《A Classic Tale of Romance》


 Chapter 01 - An Orphanage

    The orphanage is bustling with life, more than it usually is. The weather outside helped bolster their high spirit, with warm sunlight and soothing breeze passing through the building with ease, delivering sounds of laughter and excited whispers about their morning guest.


    Some of them hold onto a project she promises to finish when she''s back, others just want to hear more stories of her adventure, and most are promised gifts and souvenirs from her travels.


    Whatever the case, whatever the reason: the children are patient, not because it is in their nature to be patient, but because they knew she never broke her words to them. Not once.


    So, they eat their breakfast, do their chores, and lie in wait until¡ª"Quinn!" One of the children excitedly screams the name of their beloved guest, ruining her poor attempt at stealth.


    "Ren¨¦!" Quinn excitedly screamed back in reply, alerting the whole building to her presence as the boy jumped into her arms. "You''ve grown taller, little friend!" she says as she raises him to the sky.


    "Not so little anymore, right?" he questions with a grin.


    Quinn chuckles. "Well! You certainly have a big heart." Entertaining him. "Unless...." As she puts him back to the ground with a glint of mystery in her eye.


    "Unless...?" Ren¨¦ bites the bait.


    "Unless all that weight is fat."


    "Wha¡ª!"


    Quinn cuts off his outburst with a bribe, a brightly wrapped honey candy. "There''s more where that came from, including your gift," she promises. "But! I do need to meet with the others first, you understand?" Straightening herself as she pats the boy on the head.


    He pushes her hand away in annoyance, but nods and eats the candy, allowing her to pass undisturbed.


    On her way to the main office of the orphanage, she indeed met the others. Each of them greets her differently but with similar warmth, the kind that rivals the kindness of the very sun.


    Each time, she replies back in kind. Most of the time, she stays a few minutes to interact with the children, joking and playing with them, asking what is their most recent read and how was the story, before she finally manages to enter the office just before lunchtime.


    A thin, tall woman, around sixty of age, covered in a habit greeted her in a cold jeer. "You''re late," she says, voice stern, the expression cold.


    Despite the tone and the stature of her opponent. "Hazard of the job, I am afraid." Quinn''s unrepentant, the opposite of them, in fact. "You understand, or well: you should! If only you''re as popular as I am with the children." Her smile grew wider with each teasing word.


    The old woman looks at her for a long time, studying her smile, her demeanor, and the fact that she''s standing still, waiting for permission to sit down, then: "Come here, you cheeky brat." She smiles and rises from her seat, opening her arms for a hug.


    "How are you, Maman?"


    "As fine as an old woman can be, Quinn."


    "Then, I am glad you''re not that old yet."


    "Oh, you." She pushes Quinn back with a friendly pat on the shoulder. "Stop trying to court me, I am triple your age, child."


    Quinn snorted at the emphasis but didn''t deny it as she sat down. "Of course, of course! My apologies, then, Maman." And dips her head low for a moment.


    Still shaking her head. "How''s your most recent adventure?"


    "Fun!" She starts before dramatically sighing. "Not as fun as the last one, though."


    "Bah! Fun!" Maman answers. "You and your fun." Admonishing her lightly. "At the very least, you''re not hurt, no?"


    "Hurt?!" Quinn shoots up, quickly checking herself for wounds she knew full well were never there. After a minute of the theatrics. "No, I don''t think so." She sits back down with yet another teasing smile.


    Unlike the children, Maman doesn''t take the bait. Kindheartedly, she gives Quinn a little laugh before getting to the point in a roundabout way. "So," she begins, preparing herself.


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    Quinn quickly cuts her off. "So!" By pulling the money she promised out of the magical pouch sewn and hidden in her cloak. "Here''s the money for the year." Putting them on the floor to spare the old table the pain of enduring the heavy golds.


    With each heavy coin pouch she pulled out, Maman''s eyes grew wider and wider. She knew why Quinn never used banknotes for any of her transactions, she simply never expected her to give them this much.


    As if reading her mind. "I read the financial and your askance," Quinn explained herself with an almost sheepish smile. "And I think you''re asking for too little, Maman! Too little for you, too little for the kids." Her smile turns more earnest now, more open.


    "This is...." Maman tries to answer, but again Quinn cuts her off.


    "You can obviously return the money!" she adds in a hurry. "If you don''t want to, that is." This is the first time Maman sees the confident woman unsure of herself. "I truthfully do not mean to insult¡ª"


    So, without even realizing it. "Hm." She begins to chuckle. A small one at first, until it roars and fills the room with bright happiness, one that Quinn can''t help but share with, losing the self-consciousness she felt but a moment ago.


    "Ha! I take it you''re not insulted, then?"


    "Child! Why would I be insulted?"


    "Because I gave you more than you ask for? It feels pretty obvious to me, Maman!"


    "Is that not cause for celebration and not injury?"


    "But! Some do take it as an insult."


    "Well, I am not some people, Quinn."


    With that sentence, the topic ended with both of the women smiling at each other for the last time that day as Quinn stood up and made her excuse to the woman. She has two things to do today, after all.


    The first was to deliver a story during lunch, one she carries out with great effort and even greater success. The tale she told them is a tall tale of one of her adventures, the continuation of the previous one.


    Every word she spoke hooked them closer and closer to her. "And then! With my back to the walls and rows of spears in front, I¡ª!" Before the bell that marks the end of lunch cuts her off.


    All of the students are disappointed, most begging Quinn to just continue the story, a begging that stops once she convinces them she will continue the tale during their dinner together, for she has an even more important mission to accomplish today: delivering her gifts to the children''s bed while they''re in class.


    Unlike the playful stealth she attempts at the front gate of the orphanage, Quinn marshals all of her resources for this one. The hood of the magical cloak she raises, allowing it to cause her entire body to become invisible as the boots and gloves take care of her tracks well enough.


    And one by one, she enters each room and puts a gift upon each bed, never once mistaking one child for the other. She remembers all their names and faces. She remembers what they told her during public and private moments, and also convinced this will be the last time this year she meets them.


    She can feel a change in the wind, the smell of a storm not yet coming. She doesn''t know the cause. But the feeling stays with her even as she tells the children her stories during dinnertime, which diminishes her skills, causing her to not be entirely herself.


    Not out of it, but hyper-focused even while she offered sweet and gentle good nights to each child who spoke to her.


    Only when Quinn is finally alone does she know what her senses are trying to tell her. Taking a seat in the now-empty cafeteria, her expression changed completely from the smile she gave to the children as she spoke. "Please! Sit."


    It was still a wide smile, yes. But sharper, jagged, and edged: the grim smile of a predator, and her opponent feels it, too.


    They hesitate for a moment before fulfilling her order, taking a seat opposite of her, establishing their relationship.


    Quinn eyed them for a moment, taking notes of their drab clothing that covered every part of them, of the mask that covered their face, and the expensive gloves that protected their hand before finally noting the lack of a weapon, obvious or hidden.


    "A client, then!" she concludes. Her eyes are no longer searching the mysterious person, but her surroundings, noticing a few glints of steel and iron hidden in the shadows.


    "... yes, a client." They answer. Their voice has been changed to also become gender neutral and without accents, unidentifiable.


    "Now! Why the secrecy, Client?"


    "Why the curiosity?"


    "Because that''s why people came to me."


    "That''s not why I came to you today, Snake." The emphasis and hostility on the last word make it obvious it is not hesitation nor fear that causes them to stutter, it is hate: Quinn''s favorite reason.


    "Ah! An adoring fan, I see." She starts as she edges closer to the mysterious person. Trying and failing to notice any obvious signs of identity, she sinks back into her seat and rubs her own chin. "Which job of mine, I wonder...." Her smile''s teasing, mocking, challenging.


    She''s sure if she names it, the person will react. She will know them, then: for she never left anyone alive knowing the things she has done without being aware of their true identity.


    The secret client knew it, too. So, instead of taking the bite, they ignore her. "I need you to bite someone for me."


    "A grand favor! Are you willing?"


    "I am willing."


    She laughs. "Good!" Then, cut her own right-hand palm open with a ritual knife. "Who''s the target?" Before giving the same ritual knife to her secret client who eyes it suspiciously for a moment before relenting, opening their glove to reveal a hand unmarred by hard work.


    As they cut open their own right-hand palm, they flinched, getting a masculine voice out of the spell for a moment. Too distracted to notice the spell''s failure, the man spoke the name that gave Quinn her last piece of information "Ana Monte." As they shake hands.


    Quinn begins the ritual with her usual smile. "I promise you her death, by the stars and sea, she will die in my hands." Though her tone is professional.


    When the man finishes it. "I promise you my help, a favor grand for your help, to be called and decided whenever you deem necessary." Mimicking her tone.


    Earnest are their words, no trickery in their oath.


    So, the world bends to remember.


    And punish.

 Chapter 02 - A Battlefield

    The sound of spell-slinging and blades cutting through the air dominates the land. Not many dares live among them, not without armor, shield, or weapon. A few though¡ªthose who serve the Great Mother¡ªdo.


    Most of the time, they heal the sick and needy whenever necessary, without question or prerequisites. That''s why every mortal community was quick to accept them, quick to treat them with respect and deference.


    This one is different, though. They''re from a very specific chapter of the Great Mother''s Temple: The Chapter of Holy Fire. They walk through the battlefield with purpose in their gait and an unbending expression on their face.


    Their sharp eyes gaze upon the dead and wounded and seek specific kinds of marks on their shoulders. They meet some that are without, some that try to falsify it, but only stop for the people with the true mark¡ªthe rebels.


    Most of them see righteousness in their actions, though some hesitate to ignore the suffering of their enemies, for the Great Mother loves all, no matter the crime.


    Despite their doubts on the virtue of their conduct, they move forward, because the woman leading them does not stop. Her bright blue eyes always look forward, toward the people she helped and will help.


    Her expression''s a mask, unchanging and hard. Contrasting them is her tone: a mountain water cold, refreshing and soothing. Supporting them are her words: kind and unwavering.


    With steps steady, she continues on her pace, ignoring her surroundings, who ignore her in return.


    As the day continues, spells badly missing, reach her instead; errant arrows and wild blades seek the taste of her flesh.


    And despite the protective spells she cast upon herself, she still ends it with gashes, some trivial and others deep in her soot-covered porcelain skin. Having exhausted her spells for the day, she spent the night healing again.


    Manually, she cleans her own wounds, stitches her flesh together, and then gives them bandages before her feet move again to the people who follow her to the battlefield today. Once more, she heals other people.


    It was almost midnight when she was done checking on the last of her colleagues, so she took her time cleaning herself with a wet towel, avoiding the freshly dressed wounds while still addressing her hygiene.


    Without the cover of her habit, burn marks that ran through the entire left half of her body, including her face, become visible. The reason many people fear her the first time they laid eyes on her. A problem easily solved after they knew she was the Matriarch of the Chapter, and an excellent healer besides.


    Still, she would''ve hoped they see her as more than that; wishing more than anything that such a fear does not turn into a deference that distances them from her. After all, before anything else, she''s human.


    "Am I not?" she asked the gentle wind while studying her left palm, marred by fiery fire. When no answers came, she sighed and moved on.


    Her last destination was the center of the temple, the main place of worship. There, she stands alone, her golden hair shining under the moonlight. The prayers that escape her lips are a prayer in the Second Tongue, a liturgical language with no written form.


    Almost half an hour she remained there before she finally decided to stop, lest she fall from the day''s exhaustion. Sleep came easy to her, with no dreams blooming inside her focused mind.


    With no need for alarm, she rises earlier than the sun. And again, she repeats her routine. A wet towel bath to start the day, the wearing of her habit, the prayer, breaking fast with her colleagues, then... nothing.


    No drums of war, no horns, no trumpets, nor enemies at their gate.


    The confusion it causes to the people in the temple¡ªher included¡ªis obvious, but before she can go to the command''s tent and ask for clarity by herself, the commander himself pays her a visit.


    "My apologies, Matriarch," he says when their eyes meet, bowing.


    "Ana is fine, General," she replies with a hand offered in peace.


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    But the man didn''t see it. "Of course, Matriarch Ana." And corrects himself in a way that almost makes Ana wince, as if the title hurts her. "My apologies again."


    Seeing no way to corrects the man attitude or way of addressing her without completely derailing the conversation, Ana ignores them, then: "Accepted." With a quick word, she dismisses the topic. "Is that all, General?" And returns them to the most important one.


    "No... of course not, Matriarch Ana." The general raises his head to look her in the eye. "Apologies again." Before dipping them low once more.


    Almost a year she was here and still she was unsure whether the general was an apologetic man to everyone or just to her, and if it was the latter: what caused it? The tone of my voice?


    Keeping the question at the back of her throat. "Accepted." She repeats the same response before trying to steer them back to the topic once more. "I assume it has something to do with today''s lack of battle?"


    "Yes, Matriarch Ana."


    "I assume the decision is recently made?"


    "Yes, Matriarch Ana."


    "I assume the intelligence that informs such a decision is confidential?"


    "Ye¡ªno, Matriarch Ana."


    She raises an eyebrow at the unexpected answer. After all, despite the man''s deference and apologetic nature to her¡ªif not to everyone¡ªhe''s still a great leader of an army, lovingly holding all of his cards close to his chest is his nature.


    Out of curiosity, then: "Are you willing to share?" she asks.


    "Yes, Matriarch Ana." The general quickly answers before continuing. "An extended engagement with the enemy has caused the tally of our dead and injured to expand exponentially, and the effective blockade of some of our supply chain amplifies the effect. This is all not helped by the current stalemate, further reducing the troop''s morale."


    "But we have experienced this long before, have we not, General?"


    "We have, Matriarch Ana. But... this is the first time the enemy decided not to engage us. There''s no movement from anywhere. Not from the besieged city or from the surrounding woods. We are... safe." He says the last word with disbelieving eyes as if refusing still to accept that it''s real.


    "I see...," she whispers low, quickly thinking and deciding the next course of action. Before the general can cut her off with another apology or a yes, she continues: "Then I shall assign most of my colleagues to the medical tent today, to take care of the injured. The rest shall help you perform burial rites for your soldiery, may their souls quickly return to the Source."


    "Thank you, Matriarch Ana!" The man bows deep again, out of gratitude this time, it hides a genuine smile that reaches his eyes.


    But Ana catches them, reinvigorated by it. "It is my pleasure, General," she replied, honest and genuine.


    Having decided on the next course of action and seeing the general leave the temple, she informs her peers of the plan, assigning them to their duties before she walks towards the medical tent, where she will be most helpful.


    Most of the people here can be helped by mundane means, one which she''s also an expert in. The ones that can''t be helped by sutures, casts, and bandages have spells cast on them, quickening their own body healing capabilities, regenerating missing limbs and organs, and even curing them of battle fatigue.


    The case that can''t be helped by the mundane and magical, though, is the reason why Ana is there today. Sometimes, an assault is so fatal and deadly, that even when the victim survives the immediate attack through the help of the mundane and magical, they have no future but death due to the injuries the strike causes.


    She will not have that.


    No ally of hers shall die under her watch, not while she draws breaths. A deep one she takes before she sits beside the bed of the young woman who gazes upon her half-conscious.


    "Are you... Death?" she asked, voice hoarse and resigned.


    "No," Ana answers while her hand takes hold of the deep wound in the woman''s chest. "I am not," she repeats, unsheathing the dagger hidden in her habit.


    The young woman''s eye went wide when she caught the glint of steel. Expecting such a reaction. "You will not meet the Merciful Blade today." Ana tries to calm her down with a voice so commanding and sure that the soldier locks eyes with her.


    And with a promise. "You are going to be okay." She stabs her own chest slowly; at the same place the woman suffers her laceration. Some patients, including the woman, gasp at such a display, but her colleagues pay her no attention, they know what she''s doing.


    Empathetic Healing. As the dagger cuts her skin and sprays red to her habit, the incision on the woman closes a little. When the daggers dig deeper and burst open more veins, the woman''s gash becomes shallower instead. And when it reached the same exact depth as the woman''s injury, it was gone entirely.


    The woman still needs healing and rest, certainly, but she''s not safe from the worst. The same cannot be said for Ana. Her breathing is heavy, her consciousness threatening to slip away, leaving her in a pool of her own blood.


    But before they can escape: she takes hold of her own mind and speaks a prayer in the Second Tongue. Unlike the way she prayed this morning or last night, her words are forceful and quick as she once again takes hold of the dagger and swiftly pulls it free from her chest, so close to her beating heart it bites.


    But the prayer should be enough to guard her from death and exhaustion. With that in mind, she stands. "Have a fast recovery, Ms...?" she asks, bleeding and pale.


    "Um.... Baker."


    "Have a fast recovery, Ms. Baker," she repeats, then. "You''re out of the worse, but still have some wounds on you that are not entirely artificial," Ana explains, dripping blood on the floor. "So please don''t force yourself to do any hard labor until we give you the permission to do so."


    Rendered speechless by the absurdity of what''s currently happening, the woman can only nod, enough to satisfy Ana.


    She nods back. "Good day." And walks away.

 Chapter 03 - A Chance Encounter, Part 01

    Quinn must admit her target has made a point to hide well, though her struggle was not helped by the fact that her mission now put her in opposition with the Mutilated Hand, the one international organization unrivaled in their spy networks.


    And as good as they are at uncovering secrets, they''re even better at hiding them. The cryptography as known today was practically invented by their members, the paranoid revolutionaries and anarchists hellbent on destroying all monarchies from the face of the continent.


    Still, they will not directly oppose her and ruin their working relationship forever. With that in mind, Quinn turns to a lesser alternative, one she has prepared in preparation for a day like today.


    Certainly, they''re not equal in their intelligence with the Mutilated Hand, for they never do wet work, but their information should suffice. Or it should be if the chapter she chases is not of the Order-Militant of the Great Mother''s Temple.


    This means she has no sketch of her, or her rank on the temple hierarchy; nor does her client, who has no other details but a name whispered by the rebels like a prayer, as if she''s sent by heaven itself.


    An information not useful to her who also heard the name through the same kind of people: the desperate and angry in the West. They refer to her as a saint in the making, and if Quinn has anything to do with it, she will make sure the woman becomes a saint, by hastening the only qualification left for her target to fulfill.


    And she shall do it with limited information if she must. She knew the name of the company she was attached to and the fort they''d built and defended for the past year, it should be enough.


    Seeing no more point in dawdling, she left the orphanage and the children who almost tempted her to prolong her stay. Almost.


    Her destination is deep into contested territories, and though sometimes that would mean being careful and creative in her approach, it was not the case this time. She wanted her enemies and allies both to know she was coming for someone: no one but her and her client knew who her target was yet.


    So, she nurtures trust between her and her target''s allies. She pays them for passage and tells them half-truths to half-remember and report back to their commander, who is happy enough to take her money and explanation without further investigation.


    After all, she and the rebels have worked together for the same reason before.


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    "Ah, murder!" she spoke aloud and alone. "It truly brings people together." As she finally laid eyes upon her destination after close to a fortnight of travel. It was worthy of having a fort in its name, with the parapets guarding it standing strong and imposing despite being made of something as flammable as wood.


    For a moment, she considers how to get inside, into the encampments beyond the fortification beside the obvious. The beginning of a rather cunning and devious idea begins to take shape in her mind when not so far from her in the forest surrounding the battlements, she hears a familiar rustle of the bushes.


    There''s no wind, so it can''t be a breeze. She sees no animal tracks nearby, so it was almost impossible for it to be a game or their predator, not this close to a large temporary settlement of people with weapons that are unafraid to use it.


    Another person, then, she concludes as she pulls out her dagger with an impish smile plastered onto her face, excited to get some practice in before the real hunt begins. She raises the hood of her cloak, activating its magical effect.


    Covered in invisibility absolute with her boots and years of training doing the job of covering her tracks accompanied by a final spell to reduce the sound she produces, Quinn proceeds.


    She approaches the source of the sound with giddy excitement not dissimilar to a child opening a present. She doesn''t believe there''s danger in her way, and even if there is: she can handle it.


    With that in mind and dagger in hand, she rushes out of the bush and¡ªnothing.


    As quick as her movement, is the sudden appearance of hesitance in her skull, visiting the whole of her body; halting her to a pause.


    Why? She questions, and as if to answer: the source of the sound turns to face her.


    She has a basket in hand, half filled with medicinal herbs. Her habits are a tad dirty from the soil, her hands are in no better condition. Yet, the woman was unconcerned of such a thing.


    Her face¡ªmarred by fire¡ªis set in a stony mask of focus, beautiful under the moonlight that manages to pierce through the woods'' canopy.


    Quinn smiles when she hears the word echo in her mind. The woman is gorgeous indeed, someone she will certainly try to persuade to spend a night with her after she''s done with the job.


    A night Quinn is sure to be pleasant, especially when she imagines those¡ªQuinn''s train of thought was cut short when the woman looked straight at her, locking their eyes together.


    For a moment, Quinn believed she had been found out, followed closely by an unwilling yet pleasant observation she made of the woman: her eyes are a pair of stunning sapphires. And to even be looked by it, send shivers down her spine.


    It doesn''t surprise her, then, when she''s a little disappointed that the woman did not look at her but at the herbs behind her.


    The disappointment doesn''t last long. For when the woman moves past her, Quinn manages to catch her sweet and intoxicating aroma¡ªnot her body odor, certainly, but not a perfume either¡ªit was heavy and lingering far longer in the air than it should be, but still fresh with a note of citrus somehow.


    Whatever it is, Quinn wants more of it the same way she wants to hear the woman''s voice. And considering she has no desire to become a mere stalker, she finally decides to confront the woman.


    Easily, she drops the hood of her cloak and invisibility. Then, with her most charming smile: "Quite late for foraging, don''t you think?" she begins a conversation.

 Chapter 04 - A Chance Encounter, Part 02

    Ana has been to the forest for the last three days trying to scavenge any plants with medicinal properties to help the patients in the sick bay recover. It was not a job she was expecting to be doing or what was expected from her.


    But she doesn''t see much of a choice, not after they lost yet another supply cart to the royalists and the medicines for the rebels alongside much wood and rations. Winter is going to be rough this year, and she will do anything to make it easier for all of them.


    Which is why, despite the warnings of her colleagues, she has been going to the forest each evening and has stayed her course until midnight came and forced her home. She had thought herself safe, and if not: are more than capable of driving off most attackers.


    Unfortunate, then, that the first time she ever found herself in need of defense: not only is she alone, but against an enemy far outside her caliber.


    The moment she sees her intruder, Ana recognizes the almost certain doom that hovers over her, though she has no plan on giving it so easily to the woman, to the Hunter.


    As if reading her mind, the woman''s smile drops for a moment. "I promise you I mean you no harm, Sister."


    "You''re no sister of mine," Ana rebutted, more out of wariness than anything.


    "Then, I promise you no harm, Matriarch," the woman guesses correctly. "Not unless the need arises for me to do so." With a good enough promise beside.


    She has heard a lot of this woman, her posters distributed in some kingdoms as co-conspirators in some of the most cruel and successful schemes in the continent.


    And despite her roguish smile and devilish attitude, Ana also heard she has never once broken an oath. Assured by that information, she allows herself to drop her defenses and study the woman more closely.


    She''s wearing a practical set of clothes, with a form-fitting set of leather armor covering her entire body from the neck down. Tied to her neck is a cloak that shines with powerful magic, while hanging from her belt are tools of her trade: daggers, lock picks, potions, rope, and much more mundane tools.


    She expected those, which is why her attention is quickly drawn to the woman''s body and face¡ªat least, that what she told herself is the reason. She''s lean and tall, and no part of her skin is marked by scars besides a strange one beneath her left eye.


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    Ana almost reaches out to trace it before a voice stops her: "Like what you see, Matriarch?" voice teasing, but not disapproving of her action.


    Caught off-guard, Ana slowly pulls her hand back before gazing into the woman''s deep emerald eye with a quiet defiance. "Yes." And honesty in her tone, refusing to lie despite how much it embarrasses her to admit it.


    In reply, the woman laughed. The sound was earnest and charming to Ana''s ears, so she didn''t interrupt her laugh or her attempt at introducing herself right after she was done.


    With a practice bow¡ªinstead of a curtsy¡ª"The name''s Quinn," Quinn introduces herself, hiding a playful smile with her bow. "At your service."


    An opposite to Quinn''s theatrics. "Article 15, section 3 of the Holy Fire Wartime Conducts." Ana''s practiced answers are cold. "No members of the Chapter shall introduce themselves to a third party without confirming beyond the shadow of a doubt the party''s affiliation and loyalty."


    "Ha! Of course, I understand, Matriarch." Quinn shrugs nonchalantly. "I did just confirm that I am no enemy of yours, though. Did I not?"


    "You''re a sellsword, Mrs. Nathair."


    "Quinn would do just fine, Matriarch. And I am no one''s mistress. Unless... you want to make me one?"


    "You''re a sellsword, Ms. Quinn," Ana repeats, ignoring Quinn''s question; eliciting a snort of amusement from Quinn.


    "I am," she confirms, making it easier for Ana to get to her point.


    "It means you have no loyalty but to the highest bidder."


    "Sure!" Again, an affirmative accompanied by a handsome smile, almost distracting Ana from her stance. "I have no loyalty but to the highest bidder." Almost.


    "Which means¡ª"


    "¡ªI am your ally, Matriarch." Quinn cuts her off. And when Ana eyes her still with suspicion, she relents. "Or will soon be, anyway!"


    "How come?"


    "I am going to offer my service to Adder inside, and he will accept."


    The confidence she imbued in her sentence makes Ana doubt her own judgment. The way Quinn''s surprisingly cute face moves slightly to the side as Ana studies her is not helping either.


    It''s making her ask irrelevant questions, unimportant questions, detracting questions. Questions that are not a matter of the head but of the¡ª"Why?" Ana forces her own questions out, to ignore and stops her train of thought.


    "Why?" Quinn echoes in confusion.


    "Why would he accept, Ms. Quinn?"


    As if waiting for such a question to be asked, Quinn smiles bends knowingly into something more twisted. "Because I will kill a duke for him, free of charge." And when she explains her reasoning, it is not with confidence.


    Ana recognized the tone, the way her eyes shone with an almost manic fire as she spoke the sentence. Quinn has faith, not in the world, not in the deities, but in herself.


    "I see." Idly, Ana wonders if she can have the same confidence in herself one day, to accompany her resolve. However, she quickly shakes herself out of the thought with a shake of her head.


    "Oh! You believe me, then?"


    "I see no reason to distrust you."


    "Besides the fact that I am a sellsword with no loyalty to anyone but the highest bidder?" she repeats Ana''s own words back to her, forcing a small smile out of her as she answers in affirmative: "Yes."


    The rest of the journey they spent in a quiet conversation, with Quinn being the one starting and leading all of them until they finally reach camp.


    There, they say their goodbye, and with hesitance: separate themselves from each other.

 Chapter 05 - A Clear Denial

    Quinn resisted the temptation to look back, she knew herself enough to understand that what was rising deep inside her guts was not mere lust. However, she will not let that distract her from her mission and the promise she needs to fulfill.


    So, with a renewed sense of purpose, she walks to the largest tent in the encampment, the flaps that act as its door guarded by two burly soldiers who disappointingly did not cross their polearms together when she drew near, but still command her to a halt with their hand.


    "What business you have with the General?"


    "I am tempted to say urgent business just to make him worry," Quinn replies with a smile. "But! I am thinking of being civil today, so please just inform him that there''s a snake in the grass."


    Both of the soldiers eye her with suspicion but are smart enough to recognize that her words are some sort of a passphrase, so after a short and silent discussion, one of them goes beyond the flaps while the other guards the outside still.


    Quinn knew the wait would be short, so she merely smiled at the men as she passed both of them by, a mocking and smug one that they could not return.


    As soon as she was inside, her expression changed again. "Adder! My good man!" she greets when she finds the man sitting behind his desk after a short walk. "How are you this fine evening, friend?"


    "Spare me your honeyed words, Nathair."


    "Quinn works just fine."


    "Why are you here, Nathair?" Again, the same hostility her client holds. Something she deserved for a lot of reasons from a lot of people, but certainly not from the general; not yet.


    Still, she maintains the cordiality. "I am here, to offer my help! In murdering the Duke, General," Quinn says with a pleasant smile as she takes a seat without being offered.


    She doesn''t know which dukes of this old kingdom are giving them trouble, but whoever they are, none of them will be her clients, so she''s fine in pursuing this half-truth hoping the general will fill the rest.


    Sure enough: "... why are you interested in Holloway''s death?" He named it after a moment of hesitation, believing Quinn already knew such a piece of trivial information. She doesn''t obviously, the Mutilated Hand is not that ignorant of her business, nor is she a genius who knew about all the things in the world, despite the general populace''s assumption.


    But, of course: she will never elucidate them on the true nature of herself, not when it''s almost always to her benefit when they make errors on their reading of her.


    Instead, she will take advantage of it.


    "Because! He''s my way in." With half-truths. "And you already plan his death, no?" And confident assumptions. The latter was made trivial by easily available facts revealed to her during their conversation so far.


    The look of surprise that''s usually there when Quinn guesses correctly is nowhere to be found on the general''s face, this is not the first time he faces Quinn, after all. Rather, the scowl on display is for worries of a breach somewhere in their intelligence.


    Quinn can assure him of the safety of his network, but she would much rather he worries, so she let him stew until he''s done and ready to speak again.


    "Very well, but I would appreciate it if you coincide your assassination with our assault on his realm." He speaks as a leader of people now. "We have him surrounded, but his personal regiment is strong, forcing us to pay for every advancement we make." A veteran military man explaining the field to an equal. "We are not helped by the fact that he''s an excellent strategist with the absolute confidence of his men beside; most of whom are levies untrained in nothing but the most basic principle of combat. Which means¡ª"


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    "You''re hoping Holloway''s death will cause his army to be demoralized. You want him dead on the battlefield, not on his death bed."


    General Adder nods at Quinn''s assessment, there''s nothing to correct. He was asking her to embark on a suicidal mission.


    And in response, Quinn smiles; baring her teeth to display the daring that burns in her eyes. "You will have it!" As she stands and offers her hand to Adder.


    "In a month''s time, we will be ready to move. Camp with us for now, ask for accommodation from the Great Mother''s Temple."


    At that suggestion, Quinn raised a curious brow. "Oh?"


    "They''ve lost a few good people over the course of the war and now have some empty beds to fill."


    "And your host doesn''t?"


    "My army is replenished twice over each time the royalist took one of us."


    "I see. Great to hear that!"


    "Thank you. Now, I believe that is all?"


    "Yes, yes! Just, one more thing?"


    "Yes?"


    "Do you know the name of their Matriarch?"


    "Article 15, section 3 of the Holy Fire Wartime Conducts."


    Quinn laughs at the expected answer and leaves the tent, making her way to the largest and most magical building in the settlement. As she walks in, she can smell the Matriarch in the air, quickly gaining an answer to her earlier question.


    "Incense, huh."


    "Yes," a familiar voice from behind her answered.


    She turns to find the Matriarch behind her, still plastered with the cold expression she wears during most of her conversation thus far. Fortunately, Quinn has faced many of her kind before: the self-serious bureaucrat and monarchs that can''t take a single joke without a jeer and cutting words.


    However, the Matriarch has never done both to her, not yet.


    Which makes her more tolerable to Quinn. "Matriarch!" Who greets the woman with an almost earnest smile. "How glad am I to see you."


    "I am made to understand that you''re to bed with us until further notice?" she asked, not replying to the greeting.


    Used to being ignored: "Unfortunately! Yes." She follows the flow of conversation easily. "I will be more than satisfied to simply have my own bed for my lonesome for now. Though, at a later date: I don''t mind sharing it."


    "Then we shall put you in the bunk bed with one of the soldiers," the Matriarch answers, as if oblivious to the innuendo.


    After a light chuckle. "I do not mind that!" Quinn replied. "Thank you, Matriarch."


    "Then our business is concluded," she says with finality. "Simply go forward, then left on the first hallway you find. Your room is third from the hallway."


    Faced with no obvious way to find out which member of the Chapter of the Holy Fire she needs to murder and the exhaustion from her journey here. "Mhm! Good night and good dreams, Matriarch." Quinn waves her goodbye as she takes her first step at following the Matriarch''s direction.


    Yet, before she could walk far. "And Quinn." The Matriarch''s voice stopped her.


    Turning back. "Yes?" Quinn throws her a curious smile.


    "I am also glad to see you again so soon." A smile that grew wider as soon as she heard the woman''s words.


    So, there''s hope, after all! She celebrates in her mind as she watches her walk away from her. For a moment, Quinn thought of inviting her back to the room, but that was too bold.


    Yes, the Matriarch is a bold, young woman who thus far has spoken her mind plainly and without reservation, and while Quinn is sure she''s no prude: she''s also sure the Matriarch is not someone that easily tempted.


    Quinn is sure she can do it, though. As long as the Matriarch expects nothing more than a one-night stand with no strings and feeling attached, I can do just fine. She repeats.


    And at such a repetition, then; when it became clear to her who was her target and what she was hoping from her that terrible and familiar feeling began to rise to her throat, like a bile waste waiting to be puked out.


    But she couldn''t do it, because she suspected she knew what kind of feeling was rising inside of her. What fills her gut and heart is no mere lust, at least not only in the body. She knew the name of this terrible feeling, once. She has experienced it, and has promised herself to never again redo it.


    Not after last time, not after what she has become in spite of it.


    Still, a great peddler of snake oils she might be, she can''t trick herself.


    The feelings are real, they''re there. But it is not yet love. This means she still has time to crush and destroy it while trying to bed the Matriarch. And when that happens and she has no regret at leaving her side before the sun rises, she shall have proof of her victory, then.


    Yes, yes! That could certainly work! she thought, satisfied by the beginning of a plan in her head, seemingly unaware of how she had talked herself into chasing after the woman still, instead of doing the obvious and keeping her distance.


    The very same trickery that was happening somewhere else in the temple.

 Chapter 06 - An Unconvincing Lie

    Ana walks past the hallway with an unusually clouded head, something that happens tonight bothers her, and not exactly in a bad way. With no more jobs to do, she takes a turn away from her room, heading to the communal shower instead, hoping it will clear her head from the fog.


    And while it certainly does help clear the fog, her mind refuses to calm down. In lieu of the fog are thoughts of plans for the future, of what they''re going to do should indeed supplies run short and their medicines could not hold.


    Then, it moves to the past without her noticing, too busy planning for the worse. She sees herself alone and young, praying and begging for proof. On the verge of tears, that was the first and last time the Great Mother refused her answer.


    She shakes her head, erasing the image from her mind. There are more important things to think of than such a past, though she knew what brings the past on.


    The present, the gift of today in the form of an unexpected yet not unpleasant guest. An impish smile, overinflated confidence, and the gait of a daredevil combined into a tall and lean murderer.


    Ana understood what people expected of her to feel about the woman, about Quinn. She and people like her have directly or indirectly caused harm to the helpless and desperate, feeding off their hopelessness to lure them into utter destruction.


    Yet, when she imagines that face; that bright emerald eye, she''s unable to do so. Not only does Quinn fail to disgust her, but rouses the opposite feeling in her pit instead. Something that doesn''t scare her, but it is perhaps because she''s unfamiliar with the feeling.


    Whatever the feeling might be, she merely hopes the feeling does not distract her from her sworn duty. After all, she was sure it was nothing negative. With that in mind, she finishes the bath and makes her way again to the center of the temple.


    And again, she prays. Her prayer is the same as it has been since she answered the calling: for the safety of her colleagues, of the people that make up the soldiery, of the general, and of Quinn.


    Despite putting her name last, she does not do so as an afterthought, more absentmindedly, following the routine of praying for the people she cares about, deeply or otherwise.


    Her face twists into a scowl from confusion with that realization. Once more, irrelevant and distracting questions enter her mind. Problems for my future self, she notes as she closes her eyes, delivering one last prayer to the Great Mother, asking¡ªbegging¡ªfor answers.


    Only then does she go to sleep, hoping for a slumber peaceful and undisturbed under the kind and watchful eye of the moon. But a familiar dream bloom in full instead, its seed has been planted since her time in the bath.


    Ana sees herself young and alone, praying and begging for proof. On the verge of tears, that was the first and last time the Great Mother refused her answer. Walls of fire surround her, threatening to consume her, but her prayers are not for safety: but for a trade.


    She''s kneeling in front of a child her own age, their body wounded deep by fire, charred by it. "Please," the young Ana pleaded. "Anything." Desperate. "Everything!" And tired. There''s no stopping her tears now, the emotion and smoke both are too much for her now.


    When nothing happens. "I¡ªI didn''t mean to! I didn''t know!" she continues with an explanation painted fully in guilt. "Please...." She prostate, no longer able to bear the full moon. "They... they loved you!" It''s thin and lusterless in her eyes. "Be real for them. Please! Be real for them." Her chest hurt, and so did her face.


    The smoke is choking her now, the fire climbs her clothes. She deserved it¡ªall of it¡ªbut not them.


    Ana doesn''t even know why she continues to watch, why she gazes all around her as if something will change this time: nothing does, nothing ever does. Not for her, not because of her.


    The next thing she remembers is waking up as the sole survivor. They said the fire didn''t even touch her, only eat all that is artificial about her. Some called it a miracle, but Ana can only see it as a sign and punishment.


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    Because it was. When she wakes up, she does not do so in surprise or cold sweat. Rather, she woke up with a renewed sense of purpose and the clarity of mind to realize she must never pursue the secret her heart hides.


    For she already has a purpose and destination. One that does not involve a murderer, an architect of massacres and fraud. Steeling her resolve, she blew away doubt with a deep breath before starting her day all over again.


    There''s another battle to be fought today, but seeing as the moon still rules the sky: she has time to prepare. So, she does. She makes sure her supplies of medicines and first-aid kits to still be plenty by doing some inventory and just a little work with the mortar and pestle.


    After grinding down the dried herbs she gathered last night, she moves to check on the people still languishing in the sick bay. Most of them are only there to rest in a cleaner and less crowded environment than the barracks, but some are still sick.


    She remembers all of their name, giving them the necessary treatment, advice, and medicine in a manner effective and timely before checking on the rest of the patients; making sure no one is getting worse from the cold.


    When she was sure of it, she went to the center of the temple to deliver a quick prayer. The same one as last night, only this time: she consciously stopped herself from specifically naming Quinn in her prayer.


    Assigning bath to after today''s battle, she spent the last of dawn trying to scavenge some more in the forest before breakfast was served. Yesterday''s interruption from Quinn forces her to stop early, an error she now seeks to correct.


    Yet, as if reading her mind or are capable of precise portend: "Oh, hello, Matriarch!" The woman interrupts her attempt at foraging the forest yet again, from the top of a tree branch this time.


    Ana doesn''t even know what Quinn tries to see up there, considering the lack of light anywhere but the sky, making her scouting attempt seem rather futile to Ana, though she does not say that.


    Instead, "Hello, Ms. Quinn," she replied as the woman jumped down from the branch back to earth, landing gracefully with a warm smile on her face. Upon their third meeting, Ana is confident that the woman''s odor is unnatural but neither perfume nor incense.


    She''s saying something, but Ana is focused on trying to recognize Quinn''s aroma. It smells floral with a note of wood, much like a.... "... lavender?"


    "... that is why I¡ªlavender?" Quinn cuts herself when she hears Ana''s last word.


    "Why do you smell like lavender, Ms. Quinn?"


    When Ana clarifies her question. "Ah! That!" Quinn''s smile turns more attractive, like a bard about to perform. "I was loved by the fairies, Matriarch. And that is one of their many gifts before the unfortunate end to our relationship."


    Her smile does not change, but Ana is sure she sees a glint of regret in her eye, something that is gone when she continues: "A story for another time, perhaps! Accompanied by drinks and romantic candles, preferably, hm?"


    And despite Ana''s interest in the story. "No," she bluntly answered the playful invitation.


    To Quinn''s credit. "Or not!" She easily rolls with rejection. "Alas, my invitation stands, and your question answered. Which means, you should be willing to answer a question of mine, no?"


    "Article¡ª"


    "Hahahahaha!" Quinn cuts her off with a light and bubbling laugh. "Please, Matriarch. I promise I won''t ask about your name."


    "I see. Good. Go on, then."


    "Thank you! Now, do you mind if I accompany you in your foraging?" she asked. "As an apology for surprising you and forcing you to escort me back to camp yesterday."


    Ana almost asks how the woman knows, but the answer is weighing on her right arm: the same basket she brought last night during their first meeting. With no worry of her mind being read, her brain became a place of open warfare between two ideas: allowing Quinn to accompany her or not.


    The woman clearly has an interest in her, and to allow her to accompany her means encouraging said interest despite her blunt refusal from earlier. Still, Ana doesn''t see the harm of permitting her to come with her, just this once.


    With that in mind, "Yes," she answers her, hoping she''s indeed capable of denying her last time. For now, she assumes the key was to not look her straight in the eye when she says no.


    Unfortunately, she already made that mistake. "Thank you!" Quinn''s smile widens and reaches her eye when she fully processes Ana''s answer.


    With a deep and whimsical bow, "After you, then, Matriarch." She steps aside. "I will watch your back." Allowing Ana to continue deeper into the forest with Quinn following closely behind.


    Much like their walk yesterday night, Quinn made up most of the conversation: starting with the weather and moving toward a more personal territory later on. Despite that, somehow, she always manages to avoid topics that may reveal sensitive information for both parties while still being an engaging and charming conversationalist.


    Trained for it, I am sure, Ana thinks. After all, that is the nature of all wet workers: charming to a fault to lure their prey to a comfortable position before they strike.


    Yes, that must be it, she says inside her skull. It''s not that I found her charming, it is that she tries hard to be charming and I am merely falling for it. Uttering the first lie in her life to herself.

 Chapter 07 - Another Day at the Battlement, Part 01

    Like a chick to her mother, Quinn followed the Matriarch for almost a fortnight now. Not just to the forest, but to the sick bay, to the center of the temple, to the mess hall, and anywhere else where privacy was not expected.


    And while the Matriarch never objects, she certainly has commented on Quinn''s desire to follow her on the third day she asked for permission to do the same thing: "Why?"


    A fair question from a fair maiden¡ªthough I wouldn''t have a problem if she was no maiden, "I simply would like to know how the Chapter of the Holy Fire works and operate." So, Quinn also gave a fair answer, though it was only half true and her smile was not exactly sincere due to her own mind''s game.


    Not privy to Quinn''s thoughts and secrets, and having no reason to suspect otherwise: the Matriarch offers no more objections or questions about her purpose after. Despite that, Quinn always makes sure to ask.


    Yes, consent is important and all that. But, more than that: she wants the Matriarch to be used to saying yes to her. Not because Quinn believed that would make her always say yes to all of her requests. Rather, she believed it would make the woman try to justify her own actions to herself and endear Quinn to her.


    After all, why would you repeatedly say yes to someone''s requests unless you like them, or at the very least, find them tolerable? Quinn asked, the question rhetorical to her own mind for the answer''s obvious, and so is the result of her not-so-subtle attempt at endearing herself to the Matriarch.


    Now, on the twelfth day Quinn asks to accompany her and is allowed to, while in the forest: the Matriarch seems genuinely interested in the conversation, not just listening politely to Quinn''s words, perhaps it has something to do with the topic at hand.


    It started with: "You''re very dedicated to the cause, huh." Quinn comments absentmindedly as she watches the forest for intruders while the Matriarch gathers more herbs, deeper in the forest and further away from camp.


    Perhaps it was because of Quinn''s absentminded comment. "I am." Whatever it was, the woman does not stop talking today: "I''ve promised myself I will do it¡ªdo this, and spent all my effort on it without pause since I was seven," she continues, passionate about the subject.


    It was only by her training that she was able to stop herself from reflexively asking, ''why?''


    Instead, she swallowed the word and did what any normal human being would do.


    With a chuckle to lighten the mood, she walks closer to the woman. "We''re pretty similar on that front, then, Matriarch." And also share a little piece of her.


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    And when the woman''s bright blue eyes looked straight at her with a glimmer of curiosity, Quinn couldn''t help but share more, just to make sure her attention was still on Quinn.


    "I made the promise when I was eight, wet with blood that''s not my own," she whispers, as if it''s a secret.


    With each word she whispers, the woman walks closer and closer, until they''re but a few inches apart. This close to her, Quinn notices quirks about her that she never noticed before.


    She notices that the woman is just a head shorter than her, causing her shadow to fall upon the Matriarch, allowing Quinn to notice another detail. Besides the way her nose is curved in a cute yet elegant way, her eyes are not actually that light of a blue; they only shine from reflected light.


    This close, it was a dark blue sea, swirling and swallowing all of Quinn''s attention; threatening to drown her.


    And despite the fact that she cannot swim, the deal doesn''t sound that bad to her, not right now. Not until¡ª"Are you alright?" the low mezzo of the Matriarch''s voice awoke her from her trance.


    "Hm?" She raises an eyebrow an instant before realizing the tale she just told. "Ah! Yes, yes, I am. It was a long time ago, I am fine now."


    "I see. I am glad."


    "Thank you for listening, then!"


    "Mhm." Comes the quick reply as the woman takes a step back, making Quinn believe she won''t reciprocate, Quinn''s wrong: "It was not blood that wet me, it was myself," she begins.


    Her voice grew lower now, mimicking Quinn''s, but not exactly a whisper, it was the tone that was going down, growing somber. "I was... scared. Indecisive, a coward unable to simply make a decision." There was hatred bubbling into her sentence with each word released, as if ejected forcefully from her throat instead of spoken.


    Quinn recognizes the self-loathing, the silence that she took right after noticing it, too. Not out of embarrassment. No, she''s staying silent while gazing at Quinn, waiting for her judgment.


    Yet, Quinn sees no reason to judge her. She wants the woman to trust her enough to be vulnerable, and she does, and Quinn hates it. So instead, she smiles a sympathetic and soothing smile as she once more closes the distance between them, closer this time.


    Her right hand¡ªher real hand¡ªhovers above the Matriarch''s shoulder, allowing her to see the physical contact Quinn is about to make and move away. When she doesn''t, Quinn touches and squeezes her shoulder, softly.


    In a voice soft, as if speaking to a child: "But you''re not that anymore, are you?" Quinn asked her question. And despite her tone, there''s no condescension or condemnation in her question; only sincerity.


    Her smile was weak, but encouraging. She''s trying to comfort her, as best as she can.


    Hearing the diffidence the woman has for herself, the self-disgust was the line for Quinn.


    After all, while it is true that she simply wants to bed the woman without serious commitments, she doesn''t think the Matriarch deserves all the judgment she holds for herself.


    Indeed, while Quinn only knew the woman for less than a fortnight, and didn''t even know her name: she has been following her the entire time and has seen her as nothing but noble, as expected of the Matriarch of the Great Mother''s Temple.


    It seems like forever when she finally replies, but she does: "... I am." In a whisper while looking down, finally embarrassed about the whole affair. "Thank you for listening to me, and accompanying me to the forest again tonight."


    "The pleasure is all mine, Matriarch," Quinn quickly replied as she pulled her hand back, surprised by how truthful her words actually were.


    Or how happy she was when the woman replied, "Believe me, it''s not." With a small and honest smile.

 Chapter 08 - Another Day at the Battlement, Part 02

    Ana doesn''t quite understand why Quinn follows her alone. She certainly has some ulterior motives, with the ways her eyes are searching, and her inquiry seems to always point slowly but surely towards the personal.


    Yet, even after spending time with her for nearly three weeks now, Ana still couldn''t figure out her reasoning beside the woman''s clear interest in her. Which almost forces her to admit that maybe that''s simply the case.


    Until an obvious question hit her: "Why do you want to murder Duke Holloway, Ms. Quinn?"


    Quinn, who has been helping her prepare the herbs and turning them to proper medicines, "Hm?" Stops her work and gaze straight at her, the query in her eye makes it evident that she doesn''t hear Ana.


    So, she repeats herself. "Duke Holloway. Why do you want him dead, Ms. Quinn?"


    "Ah, that!" she smiles in realization. "Adder tells you nothing beside my desire to murder him, then?"


    Ana shakes her head.


    "Now! That''s a shame. Did he not trust you, Matriarch?"


    "He does," she answers, sure of her words. After all, while the general hasn''t been entirely honest with her, she''s convinced it''s not exactly an issue of confidence with how deferential he''s being to her.


    "I see," Quinn quickly agrees. "Then, I suppose I could share more, then!"


    At that, Ana edges herself a little closer, just in case Quinn whispers again. Much like their time in the forest a week ago, that time when she looks into her eyes and notes a verdant green not poisonous, but a thriving woodland in the spring.


    Almost every night now she thinks about that night, questioning why she''s so comfortable recounting a secret she told no living souls to somebody she only knew for less than a month. Someone currently smiling widely on the topic of killing another with reason as flimsy as: "Because he''s in my way."


    "To what, Ms. Quinn?" Ana prods further.


    "To your favor, Matriarch."


    "I do not favor murderers."


    "Not one with the wrong cause."


    "Are you claiming yours to be just, Ms. Quinn?"


    "I do." Her tone grave. "A person must always fulfill their promises, Matriarch; no matter what." Her gaze''s heavy, daring a rebuke. Ana offers nothing but a nod, "I see." Lifting them both from the thick atmosphere with the finality of her words.


    She certainly is curious about what kinds of guarantees Quinn made. After all, her answer made it obvious that the vow wasn''t the death of Duke Holloway; rather something else entirely that may only be tangentially connected to the duke.


    She shivers at the idea of individuals murdered simply due to nothing but their proximity to a more important matter or person. She wonders if that''s what will happen to her, if that''s why Quinn was indeed here, to assassinate the current religious leader of the temple.


    Ana shakes her head violently at such an idea. Not just because she refuses to die before she finishes her work, not just because she believes its arrogance to suppose someone would kill her for the position she holds, but also because thinking poorly about Quinn makes her feel bad, especially after that night in the wood.


    Every time she remembers it, she can''t help but ponder about how vulnerable they''re being, two strangers in an unnamed forest, in the middle of an armed conflict. Perhaps that''s why they''re so ready to share, because they''re nothing to each other.


    Or maybe, they willingly share their scars to show how much they want to be more than nothing. The same way Ana is still particularly curious about the etching beneath Quinn''s eye, or the manner by which her prosthetic works.


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    As if reading her mind. "Something the matter?" Quinn pipes up with a teasing smile, pulling Ana back to the reality where they both are sitting in her office, looking at each other''s faces, motionless.


    And despite her guts telling her she must be embarrassed, she doesn''t. Instead, she takes Quinn''s question as a chance to finally appeal for permission she has been itching to ask since she first spotted her.


    "May I touch you, Ms. Quinn?" she wondered, as nicely as her voice and affectation allow.


    "Oh, my!" In a mock offense, Quinn mimics the expression of scandalized nobles. "Not satisfied with seeing, you wish to touch me now!" Poorly hiding her pleased smile. "Well! By all means." As she then proceeds to unbuckle her plated leather with practiced accuracy.


    Cutting her off. "I apologize if I''m not coherent enough, but¡ª"


    "Oh, Matriarch! Don''t worry, it''s very clear to me."


    "¡ªI mean the scar under your left eye, Ms. Quinn."


    "... Oh." Her disappointment almost sounds real. "Well, if you must."


    "Thank you, Ms. Quinn." With a nod of gratitude, Ana walks closer to the woman.


    Who still tries to persuade her to do more. "The offer stands, though!"


    Ana can only hope she will never fall for it as they once more find themselves so very near to each other. "I understand," Ana answers, decisively ending the topic for the moment as she slowly reaches out to brush Quinn''s cheek.


    The both of them hold their breath, as if expecting something to happen the instant their skins connect. But time doesn''t stand still, there''s no shift to the situation or reality the second it makes contact.


    Yet, as they release their breath together a flash after Ana makes the tap, the fact that nothing changes makes it seem more significant, grounded in a thing solid. Something that they can not only touch and feel, but¡ª"I did that to myself."¡ªcaresses from Ana makes her react in a way that tempts Ana to do more.


    It takes a lot from her not to follow, to simply trace the scar as she whispers the obvious question: "Why?"


    "For power, to protect me."


    "And all that you hold dear?"


    "And all that I hold dear," Quinn echoes, her smile wide, but not quite reaching her eye that shines with a different luster than mere impish desire.


    "Is it connected to your heart, then?" she continues to prod after repetitively caressing the scar, finally recognizing which deity claims it as a symbol.


    "It is."


    "Eye." Ana traces downward after her question was quickly answered. "Arm." Lingering on her left arm, a prosthetic covered in armor. "Heart." Then, hovering over her chest, so close yet so far away, she gazes; trying to look into it.


    She couldn''t see, of course; nor could she hear the hammering, because the magical heart doesn''t beat: it merely pumps. She understood now why the general trust the woman with assassination, why she succeeds in so many of her schemes: she cheated.


    As if reading her mind: "I do." Quinn pulls her attention back to her face. "Have eye, arm, and heart, I mean." Then, her smile turns a hint more suggestive. "And also! A nice bosom, if that''s what you''re looking at, instead."


    "At your chest, yes; but not because of it, Ms. Quinn," Ana tries to explain, keeping her expression straight.


    "I would be fine if it''s the latter, though." Quinn winks. "Pleased, even!"


    "Noted." Comes the quick reply as Ana takes a step back from Quinn with a bit of reluctance, they still have a task to finish after all.


    With the word job flashing through her mind. "Oh, Ms. Quinn?"


    "Yes?"


    "I was to be attached to you."


    "Well, Matriarch. Depending on where we''re being attached to, not only do I have no protest, I in fact¡ª!"


    "For your mission, the mission."


    "... Ah!" Quinn squeaks out, managing to hide infuse a disappointment that sounds too sincere to be entirely theatrical in nature. "Well, I''m glad if that''s the case! Having such a reliable woman by my side, watching my back? What. Could. Go. Wrong?"


    A whole host of things to Ana. But she doesn''t comment, choosing to end their conversation in a question that''s tempting Fate for a reprimand. Finally, they return their focus to their duty, quickly finishing it before delivering the freshly pounded herbs¡ªsome into a paste and others to dust¡ªto the sick bay to help the soldiery once more.


    During the trip, the silence of their journey and the monotony of their job, Ana spent more time thinking on the fact that she will be operating independently of the people she''s supposed to lead, guarding the back of an almost friend.


    Nobody forced her, certainly. General Adder has no power over the temple''s officials, especially not to give them orders. But Ana saw no reason to deny the man. After all, he''s not asking her to kill another for him, just to watch the back of those who will, something she and her detachment already done.


    With that grim thought in mind, she spent the rest of her evening performing her duty. With the wintertime soon approaching, the skirmishes are getting rarer and rarer, all sides understand that they must conserve resources to survive the cruelty of white.


    And Ana attempts to help achieve that for her side in some small ways. Firstly, by gathering the seasonal herbs before the cold wiped them out completely. And secondly, by trying her best to make sure there''s no one left sick in the medical tent when the winter arrives.


    The job she performs tirelessly, with Quinn now accompanying her, until the both of them finally have news of their last engagement to make before winter truly sets in.


    To the duke''s last holdout, they march.

 Chapter 09 - The Water Snake

    Quinn seldom dreams. However, tonight she does. Not of the past, nor of the present, but of the days to come. How she knew that it was the future was beyond her, yet she rarely doubts her guts, for it never led her astray.


    She understands that what she beholds is the future, what she doesn''t find is how far she was in the future, or why she''s even thinking about such a thing when her death was so near; a mere sunlight away from her.


    That prospect brings a smile to her face until she looks up and notices the night sky, adorned by stars as if it were a noble''s dress. And though they''re indeed beautiful, she can''t help but gaze at the full moon, seemingly closer and bigger than she has seen before.


    As if she could simply touch it if she reaches out, so she does, and so she did.


    And the moon is as she expects it: coarse, harsh, and colorless. But also... warm and soft, she thinks. The last word she lets out practically involuntary inside her mind, clearly not anticipating that kind of description of a celestial body from herself.


    It almost saddens her when she realizes her time will shortly be up; that her rigid structure of life will soon cause their separation. The very same training that allows her to recognize this vision to be a dream are the ones that now will take her away from it, no matter how much she wanted to stay.


    "Well!" She pulls away, reluctantly. "I do apologize for touching you so intimately, beautiful celestial body, you!" At her own words, her smile widens. "Though, considering you''re a figment of my imagination; a fracture of my uniquely broken mind, I''m sure you understand well the reason, the why."


    And it does, even when it can''t reply¡ªfor it has no mouth¡ªQuinn can picture it nodding with empathy, forgiveness rather; Quinn bows her head with solemn respect as she''s finally roused to wakefulness, just half an hour before sunrise.


    The march of an army is long, arduous, and utterly boring. All words she likes beside the last one, so she finds herself preparing some cards and books to be read during the small campaign she''s to be involved with, alongside all the equipment that will be beneficial to have in the field.


    But she doesn''t get ready yet.


    This close to winter, the weather is naturally cold; pushing Quinn to take a bath much later than usual in the morning, and rarely in the night. Which is why she''s trying to minimize her movement, something she can no longer do.


    The former and the latter both are because she will be on the road soon. With that in mind, she makes her way to the communal bath after removing off her prosthetics, forcing her to utilize a cane as a means of transporting herself.


    She gets some curious look, but not as numerous as the first time they see her so defenseless. She doesn''t mind either. She''s used to garnering attention for any reason, familiars to people assuming she''s vulnerable. Let them think so, lest they pay too much heed to the unnatural things embedded beneath her skin, sometimes as deep as the center of her bones.


    She, of course, could avoid that sort of physical alteration, and this kind of interest if she just enchants her artificial limb with some anti-rust charms. But she likes body modifications, and taking care of her prosthetics has always managed to calm down her nerves.


    So, her she is, without her left limbs or eye, walking into the pretty active communal bathhouse. It''s in fact almost full. Most of the large stone and wood bathtubs are occupied by the priests, clerics, and paladin that will march with the soldiers, only one of them has space for Quinn.


    And as luck would have it, the resident is none other than the woman she lo¡ªlikes.


    Putting on the most charming smile she has, Quinn approaches the woman with gracefulness one wouldn''t anticipate of a cane user in a slippery surface, the rapping of it against the bathroom tiles are the only sound as it slowly falls into a hush with each step Quinn takes.


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    "Matriarch!" Quinn greets. "How are you this fine morning?" The cheer in her voice isn''t forced nor fake.


    The Matriarch, who has been closing her eyes the entire time, open them to meet Quinn with an almost bored look until she perceives Quinn in fullness, on the way her body are lacking the things the Matriarch has come to expect.


    As if reading her mind. "My prosthetics will get rusty if I bring them to bath." Quinn answers the question not yet asked, the Matriarch only nodded at her reply.


    "I see. Why have you approached me here, Ms. Quinn? Something urgent and important you need?"


    There''s no hostility to her tone, only an honest curiosity that causes an amused smile to bloom on Quinn''s face. "I would like to join you! If you don''t mind, that is."


    Upon hearing her words, the Matriarch''s expression turns into a grimace, almost, as she once again studies Quinn before quickly peeling her eyes away to look at the other baths, taking notes of their occupancy that Quinn previously does before she decides to approach the Matriarch.


    After such an observation, the Matriarch already knew the why of Quinn seeking to join her; seeing as it was indeed the only place with open space for a few more people to enter.


    It wasn''t that that give her pause, then. Rather¡ªQuinn sure¡ªwhat gives her pause is the reality that for two individuals to inhabit the same baths, even in a communal one, is quite an intimate proposition and situation.


    And while Quinn certainly has no trouble to such a thing¡ªshe holds the extreme opposite position, in fact¡ªshe still has no desire to make the Matriarch become genuinely comfortable with her.


    So, she kindly tries to suggest a solution: "I can try to ask for someone to accompany us, a neutral party to make sure nothing untowardly happens."


    The Matriarch, who has been silently gazing down and thinking the entire time, eventually looks back up to Quinn, studying her for some unknown reason before finally: "There''s no need for that, Ms. Quinn," she assents. "Please, join me." Moving over and changing her position to take up less space.


    Obviously hoping¡ªbut not attempting to force this result¡ªQuinn is sincerely surprised at the Matriarch''s acceptance, something she''s more than glad to oblige as she climbs into the bath, its water enchanted to be warm, yet not enough to battle the cold of late autumn.


    For a few minutes, they simply sit there in reserve, enjoying the water and scrubbing themselves. It was only after Quinn clean her hair does she begins a conversation, unable to take another second of silence.


    "Matriarch?"


    "Yes?"


    "You''ll accompany deep behind the enemy line, then, yes?"


    "I shall. I won''t leave you to die, Ms. Quinn. By the land and sky, I promise you."


    "Do you have any way to disguise yourself or make yourself become invisible?"


    "I do have the latter."


    "Good! Then, I will be in your care."


    "And I am in yours."


    At that, their conversation stops, and not just because of the finality of the Matriarch''s words. But also, because Quinn almost trusts the woman to take care of her, a thought that terrifies her to no end.


    Something that occupies her mind even as the soldiery began its march into the last castle Duke Holloway manage to hold; a two-week journey from the encampment with this large of a host.


    Those two weeks she spent talking to the Matriarch of stratagems, but no more, spooked by her own ideas and feeling still.


    The day of her mission, Quinn can fill the woman eyes boring holes into her, asking questions whose answers are obvious to Quinn, but says nothing else as they pause for their signal.


    They''re not to march with the soldiery. Rather, the both of them are waiting for the sign of Duke Holloway appearance before they make their move of murdering him when he emerges upon the field to boost the morale of his combatants.


    Unfortunately, the holdup for such a thing is long, and the whole time the Matriarch is staring into Quinn still, as if hoping Quinn would do something the entire hour.


    It was only after the obvious¡ªthat Quinn wouldn''t budge from her silence¡ªthat the Matriarch chose to finally start a topic.


    "Have I done or said something that give offense, Ms. Quinn?"


    "What? No!" Quinn quickly responds. "Please, Matriarch! You have granted me nothing but the opposite."


    "Then why the sudden change in attitude?"


    "I¡ª!" Quinn cuts herself off, refusing to admit that she was afraid of trusting another soul. So, instead of doing that. "Matriarch." She changes the topic. "If I survive this, will you tell me your name?"


    "And you shall tell me of your true aim?" the Matriarch replies with a question of her own, something that catches Quinn off guard, causing her to snort.


    "Sure!" she answers, and the Matriarch nods, agreeing.


    "Want to put it in blood, Matriarch?" Quinn extends a hand as she pulls out her ritual knife and cut her palm open, her intent obvious. But the Matriarch¡ªas expected of her¡ªdoesn''t back down.


    She takes the blade from Quinn''s hand and do the same to her hand before shaking Quinn''s in a handshake that was firm and confident.


    "I promise you my true aim, by the stars and sea, I shall not lie."


    "I promise you my name, by the stars and sea, I shall not lie."


    Their pledge spoken in conjunction, intertwine them in magic that remembers.


    They''re connected now, by vows and blood.


    As if waiting exactly for that moment, the signal was given.

 Chapter 10 - The Silver Moon

    With the hood of their cloak raised, the magical effect took place; covering them both in invisibility absolute. Helped by Quinn''s spell and their boots, they become truly undetectable to all that''s too absorbed by the fighting, including the duke.


    Ana eyes the man for a moment, studying his movement, the way he screams order from atop his horse. She supposes it''s an almost wonderful kind of a try, to be an actual leader, but imagines him as no better than her or General Adder. All three of them merely sentence people to death, before they themselves are condemned to it by forces more powerful than themselves.


    In this case, it was Quinn, whose back Ana watches vigilantly to preoccupy her from the grim thought that just pay her a visit. A distracting notion, though observing Quinn''s back isn''t preferable either, it nearly made her wish she doesn''t have the spell that allows her to see through invisibility. Almost.


    She must admit she rather enjoy this, being far from the scream of dying people and in the company of a woman that are about to be her friend. Ana undoubtedly hopes so they can be at least that close, where physical contact is no longer hard or taboo, somebody that views her as an equal and doesn''t rely on her.


    And, if she''s forced to dream even bigger, with a sword against her neck, that she''s certainly more than ready to say that she wishes she and Quinn can become more than friends¡ª"We''re here," the woman that has distracted her in body and mind whispers giddily.


    Such delight at the fact that she''s about to murder another make Ana shivers, in disgust and something else entirely. Ignoring the sensation, she nods as an answer to Quinn, who''s able to see her with specialized glasses instead.


    This is the most dangerous portion, for their target is surrounded by loyal combatants eager to die for him, and Quinn must press past them, revealing her existence by touch alone.


    She tries to make it seem natural, of course; swindling the harsh wind to follow her into the soldiery and makes them believe they''re a part of her. But that illusion doesn''t last forever.


    The duke is no simpleton, Ana can see flashes of recognition in his eyes as two militias near him unwillingly kneel down, Quinn using them as a jumping board, her dagger in hand aiming straight for Duke Holloway''s heart and meeting his broadsword instead, pushing her backwards.


    "I know you''re here, Assassin!" the duke screams. "Reveal yourself!"


    Quinn, whose bracelet was activated now float through the air, not arrogant or fool enough to oblige Duke Holloway request, and the duke understood it, too.


    With a click of a tongue, it speaks in a language foreign and sacred, revealing his intention quickly to Ana who refuse to sit on the sideline idly. She counters the spell, dissipating its arcane energy before it could bend reality to the duke''s advantage.


    He knew now his attacker is at least two individuals, maybe more. "Find their co-conspirators!" he orders as instinct allows her to block yet another blow with the still invisible Quinn who favors Ana with a thankful smile as she''s once again thrown back.


    A smile Ana can''t return in any way, for Duke Holloway has mobilized its personal guards in search of her. Knowing full well she will be unable to fulfill her duty to the fullest if she was to be uncovered, she tries her best to avoid them while still paying attention to the fight.


    As she dances with the bodyguards, Quinn also dances with the duke himself. No, Ana realizes, she''s toying with him. Not only from the way she smiles, but also from the truth that she''s obviously faster than him, her weapon coated in poison that melts old and cold iron.


    If she wanted him dead, she would have it minutes ago, whenever she wished to, in fact. Which raises the question to Ana, chief among them are: why is she toying with him? Cruelty? Some sort of sadism? Is she genuinely that terrible of a woman that¡ª?


    Rooted in place by such a thought, the sentries manage to find her. By luck, the blunt ends of their spear manage to hit her, not hard enough to leave permanent damage, but sufficient to squeak her voice alone.


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    The guards pursue her based on sound alone, something that wouldn''t be enough for an individual; an entirely different story for a dozen of them. Each with halberd in hand, quick to stab and slice.


    Ana ready herself, this will be the third time in her life she has to face an armed group of people all alone¡ª"Matriarch!"¡ªor not.


    Quinn reveals her own location by screaming after her, making the same mistake Ana make. Involuntary, too, by the flash of regret on her visage shortly after. Again, the sound was taken advantage of.


    "There you are!" Duke Holloway slices in a downward arc in the direction of Quinn''s voice with a strong enough force not only to bend her to her knee, but to also causes the hood of her cloak to fall, dispelling the magic that protects her.


    Scarlet red colors the ground, but there''s more noise from Quinn. She shoots a quick smile towards Ana before she finally threw her dagger to the duke, aimed straight at his heart.


    And without fail, in an explosion of movement, she follows her dagger close to the duke who struggles to give a fast enough response.


    The guards that''s just a moment ago about to be upon her, return her attention to the duke¡ªand by extension, Quinn¡ªattempting to stop the woman from murdering their leader, but Ana knew there''s no intercepting it.


    The next instant, red once more graces the ground, fertilizing it. It came from the heart of the man whose armor was melted by poison and body were pierced by a dagger.


    "You fucking dog...," he curses while whining from the pain.


    "I''m no dog, Holloway," the woman answers, proudly. "I''m a snake." As she plunges another dagger to Duke Holloway''s throat, decisively ending the fight, but not the battle.


    That part is entirely dependent by their own forces capitalizing on the demoralized enemy after Quinn screamed: "Duke Holloway is dead!" At the top of her lungs, an arrogant smile adorns her face now as she jumps off the body.


    Ana almost felt happy for her¡ªwith her¡ªuntil she catches a glimpse of clarity from the duke''s eyes. Not only was that man not yet lost, but he''s still orchestrating something. Something righteous, yet foul and cruel at the same time¡ªa curse.


    As soon as realization strikes her, Ana stops herself from screaming her warning to Quinn, not wishing to repeat the identical mistake as she instead chose to rush the woman who simply stands still as Duke Holloway''s personal guards approaches, obviously has another plan in mind.


    Whatever it was, Ana never gets to see it, for Quinn never got the chance to use it. Before anyone could reach her, the duke utilizes the last of his strength to attack Quinn from behind, straight at her heart; a fair and ironic vengeance.


    With a spell, Ana teleports to catch the woman before she hits the ground and gets a concussion. And again, she teleports them both away when the soldiery is almost upon them.


    Now, the sound of the battle is far more distant, though it can still be heard if one tries hard enough. Ana doesn''t. She focuses all her attention towards the woman in her lap instead, looking up at her with a smile still, glorious and prideful, but also pained.


    "I am... glad!" Quinn forces the statement out, "That you''re the last sight I see, Matriarch."


    "I won''t be the last sight you see, Ms. Quinn, I promised you."


    "Some promises... just...! Can''t! Be! Kept!" Each word is almost like a cough, agonizing.


    "All of mine can," Ana reassures her as she studies her body, trying to find a clue as to what kind of curse has been inflicted upon her. And what she quickly discovered as she persists in making small talk with Quinn to maintain her conscious aren''t heartening.


    All of her prosthetics are losing power, which can only mean one thing.


    "Your heart," Ana mutters in horror, putting her hand on Quinn''s left chest.


    "Ha! Yeah..., my heart," Quinn replied, an amused smile plays on her face.


    Ana doesn''t respond to the smile, the gear inside her mind turning and turning, searching for any kind of solution to this problem. She doesn''t want Quinn to die, and not just because she already promises her safety.


    Yet, no remedy offers itself clearly to her. The ritual it would require to replace a power source gifted by a deity would need days, sometimes weeks of preparation. And resurrection is rarely successful, even if all of the specifications have been fulfilled.


    But surely, there must be something, anything at all that¡ª"May I know your name now, Matriarch?" As if noticing Ana''s frantic worry, Quinn''s voice cuts her off.


    The smirk on her lips is honest and kind now, almost playful, as if she''s not dying.


    Ana gazes this woman on the eye, then; trying to gather the strength to tell her that she can''t save her, unable to help her, but can realize a promise made not two hours ago.


    "My name is Ana Monte," she reveals with a furtive and sad smile. "And I...." She spies a look of horror on Quinn''s face and nearly ask her what''s the matter when answer finally came upon her.


    She takes out her dagger and hovers it over her own chest, where her heart beat still. And with another hand above Quinn''s bosom, she repeats herself.


    "My name is Ana Monte." Her expression''s serious. "The current Matriarch of the Temple of the Great Mother, and leader of the Chapter of the Holy Fire." Her voice''s grim and severe. "And I won''t let you die today, Ms. Quinn." As she plunges the knife deep into her ribs.

 Chapter 11 - A Matter of the Heart

    Plunging the knife deep into herself, Ana prays to the powers that be, to all the deities that rule over creation to grant her strength, to bear witness to her sacrifice for the brave woman in her lap.


    Her mouth moves fast, speaking the familiar mantra from the sacred tongue she has learned since young. Each of them a plea, begging the very world to bend and see.


    She wanted to cry every time the thought of catastrophe enters her mind, but refuses herself the emotion, crushing it alongside the idea that causes it. I won''t fail; she insists to herself.


    Quinn tries to stop her, to get her to do nothing to let her go. However, Ana is unwilling and unable to do so, not when she''s sure this course of action will save Quinn from certain doom.


    So, she persists, ignoring the woman''s hand no matter how tempted she was to reach out and comfort her. But unchanging still, Quinn keeps calling to Ana, forcing their eyes to meet once again.


    And Ana can''t bear the sadness in her orb, an acceptance and gratefulness that reflect nothings but one thing to her: Quinn means to give up, and she wanted Ana to do the same. But why? Ana can''t help but ask as she continues to repeat the prayer, though she already loses some of her conviction.


    She never knew the woman to be the one to give up before, the rumors about her and what Ana has personally observed so far certainly signals to the extreme opposite of said reality.


    Yet, here she is. Laying on her lap, tired and defeated; prepared to move on. And if she''s ready, then surely: Ana should let her go, even when she doesn''t want to. At any rate, why does my opinion matter? Again, she asked herself. I''m nothing to her. And the quick answers cause her naught but pain in her chest, drawing her attention there to see¡ªa miracle¡ªa blinding light, brilliant and warm, though not oppressive like the sun.


    It was a sign that the Great Mother listen and is keen to grant her wish, so long as she''s willing to finish what she has started. With that thought in mind, Ana regains her will, and have them redoubled by the radiance.


    The sentence she belabors over and over burns her throat with non-existence smoke now, cooking her tongue in fire imaginary. Her jaw''s hurting, begging for her to stop, the glimmer in her breast disappears with each reiteration of the prayer.


    She knows what will happen to her when she finishes, yet it doesn''t halt her. The possibility for a permanent consequence to her body and mind doesn''t cause her to falter, the opposite of it, in fact.


    The valor she held in her soul grew greater and greater until finally, in a supernova, it explodes, leaving none but crater and rubble in the space where her heart should be, and darkness where the light once was.


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    Quinn stands, she fell.


    And Quinn catches her savior, their place reversed now. The revelation causes her nothing but immense distress and turmoil, begging the deities above for anything except the truth that the Matriarch¡ªAna just shown her.


    She would much prefer whatever else, any other certainty but this. She watches the woman chest rises slowly, calmly, as if the sleep she''s having are not triggered by significant injury and exhaustion.


    There''s nobody around them, and even if there was; the sound of the battle nearby will be more than enough to serve as a distraction. Here she is, the person she was sent to kill by her client, defenseless and weak.


    All she needs to do is take out the small dagger hidden in her boots and slice her neck, and she shall have the friendship of a malleable crown prince who will owe her a favor beside.


    Just imagining what she can do with that kind of power, that sort of influence to a burgeoning kingdom that just survives a civil war, causes a little impish smile to play on her lips.


    The only thing required to be done, the one obstacle between her and that amazing of a prize is the Matriarch, Ana Monte. Which means, there''s only one matter left to be done by her.


    With speed, she pulls out the small dagger and hovers it over the woman''s neck, aiming it carefully to the place she knew will generate the most bleeding. She won''t even suffer for that long, a few seconds at most.


    When the thought occurs to her. "I apologize, Matriarch." Quinn creases her brow. "You don''t deserve to suffer at all," As she slowly, kindly, reluctantly, raises the blade then plunges it down.


    A beat stops her dagger, a hairbreadth away from Ana''s nape. She''s familiar with the noise, it was the sound of a heart scared and helpless. An innocent perhaps, watching her about to commit the act.


    Unwilling to let anyone know of this crime of her, she looks over the area carefully, studying each branch and bushes with suspicion and straining her ears to its limit, trying to uncover the source.


    But there''s no one around, only Ana and her.


    It''s her heart that''s beating that fast, that frightened. Why? She grimaces, finding now answers. Hesitantly, she confirms the hypothesis by touching her own chest, ruling the theory true.


    Not only that, but her cheek''s wet; her breathing''s shallow, fast, and uncontrolled. Emotions she so carefully conceal and diligently employs now run amok, seeking revenge by destroying her faculties and capabilities at making rational decisions.


    She grits her teeth, trying to win a war that she already lost inside her head by forcefully pushing the dagger down using her prostheses, but her real hand refuses to budge, not allowing the blade to move an inch closer to her savior.


    In frustration, she screams and threw the dagger away, planting it deep into a tree trunk as she sighs, giving up.


    Losing all her will for bloodshed, Quinn smiles turn wry and almost sheepish as she looks at Ana''s face. "You will be okay, Matriarch. I won''t harm you, not now, not¡ª"¡ªever. She stops herself before she says it.


    "Not now," she repeats as she pulls the dagger free from between her ribs. "Pinky promise." And heals her with what little knowledge of medicine and spell she has in her repertoire.


    Only after she''s sure the Matriarch wouldn''t die on her as she carries her body back to the encampment does she rise. "Now!" Bringing Ana with her in a princess carry. "Let''s go home." With an almost sincere smile adorning her face.

 Chapter 12 - Repaid Debt

    When Quinn arrives, the body of soldiery that has reaped the chaos she has sown hasn''t yet return, no doubt busy claiming the spoils of war before their superiors could stop them from such a behavior.


    It''s not that the camp is empty, of course. There are always people there, the high command and their guards alongside a small number of medical professionals, mundane and magical both.


    It was them that she seeks out the instant she sets foot inside the battlement, and it doesn''t take them long to move into action the moment they see who''s the patient in need of their help.


    As they work, Quinn communicates to them what she has done for her and to herself; and what Quinn has attempted to do for her in return. The words flow through her methodically and careful with a small polite smile adorning her face.


    A small polite smile that slowly grew dark with each word she speaks, following the expressions of the medical professionals that turn even gloomier than her.


    At the end of her explanation and their examination, they lay the Matriarch¡ªAna down into one of the empty beds and assures Quinn they will try their best, but nothing else.


    They promise it to her with such a concerned and sympathetic looks on their face, it almost makes Quinn think that they mistake her worry for an even greater feeling that she''s certain she no longer wants to hold for anything but herself.


    However, as they go away; she can''t follow. Her foot is rooted firmly in place, forcing her to get a chair and sit down besides the Matri¡ªAna''s bed. She doesn''t quite know why she did it. After all, she can''t bed the woman now. Doing so with the target of your assassination will complicate the situation, and leaves behind a genetic material easily traceable back to the perpetrator.


    So, why am I here? Because I love her? She scoffs at the question, refusing to entertain it. She knew of love, she has experienced them twice.


    The first was familial, and she betrayed them.


    The second was romantic, and they betrayed her.


    And she won''t just be a clown if she falls for it the third time, but an entire gaggle of fools, a circus of them. Imagining herself in the jester costume brings a derisive smile to her face, lighting it up until she catches sight of Ana''s condition.


    Her wounds have been appropriately dressed and covered, and they have administered all the tinctures, potions, and spells they assume could help her recover. But still, they''re not optimistic she will recuperate.


    Neither does Quinn.


    The entire walk here has granted her enough period to think, and she believes that whatever it was that Ana has done, can be boiled down to her giving her life and heart to Quinn, an acquaintance she has only known for a bit more than a month.


    Someone who hides her dagger in the shadow, the butcher sent to kill her; now in her debt forever. Again, she sighs. Her brain working overtime trying to find a solution to a problem caused by her own recklessness.


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    She does a lot of things by instincts when she''s near the woman, and she paid the terrible price for it. If only she didn''t worry about Ana''s wellbeing during her assassination attempt, then she will succeed at the cost of Ana being possibly injured.


    Obvious to her then and now, of course, that that''s exactly why she''s going off script during the fight. She doesn''t want Ana to get hurt, she despises the idea.


    She hates it so much that when her brain focuses on it, she finds the strength to move again, standing up in a sudden realization. A solution to both her distaste at the woman''s helplessness and her debt to said woman.


    I simply need to cure her, she thinks, her smile''s light and confident.


    With that in her mind, she dashes off. "I will be back in three days!" Promising her return to the medics and guards that only give her a quizzical look.


    Quinn grants them no answer, she likes to keep this one a secret, because she knew how rare and prized the herb she seeks.


    It was a plant that withers at the touch of the first snow, but survives until then. They grew sparingly and camouflage themselves as a simple blade of grass, unassuming until you step onto it.


    Which is why she''s being careful with her footwork, watching every action she makes to ensure she doesn''t accidentally get cursed with death and suffering again after a woman dear and near to her heart just sacrifice herself for that exact reason.


    Considering how cautious she was being, it was pure luck that she spotted them the morning of the second day away from the now moving body of soldiery, deprived of proper sleep, bath, and food.


    "Hello!" she greets her finding, the unassuming patch of grass. When there''s no reply. "I know you''re in there!" She tries again, with their mother''s tongue this time.


    And finally. "What?! Oh. It''s you. What do you want?" A little fairy flies out from the blade of grass to address her with a face sour and uninterested.


    Undeterred and used to it. "Why, Mr. Fae!" Quinn answers come easily. "Your home!"


    "Why would I give you my home!?"


    To that question, Quinn beams a winning smile of a merchant as she pulls out a small bottle stoppered shut. Inside the bottle, something shines bright and warm, like the morning sun.


    "For I shall give you a second chance for a rainy day, bottled up and ready to go."


    She presents the bottle and its content to the fairy that looks at it with disbelief in his eyes. Quinn understands why, of course. A second chance is a very rare thing to trade away, and to get it only for the price of your home is a robbery to whoever it''s that makes the offer.


    So, after a brief amount of time. "Fine!" The fairy agrees. "Take the home! Just give me that!" And attempt to snatch the bottle away from Quinn.


    "Ah, ah, ah!" Quinn evades him and wags her finger. "The home first, Mr. Fairy!"


    The fairy grumbles but obliges. Quinn releases the bottle then, allowing the fairy to go wherever he wants with it. She doesn''t care; she already has her prize.


    With haste, she finds her way back to the soldiers. The rare times she''s glad that armies always leave behind them the excrement of their beast of burden and rotten food and herbs.


    Because if not for them, she wouldn''t be able to come back on the third day and presents the herb to the camp''s only apothecary, who knew exactly what he''s supposed to do with it once Quinn tells him the name.


    Working together with him, they made a remedy that can cure almost anything but certain death; both hoping that wasn''t Ana''s fate.


    When they''re done, Quinn gave him a quick thanks before she rushes back to Ana''s side, finding her worse than the last time she left her.


    Praying to the deities she has no love for, Quinn puts the pill to Ana''s mouth and forces her to swallow it, more than willing to bear the consequences of that action later, when Ana woke up.


    But for now, there''s nothing else she can do but wait.


    So, she waits.


    Beside Ana''s bed she sits, her hand¡ªthe real one¡ªclose to but not touching the woman''s hand. The thought of her mission, of what she''s supposed to do after this, filled with her mind.


    Under her breath, she repeatedly whispers to herself: "It''s okay, she''ll be okay. It''s okay, she''ll be okay." Her hand creeping ever so slowly nearer to Ana''s hand each time.


    Until finally, the moment it made contact.


    Ana woke up.

 Chapter 13 - Dreaming Reality

    Ana doesn''t regret a thing. She has fulfilled her duty to the best of her ability, with respect to everyone else in expectation of her. There''s nothing that waits her after such a decision beside the calm chaos, the return to the Great Mother.


    However, Ana finds not the peace of the Goddess Mother of the World, but a lull of a different kind. Surrounding her is a forest verdant green and shining under the morning sun.


    The mist that covered it was gently lifted by the soothing spring wind. The animals announce their presence to each other, some just returning to their nest while others are about to leave it.


    She couldn''t deny that such a sight did induce sedateness upon herself, but not enough to subdue the confusion she feels. Because surely, she must be dead now; and the dead doesn''t dream, and gains no rewards but the embrace of the void.


    So, for her to be here; there''s either a mistake on her teaching, or she''s still alive and dreaming. She likes for it to be the latter, because if her teaching was wrong, that she has wasted a lot of time and opportunities for nothing except lies.


    As if sensing such a thought from her, a creature bumps to her bare feet, causing her no alarm until she sees what just touched her.


    A bicolored serpent¡ªblack on top and green on the bottom¡ªwith a paddle tail. When she notices the tail, she took a step back and subdue the reptile from another position. An easy task considering her new friend isn''t adapted to an existence on land.


    In fact, she''s very far from the sea that is her habitat, which explains why the animal collides into her in the first place.


    "Why are you here, little snake?" she asked, mostly to herself. "How far away are you from home?" Trying her best to soothe the wildlife that''s now circling her arm tight with her body.


    The serpent obviously is unable to answer Ana, but she does settle after a few brushes of her hands, allowing Ana to handle it even more carefully as she places her to the ground, hoping she behaves as expected and doesn''t attack her on sight.


    She doesn''t, bringing genuine joy to Ana''s heart as she reaches out and pats the reptile on the head. She never went to the ocean before, but she''s always curious about their denizens, especially a beautiful predator like this one, who''s so calm under her touch.


    As she pets her new friend, she considers why she''s here, because it was certainly not a reward. And if it wasn''t a reward, then it was a punishment, for a wrongdoing she so recently committed.


    The Great Mother doesn''t approve of her sacrificing her life to help Quinn, which is why She places her soul here instead of returning to her. Ana has been denied entry for her decision.


    That angers her, almost causes her to lash out at the snake until she takes hold of herself in the last moment. It wasn''t the reptile''s fault, nor is it Quinn''s. All blame, as usual, lays on her feet.


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    Quinn doesn''t actually want the healing, obviously begging Ana not to do it. But, her pigheadedness did her in, egging her on to continue even when the person she desires to save have no love for her action.


    She should have known, but it''s too late now.


    So, with a sigh, she stands up and offer a hand for the snake to climb. "Would you like to accompany me?" she asked.


    Answering her, the reptile hikes up her arm, beginning their journey on the land of her punishment together.


    Not many changes for Ana on the first day but the lack of a bath. Though, when she ate at the end of the day, the serpent refuses to join her, although Ana has made sure fish eggs and small fishes are present on the table.


    Knowing full well it was a bad an idea to push an animal to feed, Ana gave up after the fifth try.


    On the second day, she finally completes her routine with a bath from a secluded pond in the middle of the forest, occupied by a variety of fresh water fishes. With the snake looking worse than when she first found her due to malnutrition, Ana had hoped the reason she doesn''t eat yesterday was because the reptile despises magical nourishment, and would much prefer a natural one.


    Accompanied by such a hope, she convinces a fish to be voluntarily consumed by the serpent, who yet again deny the food. Ana was distressed now, as when the third day came, the snake does nothing but sleep around her neck, clearly drained and hungry.


    Wishing that she''s wrong about the reptile''s species and it was a land animal instead, she tries afresh: this time persuading a rabbit to be willingly devoured by the serpent. It was a harder work than the fishes, and once again she succeeded, and once more the snake refuses food.


    As the night fall, there''s naught she can do but watch as the green-bellied reptile slowly wither in her arms. If only she remembers her duty to all living beings, if she doesn''t squander her soul on a murderer, an architect of human suffering unrepentant, then she could''ve saved the snake.


    She should learn that for the next time, but there''s no next time.


    Not for her, or the serpent.


    With that in mind, she holds the reptile close, giving her as much warmth and comfort that she can afford.


    And as tears began to travel down her cheek, a familiar voice whispers behind her: "It''s okay, she''ll be okay."


    Causing her to turn back and find nothing but the giant tree she has used as her temporary home for the last three days.


    "Ms. Quinn?" she called out, unwilling to believe that sound was just a figment of her imagination.


    As if responding to it, the snake circles her hand, squeezing it tight, waking her up.


    "I''m here, Matriarch," she hears the same voice answers, drawing her attention directly to a small and open smile on the person she so readily died for.


    "You''re alive." Is all she could say, unprepared to assume her own success.


    "And so are you, Matriarch," the woman reply, her grin widens and turns into a breathy laugh.


    Hearing herself called Matriarch still even after she told Quinn her real name displeases her. So, much like everyone else who has called her as such: "Please, Ana is fine, Ms. Quinn." She attempts to correct her, gently.


    Yet, she responds rather peculiarly when she winces at the mention of Ana''s name like it hurts her. "Of course, Ana." Although she''s most ready to use it compared to many other Ana has spoken to.


    Sure that Quinn would just distract her if she were to draw attention to her reaction to the request, Ana chose a topic that''s safe and will be answered straightforwardly by the other party instead.


    "Are you willing to tell me of your true aim now?" she broached the subject directly, not one to beat around the bush.


    There''s no strange reaction from Quinn but a flash of a sad smile replaced by an amused smirk, so clearly exaggerated. "Of course!" she nods. "It''s you, Ana." Easily revealing her secret. "You''re my charge."

 Chapter 14 - Sing Song of Tomorrow

    Quinn tries to her best to maintain her smile, yet she could feel them slowly cracking under the pressure of the heavy silence that now occupies the air. She has chosen her words carefully, but the Matriarch¡ªAna¡ªare no fool either.


    She knows enough regarding Quinn to make the inference, to reach the correct conclusion about the true reason behind the vagueness of her language, the venality that influences her speech and actions.


    Confirming Quinn''s worst nightmares, then: "Are you here to kill me now?" Ana asks, her voice low in a whisper as she no longer looks Quinn in the eye, but on the daggers that''s hanging upon her belt.


    Instead of thinking, her mind went blank, filled only with one word echoing forever and eternal: alone. She can either lie, escape, or answers the question in the affirmative by moving in.


    "Ms. Quinn?" Ana''s voice pulls her back to reality before she can choose, forcing her to gaze upon the face of the woman she''ll kill, her dull blue orbs shining still despite the lack of light in the tent.


    Her chest''s glowing in Quinn''s eye, far brighter than the radiance she sees on it in the forest. It was warm, but definitely not the morning sun; for it burns away the rust in her weary and sleepless mind, allowing it to fully process the Matriarch''s question.


    It was during that task does Quinn notice an obvious hole offered by the last word of the query. She looks at Ana, wondering if she has done so intentionally and find no answer in her mask of stoicism.


    Taking a deep breath, Quinn reminds herself not to look a gift horse in the mouth before finally: "No," she replies in one word. Preparing the next sentence as a deflection, a distraction to another topic. "I''m here because.... I¡ª" The words catch in her throat, realizing what she''s about to say is too personal.


    Recognizing this, Ana speaks nothing but squeezing her hand, still intertwined with hers. Patiently, she waits for Quinn to continue or pulls away her hand.


    She does the former. "I''m here because I¡ªI''m afraid, Ana." But not the latter, she lets their hand be connected still when she uttered her reason, and it''s not even a lie or half-truth.


    Tired from it, she hangs her head low, chuckling grimly to herself more than anything.


    For while she manages to get what she wanted. "Afraid of what, Ms. Quinn?" She would much prefer telling Ana right there and then that she was indeed her assassin, instead of having her pursue this topic further.


    Still, to do that would endanger her and her mission, so she stays the course.


    "Because! I thought my savior is going to die." Forcefully injecting cheer into her sentence despite the fact that she whispered her last words with a smile fake and joyless.


    "Why would you care about me, Ms. Quinn?" Ana questions, brows furrowed. The kind of expression that can''t help but make Quinn do the same.


    Deprived of rest, with tiredness aching from every bone of her body, and worry still filling her heart. "Do you think me cruel and unfeeling, Ana?" Quinn words tumble off cold and insulted. "Do you imagine me a monster who knows nothing but to take advantage of others? A parasite? A leech in the swamp?" Bitter and poisonous.


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    "I¡ª"


    "Of course I would care about you!" she admits candidly. "I¡ªyou''re my savior, Ana!" Only catching herself when she notices that she stands tall now, her shadow falls deep into Ana who no longer hold her hand.


    Regrets fill her quick as she sits back down in shame. "I apologize, Ana." Rubbing her own knuckle, hoping it will calm her. "I don''t mean to scream at you."


    "Is that the only reason you care about me, Ms. Quinn?"


    "... no." Quinn easily admits, sinking deeper into her seat, too tired to attempt to find a half-truth to speak of.


    Watching Quinn''s figure growing smaller and smaller. "Then all is forgiven, Ms. Quinn." Ana tries to hearten her with words and an insignificant yet genuine smile, but she doesn''t look up.


    "... thank you," she responds, hollow and defeated.


    Seeing no other options, Ana reaches out. Her hand is hovering above Quinn''s right hand, prompting the woman to stop rubbing her knuckle and finally looks up to find Ana silently asking for permission.


    As expected, it causes Quinn to smirk, a real one. "By all means." As she gave her consent.


    Once more, their hand is entwined, sharing what little warmth they have for each other. With that thought, Ana mimics the movement of Quinn''s left hand, massaging her knuckle as she further studies Quinn.


    Her eye is sunk and shallow, her breathing is almost controlled but heavy still, as if¡ª"How long has it been since you last have a proper rest, Ms. Quinn?"


    Quinn snort at that, clearly expecting the question. "Four days ago, perhaps?"


    And while Ana questions cause Quinn''s grin to grow wider, her answer make Ana frown instead, wishing to interrogate her further about the reason she has deprived herself of repose so.


    But when her eyes catch the sights of Quinn again, she swallows the inquiry and curiosity. "Do you want me to sing you to slumber, Ms. Quinn?" And chose to proffer help instead.


    "Oh?" Quinn raises her eyebrows in disbelief. "You will sing me to sleep here?"


    "Yes."


    "And you are... serious? You''re serious, yes?"


    "Yes."


    "I would be honored to!" Quinn declares proudly, threatening to wake up the other patient, forcing Ana to reprimand her with a look. "Apologies, Matriarch. I''m just too happy about the offer," she answers with an almost sheepish grin.


    Ana sighs and moves to the side, giving Quinn enough space to lay her head upon the bed as Ana begun to sing. Her voice wasn''t usually soothing, not suited to singing a lullaby.


    So instead, she chooses a folk song, an old story about forbidden love and the sacrifice it requires before it became true. Every word she injects with magic not to hypnotize, but to calm people down.


    She pulls her hand away from Quinn with regret when she notices the woman was half asleep, allowing her to use both of her arms as a cushion for Ana can offer none.


    Now having each hand free, she endeavors to utilize one of them for Quinn''s comfort once again. Slow and kind¡ªalmost to the tune of her own music¡ªdoes Ana brush her hair, hoping it will help.


    It most likely does, seeing how quick Quinn fell asleep after it.


    With her mouth and either eye shut, the woman looks harmless now. The usual jagged, sharp, and exaggerated smile that adorns her face are gone, replaced by the tranquility of a peaceful rest.


    Quinn doesn''t lie to her at all during their conversation today. Ana would be willing to admit it was perhaps because she gave the woman an obvious escape once or twice, but the moment Quinn voluntarily broach the subject of being afraid, there''s nothing except truths that drips from her tongue.


    Truths that if Ana have to guess, she''s afraid of, by the way she seems so candid and defenseless, with no calculation before each sentence like how their usual interaction goes.


    Ana love that Quinn, wanted to see more of her.


    After all, she''s right. She was no parasite, no leech on society; not unfeeling, though Ana believes she can still argue about the cruel descriptor. And if she was right about all that but one, perhaps she was also right to care about Ana.


    She can only hope it last.

 Chapter 15 - A Conversation in the Snow

    When she woke, the Matriarch¡ªAna¡ªwas no longer beside her. But she can still smell her lingering. The note of citrus attracting her like a fresh summer drink. She sighs at that image in her mind. A cold beverage is the last thing she wanted during this kind of weather.


    Rather, what she craves are the warmth that soothes her and brush her hair so kindly, it reminds her of a faraway abandoned home. Which is why she''s moving onto the opposite direction of said distraction.


    She can no longer deny the attraction, the unthinkable relationship she could possibly have with Ana. But she''ll try not to spend that much time with her, despite the reality that her mind has already failed her.


    To be sure, she''ll pretend to be her guardian still, hoping that''s how Ana understood her explanation instead of the obvious truth that Quinn, a murderer, would likely be tasked to killing somebody rather than protecting her.


    She was in fact confident Ana would easily reach that conclusion on her own, the woman isn''t naive. Unless, of course, much like Quinn; Ana chose to believe in a lie of her making.


    And if that''s indeed the case, then Quinn doesn''t know how to feel. On the one hand, she''s incredibly happy that the woman does such a thing, because it means she shares her passion; and are therefore more than possible to return her sentiment. On the other, it means she shares her passion; and are therefore more than likely to return her sentiment.


    Which means, Quinn wouldn''t be rebuffed. The opposite would happen in fact, and it was extremely troubling to find her longing for it to start.


    So, here she was, with only a campfire to accompany her. They''ve returned to the fort for less than a fortnight now, and despite Quinn''s contribution to their war effort, no soldiery nor portion of the clergy wants to partake a glass with her.


    That''s fine, she thought. Unfortunately, the weather seeks to prove her wrong. Even at the start of winter, in the coldest part of the continent: the chill still bites far more frigid than expected, too harsh was them for the combination of her cookfire, alcohol, stew, and heavy fur coat.


    She''s sure she would get sick if she stays out here much longer, but she doesn''t have much desire to return to her chamber either. There, she would have the magical warm air of the temple flowing, smelling like Ana, making her face flush red with yearning.


    Not to mention, if she does get sick: she''s certain Ana would take care of her personally. Or at least, she hopes that would be the case. That would be a valid reason to have her touch her, nonetheless. And Quinn knows how far she''s willing to go to have that woman touches her.


    So far in fact, that she''s now seeing the object of her desire standing right in front of her, draped in her habit still with eyes frosty yet not unkind. Her expression isn''t severe exactly, but they certainly don''t take too well on the reality that Quinn stays out in the chill, the crossed arm is proved enough.


    "Well, at least my imagination knew her well," she comments as she chuckles, and before she could continue.


    "Why are you out this late, in this bitter of a cold, Ms. Quinn?" her fantasy spoke, the tone reprimanding and stern, like a parent to a child.


    Surprise forces Quinn to straighten her back, but only for a moment. "Matriarch!" She quickly adapts, using the momentum to stand up. "Apologies," Quinn relents as Ana''s brows furrow. "I mean: Ana!" Correcting herself. "Would you be so kind as to join me?" While plastering a dashing smile in hope of cajoling her to be her company.


    Quinn fails miserably. "Why are you out this late, Ms. Quinn?" Ana was unmoving, her question repeated with insistence and a hint that she wouldn''t yield until Quinn gave her an exact reason.


    And Quinn couldn''t, she''s not quite sure why she''s either. Probably hoping the weather would help freeze her lust, but no dice on that end so far, and she couldn''t possibly say that to her target of her adoration as well.


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    Which is why she didn''t lie, but beg. "Please?" Also repeating herself, dripping her word in complex emotions that hides deep within her, swirling in the troubled water of her soul.


    Ana sees it, and relents. She took a seat near Quinn, close but far enough to have falsifiability should push comes to shove. "Thank you," she says¡ªtinged with sadness¡ªas she follows her back down.


    Something that they both notices, and Quinn quickly tries to erase by clapping her hands. "Now!" Injecting fake cheers to her voice. "Would you like some wine? Some stew, perhaps?" Offering Ana the bottle, she stole from the general personal collection, and the stew she made from the ingredient she asked for in the kitchen.


    Ana look at each carefully but regards Quinn the longest. Their eyes meet and locked together, as if in a battle¡ªno¡ªdance to a music that neither side did not know came from where.


    Then, the moment pass. "I will take the wine." And Ana speaks again, gracefully accepting the glass Quinn holds out to her. "But not the stew, I''ve already eaten inside."


    "Of course, of course!"


    "Is that why you''re out here by yourself?"


    "Hm?"


    "Because my colleagues refuse to serve you food in the mess?"


    An amused laugh escapes Quinn before she can answer. "No, Ana." Shaking her head. "I''m out here because I''m a charlatan! A murderer! A deceiver of mortal souls!" Before frankly explaining the reason, with little exaggeration to the truth while her hand moves theatrically and dramatically. "So, they refuse to sit with me, supper with me." There''s bitterness to her tone at the end.


    "I see."


    "Even after I killed a man for them," she whispers. Finally concluding: "That''s all, Ana. No big trouble! See?"


    "I see," she repeats before silence falls onto them, both quietly sipping on their drinks, deep in thought. It wasn''t an awkward sort of silence, but a comfortable one, where the two sees no reason to talk to fill the room between them because they want no space between them.


    It was a long, long time of stargazing before the moment pass, but it does. And when the moment passes, it was because Ana broke the hush with a question that warmth Quinn''s heart.


    "I changed my mind," she says.


    "Oh? That''s good!" Quinn replies. "About what, though?"


    "The stew, do you mind serving me a portion of it?"


    "Oh, my! Not only do I not mind, Ana. I have the exact opposite feeling. But! There''s meat in the stew, is that your thing?"


    "It is."


    "Good!" Granted confirmation of the most important fact, Quinn begins ladling the stew into a clean and empty bowl as she continues to ask about Ana dietary restrictions. When she has verified that the woman has none, she gave her the stew, then. "There you go! Still warm and simmering."


    "Thank you."


    "But, of course, Ana!" Quinn mock bow, a hint of sincerity in her smile as she fills another bowl for herself, finding herself elated to finally have someone to supper with since she''s here.


    She''s not the best cook out there, to be sure. However, her skill is passable enough to be able to nevertheless made a tasty serving of something in high altitude, and that aided her a lot in this case.


    The stew wasn''t too thick, but it definitely has a texture to it. The vegetables she puts in helped balance the dry meat she manages to persuade the person in the kitchen to give to her. A simple food to survive by in the road, and one of her favorites.


    Which is why she''s glad when Ana actually began to ask for the recipe, or comment on the little things that Quinn also liked about the dish, and the stuff she never notices but is certainly there the moment Ana brings it up.


    Maybe it was the fire, perhaps she''s been out here for too long that she catches a cold, potentially it was the alcohol, the stew; or a combination between all those factors.


    But when their conversation died out with the campfire and the stew, when the bottle she has stolen out has been emptied by both, when Ana finally manage to persuade Quinn to return to the temple: Quinn''s cheeks are flushed a beautiful apple red, accompanying an honest smile.


    "Thank you," she whispers as they reach the door of her room.


    "You''re welcome, Ms. Quinn."


    "Do you mind if we do that again some other time? Soon, perhaps?"


    "I don''t, you may join me in my office for supper whensoever you want."


    "Wait!" Quinn tries to stop her smirk widening to no avail. "Really?"


    Ana waited until Quinn''s grin beam in full before replying in an affirmative, a nod of the head. Conservative. Though, Quinn suspects it was because she holds the same feeling as her.


    This unraveling of happiness at her heart is certainly half-fueled by alcohol. But the other half is no doubt by the woman in front of her.


    So, blood full of liquid courage Quinn takes a step forward and give to her a most direct proposal: "Then! If that''s the case...," she pauses, looking for the correct words, gentle words.


    Ana patiently waits for her to continue with clear interest in her deep blue orbs, a porcelain against her thin face.


    Until finally, the beautiful thing widens at Quinn''s statement. "... do you mind if we start wintering together, Ana?" The language used is a euphemism.


    And even if Ana doesn''t get the euphemism, she will understand what Quinn means by her body, the way her hot breath brushes against her cheeks, whispering sweet nothings into her ears.


    Which is why it was a surprise when Ana nods. "My room, a week from now." And gave her promise of a tension soon to be broken.

 Chapter 16 - A Warm Winter

    Ana doesn''t know why she says yes to Quinn a week ago, because it was certainly not out of insobriety. She has been immune to it since the day she was blessed by the Holy Fire.


    Even if she wasn''t, she has a week to change her mind and tell Quinn of the news, cancel the whole thing off. Yet, she didn''t do so. She spends the week having supper and small talks with the woman, but never once mention tonight: the night they promised to meet in her room.


    In fact, Ana believes she has been anticipating the day since she promises it, and are more concerned now about the possibility of Quinn changing her mind instead of the pertinence of this whole affair.


    The only hope left here is for Quinn to have the common sense not to come, to realize how improper this relationship would be and simply cancel the entire thing off. Yes, that would be the best. It most definitely will. However, when she imagines such a scenario, she can''t help but be disappointed in it.


    Before she can wallow in them, though; a knock at her door stops her. It''s rare for her colleague to pay her a visit this late into the night, but she''s being careful still. Steadying her breath with one deep take. "Come in," she grants leave for the person on the other side to open the door.


    And to her great shame and relief, she finds Quinn staring right at her with an almost sheepish smile. Ana can smell her soap mixing with her natural fragrance, truly making her smell like a rain forest.


    "Ana," she greets, a drop of water falling to the floor from her hair as she gave a bow.


    "Ms. Quinn," Ana replies, their tone both are tense. They each know what will happen here, yet none of them are willing to broach the silence, as if what they''re about to do is forbidden by fate itself, maybe it was.


    Ana couldn''t care less, though. "Ms. Quinn."


    Apparently, so does Quinn. "Ana."


    Quinn chuckles at their nervous energy, granting Ana the push to relax, even just a tad. "Please! You go first, Ana. It was by your invitation that I came, after all." Before Quinn gave her the full control of the situation.


    Used to it but still surprised, Ana''s brows furrow for a moment before she took the wheel. "Yes, certainly," she begins, a little unsure of herself. "I invite you here because I want to¡ª"¡ªhave sex with you¡ª"¡ªno, apologies." She shakes her head, blotting out the statement. "Please, allow me to retry. For reasons unknown, words escape me at the moment, Ms. Quinn."


    "Of course, Ana," Quinn replies. "While I wait for you to gather your... bearings, though." Continuing as she walks closer towards Ana who sits straighter in her bed under her gaze, readying herself for something.


    "Yes?"


    "Do you mind if I sit with you on the bed?"


    When nothing comes but an honest smile. "Oh." She relaxes. "By all means, Ms. Quinn."


    With a quick word of thanks, Quinn takes her place not on the opposite side of the bed, but right beside Ana, close enough that they only need to lean in to erase all distance from them.


    Yes, Ana whispers in her mind, all she needs to do is lean in and everything would be fine. She hoped it would be fine, at least. The literature on this kind of thing in the temple isn''t exactly many in numbers, and the few she finds aren''t really that helpful.


    However, before she can move a muscle. "You know, Ana." Quinn spoke up, looking at her straight in the eyes with an almost innocent smile. "I wouldn''t mind if we just talked tonight, if you changed your mind or are too nervous to proceed." Giving her an easy out should she wished it.


    Unfortunately, Ana craved the opposite. "I didn''t change my mind, Ms. Quinn," she says, defensive. "Nor am I too nervous to proceed."


    "But you''re nervous, yes?"


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    "I am."


    "Is this your first time, then?"


    "It is. Is it yours?"


    "No," Quinn smiles became lopsided when she answers. "Do you want me to take the lead for now?" Whispering her offer impatiently to Ana''s ears, her breathing grew quicker with every word spoken.


    "Yes." Ana nods and Quinn stands back with the permission.


    "Then!" As she does, she begins to unbuckle her belt. "With your leave, Ana." Dropping her equipment to the floor, then her leather armor. Each strap she releases, she does so with an elaborate lag to it, theatrical and inviting all at the same time. Ana knew she''s giving her a show, which she guesses is also why she''s wearing her armor and belt.


    Whatever the reason, Ana can''t deny the allure of her slowly being more exposed with every clothing removed from her body until only a shirt left covering the upper half of her physique.


    "Do you want to help with this one or would you rather continue watching from all the way over there?" Quinn''s voice is teasing yet impatient all at the same time, clear in its honesty that she just wants an answer quick.


    "The latter, if you don''t mind."


    "Not at all, Matriarch." There''s lust at the end of her sentence. "I love giving you a show." As she finally proceeds to strip down until only a binder cover her chest.


    For the second time now, Ana sees her skin vulnerable in front of her. Only this time, they were alone, with no judging eyes. And Ana can''t help but appreciate all the things she didn''t admire the first time.


    The woman has muscles, certainly. Her figure was toned and defined, but thin still, with curves that perfectly complement her face. If there are no scars in her body, Ana could easily believe her a noblewoman, untouched by the world''s cruelty.


    Definitely feeling Ana''s gaze on her body, and are clearly enjoying it. "Liking what you see so far, Ana?" Quinn''s mockery lacks bite as she walks closer.


    "Yes," Ana answer.


    "Good." Forcing Quinn smile to widen as she finally frees her breasts from the confines of the binder, allowing Ana to view them completely. They were round and full, far more sizable than she expected.


    How Quinn manages to hide it under her binder was a question soon dismissed when Quinn quickly reaches her, bending down towards Ana with her bosom pushed forwards. "Do you want to touch it?"


    With her nipples perking up and hardening, Quinn''s offer was a release for them both the moment Ana accepts and stroke her. Slowly, she pulls her towards the bed as Ana lay down while enjoying the tenderness of her mound alongside the soft moans that escapes her lips.


    The very same lips that quickly seek Ana for a kiss. It was chaste at first, but grew in its intensity as Ana continue clawing at Quinn''s chest with a desperate yet deliberate move, hoping she would somehow know enough to satisfy the woman in that fashion.


    And by the way Quinn whines into her mouth. "Matriarch." And whispers into her neck, Ana likes to believe that she half succeeded as the woman tries to return the favor by also touching her breast through her clothes.


    With the little protection her chemise offers, it was easy for Quinn to feel Ana and realizes she''s experiencing the exact same thing as her. A discovery that for some reason causes Quinn to quicken her pace, exploring all parts of Ana''s figure in the hope of finding something.


    As Quinn''s tempo accelerates, Ana''s grew slower instead. She counts the woman ribs, caressing her cheeks, every so often forgetting the world when her partner manages to make her audibly moan.


    It took her a moment to realize that the next time she cries out in pleasure; her upper body has lost clothing in the process, as bare as Quinn''s. Their chest touches with no barrier now, the closeness of their body unimpeded as the both of them knew what will happen afterwards.


    There''s no going back, none of them wants to go back. Ana wrestles the controls from Quinn, positioning herself on top before continuing their kiss, her hands busy struggling to get the woman''s pants out of the way.


    Between their shallow kisses. "Relax¡ª" Quinn chuckles. "¡ªMatriarch." Trying to calm her down to no avail.


    Ana moves in haste, as if afraid that this was a dream and morning will soon come for her; the light of the sun erasing all of Quinn''s warmth from the memory of her body.


    Reassuring herself, she strokes the woman''s private area the moment it was accessible, discovering it hot and damp, easily swallowing her finger.


    Clearly not one to take things for granted, Quinn replied in kind, and she''s much better at it than Ana. So rather than trying to fight her, Ana attempts to mimic her motion instead. All that she finds pleasurable she puts right back to work with Quinn.


    And she succeeds. As the night grew darker and colder, their body grew brighter and warmer. The sounds that escape their lips are made of nothing but carnal desire, each kiss they made are an intake of fresh air.


    There are no more Quinn and Ana, not that night. That night, they''re one entity, connected by limbs and passion, reaching the height of ecstasy over and over, one after another.


    Until finally their chests are too heavy to continue, their limbs aching from repeated movement, their body too sweaty to be separated from the other. Dawn is outside, delivering the dreaming from their fantasy.


    To her great embarrassment, Ana felt tremendous relief when the woman in her embrace doesn''t disappear. Feeling safe and sound with Quinn beside her, Ana can''t help but believe Quinn''s words to be no trickery.


    For at this moment, as drowsiness threatens to drag her into the welcoming embrace of the void, she has never felt more comfortable anywhere but right here, in the arms of her guardian.

 Chapter 17 - The Morning After, Part 01

    The morning was nearly done when they¡¯re both finally awake, though none of them are willing to move just yet. Their body frozen still in the same pose they take at the end of their excursion.


    Quinn was lucky she rouses up faster than Ana, for it allows her to witness the softness of the woman¡¯s face, now lacking any severity of her usual expression. Her breathing was slow and comfortable as she uses Quinn¡¯s right arm as a pillow.


    She had her, it was time to leave now: to prove to herself that she has no other feeling but carnal.


    Yet, she can¡¯t.


    Not now, when she¡¯s this near to the object of her desire, and everything they¡¯ve done last night exceed all of her expectations. Seeing the kindness in her face shining still, the way their heart beat in unison, Quinn¡¯s unable to abandon her. She doesn¡¯t want to.


    Instead, she pulls Ana closer, kissing her hair, catching a whiff of her sweat made sweet by the smell of incense that still lingers on her. The aroma causes her to let out a sigh of contentment.


    She will take this repose, this calm, this ataraxia; she will have tomorrow to panic about everything else. For now, all that matters is the woman in her arms, slowly returning to wakefulness.


    For a moment, Quinn worries that she¡¯ll draw away when she notices they cuddle still. Which is why, when she doesn¡¯t and their orbs meet. ¡°Good morning, Ana.¡± Quinn can¡¯t help but smile and give her a little peck on the mouth.


    Ana quickly reciprocates the gesture before replying. ¡°Is it morning?¡±


    ¡°It is, we¡¯re three hours after sunrise,¡± Quinn answers, caressing Ana¡¯s cheeks. ¡°Have you somewhere to be, Ana?¡± Careful to not make her eye pleading, her question a discreet means to make her stay.


    Ana was silent for a long time studying Quinn¡¯s face, the way her prosthetic hand stroke her cheek before she gave a nod. ¡°Yes.¡± Forcing Quinn to quickly cover her dejection with a fake smile. ¡°But I will remain for now.¡± That turns real as Ana continues.


    Quinn wishes to tease her for it, but she has no desire to challenge the woman and make her change her mind, so she simply says: ¡°Of course, Ana.¡± With a grin so wide that her face almost hurts.


    Ana looks at that grin for a moment before gracing Quinn with one of her own. It was a precious thing, small but beautiful all the same. The most dazzling thing Quinn has ever seen, in fact, that it took her a second to realize Ana has asked her a question.


    ¡°I¡¯m so sorry, Ana. But your smile has bewitched me so!¡± Quinn explains, hoping the honest praise will pay for her offense. ¡°Do you mind repeating the question?¡±


    ¡°Do you enjoy last night, Ms. Quinn?¡±


    ¡°Please! We have seen all of each other now,¡± Quinn whispers into her ears as she trails her finger on her spine, absentmindedly counting the port. ¡°Just call me Quinn, would you?¡±


    ¡°Of course, Quinn¡­,¡± she replied, tasting the name on her tongue. And judging by her expression, she liked it, and so does Quinn.


    ¡°Now! To answer your question: I do.¡± It makes her voice light. ¡°You¡¯re a quick learner, and more dexterous with your finger than expected.¡± And easy as she speaks openly, no mind games or trickery up her sleeve.


    This book''s true home is on another platform. Check it out there for the real experience.


    ¡°Good.¡± Ana nods, pulling them close until her face is buried in Quinn¡¯s chest. ¡°I¡¯m glad.¡± Whispering her response to them.


    ¡°So am I. Especially if you also enjoyed last night.¡±


    ¡°I do,¡± Ana draws away to look Quinn in the eyes with a determination of a soldier. ¡°Though I have no point of comparison, last night was most agreeable to me.¡±


    Quinn laughs at her choice of words, but didn¡¯t use it to barb her.


    Instead, she moves the conversation forward. ¡°Great! Does that mean you will also find it most agreeable if we make this arrangement into something more regular?¡± Trying her luck when she knows she¡¯s supposed to stay away.


    ¡°Pardon?¡± Ana¡¯s brow furrows.


    ¡°You¡¯ve done no wrong, Ana,¡± Quinn teases, making the creases deeper and more severe, finally extracting another snicker from Quinn.


    Before the woman can chastise her because of it. ¡°I¡¯m sorry!¡± Quinn apologizes. ¡°You¡¯re just too stunning with that stern look of yours. I can¡¯t help it.¡± And explains herself. ¡°What I meant is, should our schedule allow: would you like to do this again?¡±


    ¡°The talk? Or the copulation?¡±


    Quinn can¡¯t help but snort at the formality of her word. ¡°The latter! If you don¡¯t mind, Matriarch.¡± Causing her to play along in a weightless mockery. ¡°The former if you do, both if I have the choice.¡±


    ¡°I see.¡± Ana fell deep in thought, then, but doesn¡¯t distance herself from Quinn still, something that Quinn takes as a good sign while she patiently waits for Ana to decide the fate of their relationship.


    As if reading her mind. ¡°If I agree to such a thing, would the nature of our affiliation changes?¡± That was the first question Ana asked when she¡¯s done considering the whole proposal.


    Before Quinn can answer with a resounding yes, she cuts herself off, quickly gaining control of her emotion. She doesn¡¯t want to address this issue with her yet mind clouded by their tryst.


    However, she has faced this exact problem enough time from all of her casual partners that she knew how easy it was to turn the table. ¡°Do you want it to change?¡± By simply giving the same inquiry.


    Unfortunately, Ana wasn¡¯t her usual partners, despite the fact that she¡¯s as charming and handsome as the others. She doesn¡¯t have their tongue, the tongue of liars and deceiver.


    Hers was honest and unbending. ¡°Yes,¡± she answers with no hesitation, a gut punch that forces a nervous chuckle to escapes Quinn.


    ¡°I see.¡± Still afraid of her own response. ¡°Well! If it changes, what do you imagine it would become, Ana?¡±


    ¡°I don¡¯t know. Whatever it is, I simply would like to espy it.¡± Her voice is maternal now, her orbs no longer look at Quinn but at a future not even Quinn could foresee. It made her appear sacred and holy, marking Quinn¡¯s flesh in heresy just for touching her.


    Yet, she couldn¡¯t pull away; doesn¡¯t want to. The candor on display is succor to Quinn, who has lived in the shadow for so long she has forgotten how warm it was to be this close with another.


    With that in mind. ¡°How about this, Ana.¡± Quinn revises her suggestion. ¡°We continue our dalliances, with or without the sex!¡ªThough I would much prefer the former¡ªand if after two weeks none of us are tired of each other, we name it? Do you find that agreeable?¡±


    ¡°Yes,¡± Ana responds. ¡°Thank you.¡± Awarding her another chaste kiss on the lips, one that Quinn attempts to give chase for before Ana stops her with her hand. ¡°I have to go now, Quinn.¡± Announcing the end of their affair that day.


    ¡°Ah! But, of course. The life of a leader never ceases to be busy,¡± Quinn comments when they¡¯re no longer one, trying her best to hide her disappointment as she dressed herself back up alongside Ana, who dresses far more loosely for the bathhouse.


    The only reason Quinn puts back on all of her clothing was because she knew how the game was played to the last detail, which includes her sneakily escaping the bedroom of her fling without anyone noticing.


    And it seems, Ana understood that much, too; considering her lack of puzzlement about Quinn¡¯s actions.


    The only irregular thing the woman has done: ¡°Quinn.¡± Was calling out to Quinn before she can exit the room. ¡°You¡¯re always welcome in my office.¡± Vowing companionship. ¡°And my chamber.¡± Alongside a repeat performance of last night events.


    It took all of her effort to not jump in joy and suppress her reaction to a mere nod instead. She¡¯s not afraid that Ana will take that as an insult, for the light of her face doesn¡¯t lie, it shines brighter and far warmer than the morning sun.


    That kind of warmth permeate Quinn whole being as she walks back to her own room, easily ignoring all the stares that have gone her way. She doesn¡¯t care about them, she can¡¯t; not when her mind is full of nothing but her.


    She whose breaths are the gentle wind, a herald of spring.


    She whose eyes are a brook that sates all thirst, deeper and kinder than the ocean; from which all water came.


    She who has stolen her heart and gave it life afresh.

 Chapter 18 - The Morning After, Part 02

    Ana watches Quinn go with deep longing held at bay by her sense of duty. She has stopped the woman once, and allowed her to distract her once; she shall not do so again and miss her morning prayer.


    With haste, she heads to the mostly empty bathhouse, trying her best to ignore the questioning glare that surrounds her. She will answer them honestly if they asked, which is why she¡¯s hoping that none of them does.


    And indeed, for once, the way people treat her as something above them and inhuman are to her benefit. Some stops her, but only to greet her or to pose her a question about today¡¯s schedule.


    A relief, because Ana doesn¡¯t want to bring a scandal to the temple. Not because she¡¯s sharing her bed with someone, the Great Mother is one for love; physical, emotional, or both. Rather, it was with whom she shares it with that will spell woe for everyone involved.


    At that moment, she couldn¡¯t care less. But now, with everyone eyes on her; she began to wonder whether or not she should simply disconnect herself from Quinn and all the problems that came with her.


    That would be for the best for everyone but her, Ana¡¯s certain. Yet, unlike so many times before: she refuses to give this one up. She will find a compromise that will work, she must.


    With that thought in mind, she relaxes into the bath, permitting the warm aromatic water to transport her to a better place, devoid of bubbling troubles coming her way. Slowly and effectively, they take away the aches from her body, but not the marks of yesterday left by bites and kisses.


    She doesn¡¯t want them to do so. Even now, the memory of it still fills her heart with a joyful sensation, and she would like to never let go of that. It has been quite some times since she last felt it, after all.


    Truthfully, that was perhaps one of the better reason Ana has for accepting Quinn¡¯s proposal. The other one was simply improper for a woman of her caliber: she fell for Quinn¡¯s charms and are now in love with her.


    Which is more likely than she cares to admit, considering she has deliberately granted the woman a chance to escape prosecution by the way she phrases her question and doesn¡¯t ask for further clarification.


    Whatever the case, Quinn is a problem for Ana now, and she couldn¡¯t be happier.


    Such a cheer exudes from her the entire day, from her prayers for the safety of all she loves¡ªQuinn included¡ªto the jobs she performs during the day: giving out that day¡¯s tasks to her colleagues and checking in on people still stuck on the sick bay.


    Most of the individuals she interacted with grant her a curious glance but says nothing more, for Ana doesn¡¯t quite smile; her eyes just shine brighter than they¡¯re used to see.


    It burns white-hot when lunchtime comes, promptly excusing herself to return to her office; hoping she would find Quinn in there.


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    Seemingly not one to disappoint Ana, she indeed is already situated in front of her desk with a dish at hand. As soon as the door was opened and she realizes it was Ana, she stands up and gave a mock bow as a greeting.


    ¡°Quinn,¡± Ana replied, nodding.


    ¡°Ana.¡±


    The pleasantries done, Ana sits at her seat while Quinn quickly followed, beginning their lunch together. The item on the menu presently wasn¡¯t impressive yet are still delicious, though Ana couldn¡¯t credit her enjoyment of today¡¯s lunch to the food but to the company.


    She starts the conversation mundane. ¡°How¡¯s your day so far, Ana?¡± With a question other has asked her for badinage and with an obvious disinterest, hoping it would be enough to cover the fact that they¡¯re talking to Ana for other reasons.


    They never succeeded, but Ana was still sufficiently polite in her humor to reply in kind, as expected of her: ¡°It was fine, Quinn.¡±


    However, rather than moving on from the topic. ¡°Oh?¡± Quinn leans forward instead. ¡°That¡¯s great to hear! Care to elaborate?¡± The curiosity that coats the entirety of her voice was genuine.


    ¡°If you¡¯re interested.¡±


    ¡°Oh, I¡¯m very interested, Ana,¡± she teases, making sure Ana know that the exaggeration was no mockery and based on something sincere.


    And so, Ana obliged. She told Quinn of the deeds she has done for the day and the troubles that halt her on the way. Quinn engaged her through the entire conversation, she would ask for a clarification on one thing, and give an anecdote to relate to the other.


    When Ana was done, time has moved far past them both, the tray that contains their food has long been empty: their little luncheon has ended.


    Slowly, Quinn stands from her seat with a wry smile plastered onto her radiant face. ¡°I do apologize for not tagging along today, Ana.¡± She¡¯s apologetic. ¡°But! I have a rather urgent business with General Adder that will take all of my day.¡±


    ¡°Duty first,¡± Ana responds, burying the disappointment deep inside her heart. ¡°I understand perfectly, Quinn. There¡¯s nothing for you to apologize for.¡±


    ¡°Oh! There¡¯s a lot for me to apologize for, Ana,¡± Quinn retorts, half-joking; causing Ana¡¯s brow to furrow. Seeing that expression, Quinn smile turns into her usual impish grin as she continues: ¡°I¡¯m available still throughout the night, though.¡± With a wink to end her sentence.


    The wink gave pause to Ana for a moment. ¡°Of course, and my offer stands, Quinn.¡± But not long.


    ¡°Good day, then, Matriarch.¡±


    ¡°Good day, Ms. Quinn.¡±


    Ana waits until the woman was truly out of sight and mind before she moves on, proceeding with her duty as best as she can while ignoring the fact that while Quinn wasn¡¯t following her, she can still feel her presence annexing over the entirety of her thought.


    For the second half of the day, she was unbalanced; not her usual self. Some of her colleagues even suggest her rest due to the way her face would sometimes turn feverish red throughout the day, seemingly at random.


    Ana doesn¡¯t take the offer, of course; nor does she explain the real reason. She merely endures until night finally arrives with a promise of reprieve from the terrorizing force that has made home inside her skull.


    Fresh from the shower, she sits at her desk doing some logistical calculations¡ªmaking sure they have enough herbs and rations to survive the winter month¡ªwhile waiting for Quinn to come.


    The woman is an enigma to Ana, an anomaly, a question that begs an answer. She understood how someone so charming can be so hated, how that silver tongue was used to tempt people into the deepest pit of despair.


    Yet, here she was all the same, looking forward to her visit.


    She whose smile are the striking lightning, a beautiful disaster; bright and blinding.


    She whose voice are a gale that stokes all desires, faster and bolder than the very wind; to which all things kneel.


    She who has taken her heart and make it beat anew.

 Chapter 19 - Love Blooms, Part 01

    A fortnight passes quickly in the winter this year, and Quinn suspect it has everything to do with her company. This is the day Quinn will answer her feeling, and there¡¯s no denying it.


    She loves her. The word echoes in her mind, reverberate through the empty spaces that now exist to be occupied by her very presence. Quinn doesn¡¯t even know what she sees from her, yet her she is; ready and excited to declare her allegiance to the woman she promises to murder.


    Quinn understands that made her no fool, but a gaggle of them. All she needs now is a circus and an audience and she will be rich from her pathetic little performance. However, as the hour of their lunch draw nearer and nearer, it matters less and less.


    She doesn¡¯t mind if she was a clown, a mere jester on the stage of life. She couldn¡¯t care about a lot of things when the prospect of having something more official with the target of her adoration is within reach.


    It even almost made her forget of the promise she had already made.


    Unfortunately, she doesn¡¯t manage to do so.


    During this period of utter freeze, especially this far in the north; most large-scale fighting stops. No armies are stupid enough to march through the deep of snow simply to color it red.


    It doesn¡¯t mean the war cease entirely; for indeed, small-scale raiding parties are still being sent out by both sides to try and hinder their opponent¡¯s ability to survive the cold.


    Rather, what it signifies is that the general soldiery will have much more free time to catch up on the news before winter came. It also equates to the large presence of high-ranking personnel in a settlement or an encampment.


    And while there¡¯s certainly a chance for her assignment here during such a period was nothing but a mistake, Quinn would like to never underestimated her clients. She chose to accept a job from the for a reason, after all.


    Most of the time, it¡¯s because she will they can repay her in kind or tenfold in value, should she help them succeed on their endeavor then. It was the very same logic she uses when she decided to aid the crown prince, in fact.


    She believes him to be no fool, and even in the unlikely scenario where she misjudges his character, he¡¯s still humble enough to surround himself with individuals who are his equal or superior in intellect and wit; listening to their counsel.


    Brain exclusively wouldn¡¯t save a person, let alone a kingdom, of course. Especially not when a popular rebellion rises about it¡ªled by its war heroes; supported by one chapter of the largest temple in the continent¡ªso soon after the king¡¯s assassination.


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    It was only a matter of time until the realm fell. Unless, an action was taken. Against the veterans, yes; but also, their newfound allies. The Mutilated Hand was impossible to tamper with, for they have no leader.


    The Chapter of the Holy Fire on the other hand has a leader. Not only that, their leader has become an unofficial icon of the revolution, despite the fact that most people haven¡¯t seen her face; they¡¯ve heard of her deeds.


    This woman that they admire, the woman backing them alongside the chapter that she commands is one that is ready to die for a near stranger. So, the propaganda needs only to ask: why wouldn¡¯t she be willing to die for you? Why wouldn¡¯t you be willing to die for her?


    Quinn could hear the words echoes in her skull now, the reason her mind has been running ragged the entire two weeks are close at hand.


    She¡¯s looking for someone or something else to blame for the tragedy that is about to befall her and Ana, and she has found it.


    All the small and unrelated truth forces Quinn to a conclusion: the crown prince knew Ana¡¯s profile since the start. He can describe her to Quinn during their first meeting, but doesn¡¯t.


    The why for that negative action is one that at the moment, Quinn was unable to answer; she¡¯s merely certain that this was the case. For if it wasn¡¯t; then the bloodshed and heartbreak that follows will surely be her fault, and she can¡¯t bear that again.


    She refuses to get caught holding the knife for a third time.


    With such a grim thought in mind, Quinn puts on a fake cheer and sits down on her usual position in her office when her sharp ears catch the sound of Ana¡¯s footsteps from the halls.


    The moment the door opens, Quinn stands to attention, bowing deeper than normal. ¡°Ana!¡± she greets, hoping the comfort she felt at seeing her are enough to overpower any leftover negative emotions.


    And it looks like it does. ¡°Quinn.¡± Ana¡¯s oblivious to the goings-on of Quinn¡¯s brain as she takes a seat and permits Quinn to do the same; starting their fourteenth luncheon together.


    Their conversation flows smoothly from one topic to another, seemingly without care. Though, Quinn can sense the tension of the air. Not out of awkwardness or some unresolved sourness from the last time they interact, but at the expectation of a confession; an answer only Quinn can grant.


    She¡¯s thinking of stalling for more time, clearly. Unfortunately, Quinn will never find a better chance to reply than now. After the lunch, she has some businesses to attend to regarding this dilemma, the campaign, and her dealings outside of the north. And while they will meet again when night descends, Quinn doesn¡¯t want to give this kind of promise in her lover¡¯s chamber.


    So, when their plates wiped clean of food. ¡°Well, Ana! I believe the time of reckoning has come for the two of us.¡± Quinn broaches the topic, hoping to quickly puts them both out of their misery.


    ¡°Yes, I suspect it has,¡± Ana answers, instantly grasping the subject matter.


    ¡°Well, what says you?¡±


    ¡°You don¡¯t bore me, Quinn; and would like to see our relationship evolve and continue, should you feel the same.¡±


    The bluntness of her response still manages to strike Quinn, who already expect it. Forcing her to take her time before replying with another question. This one was out of character for her.


    In a whisper soft and shy. ¡°¡­ would you say you love me, then?¡± Quinn asked.

 Chapter 20 - Love Blooms, Part 02

    Love is a strong word; Ana doesn¡¯t know love. Not in the way she believes Quinn wants the question to be answered. She loves the Great Mother, love her parents, love her friends, and love her colleagues. But that kind of love is never romantic, not the same sort of feelings as the one she held for Quinn.


    They never manage to make her face hot with a smile, her desire to burn bright and blinding. Their touches rarely make her comfortable and safe, their voices would never reverberate through her soul; forever echoing in her mind until they meet again.


    And the sight of them so vulnerable, while will always move her heart; will never make it beat with the same ferocity it now hammers for Quinn. The way her smile simmer down to a furtive thing, the way she struggles to look Ana in the eyes, the way her voice is lowering to a bashful whisper.


    This part of her, the part Ana has never seen before, almost appears like the exact opposite of her usual temperament. Gone are the mocking confidence, the bold and sharp smile, the easy assertiveness of her voice. That her was gorgeous and glorious, the flame of her soul sears Ana in a sensation similar to the venom of a snake.


    Replacing the former is a Quinn who are unsure, whose smile are soft and small, while her voice became heavy with diffident. The fire dimmed into an ember of a lightning bug, and while she¡¯s still captivating and charming, she¡¯s also¡­ cute.


    Hearing such a word verbalized in her skull causes a smile to play on her lips. What a childish word, she thinks. But nothing else would suit her better, not at this very moment.


    With all of that, all of this; all of Quinn in mind, Ana stalls just for an instant before giving her an honest answer. ¡°I don¡¯t know,¡± she says.


    Immediately, Quinn faces become crestfallen, though she tries hard to hide it by gazing towards the floor. ¡°¡­oh.¡± Her cracking voice doesn¡¯t help with the effort. When she raises her head, she does so with listlessness her fake cheer can¡¯t cover. ¡°I understand, Ana.¡±


    It causes Ana¡¯s brows to furrow for a moment before she realizes what troubles her. Before Quinn can walk away from this meeting of them with the wrong impression. ¡°I don¡¯t believe you do, Quinn.¡± Ana cuts her off, the same way the woman cuts her off just a few seconds before.


    ¡°I do?¡± she asks, daring to show hope.


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    The instant Ana sees it. ¡°Yes,¡± she replied to grasp the head. ¡°If you would only allow me to finish.¡± And pulls her back into her seat.


    With Quinn situated. ¡°As I have said: I don¡¯t know whether or not I love you, Quinn,¡± Ana began. ¡°I never experience a romantic love before, not once in my life.¡± Explaining herself like a teacher to a student. ¡°So, it would be dishonest of me to claim to love you when the feeling deep inside of me is a mere infatuation.¡±


    She pauses, giving Quinn the chance to respond. When the woman only nods, Ana continues: ¡°But I would like to learn more. To see¡ªno, apologies¡ªto confirm that what I feel for you are indeed love, romantic in its nature.¡±


    Quinn wants to answer, then, but Ana stops her by going further. ¡°Because I do feel something for you, Quinn.¡± Settling on the verdant green of her orb, studying the manner by which they observe her with curiosity.


    ¡°I know I do when our hands connect and it fits to a turn.¡±


    Absentmindedly, she rubs her hand; reliving the way Quinn held it so gently last night before they simply fell asleep side by side without doing anything else, too tired by the event of the day.


    ¡°I know I do when I watch you speak and notice the tenderness by which you discuss your familiars, the care that shines through all deceit and act as you reminisce about the many adventures you had with them.¡±


    Even now, Ana can still remember a week ago, when Quinn recounts the many anecdotes she has of her confidants as Ana works late into the dark, accompanied by Quinn at her side.


    She was absorbed in her own world when she told Ana the tales, but every time Ana gazes for too long, she would quickly notice and send her a patient smile; as if waiting for Ana to say something.


    When Ana doesn¡¯t, she continues until the night end with both of them once again sharing warmth on Ana¡¯s chamber.


    ¡°I know I do when I find your viridescent and golden eyes watching me in a silent worry at my bedside.¡±


    The catalyst of their relationship is burned to Ana¡¯s mind, it will forever be etched there as the moment she understood Quinn not as a mere human, but a person complex and capable of empathy.


    Finished with her little monologue, Ana stands and extends a hand. ¡°So, if you would kindly answer me now in affirmative, plumply take my hand and let us entrain on this odyssey conjunctly.¡±


    Though, her nervousness shows by her choice of words; she doesn¡¯t relent. Sainted, she stays still, giving Quinn the chance to think, and Ana to study her further.


    It¡¯s not exactly that there¡¯s something new to see, Ana just couldn¡¯t resist the temptation to observe her whenever she¡¯s within viewing distance. The fact that she smells like rain forest doesn¡¯t help her.


    Especially not today, not after Ana¡¯s whole monologue, following her familiarity with the entirety of Quinn¡¯s body; the way she would whimper if Ana kisses her right above the shoulder blade, the way her smile softens whenever it was directed at Ana, her words lighter, easier, kinder; more suitable for her thin and beautiful¡ª¡°Okay! I think I understand now.¡±


    Her confidence fully returned, Quinn follows suit and takes Ana¡¯s hand in hers, then: ¡°You love but are just in denial, are you not, Matriarch?¡± she teases her with an impish smirk.

 Chapter 21 - Love Blooms, Part 03

    The hand Quinn took wasn¡¯t the one offered; she took her left hand instead. That hand was marred by burn marks, as was the entirety of her left half. Quinn has seen it, has touched it, and it was the part of her she finds most joy touching.


    It was coarse and harsh, but it was exactly because of it that Ana¡¯s gentleness shines even brighter on them. While Quinn doesn¡¯t know much about the way her temple does things, she knew the scars to be a sign of great kindness.


    Unlike Quinn, her sacrifice was for others. She has seen all of hers, and her body was full of them. The cuts and stabs to the guts and heart are the most common, of course; but there are so many others in so many different places.


    It makes Quinn wonder every time she spots it, is the woman truly that kind? Or does she consider herself lesser? If it¡¯s the former then she¡¯s a saint, if it¡¯s the latter however¡ª¡°Quinn.¡±


    Her voice stops her train of thought, it was soft; barely a whisper with a reprimand of little force, and Quinn instantly knew why. Without realizing it, she has been hovering close to her, caressing every part of her body with a scar that she remembers from their many escapades.


    And the moment the anger strikes her, she squeezes a bit too hard on her chest. ¡°Apologies, Ana!¡± she says, promptly retreating from the woman, playing into the handsome smile again in hope of placating her.


    ¡°Consider it forgiven,¡± she replied briskly as she straightens her clothes once more. ¡°May I have my answer now, please?¡± Distracting then reminding Quinn quickly of the topic at hand.


    Quinn almost obliges her a response, but she stops herself short of doing so. Instead, she teases her some more. ¡°Ana, I really love it when you beg.¡± Drawing herself closer to her again.


    This time, Ana rebuffed her advances. ¡°I need to go soon, Quinn. If you don¡¯t share my feeling, I wouldn¡¯t pretend it didn¡¯t hurt; but I¡¯m more than capable of moving on with my life with a rejection.¡±


    ¡°Ana, please¡ª¡±


    ¡°So, if you would only be so kind, and answer,¡± she cuts. Her voice is heavy and serious, and Quinn was no pushover. She understood when someone was too upset to be toyed with without them lashing out.


    So, Quinn stays silent for a moment. She¡¯s thinking not because she needs any more time to think, but because she doesn¡¯t want to give such an answer here in this office, away from the world.


    The woman has bared her entire heart to Quinn and she refuses to make her believe it doesn¡¯t matter, that Quinn doesn¡¯t appreciate her. Which is why, after a bit of consideration, Quinn put on a winning smile and proposes another escapade.


    ¡°I will answer you! Not now, but¡ª¡±


    ¡°Quinn.¡±


    ¡°¡ªAna, listen. Please! Tonight, meet me in the first place we met, and I will give you my answer.¡±


    Ana¡¯s silence, then; deep in thought. Finally, she nods. ¡°That¡¯s agreeable.¡±


    ¡°Great!¡± Quinn rushes and hugs her before going out shouting: ¡°I will see you, then!¡±


    And despite Ana¡¯s best effort, she can¡¯t help but give her a small smile.


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    Time moves alongside them, then; as they both take care of their own side of business. Quinn doesn¡¯t know where Ana is. However, she imagines she¡¯s somewhere Quinn¡¯s not supposed to be. Not something that would usually stop her, but she also has messages to reply to and send.


    If there¡¯s indeed one silver lining to the fact that both of them are growing busy as spring approaches, it¡¯s that the crown prince hasn¡¯t attempted to contact Quinn any more after their initial meeting.


    That¡¯s the best result Quinn can hope for, beside the plethora of grim news from the other side of the continent. It seems that the rebellion is spiraling into an international incident, with the Mutilated Hand declaring their support; the others are forced to choose.


    Whatever their choice, whoever it¡¯s they chose to side with: Quinn doesn¡¯t care. Not at the moment. She has done her best for today, tonight she shall shove away all the worries as she prepares the area for her esteemed guest.


    First, so they¡¯re not surprised, she puts up some simple alarm system in the ground and among the canopy of the trees to circle the clearing, making sure there will definitely be a noise if stranger approaches.


    Second, she cleans the middle of the area from snow and then light an enchanted bonfire, something that should be enough to keep her and Ana¡¯s warm through the entire night if it must be without itself being threatened by the weather.


    Lastly, she places down the two chairs she borrows from the temple to the ground, the one with cushions so that their outing are reasonably comfortable for Ana.


    When she¡¯s done, Quinn makes herself snug. She¡¯s sure Ana¡¯s going to be late, considering she¡¯s still in a meeting with the general when Quinn manages to sneak away from the encampment. She doesn¡¯t mind.


    To Quinn, the woman is worth all the wait in the world.


    Slowly, time passes in a peaceful quiet, and as most animals go to sleep; the nocturnal wake up. Quinn can hear them hunt through the night, looking for food in the dense forest that hides them from the clear dark sky above.


    There, the moon shines gently onto Quinn¡¯s face, luring her to slumber in a silent lullaby.


    Luckily, before she can fall. ¡°Quinn?¡± The woman came.


    With swiftness, ¡°Ana!¡± Quinn corrects herself as she greets her, standing up to offer a hug that Ana accepts graciously.


    ¡°I apologize for the long wait, the discussion with the general became a tad heated.¡±


    ¡°Oh?¡± Quinn¡¯s eyebrows rise. ¡°He doesn¡¯t approve of our relationship?¡± Her tone turns light, teasing Ana with the question.


    ¡°We have no need for his approval on our relationship.¡± Ana was quick to end the conversation with the seriousness in her voice and the frown on her face.


    ¡°Of course, of course!¡± Quinn relents, sitting back down to her place and offering Ana the same. Ana eyes the chair and gives a sharp disapproving look to Quinn before following suit.


    For a few moments, there is only silence. Ana patiently waiting for her answer, and Quinn trying her best ignoring Ana¡¯s gaze as she drinks the night sky instead, hoping to forever remember tonight by all the beauties she sees¡ªthe most dazzling saved for last, of course.


    With the praise in her skull. ¡°Ana.¡± Quinn begins, allowing their eyes to lock as a smile play on her lips. ¡°Unfortunately, unlike you: I¡¯m too sure of my feelings to be certain of my words,¡± she says with a laugh lacking mirth.


    When Ana replies in nothing but concerned frowns, Quinn stands up and walks until she¡¯s right in front of her. The entire time, the woman watches her with orbs that shine with care great and fiery.


    The moment Quinn is close enough, Ana tries to reach out; obviously desperate to discover what was hidden deep beneath the heart she so magnanimously gives. Knowing the answer, Quinn catches her left hand before it reaches.


    With their hand connected, she kneels to be on her eye level. And softly, she kisses her knuckles one by one, brushing her lips against them with reverence, an act of worship to the most celestial of body.


    ¡°There¡¯s nothing in the world I¡¯d like more,¡± she continues when she¡¯s done, her hand she holds still. ¡°Than to be yours and for you to be mine.¡± There¡¯s no lie, no trickery. ¡°If you would have me, of course!¡± Only an honest hesitance at the end of her sentence.


    Ana replies comes in a hurry as she pulls Quinn closer, apparently unwilling to wait but a moment more, just enough time for Quinn to nod and allow the kiss to happen.


    It wasn¡¯t full of passion or need or want. The kiss was soft and comfortable, like a warm stew after a day¡¯s work. It was intimate and loving, and Quinn can¡¯t help but smile to the kiss.


    For while she can feel the storm gathers and worsen, she knew she can weather anything with her; everything with her.


    And together they will stand, until the first light comes.

 Chapter 22 - Flower Trampled, Part 01

    Ana was breathless from her meeting with Quinn, she suspects it was because of more reason than just the weather. The way the woman hugs her, her body coils around her in a measure protective and comforting both.


    She doesn''t know sitting on another woman''s lap¡ªno¡ªsitting on Quinn''s lap can overwhelm her so. They''ve done nothing but touching each other through their clothing, too conscious of the sickness that will bite them both should they try for anything more, yet here she is; still a mess.


    If she doesn''t have a meeting this morning with the representative of the Mutilated Hand, she would''ve courted her to come back to her chamber to continue their little escapade. Alas, here she is, alone and shivering from the ghost of pleasure; not part of hers are affected by the cold.


    Sighing at the memory one last time, she makes a beeline for the bathhouse. After all, Quinn is hers and she was already invited to return to her bed tonight. There will be enough time to continue where they left off later.


    With that in mind, she sinks into the bathtub, allowing the warm water to evaporate all thinking but business from her head. Though, not even they can stop a small smile from forming on her lips as one thought echo: Quinn''s my girlfriend.


    It puts a spring to her walks, a lightness to her usually stern voice; the kind of abnormality that attracts attention from her colleagues who dare not questions her, despite the fact that she hopes they do.


    This demeanor stays with her until the scheduled meeting, where she met the man the majority only knew as the Crownsplitter. He was tall and intimidating with the many scars that litter his body.


    However, his voice was polite and soft. When he shakes Ana''s hand, he does so gently, clearly minding the strength of his own muscles.


    There he introduces himself as King, chuckling when he mistakes the small smile that plays on Ana''s lips was because of the irony of his name and not the fact that Ana can imagine Quinn''s laugh from said irony.


    The pleasantries done; King begins the details of their partnership in earnest. It mentions how they shall operate and cooperate, what kind of help they can each ask from each other and so many more negotiations of power and concessions.


    All things Ana is used to, arguments of politics that she loathes to perform but has mastered for the sake of her own works.


    Creases were smoothed over, words are made firmer, and promises are translated into two written documents; signed each with signatures, blood, and then the official seal of their respective organizations.


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    Only when all of this is done does King move on to a topic he seems to be keen on during their lunch together in Ana''s office. "I saw you returning with Quinn at dawn, Matriarch." His voice''s light, but there''s no joke in his face.


    "I do," Ana answers neutral but honest.


    "Is there something going on between you two?"


    "There is something going on between us, yes."


    "I see," the man replied with an obvious bait. It was clear from his tone that he knew more, he just wanted Ana to be the one who asked for the information instead of the one who told her.


    "Why? Is there something wrong?"


    At her question, the man gave a mysterious smile. "You sure you want to know?"


    "Yes." Ana nods.


    "Well, we have a sneaking suspicion that she slithers here under the order of the crown prince."


    "To kill you, Matriarch."


    Ana was silent, the revelation causing a war to rage on her mind. She believes Quinn capable of doing such a thing, but why would she get close to me if I were indeed her job? To blind me into a sense of security perhaps, but she already succeeded in doing so. Why not finish the job with a knife, then? Why does she touch me so softly under the duvet? Why kiss me so kindly on the lips? Why whispers words of worships to my ears? Why¡ª?


    "Rumors, of course," King cuts her train of thought. "We have no proof of such a thing at the moment, beside the fact that she''s looking for information about you before coming here." And grants some sort of assurance.


    Accompanied with those words. "I see." The war in Ana''s mind has been won by the side that loves and long to be loved. "Unsubstantiated claim, then?" Ana asks, seeking confirmation for her bias.


    As if realizing that, the man answers in a wry smile as he stands. "If that''s how you want to take it, Matriarch." Bowing his head in respect. "Thank you for the lunch, and the meeting. I will send the tentative agreement to the others so that they may vote on it. Good day." And walking out, leaving Ana deep in thought.


    She knew it was impolite to not reply, but the thing the man has said has placed doubt in her; soured the mood she rarely feels. The smile no longer plays in her lips, and the lightness in her voice has been replaced by something heavy and foreboding.


    Throughout the rest of the shortening day, Ana was back to her old self, and her colleagues don''t know whether to be thankful about such a thing or not.


    When dusk finally falls, she rushes through all of her routine beside the prayer. Instead, the prayer changes. She still asks for the safety and happiness of all that she cares about, of course.


    But, also for answers, for truths she believes has been hidden from her.


    Only after that does she returns to her chamber to find Quinn already waiting for her in a nightgown, sitting tastefully on her bed; something Ana has never seen her in before. It was clear to Ana that Quinn wanted to surprise her, hoping to continue their dalliance.


    Unfortunately, Ana has lost the mood. Tinged with guilt, "May we do nothing but sleep together tonight?" she asked, her eyes locked with the woman, watching her expression carefully.


    "Ana?" she calls out, walking closer to Ana. "Are you all right?" Stroking her cheek.


    "I am," Ana answers firmly. "I just have the need to sleep with you tonight."


    "Then, I will be more than glad to oblige," she replied with a chaste kiss, leading Ana to slumber.


    In her arms, with her face buried upon her face, Ana can hear the thrum of her heart; and feel... happy.


    With that happiness she falls asleep and dreams of clouds and feathers, of daggers and murders.

 Chapter 23 - Flower Trampled, Part 02

    Quinn can see her shift in her arms, every movement of hers cause a shiver of joy to run through her spine. There¡¯s no pleasure to be gained here, nothing but warmth to ward off the winter cold.


    However, here was Quinn all the same, her eye intently watching the woman peacefully asleep. One of her hands, pulls a dagger hidden beneath the pillow, it would be so easy to stab her in the neck and let her bleed.


    Yet, even just thinking of such a thing makes her flinch away, almost waking Ana in the process before she corrects her behavior. She still slips out, but gently. Once she¡¯s free, she can¡¯t help but let out a disappointed sigh at their separation, Ana¡¯s warmth on her side becoming something normal and desirable to her.


    Unfortunately, she can fulfill that wish of her tonight. Even from afar, she can hear the delicate flaps of pigeon wings. A traceable messenger, but far less likely to be intercepted with a human error.


    None of her correspondence is stupid enough to send Quinn a missive through them when Quinn¡¯s on a mission, though. And while it was true that the bird is intended for Ana, the news from a few acquaintances told Quinn that this fowl originates directly from the palace itself.


    Which can only mean one thing: the crown prince is trying to urge her to finish the contract before spring came. Quinn undoubtedly understood why, but she can¡¯t find it in herself to murder the woman.


    Not now, not after everything they¡¯ve done and said to each other.


    With that thought in mind, she threw the dagger to the pigeon; certain she hits her targets when she heard a soft thud down to the snow. And despite how averse she was to getting sick, she¡¯s about ready to leave for the wintry exterior when the promise she has made to Fate itself came due.


    The world has considered her behavior to be in direct opposition of her oath, and has chosen to force her to action instead. With movement heavy and stiffs she finds herself on top of Ana, with hands slowly but surely approaching her throat, keen to finish the job.


    The entire time, Quinn whispers a protective charm she¡¯s not confident will succeed until her hands but an inch away from her marred neck¡ªbeautiful in its ways¡ªand Ana open her eyes.


    The spell works, then. The powers that inspire her has released her from their grasp, leaving her in the most compromising position one can take in the failure of a murderer.


    Already, her mind whirs for a mean to talk herself out of this while her physique stays stiff, allowing Ana to study her unusually frank expression and body postures. And before Quinn can decide what to say next, the woman speaks one word.


    ¡°Quinn?¡± It was her name, dipped in concern so thick it was impossible to miss, a gut punch that forces a relieved chuckle to escapes Quinn as she falls onto the woman¡¯s chest; withering from exhaustion.


    ¡°Yeah,¡± Quinn whispers. ¡°All¡¯s good now.¡± Smiling at Ana who frowns in response, the confusion and myriad of questions gleaming in her eyes. All the things she swallows as she simply nods and strokes Quinn¡¯s hairs, lulling her to sleep.


    ¡°Was it a nightmare?¡± Ana asks, filling the silence with a voice cold yet soft.


    ¡°It was,¡± Quinn answers, hugging her tighter.


    Ending their conversation, ¡°I see.¡± Ana replied with finality, as usual.


    And in that position, they slumber until the day break anew.


    Gently, the light plays on Quinn¡¯s face, teasing her into wakefulness; something that she took a few moments to do before she catches Ana¡¯s orbs already open, watching her patiently.


    ¡°Morning, Matriarch,¡± Quinn greets with a quip, her voice glow with bliss as she climbs her body for a quick but intimate kiss.


    ¡°Good morning, Quinn.¡±


    ¡°Thank you for last night. Your touch is so very helpful to me.¡±


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    ¡°I am glad to be of assistance, Quinn.¡±


    Quinn smirks at the reply, finally pulling their body apart; becoming two again. ¡°Well! Do you mind if I go out first today?¡± Swiftly changing the topic before disappointment settles on her face. ¡°I have some urgent business, and we both understand them seeing your lady friend wouldn¡¯t do you much good.¡± Her last sentence can¡¯t help but be caught in a self-derisive tone.


    ¡°I am open to the idea of being seen with you, Quinn.¡± She sits up, earnest and defensive in her words. ¡°I do not disdain it.¡±


    ¡°But will you like it?¡± Quinn challenges with a teasing smile, giving Ana pause yet not for long.


    ¡°I will,¡± she answers, forceful and honest.


    To that kind of response. ¡°Next time, then, Ana.¡± Quinn¡¯s face can only brighten. ¡°For now: I bid you adieu!¡± As she sneaks away from the woman¡¯s chamber to her own room, rarely inhabited since the day they first share a night of passion.


    There, she changes to her usual attire; making sure all parts of her are protected before she heads out to the snow, to unearth the pigeon lies deep beneath the freshly fallen white with Quinn¡¯s dagger embedded still to its body.


    Ignoring the dagger for a moment, she searches the bird carefully to find a tiny scroll of paper implanted onto its skin, certainly enchanted to only be unwrapped by its valid recipient.


    Though, if Quinn¡¯s eye isn¡¯t mistaken, the sorcery is far too simple for her liking. Proving her right, the thing open at her left hand upon the utterance of her name, unraveling into a missive with only one short sentence inscribed onto it.


    ¡°Kill her before spring or our deal is off, Snake.¡±


    The handwriting is expensive and well trained, obviously came from a tutor only the best money can buy. But the tone of it lacks the charm and wit nobles tries to inject to their letters, in the hope of being able to worm their ways out of their own remarks should the need arises.


    Something the crown prince is clearly not worried about. After all, who exactly will take the words of a known saboteur at face value against the crown prince of one of the oldest kingdoms in the north?


    Even if plenty of people do, the crown prince doesn¡¯t put his seal anywhere near this letter, nor does he actually use his main hand to write this, considering the marks of his pen being dragged across the paper.


    Clearly, he thinks reasonably of himself to protect his identity and place some distance away from the wet work. But if so the case, then why is he stupid enough to send a message by carrier pigeon in the middle of winter with a demand so blatant and idiotic?


    Who exactly does he consider he¡¯s to change the term of the oath midway through? To ordain her as though she¡¯s one of her subjects, loyal to his every pathetic whim and whimpering commands.


    Such a thought put a smile to Quinn¡¯s face, a sharp and jagged one; the grin of an ambush predator who watches their prey marches straight into their gaping mouth, ready to be swallowed whole.


    As if noticing her pleasant mood, a presence familiar from her past approaches. It took her a few moments, yet at his fifth step. ¡°King!¡± she greets him with confidence as the combustion at the tip of her prosthetic burns away the piece of paper to nothing but ash in the wind.


    Definitely seeing her action. ¡°Quinn!¡± The man pointedly ignores it. ¡°What a great surprise to find you here, old pal.¡± Opening his arms for a warm hug, something that Quinn rushes to seize.


    She laughs, too boisterous to be genuine in his embrace. ¡°I can say the same to you!¡± she continues their pleasant conversation. ¡°What are you doing here, friend?¡± Portraying an ignorant damsel to his observant eyes, lowering her voice, trying to mimic an innocent curiosity.


    Not in the hope of tricking him, certainly; he has known Quinn for long enough to be able to discern the real and fantasy. Rather, she does it so he plays along, also decreasing his volume so only a select few can hear them.


    ¡°Oh! For what else but the revolution, my old pal?¡±


    ¡°Ha! Of course, of course! The most important rebellion of our Incarnation, if I remember her speech correctly.¡±


    ¡°Hm! Yes, the lecture she gave to you moments before you turn her away, turn us away.¡±


    ¡°Ah, well. I do hope it doesn¡¯t sour our relationships! I have to go to vacation, King. This business can be tiring, so very tiring. You understand.¡±


    ¡°Oh, I absolutely understand, Quinn! I, too, will have a long rest with the missus and kids after this.¡±


    ¡°Good, that¡¯s great to hear! Give Elena my love and thanks, will you? I will visit soon.¡±


    ¡°I certainly will! After you helped me solve one small puzzle, that is.¡± The playfulness in his face and voice are gone, replaced by the hardened expression of a veteran confronting a traitor.


    Dauntless, Quinn stood her ground; her smile coiled down, as if readying itself to spring even wider the moment violence breaks. ¡°Oh, by all means, King! I am an open book,¡± she says, her hands hovering over her dagger.


    ¡°Why are you here, Snake?¡± he escalates, unsheathing his swords only to be met with Quinn¡¯s dagger. ¡°Who is it that he sent you to poison and swallow? What wells have your venomous fangs seeps into?¡±


    ¡°Accusations!¡± Quinn pushes him back. ¡°Accusations!¡± Over. ¡°Accusations!¡± And again, with a growing smile. ¡°Is that all you have against me, King? Baseless claims and rumors about the wind? Nothing solid to be destroyed with logic?¡±


    ¡°Don¡¯t play coy with me, girl. I¡¯ve known you since youth, I see what you are.¡±


    ¡°Oh? Then, please. Tell me! What supposed evil plans do I have here beside helping a rebellion win? Which! As far as I remember, your organization doesn¡¯t consider evil at all.¡±


    ¡°You plan to kill her.¡±


    ¡°Her?¡± Quinn taunts, betting¡ªno¡ªhoping he wouldn¡¯t know that far.


    She¡¯s wrong, and in the most inopportune of time.


    Unwilling to let such a mistake ruin her relationship. ¡°Matriarch!¡± She quickly greets the woman that approaches them, giving shock to King and Ana both.

 Chapter 24 - Flower Trampled, Part 03

    Quinn sleeps on her chest, listening to the steady beat of her heart as a lullaby. Ana doesn¡¯t stop her caress, though; refusing to let go of the woman whose face looks so afraid just a moment before.


    She can see her hands shuddering in terror, her visage covered in nothing but horror as she sits atop Ana¡¯s body, chanting an incantation unfamiliar to Ana. Questions undoubtedly exist in her mind, yet she¡¯s certain she can ask them later, after she has known something more mundane about the woman.


    Perhaps tomorrow, Ana promises herself before following Quinn to the land of dreams, only to find herself waking up first by anticipation, from the curiosities hanging still on the tips of her tongue.


    Something she quickly swallows the instant she laid eyes to Quinn, resting peacefully in the place Ana last left her. Her expression was open and serene, the body language she displays lacking any guards or the usual thorny remarks she puts up.


    It makes Ana wonder if she can truly see her like this conscious; if she can somehow give her this sense of security and comfort forever, she will be the happiest woman in the world.


    As she ponders for what she needs to do in order to achieve such a thing, Quinn woke up. She starts lazily and slow until she notices Ana. Only then ¡°Morning, Matriarch,¡± Does she speak with a smile and a toothless tease, voice airy with bliss as she slithers up to award Ana an intimate and soft kiss.


    Using everything she has to stop herself from giving chase, Ana can only say: ¡°Good morning, Quinn.¡± In response.


    ¡°Thank you for last night.¡± With her effort made harder ¡°Your touch is so very helpful to me.¡± Through each word that Quinn uttered.


    It forces her tone to be stiffer than she desires. ¡°I am glad to be of assistance, Quinn.¡± Far more formal than what their relationships demands.


    Yet, Quinn merely smirks at the reply, before pushing herself away from Ana. ¡°Well! Do you mind if I go out first today?¡± And swiftly changing the topic before a disappointed sigh can escape from Ana¡¯s mouth.


    Thankful for her, Ana stays silent and allows her to continue. ¡°I have some urgent business, and we both understand them seeing your lady friend wouldn¡¯t do you much good.¡± And finds herself despising Quinn¡¯s tone and choice of words at her last sentence.


    Sitting up. ¡°I am open to the idea of being seen with you, Quinn,¡± Ana replies, earnest. ¡°I do not disdain it.¡± And defensive, hoping Quinn will relent.


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    She doesn¡¯t.


    Instead, Quinn decided to challenge her with a playful grin carved on her face. ¡°But will you like it?¡± And a tinge of anxiety that gives Ana pause, but not for long.


    The moment she gains her wit. ¡°I will,¡± she answers, forceful and honest, expecting another resistance.


    And again, Quinn betrays her. ¡°Next time, then, Ana.¡± Her smile softens into something brighter. ¡°For now: I bid you adieu!¡± As she sneaks away from Ana¡¯s chamber¡ªpresumably to her own¡ªnot noticing Ana''s outstretched hand trying to stop her, an arm she pulls back the instant her door was closed once more.


    Ana doesn¡¯t even know why she¡¯s so desperate to deter Quinn from going away. Yes, it probably has something to do with the fact that they¡¯re now more or less official. However, that doesn¡¯t exactly justify her obsession with the woman.


    An infatuation that lasts long enough throughout her morning that she¡¯s sure it will drive her mad if she doesn¡¯t talk with the target of her adoration soon. Which is why, instead of having breakfast, she¡¯s wandering the ground looking for signs of Quinn.


    It took her a few tries, but she finally manages to do so with plenty of time to spare for breakfast still, although Quinn wasn¡¯t alone the moment she finds her. Ana can only hope that her discussion with King is of no import and can be paused until after breakfast.


    As she walks closer, though, it became clear that not only are their conversation consequential and hostile: it also involves murder. So engrossed they¡¯re in their violent debate that they didn¡¯t hear nor see Ana¡¯s coming until¡ª¡°Matriarch!¡± Quinn greets her to stop King from answering her taunting question.


    Her voice contains such a force that it puts pause to each of them, allowing Quinn to continue. ¡°What are you doing out here in the snow? Not that I am displeased to see you, of course! Merely worried about your health is all.¡± Deftly changing the topic at hand.


    Taking note at the clear unease written on her face, Ana permitted it. ¡°Quinn, King.¡± Starting with a greeting to both parties that answers in kind, despite King¡¯s plainly disgruntled attitude towards Quinn¡¯s success.


    ¡°So, what are you doing here?¡± Quinn repeats, reminding Ana of her question as King attempt to speak.


    Ana looks at the man for a moment before returning her attention to Quinn. ¡°I would like to invite you to break your fast with me, if you would be so kind.¡± Acknowledging her with a guarded optimism in her tone.


    Fortunately, even before Quinn can reply; from the way Quinn smiles at her offer, Ana knew she has nothing to worry about. Especially not the instant Quinn shouts her answer: ¡°Oh, Ana! It will entirely be my pleasure!¡±


    ¡°Good,¡± she responds, returning her attention back to King, hesitating just a moment before she speaks again. ¡°Would you care to join us?¡± Extending the same invitation to him who eyes her with an almost amused smirk.


    A grin that breaks into a genuine laugh after a second pass. ¡°Oh, Matriarch! Please! I would never get in between two young women in love.¡± As he gave his answers in earnest. ¡°Do enjoy your breakfast.¡± And walking away.


    ¡°Ah, King! Always such an understanding friend,¡± Quinn comments when King was out of earshot, causing Ana to raise her eyebrows in question. ¡°Is that why you¡¯re fighting with him?¡±


    ¡°Oh, Ana. That¡¯s not a fight, we¡¯re just greeting each other passionately.¡±


    ¡°I see.¡±


    ¡°Mhm!¡± Quinn nods, clearly glad to end that topic. Then. ¡°Now!¡± She offers her hand to Ana with an excited expression. ¡°Let¡¯s go get that breakfast you so sweetly promise!¡± Carving an amused smile on Ana''s face as she takes it.

 Chapter 25 - Flower Trampled, Part 04

    ¡°Can you pass me the salt?¡± Quinn asked, stretching her hand towards Ana who response by simply giving her the container and sitting patiently to the side, watching Quinn intently with a tinge of surprise.


    She can understand why, of course: nobody expects Quinn to be great at cooking. Decent, perhaps; good, even. But great would require to be a little less harsh and wicked in their eyes.


    Though, clearly their presumption has no impact on her skill as she masterfully navigates the vast kitchen of the temple, using the ingredients available to them in the hope of impressing Ana further.


    It reminds her to thank whoever it was that eat all of the food in the mess hall, allowing them to spend more time together in a setting that¡¯s not her office or bedroom chamber.


    Not that she hates spending time with her there, of course. She simply wants to spend a lot more of her life with the woman, possibly the rest of it if she can afford it.


    With that in mind, she displays a few acrobatics for Ana, entertaining her as she continues making her third favorite dish in the hope of sharing them with the woman.


    She would make her her top preference, but they don¡¯t have the best cut of meat on hand, and Quinn rebuffs the idea to serve that kind of thing for the mouth that has given her so many pleasures, in a great many ways.


    Refusing to let such a train of thought persist when she needs to focus entirely on the food, Quinn shakes her head and seeks distraction somewhere else; hoping it will be less wildly passionate than the images in her psyche.


    ¡°So, Ana,¡± she begins, still stirring the vegetables on the wok carefully. ¡°Any reason you seek me out for breakfast today?¡± Hoping Ana will follow on the pleasant but ultimately meaningless and low stake conversation.


    Unfortunately, Ana was never one for meaningless and low stake conversation. Quinn doesn¡¯t know how the woman does it, though she¡¯s sure her uptight attitude and upright posture reminiscence of military members aren¡¯t helpful.


    ¡°I wanted to share a table with you,¡± she says with a straight face, disbarring Quinn from even teasing her honesty. ¡°With my romantic partner, is that not what people do?¡± Easily turning the table.


    It forces an embarrassed chuckle out of Quinn before she can answer: ¡°It is!¡± Widening her smile, tracing after the flow of the conversation still. ¡°Why? Aren¡¯t you one of those people?¡± Poking harmless fun at her while she was at it.


    However, Ana doesn¡¯t seem to share her thinking. The woman was silent for a long time, sinking deep in thought clearly triggered by Quinn¡¯s question. Until finally, she whispers her response: ¡°I¡¯m presumably not.¡± Unsure.


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    ¡°That kind of person?¡± Quinn asked, worries creasing her brows.


    And Ana obliges her an answer: ¡°Any kind of person, Quinn.¡±


    The counter and the surety by which she said it gave Quinn pause. The woman is serious, that much is obvious, and that makes Quinn feel terrible. Despite that, her instinctual reaction to outright deny it must be quenched, she doesn¡¯t know the woman enough to persuade her out of that strong belief she clearly held for herself.


    Which is why she takes her time, turning off the stove and putting the dishes on the table before she dares make a move.


    The moment she sits down, she picks up a spoonful of her stir-fried vegetables and offer it to Ana in silence, with only a vague smirk playing on her lips to clue Ana to how serious Quinn is on her offer.


    When Ana takes it, Quinn grins widen. ¡°I think you¡¯re one of the most¡ªif indeed not¡ªthe kindest and most resplendent person I ever have the pleasure to meet, Ana.¡± Delivering her own judgment with no trickery or sarcasm dripping in the word.


    Ana doesn¡¯t respond, but she nods as she takes her own plate, beginning their breakfast in earnest soon before lunch. Their conversation flows easily, then, with Quinn apparently free enough to accompany her throughout the day the instant Ana mention the fact that she has no private meeting to host today.


    As the days passed and became shorter and shorter, the time they spent together became longer and longer. None of them are ashamed of each other anymore, their relationships becoming an open secret to the temple and the whole battlement.


    This has caused a few members of the soldiery to look at Quinn with obvious jealousy in their eyes, a circumstance that she has used entirely to her benefit and entertainment as she playfully mocks them each chance she gets, daring them to do something drastic about their predicament.


    On the opposite site of the army they¡¯re stationed with are Ana¡¯s colleagues, who all offers them both congratulations and wishes of happy days ahead with an expression earnest and voice lacking deceit, it made Quinn wonders if any of them ever actually lie to achieve their goal.


    A curiosity that is easily answered by how frank Ana was throughout the day, and how honest her reaction is at night. A reaction she unfortunately has to wait a bit longer to see tonight, for Ana has a sudden meeting that evening.


    Though, encouragingly; she knew exactly where this clandestine meeting of hers was being held, considering she deliver Ana there herself. And if Ana desire her as much as she yearns for the woman, then surely she won¡¯t be opposed to find Quinn outside of the conference room discussion.


    Accompanied by such a bright idea, Quinn marches out of her door with spring in her steps, finding little need for skulduggery when people have known of their relationships for weeks now.


    There¡¯s nothing weird about her leaning against the wall, occasionally catching hushed conversation behind the enchanted double door, the charm not being good enough to dispel Quinn¡¯s own.


    Nor is the screaming helpful.


    ¡°She¡¯s trying to kill you, Matriarch! That has always been her plan!¡±


    ¡°Do you have proof of this?¡±


    ¡°Yes, we¡¯ve managed to intercept a letter addressed to her by a person we suspect to be the Crown Prince of Adelheid.¡±


    Quinn¡¯s eye widen in horror as she takes a step back, only one thought reverberates through her mind: I need to run.


    She has failed herself, in large part due to her employer impatience, but she¡¯s unsuccessful nonetheless. She can invent excuses and taste regret later before investigating the reasoning behind her failures and crafting a way to overcome it soon after.


    For now, she must run like the fool that she is.


    After all, there¡¯s nothing to love about a worm.

 Chapter 26 - Flower Trampled, Part 05

    Ana watches Quinn¡¯s hand carefully before finally deciding to take a bite, causing Quinn¡¯s smile to widen into something far more honest and softer than what she has shown today as she speaks. ¡°I think you¡¯re one of the most¡ªif indeed not¡ªthe kindest and most resplendent person I ever have the pleasure to meet, Ana.¡± In a voice kind and earnest.


    She knew what the woman tries to do, she¡¯s trying to convince her that the value of her life wasn¡¯t less nor greater than any other. And she believed her. A danger to her mission and sworn purpose.


    Yet, she can¡¯t find it in herself to rebuff Quinn, so she only nods; unsure of herself. Something that Quinn seems to notice and takes into account when she moves their subject to something lighter.


    They talk now of the past, present, and future. Their eyes glimmering the most when the future came up, implicit in their words are promises to always be there for each other.


    The kind of topic that causes hotness to her stomach as adrenaline pushes further and urges Ana to fight through the doubt just so she could be with Quinn, something that she finally listens to.


    The scandals and woe that she¡¯s sure will visit them no longer cloud her mind as she takes Quinn¡¯s hand onto her own when they walk out of the kitchen together to spend their day and night without shame.


    Such an openness of their relationship eventually sparked enough stirs for her colleagues and the army they¡¯re attached to to say their congratulations and warm wishes, something that sincerely fills her heart with joy.


    Unfortunately, the people of equal or of superior position to her have an exact opposite reaction to the news. Each of them, including King, Adder, and the senior circle of priests and paladins under her command gave individual admonition at every opportunity they have.


    Warnings that Ana has largely ignored, helped immensely by Quinn¡¯s overwhelming presence and the way her mouth can make her feel all the positive emotions she can imagine through the dexterity of her tongue alone.


    A favor she wishes to return tonight when she¡¯s suddenly called to an emergency meeting by everyone that has whispered caution to her ears. She almost denied the invitation when she looks at the disappointment hidden deep beneath Quinn¡¯s verdant green eye, but decide against it.


    ¡°I won¡¯t be long,¡± she promises before moving away.


    ¡°And I will be waiting!¡± Quinn replied in kind, allowing Ana some peace of mind as she walks into an assembly unplanned by her while it became clear that the people already in the room have planned for this confrontation since the beginning.


    There¡¯s King, resting with an almost apologetic smile to his face; General Adder on the other side, trying his best to tone his scowl into something more neutral; and the senior staff of her entourage with definite dislike for the choices she made this far.


    Though, at the very least: they have the courtesy to wait until she sits down before they admonish her. ¡°You¡¯ve been distracted from your duty this winter, Matriarch,¡± one of the comments, clear censure on his voice.


    And she can¡¯t even deny it, for it was true. But surely, the Goddess Mother of the World will understand, She is Love, after all. Ana tries to justify the action using the same reasoning she has utilized the moment she invited Quinn to her bed, failing to realize the logical conclusion of such rationale.


    Seeing her silence as the admittance of guilt, another opens his mouth to continue the scolding. ¡°We mean no disrespect, Matriarch. You¡¯ve been a great asset to us and your fellow mortals, but since you met this wench¡ª¡±


    Ana flinch at the word, as if the insult was directed at her. It boils her usually calms blood, almost forcing her tongue to action; defending her lover before King cuts her off with an apologetic smile.


    ¡°What I¡ªand I presume everyone else in this room meant to say, Matriarch,¡± he began, trying to change the topic and lift some conflict away from the air. ¡°Is that, we¡¯re worried that the woman, Quinn ¡®Airgid¡¯ Nathair, has approached you for motives not pure nor kind.¡±


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    Ana knew, of course; but she always gives Quinn the benefit of the doubt, as she does with any other person. Which is why. ¡°And the motive being, Mr. King?¡± Ana asked for clarification.


    Something that King almost told her before another paladin cuts him off with a shout that will earn him reproach and vitriol in any other situation, considering he directed it straight to the Matriarch of the Temple. ¡°She¡¯s trying to kill you, Matriarch! That has always been her plan!¡± Unfortunate and fortunately for everyone involved, this was no common circumstance.


    His accusation has weight, even if it was fairly diminished by the amount of hate he seemingly holds for Quinn. The kind of disdain that Ana tries her best to ignore as she continues the conversation: ¡°Do you have proof of this?¡±


    Finally, General Adder speaks in the affirmative. ¡°Yes, we¡¯ve managed to intercept a letter addressed to her by a person we suspect to be the Crown Prince of Adelheid.¡±


    ¡°Would you kindly show this letter to me?¡±


    Again, he nods, passing the paper around until it ultimately reached Ana with the seals opened, but the words hidden still by the thick envelope it arrived with. Vellum, Ana notices. It makes sense they would think the missive came from the Crown Prince.


    Dread climbs her spine as she slowly pulls the document out, terrified of what she will read; of the truth that awaits. And of Quinn¡¯s reaction to her distrust. The instant her crestfallen face passes in her head, Ana stops and rises, shoving the letter deep inside her pocket.


    Adopting the authority that was hers. ¡°I will consider this matter greatly,¡± she declares. ¡°Tomorrow.¡± In a tone that brooks no argument as she walks away, unwilling still of letting go even as it became obvious to her that she has made the wrong decision.


    A clarity that was clouded once she met her orbs with Quinn, who was standing motionless in front of the door with wild eyes and legs recoiled back, ready to spring away at a moment¡¯s notice.


    Ana can guess the reason, the kinds of accusations leveled against her was one that would require lifetime incarceration at best and execution by drowning at worst. Though, it seems like that¡¯s not the only cause she¡¯s pale and cold.


    Nor is she the only one being pale and cold. Longing for her warmth, Ana approach carefully, trying her best to appear non-threatening to Quinn who watches her with distrust until they¡¯re but a hairsbreadth away from each other.


    ¡°Let¡¯s proceed back to our chamber, Quinn,¡± she offers her hand, swallowing all questions and doubts that were soon dispelled when Quinn takes her hand with a fake cheer to her face, but a smile nonetheless.


    Their walk back was quiet, the both of them deep in thought about the revelation that has been put forth against their relationship. Ana doesn¡¯t even understand why she desires the woman so, why it brings her great pleasure when she moans her name in ecstasy, or why she¡¯s disappointed to find her gone the next morning.


    Last night, they¡¯ve been so desperate for each other¡¯s embrace, to explore every contour of their body like a cartographer trying to accurately draw a map. Perhaps it was because they both know it will be the final time they¡¯re so vulnerable with one another.


    Upon the first light, with her fragrance still lingering heavily on her chamber, Ana took out the letter given to her as proof and read the truth of her folly.


    ¡°Ms. Nathair,


    It has come to our attention that you¡¯ve become involved with the woman, something that we ought to congratulate you on if not for the fact that she was the target we have hired you to put to rest.


    We would understand if such a dalliance is a mere trickery, a cunning play to gain her trust before you prematurely end her life. However, according to our own informants, that has not been the case.


    The words they chose to describe your actions, and the way you¡¯ve ignored our attempts at correspondence has unfortunately led us to no other conclusion than to the reality that not only will you fail to perform your task, but you shall do so willingly.


    Considering this, you¡¯ve forced our hands. With great respect, should you be unable to bury her before spring as you¡¯ve vowed, we will introduce this matter to the Temple of Fate and hold you to your obligation by pure coercion.¡±


    With every sentence read, it became clear how foolishly Ana has been behaving. She has trusted a snake, allowed it to roost upon her heart, and now it¡¯s going to bring about her downfall.


    She must act. Surely, she must act. Not for her safety, but because it was her duty to apprehend her. Yet, the feeling of doubt lingers. By the way the letter wrote it, it seems that Quinn was unwilling to¡ªno! She shakes her head violently, erasing the thought and stopping the tears.


    She has done enough frivolities, it¡¯s high time for her to work.


    Forcing her mind to think only of the people she cares about¡ªexcept Quinn¡ªshe stands, plan already in hand.


    Quinn¡¯s reputation for wet work has no equal, and so shall her preparation be. She will require a few days to orchestrate her capture and eventual execution. Until the moment comes, all she needs to do was feign ignorance while instructing the others behind the scenes.


    She only has to pretend to still be in love with the woman, to still enjoy her smile and laughter even as she projects her demise in the background.


    Yes, it will all be nothing but a charade, she lies.

 Chapter 27 - Love Buried, Part 01

    Quinn wakes up early in the morning by force of training. She¡¯s alert, she knew something was wrong, that the gaping maw she stares down at just yesterday night was going to close in on her and bites; swallowing her forever.


    Yet, here she is. In the embrace of her target, enjoying the warm hug of her enemy, daring to hope. It has been such a long time since she dared, but she wants to. For reasons that put fear and bliss both in her heart, she wishes with all of her might that she can trust Ana to have confidence in her.


    After all, she was honest and straightforward. Even if she doesn¡¯t feel the same way as Quinn, she at least trusts her enough to invite her back to her room after such a revelation by her closest allies and advisers.


    With that in mind, Quinn carefully pulls herself away from Ana, squashing down all regrets and doubts as she also puts back the letter from the Crown Prince¡ªher impatient and arrogant client¡ªto where she originally found it.


    She was sure Ana won¡¯t be persuaded by it, it was obvious that the letter seeks to force Quinn¡¯s hands, all they need to do is to find a way out of it together, and they will be fine.


    Quinn smiles at that idea, the idea that she no longer has to be alone, pretending she enjoys being looked upon with disdain, having all interactions ends up being nothing but hostile power play.


    Still, the smile fades as she steels herself for the small chance Ana will betray her, an idea that cuts deep into her soul as she walks away, thinking of all the ways she can escape and end her in the process.


    That kind of thinking moves her body into action, giving her reasons to be prepared not just to face Ana; but the entire battlements and escapes with her life. She has a few ideas already growing in her skull, she just needs a dozen more.


    Each one of them must be simpler than the last, to make sure there¡¯s as little need for the contingencies to be activated at all. She has walked the fortress enough times to know all the escapes, to recognize the route which the soldiers take when they keep watch.


    Still, she does it again. Measure twice, cut once. And it helps, she notices small differences in their pattern and on the way they look at her. She thinks it¡¯s a mistake at first, paranoia born out of a mind too focused on a task, a liability at a place so full of potential enemies.


    However, Ana confirms her worst fear the next day they meet.


    They both have been busy with their own business, with Ana trapped in a great many meetings and Quinn preparing herself for the worst outcome she can imagine in the entirety of her adult life.


    There, on the next afternoon, Ana seeks Quinn out again before she can get out of the encampment to recheck the surrounding areas and how deeply the winter had affected them.


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    Her offer was simple. ¡°Do you mind sharing the table with me again this afternoon?¡± And undeniable.


    With a smile, ¡°But, of course!¡± Quinn accepted in a mock bow, hiding a sincere mirth brewing on her face. ¡°Let us!¡± Something that is gone when she reaches out and Ana stiffen on her hand, instead of relaxing.


    When Quinn tries to look at her face, she avoids the gaze instead, forcing Quinn into a corner of genuine confusion. Did she believe them? Is she afraid of me? Why is she acting like this?


    A million questions pass through her brain with every step they take. Though, when Ana closes her door and they both have been seated, there¡¯s only one way she can express them.


    ¡°Ana!¡±


    ¡°Yes?¡± she replied, her voice so innocent Quinn almost believe her lie.


    ¡°Have I¡­ done something to antagonize you? Is this about me leaving the bed?¡±


    ¡°No,¡± she answers as she begins to eat, clearly signaling for Quinn to stop pursuing the topic, something that she does with a nod and a fake cheer. ¡°Alright, then!¡± As she starts their usual ritual of small talks.


    And again, signs that cause alarm to sounds in Quinn¡¯s head rises. The woman was answering her, though only politely. The interest she holds for the conversation is seemingly out of pity more than anything else.


    The same are true for their conversation after and their nightly activities. For a fortnight their ritual stands, but it stands empty. The candle wasn¡¯t lit, the feeling that causes flutters in her stomach wasn¡¯t gone, but churned and turned into something else.


    Quinn understands why, though she didn¡¯t dare to leave; finding the thought of being so far from Ana, whose touch these past weeks have been nothing but cold and practiced, almost bored: frostbite to the blossoming love in Quinn¡¯s heart.


    As the realization dawns on Quinn, she breathes a heavy sigh.


    There¡¯s no more denying it, she¡¯s indeed fond of the woman.


    Not just because of the contour of her face, the shape of her breast, the way their skin mingles and connects perfectly like it was always meant to be. It wasn¡¯t just because how kind she has been treating Quinn, how willing she¡¯s to die for her, how despite all the tough and cold behavior, she¡¯s still one of the most thoughtful and loving person Quinn ever has the pleasure to meet.


    Though, clearly, she has expected too much, too soon, and for far too little of a price. And while the woman trusts her still, she already knew Quinn was hiding something from her, and so does her council.


    Secrets that even now, after they¡¯ve seen each other naked and vulnerable, Quinn still guards jealously as if her life were entirely dependent on it. Perhaps they are, yet Quinn couldn¡¯t find it in her to care, not anymore.


    Secrets that she shall now use as payment.


    She will bare herself free of masks and affectations, discarding all expectations and notions; so that she may see her true and unbidden, and judge her solely upon that.


    With that thought in mind, Quinn stands up from the bed they share and walk to Ana¡¯s side. The woman was sleeping peacefully still, a sign of confidence that makes Quinn feel more optimistic about her plan.


    Accompanied by that warm feeling. ¡°Ana.¡± She gently shakes her until she¡¯s awake.


    ¡°Quinn?¡± she answers, motes of dream floating through her word still.


    ¡°Yes.¡±


    ¡°Is there something you need?¡±


    ¡°A quick talk, if you don¡¯t mind.¡±


    ¡°I do not,¡± she swiftly sits up and drags herself back with caution coloring her face, giving Quinn a space to sit on the bed again.


    Trying her best to ignore such an expression. ¡°Thank you!¡± Quinn continues trudging forward, finding herself unwilling to stop the very thing that she has started in the hope of salvaging their relationship.


    Ana nods, allowing Quinn to begin by pulling out a knife from thin air with a self-deprecating smile as she asks: ¡°Now! Do you trust me, Ana?¡±

 Chapter 28 - Love Buried, Part 02

    The session has concluded with a plan solid and hopefully Quinn-proofed, something King has assured the room would be nigh impossible to do but doesn¡¯t complain as they begin preparing around and for her known abilities and methods.


    At the end of the day, after each and every meeting has been done: the people that admonished her for her decision has come around and see it as a key part of the motion.


    In essence, they want her to lure Quinn to her doom. Them, the individuals that a night ago has claimed that Quinn held no feelings for her but ill, desires nothing but her undoing; an assertion that has caused her some distress, for reasons mysterious even to her.


    Only King and General Adder have enough dignity to apologize to her, yet even then: she can¡¯t help but despise them for what they¡¯re asking her to do. The lies, the trickery, the conspiracy they¡¯re going to perform just to kill a young woman.


    However, Ana knew it was more than that. The young woman was no stranger to her, almost the exact opposite, in fact. She can recognize her blind and deaf by the deft touch of her hand alone, through the way her body curves and the myriad of scars that covers them, each with a unique story Quinn are always so eager to tell.


    Ana doesn¡¯t wish to be the one that delivers a killing blow to such a delicate yet resilient body. But she must. Because it was Ana¡¯s duty, and she was her charge.


    Yes, she convinces herself. We¡¯re only an obligation to each other. As she walks towards Quinn, following the plan of assuring her that Ana still trusts her. Nothing more.


    ¡°Do you mind sharing the table with me again this afternoon?¡± she asked, voice lower than she intended due to overcorrection.


    And it hurts her when Quinn smiles at her open and sincere. When she answers. ¡°But, of course!¡± Ana can only nod in reply and begin strolling away before Quinn takes her hand in hers. ¡°Let us!¡±


    An action that would¡¯ve softened Ana¡¯s down in any other situation but this. At the kind touch of her calloused hand, Ana¡¯s mind is burning bright ablaze with questions, the most important one being: will she still hold me so gently knowing what I¡¯ve planned for her in the background?


    When the answer came quickly to the obvious negative, she stiffens as hurt travels from her chest to the rest of her body. The kind of torment that worsens when she catches Quinn¡¯s gaze, forcing her head away in the hope that the ache will subside when they finally eat.


    It doesn¡¯t.


    In fact. ¡°Ana!¡± It only intensifies the moment Quinn begin their conversation with a pained hitch in her voice carefully hidden for most people that aren¡¯t Ana.


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    A tone that softens Ana¡¯s own as she answers. ¡°Yes?¡±


    Something that seems to help with Quinn nervous energy. ¡°Have I... done something to antagonize you? Is this about me leaving the bed?¡± For her sentences are surer, as if she has taken a step forwards Ana in a show of trust.


    Something that Ana can only respond in one way.


    With the aid of winter. ¡°No,¡± she speaks in stone, finality upon her tongue.


    By word alone. ¡°I see. Alright, then!¡± She has compelled Quinn to stop, quenched all mirth from her heart as she tries to start, beginning their usual small talk; and Ana ruined further by allowing herself to be smothered by guilt, stifling her replies.


    The penitence soared as she continues to interact with the woman, dousing whatever feeling there are in all of their activities together in remorse she can¡¯t even confess or apologize for.


    Each time it roots down, she repeats her mantra to herself. That it was a job, that this is a task performed for the sake of the temple and everyone she cares about and nothing else.


    Yet, when the regret deepened enough to punch holes in their intimacy, when Quinn grew colder alongside her, when the woman¡¯s touch became distant and false; a mere facsimile of the real thing: Ana can¡¯t help but suffer, her heart filled to the brim with a desire to do something, anything.


    Such a wish even begin haunting her dream, with an image of them coiling together in a way Ana¡¯s unable to ignore, the affection causing their faces to glow with such a bliss that it makes Ana wonder, is that really how they look together before?


    ¡°Ana.¡± The Quinn of her fantasy whispers, prematurely silencing her train of thought with a dazzling smile. The voice sounds so real in her ears that she almost believed it to be¡ª¡°Quinn.¡± She stops herself, awaken to find the woman kneeling in front of her, her visage cradled handsomely by the winter moon.


    It makes her looks angelic, nearly innocent if not for the shine of fear and hesitance in her verdant green eye. ¡°Yes.¡± As she answers with an easy smile.


    ¡°Is there something you need?¡± she asked. Are you having a bad dream? Swallowing her follow-up question whole.


    ¡°A quick talk, if you don''t mind.¡±


    Sensing the urgency in her voice. ¡°I don¡¯t.¡± Ana shakes of the drowsiness as she swiftly rises and sits, pulling herself back to give Quinn room to climb up again, should she wish to do so.


    ¡°Thank you!¡± She does, Ana nods.


    And after another round of doubt, she summons a dagger. ¡°Now! Do you trust me, Ana?¡± And delivers a question that Ana almost instinctively answers in the affirmative before she catches a hold of herself.


    Quinn¡¯s body language makes her look smaller than she is. However, the expression that dances on her lips, the way she grasps the blade playfully in front of Ana. It points only to one truth.


    ¡°¡­ Quinn?¡± A fact that causes fear to seeps deep into every crevice of her body, seizing control of all corners of her heart. Not for herself, but for Quinn¡¯s feelings of her.


    After all, she knew of her plan, and now shall take her life for it as payment for the betrayal. A trade Ana would gladly accept, a fair penitence for her crime. If only she has no job to do, no obligation to others.


    But she does. So, she cast the spell. ¡°Ana? What¡¯s¡ª¡± Cutting off Quinn with a powerful blast of divine energy as she sounds the silent alarm they have painstakingly sets up exactly for this situation.


    A three-week preparation is the perfect amount of time, a fortnight should be more than enough to subdue Quinn, now sitting on the floor with a gaze directed downwards, trying to hide the sad smirk carved into her lips by a streak of hurt.


    ¡°I see,¡± she whispers, disappointed.

 Chapter 29 - Love Buried, Part 03

    Quinn was no worm; the strike reminds her of that. Her frame was solidly built, stout and trustworthy in its flexibility to get her out of any situations she¡¯s having too much confidence in.


    She can hear the silent alarm ringing through her left ear, having modified them for this exact reason. It sounds like the knell of death, but it doesn¡¯t toll for her. She alters her body for this precise purpose, after all.


    Taking a deep breath, Quinn steel her golden heart as she shields herself with her left arm for Ana¡¯s next attack. The machinery inside of it stirs awake, absorbing the spell¡¯s energy with hunger.


    Swiftly, they came to life, lighting up the acid-etched rune in a sinister purple glow. Yet, her expression darkens as she stands up, her smile turns sharper and jagged, like that of a predator that has cornered her prey.


    ¡°It was unfortunate that it has come to this, Ana,¡± she mocks as she takes a roll towards her discarded armor to dodge another one of her attacks. ¡°I hope you believe me when I say.¡± Finding the device inside and throwing it to the center of the room. ¡°That this will pain me as much as it does you.¡±


    It explodes in a multitude of colorful sparks, upholding an illusion of infinite for a moment before it settles, enchanting the whole chamber; trapping them together until the next hour.


    Finally, Quinn changes, allowing the scar underneath her left eye to connect with the rest of the engraving on her left upper body, creating a cascade of effects that causes her prostheses to whirs wildly.


    She twists the ceremonial dagger¡ªsomething she meant to use to vow her life to the woman, officially binding them together by a thread of fate¡ªinto a more aggressive position: to kill and maim.


    Ana has been kind enough to give her time, busying herself trying figuring out what malediction has befallen their beloved bedroom chamber. Recognizing this confusion as a chance to push her luck, Quinn¡¯s body spring into action.


    Her physique, well trained and tortured by the world are inches away from Ana before the woman finally notices her, barely managing to defend herself with a magical shield that fries from Quinn¡¯s artificial suppressors. It shatters, certainly¡ªbut they¡¯re still quite powerful and last for a fairly long period to make a difference.


    What should have been a fatal strike to shoulder that disables one of her hands became a mere graze that draws blood and true terror to Ana¡¯s eyes. A fear that was heightened when she can hear the banging on the door.


    ¡°Matriarch!¡± King¡¯s scream, his voice familiar to Quinn¡¯s ears. ¡°Just hold on a little longer! We will get to you!¡± Trying his best to reassure Ana as they continue struggling to break down the spell by means mundane and magical to no avail.


    Everyone knew the conclusion to the fight just a few minutes after it began. However, the only one accepting the defeat is Ana and Quinn at the moment, for everybody outside are correct in their hopes of Quinn¡¯s demise if they manage to get in.


    Which is why they won¡¯t.


    Quinn was in control, and Ana can do nothing except retreating from her. A venomous snake that has entrapped the moon and now shall swallow it whole, sinking its fangs deep into the celestial body and turning it into naught but rock and rubble.


    Such a thought should please her, it¡¯s a vindication of her effort, a proof that specializing in murdering spellcasters is the best choice she has made since the last time someone betrayed her.


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    Yet, it doesn¡¯t.


    Instead, she feels vile bile rises from her stomach as she coils and dashes forwards again, chasing Ana that tries her best to defend against Quinn¡¯s constant attacks while sneaking in one or two offensives of her own.


    The woman sometimes succeeded, obviously. Some of the assaults harm her, another wound her deeper and will leave a permanent scar, but none of them puts her slowed her down or even dazed her.


    Quinn was relentless and unforgiving, only giving a breath to her opponent so she could mock her playfully. ¡°Why don¡¯t you try teleporting away, Matriarch?¡± Her smile is cruel and hurtful, edging her to do something she has already attempted and failed to do.


    Ana never answers her taunts, straining herself to keep her consciousness as Quinn quite literally bleeds her dry. Go down. Quinn begs. Please, just give up. But the woman doesn¡¯t listen, aching Quinn¡¯s heart further as she continues.


    Until finally, with Ana¡¯s back against the wall, Quinn catch a hold of her shoulder to stop her from falling down and injure her head. In a tone pleading and desperate. ¡°Why do you think you can win against me?¡± she asked.


    She takes her moment to respond, leaning her head against Quinn¡¯s chest as she stabilizes her breaths before she realizes what she¡¯s doing and quickly pulls away, almost hitting her head against the wall if not for Quinn¡¯s interception.


    In her arms. ¡°I¡¯m not so arrogant as to believe myself your equal, Quinn,¡± she answers. Trailing her fingers along Quinn¡¯s left shoulder with a tinge of wistfulness in her touch, as kind and warm as Quinn first remembers it.


    Until it stops right above her heart, alarming Quinn to the woman¡¯s true intention as she continues: ¡°I simply have a job to do.¡± Forcing her hand to move until the dagger she holds are but a whisper away from slicing her neck, merely hovering there when she realizes that nothing happens to her heart.


    ¡°Then why don¡¯t you do it, Ana? Why don¡¯t you drive that divine stake through my heart and murder me like the beast you thought I am?¡±


    ¡°Why don¡¯t you, Quinn?¡±


    Their orbs burn with anger and hatred to cover the gentleness they¡¯ve held so dearly for each other, both unwilling to budge and answers the other with a truth they¡¯ve known since long before their fighting begun.


    For an instant in the eternity of creation, there are only the two of them: bloodied, tired, and teary-eyed. Quinn has never seen Ana so weak and vulnerable, not even when she has given her literal heart to her; and Ana has never seen Quinn so afraid, not since the day she founds her on the bedside of her hospital bed.


    If only they have another moment, they can reach out and¡ª¡°Matriarch!¡± Nothing, because they¡¯re enemies, because they no longer have another time to spend together, not after this.


    When Quinn reaches out, it was to electrocute Ana, rendering her inert and unconscious. Carefully, she catches her body before it falls to the floor and lay her upon her own bed.


    She still has enough time to dress and draw the teleportation circle, knowing full well her target destination has their own permanent circle that is always open to those that knew its code.


    However, before anything else, she dresses herself quickly, strapping back all of her armors into place while ignoring the fresh wounds and magical burns she got from Ana. The woman was no match for her, certainly¡ªbut it doesn¡¯t mean she¡¯s incapable of hurting her, in more ways than one.


    With Ana once again filling her mind, her focus naturally falls to the woman, lying limply on her bed, coloring it red. Something that Quinn shouldn¡¯t care about, but she does.


    The moment she finishes drawing the teleportation circle, she searches Ana¡¯s chamber for clothing and a healer¡¯s kit of some kind, easily finding both due to how frequently she visits her.


    Attentively, she undresses her and begins tending to her wounds. Most of them are artificial, and Quinn sincerely couldn¡¯t know whether or not it happens because Ana¡¯s defenses are strong, or Quinn unintentionally went easy on her.


    Though, if she¡¯s pushed to guess, it¡¯s a combination of both.


    In her habit, underneath the light of the moon, Ana looks beatific and dazzling, stealing Quinn¡¯s breaths away before she forcefully tears her eye elsewhere. Her spell will soon naturally disintegrate, and she has no desire to still be here to face the entire battlements, clerics, paladins, and King.


    So, with Ana in hand, she walks to the center of the teleportation circle, waiting until her previous conjuration has completely gone before she activates it.


    Only then, when the army finally manages to break through the door and windows with weapons unsheathed and ready, does she trigger them, covering her and Ana in a brilliant blue before they disappeared.

 Chapter 30 - A False Burial, Part 01

    The weather worsens, the day grew shorter and shorter. The guards that stand at attention on the dungeon floor shivers from the wind that manage to infiltrate the heavy stones.


    Worryingly, he gazes towards Ana, contained in the only filled cell in the dungeon, moved there by the insistence of the crown prince and his aids after she was delivered by Quinn herself.


    Quinn, who now walks away from Ana¡¯s compartment with an almost sardonic smile to her face if not for the real pain that colors her verdant green eye. The sort of ache that inspires Ana¡¯s body to stir by itself, trying to reach out before a cough caught her off guard.


    The dungeon was colder and damper than the prison cell was, something Ana didn¡¯t imagine being possible until today. Then again, she also doesn¡¯t believe herself capable of surviving Quinn a week ago, but today proves her wrong all the same.


    Though, if Ana was forced to guess, it was less because of her herself, and more because of Quinn¡¯s capriciousness. Does she think me weak enough to spill military secrets? Knowledgeable enough to be useful tortured? Talented enough to be forced to work for their forces? Or did she actually¡ªno!


    With great effort, she shakes her head violently, refusing to give Quinn any place in her head and heart any more than necessary, which is none. Unfortunate that the both of them disagree with her judgment.


    The moment she closes her eyes, she sees her life flashing before her. She can see the wonder they claim to signify her sanctity, how close she was to her own spiritual core; words she doesn¡¯t understand the meaning of then, but knew what they symbolize from the shines of their eyes.


    They look at her with reverence as they whisper worship into her ears, winning her from her parents with a handsome bank note, to be taken forever to a hall that is built to listen to the universe.


    She can hear herself crying and begging, not for release but for a proof that she was a miracle, for the capability to move it to another soul, one brighter and more deserving. She can feel the vow she took shortly after took a deep root in her psyche.


    And at the end of the journey, after the people she cares about having met her again and notices the stiffness in her posture, the formality in her words; they began abandoning her to loneliness.


    One by one, their compassionate warmth no longer touches her, leaving an emptiness as bitter and biting as the late winter wind blowing on the wilderness, freezing her spirit in hurt.


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    Shivers travel her spine down from her brain with that mental image in mind, slowly injecting every cell with memories more familiar and recent.


    It starts with the most passionate. In her dimly lit chambers, they kiss and explore each other¡¯s body, moaning into their mouth in ecstasy, the bliss and sweat they permeate blocks away even the cruelest of storms.


    Then, it turns kinder; softer, more intimate. Ana remembers sitting on her lap, how awkward she begins acting and how attentively she looks after her comfort in the bitter winter, as if she would break at a mere whisper of the wind.


    Perhaps she does.


    Ana remembers holding her hand, calloused and scarred but welcoming all the same; she remembers her voice, the way it rises and lowers alongside emotions she¡¯s so careful to hide; she remembers her eye, a dull verdant green that burns bright when she truly smiles.


    A charmingly intoxicating smirk, rough and roguish, yes, but also honest and open; as if she¡¯s offering to Ana to be kept forever in a jar to entertain herself in a cold and rainy days.


    Maybe she has done so.


    For she can¡¯t imagine the woman to put on such a childish grin again, not after what Ana has done. The streak of hurt that slashes across her face as she smiles fills Ana with guilt still, the way her voice crack into a pit of disappointment with no surprise.


    With a week to think of her action, Ana doesn¡¯t even know why she has done such a thing. The woman merely asked if I trust her, and I do, so why do I attack her? Why couldn¡¯t I simply be honest and hear her? What if she truly only has nightmares? What if she indeed needs my help that night? Why must we¡ªthe rattling of her chain stops her thought.


    They¡¯re infernal in nature, acid-etched with primordial runes to dampen her magical capabilities into nothingness as long as they bind all of her functional limbs, the identical treatment was placed into her holding cell, with every corner of it painted in another enchantment to ensure her incarceration.


    The people that painted it, the guards that put her in chains, all look apologetic enough when they meet her eyes; signaling their unwillingness, the fact that their hand has been forced by duty.


    The very same thing that causes Ana to attack.


    As the realization sinks into the pit of her stomach and lies there, still; Ana follows. Her body doesn¡¯t move, her eyes stare unblinking and hard to restraints they¡¯ve placed on her.


    A new question circles her mind now, was duty worth it?


    And with everything she has done for duty, all the activities she has avoided, each thing she has given up for it, there¡¯s only one correct answer: it does. Surely, it does. Because if it doesn¡¯t, then¡ªshe takes a hitched breath, tears slowly trailing down her cheeks as the worst of punishment plays out in her brain.


    A reminder of her warmth, the furtive and shy smile she has shown her in the comfort of her own chamber, the earnest eagerness she holds to spent time with Ana, the food she cooks.


    Her girlfriend and all of her that was once Ana; the whole that she has given up on and will never again attain. If duty wasn¡¯t worth the world, then she has lost hers for nothing.

 Chapter 31 - A False Burial, Part 02

    Quinn arrives in the city centers safely with Ana in her arms, sleeping still, all but healed from most of her artificial wounds by magical and mundane means in Quinn¡¯s employ.


    Knowing full well her destination, she drags her foot by force, ignoring the whispers of conscience in her head and heart as she makes her way through the paved and slick pathway straight to the capital¡¯s palace.


    There, two house guards greet her. ¡°I am the snake which your prince employs to poison this one,¡± she answers them with a gritted hiss, impatient and insulted by their polearms, her control weakened by emotions too turbulent to mask.


    They¡¯re silent for a long time, almost losing their life to Quinn¡¯s blade before they finally nod at shout for the parapet to be raised, allowing her entrance with the both of them following her front and behind, sandwiching her in between.


    As the news of their arrival travels through the chateau, it begins to wake up with each step they take. Lamps that have been shut, once more burn alight with magic; kitchen that has been left cold now moves to warm themselves in preparation for an esteemed guest.


    And the crown prince and his aids, obviously has been asleep a moment, entered the prepared meeting room with Quinn following in tow¡ªafter making her wait nearly an hour¡ªleaving the two guards behind closed doors before they initiate their conversation.


    She puts Ana down on one of the large sofas in the room, far away from the center of their discussion to make sure no stupid ideas enter their mind. Just to ensure such a thing further, she starts the negotiation. ¡°Well! I¡¯ve brought you your price, Crown Prince.¡± Hoping it will give her some semblance of control over the topic at hand.


    ¡°You indeed have brought us our fair spoil, Snake,¡± he answers, the royal pronoun grating on her ears, something that she endures with an easy smile as she waits for him to continue, the question evident from his frown: ¡°But still, we are confused about one simple thing.¡±


    ¡°Then I shall endeavor to answer you to the best of my ability! My king,¡± she replied, the voice dripping with mockery and clear ridicule that plainly bothers the crown prince.


    Trying his best to ignore her tone, ¡°Our order is clear, the task we have charged you with are obvious. So why, pray tell, is she still alive, Snake?¡± he calmly asked, the inquiry fair.


    From any other employer of hers, for any other assignment, she would¡¯ve answered honestly with a light sarcasm. However, spoken by the man that almost led her to ruin, the very same that forces her to murder a woman most undeserving of such a fate; Quinn can¡¯t help but feel vile vitriol rises to her throat.


    Before she can even stop herself, her smile turns sharp as her lips part. ¡°Why are you?¡± Spitting venom to her opponent. ¡°Still alive, I mean! Can you answer that question?¡± Dead serious and unflinching.


    At the force of her sentence, they retreat, as if she just condemns them to an execution.


    After a moment, the leader of the group¡ªthe crown prince¡ªfinally manages to gather enough courage to speak again. It took him a few false starts until he squeaks out: ¡°Excuse me?¡± Tinged in fear still.


    Which, like freshwater, doused Quinn¡¯s anger, turning it into something far easier to control. Her smile became playful once more as she raises her brow. ¡°Excuse you?¡± she asks, her tone mocking. ¡°I don¡¯t believe I am. of a higher position than you are, my king. But if it will help you calm down. Then, by all means! You¡¯re excused.¡±


    The joke in her words have their intended effect, relaxing the taut shoulders of her opponent into what they originally are. Understanding this to be a sign that he can repeat the same question, the crown prince does so, which again cause sourness to enter Quinn¡¯s expression.


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    Though, she finally answers him. ¡°To interrogate!¡± she begins. ¡°Torment.¡± The remark sounds hollow to her own ears. ¡°And kill.¡± With the last one she must push out of her throat with disgust for everyone in the room beside Ana.


    Clear that they find her response unsatisfactory, Quinn raises a finger to stop them from cutting her off. ¡°Now! I understand, you asked me to merely killed her, that¡¯s what you wanted, but that¡¯s not what your cause need, boy.¡±


    ¡°And who are you to claim your ken greater of our need than our counsel?¡±


    ¡°I am the Butcher of Winterpond! The Architect of Blackfort¡¯s Fall! The Bane of Delarosa! You know me, that¡¯s why you hire me. You know the impregnable I penetrate, the innocents I murder, the efficiency by which I depose of those that stands in my way. I deliver to my clients their needs, not their wants.¡±


    Her sentence hangs heavy in the air before she finally sits down, letting the group considers her words, but she knows she already won. There¡¯s no surprise in her face once the crown prince asks for a clarification.


    ¡°And how will you deliver us the aid we need, then, Snake?¡±


    ¡°By interrogation, to extract all information from her before her eventual demise,¡± she explains. ¡°Though, she must not be tortured.¡± Adding the last part in a hurry as she realizes the implication of her statement.


    ¡°Oh? Why not? Is that not a valid and effective method of inquisition?¡±


    ¡°People will confess anything under duress, my king,¡± Quinn half-lie smoothly with a confident smile, forcing the young prince to concede the point.


    ¡°And her death?¡± he asked next.


    The question creases her temple with worry for a moment before she once again takes full control. ¡°By my hand, at the start of your first engagement with the enemy. We kill her in front of them, destroying their morale,¡± she suggests, the cruelty cuts open her own heart.


    Finally satisfied, the crown prince nods, ending their conversation by ordering a guard to deliver Ana to a prison cell while he personally accompanies Quinn to a lavish guest room in the palace, freshly prepared to what the crown prince assume was her liking.


    Quinn doesn¡¯t contest it as she lies down upon the bed, staring at the ceiling with clear disinterest, her mind wanders, and it wanders deep into the castle; to a cold and damp prison cell she imagines they will put the woman in.


    Her breath grew heavy as her head replay what she has done to Ana for the sake of a promise to a filthy noble who hates her, something that she has grown accustomed to until she met her.


    She looks at Quinn so gently, even at the end of their relationship, when Quinn has carved open her flesh with unforgiving precision, the anger that burns in her eyes was never directed at Quinn.


    It almost made her believe herself deserving of another chance at love. Something she has surely squandered now, leaving her nothing but destitute and alone; as she was, as she is, as she will always be.


    She was never much of a blessing to the people around her, her existence a misfortune and a plague to all that care for her. That¡¯s why her father died, that¡¯s why she was stabbed twice in the back by the person she loves.


    That¡¯s why she¡ª¡°I don¡¯t know whether or not I love you, Quinn,¡± a familiar voice cuts her off. ¡°I never experience a romantic love before, not once in my life.¡± Forcing her to sit and look around, finding Ana talking to her past self with such a beautiful smile on her face.


    She speaks them in a lilting tone, contrasting her usual monotone. ¡°So, it would be dishonest of me to claim to love you when the feeling deep inside of me is a mere infatuation.¡± Her declaration was sincere. ¡°But I would like to learn more. To see¡ªno, apologies¡ªto confirm that what I feel for you are indeed love, romantic in its nature.¡± And gentle.


    She picks her words carefully as she studies Quinn¡¯s face, considerate of her feelings and are more than open to accept them. It causes a hunger to rise within her, a craving she can only fulfill by extending a hand and reach out to touch her cheek, changing the scenery.


    They¡¯re sitting on their bed¡ªin Ana¡¯s chamber now. Ana closes her eyes as Quinn caress her face, enjoying the smoothness of her porcelain white skin and the coarseness of her scars.


    Quinn always thinks it strangely suits the woman who wears her heart so openly on her sleeve, terrifying and kind both. It makes her vulnerable to Quinn¡¯s knowing eye, yet stout and enduring all the same.


    In worship, Quinn kisses her digits, trailing them upwards as she whispers her name in prayers. And answering them, Ana hugs her firmly and delicately, stroking her hair in the silence where they¡¯re both tired.


    As tears makes their way down her face, the memory fades into her determined blue eyes, two sapphires that shines by reflected lights.


    If there¡¯s comfort to be had, it¡¯s that Quinn will forever be haunted by those orbs for the rest of her days, the least she deserves for murdering the most divine of soul.

 Chapter 32 - A Wake, Part 01

    Quinn spends her days in the palace sneaking and snooping around while making friends with the servant and guards that frequent its corridors, their wariness quickly melts away at small gifts and favors Quinn would¡¯ve done for them; and the fact that Quinn remembers their name and gossips certainly helps along the way.


    The crown prince no longer bothers her with bothersome meeting after their initial one, leaving her to her own devices with only one standing order as he discusses the next step the kingdom must take with the Matriarch now on their possession.


    Such an order would pull Quinn away from the comfort of the guest room and the artificial warmth of the castle alongside all their splendor as she dives deeper underground, to the place enchanted no to entrap and recycle warm air; but mortals instead.


    Under any other circumstances, she would deny the order, but this was no ordinary situation. For as soon as she enters the heavily guarded holding cell, complex emotions begin playing on Quinn¡¯s heart as her eyes meet Ana¡¯s own.


    She gazes at her not with hatred or anger, but a tired sadness, as if she has spent her night crying. A thought that almost prompts Quinn to reach out before she stops herself, fully recognizing the fact that she was the cause of all of her suffering.


    With that thought in mind, the guilt only grew deeper for the happiness she feels just to be near her again. The cheer that helps her falsify the energy of her greeting. ¡°Ana!¡± Loud and defiant against the cold wind that seeps through the thick walls.


    Quinn has made sure Ana was taken care of to the best of her ability, but a prisoner was always a prisoner in the end. While her food is a warm stew, the bed she sleeps in are damp still from the air.


    Quinn can¡¯t imagine such a thing would help with her health, even when she just sits on them much like she does now, deigning Quinn no reply.


    Ignoring her lack of cooperation. ¡°How do you find the locale, Ana?¡± Quinn continues the pleasantries, as if they¡¯re still partners and not enemies. ¡°I personally find them most enjoyable.¡± The banter flows easily from her. ¡°Marcel from the kitchen just recommend me a small pond in the middle of a nearby forest.¡± A habit she got from the many lunches and dinners they spent together. ¡°She says it was the most beautiful at a late winter night such as this, do you care to join me this evening?¡±


    When her question escapes her, it took her¡ªand everyone else that hears it¡ªa moment to understand the implication. But as they do, as it echoes, a silent anticipation for violence permeates the room.


    The guards held their weapons tighter, the spellcaster that accompanies them down here for a routine inspection on Ana¡¯s chains cradles an invocation in hand, ready to throw it should Quinn stir.


    Quinn herself studies the three with a challenging smirk, edging them to attack first as she quietly feeds magical energy to her prosthetic arms, willing it to a function far crueler and arcane.


    Yet, before any of the four could move. ¡°Quinn.¡± Ana cuts them all off in a voice monotone, her head rose to swallow Quinn¡¯s whole, drowning her, filling her lungs with all of Ana.


    As she begins struggling for breath. ¡°Do you hate me?¡± Ana asked, with a tone strong enough to drag Quinn back to reality¡¯s shore. Despite being half-conscious, she has no need for Ana to reiterate her question.


    After all, it immediately reverberates through the entirety of Quinn¡¯s body, sowing pain with every step they take before rooting deep in her ill-begotten beating heart, fertilizing the already growing guilt.


    She ignores them for a moment, unwilling to let Ana believe there¡¯s a speck of doubt about her feeling for the woman. Planting her feet firm in the ground. ¡°I could never hate you, Ana,¡± she answers with conviction, shocking everyone in the cell but them.


    Quinn expected her response to cause some genuine cheer to return to Ana¡¯s face, but her countenance speaks the opposite, it falls before she breaks their eye contact to once more gaze at the floor.


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    She whispers something to them that Quinn can¡¯t quite hear, a secret that she doesn¡¯t wish to extract while all of these people are here.


    With that in mind. ¡°Well! After such a dramatic, I believe we are done for today!¡± Quinn retreated, her sentence light but was obviously an order. The guards, who are on friendly enough terms with her, follow without question.


    But the spellcaster looks at her with suspicion instead. ¡°Done?¡± He asked with indignity. ¡°You¡¯ve gotten nothing from her! Done nothing to her but what? Flirt with her? What do you mean, done! We are not done, it was impossible for us to be done without filling the Crown Prince¡¯s wishes!¡±


    ¡°Oh?¡± Quinn raises her eyebrow as she steps forward in challenge. ¡°What¡¯s this? You¡¯re questioning my judgment, then?¡± Her smile playful, but her eye glint dangerously as she hides both of her hands behind her back.


    Failed to notice it. ¡°I dare say, I do, good Madame!¡± The man stood his ground, his noble intention to be a good little soldier for his sovereign crystal clear from his body language alone.


    Quinn knew then that this man will do anything for his prince, including touching Ana with or without supervision if he believes it to be for the betterment of his kingdom. And just the idea of it happening, triggers something in Quinn.


    In a flash, she closes their distance, catching the man¡¯s neck in her left hand as it glows in a sinister purple, whirring violently. On her right, a dagger finely crafted, pressed against the man¡¯s cheek.


    ¡°Admit that you¡¯re a cravenly and dishonorable man.¡±


    ¡°Wha¡ªwhat?¡±


    ¡°Admit that you¡¯re foul and cowardly, sir,¡± she insists, drawing blood with her dagger while her enchanted fingers cause absolute fear to travel down his spine.


    Still, the man holds his position, through gritted teeth and shaking legs. ¡°I¡­ I am¡­ I am not¡ª!¡± And Quinn cuts him off by slamming his head against the wall before she once more repeats herself, each word accentuated by the sound of flesh against stone


    ¡°Admit!¡± He tries to fight back, certainly. ¡°That!¡± But Quinn wields her dagger to slash him every time. ¡°You!¡± Surprising him with her ferocity. ¡°Are!¡± With the strength she forces his head against the wall. ¡°A!¡± Until he ultimately surrender. ¡°Milksop!¡± Allowing Quinn full control over his head. ¡°And!¡± Something she uses to just continue ramming it into the hard stone. ¡°Repugnant!¡±


    She only pause to give the man a chance to finally sing a tune she orders him to. ¡°I¡­ I am¡­ a repugnant milksop.¡± And releases him when he does, letting him drop heavily to the cold floor.


    Swiftly. ¡°Eh! Good enough.¡± Her attitude changes back to the false cheer she usually exhibits. With a mocking smile, she pats the man¡¯s head. ¡°She¡¯s mine, good sir. Mine. So please! Be kinder to yourself and learn your place, okay?¡±


    Her question was voiced sweetly. However, after such a display, it was impossible to hear it as nothing but a threat. The man nods and Quinn claps her head. ¡°Good!¡± Waking up the guards from their stupefied amazement at the violence she just showcased.


    Seeing the two of them eyes her with hesitance between attacking or obeying her, Quinn makes the choice for them. ¡°Do bring our good man here to the infirmary, will you? He has repeatedly hit himself against the wall, a tragic accident, yes?¡± By delivering them an order.


    When they don¡¯t respond quick enough, Quinn adds: ¡°Something that can surely be avoided, especially by two guards far wiser than him?¡± The sarcasm was obvious from her grin, forcing them both to answer with a resounding, ¡°Yes!¡±


    As they go, Quinn makes to follow, but not before she stops to take a look at Ana to discover that she was also gazing at her. Finding their orbs locked together once more, Quinn offers her a smaller and more sincere smile alongside a wink. ¡°I will see you tomorrow, Matriarch,¡± she promises.


    And she fulfills them every day until the crown prince calls her to a meeting again, where she suspects they will discuss Quinn¡¯s action towards the spellcaster. Prepared for such a conversation, Quinn enters the room with a confident gait. ¡°My king!¡± she greets as she sits down without waiting for permission.


    ¡°Snake,¡± he replied. ¡°We have decided to engage earlier, before the winter ends.¡±


    ¡°Engage? Engage with what? Unless you already proposed to me and I forgot¡ª!¡±


    ¡°Engage with the enemy¡¯s army, Snake. We will bring the Ana Monte, the Matriarch, with us, for you to kill in front of their largest battlement before we storm it. Are we understood?¡±


    He¡¯s understood, Quinn hears every word he says and her head whirrs to give him reasons not to do such a thing yet. However, all the logic that came to her brain is flimsy at best and an outright lie at worst.


    She realizes then that there¡¯s no way nor point in stalling this attack. For Ana will always die in the end unless¡ª¡°Snake?¡±


    ¡°Oh? You¡¯re one hundred percent understood, my king!¡± she answers, hiding the scheme of betrayal deep in her mind. ¡°Is that all, then?¡±


    ¡°No, there¡¯s also the matter of your¡­ fit of passion as you describe it to the nurses.¡±


    Quinn snorts as their conversation continues easily, her brain working hard to facilitate and plans for Ana¡¯s escape.

 Chapter 33 - A Wake, Part 02

    Ana attentively watches the ceiling, trying to distract herself from another episode involving the entirety of Quinn enveloping her. Such a fantasy was the very reason she found herself here now, after all.


    If she only just finishes her job, done her duty as she should, then¡ª¡°Ana!¡± A loud and defiant shout tinged in false cheer cuts her off.


    Quinn enters with her charming smile, carefully placed to put people at ease around her, unless they¡¯ve seen her true nature and know how wrong such a smile was from her.


    Ana knew her smile, one only meant for her. It was smaller, but honest all the same, with bliss permeating from the whole of it that¡ªagain. ¡°How do you find the locale, Ana?¡± Quinn¡¯s voice stops her train of thought.


    She has done this every time Quinn appears now. ¡°I personally find them most enjoyable.¡± Distracting herself from the real and distant one. ¡°Marcel from the kitchen just recommend me a small pond in the middle of a nearby forest.¡± As she busies being close to the one in her memories, frozen in the time when Quinn would¡ª¡°She says it was the most beautiful at a late winter night such as this, do you care to join me this evening?¡± Randomly asked her out, exactly like that.


    Ana raises her head to studies Quinn, her face a pure surprise at her own question, as if not expecting it to slip out of her mouth. But she¡¯s not upset at it, she merely considers the space, her back against Ana like a wall to protect her.


    Silence descent quickly through the room, not even the most obtuse would miss the implication hidden deep in her words, upon the offers she so cheerfully and sincerely has extended to Ana.


    The guards held their weapons tighter, the spellcaster that accompanies them down here for a routine inspection on Ana¡¯s chains cradles an invocation in hand, ready to throw it should Quinn stir.


    While Quinn herself studies the three with a challenging smirk, edging them to attack first as she quietly feeds magical energy to her prosthetic arms, willing it to a function far crueler and arcane.


    Ana knew violence are going to break out here, a violent that might be more to her benefit than to her detriment. However, just the potential of Quinn being injured in the altercation inspires her to action.


    ¡°Quinn,¡± she calls out, the woman instantly turning her entire head and body towards Ana in a countenance so soft that it hurts Ana for how much she wanted to reach out and holds it against her chest.


    Sharing her pain, Quinn¡¯s breathing grew heavy, the fall and rises of her breast irregular. It gave Ana hopes for a relationship she has so recently dashed by her own pigheadedness.


    This time, though, no matter how convinced she was that it was foolish, how afraid she was of Quinn¡¯s answer. ¡°Do you hate me?¡± she asked, her tone proud to hide the trembling of her neck, thankful that she already sits down lest she slumps from losing all of her strength by voicing the question.


    As if sensing the fear and hesitance in Ana¡¯s question, Quinn planted her feet firmly to the ground. ¡°I could never hate you, Ana,¡± she answers with conviction, shocking everyone in the cell but them.


    The lack of reluctance in her sentence, the non-existence of pause on her reply, the vehemence and intimacy by which she said it. For a moment, there are only two of them in the room, inhabiting the world.


    Then, the spell breaks as she hangs her head low in shame. ¡°¡­ would you say you love me, then?¡± she poses to the wind who are silent, for they knew it was not their response she wanted.


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    The woman doesn¡¯t hear her, though Ana can certainly feel her eye boring a hole into the back of her head with questions Ana are not sure even she can answer. For once since they meet, Ana prays Quinn goes away before she melts her.


    And for once, the world grants her selfish prayer. ¡°Well! After such a dramatic, I believe we are done for today!¡± Quinn says as she retreated and the guards follow, but not the spellcaster.


    Ana can sense his presence on her cell still, inspecting her fully before he finally spoke. ¡°Done?¡± His voice dripping with indignity. ¡°You¡¯ve gotten nothing from her! Done nothing to her but what? Flirt with her?¡± Like a parent scolding a child. ¡°What do you mean, done!¡± A noble, lashing their peasants. ¡°We are not done; it was impossible for us to be done without filling the Crown Prince¡¯s wishes!¡±


    It boils Ana¡¯s blood, anger her beyond measure to be reminded of what kind of treatment her parents would receive, the type of desperation that drove them to give her up.


    But, before she can even process what to do next. ¡°Oh?¡± Quinn steps forward to challenge him. ¡°What¡¯s this? You¡¯re questioning my judgment, then?¡± Her smile was playful, contrasted by the dangerous glint in her eye as she hides both of her hands behind her back.


    Her body language sends shivers of fear down Ana¡¯s spine, for it reminds her so much of their fight in her chamber. There, she was a venomous animal imperiled and has bitten back in self-defense.


    Here and now, though, she was an ambush predator who just cornered her prey.


    Clearly failing to notice this. ¡°I dare say, I do, good Madame!¡± The man stood his ground, his noble soul burns bright in defiance to a threat from a mere snake, unfortunate that Quinn was no mere snake.


    Ana opens her mouth once more, to call out to her and stop the situation from escalating, but it was too late.


    In a flash, Quinn appears in front of the man, catching his throat on her left hand as it glows in a sinister purple, whirring violently; far louder than it was when she fights Ana. On the woman¡¯s right, it was the same dagger that sparks panic in Ana¡ªfinely crafted¡ªpressed against the man¡¯s cheek.


    Then, Quinn¡¯s smile turns sadistic. ¡°Admit that you¡¯re a cravenly and dishonorable man.¡± As she whispers her demand. It stuns everyone in the room, the way her emotion so easily changes.


    ¡°Wha¡ªwhat?¡±


    ¡°Admit that you¡¯re foul and cowardly, sir,¡± she insists, drawing blood with her dagger while profane energy shoots out of her left hand and infects the man¡¯s body, causing him to tremble in fear.


    Ana finds it admirable that even in the face of an opponent far superior, who has managed to take control of one of his most vital organs. ¡°I¡­ I am¡­ I am not¡ª!¡± The man still has the bravery to disobey her.


    Something that she erases by slamming his face against the old wall. The sound of bone cracked and flesh bruised caused Ana to flinch again and again until she finally looks away. ¡°Admit! That! You! Are! A! Milksop! And! Repugnant!¡± Not daring to open her eyes even after the noise has stopped.


    Shortly after. ¡°I¡­ I am¡­ a repugnant milksop.¡± She can hear the man dejectedly repeat before the sound of his body falling to the cold hard floor echoes through the cell that now has become eerily silent but Quinn¡¯s voice: ¡°Eh! Good enough.¡±


    Ana has heard that the woman was cruel. But no stories, not even the exaggeration could describe that temper of her. How does a person hold such anger in their heart? How could they live with it? What could¡¯ve caused it?


    As if reading her mind. ¡°She¡¯s mine, good sir.¡± Quinn answers her, though not directly. ¡°Mine.¡± By the force of her voice, the threat crisp from it. ¡°So please! Be kinder to yourself and learn your place, okay?¡± Before it returns to her usual false cheer.


    She did it because of me? For my sake? The question heats her face, but she dares to raise it again and follow her movement when she claps her hands. ¡°Good!¡± Gaining the attention of the guards. ¡°Do bring our good man here to the infirmary, will you? He has repeatedly hit himself against the wall, a tragic accident, yes?¡± Giving them orders with the casualness of a woman born noble.


    She even has the familiar concealed threat when they don¡¯t respond fast enough: ¡°Something that can surely be avoided, especially by two guards far wiser than him?¡± Quickly eliciting a resounding. ¡°Yes!¡± From the two men.


    As they go, Quinn makes to follow, but not before she stops, finally taking a look back, locking their orbs together once more.


    To Ana, and for Ana alone, she offers a smile far smaller and more sincere alongside a wink. ¡°I will see you tomorrow, Matriarch.¡± Promising her tomorrow, and Ana believed her.

 Chapter 34 - An Escape, Part 01

    Quinn wasn¡¯t one to disappoint, every day she would come, and talk even for just a moment, as Ana continues to gather the courage to finally confess the very thing that has plagued her mind.


    In the cold and damp cell that holds her, Ana appreciates her company until she¡¯s absent one day, an irregularity that causes doubt to once more seeps into her heart, something that now she quickly dispelled to be vindicated the next dawn.


    With the moon slowly fading away from the night sky, Quinn arrives inside her prison fully equipped, her cheeky countenance hiding actual worries that shines through her eye.


    Seeing her figure, Ana stands up from her bed only to be gently but firmly pushed down with Quinn who sits beside her. ¡°Quinn?¡± Ana called out, not daring to reach her for how agitated she was.


    A state of emotion Ana only ever seen her in once before, in the fateful night of their break-up. So eerily similar was she with the past that when she grabs a dagger. ¡°Now, do you trust me, Ana?¡± And asked the same question, Ana can¡¯t help but be pulled to the past.


    By muscle memory alone, her hands move, both of them expecting it to be the exact same reaction to the first time Quinn asked her question. Yet, there¡¯s no force in her hand as she reaches out this time, no divine energy swirling around them to separate them.


    A pleasant surprise that causes them to lock eyes, feeling the intensity deep in each other¡¯s gazes, the anticipation for a kiss that never comes.


    For Ana uses her mouth to do something better. ¡°I do,¡± she answers her, not a speck of doubt in the monotone of her voice, no sign trickery or falsehood written on her expression.


    Death will soon approach her, and she wants to meet it honest and brave, without regret for the things that could¡¯ve been, and she hopes Quinn feels the same as she slowly leans in to finally kiss her, tasting her one last time before¡ªshe hugs her.


    With tender wants and temperate warmth, she sighs longingly, charging the air with fondness too gentle for the damned, too kind for the doomed. How could anyone do anything but hope after such a display of affection?


    Wishing this was no dream, Ana gathers up all the courage she has made for herself with a breath and¡ª¡°Quinn, I¡­¡±


    ¡°I¡¯m sorry, Ana,¡±¡ªQuinn rushes to cuts her off as she pulls away. ¡°For everything! For the way I treated you, for the lies I told, for the secrets I hid. I¡ªyour betrayal hurt me, but it was the least I deserve after not being honest to the person I cherished most.¡±


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    At the word, Ana¡¯s heart thrums fast and faster, buzzing from joy, bursting free from her ribs with happiness indescribable. She has never known herself to be holding such a deep yearning for her attraction, yet now that it has arrived, she wanted more.


    Like the drowned tasting air after minutes of struggling in the brine, Ana hungrily reaches out to Quinn, bypassing proper decorum, and kiss her with ardor. She was thankful to the divinities above and below that Quinn responds by escalating the situation, only separating herself away when the need to breath became too urgent to ignore.


    There then, she can see a streak of sorrow lighting up her visage in an instant. Just as quickly as it has appeared, the expression escapes her face, who are now full of nothing but surety.


    Accompanied with it. ¡°They¡¯re going to kill you, Ana.¡± Quinn delivers the most obvious news yet, invoking an amused smile on Ana¡¯s lips that Quinn replied in kind before her countenance turns serious again. ¡°I know, I know! A surprise to us all, but they¡¯re going to do it soon, and I wouldn¡¯t allow that.¡±


    ¡°What do you propose we should do, then?¡± Ana asked, the we rolling so easily and jubilantly off her tongue.


    Quinn plays along. ¡°We ran away, my darling heart.¡± Pulling Ana closer to her, causing excitement to burns in her stomach. ¡°You lead the way, and I will follow.¡± Until it drops when Quinn spoke the last sentence.


    She frowns. ¡°What do you mean, you will follow? Are we not going out together?¡±


    ¡°We¡¯re going out together,¡± Quinn jokes, which only manage to deepen the creases on Ana¡¯s temple. ¡°But I will distract them as you make your way off to a tunnel that the royalties of old uses to escape a failed revolution.¡± As she continues to explain the plan, describing to Ana in detail the path she must take and the obstacle she shall face.


    Something Ana struggles to absorb, not because of the complexities of the arrangement, but due to what it involves. Every part of her screams for her to object, to force Quinn to come with her.


    And Ana are sure Quinn can feel it, too. The way her body trembles at the thought of losing Quinn before she could reply to her words in kind, the way Quinn swiftly and softly hugs her for a moment before standing up, putting a distance between them.


    There, she stands with the dagger she has shown Ana so many days ago, using it to open a new wound in her palm, beginning a ritual sacred and old.


    ¡°I will always return to you, Ana,¡± she starts. ¡°The all-knowing stars will see to it, the bottomless sea will keep me good for it, the very earth shall swallow me if I break it. I promise you, by my name and blood, I will always return to you, my darling heart.¡± The oath and pet name at the end flowing so easily out of her that it injects Ana with identical confidence.


    With a word. ¡°Okay.¡± She gave her assent, presenting her chains for Quinn to effortlessly broke. She only needs to find her equipment now before teleporting away, trusting Quinn to be more than capable of doing the same.


    After all, they¡¯re both professionals with jobs to do for no one but each other.

 Chapter 35 - An Escape, Part 02

    Quinn watches Ana walks away under the cover of her cloak, undetected by the guards standing in front of her door. The very same guard who doesn¡¯t bat an eye as Quinn strides out without her robe.


    Surely, they must have known the cloak was magical in nature. Failing that, it should at least be quite obvious that I hold a feeling for Ana? Quinn thinks as she studies the man. Why the reaction, then? Or rather, the lack of it? Are they really this arrogant to think themselves invincible?


    Perhaps so, unfortunate that Quinn couldn¡¯t play that angle. For while her target was indeed the crown prince, this was no assassination; it was a distraction. And she pities the man that was about to be her first target.


    With such a feeling in her heart, then, she puts on her best smile. ¡°Howard!¡± And greets him, pulling him back to reality as he grumbles before he corrects themselves when he sees Quinn in full.


    ¡°Ms. Nathair!¡± he replied, his voice clearly surprised.


    ¡°A long night, is it?¡±


    ¡°It is, Ms. Nathair.¡±


    ¡°When are Renard coming to replace you?¡±


    ¡°Two hours or so from now, Ms. Nathair.¡±


    ¡°So, not long.¡±


    ¡°Yeah, not long,¡± he echoes, no longer paying attention to the pleasantries.


    Taking it as her opportunity. ¡°Hope you¡¯re still alive by then, then!¡± Quinn pulls out one of her mundane daggers and strikes at the man¡¯s chest, pushing him back into the cell floor.


    The man looks up at Quinn with surprise, clutching his breast, hesitant to tear out the dagger in fear of blood loss. An informed man, Quinn note, allowing him to observe the now empty room before gazing back to Quinn.


    An easy puzzle to solve, with an answer that stirs him to open his mouth and alarming the palace to treason at hand. Before his voice can ever escape, though, Quinn kicks him in the throat, just strong enough to temporarily disable his ability to beg for help after Quinn manage to move far.


    After all, she indeed wanted chaos, just not this early. She intended to give Ana time to get used to her surroundings, to find her way and bearing before the fire consume the path she traverses.


    Still, she¡¯s sure such a sound logic wouldn¡¯t persuade the guard, so she went for a slightly different approach.


    ¡°Don¡¯t worry, Howard! If everything goes well for you: your child won¡¯t lose a father, nor your wife a husband.¡± A mocking promise as she seized the prison key from his belt. ¡°Just don¡¯t pull out the serrated dagger and scream for help once your throat feels better, huh?¡± Patting him in his back before she finally retreats out of the room, locking the man behind bars and throwing the key away without much care.


    She takes a deep breath, four of them in total, each of them in tandem with the activation of a higher function of a different prosthesis of hers.


    The first one was her left leg that became as strong as a horse, swifter than a hare, and lighter than the very wind. Dexterity and power she would need against so many sharp implements and spells.


    The second was her left arm, whirring with the sinister purple glow of arcane energies, filled to the brim with maledictions waiting for targets, and more than capable of movement outside of the human¡¯s range. The sort of flexibility Quinn would want against a horde of enemies.


    The third was her left eye, etched with esoteric scripts of a dead tongue it shimmers in a gentle light, granting her the ability to see the world as it truly was, is, and will be, teeming with life and death both.


    The last was her hammering heart, a gift from the goddess that has managed to rule over her head. It beats, thrums with life ill lived and now seeking redemption with a final act of heroism.


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    The energy that has been stored in it explodes, inspiring her body to ultimately move, prepared for the challenge to come, she took a step forward. It took an effort from her to make her walk natural, to make herself not bounce as high as she should have been.


    The rising sun approaches, the servants have been awoken for quite some time now to ready the baths and food of the nobles that makes the palace their home. Most of them are familiar with Quinn, greeting her on her way.


    And Quinn replies in kind, injecting her words with magical suggestion for them to stay as far away from any sound of fights that might break out and to not report it, a protocol she doesn¡¯t have before.


    But she also doesn¡¯t have Ana before. Filled with such a thought, she throws a punch to the chin of the first guard she founds, quickly incapacitating him, with the noise of his armored body falling to the floor begin bait for another two to come.


    Losing the element of surprise, Quinn hurls a dagger coated in acid to melt through one of the guard armors and poison their nerves while she rushes the other with her left hand to cover his mouth, slamming his head against the rack then the walls as he struggles to escape.


    Unwilling to give him the chance to do so, Quinn¡¯s hand grew warm then hot as its palm spits out fire that burns the young man¡¯s throat, convulsing wildly with eyes begging for mercy that never came.


    His death arrives in an opportune time, for the moment Quinn pulls away, she catches the other guard surviving her attack enough to attempt to take a shaky shot at her neck.


    A sure hit if she didn¡¯t dodge them and throw a dagger to the woman¡¯s neck in return, quickly ending her suffering. Spotting no more guards coming her way, Quinn makes a move forward, occasionally stopping to murder every armed person in her path in the most discreet fashion she can possibly find.


    Some of them she takes time to kill with drowning, others are only wearing gambeson, solid but not enough to resist a precise cut to the neck. As she climbs, her opponents and method got more creative.


    She was no longer facing the regular guards, but the royal house guards, trained and fed from the crown¡¯s coffer to ensure their safety during events such as this and to serve as a center for an army.


    In the field, they¡¯re a heavy infantry, feared by some as the best in the north. High up on a palatial ground, however, they¡¯re suits of armors to be thrown off balconies and pummeled to death with her left arm, enchanted to be heavy with the help of gravity.


    Some of them manage to fight back, obviously, dropping their halberd with practiced and repeated swing, a quirk of professional military training to make sure every soldier has no need to think.


    After all, thinking in the battlefield is a source of doubt, a sign of weakness, a moment to consider your enemy as humane and unique. Something unimportant when you simply need to kill for your liege, for your cause, for whatever it is you chose to believe.


    In a one-on-one struggle, though, it was of the utmost import to view your opponent as humane, to catch their blow with your heavily bewitched left hand and make use of their shock by pulling their weapon away from them, then wielding the dull end to once more beat them to death before pushing their body of the balcony.


    Slowly but surely, the fights attract more and more attention just as she planned, yet nobody manages to escape to sound the alarm yet, only at marring Quinn¡¯s body in new slashes and bruises.


    Attacks that sometimes hamper, daze, and even rarely surprise her. However, none of them succeed at stopping her from arriving to their precious prince¡¯s room, locked but has lost their guards on the end of the hallway.


    Looking back to make sure no-one was following her, Quinn reaches out to touch the door and dispel the crude magic that protects it before she picks its lock and enters, bolting shut the door with a better enchantment.


    The very same one she has used on Ana.


    The sound of the device exploding and ensorcelling the room startle the young ruler awake. He surveys around with wide-eyed worry that turns to annoyance once he spots Quinn, unable to see her injuries on the dim light of his room.


    ¡°Snake?¡± he asked, his voice full of contempt. ¡°What exactly are you doing in our room?¡± Unwilling to panic or drop the royal pronoun, even when the murderer of his parents has appeared in front of him.


    Quinn stays silent, wondering about the why. Surely, the boy understands that this is his end. So how come is he so confident? Is it misplaced? Or does he truly have a trump card just for me?


    When Quinn doesn¡¯t respond¡ªas if reading her mind¡ªthe crown prince continues. ¡°We both know you can¡¯t kill us due to our contract, so do leave our room and let us have our rest until the sun rises once more.¡±


    Ah. Quinn realizes. It¡¯s the third option: arrogance from ignorance. Quinn¡¯s favorite to destroy. ¡°Oh, my,¡± she starts, tone lilting. ¡°What an interesting theory, my king.¡± And teasing. ¡°Just one problem!¡± As she walks forward and show herself covered in gore. ¡°I never promise you life, my king. Only death.¡± Wielding a bloodied dagger in her hand.


    ¡°Wha¡­ what are you¡ªah!¡± Quinn cuts him off by throwing a knife right past his head, encouraging the fear, encouraging him to move and calls for help. And like any desperate child, he does.


    The silent alarm sounded, Quinn slings her dagger to his hand with force enough to nail him to his bedside table and falls to the floor with another scream of pain.


    ¡°I am here to deliver death, my king.¡±

 Chapter 36 - An Encounter Reprised

    Spring so kindly promised by nature has arrived as usual, bringing with them blooming flowers and growing leaves alongside waking hibernating animals. The remaining snow melted quickly, turning into dew, then evaporating to the air to go somewhere else once more.


    The revolution has survived the worst winter the north has seen in the last decade, while their opponents and their lackluster attempts at counterinsurgency has suffered a grievous blow.


    The crown prince, the direct heir to the throne of Adelheid has been assassinated by Quinn, whom the kingdom has captured and executed for her crime against the crown. An act that cures the royalist ache of vengeance, but it wasn¡¯t enough to slow down the infighting to come.


    Adding insult to injury, the very same assassin also aided the Matriarch of the Temple of the Great Mother¡ªa leading figure of the popular rebellion¡ªin escaping the clutches of the enemy, a tale of a miracle that emboldens their cause even further.


    There are still fighting to be done and war to be won, but for the international community, the dust has settled. One by one, they all vow their cause to the revolution, even the most opportunistic and selfish among them.


    Which is why the need for Ana to collect herbs was long gone, with the closely guarded supplies coming from all around the continent. Yet, there she still was, picking up flowers she knew was best harvested when they¡¯re nothing but a bud.


    Though, even Ana was forced to admit that gathering the bounty of nature was only half of the reason she was here. The other and far larger reason was how much her heart longs for Quinn, her ghost now haunts her dreams and every waking hour of her life.


    And she¡¯s glad for it, even encouraging it by going to the places they frequent, and the place where they first meet.


    There, she would stand and studies the trees, rustling and dancing with the wind. She wonders if they remember her as Ana does, how the suspicion turns into trust, how the trust turns into love.


    Ana certainly hopes they do, the woman deserves that much after everything she has done for Ana, for each word that has escaped her lips in private, whispered into Ana¡¯s ears with such a deep longing that Ana can¡¯t help but repeat the question she asked her so long ago, a question Ana was now sure she has the answer to.


    If she¡¯s somehow still alive, Ana would rush to her side and restates her reply as many times as the woman wants to hear it, because now all she has is a makeshift unmarked grave, placed in the place they first laid eyes upon each other.


    To it. ¡°I apologize for your surroundings, Quinn,¡± she talks to ease her own suffering. ¡°I promise I will find your remains and bury where you wanted to be.¡± Ignoring the regret she has for not responding more actively to the woman¡¯s small talk. ¡°I will mark my grave beside you, then. For truthfully, I do not wish to live in a world bereft of you.¡± Teary-eyed as she said all the things she no longer has the chance to say to nothing but the gentle wind that kindly caress her cheek.


    ¡°Oh my, Ana!¡± Until a voice familiar to her ears travel through it, freezing Ana in fear of it being another phantom of her own grieve. Not privy to Ana¡¯s thought. ¡°With all of this bereavement you seem to hold for me.¡± The ghost continues. ¡°Would you say you love me, then?¡± And Ana can hear the smile on its sentence as it repeats the question Quinn asked her so long ago.


    Unwilling to let such an apparition deface her memory so, Ana turns back, only to find Quinn standing right in front of her with a charmingly sincere grin plastered on her face.


    ¡°Quinn ¡­?¡± she pleaded, doubtful, eyes studying her body closely for any signs of trickery or illusions, only to discover clues to the opposite; with fresh scars marring her beautiful face and neck.


    ¡°The very same, sister!¡± The woman¡¯s smile widens under Ana¡¯s gaze as she dips her head a little in introduction, adding a playful wink at the end of her sentence.


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    ¡°I am not your sister.¡± Ana frowns.


    ¡°No? What would you call our relation¡ª!¡±


    Unable to bear their separating a moment longer, Ana pulls Quinn down by the collar and kiss her lips, the sensation was familiar and new at the same time. Ana can feel Quinn smirks to the kiss, allowing it to go deeper, to go far beyond the intimate.


    The woman injects it with passion, letting relief flow from Ana to her as Ana breathes in her recognizable scent, that of petrichor and rain forest until her lungs force them away from each other.


    To the question that Quinn posed by eyes and tongue. ¡°I do,¡± Ana answers her. ¡°I love you, Quinn.¡± With conviction in her words, fiery intensity in her orbs that dares Quinn to challenge her, to ask her to prove it to her.


    Yet, the woman merely smiles; the biggest and brightest smile Ana has ever seen and pulls Ana into a bear hug. ¡°I love you, too, Ana.¡± Whispering her reply sweetly into her hair.


    ***


    Quinn still doesn¡¯t believe how lucky she was to have her in her arms, holding her so tightly as if she was worthy of it. No, Quinn quickly interrupts herself. I am worthy of it. Insisting on a lesson learned as she pulls Ana even closer.


    A movement that colors the woman¡¯s face in concern as she asks: ¡°Is something wrong, Quinn?¡± A trait of her that Quinn truly adores.


    ¡°No.¡± She kisses Ana lightly as she answers honestly.


    For indeed, there¡¯s nothing wrong anymore with Quinn¡¯s life, not as she finds herself hear beside the woman she has worshiped, whose body is worth far more than the very moon, whose heart is the water from which all other spring forth.


    She was more than kind to her, insisting on bringing her back to the battlement and defends her from all questions and scrutiny by employing her good name and rising star status.


    Even now, as they find themselves alone, Ana has done nothing but hug her as she read through some report that truthfully would be unable to hold Quinn¡¯s interest, especially not with Ana in the room.


    And Quinn¡¯s sure Ana is feeling the same, with the manner her gaze would sometimes lazily wander towards Quinn, full of desire and concerns that she doesn¡¯t want to impose on Quinn, who for some reason she believes has just gone through something traumatic.


    An assumption that Quinn must correct.


    Changing her smile to something more seductive. ¡°Do you want to do it tonight, Ana?¡± Quinn leans forward to place herself in between the paper and Ana, making sure her posture was just right to display the allure of her body.


    Something that¡¯s obviously working with the way Ana¡¯s breath hitches, forced to take a stabilizing one before she can respond with a question of her own. ¡°Are you sure?¡± she asked, searching Quinn¡¯s face for any sign of doubt.


    When Quinn nods and she finds none, Ana swiftly corrects their position, pushing Quinn down to the bed before she gave chase to her lips and let it melt in kisses.


    Ana was hungry, and so was Quinn. Both of their hands travel the contours of each other¡¯s body, expertly undressing them as they touch with familiarity, eliciting a whimper of pleasure from each other that grew more and more intense as their hands travel further down.


    Quinn doesn¡¯t know how, but as the night grew darker; she has found herself beneath Ana, moaning the woman¡¯s name in between the heavy breaths she takes, and she has never before felt so right in her life.


    ¡°Quinn¡­.¡± Ana does the same in a painful frustration, pulling Quinn¡¯s own hand to her own intimate area, giving Quinn¡¯s dexterous fingers to work her wonder in tandem with Ana¡¯s tempo.


    The both of them grew desperate now, climbing the mount of ecstasy with great need of release from each other. Their voices grew louder, only dampened when they kiss each other, seeking comfort from the warmth of the other until pleasure explodes and sends shivers to the whole of their being.


    Ana collapses into Quinn¡¯s chest, breathing heavily in her bosom, both of them spent. There. ¡°Your promise,¡± Ana whispers straight to her heart. ¡°Is it sincere? Will you truly always return to my side?¡± With bedroom eyes pleading for honestly.


    Something that Quinn instantly gives. ¡°Yes,¡± with a nod and a soft smile, only meant for Ana. There¡¯s no doubt in Quinn¡¯s soul of her decision, of her capability to fulfill the oath she has taken.


    Even without them, the gravity of Ana celestial body will forever pull Quinn towards her. ¡°I will always return to you, Ana,¡± she repeats. ¡°Without rhyme or reason, ignoring time and place: I will always find my way back to you. I promise.¡± Hoping Ana would believe her.


    And she does. ¡°Then, I promise to always be there for you.¡± Pledging the same thing to Quinn as she climbs closer to her face. ¡°To always wait for you.¡± And deliver a kiss alongside her oath.


    When their mouths are separated, there¡¯s mirth written into the woman¡¯s countenance, angelic as it was; it is also mortal. She was mortal, the best among them, yes, but still mortal.


    So, when she nods and Quinn touch her again, she does so gently; as an act of worship to the most celestial of body.


    Outside, the stars light up their bodies in a gleam soft and tender, marking them for happiness for the rest of their days; promising forever to the snake and the moon, entwined in eternity everlasting.