamiliar emotion.


    ¡°Have it canceled.¡±


    ¡°Y-yes, my lady.


    Baby Ori pouted. ¡°But why? He¡¯s a good person, Julie.¡±


    Lady Ori stood impassive as the maid dressed her, deep in thought. In reality, the two spirits inside were arguing. Now dressed, Lady Ori spared a moment to look into the mirror. She demanded an escort to the Knight¡¯s Battalion.


    Baby Ori screamed in protest.


    ¡°Be quiet and trust your big sister!¡± Julie shouted. Then, upon seeing Baby Ori¡¯s face, she apologized for shouting.


    Baby Ori gripped her dress with her little fists. ¡°If you go there, Sir Jonathon will hit us! I don¡¯t want to go!¡±


    Julie frowned as guilt and regret swam in their heart. She wasn¡¯t used to all this depth of feeling. It was too different. How was she supposed to live like this?


    Baby Ori felt confused by her own changes as well. She was able to talk back and yell. She even felt annoyed! Was this what Julie felt all the time? It was terrible. It felt like bugs were crawling inside of her.


    The manservant arrived and Lady Ori followed him. Her eyes narrowed into Julie¡¯s signature glare. Her back was straight, the controlled poise of her body screaming deadly.


    Baby Ori stole glances at her sister, watching in silence.


    As they walked, the servants hurried out of her way. They peered at her from behind corners, in awe of Lady Ori¡¯s sudden change.


    Yesterday, the lady had drifted through the halls like a small girl in a dream, as she always did. Every few steps she would stop, staring in wonder at the world around her like she had never seen it before. If you went over to check on her, she¡¯d be observing ants and spiders, or listening to bird songs. Yes, the little lady was as innocent as a child and very dim.


    She was well-liked among the servants. People like the little lady could not help that their minds did not age: this was common knowledge. She was easy to manage and did not complain. The maids read her fairytales and snuck her candies. Still, when the Contessa came, they kept their heads down and their mouths closed. It was a family issue.


    Lady Ori snapped her fan open with a resounding CRACK, and the servants fell over themselves to look away. She did not spare them even a passing glance, as if she didn¡¯t know them.


    The clack of her heels on the hard flooring was sending shivers up the guiding manservant¡¯s spine. Instead of leading her, he felt like she was driving him forward like a coachman would a horse.


    He stopped in front of the entryway of the Knight¡¯s Battalion and bowed.


    She closed her fan with another chilling CRACK.


    He flinched.


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    ¡°Where is Sir Jonathon?¡±


    The sudden question made him sweat bullets. The servants did not speak of Sir Jonathon or the Contessa in front of the little lady. ¡°He is with the Contessa, my lady.¡±


    Lady Ori snarled soundlessly. The curl of her blood-red lips was a sight to behold. It was clear what she was thinking.


    Her reaction shocked him. ¡°M-my lady, are you¡ª?¡±


    The violent sting of her gaze fell upon him immediately and stole the words from his mouth. He had been right, he had become a carriage horse, and she held the whippet with her eyes.


    When he did not speak further, she left through the Battalion¡¯s entryway without a word.


    She came upon a young squire, who leaped up at the sight of her. ¡°Lady Ori de Rohan has entered!¡±


    What a clever boy.


    The Knights of Rohan paused, exchanging looks. They were shining with sweat, still holding their weapons. The knights murmured to themselves and looked at their Officer.


    The Officer was a man in his late fifties and was no stranger to the way of things. He bowed and offered to take her hand. ¡°Greetings Lady Ori, could it be that you¡¯re lost? Shall I take you back to the garden?¡±


    Lady Ori scoffed and walked past him. She strode with confidence towards the wall of weapons at the far end of the open courtyard.


    The Officer¡¯s pride stung, but everyone knew the little lady was ¡®not all there¡¯. She was as blameless as a kitten. He hurried after her. ¡°My lady, those are very sharp. This is not a good place for young, unmarried women to be.¡±


    Again, Lady Ori ignored him. She chose a sword and clicked her tongue with disgust when she was unable to lift it. ¡°Where are the daggers?¡±


    The knights around her mulled about, their eyes sizing up the little lady of the estate. Not all of them kindly.


    The Officer paused before answering. ¡°What do you need the dagger for, my lady?¡± It was a loaded question, but he had confidence that she was only playing a game. Perhaps she was pretending to be her mother.


    Lady Ori chuckled, her face twisting into a sick smile. It was as if a demoness had snuck into her body and heard a sarcastic joke. ¡°For pleasure.¡±


    The men froze. That answer could mean many unsavory things. She had delivered it like a threat.


    Unsettled, the Officer¡¯s wrinkles deepened as he frowned. ¡°It couldn¡¯t possibly be,¡± here he licked his dry lips in worry, ¡°for protection?¡±


    It would have been laughable to believe that the Knights of Rohan were blameless. The Contessa beat the little lady of Rohan as often as she could. In full view of the entire estate. It was a nasty open secret that was hidden only from those on the outside.


    Lady Ori tilted her head to the side, smirking. They had never allowed Baby Ori a dagger. That would be their undoing.


    In the ideal world of a romance novel, knights would practice chivalry. In reality, the Knights of Rohan valued the Contessa, whose signature was on their bill of pay.


    All eyes focused on Lady Ori.


    This was the kind of moment Julie enjoyed the most. The tension, the confusion, and above all, the great control she had over what happened next.


    On the inside, she sipped this moment with great satisfaction.


    Lady Ori settled her bright blue glare at the Officer and shrugged. ¡°Pleasure and protection certainly do go together.¡±


    Sparse, shocked laughter erupted around them.


    The Officer was at a loss for words. He sensed something was very wrong. ¡°Let us speak more privately, my lady.


    Lady Ori smiled, and, lifting her skirts, stepped away from him. She walked here and there, staring at the men around her with veiled disdain.


    They shuffled under her poignant gaze, which lingered for too long in some areas, and not enough on others. It was an unspeakable thing for a woman to do.


    Lady Ori was again in front of the squire who had announced her.


    Much like Baby Ori did every day, he masked his fear by turning down his eyebrows and smiling. The expression gave the effect that he was naive and sinless.


    She looked down upon him. ¡°Bring me a nice, sharp dagger.¡±


    The squire ran off and returned with extreme haste.


    The Officer thought to stop him but lost his chance.


    ¡°Here you are, my lady.¡± The boy raised his palms for her to see.


    Oh. It was perfect. Lady Ori, languid and beautiful, bent to retrieve the dagger from him with reverence.


    As a reward, Julie smiled her first true smile. She left her fan in his hands.


    She rose like a serpent and rolled the dagger over with precision.


    Julie was no stranger to the siren call of a razor-sharp blade. She had several in the flat of the apartment she had been murdered in. This one in particular was sturdy and utilitarian, rather than pretty. She liked it very much. It would look much better once she was able to have her nails painted.


    The Officer remembered to breathe. ¡°My Lady, that¡¯s too dangerous¡ª!¡±


    Without bothering to acknowledge him, Lady Ori left with the manservant she had come with. The snapping of her heels rang out like the ominous ticking of a clock. When tallied, she had spent an hour getting dressed, and another hour finding a weapon. Hungry as she was for breakfast, it would have to wait.


    Right now, she was hungry for something else. When sent to hell, one should become hellish.


    With each heavy step, she grew angrier and angrier. Julie thought of her mother and Baby Ori in the same room together, and it made her feel sick with rage.


    Baby Ori peered at her sister from behind a door in their mind. ¡°Julie? Is it over?¡± She had been too frightened to visit the Battalion. Instead, she had found a safe corner at the edge of their unconscious and waited.


    Julie winced, stuffing down the brutality of her thoughts. ¡°No Baby, you should go to sleep for a while. Some scary things may happen, but I¡¯ll keep us safe.¡±


    ¡°Oh¡­okay.¡± Baby Ori peered at her sister but decided not to ask her what she was up to. Baby Ori reminded herself that Julie was the strong and capable one, unlike her.


    She worried, but she also felt relieved. Instead of having to exist all the time as the doll of the estate, maybe she could do something else. It was an exciting thought. Baby Ori shut the door behind her and wandered away into the vastness of their inner world.


    Julie narrowed her eyes. Baby Ori didn¡¯t deserve any of this shit. She had never deserved it. These thoughts calmed her. She wrapped herself up in rage and let herself indulge in its embrace. The warmth of it made her feel safe and in control.


    Although it was self-centered, and rarely disconcerting to who it damaged, rage had a magic to it. It was a specialty weapon best used in moderation. But today, Julie intended to use the full force of it for Baby Ori¡¯s sake. That was the decadent beauty of rage. She must have inherited this gift from her mother.


    Lady Ori¡¯s red lips parted into a violent grin. It was time to visit Contessa de Rohan and show her how much Julie had grown.

 Chapter 4 . Gross

    In no time at all, Lady Ori stood in front of Contessa de Rohan¡¯s office door. She hid the dagger behind her back.


    The knight¡¯s that flanked either side glared down at her.


    She met eyes with the knight who had dull, blonde hair, and smiled a wide, unkind smile. ¡°Sir Jonathon~¡± she sang, ¡°It¡¯s been so long, I hardly recognized you.¡±


    Sir Jonathon made a face. Lady Ori was usually too terrified of him to speak. He made sure she saw him put his hand on his sword hilt, and shot her a meaningful glance.


    Lady Ori laughed. ¡°You fucked up so bad, Jonathon,¡± she told him. In one swift movement, Lady Ori shot out her left arm and grabbed Jonathon by the balls.


    Jonathon screamed in horror as she grabbed him harder and twisted. He twisted and writhed away, overcome with pain.


    Lady Ori cackled as she plunged the dagger in her right hand into Jonathon¡¯s penis. She feelt his balls crack in her left hand. All this happened in a matter of mere seconds.


    The other knight, roused out of his shock by Sir Jonathon¡¯s screams of agony, grabbed her from behind. She was light as a feather, and he pulled her away with force.


    Sir Jonathon screamed louder as his balls were pulled along with her.


    Lady Ori was laughing and laughing. ¡°I always give back double what I get, Jonathon! And you deserve it all! You fucking deserve it all!¡±


    ¨D


    ¡°Ugh.¡± Lady Ori lay prone on the floor. She heaved herself up, and spat out a bloody tooth. Her face stung and burned. She stood up and looked in the mirror. Her right eye was swollen shut and a deep purple.


    Julie cackled to herself, satisfied. ¡°I think I cracked both of his eggs.¡± That bastard had the audacity to chase her baby Ori on the day she was murdered. Now, he¡¯d never have babies.


    Lady Ori grinned at herself in the mirror with bloody teeth. Her only regret was using the dagger before she could get to the Contessa. Ah well, she hadn¡¯t been thinking. It was okay, she still had time.


    Outside of her door, a woman screamed Ori¡¯s name.


    Lady Ori froze. Sweat dove through her pores. Her body itched.


    Over and over, the woman screamed and cursed her. The clicking of her heels was so familiar.


    Dread sucked the air out of Lady Ori¡¯s room. Her lips and mouth went dry.


    The growled and incessant curses grew louder and louder.


    Time seemed to move in slow motion. Lady Ori held her breath. She knew who was coming for her.


    The woman screamed at the knights to move away. With one swift click, she made to open the door.


    Julie¡¯s blood ran cold. How many times had she heard that click of her door before she had abandoned baby Ori and took off for another world?


    Fear. That¡¯s what this was.


    It had been a long, long time since she had felt it. It rose uo into her throat so that she struggled to breathe.


    Julie was thankful that baby Ori was somewhere else in the mind. If their body was reacting like this, she couldn¡¯t imagine how much worse it would be with baby Ori around.


    As strong as the fear slammed into her body, Julie¡¯s rage and disgust grew to meet it. Her fury grew enormous and hungry. It became a flame, eating away at the fear, using it as fuel.


    The creaking opening of her door echo¡¯d into space.


    Wrath outgrew the body¡¯s terror, and then swiped it away like a cat would a toy mouse. That was the superpower that Julie had, and that baby Ori lacked.


    Lady Ori¡¯s uninjured eye narrowed, and tunnel vision sharped it. Her door burst open with the force and power of a detonated explosion.


    Contessa de Rohan entered in all her tacky splendor. She glittered with jewels, from the dull blonde of her hair to the saggy flesh of her neck. Her silk gown attempted to reshape the fatness of her body into a wobbly hourglass. She shook with indignation and rage. ¡°Are you out of your mind?!¡± she was screaming, her thick hands embellishing her words, ¡°Who do you think you are?!¡±


    Julie couldn¡¯t believe her eye. This tiny little bitch of a woman was her worst nightmare? This old woman? She shook her head in disbelief. Here it was before her eye: proof that both she and Julie had aged. Only baby Ori had stayed the same.


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    Her mother locked the door. It would be her undoing.


    Lady Ori doubled over in laughter at the sight of her. ¡°Hey mommy!¡± she called, voice dripping in sarcasm.


    The Contessa never paused, she was before Lady Ori in a few clacking steps of her heels. She raised the mass of her hand, and slapped Lady Ori across her black eye.


    ¡°Fuck!!¡± Lady Ori cursed and reeled back. ¡°Fuck, mommy! I probably already have a concussion. Jesus.¡±


    The Contessa shook and watched her daughter struggle. ¡°How dare you talk back?¡± she spat in surprise.


    Lady Ori stumbled back up and took a shaky breathe.


    The Contessa raised her hand again.


    Lady Ori caught it with ease, now that she knew it was coming. ¡°You¡¯re such a nasty ass bitch.¡± She shooed her mother¡¯s hand away.


    The Contessa gasped, and went still. ¡°What¡­?¡± The first tiny flickers of fear flashed across the ugliness of her face.


    Julie noticed it, and the thrill of it made her feel amazing.


    ¡°I SAID YOU WERE A NASTY. ASS. BITCH.¡± Lady Ori grabbed her mother¡¯s hair with her left hand.


    The Contessa screamed.


    Lady Ori pulled her mother¡¯s ear close, and grabbed her chin with her right hand. ¡°Are you confused,¡± she whispered in her mother¡¯s ear, ¡°to see your weak little child fight back, mommy? Are you mad? Are you going to kill me?¡±


    The Contessa screamed again and tried to squirm away, ripping her own hair out.


    Lady Ori released her, reeled back, and punched her mother straight in the face, full of excitement.


    Contessa de Rogan fell to the ground, trembling and clutching her face. The strength of the punch was not strong. Lady Ori was too slight and weak. but the change in her daughter sent chills up her spine. ¡°You¨D¡°


    ¡°Is everything alright, Contessa de Rohan?¡± someone called from outside. Perhaps they thought the screams were coming from Lady Ori, but thought to check.


    The Contessa began to scream for help, but Lady Ori had already made her way to the hutch which held her dresses. With extreme effort she was able to knock it on it¡¯s side. It crashed in front of the door, barricading the two women inside.


    Her mother stared at it, mouth agape.


    Lady Ori smiled as male voices yelled beyond the door. ¡°Mom. Mommy. Ori was always a good girl.¡± She took a deep breathe and took off her heels, ¡°No matter how harsh you were, she just took it and took it, didn¡¯t she?¡±


    Julie thought about baby Ori having to look into the eyes of this ugly cunt while she died.


    ¡°Don¡¯t come closer!¡± Her mother ordered. ¡°Do not come closer to me!¡±


    Lady Ori scoffed, pulled back her leg and kicked the Contessa soundly in the jaw. The resounding crack and gargled scream was a delight to Lady Ori¡¯s senses. She did not stop. Lady Ori grunted in glee with each landing blow. She picked up her discarded heel and slammed it into her mothers eye. It squelched and crackled underneath it.


    Deep in their unconscious, Baby Ori heard commotion. She felt odd, uncomfortable feelings from far away. Was Julie being beaten? She worried for her.


    She walked to the door of their consciousness. The uneasy feelings grew closer and closer. Something was different about it all. She opened the door to look into her body¡¯s eyes, but could only see through one. That was when baby Ori saw everything.


    Lady Ori¡¯s grin fell, and tears began to stream into her eyes. They were slow at first, then erupted in great number. She did not stop her assault on the Contessa. Rather, she sobbed and begged herself to stop through its duration. The salt of her tears stung her black eye.


    The Contessa lay motionless on the floor, except for her quiet, agonized weeping.


    Lady Ori stopped to catch her breath. ¡°I hate that you made me do this, you awful bitch.¡± Again she grabbed her mother by her dull, blonde hair. It was now caked in blood. ¡°Gross.¡± She began dragging her towards her window. She intended to throw her mother over the balcony.


    ¡°Julie! Julie, please! Please stop! Stop it!¡± Baby Ori implored her sister.


    ¡°Go back to bed,¡± Julie said, refusing to look at her.


    Lady Ori¡¯s arms were tired. ¡°God, you¡¯re so fucking heavy.¡±


    Bleeding and dying, the Contessa grunted something.


    Lady Ori gripped her mother¡¯s hair tighter and shook the Contessa¡¯s head. ¡°Are you begging, mommy? Not for mercy, right? Not the mercy Ori never got, right?¡± Her voice strained with emotion. She threw her head back and laughed.


    The wood of the door shattered inward as an axe split through it.


    Lady Ori blinked. ¡°Wow, no one ever came to Ori¡¯s rescue when you were beating her ass.¡± Lady Ori sighed, stretching her back. ¡°This shit¡¯s just unfair.¡±


    Contessa de Rohan grunted.


    Lady Ori clicked her tongue with venom. ¡°Isn¡¯t your jaw broken by now?! Can¡¯t believe this dumb bitch can still talk.¡±


    The axe lifted and fell again and again, drowning out her words with the CRACK CRACK CRACK of the door.


    Lady Ori glanced around the room, then back at her mother.


    This body was getting tired, she needed to wrap this up.


    The bellowing of the men outside was too loud. They¡¯d still need to axe the wardrobe, but the sooner the Contessa was dead, the better.


    Julie had a sudden thought as Ori shrieked next to her in their mind.


    Lady Ori flipped her mother¡¯s body over with her foot and lifted up the broken and bleeding woman¡¯s skirts. She smiled. ¡°So you carry a dagger too, huh mommy?¡±


    Women¡¯s clothing in this world had open underwear that they tied in the front with small fabric straps. It was common for noble and laywomen to keep a dagger belted around the waist of their bloomers.


    Lady Ori had never been afforded such a simple kindness.


    Lady Ori slid the dagger out of its sheath.


    There was a downside to this practice, of course. You couldn¡¯t use the dagger under your gown unless someone ripped off your skirts.


    ¡°Look what I found, mommy.¡± Lady Ori brandished the dagger in front of her mother¡¯s good eye.


    It widened in recognition.


    Julie glanced at baby Ori.


    Baby Ori was screaming and crying in their mind. She apologized over and over again to their mother, and begged for Julie to stop. She shook Julie by the crook of her arm.


    Julie felt a twinge of guilt.


    Little children loved their parents, no matter what scum they were.


    In fact, Baby Ori often stayed awake at night, wondering why her mother didn¡¯t love her. She thought of ways to limit her own existence. She blamed herself. She called herself a bad, unlovable girl.


    ¡°Close your eyes, baby Ori.¡±


    ¡°No!¡±


    Julie bent down in their mind and kissed the crown of her little soul-sister¡¯s head. ¡°Baby Ori¡­you should know, none of this is your fault.¡± She sighed, ¡°I wish you would close your eyes.¡±


    The knights were almost inside. They had split open the door, and were pushing and axing the edge of the hutch.


    They were too late.


    Lady Ori gripped the back of Contessa de Rohan¡¯s neck and lifted. With the determination of an angel of death, she slit her mother¡¯s throat.

 Chapter 5 . The Reason Why

    As long as Lady Ori could remember, her inner thoughts had always been conversations. One thought would insist on a certain way of doing something, and the other thought would insist on something else. This was how her brain functioned. It was also how she was able to scrape by under the hateful eye of Contessa de Rohan.


    Lady Ori¡¯s thoughts never had different names or voices.


    She had no way of knowing that these thoughts would someday be a reflection of her body¡¯s reaction to trauma.


    Traumagenic parts are identities and memories that are forced to be separate due to abuse. They are a normal part of many childhood mental disorders. This includes complex post-traumatic stress disorder¨DCPTSD.


    Lady Ori¡¯s childhood body suffered years of horrific treatment. During it all, her body slammed on the emergency alarms. It went into total-protection mode. In this mode, memories were sorted into ¡®safe¡¯ and ¡®unsafe¡¯. Identities that had these memories were dumped into corners of the unconscious. They stayed there, scared and lonely.


    The opposite was also true. Identities that were well-liked by adults were thrust forward into consciousness. These identities were kept away from the others, and exalted by the brain. Yet, they were always confused. Why am I in this room? Why am I in pain? Who is this person? Why am I bleeding?


    Then, when an adult was angry, the identities traded places once again. It was like a card game that was played in desperation. The only way to win was to continue being alive.


    Unlike Dissociated Identity Disorder (DID), CPTSD traumatic parts rarely ¡®feel¡¯ different from the self. In Lady Ori¡¯s case, she was alway¡¯s Lady Ori¨Dthe many expressions of Lady Ori.


    That was, until Julie arrived. Something happened when Lady Ori was three years old that gave birth to Julie. Neither Julie nor Lady Ori knew what it was, nor did they search to know. Traumagenic parts stay out of each other¡¯s business.


    With trauma, every identity and every thought has a razor sharp focus. Julie¡¯s job was to protect the many terrified children¡¯s identities trapped inside the body of Lady Ori.


    You could think of her like a child knight in charge of the safety of an entire village of scared babies.


    For many years of Lady Ori¡¯s life, Julie prevailed as an aggressive force. If Lady Ori bit her mother in response to a slap, that was Julie. If Lady Ori screamed and kicked her little feet in response to some happening, that was Julie too. Julie was the power to react that the other identities were not allowed to have.


    Often, Julie would have a choice. She could either let a baby identity take the beating, or she could take the beating herself. Julie always took the beating¡­that was what Julie had been born for.


    When they were eleven, Lady Ori¡¯s body took stock of all the many identities. It sought to merge them. Children who have not suffered abuse do this too¨Dit¡¯s normal human development. During that year, Julie watched the babies dwindle in number and become more alike.


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    The ¡®good-girl¡¯ identities got caught up in it too. She watched them flail in confusion as they received memories they could not comprehend.


    Yes, Julie watched the entire thing happen. Soon, she was in charge of protecting only a few identities of Lady Ori. This consolidation had made everything worse. Aging had made everything worse.


    The good-girls could now scream and cry. The traumagenic children could now share their thoughts. It was total chaos.


    Julie knew she would need to protect the fragile body of eleven year old Lady Ori. But how? More and more often, instead of letting her fight back, the children would choose to black out.


    The eyes would turn off completely. The ears would stop hearing. The body would stop broadcasting the pain to its receptors. The children would go into a dreamlike trance, or nap.


    The children were trying to protect Julie.


    Julie felt thrown away.


    Without noticing, Julie began picking up parts of Lady Ori that the children could not handle. Their hatred, their anger, their resentment. She picked up abandonment problems that made her cold to others.


    When they all hit puberty at fourteen, she picked up an obsession for pleasure.


    But, the body only let Julie exist within the confines of an empty room.


    If Julie tried to open their bedroom door, then it was another identity that would step out. She was trapped.


    The children were trying to protect themselves¨Dfrom Julie. She had a penchant for making the adults angry. The only way to win the game was to live. Julie could end up being the reason they would die.


    Julie became a pariah in Lady Ori¡¯s body. She was a mass of feelings that Lady Ori could not safely feel. She was a barely contained wrathful ghost. She could do everything the babies of Lady Ori could never accomplish.


    The body saw Julie as a dragon, not a knight.


    When they were almost fifteen, Sir Jonathon opened the door. He had just been knighted months before. He did not knock or ask to be let in. It was a foolish mistake.


    Julie glared at him behind Lady Ori¡¯s surprised eyes. The bedroom was her domain.


    ¡°I hate you.¡± He told her, his fists balled up. ¡°You stupid girl, everything is your fault.¡±


    Before he could expound on the rest of his pathetic feelings, Julie stood up in Lady Ori¡¯s body. ¡°Shut the fuck up Jonathon, you ugly little bastard.¡±


    Jonathon froze. His face contorted in rage. ¡°Did you just call me a bastard?!¡±


    Julie scoffed and smirked. ¡°Doesn¡¯t everyone?¡±


    The eighteen year old Jonathon lunged for her neck and shook her, cursing.


    Julie kicked him in the balls, and watched him yelp in pain.


    He released her, and doubled over.


    ¡°One day,¡± Julie told him gruffly, walking around him. She kicked him in the anus as hard as she could. ¡°I¡¯m going to slice you into little pieces and feed you to pigs.¡±


    ¡°You¡¯re a crazy bitch! A stupid bitch!¡± He yowled, curled on the floor.


    She kicked him in the ribs with her clean, bejeweled heels.


    He gasped and tried to grab her leg. She slapped him across the face and slammed her heel into his hand.


    He screamed.


    ¡°Get out of my room, Sir Jonathon the Bastard!¡± She stepped on his groin and dug her heel in. ¡°Don¡¯t you dare come back and fuck with me again!¡±


    Sir Jonathon had quickly hobbled away, howling curses.


    Julie watched him.


    That night, one of the child identities got the worst beating of their life by the Contessa.


    Lady Ori¡¯s little body nearly died. Many bones had been broken, and Lady Ori lay in bed with a fever and no maid.


    Julie sobbed angry, furious tears inside. She screamed and cursed and cried. That sniveling bastard had run and told the Contessa, she was sure of it. If she had let him vent without reacting, maybe the children wouldn¡¯t be in so much pain. Maybe the children and the body were right. Maybe Julie had been born to be the dragon, all along. Maybe the children would be safer without her.


    Even if Julie felt she was older then the others, she was still only fourteen. Even if she was able to be furious and fight back, she was still scared and alone.


    Julie made the decision then. ¡°If we live, I¡¯ll leave.¡±

 Chapter 6 . Rumors

    A rider from de Rohan slid off his horse, exhausted and slick with sweat. He took fast strides into the King¡¯s morning meetings. He cleared his dry throat and bowed to the King and court. ¡°Contessa de Rohan is dead. It is suspected that her daughter, Lady Ori de Rohan, murdered her.¡±


    A shocked silence followed.


    The King, a man of only thirty-five years, wrinkled his brow. ¡°I have met Lady Ori de Rohan many times. I find it hard to believe that she is capable of such a thing. What is the evidence against her?¡±


    The rider took water from a servant, and he drank with deep gulps. ¡°Lady de Rohan blockaded her room, trapping her mother and she inside. The knights attest that they heard the late Contessa screaming till the end.¡±


    Gasps of horror filled the chamber.


    The King frowned. ¡°Bring Lady Ori de Rohan to be tried in her mother¡¯s murder. If it¡¯s found that she committed matricide, she shall be decapitated and her body burned.¡±


    The rider bowed and stepped aside. He relayed the message to another rider, who took off on a fresh horse to the de Rohan estate.


    The King looked at Count de Broglie. ¡°Is Lady Ori de Rohan not to be your daughter in law?¡±


    Count de Broglie, a chubby man with soft brown eyes, looked flabbergasted. ¡°She is, my liege. I am¡­¡± he gestured in confusion, ¡°I have no words.¡±


    The King shifted in his seat, ¡°Do you believe the lady could do such a thing?¡±


    De Broglie sighed. ¡°I cannot say for sure, but I am suspicious that such a thing could happen, your majesty. The de Rohan girl is mild and timid.¡±


    The King nodded, ¡°I have never seen a more demure and sweet natured girl.¡±


    The court murmured in agreement. The de Rohan household had no outstanding rumors attached to it. Even the inheritance was clear: Lady Ori was set to marry, and her male cousin had been named heir.


    The King glanced at de Candel and de Foix. Both men had gone pale. Candel had wet eyes and trembling lips.


    ¡°Your sister, and sister in law, has died.¡± The King intoned, ¡°My condolences to you both. You may take leave to make necessary arrangements¡±


    The two men bowed, and then left together.


    Candel began to cry. He turned away, head in hands.


    Foix pat his back with awkward kindness. ¡°I am sorry, brother in law.¡±


    Candel took out an elaborate handkerchief, patted his face, and blew his nose. ¡°D-do you believe that little lady Ori¡ª?¡±


    ¡°No,¡± said Foix. ¡°I would sooner believe anything else. There is no way.¡±


    Candel took a deep shaky in-breath and sniffled. ¡°I agree, that child is brainless as a bird.¡±


    Foix eyed him but said nothing.


    Candel shook his head, ¡°My older sister¡­she made many mistakes in her life, but she did not deserve this end.¡± He blew his nose again, ¡°How will the little lady marry now? It won¡¯t be long before people find out she¡¯s touched in the head.¡±


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    Foix startled, ¡°What are you saying, brother in law? She¡¯s a quiet, observant girl. Such shy girls are very popular brides.¡±


    Candel scoffed, ¡°No, that one has been an idiot from birth. Everyone will find out at the hearing. Damn it all¡ª¡° he pinched the bridge of his nose, ¡°but at least my son Luke will inherit my sister¡¯s title. That de Rohan line¡ªI always said they were unwell. The whole of them only have girls.¡±


    Foix removed his hand from his brother in law¡¯s back and looked at him anew. Candel had always been gruff and blunt, but¡ªperhaps grief had made him temporarily mean spirited. Foix, himself, had two girls with Candel¡¯s younger sister.


    Candel was not finished, ¡°If it weren¡¯t for that bastard Jonathon, elder sister would have married much better stock.¡±


    Foix¡¯s eyes widened and he looked around the empty hallway to make sure they were alone. ¡°Do you think it was Jonathon? He seemed very attracted to his mother, but could he have been angry that he could not inherit the title?¡±


    Candel began to cry again, ¡°I told her to toss that baby into the sea, but she refused! She could have at least taken him to an abby and made him a monk. Why did she make such a foolish mistake?¡±


    Foix felt disgusted by his brother in law¡¯s words. He could not listen to anymore of this madness. Foix saw the image of his brother in law change before his eyes. ¡°I shall go and visit my wife now.¡±


    Candel nodded, the broad length of his shoulders crumpled inward.


    ¡ª-


    Contessa de Foix shed angry tears. ¡°She was a terrible person, but she was still my elder sister,¡± she cried. ¡°One of her enemy¡¯s finally killed her.¡±


    Foix held his wife close. ¡°You always told me your family was cruel, but I finally saw it myself today. Your brother¡¯s words shocked me.¡±


    Contessa de Foix nodded, ¡°I should have visited little Lady Ori more often. My god, what has she seen? Do you think an assassin could have framed her?¡± The idea disturbed her so that she sobbed regretful tears.


    Foix shhh¡¯d his wife lovingly, kissing the crown of her head. ¡°I shall go and pick her up immediately. She needs to be with us and the girls, not Candel.¡±


    His wife nodded and released him, ¡°Go now.¡±


    ¡ª-


    Leven de Artois, the third son of the Artois family, ate lunch with his family. His father was telling the table the news from the King¡¯s morning meeting.


    His mother chuckled. ¡°Well, that certainly is a suitable end to such a beastly woman¡ªoh¡± she shot her sons a look, ¡°That was an awful thing to say. Never speak ill of the dead like that.¡±


    ¡°Yes, mother.¡± The boys said in unison.


    Count de Artois patted his mustache with a thick, cotton napkin and cackled. ¡°I wonder which bastard ordered it. No one believes it was the daughter.


    ¡°What was her name again?¡± Contessa de Artois asked.


    Leven looked up from his meal, ¡°Lady Ori, mother.¡±


    Contessa de Artois eyed her son with a knowing look. ¡°And is she quite beautiful?¡±


    The table erupted in soft laughter. It was well known that Leven only knew the names of beautiful women.


    Leven smiled in innocence, ¡°She is.¡±


    His elder brother shook his head. ¡°She isn¡¯t your type. You like the mysterious, boisterous ones. That girl is much too quiet.¡±


    Leven shrugged, ¡°I simply know her name. She had her debut ball many years ago, and I have seen her from afar many times. We are acquaintances. She seems a lovely girl¡ªalways smiling, though a bit nervous.¡±


    The middle brother cleared his throat, ¡°Someone has died.¡± He reminded his family.


    The table pulled faces and made shooing gestures with their hands. That boy was too serious.


    The count leaned over and ruffled his middle son¡¯s hair with affection. ¡°Perhaps I should represent the young girl in court.¡±


    Contessa de Artois agreed.


    Leven chewed his pheasant. ¡°If I remember correctly, she¡¯s in her early twenty¡¯s.¡±


    Contessa de Artois made a face. ¡°My goodness! Everyone talks as if she¡¯s a child of sixteen. Yet she¡¯s unmarried?¡±


    The middle son sighed, defeated. ¡°She¡¯s engaged to Broglie¡¯s second son, Vellim.¡±


    The eyes of everyone at the table swiveled to the second son.


    He blushed. ¡°Vellim is a friend of mine!¡±


    The elder brother and Leven exchanged quick glances. The second son was only interested in soft, docile women¡ª like Lady Ori.


    Contessa de Artois cackled. ¡°It seems Lady Ori de Rohan has stolen the hearts of my unmarried sons!¡±


    Sounds of insistent derision followed this statement. The Count and Contessa covered their faces and giggled together.


    The tabled enjoyed their lunch in this way for a long while. It was very hard to keep a de Artois from a good hearty chuckle. The whole of them were decidedly unserious.


    When lunch ended, Count de Artois kissed his wife¡¯s cheek and returned to the palace. At the King¡¯s evening meetings, he expressed his interest in becoming Lady Ori de Rohan¡¯s representative in court.

 Chapter 7 . Ori

    Lady Ori undressed herself with great difficulty. She at last stripped down to her undergarments. Her bloody gown and skirts she threw to the side. She sighed in relief to be rid of them.


    After she had murdered the Contessa, the Knights had descended upon her. She had been thrown in a new room without a maid.


    Her hands and face were still covered in the Contessa¡¯s blood. Her black eye felt like it was on fire; her gums stung. She knocked on her door, ¡°Hello~? Sir Knights? Get me some washing water.¡±


    The knights guarding the door in the hallway made noises in derision.


    Lady Ori laughed. ¡°Oh, and pain medication!¡±


    Julie knew they wouldn¡¯t bring anything to her, she only felt like teasing them. They must feel frustrated at having failed their only job: to protect the Contessa.


    Her consciousness swam with revenge euphoria. Everything was perfect.


    Baby Ori¡¯s feelings were different. She felt self-loathing, shame, and panic¨Dall mixed. She wanted to throw up, to die, to disappear.


    The two oscillated back and forth, ignoring each other. Julie wanted to hold on to her high, and Baby Ori hated it.


    Without food, water, or books, the two had nothing to do. It was boring and exhausting.


    Lady Ori milled around, then decided to lie down. Her stomach writhed and squelched. She closed her eyes.


    ¨D


    Her feelings were disorienting. She felt sick. She felt gleeful.


    Baby Ori¡¯s disgust was so that she would not look at Julie. She sat rocking herself inside their mind¡¯s eye.


    Julie walked towards her, hand outstretched to soothe her. ¡°Baby Ori¡ª¡°


    ¡°I¡¯m leaving.¡± Baby Ori said without feeling.


    Julie flinched. She sat down next to her soul sister. ¡°¡­to the Reapers?¡±


    Baby Ori shook her head, scooting away. ¡°To the inside.¡±


    Julie felt relief flow over her. ¡°Oh.¡±


    Baby Ori frowned. ¡°I can make it however I want in there.¡± She pointed to the only door. ¡°I made a room, and a garden inside. I saw other children.¡±


    Julie looked towards the door, ¡°Wow, you did?¡±


    Baby Ori nodded. ¡°I¡¯m going to live there forever.¡± She was firm.


    Julie sat in silence, thinking. ¡°That¡¯s a good idea, Baby Ori. I¡¯ll visit you often.¡±


    Baby Ori grimaced.


    Julie felt surprised. A strange thought occurred to her. ¡°Wait, do you hate me, Baby Ori?¡±


    Baby Ori was silent.


    Julie put her head in her hands. Feelings welled up into the chest. ¡°Are you serious? After everything I just did for us?¡±


    Baby Ori looked away.


    Julie grit her teeth. ¡°Everything I do is to protect you. I¡¯m only alive to keep you safe. How can you blame me?¡±


    Baby Ori bit her lip, and gripped her little dress, ¡°Julie, I¡¯m the bad one.¡±


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    ¡°How!¡± Julie snapped, angry.


    Baby Ori stood up, her children¡¯s heels click-clacking towards the door to their unconscious. ¡°I thought¡­if I was a good girl forever, then I would be safe.¡±


    Julie watched her, frustrated. She clenched her fists. ¡°You weren¡¯t safe because the Contessa, not because of anything you did or didn¡¯t do, Baby Ori.¡±


    Baby Ori¡¯s eyes filled with tears. ¡°Julie, I couldn¡¯t be safe without you. I was the bad one all along. I lost the game. I died.¡±


    Julie stood up, fists clenched. ¡°We¡¯ve never been bad! It was always the Contessa who was bad! Everything was the Contessa¡¯s fault! We wouldn¡¯t even¨D¡° Julie dug her nails into her palms and swallowed. ¡°We wouldn¡¯t even be different spirits if it weren¡¯t for that awful bitch.¡± She took a deep breath, shaking. ¡°Baby Ori, I never would have existed if the Contessa had been a good person.¡±


    Baby Ori placed her tiny hand on the doorknob. ¡°I don¡¯t know, I need to think about it.¡±


    ¡°Baby Ori!!¡± Cried Julie, dumbfounded.


    ¡°Bye, Julie.¡± Baby Ori walked through the door and shut it behind her.


    ¡ª-


    Baby Ori wiped her tears. The world of adults was too much. It was too scary for a child. She didn¡¯t want to pretend to be big anymore.


    Baby Ori turned around, away from the door. A stone cottage near a large thicket materialized. The front garden shone with blooming flowers. Children played in the fields around it, shrieking with laughter.


    This is the world she had made for herself and the other children. Here, in her mind, she could do whatever she wanted.


    A child stopped and turned to look at Baby Ori. ¡°Hey!!¡± the child called. ¡°We¡¯re playing tag!¡±


    Baby Ori laughed in joy. She took her first step towards the other children, and weight of her feelings and memories left her.


    ¡°I want to make a creek!!¡± Baby Ori yelled.


    ¡°I want to catch a salamander!!¡± laughed another child.


    At least just for now, Baby Ori did not thinking about the real world.


    ¨D-


    Julie cursed. She should have known that nothing would have changed. In the end, it was always Julie verses the Oris. She curled up like a child and blubbered into her knees.


    ¡°Damn it!¡± Julie sobbed. She didn¡¯t want to be alone.


    It¡¯s not that she expected a thank you from Baby Ori, but to be hated? She felt disrespected; abandoned.


    Julie swallowed hard. What had been the point of working so hard, if she couldn¡¯t even feel happy about her own revenge?


    This was hell, the Reaper was right. Even a pit of fire was kinder than this filthy life. Not once had she ever been at ease in this fucked up realm. She wanted to be Julie the cold hard bitch again. She was disgusted with herself. Crying was gross. Feeling was awful.


    The sun disappeared behind the horizon with no fanfare. Julie felt stuck in her thoughts, too wired to sleep. She began to ruminate on the past.


    As a child, she had been abused and discarded. It hurt so much. She had always¡­just wanted to be loved.


    She blinked.


    Lady Ori sat up in bed, confused. How old was she again? She¡¯d been seven years old just a few minutes ago, why was she suddenly twenty-three?


    She looked at her hands and felt her face, feeling panicked. ¡°Hello?¡± she thought. ¡°Hello?!¡±


    No one answered.


    Where was Julie?


    Was she Julie?


    Lady Ori felt odd. She jumped up and looked into the mirror, then winced. All her injuries seemed worse then before. Everything hurt. But more importantly, Lady Ori looked old. Way too old to be seven.


    Lady Ori sat down on the floor, deep in thought. She whispered to herself in the mirror. ¡°Am I Julie? No. But I have her memories. I have Baby Ori¡¯s memories too.¡±


    She could remember so many horrible childhood moments. It was overwhelming.


    Lady Ori¡¯s reflection flinched. ¡°What happened? Am I okay?¡± She tongued the bloody spot in the back of her mouth where her tooth had been. She did not feel okay.


    Was this because Baby Ori had surrendered the body? Was this because Julie had finished her revenge?


    Lady Ori gasped and pointed at her reflection, ¡°Wait, am I one soul now?! Is this what the reapers meant?!¡±


    Lady Ori¡¯s head spun. She was a soul that had always lived in this world. When she wad a little girl, she was called Ori.


    She was a transmigrated spirit. Her name used to be Julie. She had already spent an entire lifetime in another world, fucking around and snorting cocaine.


    She was a woman with a strong identity; a cutthroat bitch who murdered her mother and stabbed her step-brother in his dick. But she was also sensitive and nervous; playful and selfish.


    Lady Ori laughed in disbelief. She crawled back into the soft bed and cuddled into the pillows.


    She looked at her hands again, which felt heavy with her soul inside. She no longer looked through the eyes, she simply saw with them.


    Ori became Ori on a bed caked in her late mother¡¯s blood. She chuckled to herself.


    The Knights on the other side of the door exchanged glances.


    ¨D


    An attendant rushed into the King¡¯s morning meetings with a letter. He awaited his turn, then passed the letter to the King.


    The King read its contents as his court stood in silence. He looked down at the attendant from his throne. ¡°Call for the palace doctors and have them attend this evening¡¯s meetings. Then write a summons for the following men.¡± The King rattled off names and titles.


    The court mumbled and shifted in response. ¡°It sounds like His Majesty is preparing for¡­¡± ¡°¡­yes, perhaps he will meet with Lady Ori de Rohan¡­¡± ¡°¡­today?¡± ¡°¡­why doctors? Who is injured?¡±


    That order of business done, the King¡¯s court moved on to other affairs. Soon, they would meet Lady Ori de Rohan.

 Chapter 8 . The Secret Keeper Tells

    Knights and men entered Lady Ori¡¯s new room without ceremony or greeting. There was an older man she didn¡¯t know, and her Uncle Foix. He was much older then she remembered.


    Lady Ori stared at them. She wore only her open undergarments. The blood splattered gown she had ripped off her body lay on the floor.


    Her hair, face and hands shone with the dried blood of Sir Jonathon and the late Contessa de Rohan. Her black eye made her face look grotesque and distorted.


    The men¡¯s jaws fell open. They made loud, startled noises, and pushed the disgruntled knights outside. In a frenzy, they closed the door behind them.


    Lady Ori rolled her eyes by habit, which sent stinging and whipping pain through her face and skull. ¡°Augh, ow.¡±


    ¡°H-how dare you!!¡± Count de Artois was bellowing from behind her door, ¡°Get Lady Ori a maid and washing water at once! Are you all insane?! How long have you kept a lady alone in this state?! Are you all bereft of reason?!¡±


    ¡°O-Ori? I-is that really you?¡± Her uncle called from behind the door. He sounded afraid.


    Her heart melted a bit. ¡°Yes, uncle, it¡¯s me.¡±


    From behind the large white door, Foix balled his fists and looked down at his shoes. He could not even recognize his own niece. It disturbed him. His brain churned. He had never seen a woman with a black eye in his life.


    With the fury of a father, Foix began yelling curses at the knights around him. He growled for someone to tell him when Lady Ori had last eaten.


    Of course, she¡¯d not been fed.


    Lady Ori listened. After a pause, there were sounds of tussling and shouting. The door crashed and bumped on its hinges as men settled scores.


    Lady Ori sighed and sat down on the edge of the bed, bored. It had been about a day since she had slit her mother¡¯s throat. She was thirsty.


    A woman¡¯s voice joined the fray, and a KNOCK-KNOCK came at the door. ¡°Little lady? May I come see you?¡±


    A maid cracked open the door and peered inside. She screamed in horror at the sight of Lady Ori¡¯s face and state of dress.


    Lady Ori did not react.


    ¡°My Lady, my little lady!¡± The maid sobbed, picking up a basin from the doorway and setting it in the washing station. ¡°What has your mother done to you now? By god and the devil. By god and the devil.¡±


    Lady Ori felt annoyed by her dramatics.


    The maid was quick to start her job. She removed Julie¡¯s undergarments, sobbing all along. ¡°My god, my god, my poor little baby.¡± She sniffled at the old bruises on Lady Ori¡¯s back. ¡°I only stayed working here for you! You sweet innocent thing.¡±


    Lady Ori eyed her with suspicion. This maid had indeed worked at the estate for as long as Lady Ori could remember. ¡°Don¡¯t lie.¡±


    The maid continued to profess her loyalty as truth. The soapy water turned red, and she stepped outside to ask another servant for serval more basins.


    When Lady Ori had washed and dressed in a loose nightgown, she was placed in another clean room. The walls were a pleasing green, and it contained a sitting area.


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    Now that Uncle Foix and Artois were here, the servants and the knights hustled under their orders. A doctor came to address her wounds.


    Lady Ori sat, eating breakfast and supping tea. She practiced feeling her body, instead of feeling herself inside the body. It was actually a lot more comfortable then she thought. Although, the pain was terrible.


    The doctor, a woman, gestured for Lady Ori to stand. She sucked in her teeth and tutted as she examined Lady Ori¡¯s back and thighs. ¡°These are three days old, give or take.¡± She told the men, gesturing at her back. ¡°Her eye is new. She¡¯s underweight.¡± She turned to Lady Ori, ¡°When have you eaten last?¡±


    Lady Ori shrugged, motioning to her maid to pour more tea.


    With quick, professional hands, the doctor covered Lady Ori¡¯s face in medicines. Pasty salves, odd smelling oils, and bandages. ¡°It will heal in, perhaps, three weeks.¡±


    ¡°This is unheard of,¡± her uncle growled, looking away. He seemed ready to murder someone himself. The reddish tint of his hair was more pronounced with his face flushed with anger. ¡°Who did such a thing to you?¡±


    Lady Ori looked up at her uncle with one beautiful blue eye. She had never told anyone out loud before. Would they even believe her? ¡°Uncle¡­did you know that mother was beating me?¡±


    All the redness of her uncle¡¯s face drained away. He had gone deathly pale. ¡°My¡­sister in law did this?¡±


    Artois watched the two of them in silence.


    ¡ª-


    After hearing Lady Ori¡¯s explanation of events, Count de Artois¡¯ plan was very clear. He would present the beaten and bruised Lady Ori to the King as soon as possible. This way, the King could bear witness to her before she healed. The shock of a noble lady with such a visible wound would greatly help their case.


    He held out his hand to help her out of the carriage. His brown eyes glimmered with sympathy.


    Lady Ori took his hand. She slashed her chilling glare at him.


    He offered her a weak smile. ¡°I promise you that you¡¯ll have access to pain medication in just a bit, my lady. For now, please endure it until after the King¡¯s evening meetings.¡±


    Lady Ori looked away and stepped down from the carriage. The bumping of it had been excruciating. No matter how relaxed she had tried to keep her face, the muscles still spasmed with each movement. The pain made her livid, and the ride had taken too long.


    The older maid who had washed and dressed Lady Ori that morning stepped out of the carriage as well. She looked miserable.


    Uncle Foix came down from his seat next to the coachman. ¡°Are you ready?¡±


    Lady Ori looked at him. She was wearing a new dress, and her hair was braided. Her face was bare and bandaged. The contrast of it was ridiculous. ¡°Yes.¡±


    An attendant bowed to them, and led them through the labyrinth of gardens and rooms.


    The large dark doors of the King¡¯s evening meetings were flanked by royal knights.


    ¡°Do not be afraid,¡± Count de Artois told her as he escorted her through the doors. ¡°Do not be humiliated, either. Only tell the King the truth.¡±


    Open gasps and mutterings of horror followed them as they walked.


    Count de Broglie, her intended¡¯s father, blew out breath from his lungs, incredulous. Was that really his future daughter in law? He could not recognize her.


    Lady Ori walked with purpose, her back straight. There was no difference between a night club and a throne room. Her presence demanded attention, and she was not ashamed.


    The King frowned and leaned back into his throne.


    Artois and Foix bowed to him, and Lady Ori curtsied. They greeted the King with reverence.


    The maid stepped to the side, invisible.


    Artois started the show. ¡°Your Majesty, please allow us to remove Lady Ori¡¯s bandages.¡±


    There were furious calls for the King to refuse this request. They bellowed that they worried for Lady Ori¡¯s marriage prospects, and her honor.


    The King turned his eyes to Lady Ori. ¡°Will you show the Court your wounds, my lady?¡±


    She stared back at him with one sharp blue eye. ¡°I will, your Majesty.¡± Let them see. This nasty black eye had only been bringing her good luck so far.


    The King held up his hand and the court went quiet.


    The palace doctors snipped away at Lady Ori¡¯s bandages. ¡°We shall re-set them after the meetings, my lady.¡±


    Someone yelped. Another person shouted, ¡°Oh!¡± but most stood frozen. They covered their mouths with their hands, or looked around in shock.


    The King looked upon her, speechless. He took a breath and collected himself. ¡°Lady Ori de Rohan.¡±


    Lady Ori settled her gaze on him. He was not quite old and not quiet young, at age thirty-five. He was graying, but still handsome. ¡°Yes, your Majesty.¡±


    The King eyed her. ¡°I have met you countless times, from banquets to balls. Never did I expect to see you before me in this way. I have only one question for you.¡± He leaned forward in his throne, and looked down upon her. It gave the impression that he had grown larger. ¡°Did you murder your mother¡ªContessa de Rohan¡ªLady Ori?¡±


    Lady Ori¡¯s bare lips flashed into an imperceptible smile, then vanished. ¡°Yes, your Majesty.¡±

 Chapter 9 . Complexity of Feeling

    Baby Ori lay back into the grass and stared up at the moon she¡¯d made. Other inner children lay beside her. They were holding hands.


    ¡°Did you know,¡± Baby Ori said, ¡°That in the real world, the moon changes all the time? Sometimes it will be half a moon or just a sliver of the moon.¡±


    The child next to her rolled over, enjoying the crinkle of the grass and the wet dew. ¡°I don¡¯t care,¡± she said, ¡°I hate the real world.¡±


    Ori smiled, though it was sad ¡°Me too. The real world is hell. A Reaper told me so.¡± She watched a firefly flit by.


    The other child continued to roll around, giggling. ¡°I don¡¯t know what that means.¡±


    That was so funny. That was the funniest thing they ever heard.


    Once the little girls got going, they couldn¡¯t stop laughing. They laughed from the bottom of their tummies. They squealed so hard that they had to get up and run around the fields.


    ¡°I got a frog! Look!! It¡¯s in my hands!¡± Someone yelled.


    ¡°I see it!!¡± Screamed another.


    A child from the forest toddled into Baby Ori. ¡°I¡¯m scared.¡± They cried. The mood changed as if a sudden storm cloud had covered the moon.


    Baby Ori felt nervous. ¡°Don¡¯t be scared. Everything¡¯s okay.¡±


    Underneath the starry sky, the child balled its little fists and cried. ¡°Is not. I bad. I scared.¡±


    The children gathered around the weeping child. They hushed and soothed them with little children¡¯s voices


    ¡°Look at my frog.¡± Offered the child with the frog.


    Moments like these happened sometimes, on the inside. But it was okay because everything was okay.


    That was the world that Baby Ori made.


    ¡ª-


    The King sat back as the court exploded in jeering and mockery at Lady Ori¡¯s confession. There was no way that such a frail, kind child could have killed her mother.


    The King lifted his hand once again. ¡°If Lady Ori has confessed with her own lips, then why have you brought her Artois?¡±


    Artois bowed again. ¡°It is a matter of the law. All Lady Ori¡¯s current injuries were inflicted upon her by the Knights de Rohan and the late Contessa.¡±


    Count de Candel, Contessa de Rohan¡¯s younger brother, snarled in disgust. ¡°Lies!¡± he shouted. ¡°Do not lie, Ori!¡±


    No one agreed with him. Some of the Court exchanged glances, then looked away.


    Artois ignored Candel. ¡°This constitutes a waving of wrongdoing as per ¡®Protection of the Skirts¡¯ and ¡®Proof of Near-Death¡¯.¡±


    The King nodded.


    What followed were many half-truths and outright lies. Lady Ori had told Artois a version of events that painted herself in a pitiful, blameless light.


    Artois described Lady Ori¡¯s history of childhood abuse and neglect. That bit was true.


    He told the Kimg that Sir Jonathon had visited her often, spitting venom and threatening her life.


    That was a lie. That scummy little bastard was too frightened to dare visit her again.


    Artois spoke about how the Contessa favored her bastard son and would beat Lady Ori on his orders.


    That was laughable. Contessa de Rohan had used Lady Ori as a whipping boy. She didn¡¯t favor Sir Jonathon. She had enjoyed harming Ori.


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    Artois then spoke about Jonathon¡¯s deranged attempt to kill her when he saw that she had acquired a dagger.


    Of course, that never happened.


    Artois was an elegant speaker. Lady Ori could see herself enjoying all this¡ªafter two ibuprofen, a blunt, and a fucking nap.


    Artois sighed, caught up in his dramatics. He described how Lady Ori had begged and pleaded for a dagger that very day. ¡°She had no other choice but to protect herself against a knight twice her size!¡±


    The King¡¯s face darkened. ¡°The Knights de Rohan refused Lady Ori a dagger for the Lady¡¯s undergarments?¡±


    Artois nodded, solemn. ¡°Yes, your Majesty.¡±


    Lady Ori bit her lips to keep from chuckling. She pretended to be holding back tears.


    ¡®Protection of the Skirts¡¯ was a right afforded to all women and girls. Even girls as young as five carried sheathed daggers under their skirts. Girls of more common birth carried utility knives.


    They had never allowed Baby Ori a dagger.


    By refusing her this basic right, the Knights de Rohan had legitimized her entire story. Even if half of it was bullshit.


    Artois continued, his brown eyes glowing with indignation. ¡°Soon after, Contessa de Rohan went into Lady Ori¡¯s room.¡±


    He described the scene. Contessa de Rohan, livid, unlocking the door of her daughter¡¯s bedroom. Like a black shadow, she stood over Lady Ori, intent on killing her. All for attacking her favorite child¡ªthe bastard son.


    In the audience, Count de Candel frothed with dissent. ¡°Brother-in-law!¡± He called to Foix. ¡°How can you do this?!¡±


    The King turned his eyes to Lady Ori again. ¡°My Lady,¡± he told her, ¡°It sounds as if you have lived a very unfortunate life.


    Lady Ori stared at him. What did he want? Should she pretend to cry?


    He stroked his chin, thinking. ¡°I would like to hear from Lady Ori. My Lady, tell the Court how Contessa de Rohan died.¡±


    Foix stood in front of his niece, ¡°Your Majesty, please allow Lady Ori to rest.¡±


    The King shook his head. ¡°You may rest soon, Lady Ori. Right now, tell me your story in your own words.¡±


    Lady Ori narrowed her eye. Who cared if she killed some abusive cunt that nobody liked?


    This body has been abused and traumatized by people who were tasked to care for it. What else could the King want?


    She gathered her thoughts and ran her story over again in her mind. The crowd seemed sympathetic, she should use that.


    She bowed her head. She spoke in a soft, lilting voice to describe a myriad of atrocities to the Court. All that had happened to Baby Ori in their past.


    Speaking it out loud, the body whipped itself into a frenzy. Her heart began to pump in her ears, and adrenaline sped through every cell. She began to tremble all over. Her voice wavered with emotion. She could see everything happening as if she were there, experiencing it again.


    Of course, that didn¡¯t mean she had to tell the truth.


    Lady Ori took these strong emotions in her hands and began to spin them into a thread. She settled into the power of the moment. She wove her web with each word. She married the truth to her lies. She brought the Court to tears.


    Even Count de Candel had gone quiet.


    Swaying the crowd was satisfying in the same way that sitting on a man was satisfying. She liked to make them wait, to beg for it; To die for it. The mood was perfect.


    She looked up at the King at all the right moments to stir his heart. Acting could be fun too. She could play pretend if it meant she could live.


    The Court and the King could not help but feel moved. Poor, pitiful Lady Ori. She became the very picture of a soft-spoken, kind-hearted virgin with a black eye.


    Men were so fucking stupid.


    She clenched her hands in her lap. ¡°I believe the Knights de Rohan confused my screaming for the Contessa¡¯s.¡±


    Her mother¡¯s face welled up in her mind. Lady Ori struggled to suppress her wrathful facial expressions. She sniffled, then winced.¡°Usually, I do not interfere, your Majesty.¡±


    These words hurt. Lady Ori didn¡¯t want to say them. ¡°I try to fall asleep¡­or¡­I roll into a ball.¡± Her voice came out in a whisper. ¡°I go limp.¡±


    The suffering baby Ori had experienced¡­


    Lady Ori paused, but hot angry tears poured from her eyes anyway. She grit her teeth even as her face throbbed in pain.


    If she could slit her mother¡¯s throat again, she would. She would do it a hundred thousand times.


    The King listened.


    Lady Ori took a deep, shaky in-breath. This lie was the most important. Would they believe her? ¡°I was so frightened to die, your Majesty. This time, I fought back like an animal.¡±


    There were rumblings among the Court.


    She struggled with the complexity of her emotions. She did not twist her head to look at their expressions. It didn¡¯t matter.


    She took a moment to dab at her tears. This moment of heightened tension was her favorite part. She should enjoy it while she can. She¡¯d need to control herself. ¡°I grabbed at the Contessa. I found the dagger.¡±


    She suppressed her urge to laugh with her whole chest by curling inward. She bit her lip.


    Fought back? Frightened to die? Those were descriptors for other people. Killing her mother had felt good. Every injury she inflicted on that bloated demon was a moment closer to freedom.


    That euphoria was why Baby Ori had left. She could neither enjoy that freedom, nor the frightening pleasure of it. Those feelings belonged to Lady Ori, now.


    Next to her, Uncle Foix took out a handkerchief and covered his face.


    Lady Ori looked at him and almost recoiled in surprise. He was outright keening. She glanced at the King, at a loss for what to do.


    The King pitied him, ¡°I¡¯m sure you are also thinking of your daughters, Foix. This is hard for all of us to hear.¡±


    The King sighed and shook his head. ¡°I have heard enough. Go and rest, Lady Ori de Rohan, Count de Foix, Count de Artois. I shall hear from Knights de Rohan and Sir Jonathon de Rohan tomorrow morning. My decision will come sometime after.¡±


    Lady Ori glanced at her Uncle Foix again, nervous. Watching him sob, she felt like she had done something wrong.


    She hadn¡¯t meant to upset him.

 Chapter 10 . Transformation

    The childhood Oris had taken a vote. Every day, they would take a hike through the woods close to their cottage, and search for lost inner children. Not everyone came; that was okay.


    Baby Ori could not believe there were so many children and fragments of children in the forest. Before, in consciousness, she had believed she was the only child left in the body. And perhaps, at one point she had been.


    Often, the found-children wore monster costumes. They growled and roared and said, ¡°Stay away! Stay away from me!¡±


    Yet, if you dared to look closely, you could see the cheap fabric and the buttons holding it all together.


    The Oris would tell them, ¡°No, you¡¯re not a monster. Come live with us. We can play all day, and you can have your own room in our cottage.¡±


    As miraculous as magic, the costume would fall away. Underneath it all would be a child, crying tears of relief. It was lonely to be a monster in a sea of unconscious darkness. It was confusing to be a child that only existed to be thrown away. It was hellish to be stuck inside a traumatic memory, forever.


    How clever and pragmatic the human body was. How did it learn to make itself into a many-layered collage before it could even speak? How did it learn to be its own community?


    Since the body could do all this from birth, it begged the question: is every human being a collection of millions of moments, and each moment is contained by millions of selves?


    Well, these thoughts were too deep for Baby Ori. They came and went, like fallen leaves drifting down the creek.


    ¡°This is the main hallway,¡± Baby Ori was telling a new Ori. ¡°All you have to do is wish for it, and a new room will appear.¡± She smiled, ¡°You can design it however you¡¯d like!¡±


    The new child, in awe, looked at the empty wall. ¡°Anything I like?¡±


    Baby Ori giggled, ¡°Yes! And you can lock your door, or keep it open. You can make it bright inside, or dark. You can come outside to play, or you can stay inside. It¡¯s up to you.¡±


    In an instant, a door appeared. The new child ran to it, slipped inside, and shut it.


    Baby Ori heard it lock. Feeling satisfied, she left the cottage to play.


    Today the fields were full of bright orange butterflies.


    ¡ª-


    It had been two mornings since Lady Ori had spoken to the King and his Court. She¡¯d decided to accept her Uncle Foix¡¯s invitation to stay at his estate after she¡¯d seen him cry. She had been curious after seeing the expression of regret and grief on his face.


    She sat in the garden with her cousins, Juju and Fion, drinking tea. It was a dreamlike moment.


    Foix¡¯s youngest, Fion, sat close and had her arm linked with Lady Ori¡¯s. She was chatting idly.


    The eldest daughter, Juju, was patting the little dog on her lap and listening.


    Lady Ori was weaving wildflowers in the way they had taught her. Later, she¡¯d probably just throw them away.


    Count and Contessa Foix entered the garden, their faces pale.


    Count de Artois followed them.


    Lady Ori stopped her weaving.


    After quick greetings, Artois nodded to her. ¡°I come bearing news.¡±


    Both Foix daughters sat up straighter and looked at their cousin with worried expressions.


    Lady Ori was in a specific sort of mood but was glad to see Artois.


    The Foix estate was idyllic. The parents loved their children. The children loved their parents. As a result, the servants never looked nervous or uncomfortable. The house ran with little to no drama. The food was excellent, and the animals were well cared for.


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    Lady Ori could barely stand the unease she felt in this environment. She waited for the next shoe to drop: for her cousins to get into a fist fight, or for her Aunt and Uncle to berate her. She expected a servant to disrespect her. She even felt suspicious of the food. When they smiled at her, she frowned.


    She had thoughts like: Why would these people allow her to stay here? What did they want from her? Why were they pretending to like her?


    She would have preferred to stay in the Rohan estate with all its familiar horrors. That was why, when Artois entered the garden, she felt incredible relief. Here, finally, was bad news.


    Lady Ori felt blessed adrenaline creep through her body as she prepared herself.


    If she were to be realistic, it was more likely that the King would prefer to put her to death. If so, she¡¯d need to feel out Artois and see if he would be willing to aid in her escape.


    There was no issue with money or lodgings. She¡¯d done sex work before, as Julie, so she¡¯d be able to survive no matter where she went. If she made enough, she could even open up an upscale brothel in another country¡ª


    ¡°You seem to be in deep thought, my lady,¡± Artois said. ¡°Although I don¡¯t know how you¡¯ll feel about this¡ª.¡±


    Lady Ori blinked, remembering where she was.


    ¡°My Lady, Sir Jonathon has been sentenced to hanging. The Knights de Rohan have been dismantled¡ª¡°


    Lady Ori began to tingle all over like glitter was running up her bloodstream.


    Sir Artois smiled, ¡°This part is wholly good news, however. You¡¯ve been cleared of all wrongdoing.¡±


    Lady Ori looked down at the flowers she had been weaving. She looked at her elder cousin, Juju, and then her younger cousin, Fion.


    Both young women were not looking at her, they were looking at their mother.


    Contessa Foix stood next to her husband, elegant and proud. Her elder sister, Contessa de Rohan, was dead. Her niece, a murderer. Her illegitimate nephew, once a decently respected knight, would be hung. Tears streamed down her face. She held her head high and said nothing.


    Lady Ori then looked at her Uncle Foix.


    He, too, was looking at his wife. He encircled her in a gentle hug, shielding her face from Artois.


    Soon, his daughters joined him. Even the little dog sat at their feet.


    Awkwardness hung in the air around Lady Ori.


    The Foix family were neither close enough to celebrate her revenge, nor distant enough to be unaffected by this outcome.


    Lady Ori stood up and gestured for Artois to follow her.


    He raised his eyebrows and did so. They walked out of the gardens and back into the estate.


    Behind them, the Foix family were talking and soothing each other.


    Lady Ori ordered tea service and then offered Artois a seat in the sitting room. ¡°What does this mean, ultimately, Count de Artois?¡±


    Artois clasped his hands in his lap. ¡°The Rohan estate is expected to be inherited by your cousin, Luke de Candel. He will bring his knights, so ultimately this decision will not affect him.¡±


    Lady Ori sighed. ¡°So I¡¯m being kicked out.¡±


    Artois nodded, ¡°Unless the Contessa¡¯s Last Will and Testament says otherwise.¡±


    Lady Ori scoffed. The tea arrived and she poured Artois a cup. ¡°I like you very much, Lord Artois.¡±


    Artois smiled into his tea, ¡°That¡¯s very kind of you, Lady Ori.¡±


    Lady Ori took a sip from her cup, then set it back onto the saucer. ¡°Can I be very frank with you?¡±


    Artois set his cup down. ¡°Yes, go ahead.¡±


    Lady Ori sighed through her nose and crossed her legs. ¡°I¡¯m more than sure that I¡¯ll inherit nothing from Contessa de Rohan.¡±


    Artois grimaced, ¡°That¡¯s very likely.¡±


    Lady Ori leaned in. ¡°Therefore, I¡¯m completely free. I own nothing but the Rohan name. I can go in any direction I¡¯d like.¡±


    Artois looked surprised. ¡°You are engaged, my lady.¡±


    Lady Ori tilted her head. ¡°You don¡¯t really believe the Broglie family would allow me to marry their son, do you? I¡¯ve already admitted to slitting my own mother¡¯s throat.¡±


    Artois was glad he had set down his teacup. The woman in front of him seemed to be an entirely different person than he¡¯d met before. Chills rolled down his spine. ¡°My lady¡­to say it like that¡­¡±


    Lady Ori nodded. She leaned back and crossed her arms, looking out the window. It was a beautiful sunny day. Not a cloud in the sky. ¡°Artois, do you have any sons?¡±


    Artois began to feel uncomfortable. He rubbed his chin. ¡°Are you hoping to marry into the Artois family, my Lady?¡±


    Lady Ori continued to look out of the window. A beautiful black spider was crawling on the window sill. ¡°It¡¯s an option.¡± She turned her sharp blue eyes on him. ¡°Not my only option, but I wouldn¡¯t mind looking at them.¡±


    Artois paused for a long time. ¡°Will you be staying with the Foix family?¡±


    Lady Ori pulled a face. ¡°My God, I hope not.¡± She picked up her teacup and drank. ¡°The longer I burden the Foix family the more awkward it will become.¡± She shook her head. ¡°I¡¯ll either need to marry soon, or run away.¡±


    Artois startled, ¡°Run away? Surely there¡¯s no reason to do that?¡±


    Lady Ori smiled at him, ¡°No reason? Look around, Lord Artois. There¡¯s a reason to run free in every bottle of laudanum, and every coca leaf.¡±


    ¡°My Lady!¡± coughed Artois.


    Lady Ori smirked at him. She did like Artois a lot. She thought that she wouldn¡¯t mind him as a father-in-law. He was easy to convince, and fun to scare. ¡°Well, invite me to dinner with your family if you¡¯d like. I¡¯ll always accept.¡±


    She set down her teacup. ¡°I suppose I¡¯ll have to go down and say goodbye to Jonathon.¡±


    Artois battled the desire to shiver. No¡ªthis was not the sweet, gentle Lady Ori of the rumors, nor the saddened and sickly girl of two days ago. This was an entirely different breed of woman. He excused himself and stood up to leave.


    She winked at him, her red lips curled into a mischievous smile, ¡°I await your letter, Lord Artois.¡±

 Chapter 11 . Bye-bye

    Lady Ori crossed her arms over the balcony railing of her bedroom. It was another beautiful spring day at the Foix estate. She closed her eyes and let the warmth of the sun hug her skin.


    A butterfly flitted by. Without a thought, she reached her hand out as if to let it rest on her fingers. Instead, it fluttered away towards the gardens.


    Lady Ori chuckled. Today she would get in a carriage and visit Jonathon in his cell. She would make sure his send-off was well worth her trouble.


    There was a soft knock at the door. ¡°My Lady, a letter arrived for you.¡±


    Lady Ori narrowed her eyes. She called in the servant and took the letter, then went to the large desk by the corner window. With a swift hand, she sliced open the top and pulled out the contents.


    The letter was from her fianc¨¦, Vellim de Broglie. The man who had not contacted her in half a week while she was tried for her mother¡¯s murder.


    Her heart thumped in her chest as she unfolded his stationery. She felt disgusted as feelings of love, yearning, and desperation washed over her.


    These were Baby Ori¡¯s leftover feelings.


    ¡°Gross.¡± Lady Ori muttered.


    She closed her eyes and opened herself up to memories of him, cringing. She was scared of what she might see.


    Memories drifted into her mind¡¯s eye, foggy and dreamlike.


    There were not that many memories to speak of.


    The Vellim she saw had an average build. He was easy to smile, handsome, and bookish.


    The kind, soft-spoken Vellim read under oak trees and enjoyed picnics near quiet lakes.


    Much to Lady Ori¡¯s relief, the moments he¡¯d had with Baby Ori seemed more like platonic friends on an outing. Nothing suggested they were lovers.


    Lady Ori opened her eyes.


    Still, what a freak. Who would court a person who acted like a seven-year-old child?


    She read his letter.


    My Dearest Ori,


    I am traveling from Kelksville with haste upon receiving word from my father. I am beside myself with worry and have received no news. Ori, why have you not written me?


    Sweet Ori, I shall see you soon. Please expect me at noon on Thursday at the Foix estate.


    Yours always,


    Vellim de Broglie


    Lady Ori huffed and put his letter to the side. She blushed from the tip of her toes to the crown of her head at the thought of him, but the man was suspicious. She called a servant and told them to prepare to receive her fianc¨¦ tomorrow at lunch.


    They bowed, ¡°My lady, the carriage has been prepared.¡±


    ¨D-


    Lady Ori was elated. Each bump of the wheels and nicker of the horses meant she was closer and closer to seeing Jonathon again.


    A Knight de Foix held out his hand to escort her out. He looked at her, worried. ¡°My lady, allow me to come with you.¡±


    An attendant led them through several heavily secured halls, and finally to a reinforced wooden door.


    Lady Ori stopped the Knight de Foix from following her in. ¡°This is too personal, Sir Knight. I want to see Jonathon alone.¡±


    If you spot this story on Amazon, know that it has been stolen. Report the violation.He was torn, but could not disobey her.


    Lady Ori bit her bottom lip to keep from laughing as the heavy, barred door was opened.


    She was escorted down the stairs.


    Jonathan, in his cell, made a startled, garbled noise.


    Lady Ori sent the attendant away.


    He bowed, then left.


    Jonathon was at the bars of his cell, furious. ¡°ORI YOU FUCKING BITCH!!! HOW DARE YOU SHOW YOUR FACE! I HATE YOU, I LOATHE YOU!¡±


    The door slammed shut. It was just she and Jonathon now.


    She couldn¡¯t hold it in anymore.


    He was wearing rags, and his eyes and face were bloated from crying. He winced in pain from the injury in his groin.


    Lady Ori threw back her head and laughed. She laughed so hard she cried. She cried so hard she began coughing, and when she had caught her breath, she wheezed.


    ¡°Oh my, I can¡¯t breathe,¡± she said, wiping away her tears as Jonathon frothed at the mouth and cursed her.


    ¡°Did you think I cracked your balls because I like you, elder brother?¡±


    Jonathon howled in frustration and attempted to shake the bars of his cell. Instead, he flailed around. The bars were made well and did not move. ¡°My life has been HELL ever since you were BORN, Ori de Rohan!¡± he screamed.


    ¡°Hey, Bastard,¡± Lady Ori chuckled. ¡°Does your brain even work? Has your life really been hell ever since I was born? It was hell before that.¡±


    ¡°YOU DEMON! YOU TORTUROUS BITCH!¡±


    Lady Ori giggled, wiping away another tear. At this rate, she¡¯d have no makeup by the end of this visit. ¡°Are you talking to mother right now? Is she in here~?¡±


    Jonathon went silent.


    Lady Ori¡¯s face had gone mirthless. Her powerful glare burned him.


    He didn¡¯t remember, but she did.


    It was Jonathon who had found Baby Ori in the halls and stalked her while she ran.


    ¡°Jonathon, do you think I believe that our mother never hit you? That she never starved you? That she never abandoned you?¡±


    It was Jonathon who slammed open the door Baby Ori was so desperate to lock.


    Jonathon was taken aback, ¡°The late Contessa¨D¡°


    ¡°Jonathon, your life got worse when I was born? Really? Isn¡¯t it actually that the moment I was born, your life got better?¡±


    Jonathon¡¯s mouth went dry.


    It was Jonathon who stepped aside and watched as their mother murdered Baby Ori¨Dbeaten to death, eyes open, crying in the arms of a Reaper.


    ¡°Your baby sister became mother¡¯s little whipping girl.¡± Lady Ori¡¯s face curled into a snarl. ¡°What a blessing for you, elder brother!¡±


    Jonathon began to tremble. The look in his Ori¡¯s eyes was unfathomable. The depth of hatred she held for him was unknowable. She looked, for a terrible moment, like their mother.


    Lady Ori took a deep breath and eked out a small smirk, ¡°I¡¯ll tell you something, Jonathon, because you¡¯re a fucking idiot and you¡¯d never figure this out on your own.¡±


    Jonathon could not break his eyes away from hers. It was as if she was gripping him by the collar.


    ¡°Your baby sister was never the source of your problems. Never. You grew up to have power and reputation and you still chose to lick mother¡¯s feet.¡±


    Jonathon began to shake his head. The pain in his groin was worse now. ¡°That¡¯s not true,¡± he whined. ¡°I¨D¡°


    ¡°And you dare swear at me? Blame me?¡± Lady Ori¡¯s eyes grew more and more fierce. ¡°Jonathon, everyone called you mother¡¯s Bastard son. Then they called you a Knight de Rohan.¡±


    She seethed. ¡°Isn¡¯t it funny? Why all the titles? Someone spineless like you doesn¡¯t need a name. You are a coward.¡±


    Jonathon began to cry. He put his head in his hands and wept loudly like a child. ¡°You¡¯re selfish, Ori. Mother hurt me, you hurt me. Everyone hurts me.¡±


    Lady Ori watched him cry, disgusted. ¡°Maybe the two of us are filled with children who cry like this.¡±


    Jonathan''s keening sobs were too loud. He was unable to hear her.


    Lady Ori would show him the same mercy he had shown Baby Ori: none at all.


    She lowered her voice to a whisper and walked closer to him. Her heels hit the cold stone floor like a blade hitting ice. ¡°I¡¯m talking to all the adults inside of you, Jonathon.¡±


    She barred her teeth at him and itched to grab him. ¡°Once you and your worthless fucking soul are gone from this world; hanging from the public gallows like the absolute sack of rotten shit that you are,¡± she smiled and chuckled, ¡°I¡¯m going to snuggle into my big soft bed, close my little eyes, and never once think about you or mother ever again.¡±


    Jonathon continued to cry and curse her.


    She watched him until she was satisfied. ¡°Well,¡± she sighed, feeling tired, ¡°Enjoy your very last pity party. When you see the Reaper in an hour or so, tell him I sent you.¡±


    ¡°Do you not pity me?!¡± He shrieked. ¡°I pitied you!¡±


    Lady Ori clicked open an ornate compact mirror and checked her face. It was a mess. She took her hand and gently rubbed the mascara downwards. She snapped the compact closed. ¡°Jonathon,¡± she scoffed, ¡°Boo hoo.¡±


    She smirked at him, then took her time heading back up the stairway.


    Jonathon screamed in agony and frustration.


    The door closed behind Lady Ori with a BOOM, and the board that locked it thumped into place.


    Lady Ori did not attend his hanging; she had watched him struggle to live for long enough.

 Chapter 12 . Vellim de Broglie

    Today¡¯s hike in the Unconscious Forest was spooky. It was much darker than usual, and there were many weird noises.


    Usually, Baby Ori could decide what the forest looked like, but today she could not. It was strange. It gave her goosebumps.


    ¡°I done.¡± Said an Ori. ¡°Too scary.¡±


    The other children agreed and left together.


    Only Baby Ori stayed. She had a terrible feeling in her chest. This feeling might be another child who thought it was a monster. She wanted to keep trying to find them. Yet no matter how long she hiked, she couldn¡¯t find any more Oris.


    The treeline stopped, and she reached the end. An iron gate rose before her. Curious, Baby Ori peered between the iron bars.


    ¡°Oh? Baby Ori?¡± said a voice.


    ¡°WAAAH!¡± Yelled Baby Ori, falling back on her bottom.


    ¡°WAAAH!¡± said the voice. ¡°Hey! Why are you yelling?! You scared me!¡±


    Baby Ori stood up, embarrassed, swiping dirt and clay from her bottom. She looked up at the boy behind the gate.


    He had sandy blonde hair and green eyes. He did not seem to be much older than she was.


    She squinted at him. ¡°Are¡­you an Ori?¡±


    The blonde child smiled, ¡°No, not an Ori. I¡¯m a Thomas. I guard the gate.¡±


    Ori smooshed her face into the bars, ¡°Why are you in the body?¡±


    Thomas huffed, ¡°I¡¯ve probably been here longer than you.¡±


    ¡°No way.¡±


    Thomas leaned over and poked one of her squishy cheeks. ¡°Yup. I guard the gate. Which means you need to get off of it.¡±


    Baby Ori backed up. ¡°What¡¯s behind the gate?¡±


    ¡°The Uppers,¡± Thomas said. ¡°They¡¯re the ones who decide everybody¡¯s jobs, and who screen the thoughts.¡±


    Baby Ori tilted her head. ¡°What does that mean, ¡®screen the thoughts¡¯.¡±


    Thomas tapped his foot. He wore cognac leather shoes that matched well with his smart outfit. ¡°It means that when we think, the Uppers see it, then decide if we can hear it.¡±


    ¡°What?!¡± Baby Ori exclaimed. She pressed her face up against the gate again.


    Thomas squished her cheeks. ¡°Well, only if you¡¯re conscious. You live here in the unconscious now, remember? You probably know a lot of things you didn¡¯t before.¡±


    Baby Ori pondered this.


    He was right. ¡°Oh,¡± tears began to fall from her eyes. ¡°Julie¨DI mean Lady Ori¨Dis crying. Jonathon¡¯s been hung.¡±


    Thomas sighed. ¡°It¡¯s complicated, being alive.¡± He shook his head woefully, ¡°If only Jonathon had been a good brother, even once¡­¡±


    Ori stood, hand on her aching heart. ¡°I didn¡¯t hate Jonathon.¡±


    Thomas shrugged, ¡°It wasn¡¯t your job to hate Jonathon. I guard the gate, and now you take care of the Oris. Everyone has a job. That¡¯s how the Uppers keep things working.¡±


    Ori pulled a face, tears still streaming from her eyes. She had decided to find the other Oris all by herself, not because the Uppers told her to. She curtsied to Thomas, ¡°I¡¯ll visit you again.¡±


    Thomas bowed, ¡°I look forward to it, Baby Ori. Just be sure not to touch the gate next time!¡±


    ¨D-


    Lady Ori grunted in frustration, poking her face in the mirror. Her bruise had healed four days worth, but since she cried all last night, she still looked terrible.


    She felt disappointed in herself. How could she have grieved over someone like Jonathon? Or maybe she had grieved for herself. That would have been marginally better.


    It was hard to live underneath the thumb of emotion. She thought of Baby Ori. At the very least, she hoped that her sister-soul¡¯s days were spent happily. She put her hand on her breast and felt her heartbeat. The sound of it meant that Baby Ori was safe.


    But, Lady Ori faced a huge problem. Now that she had finished getting revenge, she felt an emptiness and numbness where her rage used to be. Everyone she had been so angry at was now dead.


    She closed her eyes. For as long as she could remember she had always fought to live. Sometimes because of desperation, other times because of frustration, hatred, or spite.


    Now, everything was fine. Did that mean her body would throw her away and another identity would take her place?


    The idea gave her chills.


    Was she still¡­needed?


    ¡°Please don¡¯t throw me away.¡± She said to the mirror. She hoped that everyone was listening.


    ¨D-


    Vellim de Broglie¡¯s father¡¯s urgent letter had been short.


    Contessa de Rohan dead; struck Lady Ori; suspected of murder. Will see the King tomorrow.


    After reading it, Vellim had nearly thrown up. He¡¯d left Kelksville that very hour. Still, he had been late for everything. It ate at him. For two days he traveled in agony.


    His father filled him in on the rest. He could not believe it.


    Later, Vellim watched Jonathon hang. He didn¡¯t want to, but he wouldn¡¯t have been able to forgive himself if Lady Ori had been there alone. She never came, and for that he was glad. Jonathon¡¯s body twitched long after he was pronounced dead.


    A persistent thought tugged at him: who had murdered Contessa de Rohan? He did not believe Ori¡¯s confession.


    If you stumble upon this tale on Amazon, it''s taken without the author''s consent. Report it.


    Today, Vellim rode his horse from Broglie to Foix, as both estates were in the capital.


    Vellim handed his horse to a servant and walked up the steps of Foix estate. His heart thumped in his chest. Even if they weren¡¯t lovers in the usual sense, he had great affection for her. She was innocent and carefree¡ªbut now he knew that such a thing could not have been true.


    A servant greeted him saying that Lady Ori had prepared a sitting room. A part of him lamented, dismayed that she had not come out to meet him. He could not imagine her angry, but she must be.


    Foix was there. Vellim bowed and gave his greetings, but he could only think of Ori. Where was Ori?


    He beat himself up: A real man would have noticed that his fianc¨¦ was being maltreated. A true lover would have taken the initiative to learn more about his future wife. His friends had been right¡ªtheir relationship had been strange.


    He followed a servant. Before he even entered the room, he felt he might cry.


    ¡ª-


    Lady Ori¡¯s insides churned, all because she was about to see a man. It felt gross and unnatural. Did people live like this all the time¡ªbesotted and stupid? How long would she have to be in love with this creep, Vellim de Broglie?


    She toyed with the idea of breaking up with him the moment he stepped into the room. Then maybe she really would go visit the Artois boys and snap them up one by one.


    As if on cue, she heard murmuring and footsteps from the hall.


    She sat up straight, blushing¡ªshe was furious at her own reaction.


    Vellim¡¯s low voice swam into her ears from the hallway and spun around in her heart. He entered the room like he a beam of light.


    Lady Ori blinked, stunned. Vellim de Broglie was the most handsome man she¡¯d ever seen. Baby Ori¡¯s memories hadn¡¯t even begun to do him justice¡ªshe had missed all his best parts.


    His trousers were tight from the swell of his thighs. The hug of his doublet over his shirt enhanced the lines of his body underneath. His shoulders and chest were broad and strong. Even the curve of his lips was masterful.


    His lovely copper eyes met hers.


    Lady Ori had to bite her lip to keep from gasping. She leaped up and ran to him, throwing her arms around him.


    He caught her and held her close.


    They embraced, and Lady Ori wondered what the hell had happened. Her body had moved on its own.


    ¡ª-


    Vellim hugged Ori with all his might. He felt her release him first, but he held on. He was so thankful to see her. So thankful to hold her. It was the first time he¡¯d ever held her.


    He looked down at the frail woman in his arms. She looked undone. Her lip was trembling, and her right eye was swollen and purple. She looked as if she might faint at any moment.


    He let her go and brought his hands to her face. He caressed her bruises, and tears fell from his eyes.


    ¡°Sweet Ori,¡± he whispered.


    ¡ª-


    Baby Ori¡¯s feelings were so much stronger than she¡¯d thought. They had taken over her body like a horse rearing back and de-seating its master.


    ¡ª-


    Vellim lifted her into his arms without effort. How had he never noticed how thin she was? His heart ached. He sat her on the couch as gently as he could, then knelt at her lap. ¡°My God, I¡¯m so sorry, Ori.¡±


    ¡ª-


    Lady Ori¡¯s heart beat out of her chest. She grabbed the reins of her consciousness but her feelings shoved her to the side.


    She sighed and gave up. She knew what her body was up to, and if she couldn¡¯t beat it, she could at least join it.


    ¡ª-


    Vellim looked up into Ori¡¯s deep blue eyes. Her body was shaking, but she raised her hands and held his jaw. He rested his face in the palm of her hands. His heart was breaking. This was the most she had ever touched him. She must have been so scared; so lonely. He wept.


    She was bending towards him. He opened his eyes to look, and before he could react, she had lifted him to her lips. Vellim felt surprised, but he realized that he had yearned to do this. Her eyes were closed, and steady tears streamed from them. He closed his eyes as well, softening into her sweet kiss.


    He loved her. He loved Ori de Rohan.


    He felt the distance close between them. He felt guilt and ecstasy. Yet more shocking than her kiss was her tongue, which he felt flicker over his lips.


    Vellim pulled back, clapping a hand over his mouth. He felt all his blood rush toward his face and neck. She was staring at him, and the passion of her gaze made his head spin. If only she would say something!


    ¡°Ori, are you not angry at me?¡± He buried his face into her knees, hiding his blush. ¡°Why did you never confide in me? I would have married you immediately. I would have stolen you from that house in the middle of the night.¡±


    Instead of an answer, she opened her knees and slid onto him. Surprised, he leaned back and caught her. She was straddling him now. Ori smiled at him. He felt the heat between her thighs touch him, and he gasped, eyes closed.


    The loving touch of her arms around his neck, and the softness of her body¡ªit was all too much.


    Their eyes met. His heart stopped, trapped in the gaze of a tiger. She glanced away and began to kiss his cheeks. His heart began beating again, but he could barely think.


    He did not have any experience in matters like this. What would she do next? He felt her touch and her lips become hungrier.


    ¡°O-ori?¡± He pleaded. My god, this was a sitting room. Anyone could walk in at any moment.


    ¡°I don¡¯t blame you.¡± She whispered to him. He felt blessed by her words. His Sweet Ori. His beautiful Ori. He saw her eyes gaze at his lips and he wanted her to take them.


    ¡°I took care of it myself.¡± She leaned in, her eyelids dropping in anticipated pleasure.


    He froze as she kissed him. Very lightly, he took her shoulders and pulled away.


    She looked up at him, confused.


    He searched her face for answers. ¡°What¡­do you mean you ¡®took care of it¡¯?¡±


    She fondled his ears lovingly. ¡°Vellim,¡± she sliced up her cold eyes to meet his, ¡°I won¡¯t repeat myself.¡±


    Vellim¡¯s blood turned to ice. He shivered under her. ¡°I don¡¯t understand. We shouldn¡¯t be doing this.¡± Still, his large, warm hands rested on the curve of her waist. ¡°I wanted to ask you¡­¡± he faltered.


    Lady Ori smirked and nuzzled his ear. He couldn¡¯t help but enjoy it. His eyes fluttered. He felt her tongue lick the length of his ear and felt his blood warm again.


    As he pondered when he would move away, she rolled her hips. He moaned as he felt hot, wet warmth spread over him.


    Impossibly, amazingly, wonderfully, she moaned his in ear.


    ¡°Vellim,¡± she kissed him.


    This time he was powerless to her whim.


    He felt her tongue push into the depths of his mouth, intent to strangle him. ¡°Vellim. I¡¯m not helpless. You never have to save me.¡± she was whispering into his lips. How could she make him feel this way? How could her tongue taste so sweet?


    He felt caught in a web, unable to move, unable to escape. She lifted her hips up, and he missed the feel of her. Before he could react, she slipped him out of his trousers and he grasped her waist in surprise. All protests died in his throat; he wanted to see what she would do with him.


    Her smooth fingers angled him. ¡°Let me ride you,¡± she told him.


    His mind went blank. ¡°N-no,¡± he said.


    She tilted her head, ¡°No?¡± she leaned in and nibbled his neck. ¡°Do you know how wet I am, Vellim? Do you want to feel?¡±


    He did. She took his hand and pulled it under her skirts. He moaned at the feel of her and she giggled in his ear. She pressed herself into his fingers. She was so soft and hot that his hand would surly melt in.


    ¡°Taste your fingers, Vellim.¡± Her words felt like the crooning call of the devil. ¡°I need to see you taste me.¡±


    Vellim brought a shaking hand to his mouth. He could not return to his former self. He was ready for the gates of hell to swallow him whole, and he would thank her all the way down. He closed his eyes and sucked. My god, the taste of Lady Ori. It flowed over his tongue and ignited his whole body.


    Lady Ori took his hand. Would she permit him another taste? But no, she placed his hand in her mouth and drank the rest of herself off his fingers. Vellim was shocked with need. He pulled her into him and kissed her with all his heart.


    Oh, she consecrated him with her body. ¡°Ori,¡± he moaned into the space between her lips, ¡°Ori, yes, please.¡±


    Lady Ori bit the base of his neck and he growled in pleasure. Her teeth rolled over his neck. ¡°Good boy, Vellim.¡±


    Before he knew it, he was inside of her. She made love to him; he felt it all. Her feelings and her desire. All corners of his body connected to hers. She looked at him with her sharp eyes which rolled back when she felt him. He tried to bite back his moans but could not remember where he was.


    He wanted her. She was touching herself with her eyes closed, and he needed her. Her breath was catching in her throat, and he¡¯d die for her. She came like a crashing wave over him and he prayed for this moment to last forever.


    He watched her face alight with ecstasy as she used him, and she came again, and again. He refused to come. He needed to see and know this side of his Ori. He bucked his hips and watched. He felt her body respond to him.


    He cursed himself. ¡°Ori,¡± he breathed, ¡°I must¡­¡± What was the word for such a thing?


    His Ori hugged him around his neck. ¡°Come for me, Vellim.¡±


    The sound of her order seized him, but it was her lower body that gripped him. She released him from the luscious torment of her moving body. Never in his life had he ever felt such things. Nothing could compare. He felt the crushing weight of his stress vanish into the air.

 Chapter 13 . Worthy

    Vellim lay in his bed that night deep in thought. He felt giddy, embarrassed, and frightened. Giddy and embarrassed were for obvious reasons. He remembered his Sweet Ori holding him inside of her for a long time after. She covered his cheeks and neck with soft kisses. She praised him. She laughed and smiled.


    They had helped each other look presentable, giggling like children. Then they¡¯d called a servant and moved to have a private lunch. It was a dream, an absolute dream.


    Even alone in his bed, he blushed. The woman he once had simple platonic affection for was now the woman he must marry at all costs.


    He put an arm over his eyes and groaned. He could no longer imagine a life without the song of her laugh or the feel of her grace. He was done for; he was over, and more than that, he was happy.


    Still, he was fearful.


    Passion was new to him, and love even more so. But something nagged at the back of his mind. It warned him that he had forgotten something important.


    My god, Lady Ori had been without him during an audience with the King and his Court! He had traveled two near-sleepless days just to beg her forgiveness.


    Yesterday, Vellim had watched Lady Ori¡¯s bastard half-brother die. Jonathon¡¯s legs had kicked and his hands had grasped at his neck. The shade of his skin had changed. He died full of horror and fright.


    Vellim could not understand it. Lady Ori had side-stepped her suffering so easily. Why wouldn¡¯t she talk to him?


    He tried to think about being in her position, but it was too sickening. She had endured things and done things he would never understand.


    He covered his face with his big hands. He should learn to accept that part of her. After all, what human being could act normal after such events? Her odd behavior with him must be a testament that she was relying on him.


    If she needed his body to feel safe; he¡¯d gladly offer himself on a golden plate again and again. He¡¯d tasted heaven and hell all at once, and it was his Lady Ori on his fingers.


    Yet in the back of his mind, he worried about her words: ¡®I took care of it¡¯.


    ¨D


    Baby Ori visited Thomas again. Today the Unconscious Forest was a bright and happy place.


    Baby Ori kept a careful distance from the iron gate. ¡°Did I find all the Oris?¡±


    Thomas shrugged, ¡°There¡¯s no real way to know. You could have, or there could be tons of Oris left somewhere else.¡±


    Ori sighed. ¡°Thomas, are we strange? Or is every person like we are? I¡¯ve never heard anyone else,¡± she gestured, ¡°have many thems.¡±


    Thomas pondered this. ¡°I wouldn¡¯t know.¡± He said finally. ¡°How would I know how other people are? I¡¯ve never met anyone else but people on the inside.¡±


    Ori nodded, ¡°Oh, I see. You¡¯re quite lucky for that.¡±


    Thomas agreed. ¡°From what I¡¯ve seen here in the unconscious, I wouldn¡¯t trust anyone on the outside.¡±


    ¡°But Thomas, you guard the gate.¡±


    ¡°So what?¡± He laughed.


    Ori squinted at him. ¡°If you guard the gate, that means that you¡¯re keeping someone out. Do you not trust people on the inside either?¡±


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    ¡°Oh, well¡­¡± Thomas said, thinking. ¡°It¡¯s not about trust, Baby Ori, it¡¯s about precaution.¡±


    ¡°Why?¡±


    Thomas scoffed, exasperated. ¡°The Uppers can¡¯t have you in here knowing everything! Being a person is very complicated! We all have our jobs, that¡¯s why we¡¯re all still alive.¡±


    Ori stuck out her lips. ¡°So you¡¯re guarding the gate so I won¡¯t know things?¡±


    ¡°You don¡¯t want these memories, Baby Ori.¡± Said Thomas, his eyebrows knotted. ¡°There¡¯s a reason we made the gate.¡±


    ¨D-


    Juju and Fion, their ears pressed to the door, covered their mouths. Fion in particular was prone to screaming, so Juju grabbed her by her skirt and dragged her sister away.


    The lustful sounds coming out of the sitting room were unmistakable. The servants stood along the wall pretending not to hear.


    When they reached the quiet of Juju¡¯s bedroom, Fion released her tongue and began to cackle. ¡°She said their relationship was childlike!¡± She screamed in excitement. ¡°What a liar!¡±


    Juju covered her blushing face with her hands. The low sound of male moaning still reverberating in her mind. ¡°This is great.¡±


    Fion cackled even louder, amused by her sister¡¯s sudden interest. ¡°What?!¡±


    Juju looked serious. ¡°Think about it!¡±


    Fion¡¯s face fell. ¡°Oh, you¡¯re being crafty again. I hate when you get like this.¡±


    Juju huffed. Her sister was crafty too, she just didn¡¯t utilize it.


    ¨D-


    Lady Ori snickered. She had a maid undress her but opted to wash herself. Vellim had been delicious. If she ate him every day she still wouldn¡¯t feel satisfied. She had wanted to take a bite out of him and suck the marrow from his bones. How can a man be so cute?


    Baby Ori¡¯s puppy love glasses had made his touch and smell that much better. He was still a virgin, of course. His kisses were sloppy¨Dbut he lasted a fair amount.


    Vellim de Broglie. She bit her lip and glanced in the mirror as she washed herself. She laughed. Feeling like this wasn¡¯t so bad.


    She called in a maid to dress her and then asked for contraceptives.


    The maid hesitated, then nodded and left the room.


    Lady Ori watched her go.


    Lady Juju all but fell into Lady Ori¡¯s room. ¡°I knew it!¡± she shouted. ¡°Excuse my rudeness!¡±


    Lady Ori narrowed her eyes.


    Lady Juju rushed to sit next to her. She seemed out of breath. ¡°I knew you were smart so it wouldn¡¯t take you long¨Dphew.¡±


    Lady Ori looked at her cousin, ¡°What are you doing, Lady Juju?¡± This was uncharacteristic of her prim elder cousin.


    ¡°Don¡¯t take that contraceptive!¡± whispered Lady Juju. ¡°Think about your options. This could be your best bargaining chip.¡±


    Lady Ori raised her eyebrows and smirked. Her cousins kept surprising her. ¡°Oh?¡± she said.


    The maid brought tea and contraceptives, and Juju lightly pushed it away. ¡°Hear me out, Lady Ori.¡± Her lips made a hard line. ¡°You¡¯ll be marrying Lord Vellim de Broglie either way, right? So let yourself fall pregnant.¡± Her pretty green eyes bored into her cousin¡¯s.


    Lady Ori made a face. No, thank you.


    Lady Juju shook her head, ¡°Listen. Lord Vellim is the second son. He still has a chance at becoming heir if he has a child before his brother!¡±


    Lady Ori slid her glare over to the contraceptive on the table. ¡°His brother doesn¡¯t have a child yet?¡±


    Lady Juju relaxed, now confident that her cousin understood. ¡°No, he and his wife have still not conceived; they just married. That whole family is quite shy.¡± She tapped the table, ¡°A man can only inherit the title if he has an heir.¡±


    Lady Juju drank the tea the maid had served her. ¡°You understand, right? The Rohan family name will be absorbed into the Candel name. Ah¨D¡° Lady Juju looked embarrassed. ¡°I¡¯m sorry for overstepping, but can I be frank?¡±


    Lady Juju was quickly becoming one of Lady Ori¡¯s favorite people. ¡°Go ahead and speak, Lady Juju. We¡¯re family.¡±


    Lady Juju nodded, relieved. ¡°You¡¯re the last direct line. You deserve more than a second son, no matter how much you like him.¡± She sighed, ¡°I¡¯m sorry to shock you with something so base, but I¡¯ve never done one thing for you, even though I¡¯m the eldest.¡± She looked at Lady Ori, ashamed. ¡°I should have looked out for you in private and in high society.¡± She took Lady Ori¡¯s hand. ¡°Consider my advice, or ignore it. But know what you¡¯re worth.¡±


    Lady Ori was speechless. She stared at her cousin, mouth agape, brain chugging.


    She leaned over and hugged Lady Juju, confused by the ferocity of her feelings.


    Lady Juju hugged her back. ¡°Oh don¡¯t cry!! It¡¯ll make me cry!¡±


    It was too late, they were both tearful.


    Lady Ori was so touched that she was unsure of how to react. Instead of a knife in her back, her cousin was scheming for her. How could such a thing happen? Was it possible that her quick-witted cousins were thinking about her wellbeing? The thought made her blubber. No one had ever cared about her to this extent. No one.


    When did she turn into a crybaby like Baby Ori? She was changing at an impossible rate. Was it okay to lose her edge like this?


    No.


    She knew one thing: she hadn¡¯t worked so hard to survive to be a little pregnant wife. She wasn¡¯t yet willing to let the blade of her heart dull.

 Chapter 14 . Why?

    How long had it been? Baby Ori lost count. The days and nights in the unconscious went by at their own time scale. Baby Ori had decided to widen her search for more Oris.


    It was quite scary, but still less scary than living as a doll in the Rohan estate. This irrefutable fact helped Baby Ori overcome her nervousness. She felt waves of nausea whenever she came upon the younger and younger Oris. She was always careful not to touch them¨Dlest she unwitting experience their pain.


    Baby Ori took a moment to think. She had scuttled together a sort of children¡¯s sailing raft and was now sailing down a lush, fern-covered creek. Her bum was wet, but she was proud of herself.


    A wave of terror swept over her. She took the large stick she used for this purpose and slammed it into the bottom of the creek. The raft spun a bit in protest, but soon hit the bank and stopped.


    She strained to listen over the loud burbling of the creek. When she heard it, she shuddered. There, deep in the ferns and tall oak trees, was the cry of a baby. Baby Ori took a deep breath, tied her raft to a root, and stepped onto the red clay.


    The cry of the baby grew louder and louder as Baby Ori went to them. The oak trees trembled in the wind caused by the cry. Soon the landscape morphed into birch trees; the eyes on their bark watching Baby Ori¡¯s every step.


    ¡°Stop scaring me!¡± She yelled, ¡°This is my job!!¡±


    The trees responded by closing their eyes. They bent and unveiled the squalling infant.


    Baby Ori took a deep breath.


    The baby had light blue hair. Her little body twitched in the way that babies do, and her chubby fists waved in the air. She wore a long white dress embroidered with flowers.


    Baby Ori¡¯s hair blew back, caught in a sudden gust. She squinted but continued to move forward. ¡°Ori,¡± she said, ¡°It¡¯s me, Baby Ori.¡±


    The baby stopped crying in an instant. She looked into Baby Ori¡¯s face, confused.


    ¡°Are you in pain?¡± Asked Baby Ori.


    ¡°Yes,¡± the newborn answered back, unnaturally. ¡°I¡¯m hungry and no one is coming.¡±


    Baby Ori¡¯s eyes filled with tears and she wished to hold the baby. She knew she could not. ¡°I made us a house. There are endless bottles of warm milk there, and cradles where you can sleep.¡± She pushed a fern side, sniffling. ¡°Doesn¡¯t that sound nice? I¡¯ll show you.¡±


    The baby was quiet.


    Baby Ori peered at her, ¡°You don¡¯t believe me?¡±


    The baby turned her little blue eyes towards Baby Ori. ¡°I want to die.¡±


    Baby Ori burst into sobs. She knew the baby meant it. ¡°How can you say that?¡± She fell to her knees. ¡°How can you say you want to die?¡±


    The infant closed its eyes, ¡°Why won¡¯t I die? I cry and no one comes. The skin on my bottom hurts. I¡¯m so hungry. Why won¡¯t I die?¡±


    Baby Ori put out her hands, the hands of a five-year-old child. She slipped one little hand under the infant¡¯s head, and then another under her little bottom. She cradled the child like a mother and cried and cried.


    The newborn turned her head and felt Ori¡¯s hard, gangly little body against her face. Still, she was so warm.


    Baby Ori could not help but feel and experience the terror of the baby. She yearned to feel the warm breast of their mother.


    Baby Ori screamed to the birch trees, ¡°Why did she breastfeed me if she wanted me to die?¡± She took a gasping, choking breath, ¡°Why did she keep me alive if she never loved me?¡±


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    The birch trees kept their eyes closed. They didn¡¯t know either. No one on the inside knew.


    ¨D-


    Lady Ori woke up from a nightmare. She had been at a popular theme park, and no matter what she did, she couldn¡¯t find her baby on any of the rides.


    Lady Ori put her hand on her lower stomach. She had taken the contraceptive. There was no baby. She sighed in relief.


    A week ago, Lady Juju had shared a secret with her. She had wiped away Lady Ori¡¯s tears and told her that Contessa de Rohan had decided on the next heir of the Rohan estate.


    ¡°Both of the Rohan brothers tried to court her. She¡¯d already had Sir¨DI mean that bastard¨Dwith someone.¡± Lady Juju told her. ¡°They took it as proof that she could give birth to boys.¡±


    Lady Ori had drunk the contraceptive with her tea and listened, her heart beating in her ears.


    Lady Juju continued, frowning but accepting her decision. ¡°In the end, the late Contessa chose the younger brother, and had you.¡±


    Lady Ori¡¯s eyes narrowed. ¡°And I was a girl.¡±


    Lady Juju nodded. ¡°Mother says that¡¯s when she and the Contessa ended their sisterhood.¡± She placed her teacup in its saucer. ¡°Mother found it suspicious; the elder brother died of sickness, and then your father, too.¡±


    Lady Ori spat a humorless laugh. ¡°She suspects my mother murdered both men?¡± She smiled in anger, ¡°That sounds like her.¡±


    Lady Juju looked away from her cousin¡¯s piercing eyes. ¡°I think both men mistreated her.¡± Lady Juju fiddled with the front of her dress. ¡°It doesn¡¯t change anything.¡± She said finally, ¡°But I thought you should know.¡±


    Lady Ori looked into her tea cup. The remaining tea leaves had sorted themselves into a wheel. It pissed her off.


    Lady Juju took her fan into her hand. ¡°Your situation is different because you already like Lord Vellim. Plus his brother is already married. I hope you don¡¯t think I tried to put you in the same position.¡±


    ¡°No,¡± Lady Ori said, shaking her head. ¡°It was a good idea. You can always come to me when you have plans like this. I like this side of you, too.¡±


    The late Contessa had played with fire and gotten burned. What did her mother expect? That she had a magical womb that only gave birth to boys? What a dumbass. In her entire life, she¡¯d never made one intelligent decision. Delusional bitch.


    Lady Juju felt touched. ¡°We¡¯re pretty similar, Lady Ori.¡± she giggled.


    Lady Ori smiled. She doubted it.


    ¨D-


    Vellim de Broglie looked into his mirror, checking his hair again. He had visited his Ori many times since they¡¯d made love two weeks ago. Still, the thought of visiting her made his heart flutter in his chest.


    He was learning more and more about her¨Da new Ori that seemed to bloom outside of the Rohan estate. He learned her laugh could sound like a crack of lightning; she liked meals with lots of vinegar. He would catch her swishing her skirts, as if she was moving to music he could not hear. He would dance with her and she would laugh.


    She would take her shoes off whenever possible and plunk them into the grass. When a lizard jumped into a bush, she¡¯d watch it, look away, and smile at him as if they¡¯d seen a shooting star.


    She loved to kiss him, and he loved to be kissed.


    Now when he was alone in the privacy of his rooms, he¡¯d lick his fingers, and imagine it was her taste coating his tongue. He wondered when she¡¯d beg into his ear again.


    Her bruises were healing, and she promised that when they did, she¡¯d be his partner at all upcoming dances. Soon he¡¯d be able to show off his fianc¨¦e to high society and beyond.


    It was still true that he preferred the quiet of home. It was only that recently he¡¯d been assuaged by the idea that everyone should know that Ori loved him. He worried his fearless, free-spirited Ori would leave him for a man of better standing.


    The very idea had made its way into his nightmares. He¡¯d wake up with tears in his eyes, the image of his Ori laughing with another man still fresh in his mind.


    He was going insane; he knew it. At least, it seems, he wasn¡¯t the only one. As a scholar, he took a new interest in poetry. He wrote it too but burned it afterward, afraid someone might read it.


    He thought of Ori before bed, dreamed of her, and then woke up with the desire to hold her in the morning. By lunch he was at the Foix estate, looking at her. His novels lay forgotten somewhere.


    He watched his elder brother treat his new wife, Lady Layla, with gentle hands. He could not help but feel bad for the both of them. Lady Layla would look at her husband with hopeful eyes. Meanwhile his brother was completely oblivious. They slept in separate rooms and kept their distance from one another. To his eyes, they looked like strangers.


    Vellim shook his head. To think that he had almost made the same mistake. What if he had rejected his Ori¡¯s needs back then? He¡¯d never know how precious love was to a man¡¯s whole being. He wished he had felt this a year ago, so he could have had more time being ruined by his lovely Ori.


    He wondered if all the men in his family were this hopeless. He clicked his tongue. At this rate, his Ori would be pregnant before Lady Layla was.


    The thought grabbed him by the shoulders and shook him. He saw his dumbfounded reaction reflected in the mirror, hand still in his hair. A foreign feeling welled up in his chest.


    A man of higher standing could never take her from him if he was the man of higher standing.

 Chapter 15 . Bona Dea

    Baby Ori lay on her ramshackle raft in the creek, feeling the cold water between the sticks splash her back. The sun bore into her closed eyes, and so a cloud materialized to cover it. She was reminded again that she was in the ¡®inside¡¯ world.


    Infant Ori was gone, having already claimed a room in the cottage Baby Ori made. Such was the kind of thing that happened on the inside.


    The newborn Ori¡¯s were more formidable than Baby Ori had thought. They frightened her. She would have to be more careful around them in the future.


    No wonder the birch trees had tried to warn her away.


    To think a baby could hold such feelings: to want to die. It was an insidious clue to the kind of life the Oris had lived and the kind of life they expected to keep living.


    Baby Ori had cried for a long while, letting the tears pool passed her ears, thinking about her mother. The type of mother who could ignore the cries of a starving baby. The kind of mother who had made Baby Ori become a bloody doll.


    Baby Ori had a thought: Maybe the creek wasn¡¯t freshwater at all, but made from all the tears of all the Oris.


    The soft bump of her raft alerted her to the creek¡¯s end. She sat up, wiping her runny eyes and nose. She must have floated into a mountain pass. In front of her was a large moss-covered rock, and to her right, a steep uphill incline.


    Baby Ori looked up into the thin, spindly trees and sighed. She looked down at her feet, now wearing light blue bejeweled boots. On her hip, a sword encased in dark blue leather. Her dress and bloomers ballooned into a blouse and pants. Today she would be a knight on an exploration to save herselves. A seasoned professional! She gripped the creek bank with dark blue leather gloves and hauled her little body onto the clay.


    She knit her eyebrows into a tough line and pushed herself up using the thin young trees. It was slippery work, the incline was lined with rotting fallen leaves. Baby Ori could not help herself, every time she slipped, she stopped to stare at the worms and beetles underneath. Everything in the inside world was perfect and amazing.


    She was halfway up when she felt a chill slide down her back. The enormity of this presence almost sent her careening back down the mountain. She caught her breath in her throat. Her eyes dilated and she began to sweat. Worse yet, she felt like she was smiling. Why would she be smiling? She was frightened.


    Baby Ori turned her head to the right.


    There beside her was another little girl. She had dark blue hair and bright blue eyes. Her mouth was turned up into an unnatural closed-mouth smile, and she radiated danger.


    Baby Ori grasped a tree and took a step backward. Her body shook. The girl¡¯s eyes seemed to bore into her own. Her insidious smile seemed to want to take over her body.


    Baby Ori felt the smile right behind her own mouth. She could no longer feel her own expression. She screamed and closed her eyes. ¡°I¡¯m not smiling!!¡±


    When she opened her eyes again, the other girl still stood there, still smiling. Baby Ori¡¯s breath grew heavy. ¡°What are you? You¡¯re not an Ori.¡±


    The girl continued to smile, but her voice penetrated Baby Ori¡¯s mind. ¡°Do you remember my name?¡±


    Baby Ori shook her head, the feeling of the girl¡¯s tight-lipped smile behind her own frown was horrible. ¡°No!!¡±


    The girl did not react. She stood on the mountain as if she were rooted in place.


    Baby Ori sensed that she would follow her to the ends of the inner world. ¡°Whoever you are, I¡¯m here to find Ori¡¯s. I find Ori¡¯s and I give them rooms. Nobody scary is allowed near the Ori¡¯s!¡±


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    The girl chuckled inside Baby Ori¡¯s head, and Baby Ori¡¯s eyes filled with worried tears.


    Baby Ori blinked, and the girl was gone. With trembling hands, Baby Ori removed her gloves and felt her own face. She felt her downturned cheeks and trembling lips. She practiced smiling just to see what it felt like, then frowned deeply to see if she still could. Her jaw hurt as if her mother was squeezing it. Confused tears streamed down her eyes. The haunting smile was still there, just behind her own expression.


    Who was that girl? She wasn¡¯t a Julie, nor an Ori, or a Thomas. Baby Ori¡¯s little heartbeat felt as if it would hop away. She felt like she knew the girl¡¯s name, but a pressing feeling of erasure was keeping her from it. The erasure was not like a wall keeping her out, but like a watery smudge over her own thoughts. It was so frustrating; she gnashed her teeth.


    Whatever that girl¡¯s real name was, she was powerful¨Dthe memories she held were the most disgusting Baby Ori had ever felt. There was something raw and ugly about that girl¡¯s existence.


    Nausea washed over Baby Ori¡¯s body again and again. She held onto the thin trees for dear life. ¡°Thomas?¡± She whispered, ¡°Are you there?¡±


    ¨D-


    Lady Ori felt strange. She felt like she was smiling, even though she wore the same glare she always had. She pulled at her cheeks and wiggled them to and fro. Still, the ghostly feeling of a smile remained. It was discomforting.


    She sat at her vanity and studied her face. There was no smile; not even a hint. Lady Ori narrowed her eyes. She reapplied bright red lipstick and called for an escort.


    The carriage took her to Main Street; a busy place where nobles shopped and lower classes worked.


    A Knight held her hand as she exited the carriage. Once the stiletto of her heel had touched the ground she was off.


    The Knight hurried behind her, then held the door open as she stalked inside a nearby shop.


    No sooner had the door jingled, than an attendant met her at the door.


    When the Knight entered he blushed, but said nothing.


    Lady Ori eyed the attendant, then scanned the shop. Lace lingerie of all colors hung from the wall on hooks. The designs were all sheer and pretty. Garters and stockings lined the shelves in neat stacks.


    She pointed to the far left, ¡°From here,¡± she gestured to the far right, ¡°to here. I¡¯m buying all of it. All sizes. Did you receive your pay?¡±


    The attendant nodded, having received Lady Ori¡¯s letter just before.


    Lady Ori smiled, ¡°Good. Send it to the address I gave you.¡± She gestured to the Knight to follow her out as the attendant thanked her, eyes wide.


    Lady Ori strode back to the carriage. ¡°You don¡¯t say much, Sir Knight. I like that about you.¡±


    The Knight made an effort to keep his face straight. ¡°I see, thank you, My Lady.¡±


    Lady Ori waited as he quickly opened the door to her carriage and stretched his arm out to help her inside. She placed her delicate hand in his, her nails as red as the devil and just as sharp, too. ¡°And,¡± she whispered, ¡°I know that you will continue to say nothing.¡±


    The Knight nodded.


    ¡°Good,¡± smiled Lady Ori, ¡°A lady must have her secrets.¡±


    The door to the carriage shut again, and soon bumped and jostled to its next location.


    This time a portly man met her at the door of a large, baroque-style building. It was bright white, and ornately carved with the busts of Gods and Goddess.


    ¡°Lady Ori de Rohan!¡± He said to her, bowing deeply. ¡°How lovely to finally meet you. I trust you have been well?¡±


    Lady Ori studied the doors. They were carved with the image of Jupiter; the god of luck¨Dand also fortune. She nodded approvingly. ¡°Show me the rooms.¡±


    ¡°Yes, of course!¡± the man said.


    The art inside was beautiful, though not to her liking. The Goddess Juno was first and foremost among the murals on the wall. She represented marriage and childbirth.


    The man was saying, ¡°Of course, the main purpose of this building before was for postpartum recovery, which is why you find Bona Dea and Juno.¡±


    Lady Ori paused. Who was Bona Dea, again? She turned to the man, questioning.


    ¡°Bona Dea, as you know,¡± he said quickly, ¡°The Goddess who protects, heals, and guides all women.¡±


    Lady Ori looked up at Bona Dea with newfound interest. There was a Goddess like that, huh?


    Not that any Goddess had ever tried to help her before.


    Lady Ori was satisfied.


    Luke de Candel, her young cousin who took the title of Count Rohan, had taken care to empty Baby Ori¡¯s room. He had sent Lady Ori the contents, and she¡¯d received them yesterday.


    Lady Ori had sold everything immediately. Nothing was safe: she sold the jewelry, the ugly old dresses, the shoes, and the stockings¨Deven Baby Ori¡¯s books and trinkets.


    All Lady Ori would have left after today would be the clothes on her back, five pairs of heels she¡¯d special ordered, and a small lump sum.


    The man watched her face, his eyes shining with greed. ¡°It¡¯s in a marvelous location. Very close to the opera¨Dwithin walking distance. What were you thinking of preparing? A cafe would do beautifully, or a women¡¯s boutique¨D¡°


    Lady Ori sliced her eyes over his face.


    The man fell silent.


    Lady Ori cocked her head to the side, ¡°I¡¯ll sign. Bring the documents and a pen.¡±

 Chapter 16 . I Knew Her

    Thomas¡¯ image and voice floated into Baby Ori¡¯s brain. ¡°What¡¯s wrong, Baby Ori?¡±


    It was getting easier to communicate on the inside, now that Baby Ori was learning the names.


    Baby Ori shuddered and rested her little body against the trees. ¡°I saw a girl who only smiles.¡± The feelings of that moment flowed over her again and she winced. The sick smile hovered behind her mouth. ¡°What was her name? I used to know it.¡±


    Thomas blanched. ¡°Oh, you met her. Sorry¡­her name¡¯s beyond the gate. You aren¡¯t able to know it.¡±


    Baby Ori clicked her tongue in frustration. ¡°I feel like if I knew her name she wouldn¡¯t be as scary!¡±


    Thomas hesitated. ¡°No, she¡¯s¡­¡± he paused again. ¡°Just keep doing your job, Baby Ori. She can¡¯t hurt you.¡±


    Baby Ori shifted her body uncomfortably. She felt as if the girl¡¯s smile was in her muscles, making them too tight to use. She began climbing the mountain again, annoyed. ¡°If she can¡¯t hurt me, then why do I feel this way?¡±


    Thomas sighed. ¡°You should pity her, Baby Ori. I know you can¡¯t because that¡¯s not your job¡­¡±


    Baby Ori huffed, cutting him off. ¡°I¡¯m tired of hearing about jobs. You love jobs, Thomas.¡±


    Thomas shrugged, pursing his lips. ¡°I¡¯ll leave you to your mountain then, Baby Ori.¡±


    ¡°Oh¡­thank you for your help, Thomas. Sorry. I don¡¯t know what¡¯s come over me.¡± She slipped on the rotting leaves but rebalanced herself and grunted. ¡°Talking to you makes me feel less afraid.¡±


    Thomas smiled sadly, then chuckled, ¡°It¡¯s okay, Baby Ori. We¡¯re all in this together.¡±


    From a far corner of a separate mountain, the girl who smiles watched Baby Ori struggle. The fox-eyed grin she wore belied any feeling she may have had beneath it.


    ¨D-


    Count de Foix was confused. ¡°What do you mean, Ori? You want to move to Main Street?¡±


    Lady Ori nodded, sipping her tea. ¡°I¡¯m aware that you are now considered my guardian, Uncle Foix. Therefore, I wanted to share my plans with you.¡±


    Foix¡¯s ears went red and he looked at Contessa de Foix.


    Contessa de Foix sighed. She knew her husband too well. ¡°Ori,¡± said the Contessa carefully. ¡°Have we made you feel uncomfortable? Even if you were to tell us that you would never marry and that you wanted to stay with us forever, we would still accept you.¡±


    Lady Ori set her teacup down and stared at it. ¡°I believe you, Aunt Foix. I appreciate the sentiment, and I am deeply grateful to you both.¡± She flicked her eyes up and met her Aunt¡¯s gaze. ¡°However, I am leaving. This is not goodbye. Living in your home has been¡­¡±


    Lady Ori trailed off, feeling the strings of emotion slip around her throat. At first, it had been hard to live among people who loved and trusted so easily. ¡°Living in the Foix estate has been filled with affection. I want to stay in touch.¡±


    Contessa de Foix softened, and she reached for her husband¡¯s hand.


    Count de Foix was already sniffling. ¡°That¡¯s what we want too! Of course!¡±


    Contessa de Foix nodded. ¡°Then, you¡¯ve already found a flat? We shall purchase it for you and send you an allowance.¡±


    Foix nodded enthusiastically. ¡°We shall take care of your dowry as well, so you may marry your sweetheart when you like.¡±


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    Lady Ori shook her head, feeling awkward. She could not be more different than these hopelessly wholesome people. ¡°Did mother¡­not prepare a dowry for me?¡±


    Count de Foix stiffened. He glanced at his wife. ¡°She¡­¡±


    Contessa de Foix interrupted him. ¡°She did not.¡± Rage flittered across her face. ¡°There was no dowry allocated to you. My awful sister...¡± She narrowed her eyes, ¡°perhaps she never intended to give you to Broglie.¡±


    Lady Ori leaned back and sighed. ¡°Yes, I think she intended to kill me before that.¡±


    Foix made a strangled noise. ¡°Oh, Ori¡­¡±


    Next to him, Contessa de Foix was gripping his hand, tears threatening to spill over.


    Lady Ori sighed heavily. She had already killed her mother. There was no reason for her Aunt and Uncle to continue crying over it. Revenge was had; it was over. Time to move on.


    Still, she had hoped to use her dowry to repaint the interior of the building on Main Street.


    Foix cleared his throat. ¡°We¡­will never leave you all alone again, Ori.¡±


    ¡°Ah¡­¡± said Lady Ori, feeling the weight of his words stab at a lonely place in her heart. ¡°Even if you do, I would understand.¡± She swallowed, feeling guilty.


    The Count and Contessa continued to heap promises of devotion onto her. Lady Ori did not believe them but took pains to hide it.


    Once her Aunt and Uncle found out what she was planning on Main Street, they might never even look at her again, let alone love her.


    Lady Ori left the sitting room feeling nauseous. Being cared for by other people was nice, but repellant. What was the point? They would only bury her under their values. If you gave people an inch into your heart, they¡¯d find a way to stab it.


    Lady Ori refused to dwell on her nervous guilt.


    Affection was fleeting, love even more so. There was only one thing that appealed to Lady Ori: complete control over the direction of her own life. She had been ready to throw the Foix family away the minute she had signed on the building. Why be confused now?


    Happiness was control, control was power, and power was ownership. She must own herself at all costs.


    ¨D-


    Vellim sat across from his father, dumbfounded. ¡°What are you saying, father?¡±


    Count de Broglie sighed and puffed deeply on his pipe. He blew it out to the side, careful to avoid his second son¡¯s face. ¡°Vellim, this is hard for me to say as well.¡± He sighed again. ¡°I know you¡¯re infatuated with the Rohan girl. This is my fault for encouraging you to marry her.¡±


    Broglie looked up into his son¡¯s eyes and saw an expression there that he¡¯d never seen before.


    Vellim was glowering at his father. ¡°I do not wish to hear anything else about your future daughter-in-law, father. Let¡¯s end this talk right here.¡±


    Broglie blinked, blowing smoke. The corner of his mouth twitched upward in appreciation. Both of his sons were so shy and easy-going that he often worried about them. ¡°Vellim, do you think I don¡¯t know what you¡¯re doing at the Foix estate?¡±


    Vellim turned a deep, tomato red. His mouth went dry.


    Broglie waved away his son¡¯s shame, gesturing with his hand, ¡°I¡¯m not admonishing you. One of my boys needs an heir; I don¡¯t care how it happens. But even still, think of your reputation.¡±


    ¡°Father,¡± Vellim growled, ears still red. He could not look his father in the eyes. ¡°She is my fianc¨¦e. As you said, we are doing nothing wrong.¡±


    Broglie set his pipe down. ¡°I have talked with your mother, and we no longer approve of Lady Ori. Did you know? The late Contessa de Rohan never even prepared a dowry. She was only using our name as a connection.¡±


    ¡°Hah.¡± Spat Vellim, feeling his blood boil and his heart sink.


    Broglie leaned forward and placed his hand on his son¡¯s broad shoulder. ¡°Vellim,¡± he lowered his voice, ¡°Even if the King declared her blameless, Lady Ori admitted her sin to the entire Court. The social season is nearing. You will be tarnished if you continue this way.¡± Broglie leaned back, away from his son¡¯s glare. ¡°Don¡¯t look at me like that Vellim; like you hate me.¡±


    Vellim looked down at his feet. ¡°Hate? That small feeling?¡± he choked, ¡°No, more than hate, I feel betrayed.¡± He shook his head in disbelief. ¡°I didn¡¯t realize that my father was such a small man.¡±


    ¡°Vellim!¡± Broglie shouted, dismayed. ¡°How dare you say such a thing!¡±


    Vellim clenched his fists, ¡°I love Lady Ori. Ours will be a marriage of love, and your grandchildren will be heirs born of that love.¡±


    Broglie picked up his pipe again, clenching his jaw. ¡°Should I feel happy that my second son is finally talking back to me?¡± He puffed his pipe incredulously. ¡°A woman who can slash her own mother¡¯s throat¨Dthat¡¯s the love of your life?¡±


    Vellim shot out of his chair before he could think. He stood over his father, gripped by a self-righteous fury.


    Broglie looked up into his son¡¯s face, unimpressed. ¡°You¡¯re too old for tantrums, Vellim. You are blinded by lovesick passion¨Dlike a schoolboy.¡±


    Vellim had never heard such harsh words from his father before. He knew him as a man who doted on his children, took great care of his lands, and respected his wife. Who was this awful man in front of him? Surly not his father?


    Vellim turned to leave, ¡°I think I would rather be a lovesick schoolboy than an unsympathetic old man.¡±


    Broglie scoffed and watched his son stomp away. He caught a maid¡¯s eye, ¡°Call my attendant, I need a letter written to Foix.¡±

 Chapter 17. Trashcan Altar

    ¡°Baby Ori!¡± said the voice of a child. ¡°Baby Ori! Get up, that girl is outside again!¡±


    Baby Ori sat up straight in her bed. She looked out the window and shivered.


    The girl-who-smiles was outside their home, standing in the dark, looking up at Baby Ori¡¯s window and smiling.


    Baby Ori gripped her sheets in fear.


    When she had met the-girl-who-smiles on the mountain, it had been the last day of her adventures. There had been no more abandoned Ori¡¯s, and when she had closed her eyes and opened them again, she was home with the other Ori¡¯s.


    Chills ran up and down Baby Ori¡¯s spine. This speck of the unconscious was meant to be their paradise. Why was that girl still coming here?


    ¡°Can you tell her to leave?¡± Whispered the other Ori, tears in her little eyes.


    Baby Ori gulped. ¡°I don¡¯t know, I¡¯m scared.¡±


    ¡°Okay.¡± Said the other Ori, patting Baby Ori¡¯s hand.


    No one could sleep that night.


    The girl-who-smiles wouldn¡¯t leave.


    ¡ª-


    It was dark; a night with no moon. Lady Ori lay on the cold floor of her building, staring at the enormous panting of Bona Dea. The goddess seemed to flicker and dance in the candlelight, Juno by her side.


    It was a strange sight, but no one was around to see. Boxes of lingerie lay here and there.


    ¡°I read about you,¡± Lady Ori said to the painting. She rested her hands on the stay over her corset and closed her eyes. ¡°I think you and I are similar.¡±


    Lady Ori smirked at the painting then, an angry sarcasm cracking into her voice. ¡°Did you know, Bona Dea? I¡¯ve been murdered twice.¡±


    Lady Ori laughed. ¡°I remember both times, even though I was two different people from two different worlds.¡±


    ¡°So if anyone understands what you went through, it¡¯s me.¡± Lady Ori¡¯s lips trembled. ¡°Bona Dea, did you get revenge on that man that beat you to death? Or did you forgive him after you became a goddess?¡±


    She felt like she might throw up. ¡°I hope you never forgive him. I hope you drink sacrificial ¡®milk¡¯ every day and watch him writhe in hell.¡±


    Lady Ori exhaled. ¡°Everyone claims you protect women. I heard you like to be worshiped through blood sacrifice. I guess that¡¯s why you¡¯ve always ignored me.¡±


    Lady Ori closed her eyes again. Her chest felt as if it was on fire. ¡°I have something to say.¡±


    With slow, bumbling movements, Lady Ori stood up. She poured wine into a crystal chalice. ¡°Have some ¡®milk¡¯.¡± she chuckled.


    Next to the chalice of wine was a silver plate, where a tiny piglet lay dead in a pool of its own blood.


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    Lady Ori stepped away from the offering, and took a deep swig from the bottle of wine. She took a breath, then drained it. She stood over the makeshift altar, blurry eyed.


    ¡°I know you hate men, Bona Dea, but for me, I hate everyone.¡± Tears began to slip down her cheeks. ¡°I don¡¯t rely on anyone, or trust anyone. I didn¡¯t even want to marry him, Bona Dea. I swear I didn¡¯t.¡±


    Drained, Lady Ori lay down on the cold marble flooring again. ¡°I don¡¯t have a mother to tell this to, because I killed her.¡± The cackling of her laughter filled the room. ¡°Isn¡¯t that fucked up? I don¡¯t even feel bad about it, I just feel sorry for myself!¡±


    She sighed, feeling the room warp and spin now that she was truly drunk. Three empty bottles of wine lay to the side.


    ¡°That offering I gave you, I hope you enjoy it. It¡¯s a bribe.¡± She slurred to Bona Dea, ¡°Protect my business, and the women I hire. Fuck up anyone who tries to fuck us up. Have my¡­fucking back.¡±


    Lady Ori¡¯s mouth went dry, ¡°¡ªand if you don¡¯t mind, let me talk to you like this. Let me beg you for things. Let me think that you will help me.¡±


    The words that left her mouth were incomprehensible. She stood up again, screwed open the last bottle of wine, and drank from it.


    ¡°It¡¯s just you and me, bitch.¡± She cackled, pointing at Bona Dea¡¯s expressionless face. ¡°¡®Ganst the wholllllle fuckin¡¯ world, bitch.¡±


    ¡ª-


    Lady Ori woke up with a horrible hangover. She had fallen asleep on the floors. The dead piglet was starting to stink.


    She stared at the bloody plate in a fog. Not sure what else to do, she threw the entire offering into the kitchen trash and walked away from it.


    She wandered through the halls and into the makeshift bedroom she had designated for herself. It was once the living quarters of the Head Matron who oversaw the Postpartum ward. It was spacious¡ªeven more so since Lady Ori only had a bed.


    No furniture, the familiar ache of a hangover, and nearly out of money. This was the sort of atmosphere Julie had liked best, and Lady Ori enjoyed it too. It was a lifestyle that promised nothing and gave nothing. It was familiar.


    The only difference was that now there was a slight tear in her heart, where her romance with Vellim had been.


    As she had told Bona Dea, her love for Vellim had been a complicated sort of feeling that came from Baby Ori.


    But now Lady Ori could only blame herself for the pain she felt. She had to admit it now: she had caught feelings after being with him too often. When the Broglie¡¯s inevitably threw her away, she began to feel the weight of indulging in something like love.


    Heartbreak over a man; it was a whole new shitty world.


    She dressed herself in simple clothing in preparation for hiring staff. The interview process would start in a few hours, and so she busied herself opening the windows and airing out the rooms.


    It was then that someone began rapping at the door.


    Lady Ori groaned and hoped it was not Vellim. She tired of watching him sob, asking her to take him back. He wanted her to debase herself by begging his parents to let them marry again.


    There was no way in hell.


    She pushed open the door. It wasn¡¯t Vellim, thank Bona Dea and all her protections.


    The man in front of her was a stranger. She scanned Baby Ori¡¯s memories and couldn¡¯t find anything but a vague sense that she¡¯d seen his face before.


    He stood only a head taller then Lady Ori, but what he lost in height he gained in his beauty. It was hard to find a man who exuded the same sex appeal as a woman. He had long, silver hair neatly tied back with a ribbon that matched the rest of his immaculate outfit. His eyes were a soft lavender. It was obvious he was nobility.


    ¡°How may I help you?¡± she purred.


    This seemed to catch him off guard, which was good.


    ¡°Please excuse me, My Lady. I am Leven, the third son of the Artois family.¡±


    Lady Ori¡¯s smirk grew, and her heart began to beat in excitement. ¡°Oh?¡± She held out her hand to kiss, ¡°I am Lady Ori, troublesome niece of the Foix family.¡±


    He chuckled and relaxed, taking her hand into his and kissing it for a beat longer than is usually acceptable.


    ¡°May I come in to talk to you, my Lady?¡±


    She leaned her hip against the door and sized him up.


    His soft smile never faltered.


    ¡°No.¡± She decided, ¡°Walk with me to a cafe.¡± Taking the keys from her dress pocket, she locked her doors and began to walk.


    ¡°Oh, please let me escort you.¡±


    She smiled at him and linked their arms. ¡°Of course. I¡¯m quite intrigued by your sudden visit.¡±