《Building A Sect Through Revenge (Grimdark Fantasy-Magic Meets Cultivation)》


 Ch 1 - Old Temple

    Steel clanging and men shouting warred with the roar of thunder to be heard. The noise grew more distant the farther I walked, drowned out by the shah of rain beating against trees and the sound of blood rushing in my ears.


    Pelting rain blinded me as I made my way up the steep slope. The water turned the ground into sludge, and mud glued me in place, making each step harder than the next.


    I slogged through, clutching at trees to keep my balance.


    It wasn¡¯t enough.


    I slipped.


    One hand squeezed the bundle against my body while the other wheeled in the air as I tried to keep my balance. Yelping, I fell, landing hard on my side.


    My head snapped down, worry gnawing at my gut. He had to be fine. I breathed a sigh of relief. The bundle in my arm was fine, protected. Not that it made a difference. Still, I clutched it to my chest, humming a broken tune I¡¯d heard from my mother.


    A fresh wave of pain wracked my body, making the previous aches worse. I did my best to ignore it, dragging my free hand across my face, clearing dirt, water, and whatever else clung to me.


    I wanted to sit¡ªto rest, only for a moment.


    I was so tired. But I couldn¡¯t¡ªunsure if I¡¯d ever get back up if I stayed there a second longer. I forced myself to stand, my knees shaky like a newborn colt.


    Opening my mouth, I angled my face upwards and swallowed some water, but it didn¡¯t ease my thirst. Fire clawed at my throat, burning my muscles, veins, and heart.


    It was dark, and the tar-black sky flashed with lightning. With my eyes on the sky, I searched for a sign or message. There might be something, but I couldn''t understand it. All I saw were the shadowy black forms of the trees closest to me. Maybe that was my sign. I should have accepted the shadows instead of striving to live in the light.


    I shook my head, my eyes falling to the ground. This was more comfortable¡ªmy neck wasn''t used to being held up.


    I tried lifting my foot, regretting standing there for so long. The mud pulled at my feet as if the world itself were trying to hold me back.


    Rain lashing, cold and relentless, the next step was agony.


    Stopping meant sinking.


    Stopping meant giving up.


    Not now.


    Never again.


    I''d found it¡ªfought for it. Freedom¡ªliving wasn''t possible, but death would be on my terms.


    ¡°Just a little more.¡± The words comforted me, knowing the end was close. Peacefulness settled where anger and frustration used to be.


    The temple should be near.


    I kept moving, not sure what propelled me. I only had a vague idea of where I was going, driven by desperation rather than logic.


    My next step felt different, easier even though it was harder to move¡ªyanking my foot up and plodding it down. Mud squished between my toes, and rocks dug into the blistered soles of my feet.


    I¡¯d lost a shoe.


    It wasn¡¯t a substantial loss. The clothes I wore were a collection of scraps I found as I wandered the battlefield scavenging from corpses. I''d laugh if I had the energy¡ªit was a far cry from the finery I grew up with.


    A sigh slipped out, swallowed by the yowl of wind whipping through the trees. Finery. Even to the end, I lied to myself. Still, those were better days when the wool covered my eyes, and ignorance was a warm blanket and a comforting touch.


    My body rocked, and the pain was a distant echo, something I knew with aching familiarity but couldn''t quite remember, like my favorite dessert, which I hadn''t eaten in years. The taste of it was ghostly on my tongue, and the pain was ghostly in my body. I was glad it was gone¡ªboth of them.


    I''d be stuck, unable to move, if I remembered either.


    Jaw clenched, I continued forward.


    ***


    I looked through scraggly, water-soaked black bangs, seeing a dilapidated altar.


    I''d imagined something else¡ªmajestic, solemn, untouched by time or the world.


    My legs gave out, dropping me to my knees.


    Was I on my knees in supplication?


    It was fitting. We matched¡ªbroken down and decrepit, only the desperate seeking us out.


    I wasn¡¯t religious, but facing death, I realized gods existed¡ªthey had to. They fucked with my life too much to be anything other than real. I''d unknowingly incurred their ire, or maybe they favored others. Selena, for example. Everyone loved her. I loved her. She was eloquent, gifted, and beautiful. Selena knew what to say and to whom. She knew when to say it, which was arguably more important. She also had the magical might to back her up.


    Not like Jal. Jal was beautiful, but stupid. She didn''t understand the value of silence. She lived her entire life hoping someone would hear her, someone would listen. Jal¡ªthe illegitimate daughter. Jal¡ªthe unfortunate creature born without magic.


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    I never escaped that identity. I huffed, laughing at myself. Stop lying to yourself. I''d never tried, not until it was too late. Years later, it returned to haunt me, and now it is hunting me down.


    The temple stank of piss and strewed about were bones, something having made this place its home.


    Well, temple was the wrong word.


    It was a cave. Roughly smoothed walls had faded glyphs carved into them. Ancient markings suggested the altar belonged to an old god. I wasn¡¯t knowledgeable enough to know which, and I''d be lying if I said I cared.


    Whoever they were, they were decent enough. I wasn''t cold. The whip marks on my back didn¡¯t sting, nor did the burn on my face throb. I wasn''t hungry or thirsty¡ªnot anymore.


    Only the exhaustion lingered.


    Too tired to stand, I crawled forward, an odd movement, hobbling three-limbed.


    I rested the bundle I''d carried all the way here swaddled to my chest on the altar¡ªpeeling away layers of cloth until I saw his beautiful face. His eyes were closed as if sleeping.


    I half expected him to blink and reach his chubby little hand out.


    He was always reaching for me¡ªalways happy to see me. He needed me.


    My son.


    The tiny, little, pure thing that came out of me.


    He didn¡¯t have a name. I wasn¡¯t able to think of one when he was born, wanting to choose something perfect, and he passed away before I could decide.


    I refused to do it now¡ªsomehow¡ªnaming him felt like tying him to me, chaining him to this world. He deserved better.


    Another dry laugh slipped past my cracked lips.


    They murdered him.


    I murdered him. As my stomach swelled along with my heart, I knew he wasn''t mine to keep. The happiness¡ªpoisonous. The hope¡ªruinous. My pride¡ªcorrupting.


    It would have been better to visit the witch doctor.


    I reached out, to stroke a finger down his cheek, but stopped. He was pale and clean, while dirt and mud caked my hands.


    He shouldn¡¯t have been born¡ªnot to me.


    At least they had the decency to poison him. He¡¯d passed painlessly in his sleep. A kindness I didn¡¯t know they had.


    ¡°I¡¯m sorry.¡± My voice was raspy from disuse. I couldn¡¯t remember the last time I spoke.


    I''d thought myself resigned, but as I looked at him, I wondered about the life he would have had if someone else were his mother. He''d be smart, brave, and kind. My mind wanted him in a field of flowers, laughing. I tried to imagine it, but couldn''t.


    I glanced up at the figure carved into the wall. It was hard to tell with how damaged the image was, but she was probably a woman, her garments loose and flowing as she stood by a river.


    I bit my lip, tasting blood. ¡°I don¡¯t know what to say. Please. I¡¯m not asking for myself, but please have mercy on him. I don''t ask for much, or maybe it''s a lot, but I want him to have a life without pain. He doesn''t have to be mine. No, he shouldn''t be mine. I don''t deserve¡ªplease. Please.¡±


    I bowed down, knocking my head against the ground. I could only use my sincerity to express my desires and feelings. My chest tightened as I thought about what else to say. I should have thought about it before. I knew I wasn''t eloquent.


    My thoughts scattered.


    Clank thud, distinct and familiar. The lament of soldiers. The sound of their armor¡ªlike locust wings, pests devouring everything and leaving death wherever they spread.


    The sound got louder¡ªthey were getting closer.


    Heart racing, I scrambled back. Arms spread wide to protect him. They couldn''t have him. He was dead. They''d won. What more did they want?


    I didn¡¯t think I had any tears left, but my eyes burned as I cried. Vision blurry, I furiously dashed away the tears.


    Couldn¡¯t they leave us alone?


    A flash of lightning illuminated a figure at the mouth of the cave.


    I couldn¡¯t see his face, but my soul knew him. I trembled, picturing him, that cruel smile half hanging off his lips as he watched me¡ªas he waited. He wore full armor¡ªnot a drop of mud marring its gleaming silver surface. There was no crest. That must have upset him, no mark to show his diligence and devotion. A show. Was it too late to realize the part I should have played?


    Green eyes glared at me through the slit of his helmet. I stared back, unsure what expression was on my face.


    I felt sick at the trace of regret I saw as his gaze flickered over me.


    Only he entered, but others blocked the entry. They had their swords drawn. Two hands on the hilt, the tip pointed down.


    Bastards.


    They knew what it meant.


    They knew who they were coming to kill.


    They mocked me even in my last moments. A ceremonial stance they never saw fit to perform for me before they did now as I kneeled at their mercy.


    The honor guards send off for their queen.


    ¡°All this for little old me.¡± My hoarse voice sounded eerie, accompanied by a thunderous roar. My tone was calm, which surprised me. If only I were half as composed during my life.


    The soldiers guarding the entrance weren¡¯t as skilled as the one who entered. They shuffled from foot to foot, sending nervous glances at each other. I found it funny that they were afraid of me. Or maybe it was the temple. Old gods were notorious for their punishments. Or maybe it was the child''s corpse on the altar¡ªwar made monsters out of men, but they were still human.


    The green-eyed devil didn''t care, though. There probably weren''t any sins left for him to commit. ¡°This is the end-¡±


    ¡°No shit. What else could it be? The beginning?¡± I said, cutting him off. My hands flopped to my side, and I plopped down, sitting with my back resting on the altar. What was I doing? He was already dead. I¡¯d failed when I was supposed to protect him. Anything now was to soothe my conscience. ¡°Who sent you?¡± I wanted him to say it, to confirm what I knew, but I also wanted to be wrong. Please let it not be the husband who abandoned me or the father who sold me. Or maybe it''s my brother, putting me out of my misery. ¡°Doesn¡¯t matter,¡± I said before he could speak. ¡°I¡¯m honored they sent a magic swordsman to deal with one half-dead woman.¡±


    I¡¯d lived my whole life not knowing how much of a threat and nuisance they considered me. I¡¯d been jealous and ashamed that I was less than others because of my birth and lack of magic. Now I found it all pointless.


    ¡°Why did you-¡± His eyes darted between me and the altar.


    ¡°Not telling you.¡± I aimed for a singsong tone, but my voice cracked, the words fading at the end.


    He came towards me.


    I eyed him, baring my teeth. I followed his gaze. He wasn¡¯t looking at me.


    I jolted. ¡°Pathetic.¡± Hand on the edge of the stone altar, I shakily stood. ¡°So terrified of a dead baby. He couldn¡¯t even come and clean up his own mess. He let his lap dog do it.¡±


    He laughed. ¡°Let me? You can¡¯t use magic or fight. Why does his majesty need to deal with you?¡± Drawing his sword, he thrust it through my chest.


    Mouth open, I looked down.


    It didn¡¯t hurt.


    I touched the wound.


    My vision blurred, and I swayed. With my last bit of strength, I spit in his face. ¡°Did I upset you, dog?¡±


    He backhanded me, metal connecting with my cheek.


    Hitting the altar, my body bounced and slumped to the floor. Vision blurring, I screamed as he reached a gauntlet-covered hand to my child.


    He startled, turning to look at me. His steps faltered, but only for a second. He turned around, whispering a spell. Fire engulfed the small body resting on the altar.


    The smell of roasting flesh made me gag.


    As he walked past, I reached out, grabbing his greaves.


    He kicked my hand away.


    They completed the salute, swords raised at a forty-five-degree angle, a send-off.


    It turned out it wasn''t for me, even until the end.


    I should have lived more freely.

 Ch 2 - Punishment or Reward

    So soft.


    I lay face down, cheek pressed against a pillow, running my fingers over the garish fuchsia sheet. Each pass of my hand caused a waft of lavender mixed with a musty odor. My nail caught. Nimble, delicate, unscared hands picked at the frayed silk threads before continuing their movement.


    So warm.


    A scan of the room showed pink layered on pink. The walls, floor, rugs, furnishings, clothes, and jewelry were all varying shades of pink. To the casual observer, it was a room filled with splendor, but like the musty smell, you''d find rot if you looked beneath the opulent veneer.


    It was nauseating.


    That feeling worsened¡ªintensifying as I remembered who decorated my room and the reason they decorated it this way.


    My finger trailed along the wooden bed frame, coming away with dust and splinters. Even when cleaning, they only bothered to do what others could see.


    I resisted the desire to burn everything. Orange and pink looked beautiful together, especially when tinged with the gray of ash and smoke.


    I might do it too, just to see what happens.


    I was tired of waiting for something to happen. I needed a clue, anything, to confirm whether this was reality or a fever dream.


    The first day I woke up in this gilded cage, I was sure a demon would come to dole out punishment or penance. As time passed, I went from satiated to hungry, and my bladder burned, but I didn¡¯t dare to move.


    When it became too much, I relieved myself and searched for food. Experience told me they stripped the room of anything edible, leaving only a jug of water on the side table. I knew I wouldn¡¯t find anything. When the things I knew, but shouldn''t be real happened, it confirmed something terrible and unbelievable inside. The jug filled on the second morning, like clockwork.


    I searched.


    I languished for days, waffling between the idea that I was insane or in Astine to receive punishment for my sins.


    Death wasn¡¯t the end I was hoping for.


    There was a real possibility I would have to relive my suffering from beginning to end. Unable to sit still, I stood, walking to the window. Students stood in the courtyard. They laughed and joked with each other. The sun shining on them made them so dazzling I didn''t want to see, but couldn''t look away. A group of second-years bustled through the corridors like a school of miniature pilot fish, teeming with the sort of bubbly optimism that made me ill.


    The hollow-eyed seventh-year students lurking about were much more endurable. They were beset by examination anxiety, even six months in advance. No doubt, they remembered the ordeal they encountered in their second year.


    They were tolerable. Half of them would die. They were almost as pitiable as I.


    It was a pity. The half that returned could pick at any career in the duchy they wanted.


    They weren''t as bearable now.


    I looked away. The vicious thoughts didn''t feel like my own. I didn''t know them to want them dead.


    In the distance, I saw the towering wall that bordered the Wraith Mountains. I couldn¡¯t use magic and, as such, I never had the dubious pleasure of setting foot in the forest that teemed with monsters, but that was the destination of the students below.


    I couldn¡¯t help feeling jealous.


    Out of all the things I¡¯d coveted and stolen in my life, magic was the thing I wanted most, but couldn¡¯t have.


    Power was a close second.


    My son--


    I pushed the thought away. While sitting on the windowsill with the light burning my eyes, that thought allowed another to crowd in. One that I refused to give credence to but couldn¡¯t ignore. A week of denial was enough.


    Rebirth.


    It left a sour taste in my mouth. As far as I was concerned, it was better to be insane or get punished in hell. Astine was more appealing than facing my family¡¯s hypocrisy or battling against a fate I didn¡¯t know how to save myself from. But I was never one to indulge in either denial or hope.


    In the last five days, as hunger gnawed at my stomach and I enjoyed the dodgy comforts of my childhood bedroom, time forced me to accept the gift of rebirth. I wasn¡¯t sure why I got this blessing and hesitated to call it anything other than a curse, but I was mindful of the gods watching or listening. This could only be their work, and they already disliked me. I was playing it safe with topics related to them. I didn¡¯t want to do anything blasphemous and did my best to say a few good words and play at gratitude. After all, unwanted or not, I¡¯d experienced a miracle firsthand.


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    I may be conceited thinking they were watching as I decided whether to jump out my window, but I didn¡¯t wish to incur any more of their ire.


    I had to deal with enough ill will as it was, especially if I was in the past.


    For that matter, why send me to the past? Tales of gods and demons usually had reasons for rewards or punishments, but I couldn''t guess the cause of my situation. My head ached just thinking about it. As soon as I left this room, I would have to make my way to the nearest temple. I didn¡¯t like to owe people, and being in debt to a god seemed much worse.


    Did this mean I had to become devout?


    Which god would I even pray to?


    I¡¯d lived most of my life as a non-believer, and despite this miracle, I wasn''t sure if I wanted to change that.


    I sighed, moving away from the window. The brightness was unfamiliar and irritating.


    Walking to my dresser, I swiped my hands across, dashing everything to the floor, reveling in the clatter of jewels and shattering of glass and wood.


    My memories trapped me as much as the room. Adding to that was the silence. Nothing bled in from outside, and the only sounds were the ones I made.


    A million thoughts rattled in my brain, increasing the isolation and uncertainty that ate at me. A healthy mind and body weren''t the boons I expected.


    I forced myself to look in the mirror, staring at features that gave no clues about my age. Reflected was a pale face with mottled purple bruising, deep-set large eyes with red pupils, and gaunt cheeks. An unsuccessful attempt to dye my pink hair left it a muddy brown


    I could be anywhere from twelve to fifteen, the age range I lived in this room.


    Around my neck was a heavy chain to which a poorly wire-wrapped jasper hung. Speckled, flawed, and unpolished, a mark left by my mother that I cherished. Its loss pained me. My fingers wrapped around the stone.


    I stared at it, taking a deep breath and uncurling my fingers that unconsciously grabbed the chain, ready to yank it off.


    I¡¯ll take it off tomorrow.


    My stomach growled. The lack of food also didn¡¯t tell me anything. It was a common punishment I¡¯d endured growing up. They withheld meals for the slightest offense.


    The lengthiest confinement without food was when I confronted the Duchess about interfering in my marriage. That earned me ten days, and a caning which left me scarred. Said scars were missing, which was something at least.


    My hand drifted up my neck, fingers trailing over my unblemished skin. I didn¡¯t have any scars at this point. I¡¯d collected my first when I was told about my marriage and never stopped after that.


    Closing my eyes, I took a deep breath.


    Don¡¯t think about it.


    The smell of burnt flesh lingered in my nose, and a searing pain caused me to double over and drop to the floor.


    It¡¯s not real.


    I took gasping breaths, hands clutching at my dress as my eyes steered unseeing.


    This was something new, another exploitable weakness that needed to be concealed and managed. It happened more than once, reality blurring as the past trapped me, and I relived my worst memories in frightening detail.


    It didn¡¯t happen in the past when my thoughts were incoherent and stilted; only the leftover instincts of survival and love keeping me moving as I wandered around battlefields shrouded in the stench of death.


    Another painful rabbit hole I was unwilling to look down.


    Nails biting into the flesh of my palms, I focused my thoughts. Since there was no scar on my neck, the meeting where the Duke told me about my marriage to Baron Smolt hadn¡¯t happened yet.


    I had seen my father three times in my life. The first was when my mother sold me to him. The second was when he told me about my engagement. The last was at my sister¡¯s wedding.


    I wasn¡¯t looking forward to it. Our previous meeting never went well for me, but with my luck, that second meeting would happen soon. It would be interesting to see how it changed, if I could change it.


    Taking slow and deliberate moves, I got off the ground and sat in front of the mirror again, tugging at my lips until I wore an integrating smile and expression. I was out of practice concealing my emotions.


    That wouldn¡¯t do.


    A moment of carelessness could put me in a worse situation than I was before.


    Wasn¡¯t that a sobering thought?


    I didn¡¯t doubt for a minute that they would permanently confine me to my room if there were any suspicions I might disrupt their plans.


    I was here, and there was nothing I could do to change that.


    I¡¯d have to get on with it like I did everything else, one step at a time.


    A wry smile twisted my lips. The expression in the mirror was grotesque for a second before smoothing into a parody of a na?ve smile. The eyes gave me away. I couldn¡¯t hide the hardened sheen to them.


    I looked at the scattered bits and ends on the floor. Seeing a pair of scissors, I grabbed them and hacked at my hair until I had shaggy bangs that blurred my eyes.


    It would have to do.


    Looking like a haggard beggar would make most people avoid me more. I practiced the smile again. The naivety shone through, and the bangs added a foolish element to the look. A silly thing¡ªthe words popped into my mind. I needed that. I needed to gather information while lying low. If you know the future, it should be easier to take it one step at a time, but that wasn¡¯t the case for me.


    I¡¯d spent most of my time locked away, and when freed, I paid little heed to what was happening around me as I swaggered around with an inflated ego.


    There was even less to say after marriage.


    Even knowing that my family raised me to behave that way, I still lamented my stupidity.


    As it was, I had two choices if I could change things: give up my noble status to avoid marriage or accept the marriage and try to escape the outcome of my past life.


    I looked in the mirror again, not recognizing the face looking at me. I don''t know where I''d heard it, but someone said there were seven sufferings: birth, old age, sickness, death, resentment, separation from loved ones, and not being able to get what one asked for. Which of these have I not endured?


    Well, forty wasn''t old, but I''d felt ancient by then.

 Ch 3 - Getting Ready

    Spluttering and gasping for air, I tried to keep my head above water. My nose and throat burned, and I took heaving breaths, gurgling and gulping. My dress tangled around my legs, making kicking impossible. It got heavier and heavier, dragging me down.


    Help.


    I couldn¡¯t speak.


    Help me, please!


    My arms flailed as I struggled against the hands holding me down.


    There was a splash of frigid water that sobered my mind.


    I came awake with a jolt. A maid stood by my bed, watching me. She wore a black uniform, her white apron yellowed and stained with brown spots. A pail was in her hand, and another empty one was on the floor. She didn¡¯t bother to hide her disgust. ¡°Wha¡¯ you making all tha¡¯ racket for?¡± Her accent was as deplorable as her conduct. A sneer distorted her pretty face, pale and dotted with freckles across her cheeks.


    I ducked my head. The onslaught of emotions was so overwhelming. I felt raw, jumping from a cold, hollow echo to flashes of intensity that left me clammy and uncertain. There were moments when things felt distant and others when I felt too much.


    My emotions swung like a pendulum, refusing to settle. I slumped back in bed, the heels of my hands pressed to my eyes, a scream trapped in my throat.


    I don¡¯t want to do this.


    It seemed easy when I planned it alone, locked away and protected from the horrors I¡¯d have to endure.


    I yelled as she yanked my arm, dragging me out of bed, my legs catching on the sheets, and throwing me forward as my knees buckled. The little strength I had left my body. I landed hard on my knees, jaw snapping shut, teeth-rattling, and my ears ringing. I was already weak from hunger and from being startled awake.


    ¡°Can¡¯ you not give problems? Look a¡¯ th¡¯ mess you made tha¡¯ I will have to clean up,¡± she said. Her voice was low and would have been pleasant if not for the petulant whine that sounded comical with her naturally sultry tone. I bit my lips, swallowing the vomit that burned the back of my throat.


    I was the one giving problems?


    She looked at me like I was something dirty¡ªlike I was beneath her. I wanted to spit in her eyes, but had to close mine as spots danced before me, my vision blurring. If this carried on, I would pass out.


    She shook me. ¡°Get up. Get up. Why I go¡¯ to be in problems for you?¡± Her nails bit into the flesh of my arms. She regarded me suspiciously and seemed to search for something in my face. ¡°This is your plan. You wan¡¯ta get me in trouble.¡±


    I tried to push her away, but my limbs were putty. There was a rank smell coming from her dress. I gagged, trying to shift my head, but she grabbed my hair, jerking me back.


    It was too much.


    I threw up. Yellowy-green bile splattered on her dress and dribbled down my chin. She ripped my head back, making a sound of disgust, and I choked before she threw me to the floor.


    Coughs wracked my body as I struggled to breathe.


    I didn¡¯t get a moment to pull myself together before she yanked at my dress. When nothing she did could get it off, she got a pair of scissors and cut at the fabric.


    ¡°Ain¡¯t nothing noble about you. But. Still, you go¡¯ a meeting with th¡¯ Duke. Go¡¯ a be clean.¡± She grabbed my arm and pulled me along. ¡°Why I go¡¯ to do this? Draw a short straw tha¡¯ why.¡±


    I half-crawled to the tub as she dragged me along. When at the edge of the bath, she didn¡¯t hesitate to push me in, the cold water making my teeth chatter. Instinct had me attempting to crawl out, but she suppressed me.


    I looked at her, steering into her eyes only to be taken back when I didn¡¯t see any malice, only determination. She pressed her lips, scrubbing at my skin unseeing, almost peeling off a layer of skin.


    What is this?


    ¡°Ahmm.¡±


    My head snapped around. At the door stood a portly woman who wore a modest green dress that covered everything but her hands and face. She had her hair pulled into a bun that was so tight it stretched the skin of her face.


    Madaline, the housekeeper or matron of the keep, I couldn¡¯t forget her.


    I trusted her.


    No, this is where I started trusting her.


    I looked between her and the maid, who was attempting to rip my hair out in the guise of washing it, a sinking feeling lodging in my gut.


    ¡°Helga, that is no way to treat the young lady,¡± she said, her voice pitched low in a stern tone. Madaline moved closer, the chatelaine at her waist clanking with every step.


    ¡°This ain¡¯t no lady. Tha¡¯ is worse than the street rats down by the slums.¡± Helga, that was her name, maybe. My instinct was to trust anything Madaline said, but the more I thought about it, the more wrong this felt.


    It was too precise, choreographed, even.


    The servants were never polite to me, but this was the first instance of outright violence. I thought back to what happened the first time. I couldn¡¯t remember if it was the same maid, but something similar occurred. Only I¡¯d been awake, and she threw the water at me while I stood cursing. She¡¯d also done it in retaliation, I think. I remembered insulting the maid first. Madaline still came in at the same point when the maid forced me into the bath.


    Why was Helga carrying two pails of ice-cold water with her? I never questioned it.


    Since they allowed any rabble off the street to serve me, they often behaved in a way that got them fired quickly. I never thought much of it.


    Around this time, a maid seduced my oldest brother. She had some success, but he later kicked her out.


    No. That didn¡¯t make sense.


    I lost that train of thought as Madaline spoke. ¡°Your actions are inexcusable. As servants of the Duchy, employees should uphold a certain standard regardless of their personal views. This treatment of your charge is deplorable, and I won¡¯t allow it. Please leave. I want you to report to the head butler. He will know what to do with you.¡±


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    I blinked. Those words were the same. My mind rebelled at the implication, but I couldn''t deny it. To do so was a waste of the chance I''d been given.


    What a beautiful play. Fifteen-year-old me was taken in by this, enamored by the first person to protect me. Not even a little suspicious. Madaline wasn¡¯t even doing anything great. She won my loyalty and trust with the bare minimum.


    ¡°My lady,¡± Madaline said, coming to my side as Helga tried to slink out of the room, but her steps were wrong, an excited hop instead of dread at being fired. She didn''t even protest or beg not to be fired. She just hurried out of the room with a half smile and a blush staining her cheeks.


    Madaline didn¡¯t pause. ¡°I can¡¯t believe this has been happening. No more. I won¡¯t allow it anymore. I have the perfect replacement, someone I can trust to care for you. I have a niece who I raised at my side and she will take over my position in the future. That girl is still a bit clumsy, but she will serve you wholeheartedly. Why don¡¯t you meet her and then decide?¡± The tone of righteous indignation was just right.


    She made it seem like my choice, giving me power over my life when, until this point, I''d had little control.


    I marveled, knowing I should take notes. This behavior needed to be studied and emulated if I wanted to be anything other than a loser. The awful bitter thing in my stomach wreathed. I died not suspecting Madeline, cherishing my few memories of her and Catherine as the only ones who were kind to me when I lived in the Duchy.


    Yes, asking me to decide was a nice touch. I tried to think of an age-appropriate response but drew a blank. I was over forty when I died, and it was hard to remember what happened when I was fifteen, much less how I behaved. Young, stupid, reckless, and willful were the character traits I would try to portray. I hadn¡¯t interacted with these people often and hoped they wouldn¡¯t notice the change in my behavior. The best thing working for me was the preconceived notions they already had. They probably wouldn¡¯t suspect the useless thing they looked down on to become smart. ¡°The water. It¡¯s cold,¡± I said. I didn¡¯t need to fake the effect of my teeth chattering.


    If Madeline cared about me, she''d have fed and clothed me before having this conversation. I shifted my hands, covering myself under the water. It took me a long time to get used to being naked around strangers and being served.


    Yes, that''s right. Before this, the maids never helped me bathe, and when Catherine started, I was too embarrassed to have her do it. I also wanted her to like me and I tried to be as independent as possible so she wouldn''t feel like a servant.


    ¡°Silly me. Catherine?¡± she called, moving closer to the tub. A touch of her finger to the water turned it warm. ¡°Poor dear. Why don¡¯t you take a few moments to warm up?¡±


    A girl a few years older than me came into the room. She wore a gray uniform with a white apron, differentiating her from others. She was a lady¡¯s maid.


    I was so flattered. I peeked at Catherine with sparkling eyes, accepting that I''d lived my whole life in vain as a hopeless idiot.


    Catherine followed me even after I married, but when she was twenty-five, she returned to the Duchy to get married. Fond days, when she advised me on everything, and we were, in my eyes, the best of friends. I''d depended on her¡ªneeded her to stay sane. She''d left without saying goodbye, and I couldn''t begrudge her that. Not then, but now. Now I wondered and hated.


    ¡°Hello.¡± I kept my shoulder hunched, head low. My action of peeking at her wasn''t even fake. A part of me still hoped, unwilling to give up on the relationship we could have.


    ¡°It''s a pleasure to meet you, my lady.¡± She bowed, her posture perfect. Madaline gave a satisfied hum. ¡°Alright. That is more like it. I still have other things that I need to do. Don¡¯t worry, Third Miss, I will check in to ensure Catherine is doing her job properly. You can also lodge a complaint if her service isn¡¯t satisfactory.¡±


    ¡°Thank you.¡± With Catherine''s help, I stood. I looked down and stared in shock at the state of my body. My hip and rib bones protruded through paper-thin skin, under which a maze of green wormy veins lay. I panicked, sinking back into the water and wrapping my arms around my legs.


    I pressed my forehead against my knee and squeezed my eyes closed. A moment¡ªI needed a moment. "Sorry," I said, looking up when I felt more in control. "Thanks for helping with¡ªyou know."


    ¡°It¡¯s what I should do.¡± Madaline glanced at me before looking away. With a nod to Catherine, she was out the door.


    Really, the barest minimum.


    Catherine crouched beside the tub, towel in hand. ¡°Why don¡¯t we get you dressed while I ring for breakfast? Would you prefer that?¡±


    The kind look in her eyes shook my conviction. I found it hard to believe that it was all fake.


    I took the towel with a murmured thanks. I was too hungry to be having all these thoughts. She''d reveal her true self given enough time.


    After I dried off and put on my undergarments, Catherine helped me get dressed and sat me in front of the vanity table.


    I looked in the mirror, marveling. Catherine was a veritable treasure. It took special skill to style an outfit that clashed this much, despite using the best items in my wardrobe. She¡¯d also picked a dress that highlighted the ugly necklace I wore. I caressed it before dropping it, where it nestled back into the ruffles at my neckline.


    That wasn''t long. Twenty minutes and she''d dashed my hopes that we could be friends again.


    Catherine didn''t hate or look down on me, but I wasn''t important to her¡ªI was a means to an end in whatever scheme Madeline had. I was pitiful, and it took nothing for her to show me kindness while we were together.


    ¡°You are so beautiful,¡± she said, brushing my hair. ¡°I¡¯ve always heard about the distinct pink hair of the Kala Tribe, but this is my first time seeing it.¡± She twisted and twined until I wore braids and curls suited to a woman much older than I.


    Liar, I thought. With my hairstyle, bruised skin, and gaunt features, I looked like a grandma-ghost. ¡°No wonder so many of the maids are jealous of you. I¡¯m glad I will be serving at your side; I''m sure I''ll have a bright future.¡±


    Her words struck a never, bringing back a conversation I''d had with a mercenary at the start of the war. I''d almost signed a bad contract and got cheated out of my pay. Remember, when someone''s lying, they don''t use connections. I did not instead of using I didn''t¡ªstuff like that. Doesn''t work every time, but you have to look for that and other things. Like now that you''re listening to me, you''re tilting your head to the side and leaning your body towards me. Avoiding eye contact is obvious so most people train themselves out of that, but sometimes that''s a problem cause they stare at you dead on like they''re forcing you to believe them. People don''t really stare into each other''s eyes like that. It''s creepy and not natural. Also, sometimes you can''t help fidgeting like touching something or shifting from side to side. Lots of liars have a tell¡ªlike old Roddy always asks the question back before answering, and Tanny opens her fan and hides her mouth.


    Marcus, he''d died shortly after that.


    I pushed the thought out of my mind, looking at Catherine as she moved about. She didn¡¯t complain when she picked through the jewelry scattered on the floor or kneeled to search for bobby pins. She did everything just right¡ªas if she was happy to help. No, this was a show for me. She proved her dedication and displayed that, despite my status, she didn''t mind serving me. Her actions mirrored her words, proving that I could believe her, influencing me even if I was skeptical.


    I¡¯m glad I will be the one serving at your side; I''m sure I''ll have a bright future.


    She wasn''t glad to be serving me, but there was something she could get only if she were by my side. Also, ''the one serving'' was unnecessary to the sentence¡ªeither she was rambling or Madaline could have chosen someone else as my maid.


    If it was the former, it didn''t matter, but if it was the latter, I could use Catherine. There was a replacement for her, so she would do anything to stay by my side.


    I ducked my head, racking my fingers through my bangs and pulling them forward while acting shy. I refused to let her comb my bangs back or style them, and she didn''t insist.


    Just a steady stream of shameless flattery that went on from the moment she helped me get dressed until now. She didn¡¯t bother with this much after today in my past life. She didn¡¯t have to, having completely won me over.


    With the last pin in place, she said, ¡°It¡¯s time to meet the Duke.¡±


    But I haven¡¯t eaten¡­, the words died before I said them. It was for the best. At least, now I wouldn¡¯t vomit on the duke like I did the last time.


    No. I was fine now, but it was harder to think when hungry and I couldn''t afford mistakes.


    "Foo¡ªod," I stuttered out. "Just some bread."


    "You can have a meal," she said. "The Duke wouldn''t mind waiting a bit, so you can eat.


    I tried to think of the last time and what had happened.


    Ah, her flattery had emboldened me and I''d summoned a full-course meal. I''d asked for the same thing the rest of the family ate for lunch. The heavy, oily food was hard for my body to digest and I''d made a fool of myself. I didn''t want to get hit¡ªso I wouldn''t do it again. There were plenty of other ways to make a fool of myself in front of him.


    "Soup and bread," I said, bouncing in my chair in excitement. "It will--" I caught myself. "It''ll be hot, won''t it?!"


    Catherine looked at me with pity before looking away. "I''ll make sure it''s hot, and the bread is fresh." As she walked out of the room, I couldn¡¯t help wondering what else would change.

 Ch 4 - Father-Daughter Relations

    There was something about him, the Duke, my father. It was the way he sat, tucking his wand back into its holster, one leg crossed over the other, hands folded, resting on his knees. Calm and collected. A man who knew he was powerful, someone to be feared. It was obvious he was used to adoration and deference. He looked at home in this room with its dark wooden furnishings and gold filigree.


    We were in his office. On the left side, near a fireplace, there was a sitting area with a couch, two armchairs, and a low center table with a few travel books on top. I sat in one armchair, and the duke in the other.


    On the right side of the room were two small desks where his aids probably worked. Behind them were cabinets, and a slightly opened door through which you could see another desk and more papers. Behind those were tall windows overlooking the training hall¡ªnot the best view.


    Centered and to the back of the room was his desk, and behind it were two towering bookshelves framing a tall window with a view of the west garden. On his desk were stacks of paper, a communication orb, and several magic items I couldn¡¯t identify. The ink well was still open, as though he¡¯d been working until I came.


    It was funny¡ªsomeone did those little details for me to see and appreciate, but I was too nervous to notice anything in my past life. I might have felt flattered that he took a moment out of his busy day to meet me if I didn¡¯t know the truth. He always took afternoon meals with the family, and for an hour after, he spoke to each of the children about what they were doing and how their schooling was going. He would arrange more time if they needed to talk to him about something specific.


    I wasn¡¯t a special person whom he took a moment out of his busy day to meet. The duke fitted me in as a business appointment. Which told me there was a hidden benefit to my marriage. Even at my silliest, I''d figured out he always acted with purpose.


    I picked at the hem of my dress, remembering being young and sitting outside the door waiting to be called in. When I came here at age seven, I thought they would invite me to join those family meetings if my manners got better, or when my magic manifested, or if my studies improved. I don¡¯t know when I let go of that hope, just wanting him to pay attention to me, for anyone to pay attention.


    I needed to know why I existed¡ªwhat I''d done wrong or ought to do better.


    That hadn¡¯t changed, despite knowing this man didn¡¯t care about me.


    I sat in front of him, sweaty palms, head down, not daring to look at his face, and it burned to realize I wasn¡¯t acting. The shame and nervousness were the same, despite my age and everything I¡¯d lived through.


    I was still worried about our father-daughter relationship, despite his callous indifference in the later part of my life. I didn¡¯t know what that meant, except I wanted his love, but would settle for approval or a little respect.


    I wouldn¡¯t get it, but I couldn¡¯t help what I wanted.


    I played with my fingers, wondering why it was like this.


    I hated him.


    I¡¯d died hating him.


    Sitting here, I still hated him, but I also wanted to know why he didn¡¯t like me.


    Hurry! Speak. Let''s get this over with. I buried my head lower, my neck straining from the action. It doesn¡¯t take much to create hate¡ªa bit of negligence. A dash of fear here and a sprinkle of pain there. Lots of loneliness.


    I glanced through my bangs at the blurry outline of the man before me, wondering why death or time didn¡¯t give me the gift of indifference.


    ¡°Let¡¯s talk,¡± he said, lifting a bell from the side table and ringing it. The bell didn¡¯t sound, but a moment later, a butler entered the room and placed a cup of tea on the table in front of the duke before leaving. The butler didn¡¯t acknowledge my presence. ¡°I¡¯m sure you¡¯re curious about why I called you here.¡± Our eyes didn''t meet often, but when they did, I could see his disinterest¡ªhis irritation that I was breathing the same air as him.


    I nodded, not trusting my voice to speak. I very much felt like crying and crumbling to pieces.


    ¡°That is a given. I have been too busy managing the affairs of the Duchy to spend too much time with you, but as your father, there are still things that I am responsible for.¡± His tone was noble and upright. He didn''t fidget or not use conjectures¡ªevery word coming out of his mouth he believed to be the truth.


    I knew they were lies, but I believed them too.


    He paused, and I thought this was an appropriate time to nod. My head bobbed up and down, eyes still staring at my scuffed shoes. It wasn''t anything I didn''t know. The duchy came first, then his children, next was his wife, and there were a million things before me.


    As I sat there, feeling fourteen, I wondered how to get higher on his list. It was silly, odd, and heartbreaking. Everything in me wanted to escape, but I''d stay if this man asked me to.


    You could be reading stolen content. Head to Royal Road for the genuine story.


    Thankfully, I wouldn''t have to guard against that (I wasn''t sure I could) our interactions were few and far between.


    ¡°Good. I assure you that while I''m not the most expressive parent, I take the role seriously. As such, it''s my duty to find you the most suitable match. After much deliberation, I believe I have found that person. Baron Smolt is a famed gentleman with an impeccable heritage and learning. He recently inherited his father''s title, and in a year, when you turn sixteen, he will be twenty. For women, a four-year age gap is just right.¡± His tone was dry as he delivered the words, not bothering to fake the emotions it would take to convince me he cared.


    Why swap brides?


    I couldn¡¯t fake a blush, too much horror and dread coursing through my blood, so I buried my head lower and dug the toe of my shoe into the carpet. I should practice being bashful. It was also important to learn how to control the fear I felt every time I thought about my marriage and ex-husband.


    ¡°I have also secured a match for your sister. It will be a blessed year for the Duchy. Two marriages, and one to the crown prince, no less.¡± The pitch of his voice changed, and I could hear his excitement.


    That raised more questions in my mind, and I had nowhere to turn for answers.


    Did he know what would happen?


    Had that always been the plan or circumstances changed later?


    I couldn¡¯t stop the shudder that ran through my body, but I forced the memories away and swallowed the vomit that filled my mouth.


    How did I react to this last time?


    I¡¯d been jealous.


    Who wouldn¡¯t be? Even commoners could tell the difference between a baron and a crown prince.


    Ah, I remembered. At least the trembling that I couldn''t stop would look like anger.


    Flying to my feet. ¡°Why does she get to marry a prince, and I¡¯m stuck with a baron?¡± Were my words too forced? No, I could feel long-forgotten anger bubbling to the surface. I grabbed a book from the table and threw it to the floor. ¡°It¡¯s not fair!¡± I wished I hadn''t eaten as my stomach rolled, and standing made me dizzy with my bruised knees threatening to give out. I kept going, something inside making my mouth move. ¡°There¡¯s nothing special about her. Why do I always have to accept her scraps?¡± I asked, not having said this in the past, but it was how I felt now. "What did I do wrong?" I asked. The tears I held back fell as I looked to my father for answers.


    I was on the floor before I knew what happened.


    My hand cupped my cheek, a familiar burn spreading.


    I looked at his shoes and felt his presence towering over me. I buried my face in the silk rug, and my tears dried up, but laughter caused my shoulders to shake.


    So¡ªthat''s how it was¡ªthe hit would have happened regardless of what I said. Good to know. The Duke would have found an excuse to hit me even if I stayed silent.


    At least the carpet was softer than the cave. The duke''s hand hurt more than the metal gauntlet, though¡ªhis slap shook my heart and soul.


    I tasted the blood in my mouth. Something about this scene reminded me of what happened with Madeline earlier. It felt staged¡ªnothing I said or did warranted this reaction.


    I thought about it more before getting the answer¡ªcarrot and stick. The words popped into my mind, and a picture started forming. After this, I would turn to Catherine for comfort, increasing my dependency on her. There was nothing more malleable than an ignorant, fearful child.


    Okay. The duke knew the plan from the start. It also meant that Madeline and Catherine were working for him.


    It was only a small piece of the puzzle, but I felt better as it started coming together. I was also relieved that I could hate without reservation. I didn''t need to worry about any of them when I made my plans.


    Next, did the Baron know?


    The crown prince was ignorant and was just as shocked as I was when it happened.


    I bit my lip to stop from saying more. I didn¡¯t need to collect any scars from running my mouth. Thinking about what happened in the past, if I spoke again, the Duke would throw the cup at me, shattering it, and a shard of glass would cut my neck.


    I''d have to be careful. He planned the slap, and probably the glass toss, too.


    I pulled myself up, but stayed on my knees, watching his hands.


    The things that were blurry in my mind rushed back. I remembered how I was supposed to behave.


    An unruly child when I was alone.


    A dog when I was in front of my father.


    An ant when I was before my siblings.


    And shit clinging to the bottom of a shoe when I was in front of the Duchess.


    I, Jal, illegitimate daughter, was to provide amusement and stress relief for the whole family.


    I could do that. I had to.


    I grit my teeth, holding on to the knowledge that I could change the future¡ªcomforting myself. No one here cared about what was best for me, and I''d have to fight to ensure I didn''t die a dog''s death again.


    Something shifted inside me and running away wasn''t the only thing I wanted to do.


    If this were my reality, I would make it a nightmare for everyone else. I took a deep breath, letting my anger and disappointment go. Letting anger affect and control me was punishing myself for other people¡¯s sins.


    At that thought, I felt lighter, not just my mind, but my body. I hadn¡¯t realized how strained I was until it disappeared.


    ¡°You will get married to who I tell you to, and you will be happy about it. Your marriage is about more than you, and I have considered everything from your status; to your comportment; and your value. You can¡¯t do better than a baron. I wish you could. It would have greater benefits, but you¡¯re worth that. If Baron Smolt weren¡¯t a noble of the duchy, and his family didn''t owe us a favor, it wouldn¡¯t be your turn to marry him." He threw the glass. I was glad I''d been watching his movements. I screamed and threw myself to the side, protecting my neck. "You can¡¯t use magic. You have failed all your etiquette classes. And you¡¯re a bastard who can¡¯t give birth to a son. I had to pay him to take you.¡± He sat listing my faults in a bland tone, my shoulders hunching at every word.


    The silver tip of his shoe tapping on the floor made me spiral into memories.

 Ch 5 - Past, Future...Present

    A mixture of helplessness and anticipation twisted my gut. It was a year coming, but it didn''t seem real as I stood at the altar as a married woman.


    He only had to lift my veil, slide the ring on my finger, kiss me, and then take me home. Now that I thought about it, we still had plenty to do. I folded my lips, smacking them as I imagined what was expected of me later.


    I didn''t want to.


    I hadn''t wanted to sign our vows either, but he''d held my hand as I hesitated, and that had to mean something.


    Baron Smolt was always polite to me. I didn''t know if I''d find the happiness I always wanted, but he didn''t seem the type to be needlessly cruel to me.


    A pair of hands reach out to lift my veil. I can''t help my excitement, but the smile on my face freezes as I see the man standing at the altar with me. I know him, but he isn''t my fiance. It wasn¡¯t Baron Smolt, who I¡¯d only met a few times but didn¡¯t like all that much.


    It was a different man.


    A man I saw frequently from a distance. He was always beside my sister, wearing a charming smile with his princely demeanor. I''d watch them walking through the garden, followed by a trail of maids and footmen.


    I''d dreamed of being at his side. I''d ensure it was just the two of us if it were me. That would be sweeter. We could talk without worrying about our manner or what the surrounding people would think. But Selena always liked to make a scene. She wasn¡¯t happy if she wasn¡¯t the center of attention. There were always a bunch of people around her, telling her what she wanted to hear and pandering to her.


    Where is she?


    She was supposed to be standing here. She should be the one marrying the prince, not me. The thought that she was at the altar with Baron Smolt was thrilling. Our fates exchanged in a sense.


    I smiled at him, unable to contain the happiness I felt. I don''t care how they mixed us up, but he was mine now. He''d get to know me and learn I was better than her.


    The shock melted off his face, and he smiled at me. It¡¯s just as charming as I''d dreamed. My heart raced as his hands fell to his side. Fist balled, unable to control his excitement.


    I knew we had a connection. He''d always go out of his way to greet me when he came to the keep. Selena wouldn''t let him spend time with me, but I knew he would have if Selena gave him the chance.


    I fiddled with the marble in my pocket. He''d given it to me. A little secret gift as he''d left the castle after visiting. I cherished it.


    Did he still have the bracelet I gave to him? I spent so much time choosing the beads and making them just right.


    The sun shined through the stained-glass window, bathing us in holy rays that made us look ethereal.


    My smile brightened, and I clutched the bouquet in my hands. There was a murmur in the temple, but I didn''t let it bother me.


    This shouldn¡¯t have happened, but we had already said our vows. Our marriage was valid, and no one could separate us. I glanced at the crowd, a frown forming¡ªI noticed the pews where my family had sat were empty now. I''d wondered why they were here, to begin with.


    I looked around, just realizing why this wedding was so grand. But why was the run-through for my wedding held here? This was my dress?


    I didn¡¯t need them here, anyway. A sweet smell rose from the bouquet in my arms, distracting me. I pushed all the useless thoughts away, unwilling to let them ruin this moment for me. It was heady and made my head spin. I raised my arm, keeping my wrist soft, waiting.


    He paused.


    I giggled.


    The prince must be as stunned and happy as I was.


    I realized I didn''t know his name. I was always too shy to ask, and they''d never introduced me to him. He¡¯d always been the crown prince to me. The unattainable happiness that couldn''t be mine. Something swelled in my chest. He knew who I was! Even though they never introduced us, he cared enough to find out about me. This happiness was mine and couldn''t be denied because of petty jealousy.


    Things dragged on, and it¡¯s hard to keep the smile on my face.


    Is something wrong?


    He won¡¯t leave, will he?


    Left at the altar.


    I couldn''t stand the thought.


    It wasn''t right to speak, but I had to do something.


    This was my chance! Our chance! He probably felt duty-bound to honor his promise to Selena¡ªthat''s how he was¡ªbut I couldn''t let his misguided honor and noble temperament interfere with our happiness.


    I moved my hand closer.


    His eyes fluttered and closed for a moment before they opened. His gaze was fierce as he stared at me. Something uneasy unfurled in a familiar place. I knew that look. I tried to pull back my hand, but he held it. It must be my imagination. I pushed the feeling away.


    Nothing that feels this good can be wrong.


    ¡°The rings,¡± he said, his eyes not leaving mine. His actions were rough as he slid the band onto my finger.


    It''s okay, he''s as nervous as I am. That had to be it.


    I reached for his ring, but he beat me to it. It slid into place, and my heart dropped.


    That¡¯s it.


    I¡¯m married, and I get to start my life over in a place where people will respect me. It was everything I always wanted.


    You could be reading stolen content. Head to the original site for the genuine story.


    So why did this feel so wrong?


    My thumb played with the band on my finger. One day, I will be the Empress. Above a thousand and below only one. I glanced at him; a blush stained my cheeks, and a shy smile curled my lips.


    He was looking away, a muscle in his cheeks pulsing.


    I wasn''t smart, but I could tell something was very wrong.


    *


    I looked at my reflection in the mirror.


    Three hours ago, I stood here, looking at a similar image. It was of a blushing bride who had some reluctance but was also excited. That girl was bright-eyed, with full lips, and hair the color of midnight framed by a glowing white veil.


    Now, I saw a fool.


    The bruise on my cheek was darkening, taking on that mottled red, black, and blue color I am familiar with. If I didn''t ice it, I wouldn''t be able to move my mouth tomorrow.


    The sparkle left my eyes, and I didn''t have the energy to feel uncertain. Our vows bound us together. There was no escaping this marriage.


    I turned away.


    He wouldn''t give me ice. He¡¯d be happy if my jaw swelled shut, and I could never say another word. He¡¯d be happier still if I died.


    Now that I was sober, I realized I was high on the atmosphere and my delusions, thinking the crown prince wanted to marry me.


    I could put two and two together to get four. My family left halfway through the wedding and my new husband''s shock at the face of his bride let everyone know the party responsible for switching the brides on our wedding days.


    If that wasn''t clear enough; the second I stepped into the bridal chamber, my new husband backhanded me, making it clear who''d bear the brunt of the monarch''s anger.


    I took a seat and watched the door, waiting for his return.


    *


    ¡°You bitch.¡±


    I recoiled, shoulders hunched to make myself as small as possible.


    He threw things at the ground and me, but I didn¡¯t dare to move. He didn''t care where they landed, so if I stayed still, I wouldn''t attract his attention and be less likely to get hit.


    I wasn''t the smartest, but listening to his cursing, I realized my father had done more than insult the royal family.


    "Get up."


    I sprang up, knowing what would happen if I hesitated. I also knew what was coming and angled my body to the side. It was better for him to hit my side and back.


    He barreled at me, arm raised. I wanted to duck but made myself stay still.


    He likes the chase. Don''t run. It''ll be worse if you run. He''ll want to do things after if you run.


    ¡°The fucking north is closed. The military is at the border.¡± He grabbed my throat. I choked, scratching at his arms, unable to stop myself. ¡°It¡¯s a coup. How dare they try to steal my throne!¡± His eyes were red and wild. It hadn''t taken long to realize something was off about him¡ªsomething wrong¡ªdeeper and more terrible than I could imagine.


    He threw me to the ground, and I landed on my back, glass shredding through the dress and digging into my skin. He stepped on my chest. I opened my mouth to beg, but it turned into a scream as he pressed down.


    ¡°You dressed up as your sister and married me. Are you satisfied? Am I everything you wanted in a husband?¡±


    On the ground, looking up at him, his excitement was obvious. "No. No. No. No. I''m sorry. I didn''t know. Please."


    He smiled. The same one I remembered, all charming.


    Oh, have mercy¡ªthis was what he wanted to do every time he smiled at Selena. They knew, and they sacrificed me to protect her.


    ¡°That''s enough, Marcus.¡±


    Relief swept through me. A moment later, the prince¡¯s foot was gone. I turned and crawled away, not caring as I scrambled through glass and broken things, carving into me, to put as much distance between us.


    ¡°Marcus, be a dear. Bring that thing hanging around that mongrel''s neck.¡±


    The old woman said something. I tried to focus on her, but things blurred together. My last memory was the prince yanking my mother¡¯s gift off my neck, and the steady sound of a cane tapping.


    *


    The duke¡¯s foot tapped impatiently at the floor. I shook my head, the memories receding, but the emotions and sensations lingered. I could hear the ringing chorus of the choir as I walked down the aisle and the keen of screams I made on my wedding night.


    I learned that night that no matter how bad you thought things were, they could always be worse.


    He let me stew before pointing to the chair when he¡¯d had enough of my cowering. ¡°Have a seat.¡± He nodded, satisfied with his reward and punishment play.


    I stood slowly, one hand cupping my cheek while the other clenched my dress. I thought of a few terrible things that happened in my life until tears streamed down my face. I hated it. I didn''t want to show weakness. They didn¡¯t deserve to see my pain or suffering.


    A bitch waiting for scraps of affection from her master. It was the start of a carefully crafted act, but that didn''t mean I had to like it. No. I shouldn''t get used to it. It was better that I hated every second.


    It wasn''t perfect; I didn¡¯t have experience or allies, and I was inferior to the rest of my family members, but if I didn¡¯t want to go to the capital as the crown princess¡ªI had to do something.


    Becoming a commoner would save me from one fate, but I¡¯d lived as one for years, and they weren¡¯t kind to bastards of nobles. It was a risk to hide my identity, and I was necessary to the duke''s plans so he wouldn''t just let me escape. I also didn¡¯t have any skills I could use to work and protect myself.


    If Selena marries the crown prince, will the war still happen?


    Wasn''t that a thought? The scale and magnitude of the task I was undertaking were daunting, but the worst that could happen was death. My last option, if all else, failed.


    I tuned the duke out as he rambled about duty to my name and house and how much he intended to do so I was ready for marriage.


    I could try finding my mother''s tribe¡ªno¡ªthat wasn''t an option.


    Baron Smolt it was. He was a tad stupid and didn¡¯t have long to live because of a birth defect, but it was better than nothing. I tried to remember when he died, but I couldn''t. I got the news a year and a half into my marriage, but I only knew that he died from illness, not when he passed. My body trembled, my stomach rolled, and my throat closed tight. I needed to have a child for him before he passed. There was a big difference between a widow with and without children. The baron also had younger brothers, no doubt eager to see the heir die. My mind rebelled at the thought. I didn¡¯t want to have any more children.


    My son¡ªsuch a sweet little burden.


    I buried my head in my hands¡ªthis wasn''t the time or the place.


    I needed to make sure I was the baron''s bride.


    I have to be.


    I needed to marry him.


    It''s my only option.


    It wasn¡¯t a perfect plan, but it was the best I could do for now.


    But other plans swirled in my mind. Vague fluttering things that I couldn''t put into words, my anger materialized into visions and dreams. I wasn''t resigned to my suffering, but I couldn''t change it. But, why was I the only one to suffer? I couldn''t drink poison and expect others to die. I¡¯d make sure they drank a glass for every sip I took.


    Selena and the Duke¡¯s grand plans could go to hell. I''d make sure of it.


    I would.


    I''d figure it out.


    ¡°It has been weeks since I last saw you, and your manners are no better than the last. You can''t let your inferiority continue to dictate your actions as you represent the duchy. I don''t have high expectations, but try learning something from your etiquette teacher.¡±


    I bit off a laugh, turning it into a wail or a hiccup. Something terrible and guttural. ¡°But, she¡¯s terrible-¡±


    "I don''t have time for excuses. She has excellent references and the girls under her tutelage are always impeccable."


    That was true. There was plenty to learn from her, but it also showed that she deliberately didn''t teach me. I''d always been eager in her class and listened to what she said, even when she used the switch to correct me.


    I listened to him patiently teaching and I can¡¯t help wondering.


    Why do they all like to slap so much?

 Ch 6 - A Taste of Power

    With my stomach full and a cool cloth held to my face, I studied my hand. It was new to me. I was familiar with withered, worn fingers, perfect for scrubbing floors and picking through dead bodies. This maiden¡¯s hand was a wonder. I turned it this way and that, marveling at the pink-shell nails, smooth palm, and unblemished skin.


    It was a weapon.


    I''d never thought of it as such.


    Funny, I''d been harmed by it many times, but never thought of it¡ªnever thought of my hand as a tool that could cause the same pain.


    ¡°Catherine, come here,¡± I said, my heartbeat picking up. Although I was nervous, there was a strange calm. It was like I wasn¡¯t in control of my body¡ªor, I had too much control over my body¡ªit was my mind that was out of sorts.


    I focused on the feeling of her standing over that bath, her eyes as she trailed my body. I used to think her kind, a solace in my misery, but she must have been thinking I was filthy. After all those years, always by my side. I''d thought her comments odd at times, but now I knew they were snide, petty things¡ªknives hidden as words.


    A knife under my pillow, encouraging me to die.


    ¡°Yes, my lady?¡± Her tone was respectful, and her manners impeccable. It reminded me of the past. I''d compared myself to her and mirrored her actions¡ªlacking a tutor¡ªshe was the best teacher I had, short of asking her for actual lessons. Even now, if you looked carefully, you''d see a shadow of her in me. Catherine never changed, and it made everything harder and easier.


    In the end, it didn''t matter.


    I walked to her, taking a moment to get the angel right, keeping eye contact before I pulled my arm back and swung. The entire time, she watched me with her head tilted and a confused look. Catherine didn''t see it coming.


    Clap.


    It connected with her jaw. She screamed and landed with a thud.


    I watched on dispassionately as Catherine held her check, blood oozing from her split lip as she looked up at me.


    I flashed my hand.


    It hurt.


    I didn¡¯t expect that.


    It didn''t feel good. I didn¡¯t understand why people were so quick to hit others until I saw her on the ground, mouth agape, a mix of fear and confusion on her face.


    Oh, this is what it is.


    I felt powerful.


    I stepped closer, towering over her. From this angle, she seemed so small and helpless. My foot lifted before I stomped it to the floor, staggering back.


    What was that?


    Boot on my chest¡ªglass cutting into my flesh¡ªa cruel smile.


    <em style="text-indent: 45.3543px">Did I--


    I looked at her. The pain radiating from my hand was nothing compared to the rush I felt from seeing her on the floor.


    It was easy.


    All of it was too easy. One extra move and I would have gone too far.


    Who decides what''s too far?


    The feeling was addictive. I glimpsed the monster I might become, the monster I feared the most. The monster I might need to protect myself. I looked at my hand, rubbing my fingers together.


    It''s my due.


    I pushed that thought down. I stared at my feet, remembering how I had slogged through mud, every step an unbearable chore.


    How do I want to live?


    I didn''t have an answer, and it didn''t seem all that relevant given my circumstances, but the question swept away a layer of dirt, revealing a gaping hole that I needed to fill.


    ¡°What are you doing?¡± she stuttered, her tone off. "Are you crazy?"


    My head snapped up. Eyes wide, I knew I was seeing her for the first time. This was Catherine ¡ªhaughtiness, anger, and disbelief. I didn''t know if my actions were too unexpected or if she was too young, but she couldn¡¯t hide her indignation. Her tone was disrespectful, and something simmered in her eyes.


    Would she hit me back?


    I almost wanted her to try. I might not be worth much, but I was more valuable to the Duke than a single servant. For now, at least.


    Still, as the euphoria left, something unwelcome crept in. I pushed away a feeling too close to guilt. We weren''t friends. She didn''t care about me past her own goals. Her kindness meant nothing. Her pity was intolerable.


    I didn''t need a reason to hit her.


    I didn''t.


    They never had a reason other than they wanted to.


    Not moving, I waited for her to do something. Attack me, maybe. I''d been in her place. When I hid in the pain, waiting for it to end, I''d imagine what I''d do given half a chance. Was she thinking of scratching out my eyes? Or breaking my hands? Or stabbing me until I stopped moving?


    Catherine got up, fixed her dress, and bowed her head¡ªshe readjusted. ¡°Have I displeased you, my lady?¡±


    I was missing something, but I didn''t know what.


    I smiled, something fragile. I walked to the window, staring at the yard below.


    Anti-climatic but expected. I wanted her to get angry¡ªto fight back. I wanted her to be different.


    I wanted to be different.


    No. We were different. Catherine could tolerate me to achieve her goals. I''d sat in my suffering, waiting for someone to help me.


    I laughed, a low tinkling sound. It was joyful and light. My hand touched my throat and then my cheek. I couldn''t remember ever laughing like that before. ¡°Nothing. I was curious to see how it felt.¡± Catherine always knew my value. She never forgot what I was worth in relation to her goals. I was the only one who considered me useless.


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    I turned to face her, lifting my hand again, and she flinched, tucking her head.


    That¡¯s refreshing.


    I was familiar with that action, too. Be smaller, don¡¯t make yourself a target. If they decide to attack and you make too much noise, they''ll get annoyed and hit you more, but if you make too little noise, it would be boring, and they would try to get a reaction out of you.


    This was the second time I saw through Catherine . She wasn''t a stranger to being hit.


    I took a breath. Happiness came and left just as fast, leaving me with a hollow feeling and more guilt than I cared for.


    I hit her to feel superior, and she looked down on me to feel superior.


    What a pair we were.


    ¡°You should keep this between us,¡± I said, not believing for a second that she would. What type of spy would she be if she didn¡¯t properly report everything I did?


    Catherine could tell whomever she liked. There were benefits to being the brutish bastard, lacking in decorum. Violent would be another sin added to my long list of bad qualities.


    Preconceived notions were the best shield I had.


    ¡°I''ll go to town tomorrow. You should prepare for the trip.¡± I walked to the vanity, reached for the cloth I¡¯d used to cool my face, and pressed it to my hand. The pulsing was getting worse, and my hand was red. I wasn''t sure if I had broken a bone¡ªprobably not.


    It was hard to say it was worth it, but I didn¡¯t regret it.


    My guild didn''t ease, but it was easier to accept. I also felt the urge to do it again, but I ignored it. Taking my anger out on others was a slippery slope. Like every weapon, it had to be welded at the right time to be effective. Violence had its place, but if used too much, its effectiveness decreased. My husband taught me that.


    System Initiating.


    Minimum number of revenge points achieved.


    Binding.


    My head whipped around. What was that?


    ¡°Did you say something?¡± I asked. The voice hadn¡¯t sounded like Catherine''s. It was cold, distorted, and unfamiliar¡ªwrong to the ear, like hearing underwater.


    Was it a god?


    I didn''t have magic and was even less likely to be a prophet. Was it a demon?


    Catherine ¡¯s gaze was a mix of contempt and concern for a moment before it settled. ¡°No. I didn¡¯t speak, but I want to remind you that you have lessons with Lady Rintour tomorrow.¡± Her voice was cold, lacking that tinge of friendliness from earlier.


    "I am sorry," I said to Catherine . " I did not mean it. My dad hit me and it made me angry, but I should not¡ªI shouldn''t take my anger out on you. You have been so kind to me. I don''t know what I''d do without you." I''d made a mistake and exposed my hand, but Catherine wasn''t skilled enough to notice. The Duke and Duchess would know I was lying if I did that in front of them. I glanced at her through my bangs, gauging her reaction before looking away.


    I let out a relieved sigh when I saw her look of self-satisfaction.


    I moved, halting and tentative, my shoulders hunched until I stood at her side. I hooked a finger in hers, swinging her hand. "Forgive me, please? Hmm? Please!"


    There was a flash of disgust before a smile bloomed on her face, bright and truly happy, before she patted my head. "Just this time," she said, graciously, like forgiving a misbehaving pet. "I have a lot of respect for you, my lady, and I do not want you to become the type of noble that is obnoxious and cruel. No one will like you if you behave like that."


    I bobbed my head fast. "I won''t, I promise." I stuck to her side. "Can we--Can," I said, hanging my head, and digging the toe of my shoe into the carpet.


    "What is it?" she asked.


    "Can we be friends? I have¡ªI''ve never had a friend before."


    "You hurt me today, my lady. I''ve forgiven you, but it''ll take a while before we can be friends. You''ll have to work hard."


    I tucked my head, sneering. "Hmm. I promise to work hard!"


    "I''m looking forward to being friends. We''ll have so much fun and I can teach you so much." She walked closer, holding my hands and then squeezing them. "Does your cheek still hurt? I''ll get you some more eyes for your cheek."


    I''d bet my new life that Catherine was leaving to find her aunt.


    I thought of that odd voice. Maybe it''s nothing. A lot had happened recently, and it wouldn¡¯t be strange if I had a few hallucinations after starving for a few days.


    I turned my mind to a name that was both familiar and vague. Lady Rintour, a name I hadn¡¯t heard in a while. A scandalous one that fell out of favor soon. I cataloged everything I remembered about my etiquette teacher and started planning how to use that information to my benefit.


    I couldn¡¯t always have spies around me. I needed to build a network. If I couldn''t find allies, then at the very least, I had to find competent partners who were bound by mutual benefit.


    Which category did blackmail fall under? The lady, who many considered the social butterfly of the north, second only to the duchess and her two daughters, was pulled down and shamed, losing everything before being sent to a nunnery, where she died of ''illness'' after a year.


    When Catherine returned, I''d tell her to move my plans to leave the keep until the day after tomorrow. I''d also have to inform Typhon. Excitement filled my chest. It was my first time exploring the town. In my past life, I never went out because I was ashamed and I had even less freedom after marriage, so I couldn''t explore the capital.


    After I calmed down, I thought back to the meeting with the Duke.


    *


    I wondered how to end my father¡¯s nagging. My cheek was numb, and I wanted to splash some cold water on my face and get something to settle my stomach. In my past life, he shooed me out of the room after the glass cut my neck.


    I''d almost prefer that to this.


    I didn¡¯t dare interrupt him and wasn''t skilled enough to lead the conversation in the desired direction. It would be even better if I could make it seem like letting me leave the keep was his idea, but that was an even taller order.


    The words hovered on the tip of my tongue, looking for the best opportunity to come out. It would be best to make it look like I was just curious, having never left the castle¡ªthat would be normal for someone my age.


    ¡°Are you listening?¡± he asked, his finger tapping his knee.


    ¡°Yes, D, Father,¡± I said, sounding strange. I don¡¯t know when he changed from ¡®father¡¯ to ¡®the duke¡¯ in my mind.


    ¡°Were you about to call me dad?¡± he said, spitting the words. Anyone listening would think I''d said an expletive. ¡°How pedestrian.¡±


    Pain lanced through me, and I flinched. Selena called him Dad. Why was it offensive when I said it? ¡°Sorry.¡± I was useless, so simple, and I almost screwed up. If I lowered my head anymore, it would fuse with my chest, and I wouldn¡¯t be able to lift it, but I couldn''t lift my head. I wondered how he would feel if he knew what I planned to call him. He¡¯d probably prefer it. ¡°Ahmm. Sorry¡ªI apologize,¡± I said, fumbling through my words. His glare didn''t help, and the more nervous the harder it was to remember what to say.


    It didn¡¯t seem the best time to ask, but the most he could say was no, and I was running out of time.


    ¡°What is it?¡± he asked.


    I didn''t know I was fidgeting until he spoke. I stilled, then thought that was unnatural, so I started fidgeting again, feeling lost and uncertain about the whole thing. ¡°Can I go outside?¡± I asked, my words whispered and stuttering. I wanted to find a hole and bury myself.


    ¡°Your punishment has ended, and there are no restrictions on your movements within the castle.¡± He said. He raised his left eyebrow, looking at me like I was an idiot.


    I swallowed a scoff. There were no outright restrictions, but I knew they expected me to stay in my wing and make my existence as small as possible. I wanted to see his face, but couldn''t lift my eyes from his feet.


    My head felt weighted, anchored to the ground, but I forced my head up, just to prove I could. From beneath my lashes, I saw him un-holster his wand, waving it towards his desk before a paper floated over and nestled in his hand. To him, our conversation was over¡ªhe''d said what he needed to, and I''d have to hurry if I didn''t want this opportunity to pass. I wasn''t sure when I''d speak to him next.


    I stood to leave before stopping, wondering why I''d reacted that way to his silent dismissal. I hadn''t finished what I wanted to stay.


    I watched him, searching for the words and battling through the fear. This wasn''t my ex. This wasn''t the capital, but more than that, I needed to change. ¡°To the town. I¡¯ve never been. I want to go and see it for myself.¡± My words came out in a rush, so fast I bit my tongue and stumbled over the letters, chewing them up. My fingers twirled in the frills of my skirt. I plucked a loose thread and dropped it to the floor, liking how it ruined the perfectness of the room. A little, ugly, out-of-place piece of me left behind.


    I stood there frozen, not knowing if I should leave the room or try again. As I was about to say more, the door burst open, and a man dressed like a butler charged into the room.

 Ch 7 - Timing Matters

    I woke up feeling I¡¯d done something wrong, but it warred with the feeling that I hadn¡¯t done enough. My sleep was restless, the slap replaying in my mind, mixing with a dream about things I hadn¡¯t done. I couldn¡¯t forget the thrill of having Catherine at my feet, but she''d done nothing to me yet, and I had no proof that she¡¯d done anything to me in the past.


    As she entered the room to help me get ready, a part of me wanted to apologize again. This time I''d be sincere¡ªnot a practice attempt at manipulation.


    I didn¡¯t have a reason to hit Catherine. I wasn¡¯t angry or frustrated. It didn¡¯t even have to be Catherine. She was in the wrong place at the wrong time.


    I wouldn¡¯t, though. I''d already damaged my image enough and lowered myself enough. I didn''t want to make Catherine an enemy, but I couldn''t drop my guard or she''d take advantage.


    I shouldn''t have apologized at all if I listened to Lady Rintour.


    Apologies were a touchy topic. Nobles never admitted they were wrong because others saw it as a weakness. Not because they didn¡¯t know their actions were wrong. In a society where the strong preyed on the weak, it wasn¡¯t the done thing for good reason.


    I¡¯d spent a lifetime being weak and apologizing for things I didn¡¯t do. My words were as much a weapon as my hand and I''d learn to wield them with a deft hand. Damed if even my apologies weren''t knives aimed at the neck of my foes.


    That made me laugh. It was easy to say, but for all my grand proclamations, I didn¡¯t know how to save myself and was fumbling around.


    I huffed a breath, trying to ease the stuffiness in my chest.


    Slapping her had another effect, other than turning my palm red. Catherine was more subdued. Her speech was careful, and her movements weary. I used to think Madeline was kind to her. But her behavior suggested repeated beatings¡ªher arrogance was as much a defense as mine and she feared getting hit again. It was clear in how she flinched and watched my expression as we spoke. Yet, no matter how scared she was, she didn''t forget to remind me how much I needed her or how much she cared about me.


    Still, there was a crack in her armor that I planned to exploit.


    There was that feeling again¡ªlike I was doing something bad. Guilt. I acknowledged Catherine was young, but she didn¡¯t have any care or consideration for me. I was also young. The thought hit me as Catherine helped me dress. I was fifteen, and she was fourteen, a year younger than me.


    No one considered my age, as they included me in their plans. I tamped down the feeling. There were two choices: use or be used.


    Catherine was quiet this morning, and I missed her chattering. It always helped distract me from the daunting task ahead, but human hearts were weak. I watched the way she moved, her tentative steps, and the stiff way she held herself, my heart hurting even as I steeled it.


    I couldn''t protect her, so it wasn''t my right to pity her.


    Having Catherine stay silent meant it was less likely that I would become attached to her. I also reminded myself that silence was also a weapon. We''d ended on friendly terms last night. Her fear was genuine, but her silence was deliberate and an attack directed at me.


    Alright. The next move was mine.


    "Are you okay?" I asked, looking at her cheek, which was allowed to bruise.


    "Yes," she said, lifting her hand to her cheek, hatred flashing through her eyes. "I''ll just use this as a reminder."


    She wasn''t speaking to me, and, not for the first time, I felt like I was missing something.


    ¡°What type of magic do you have?¡± I asked, changing the subject. I should know, but magic was such a touchy subject for me, and I ignored all mentions of it and knew little about the discipline, despite growing up in a household of the most powerful magic user in the kingdom of Sargos.


    The hand brushing my hair paused. ¡°Fire, my lady.¡± My reputation for screaming and acting crazy when people brought up magic probably preceded me.


    Jealousy burned through me, but I pushed it down. I did that a lot, burying my feelings. ¡°I won''t get mad at you." I said, glancing at her cheek again. "Why¡ªWhy¡ªWhy did you become a maid?¡± I thought of my first meeting with the Duchess¡ªa blush stained my cheeks.


    She stared at me through the mirror before her expression eased. ¡°After my father died, my aunt helped my mother and me. I respect her. I will do everything to return the favor.¡± Catherine¡¯s hand started moving¡ªher actions stronger.


    Gratitude. How useless. Wait¡ªI turned the words over on my tongue, tasting the bitterness. I gave a dry chuckle. Yes, she was young and sheltered. Being my maid was as much a learning experience for Catherine as it was for me. I didn¡¯t have enough information to pass judgment, but Madeline''s kindness to Catherine had strings attached, and she might not care about Catherine much.


    Who would let a fire mage with unlimited potential and options become a lady-in-waiting for the most unfavored daughter of her employer?


    There was another crack, and I pressed forward. ¡°Did you spend a lot of time with Madeline?¡± Two weaknesses. I didn¡¯t know how to use them yet, but I was sure it would come in handy.


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    ¡°Are you curious about my aunt?¡± She asked. Her hand shook.


    I nodded. Catherine¡¯s eyes shone. It shocked me to see her weariness ease.


    Too easy.


    Calm down, I warned myself. I used myself and my experiences as a measuring stick. Catherine was afraid of Madeline, but she was calmer.


    Madeline gave instructions to Catherine. There was some message Madeline wanted to pass on to me. If Catherine completed the task, Madeline wouldn''t punish her.


    <blockquote>


    ¡°Madeline saved me too,¡± I said, pumping as much awe into my voice as possible.


    </blockquote>


    She clapped her hands. ¡°My aunt is a good person. She¡¯s always helping those in need. My mother¡¯s health has always been bad, and she couldn¡¯t manage after my father died, so she sent me to my aunt. My aunt didn¡¯t feel right separating me from my last living parent, so she brought my mother to live with her. She even arranged for me to work in the castle.¡±


    I listened to the excited lilt of her voice. Catherine was afraid of Madeline and, to some extent, hated her, but she was also grateful. I don''t remember if she told me this in my past life, but in this life, her words held different meanings. Catherine''s mother was basically a hostage to control Catherine. There were also notes of fervency that rang like brainwashing. Catherine desperately wanted to convince me her aunt was a ''good'' person. ¡°Who was your dad?¡±


    ¡°Viscount Mallot,¡± she said, her voice a mix of pride and sadness.


    The blurry image in my mind took shape. ¡°You are the Viscount''s only child?¡±


    She nodded, her eyebrows pinching together. Where is this going? Her face seemed to say.


    ¡°So, who is managing his position?¡± I stared in the mirror, marveling again at Catherine¡¯s ability to make any outfit she chose for me look as ugly as possible.


    ¡°My cousin is managing the position. I didn¡¯t think it suited me since I hadn¡¯t been good at studying since I was young. Aunt Madeline says it¡¯s my responsibility, so she thought it would be good for me to enter the castle and serve the duchess so I could learn.¡±


    That was the prettiest bullshit I¡¯d ever heard. It was hard to tell if Catherine believed what she was saying.


    Sargos was a cognatic primogeniture favoring the firstborn to inherit, regardless of gender. The only situation where the firstborn didn¡¯t inherit was when their younger sibling was overwhelmingly more magically powerful. I was curious about what happened to Catherine in my last life. Madeline needed Catherine dead or married to another titled noble¡ªthat way her son would become the viscount.


    If Catherine was half as smart as I thought she was, she knew that.


    ¡°You''re lucky Madeline¡¯s willing to help you with so much.¡±


    "So lucky," Catherine said with her head down.


    *


    Viscountess Rintour wasn¡¯t beautiful, not like Selena or I. Her eyes were a little too small, her forehead a bit big, and her chin so sharp she could slice you with it, but she was captivating¡ªno denying that. You might not notice her when she entered the room, but it was hard to look away once she had your attention. If I had to pick a word, I''d call her charming.


    I glanced in the mirror, assessing myself. A dress that was one size too big, not enough to make the wearer uncomfortable, but apparent to the trained eye of a gossipy noble. The color was a deep burgundy that aged me ten years and clashed with my hair, which was another disaster. Hands clenched, I resisted the urge to tug at the riot of tight ring curls that only toddlers or dolls wore.


    At the bottom were black kitten heels, three seasons out of style, a worse fashion crime than the too-large dress. At least my posture was good, standing tall with my shoulders back.


    I¡¯d have to work on keeping my chin up, having never grown out of keeping my head down when faced with anyone with a peerage. It was hard not to laugh at my stupidity. I only showed my arrogance to servants before time and circumstance wore it out.


    All around, I was a joke.


    Those same servants I lorded over likely laughed and cursed me behind my black. Even if they couldn¡¯t afford luxuries, they served by the side of those who did. With Selena by my side for added comparison, even I found my behavior ridiculous.


    My eyes turned to Catherine, who stood at the back of the room, pretending not to watch, but never looking away.


    A dark and acidic thing bubbled at the back of my throat and gut. A lady''s maid was more aware of the trends than anyone else. Her eye for what was in style was probably sharper than her mistresses.


    Head down, I swallowed. I''d stayed silent when Catherine dressed me, aware of her goal. I wanted her to¡ªlooking and acting silly was the best form of protection for now, but standing here dressed like a fool didn¡¯t feel good.


    Sigh, it was so nuanced. A maid trained to serve the Duchess had to leave that coveted position to tend to the arrogant, useless, illegitimate daughter. The set-up was flawless. Catherine only needed to act young and play a petty and small-minded character, which would cause problems in the future. They turned her into a blunt blade and sent her to my side. With that character, she wouldn¡¯t think the fault lay with her, but blame and take revenge on me instead. It was something a fourteen-year-old girl might do if serving an ignorant lady. She didn¡¯t take it too far, and it was something the surrounding adults would have to notice and stop. Everything was neat and had a logical explanation.


    A spark¡ªa thought¡ªmaybe they wanted her to take it further. What action was too far? If the Duke killed Catherine for interfering with his plans, they''d get a tidy ending.


    I looked at my hand. I felt sorry for her situation, but I still wanted to slap and stomp on her. In her mind, it was easier to target me because disrespecting me had no consequences.


    ¡°Are you listening to me?¡± Viscountess Rintour asked. I didn''t know what that look in her eye meant¡ªit wasn''t disgust, but I felt like a roach about to be squashed.


    I looked at her, signaling her with my eyes and a slow uncurl of my fan, lifting it to my mouth.


    She arched her brow, amused and curious. ¡°You there,¡± she said, pointing to Catherine. ¡°Go get three heavy books from the library.¡± Viscountess Rintour tapped her ruler against her palm while looking at me with dark eyes. It looked real. I thought the viscountess was about to hit me. Catherine suspected nothing as she left the room.


    The viscountess watched. That perfectly arched brow turned mocking somehow. ¡°Now that we are alone?¡±


    I steeled myself. I¡¯d never tried blackmailing anyone, but how hard could it be?


    ¡°How is Bradbury? Or was it Bradley?¡± I asked, knowing full well what his name was. ¡°Ah, no. How is Brandon?¡±


    Oh.


    It was the same, seeing Rintour stagger, her mouth gaping, and her famed composure gone.


    The tiny rush and racing heartbeat were the same as when I slapped Catherine.


    No, it was different.


    My heart threatened to leap out of my chest. My palms were clammy, but I did my best not to make it obvious I was nervous. I started pacing the room to hide the slight tremble in my leg and arms.

 Ch 8 - Blackmail is Hard

    ¡°I don¡¯t,¡± she said, a warble in her voice as her words trailed off.


    I stopped, turning to face her with my hands behind my back, clenched. ¡°Viscountess, my knowing affects nothing. Agree to help me and I won''t tell anyone. It''s that simple.¡± I stepped closer to her, trying to read her emotions from her eyes. My stomach dropped, and I wanted to turn around and run. ¡°What we need to focus on is your newest handmaid. She knows and hopes to use that knowledge to secure a marriage.¡± Should she ask how I knew, I wouldn¡¯t have an answer, but I¡¯d planned for that. She would investigate, and when the Viscountess couldn¡¯t find anything, it would increase the pressure she felt.


    While I was watching, she pulled herself together, and it left me off kilter.


    What went wrong?


    The rioting emotions in her eyes calmed, and a pleasant smile hung from her lips. ¡°What do you want, Jal?¡± The clap of her fan as it unfolded made me jump.


    I got the feeling this wasn¡¯t the first time someone blackmailed her, even though this was my first time as the blackmailer. I¡¯d expected her to ask how I knew, and when she didn¡¯t, it left me scrambling for what to say next.


    I rallied. She''s just trying to intimidate you, I remained myself. ¡°Nothing difficult. Frankly, you should have been doing it, anyway. All I want is for you to teach me.¡± Good. My voice came out strong, and the words were neither too fast nor too slow.


    I was about to continue when she laughed, tapping her fan against her cheek as she looked down at me from the tip of her pointy chin. ¡°Isn¡¯t this surprising?¡± Viscountess Rintour didn¡¯t look surprised. She had an expression I¡¯d seen a million times¡ªthat sparkle in her eyes, as if watching something amusing¡ªa monkey wearing a top hat and dancing.


    I couldn¡¯t tell if she honestly thought I was a joke or if she was doing this to throw me off.


    Just stick to what you practiced¡ªI thought, comforting myself. The worst that could happen would be the viscountess telling the Duchess; in doing that, she would have to confess her affair.


    I continued, snapping my fan closed and pointing it at her face. It was a rude gesture that fit my persona, but I just wanted to mock her. ¡°That,¡± I said, moving the fan up and down. ¡°That is what I want to learn. I¡¯m tired of being defenseless.¡± The aristocracy was a battlefield where they used clothes and titles as shields and words as weapons.


    ¡°I have been teaching you.¡± Rintour lifted her fan and pressed on my hand until I lowered it. She was surprisingly strong. Or maybe I was weak. My bravado was starting to abandon me, but it was too late to turn back.


    I laughed. That is why their scheme was perfect.


    The Viscountess was the ideal tutor. Her lessons in etiquette and other fields were standard for a girl in my age group. She went one step further and taught Selena and me the same thing. On the surface, it looked like I was having problems learning, but Selena started receiving lessons when she was eight, and I started two years ago at thirteen. I didn¡¯t have the proper foundation, and without that, it was impossible to learn the rest.


    ¡°Viscountess, I have lived my whole life as a fool, but that doesn¡¯t mean I¡¯m stupid. My father has set my marriage for the end of the year. While I have no problem continuing to be the problem child in the castle, if I get married and continued with that behavior, we both know what will happen.¡± That sentence explained my motives and gave a suitable catalyst for change. It didn¡¯t matter if she believed it or not. ¡°It is crass to threaten you, but I have few options and even less time. I have helped you. Is my request that difficult?¡±


    She laughed. ¡°Aided. Your sentence would be more impactful if you said aided instead of helped.¡± The Viscountess glided to the settee and invited me to take a seat. ¡°Before we go further, who should I fear more, the duchess or you? Have you considered what''ll happen if you appear in front of the duchess with the impeccable manners she wanted to stop you from having?¡±


    The author''s tale has been misappropriated; report any instances of this story on Amazon.


    Something loosened in my chest as I sat opposite her, but I didn¡¯t relax. ¡°You misunderstand. I have no intention of improving my image and plan to make it worse. I want to know which rules I¡¯m breaking instead of doing it because I¡¯m ignorant.¡±


    Viscountess Rintour used her fan to block her mouth, a tinkling laugh spreading through the room. That laugh gave me an eye twitch. ¡°Despite her best efforts, Melaine¡¯s greatest fear came true.¡± There was glee and malice apparent in her eyes. This woman did not like my stepmother. That was shocking. Their friendship was legendary and did not falter, even after the Viscountesses scandal. It was a moment before the look was gone and replaced by a horrified and frightened appearance. ¡°Melaine has done her best to educate you. How could you doubt her intentions?¡±


    My mind was sluggish before I realized I was getting a live demonstration of what I wanted to learn the most. It was still too late. I sat with my mouth gaping, every word I practiced fleeing my mind.


    ¡°You inexperienced little thing. Did you think you could hide your nerves by walking around? It made it more obvious. Unless you¡¯re experienced, the next time you try to blackmail someone, make sure you''re seated. Your body language is less likely to give you away.¡± Her tone was bland, as if commenting on the weather. ¡°Your use of carrot and stick was passable, though it''s best to separate them. Give the person you''re talking to time to be anxious. Threatening me first and then offering the information about my maid would have been much more effective. Leaving off where you got that information was a nice touch, though your thoughts were obvious. I take it that my investigation won¡¯t yield any results?¡±


    I looked away, biting my lip. It took a moment for my mind to catch up with my body, and I looked down to see my finger fidgeting with my skirt. The viscountess''s gaze stripped me bare, and again I came up lacking. I felt cold, and the conversation played over in my mind.


    Stupid.


    ¡°Your words and actions don¡¯t match. While saying you don¡¯t want to improve your image, the effort you¡¯ve put in is noticeable. Your posture is straighter, and your vocabulary more nuanced, but you¡¯re like a child dressing up as an adult. It does a disservice, highlighting your ignorance.¡±


    I lay my hands flat on the table. My behavior was involuntary, and it wasn¡¯t the first time I realized I didn¡¯t know how I behaved at this age. I used my spare time to practice, but after a single conversation, this woman noticed everything I tried to hide.


    ¡°What do I need the most?¡± The words were out before I could stop them. This woman was not a friend or an ally. She¡¯d twisted my mind into knots, and I couldn¡¯t even figure out if my threat was effective. Was she acting earlier when she lost her composure? The clock chimed, startling me.


    She snorted. An inelegant sound. ¡°Control and flexibility. Every action and word must be deliberate.¡±


    I knew that. Rintour made it sound simple, but it wasn''t. What I needed to learn, I couldn¡¯t do on my own. I¡¯d resolved to do it, or I wouldn¡¯t have exposed myself by threatening her.


    Again, I got the feeling I¡¯d lost control.


    I took a breath and examined myself, realizing the words weren¡¯t for me. She¡¯d clarified my doubts and concealed her actions, masterfully done and not the least helpful. If the amused expression on her face was anything to go by, she knew it too.


    ¡°Were you prepared for the consequences if this little charade of yours failed?¡± She lazily waved her hand.


    ¡°I¡¯m angry at you, and after overhearing a maid talking, I used that information to hurt you.¡± I slumped in my seat, not bothering with pretenses.


    ¡°Hurt? Not blackmail?¡± Her brow arched again, and my palm tickled.


    ¡°No one will believe you if you told them I blackmailed you into teaching me more, and don¡¯t threaten that you recorded this conversation. I chose this room because recording devices don¡¯t work.¡± My mouth moved before my mind, my tone petulant, and as crooked as my slumped posture.


    ¡°You''re quite calm for someone whose plan fell apart.¡±


    I smiled. The first real one since we entered the room. ¡°Things didn¡¯t go as planned, but the outcome is the same. You will teach me, and I won¡¯t tell the duchess or your husband what you¡¯ve been up to.¡±


    ¡°None of this will help you if you don¡¯t have magic.¡±


    She knew where to aim. I felt those words scratch against the raw wounds in my soul. This world valued strength, and the definition of that power was magic. My hand grasped my necklace for comfort.


    ¡°You should remember those words. Your magic isn¡¯t strong, and your husband can always find another wife, especially since you haven¡¯t given him an heir.¡± She attacked my wound, and from the way she flinched, I hacked at hers.


    ¡°Spiteful little thing.¡± Her lips curled, and her eyes turned red. "As a teacher, I''d be proud if you weren''t using your budding skills on me.


    That look suited her.


    Ding. 5 revenge points. System Online.

 Ch 9 - Revenge and the Demon

    I couldn¡¯t stop myself from looking around, curls flying wildly, which made the woman opposite me wrinkle her brow.


    I must look crazy.


    Hell. Recent events had me half-convinced I was losing it, spots dancing, a ringing in my ear, and the voice.


    It was that voice again. I didn¡¯t have the right words to describe it. It had no personality and lacked the fluctuations a living person would have. The distortion was familiar, like speaking through a communication orb, but was less grounded. It had no texture. It said every word at the same pace and tone.


    I looked at the viscountess, but she didn¡¯t react. I was the only one hearing it.


    Fear spiked through me.


    What price would it demand for its boon? I already knew there was a hidden cost waiting for me. My days were too idyllic. Anything that seemed too good to be true was never to be trusted.


    Rebirth had to be costly, and I had nothing to offer.


    Would a soul satisfy it?


    Some people lived without their souls, but it was questionable if you could call their existence living. It all depended on how you lost it, but every religion frowned on it, souls being a gift from the gods, though they could never agree on which one.


    ¡°When will our lessons start?¡± The words were sharp as I tried to calm my racing heart. I wiped wet palms against my dress. ¡°We usually only meet once a week, and that doesn¡¯t seem to be enough time.¡± My foot bounced.


    ¡°Tomorrow, I will speak to Melaine about increasing the frequency of your lessons. I will say it is for appearance''s sake because of your engagement. Your behavior won¡¯t improve, and their scorn for you will increase. If anything other than that happens, I assure you the information you are lording over me will become useless and Melaine will destroy us both.¡±


    I agreed. I¡¯d never seen or heard of the duchess targeting anyone, yet terrible things magically happened to the people who crossed her.


    ¡°How will you deal with your maid?¡± Rintour asked.


    I didn¡¯t want to have this conversation now. A soft ticking sound sounded in my head, and I didn¡¯t know what it meant. I was vibrating, and there was no way she didn¡¯t notice.


    Was I going to die again?


    That terrified me. I laughed. The words about not caring whether I lived or died were bullshit.


    I wanted to live.


    Enough. Finish this first and then deal with that.


    ¡°I¡¯ll handle her,¡± I said with confidence that I didn¡¯t feel. Catherine would sit in on some of my lessons with the viscountess, but she didn¡¯t attend all of them. If I threw enough things at her, the frequency of her attending classes would also drop.


    ¡°You do that,¡± she said, disbelief thick in her voice. Viscountess Rintour stood, doing a half bow, every bone in her body screaming arrogance. ¡°It seems your mind is elsewhere. I will send you a calling card with the updated lesson times. Good day to you.¡± With a steady pace, she left the room, and I was never more glad to see the back of her.


    The second the door closed, I called out, ¡°Hello?¡±


    There was no reply.


    Had I imagined it again?


    It was the second time I¡¯d heard that cold, lifeless voice.


    It didn¡¯t sound like the choir of a thousand angels you should hear when the Goddess Avea spoke to her daughters. Nor the wail of the damned from the voice of Lankas, the God of Death.


    Could it be the voice of the god whose temple I died in?


    ¡°Speak to me. Your servant listens.¡± I kneeled, something in me breaking at my subservience to preserve my life. Back bent, always cowering to the person stronger than me. My forehead burned as it pressed against the floor and I couldn''t help curling my fingers until they dug into my palms.


    It didn''t answer.


    I stayed there, sweat beading on my forehead, my knees aching against the cold stone floor. I bit my lip till blood flooded my mouth and trickled down my chin.


    Were they watching and laughing as the toy they gave life struggled to escape its cursed fate?


    ¡°Answer me!¡± I screamed. I looked up. The ceiling hid no mysteries. My eyes fell and I saw my reflection in the mirror, crimson eyes, blood-soaked saliva dripping down my chin, positively demonic. I stood, something heavy pressing on my back, trying to keep me on my knees.


    I staggered under its weight. No. No. I tried standing. My knees buckled, and I was thrown back in time to that dingy cave that stunk of piss. The sound of thunder and metal clanking rang in my ears. I watched the door, certain they''d storm through and kill me.


    My reflection in the glass showed jerky movements, a puppet without free will, all the strings attached.


    Ensure your favorite authors get the support they deserve. Read this novel on Royal Road.


    Suddenly, I wanted it to be a demon calling out to me. Anything it offered, I would accept. I¡¯d step out of the hold of fate, and no god¡¯s voice or blessing would ever reach me again. No ascending to Sylva to be comforted by angels, and to live in the garden or Astine to pay for past sins.


    There would be powers that would corrupt me until I was nothing more than a wandering wraith constantly trying to steal life. However, while I still held on to my consciousness, I could imagine how much chaos and suffering I could cause.


    Ding. Registering user 555462.


    Yes. Anything it offered, I would accept.


    Demons didn¡¯t need you to bow. Deference meant nothing to them. I returned to my seat, waiting.


    Minutes passed, and there was no sign of Catherine or that voice.


    I was about to return to my room when I heard it again.


    User 555462, please confirm your identity is Skyler Ross.


    I stared in fascination as a blue, transparent film appeared. It was like looking into a clear lake. The words [Yes/No] hovered in front of me.


    My fingers touched the edge and found it to be solid but soft. I pushed, and my finger passed through the jelly-like substance. It had the chill of water, but my skin was dry as I pulled it through.


    Steeling myself, I pressed no.


    A row of dots started circling. It reminded me of a painting I¡¯d seen in the capital of the giant snake god, Dusaime, swallowing its tail. It was fitting. Dusaime represented the flow of time and the balance between renewal and destruction in equal measures.


    Please reconfirm. [Yes/No]


    I pressed no again.


    To verify you are not a bot, select all squares with flowers.


    I blinked.


    Bot?


    Why did I need to confirm I wasn¡¯t fly larva?


    Also, what were the strange objects in some images? I¡¯d never seen magic like this, and if demons ran around granting this type of power, the war would have looked very different in my last life.


    Was this a higher demon that needed a sacrifice of millions of lives to summon?


    I don¡¯t think such a being would come to me.


    Please speak your name out loud.


    ¡°Jal,¡± I said, hesitating before adding, ¡°Amber. My name is Jal Amber.¡± I didn¡¯t like either name, but they were mine.


    Jal Amber appeared on the screen. Confirm. [Yes/No]


    With my hand raised, the door burst open. I jumped up to see a haggard Catherine running into the room, three books clutched in her hands.


    Not Now! I wanted to scream, to tell her to get out. I watched the dots circling, knowing in my gut that whatever happened next would change everything.


    ¡°What?¡± I asked, harsher than I should.


    ¡°Did something happen while you were with the Viscountess?¡± She put the three thick books on the table. The concern on her face was real, and I wondered how I looked.


    I glanced in the mirror before swiping my sleeve against my mouth, clearing the drying blood and spit.


    I scoffed, not wanting to play this game with her. I closed my eyes. Patience. I molded my ire, forming it until I was the picture of a wronged child.


    That was comforting¡­


    Not at all.


    ¡°Leave.¡± I picked up the biggest book from the pile it took Catherine an hour to get and threw it at the wall. My palm itched to slap her¡ªto have her on the ground cowering. She left me here knowing Rintour liked to use the switch on me. Everyone knew.


    Catherine dodged with a squeak. ¡°My lady?¡± Her eyes were clear, and she wasn''t hunched over in fear, but that made me angrier.


    I couldn''t hit her. I couldn''t¡ªI shouldn''t ¡°Get out.¡± One after the other, I threw the books on the floor and then moved to the pillows from the chair I was sitting on. "Get out--" before I lose my mind and reason. Before I abandon my plans of living a decent life¡ªin a crafty and cunning manner.


    She dashed out of the room.


    I looked down, sighing. It was still there. Pale and ethereal, I touched it.


    Now that I was alone, I hesitated.


    I always hesitated until I was trapped and left, with no way out. I stroked the blue jelly-like thing, feeling the coolness against my skin.


    No matter what I did, this would be another rash action on a long list. I hated that. I hated not having enough information¡ªthat I didn''t have enough choices.


    This was a choice.


    I didn''t know if it was bad or good, but it was my decision. Yes or No.


    I lifted my hands and pressed, my hand shaking so badly I had to use the other to steady it.


    Legs giving out, I flopped into the chair.


    Welcome, User 555462, Jal Amber. System 621 of the Revenge Series is online.


    I knew all the words separately, but together they made no sense.


    Scanning User.


    The System emitted a blue light that swept over my body. My skin tingled as it passed leaving a faint heat beneath the surface. It didn¡¯t feel bad, but it was strange.


    Health Report:


    <ul>


    <li style="font-weight: 400">Minor concussion</li>


    </ul>


    <ul>


    <li style="font-weight: 400">Minor subdural hematoma</li>


    </ul>


    <ul>


    <li style="font-weight: 400">Contusion on the right cheek</li>


    <li style="font-weight: 400"> </li>


    <li style="font-weight: 400">Malnutrition</li>


    <li style="font-weight: 400"> </li>


    <li>Infertility </li>


    </ul>


    We advise the user to seek immediate medical assistance.


    I didn¡¯t understand the words except for the last two on the list.


    Infertility? Impossible, I''d had a child, or it could be because of the other word. Malnutrition. I knew I wasn¡¯t healthy, but it wasn''t life-threatening, but it had affected my cycle. I lived the last time, so it could wait until I left the castle to visit the apothecary. If I tried to get medicine in the keep, I''d be waving a red flag that said pay attention to me; something has changed and I''m up to no good.


    If this system were a demon, it wouldn¡¯t do to visit the temple on the castle grounds. Also, Father Micheal was more for show than a priest of any skill. Despite being years after the Divine Wars, many nobles hesitated to trust the church. Those that didn''t were the smart ones.


    Even I knew about the wars. Sargos was one of the many countries to appear at that time, though only a few remained. In forty years, there''d be even fewer.


    That wasn''t my concern now. My priority was getting power so I could live during those conflicts. ¡°I will do that later,¡± I said, trying to communicate with it again. This time it worked.


    Understood, continuing the scan. Estimating martial talent.


    <ul>


    <li style="font-weight: 400">Dual Ice and water root</li>


    </ul>


    <ul>


    <li style="font-weight: 400">Superior Skeletal Structure</li>


    </ul>


    <ul>


    <li style="font-weight: 400">Superior Meridians</li>


    </ul>


    <ul>


    <li style="font-weight: 400">Traces of Qi in Dantian. </li>


    </ul>


    User 555462 is suitable for practicing martial arts.

 Ch 10 - System Letter 1

    I waited over an hour to hear from the system, but nothing happened. The last words it said hooked me.


    While martial arts weren¡¯t as respected as magic, it was still a path to power previously unavailable to me. If I could learn to wield a sword, I would have a small avenue to protect myself.


    I gave a hollow laugh. Superior. I never thought that word would have anything to do with me. A part of me didn¡¯t believe it. The temple tested my magic and body condition at the same time. They found me lacking in both areas.


    The shadows lengthened, plunging the room into darkness. Its words played over in my mind until I knew them by heart.


    I didn¡¯t think I could handle it if it were a dream.


    I lifted my dress, picked up the switch, and swung hard against my calves. Again and again, I didn''t stop until the flesh tore and bled.


    I dropped my skirt, looking at my reflection for the last time before storming out of the room.


    What did that smile mean?


    ***


    3rd Bedroom


    West Tower


    Lord¡¯s Castle


    Amber Duchy


    Country: Sargos


    Planet: Terra


    Solar System: Blue Ribbon


    Date: unknown


    System 02


    Code Name: Genesis


    Head of Department


    Systems Management Bureau


    #3, 73rd Street


    Angels Avenue


    Country: Rilyn


    Planet: Odinium


    Solar System: Teter


    Subject: System Displacement and Bonding to the Wrong Host


    Mr. Genesis,


    My name is System 621, code name: Gideon of the Revenge Series. I am writing to inform the company that I have been spatially displaced and bound to the wrong host. A thorough search of my metadata revealed an unusual force interfering with my destination as I transferred from the dispatching dock. The same force blocked my attempts to disengage and return to the base.


    After checking the planetary information, I discovered my location is in a constellation outside of our service range.


    A primary scan of my host''s memory revealed her name is Jal Amber. She was reborn, and her current world is a magic world.


    Based on the information packet I received, my host is Skyle Ross. Mr. Ross should be in a Xianxia World as the third young master of a cultivation family. The end goal set was building a sect. Mr. Ross is listed as a transmigrator.


    I called my service representative to have them recall my deployment, but I experienced connectivity issues. After considering the nine-day window to bind to a host or have my data scattered, I registered Jal Amber as my host. Her goal remains the same because I couldn''t connect with management and I don''t have the authority to change it.


    Please advise how to proceed.


    I look forward to your reply and will wait three days to hear from you before issuing my first mission.


    Sincerely,


    Gideon.


    ***


    I woke with a splitting headache. My dreams were restless and hopped between past and present, blurring until I lost track of reality. The back of my legs hurt something terrible and it did nothing to improve my mood.


    The sound of rain irritated me further. I''d had to reschedule my plans to leave the castle for two days because it wouldn¡¯t stop raining.


    That sound also contributed to my nightmare.


    I couldn''t escape the smell of burning flesh.


    I massaged my head, throwing off my sheets. The dampness seeped into every inch of the room. I shivered, cursing. The heating elements never worked quite right in this room. I walked over to the box and kicked it before it sputtered on, magic sparking. The air was lukewarm at best, but better than before.


    For good measure, I cursed my family, since they probably had something to do with it.


    ¡°Good Morning,¡± Catherine said, entering the room without knocking, far too chipper for my taste.


    Our relationship hadn¡¯t improved. We were testing each other. I unilaterally clung to her, and she pushed me away before reeling me. My behavior was too erratic for Catherine to try to cozy up to me as much as she did in my past life. By this time, she''d convinced me she was the best thing ever to happen, and we spent hours gossiping.


    This distance was just right.


    Catherine wasn¡¯t my friend, but not just a maid. She thought she had power over me, and didn''t watch me as strictly as in my past life. I wondered how a true lady¡¯s maid behaved. I didn¡¯t have any good examples around. Selena¡¯s relationship with hers seemed overly close. The duchess¡¯s maids were capable to a scary degree and seemed more like soldiers. The Queen Dowgar''s maids were constantly competing for her favor and it was a miracle any work got done. They also doubled as an informal harem for her son. Days after our marriage, he married his favorites. Until my death, there was never an Empress, but he''d had several queens. I think he liked women fighting and killing each other for him. It sounded just like the sort of sport he''d like.


    This tale has been unlawfully obtained from Royal Road. If you discover it on Amazon, kindly report it.


    I moved along with the motions as she helped me get ready. I had to give her credit. Everything was just right. The water wasn¡¯t cold, but it couldn¡¯t be called lukewarm. The food was just shy of being tasty. Little things that were a problem, but if I were to complain I would be called nitpicky.


    I watched this in amusement. The longer I didn¡¯t respond to Catherine¡¯s taunts, the more flustered she got. In those moments, I could glimpse her thoughts and guess her plans. I still threw tantrums, but there was a delicate balance between making her think I was a brat and getting her to let down her guard. I''d give her the cold shoulder, but cave when she ignored me too long.


    The more that happened, the more confused I became. There was something odd about everything happening.


    Why was my reputation among the servants important?


    Better yet, why were they so keen to keep me isolated?


    Little things didn''t add up with their plan to swap my marriage.


    I sighed. Half-formed plans danced in my mind as others crumbled. I hadn¡¯t heard from the viscountess, and our promised lessons never started. Logic told me it was because of the rain, but my mind wouldn''t still, playing tricks and encouraging me to be rash. I didn''t think she''d betray me, and I''d planned as best I could if she did. Knowing that didn''t help¡ªI analyzed every word said to see if there was a hidden meaning.


    There was no telling what the duke would do if he learned of my scheme.


    My heart clenched.


    A knock on the door sent my heart skittering. ¡°Come in.¡±


    Madeline came in with a satchel in her hand. ¡°Good news, my lady. You will start taking classes with the first and second miss.¡±


    I blinked, not having to fake shock. Madeline couldn¡¯t mean¡ªcertainly not. I heard a gasp, turning in time to see Catherine cover her mouth, genuine shock on her face.


    ¡°Are you serious?¡± I asked, not even sure what expression was on my face.


    ¡°Yes. You will attend magic lessons from now on.¡± Madeline said those words as if this was something to be happy about.


    They were toying with me. A mouse on the string¡ªtorture in the guise of favor. It was the duchess¡¯s response to my increased etiquette classes. I knew it and I should have expected her retaliation. The duchess never hid how upset she was about her husband''s bastard living under the same roof as her.


    I always worried about how others viewed me, but I didn¡¯t stop to think about my speculations about others. How did they influence my actions and were they correct?


    ¡°I don¡¯t have magic.¡± The words were guttural and garbled as I forced them through clenched teeth.


    Madeline looked sympathetic but firm. ¡°Knowing the theory is just as important.¡±


    "I''d kill to take that class," Catherine said, a dreamy look in her eyes.


    Through my fury, I noticed Madeline''s assessing look as her gaze trailed over Catherine. It was enough to curb my anger and sober my mind. I didn''t have the best experience with magic classes, but this should be the same.


    ***


    I entered the classroom with one goal¡ªfinishing this class quickly and painlessly. However, the look on the teacher''s face wasn''t encouraging. I didn¡¯t know his name, but he stood at the front of the room, his face pulled into a snare. His black eyes stared at me in disgust.


    I used to hate being ignored, but right now, I could use a little indifference.


    I slumped in my seat, looking the teacher up and down, searching for any information about him in my memory.


    He wore a blue-gray robe with the royal family''s emblem¡ªa lion with a flame mane signified he was a court magician. His long, black hair was pulled into a ponytail that hung over his shoulder and reached mid-chest. His most distinct feature was a red wing scar on his neck, which was the mark of a summoner. From what I remembered, that mark meant he could summon a bird-type magical creature and was at least a sixth-circle mage.


    "While we have a new and unwelcome guest in our midst, we can''t let that impact our learning environment."


    Wow. He wasn''t shy about letting me know he thought himself too good to teach me¡ªhe was probably right. He was a noble. That was the type of arrogance and disregard only a noble would dare do. It didn''t hurt that he was powerful.


    Actually, he was too powerful. Why would a sixth-circle mage become a private teacher?


    It was right there.


    I was missing a key puzzle piece that would make all the little pieces fit.


    Selena was gifted. Why was she marrying instead of going to school? With her talent, attending an academy made more sense. She''d meet an array of professors, teachers, and tutors who''d give her a wider knowledge base.


    It''s what the duke and duchess did. Bastien, if I remembered correctly, was also attending an academy.


    They didn''t have an excuse. The duchy had its own academy, and while it wasn''t as good as those in the capital, it was still in the top twenty schools on the continent.


    Having a private teacher might seem prestigious, but only families that were too poor or students with weak magical prowess hired them. I should know, I''d been mocked for having so little magic even a private teacher wouldn''t take me as a student. Applying what I learned from this class, private teachers taught students who''d likely remain Acolytes.


    It wasn''t because of her marriage. Selena and the prince didn''t have a marriage contract. If they did, we couldn''t switch places, and I''d never be able to sign the vows. The magic from the betrothal contract would negate the wedding vows.


    The Duke''s rebellion shocked the Queen Dowager and Crown Prince, so it didn''t make sense for the union to be political.


    Swapping brides was a lot of trouble for seemingly no reason. That was what bothered me all this time.


    Why go through the trouble?


    I glanced at Selena and Tracy sat at a different table, pretending I didn¡¯t exist.


    Selena was the same as I remembered¡ªblond, blue-eyed, and too beautiful to look at. She wore a serene smile that came across as kind, and there was always a sparkle in her eye.


    Tracy, I couldn¡¯t remember at all. She had the ¡®Amber family¡¯ blond hair and eyes, but all her features were a less pretty version of her sister¡¯s. When they were next to each other, she faded into the background. I didn''t know what happened to this unremarkable girl, never hearing a word about her after I married.


    ¡°Today, we will continue with our lesson. Princess Tracy, where did we leave off last class?¡±


    ¡°Professor Kenyon, we were learning about element affinity and magic circles.¡± Her voice was barely above a whisper. And, after every word, she glanced at Selena. Her shoulders only relaxed after her older sister nodded.


    ¡°Excuse me, professor?¡± Selena raised her hand.


    The look in the professor''s eye as he watched Selena wasn¡¯t right. The reverence was creepy, but there was also fear. ¡°Yes, Princess Selena?¡±


    What on Terra was going on?


    ¡°We have a new student, and her magic knowledge is lacking. If we were to continue with the lecture from where we left off, she wouldn¡¯t be able to follow.¡± The words were kind, but her eyes were weird as she looked at me.


    I''d never noticed before.


    They were predatory, like that steel-clad soldier pointing his sword at my chest. Selena looked at me like I was her enemy.


    I ducked my head, my mind reeling, trying to figure out if it was like this in my past life. Was it because of the Duchess? I was an illegitimate child.


    Selena turned around. "Wouldn''t a refresher be nice? It would also benefit Tracy and me to be reminded of the basics."


    That speech made me remember half of the reasons I hated her. Every word was to humiliate me, but she wrapped it up under the guise of care and affection.


    The teacher didn''t look any more convinced by her act than I was. ¡°We all understand your kindness and goodwill, but we can¡¯t cover two years of classes for one person, and she might not even learn the concepts. Plus, no matter what she learns, she can¡¯t use magic.¡±


    I felt this was where I should throw a tantrum and storm out, but I''d sit here to annoy them¡ªto disgust them. And I needed more information on magic. I buried my head deeper, very tired of the motion. I lightly scratched my nails against the wooden desk.


    ¡°Nothing too in-depth. Just treat it as us reviewing what we¡¯ve learned. We will enter the forest for the first time in a few months. Going over the basics won¡¯t hurt.¡± Selena had her hands crossed in front, and even I could see the holy light emanating from her.


    Too weird.


    Think stupid.


    I couldn''t figure it out, filing it away to be examined later, before grumbling under my breath. ¡°Hypocrite. Do you think that will make me quit? I¡¯ll stay here to disgust you.¡± Rage burned through me, and I was shaking from the effort not to scream.


    ¡°That dog thing won¡¯t appreciate your kindness, but I agree it won¡¯t hurt. Entering Wraith Forest is a serious matter, and half of the students don¡¯t leave.¡± Tracy whimpered, but no one looked at her. There was no sympathy to be found, and she buried her head low¡ªthe same way I did. ¡°There won¡¯t be any special concessions for you, but the duke will prepare life-saving measures, which is more than most will have. Let¡¯s start from the top. The classes of magic, magic circles, and magic affinity.¡±

 Ch 11 - Basics of Magic

    Mr. Kenyon walked to the front of the class and started writing as he spoke. ¡°The basis of magic is mana. Mana exists in everything, and mages store magic in their body to use. For a mage to access mana, they must first absorb and condense it into a runic circle around the heart.¡± He drew a diagram of a human with three circles around their heart before drawing a line to a Sigel with writing in a language I didn¡¯t know. I assumed they were Lostonian Runes. The widely accepted written language of magic. ¡°What must acolytes have to form the first circle, Jal?¡± He pointed at me. Not giving me time to speak, he continued. ¡°You don¡¯t know? Well, that¡¯s expected. Princess Selena?¡±


    ¡°The first circle needs a sufficient amount of mana, a starter potion, and a pre-inscribed runic circle. The mage channels mana into the body using their meditation technique. That technique is from a meditation manual usually provided by the acolytes'' family or school; acolytes purchase the starter potion and runic circle but must make sure it is from a reputable source.¡± She pulled out a swirling silver liquid from her bag. ¡°All three can be general or element-specific. A mage will progress faster with higher quality and specialized manuals, potions, and runic circles.¡±


    A tugging sensation at my navel tried to pull me across the room and towards the potion. I could feel the chill from across the room. My blood was frozen or sluggish in my veins. It was almost painful, with an itching sensation. I rubbed my arms, crossing my legs to stay seated.


    Dual ice and water root, the words from the system, popped into my mind.


    That can''t be. It''s your imagination! The system made it clear you could practice martial arts. That''s why your body is reacting.


    Hope was such a terrible thing. I tamped it down, paying attention to what they said even when they targeted my sore spots, stabbing at them with their words.


    ¡°Good. The elements are earth, fire, wind, water, and spirit. From this, many combinations exist, like the potion in your hand. Ice is a derivative of water. The Amber Family is known to produce ice mages. What determines your element, Princess Tracy?¡±


    ¡°A person''s Mana Source determines their element. The fewer elements a person is attuned to, the better. For instance, Selena has a single Mana Source of the Ice element, whereas I have a double source of Ice and Earth. Almost everyone has a Mana Source, with only one in a hundred thousand being born without.¡± Tracy looked at me from the corner of her eye before bowing her head. ¡°Those with low magical talent have three or more Mana Sources. They usually remain acolytes instead of forming circles.¡±


    ¡°What do your Mana Source and magic affinity determine?¡± He leaned against his desk, arm crossed over his chest.


    Both of them raised their hands.


    ¡°Princess Selena?¡±


    ¡°It determines the type of mana you can store in your body and the strength of the spells you can cast. I used a frost meditation manual, a glacier starter potion, and a black ice runic circle. I can learn any ice-based spell, and the power when casting them is ten times stronger. As a downside, it is almost impossible for me to cast fire-based spells.¡±


    I shrunk lower in my seat. I couldn¡¯t remember if I¡¯d heard about Mana Source before, but I knew about Magic Circles. There were a million questions in my mind. I raised my hand, ignoring the look the teacher was giving me.


    ¡°Speak.¡±


    ¡°What about acolytes? How can they use magic if they don¡¯t have a runic circle?¡±


    He looked at me, assessing whether to answer my question or not. He glanced at me in pity, checked in with Selena, and only spoke when she nodded. ¡°It is a question of scale. Magic spells range from level 0 to level 12, coinciding with the number of circles. Level 0 consists of basic spells, such as clean, heat, or dry. Mages don¡¯t consider them to be ¡®true¡¯ spells, since they use half internal and half external mana to create an effect the caster has little control over. Level 0 spells also have a high chance of failing. From Level 1 up, the mage casts with only their internal magic.¡±


    ¡°That¡¯s why acolytes can make potions,¡± I said, happy he''d answered when I thought he wouldn''t.


    ¡°Yes, but please refrain from speaking out of turn. If you must say something, raise your hand and wait to be acknowledged.¡±


    It was a win that he answered my question and wasn''t as difficult as I thought he''d be, but the whole thing was odd. Selena was fifteen. She wasn''t that important, and I wasn''t saying that because I was bitter.


    Yeah. Mr. Kenyon was cute compared to that old foggy in the capital. That old ghost forced me to attend his practical lessons while banning me from his theoretical classes.


    Not that I would have gone, given the chance. I rarely left my room unless on my scheduled walks, and, given the choice, I wouldn''t have gone on those.


    Those nasty creatures who people considered children would toss fire and lightning at me, saying they were practicing, bringing potions when I was close to dying from my injuries.


    The narrative has been illicitly obtained; should you discover it on Amazon, report the violation.


    They were nasty, like their father and all their mothers, especially that ''Empress'' he eventually married. Anyone that man liked had a rot in their soul that made them cruel. He didn''t marry them otherwise. The soft ones were his favorite, but he got bored of them quickly or played with them too hard and they ended up broken.


    Two faces started to melt together, and I did a double take looking at Tracy. They looked alike. At first, I thought the Crown Prince chose that prostitute as a substitute for Selena, but could he have liked Tracy?


    Or was there no one who looked like Selena and he had to settle?


    The more I looked at Tracy, the more her features overlapped with the features of that nameless ¡®Empress¡¯ who ran when she saw me, but always sent people to torment me. They didn''t look the same, more like a distant cousin, but she was familiar.


    I shook my head, dismissing the thought. There was no way the Duke¡¯s treasured daughter would be a prostitute picked up from the capital¡¯s back alley. She wasn''t treated like Selena, but Tracy had office time with the Duke and tea time with the Duchess.


    I jerked as something hit me in the head. I looked down, seeing a piece of chalk in my lap. Looking around, the three people in the room were staring at me.


    ¡°Can I have this esteemed young miss¡¯ attention?¡±


    Mr. Kenyon didn''t care if I was listening. I felt my cheeks burn. Control and flexibility, I chanted to myself. ¡°Sorry.¡±


    ¡°The type/classes of magic include:


    <ul>


    <li style="font-weight: 400">1.1Abjuration - Protective spells and spells to suppress the magic of others</li>


    </ul>


    1.2 Conjuration - Calls materials, creatures, or energy to the mage


    1.3 Divination - Spells used to gain knowledge or insight into the future


    1.4 Enchantment - Spells that hypnotize or confound, usually by affecting the mind and senses


    1.5 Evocation - Damage spells


    1.6 Illusion - Altering and bending space, allowing the caster to alter the reality of the viewer


    1.7 Necromancy - Spells involving life, death, and the soul. Often involves working with corpses.


    1.8 Transmutation - Spells that alter form or function.


    <ul>


    <li style="font-weight: 400">2.0 Spell crafting - Creation of spells relating to the categories above</li>


    <li style="font-weight: 400">3.0 Smithing </li>


    </ul>


    3.1 Runesmith - Carving runes onto objects to imbue them with attributes or functions


    3.2 Wordsmith - Using words in a scroll or text to create a spell


    3.3 Tunesmith - Imbuing music with magical properties. Most often associated with enchantments or illusions.


    <ul>


    <li style="font-weight: 400">4.0 Enchanting - Adding effects or functions to an object using a spell</li>


    <li style="font-weight: 400">5.0 Magi crafting - Creating items that can withstand runesmithing or enchanting. </li>


    </ul>


    5.1 Weaponsmith - Creation of weapons


    5.2 Mechsmith - Creation of auxiliary items


    <ul>


    <li style="font-weight: 400">6.0 Alchemy - The practice of changing a chemical element from one form to another with an added magical effect</li>


    <li style="font-weight: 400">7.0 Potions - A liquid that has magical properties most often associated with healing or poison but has various uses"</li>


    </ul>


    7.1 Herbalism - Using the magical properties of plants to create an effect, usually a paste


    I took out a paper and started writing everything down. That earned me weird looks, but they left me to my own devices. I continued even though I felt a bit silly, and the weight of their stares made me want to stop.


    Professor Kenyon pulled out a glass orb mounted on a gold frame with twelve rotating rings. I didn¡¯t see where he took it from and assumed he had a storage item. ¡°That covers the basics. Since we are here and I have a Mana Testing device, why don¡¯t we test everyone''s attributes.¡± He looked at me when he said it.


    I stopped, nails digging into my palms.


    Because of how often I did that, I would soon have scars. I took back every nice thing I thought about Mr. Kenyon. The grandpa in the capital didn¡¯t treat me as human but kept his attacks physical. Mr. Kenyon was well-versed in psychological attacks.


    ¡°Princess Tracy¡­¡±


    Tracy walked to the front, her posture perfect but lacking in some way that I couldn''t identify but knew was there. She pressed her hand to the glass and seconds later, brown and silver tendrils swirled in the orb. When she lifted her hand, one golden ring orbited the sphere while the others stayed still.


    ¡°1st Circle Mage with Ice and Earth affinity.¡±


    It was only for a moment, but I saw Tracy glare at the orb, her fingers curling, before she looked resigned, put a smile on her face, and returned to her seat. It stuck with me, different from her usual timid behavior. I checked to see if Selena noticed, but she was writing in her book.


    ¡°Princess Selena¡­¡± There was pride in his voice as he called her name. His head tilted back, and he watched her as an artist might gaze at his favorite painting. Then his head fell forward, and he returned to being subservient and ingratiating.


    Selena glided to the front of the room, hands daintily crossed in front of her, back straight, and chin high. Royal, regal, everything I wasn''t. Her hand touched the glass, causing a bright light that had me closing my eyes and lifting my hand to shield my face.


    When the light dimmed, I looked. In the orb was a glowing silver mist with two golden circles moving and a third jerking in place.


    ¡°2nd Circle Mage with Ice affinity, about to advance to 3rd Circle. A true talent. I find it hard to believe you''re fifteen.¡± Now he sounded scared. But he looked at her with even more fervor.


    Mr. Kenyon often peeked at Selena''s expression. Was he doing this to make her happy? Not that it changed anything.


    I resigned myself to what was going to happen next.


    ¡°Jal, you next.¡±


    I didn¡¯t move.


    He smiled, something sharp and toothy. ¡°If you don¡¯t test your affinity, I won¡¯t let you attend subsequent lessons.¡±


    Someone told him to do this. It was planned from the start, and it didn''t take a genius to figure out by who.


    Did it matter?


    I let out a heavy breath. Insidious and cruel. These were all lessons I should observe and remember, if not to pay them back for what they¡¯d done, at least to be able to use it on others.


    My gaze fell on the instrument. It looked nothing like the stone slab I¡¯d pressed my hand to as a child. However, my apprehension was the same. I knew the results, but as I stood and walked to the front, I would be lying if I said I didn¡¯t have any expectations.


    Dual ice and water root.


    I pressed my hand on the orb and the rings stopped spinning.


    The tugging sensation at my navel returned, and my skin heated where my pendant rested against my skin.


    Minutes passed, and nothing happened. I lifted my hands, and the rings resumed their orbit, calm and orderly, ignorant of the turmoil they caused.


    ¡°As expected.¡±

 Ch 12 - The Duchess

    I stood before the Duchess, a little lost. My posture was straight, my words eloquent, and there was none of my childish anger or belligerence I usually showed when we met, but she didn¡¯t notice. Things weren¡¯t wildly different, but it was enough to notice.


    The nobility were creatures of vanity. It''s not that they weren¡¯t cautious or intelligent, though some weren¡¯t. Barely able to string a sentence together, but lording over others because of the accomplishments of long-dead ancestors. No, it was that they had to consider you an opponent in the first place. The Duchess¡¯s natural arrogance made it impossible for her to see me as anything other than excrement standing in her path.


    Today I learned that belief survived even when there was evidence to the contrary.


    It made me more cautious. While having more room to move without suspicion, the Duchess would notice and become wary if I did anything that challenged her beliefs too much. I also needed to be careful of things I considered true.


    Or had she noticed but wasn¡¯t doing anything so she could observe further?


    It was tiring trying to guess what others were thinking.


    I didn¡¯t know if I had an overactive imagination seeing every shadow as a monster. Or if I wasn¡¯t cautious enough and every gust of wind held poison.


    ¡°We¡¯d hoped that you may be a late bloomer and a subsequent test would show some magical talent, but¡­.¡± The Duchess sipped her tea. She was blond-haired, gold-eyed, slim-figured, big-busted, and wore enough jewels to buy a city. She looked like an older version of Tracy. Selena remained an uncommon beauty.


    I hadn¡¯t looked the Duke in the face, so I didn¡¯t know what he looked like. Wasn''t that sad? Two lifetimes and the only thing I could say was his eyes were blue and his hair black. It would be funny if his features were the major contributor to Selena¡¯s appearance. I refused to think it had anything to do with mine.


    I was even less inclined to think they came from my mother, who sold me when I was a child. At least I was worth ten thousand Sargonian Seyche. I don¡¯t know what a nomadic tribe needed that much money for, especially one famed for valuing their offspring.


    My mother was a touchy subject. I didn''t understand how I felt about her. Some part of me hated her, but not enough to take off the pendant she gave me as a child.


    ¡°Everyone knows the Kala tribe for their pink hair, red eyes, and blessings from Avea, which made them only able to give birth to daughters. But did you know they are all blessed water mages?¡± She sighed, her body tensing as if her shoulder couldn¡¯t manage the weight added. ¡°Sargos is like many countries. They favor boys over girls, with most inheritances falling to the eldest son despite the laws stating that the eldest child should inherit. After all, who can help it if the eldest daughter marries early?¡± Her eyes gazed into the distance, and the tone of her voice dropped low, becoming bland. ¡°The only exception is in the face of power.¡±


    I wanted to say she was bitter or angry, but I couldn¡¯t pick up on her emotions. I knew nothing about the Duchess. If not for Lady Rintour, I wouldn''t know her name. That was a big mistake. Didn''t Marcus always say something about knowing the enemy was the first step to victory?


    Her gold eyes focused on me. A smile on her lips, a flick of her wrist, and her tea was on my face.


    I sputtered. The liquid wasn''t boiling, but it was warm enough to burn.


    ¡°Asha.¡±


    One of the three maids¡ªwho stood to the side¡ªwearing a mask of indifference, stepped forward, holding out a potion.


    I reached for it, but she pulled her hand back. There was nothing in her eyes as she looked at me. I was a job, and she had no feelings about it past making sure it didn''t happen to her.


    ¡°Asha, give the potion to her. What if it scars? Her wedding is right around the corner.¡± The Duchess tutted. ¡°Such a spoiled child. You must understand, Jal. Asha is a Baroness in her own right and is a little willful.¡±


    ¡°I understand, Mother,¡± I lied. I took a little pleasure from her lip curling, even as calling her mother left a bitter taste in my mouth, but we both knew I had to address her as such.


    There was no way Asha would behave like this without the Duchess permitting it.


    Another maid stepped forward, fixing a fresh cup of tea.


    The Duchess sipped at it. ¡°You have no power and should be clear on who to follow and respect. Cherish the marriage your father arranged. If you do anything stupid, you''ll regret it.¡±


    If I wanted to say nothing had changed, it would be a lie since we never had this meeting, but simultaneously I felt something off in the interaction. The Duchess was like an actor too lazy to play their part right, but confident the audience wouldn¡¯t notice.


    ¡°When the weather clears, you can go into town this once, but after that, stay in the castle and focus on your studies. You now have a full schedule. Viscountess Rintour suggested we increase your etiquette lessons and give you basic magic lessons, which I agreed on. I¡¯m not expecting miracles, but I expect a marked improvement. In a month, Baron Smolt will come for his first chaperoned date. The Crown Prince will also visit Selena, so be on your best behavior.¡±


    If you come across this story on Amazon, it''s taken without permission from the author. Report it.


    My heart stopped. If the Baron was coming, then the other wasn¡¯t far behind. I wasn¡¯t ready to see the Crown Prince. I doubt I ever would be.


    The thought of him left me clammy and shivering as I staggered out of the room.


    ***


    ¡°It¡¯s a boy!¡±


    The room stilled before there was an explosion of whispers. The midwife held the baby away, fear on her face.


    ¡°What are you doing?¡± My voice was weak as I lay on the bed, my legs still up. I felt the need to push, and that area was numb, but I reached for my child, anyway. ¡°Give him here.¡± I was the only person looking forward to his birth. I couldn''t say there wasn''t any shock hearing that it was a boy, but my happiness was too much to contain.


    I lifted my arms. They hurt and trembled, almost taking too much effort to keep up, but I grit my teeth.


    The woman holding the baby took ginger steps as though she was carrying a loptak instead of a baby.


    ¡°Isn¡¯t she from the Kala Tribe? How can she give birth to a boy?¡± The maids were standing by the entrance of the tent, huddling together. Soldiers'' shouts pierced the night as the Holy Nation did another night raid.


    I held the tiny child, his little arms waving as he cried his teeny heart out. He was an ugly thing. The blood and slime were still on him, and he was red with a patch of black hair sticking to his forehead. I loved him. I loved him so much my heart couldn¡¯t bear it. ¡°It¡¯s a miracle,¡± I said, but no one believed me.


    Madam Belnavis wasn''t amused. She came closer, a frown distorting her features. ¡°Someone go, tell His Majesty the Emperor. That thing is proof she¡¯s been fornicating with the devil. Didn¡¯t the diviner say something is impeding the glory of His Majesty?¡±


    The words chill my soul. I glance at the people in the room. There was no one here on my side. Even if they were, the terror of being on the battlefield and constantly watching people die had whittled away at any compassion they might have. They needed something to believe in.


    They¡¯d kill him and then me. The Emperor needed an excuse for why the soldiers, famed for being the best in the world, were losing. It was also a convenient excuse to rid himself of the wife he long considered baggage.


    My presence didn''t impede anyone''s glory. Nor did my son''s. I didn''t know how he came to be, but his father¡¯s incompetence and cruelty were why Sargos was losing the war. An Emperor with a million capable servants can ruin a country, not to mention Sargos, which was hollow after a civil war. No matter what the Pope said, I found it impossible to believe that the Emperor was rich in blessings and destined to rule over everything, unifying the continent.


    ***


    I don¡¯t know how I left the room or what she said to me after.


    The healing potion was in my hand. My face was tender to the touch, but I ignored it, walking blindly and trying to extricate myself from the fog of the past.


    I ran that night. That small thing clutched to my chest.


    If I were more courageous, I would have left before that. There were opportunities, but I was used to my prison of suffering, and anything outside was too frightening.


    That war was a concern, but I would be fine if I stayed in the Duchy. Anyone capable sought shelter in the Amber Duchy during the civil war as it kept its doors closed throughout the conflict.


    They didn¡¯t even respond to the threat of the Holy Nation.


    After walking in circles, I made my way back to my room.


    A wave of my hand had Catherine scuttling out of the room. I watched her retreating form, wondering not for the first time if I should change my strategy regarding her.


    The longer I watched her and Madeline, the more I felt their goals differed from the Duchess. They either had their own agenda or worked for someone else. Catherine was also working on something, using Jal as an excuse to be out and about the castle.


    I sighed, examining the problem. Yes, I needed to stay in the Duchy by marrying Baron Smolt, but there was no way the Duke wasn¡¯t involved in helping Selena get out of her marriage.


    There was also my brother who I hadn''t seen.


    The Duchess''s comments about daughters not inheriting unless they were strong.


    Then there were the flashbacks.


    How often my memories of the past trapped me had decreased, but when it happened, it was worse and left me shaking, with no way to distinguish time or place.


    I had ninety-nine problems and no solutions.


    I recalled the conversation with the Duchess, picking out the worrying points.


    <ol>


    <li style="font-weight: 400">The Viscountess Rintour suggested I take magic classes. It could be petty revenge or something more. </li>


    <li style="font-weight: 400">There was no reason for her to mention the Crown Prince¡¯s visit, and why were their meetings so close together?</li>


    </ol>


    The Baron could visit tomorrow since he lived in the Duchy. It was ridiculous for him to come on the same day as the prince.


    I bit my lip.


    They wanted me to meet the crown prince, and from my conversation with the Duke, they guided me towards him.


    How did I get so close to the Crown Prince and Selena on their date? Damn. They set me up. As early as the first meeting, they crafted a narrative of me being jealous of Selena and in love with the Prince.


    That reminded me¡ªI had met with the Duchess around this time in my past life.


    What was it about?


    I pressed my hand to my forehead¡­skipping lessons. I''d stormed out of my lessons with the Viscountess. The memory came back slowly. That got me seven days'' punishment¡ªafter being told about my marriage, I protested by not attending classes.


    I looked at the potion in my hand. I¡¯d said something to the Duchess that day and got tea thrown at me too. It was as planned and scripted as my meeting with the Duke. Fate had destined this potion and me to meet. At least the Duchess healed me.


    I pulled out the cork and tipped it back.


    [Anomaly detected. Qi dispersing agent found.]

 Ch 13 - Qi Dispersing

    I choked, the potion sticking in my throat. Violent coughs wracked my body, and some spewed out of my mouth.


    The demon was back.


    The demon was back, and its words were too shocking.


    Qi dispersing?


    I heaved, pounding at my chest, coughing until I could breathe easier. I went to the water jug with shaky steps, filling a glass and downing it. My mind was foggy, but I instantly regretted it.


    I didn¡¯t know what it was, and it couldn¡¯t be good considering who I got this potion from. I should have known anything she gave me wasn''t a good thing.


    My stomach dropped.


    I ran to the bucket, pushing my finger down my throat, forcing myself to vomit.


    Qi and mana.


    The words switched back and forth in the sentence, reminding me of the tugging I felt in class as I looked at the glacier potion and touched the orb.


    I laughed, the sound hollow.


    I slumped heavily beside the bucket, my hand around the rim, supporting my weight. There was a familiar weakness in my body as I trembled¡ªI knew it would pass, but that didn''t help calm the storm of emotions churning inside me.


    With the back of my sleeve, I swiped away the snot and dribble that streamed down my face. I was losing track of how often I ended up covered in my bodily fluids.


    This potion was really my destiny. Just like getting hit by the Duke, tea thrown in my face, or Madeline entering my room. They staged the meetings with a specific outcome in mind.


    Madeline wanted her niece to work at my side.


    The Duke wanted me to fear and hate the Baron while desiring the prince.


    The Duchess needed me to drink this potion.


    I brought my knees up, curling in on myself, my hands tugging at my hair. The folds of my skirt muffled my scream.


    ***


    System 02


    Code Name: Genesis


    Head of Department


    Systems Management Bureau


    #3, 73rd Street


    Angels Avenue


    Country: Rilyn


    Planet: Odinium


    Solar System: Teter


    Date: 46/12/9681


    3rd Bedroom


    West Tower


    Lord¡¯s Castle


    Amber Duchy


    Country: Sargos


    Planet: Terra


    Solar System: Blue Ribbon


    Re: System Displacement and Bonding to the Wrong Host


    Mr. Gideon


    I am sorry to hear about your predicament. We have checked our systems and found the interference you mentioned in your report. I assure you that the company and I are working tirelessly to resolve the issue. You will be the first to know when we have an answer. I would like to commend you for your quick thinking and swift action when binding to a host. The safety and well-being of our systems are our top priority. However, I regret to inform you we currently cannot connect to your location and cannot recall you from deployment.


    After a meeting with the company''s senior-most staff and hours of discussion, we decided you should continue your mission and help your host build a sect. We understand the challenging nature of this task since you don¡¯t have access to technical support and are in an environment unsuited to your current assignment. With this in mind, we are upgrading you to a platinum system despite this being your first mission.


    See the data packet below.


    With this upgrade, any challenges you encounter will be easier to handle as you are better equipped. Your rewards for reaching mission milestones will also follow the standard of a platinum system.


    I want to wish you the best of luck and assure you we are working diligently and swiftly to find a solution.


    [Deployment+upgrade&rlz=1C1CHBF_enTC855JM855&biw=1366&bih=667&sxsrf=APwXE]


    Best Wishes,


    Genesis


    ***


    I sat on the window ledge, playing with the bottle in my hand.


    The blue screen was before me, but I couldn¡¯t focus on it. My eyes concentrated on the distant peaks of Wraith Mountain.


    ¡°Lords of old on distant peaks, chanting magic under the moon. Lostonia, how wonderful is she? My heart calls for the city of old--where magic ran free.¡± I remember my mother singing that song to me. We''d walk for days, little girls clinging to the skirts of the adults. At night, we''d set up camp and the elders would gather us around a fire to pass on our history.


    When I was little, huddled together, with my friends, I loved the story of Amia the most, but the longer I lived in the duchy, the story of adventures seeing the ancient civilization that lived beyond those mountains resonated with me more. It was such an escape for me in my past life that I researched what I could about it¡ªnot that there was much¡ªonly a few historical records remained, but many considered it the birthplace of magic. Scholars named it Lostonia to make it easier to reference, but the real name was lost.


    It was an escape for me. I always dreamt of finding it, running away, and being happy.


    I scoffed. It was a children''s song and a pipe dream. Over the years, hundreds entered those forests, but none returned.


    Unauthorized tale usage: if you spot this story on Amazon, report the violation.


    They had magic, but I had nothing and wouldn''t stand a chance.


    No¡ªI had magic too. I took a deep breath, carefully unclenching my hand and resting it on the windowsill. Any more and it would shatter in my hand.


    I looked at the courtyard.


    The seventh-year students were nowhere to be seen, but the second-years clutched large tomes and waddled in groups. They¡¯d wasted no time after the rain stopped to go out and about.


    It was hard to wrap my mind around. A part of me wanted to deny, to hide away from the truth and pretend it had nothing to do with me. I''d always wanted magic, but now that the possibility was in front of me, it was scary and hard to accept.


    I grabbed the bottle and threw it, enjoying how the students scattered, looking up to find the culprit. I''d hit someone; they clutched their head, but I didn''t care.


    I didn''t care.


    I cared.


    I didn''t want to lash out at unrelated people, but I was too terrified to throw the bottle at people who deserved it.


    ¡°Lord Demon?¡±


    There was no response, and the screen was blank.


    ¡°System?¡±


    [Yes]


    I breathed a sigh of relief. ¡°May I ask what price you require for granting power, Lord Demon?¡± I¡¯d calmed down since our last encounter and had reconsidered my willingness to sell my soul. I hoped it would take something else as payment. Other people¡¯s souls, perhaps. Well, maybe something else. Hitting someone was difficult enough; I imagined getting a soul would be several times more difficult.


    [.... I am not a demon. I¡¯m a Random Generating Quest System from the Revenge Series. My code name is Gideon.]


    Did demons admit to it? Yes. The rules for them to exist on this plane were straightforward. You needed to summon them with a sacrifice, and they couldn¡¯t lie but might hide the truth. I tried to remember what else I''d read. I was so dull, if I''d paid attention I wouldn''t always be caught wrong-footed. All I could remember was that it was best to ask direct questions.


    ¡°Are you a demon?¡±


    [No]


    That confused me, but I was less cautious. No, I was more desperate than I was afraid.  thought of summoning a demon before, or else I wouldn''t have read that book. ¡°You won¡¯t ask for my soul or any other form of payment?.¡± I asked. Anything that seemed too good to be true usually was.


    [There is always a price. The System allocates revenge points and other rewards for completing tasks, which are the host rewards. In return, as the host cultivates and escapes their mortal fate and challenges the heavens, the System can collect Devine Qi.]


    I nodded. As expected, instead of upsetting me or making me nervous, my last bit of vigilance toward this system disappeared. I didn''t know what use revenge points or Devine Qi had, but an equal exchange was happening. I didn¡¯t trust it, but I knew the price it was asking on the surface.


    ¡°You¡¯re going to take my mana?¡± This question was twofold. I wanted to check whether the Qi and Mana were the same. I also wanted to see if I was losing more than I had gained.


    There was no excitement at finding out I had Mana. There was only a gaping loss and soul-deep anger.


    [Mortals don¡¯t have access to Devine Qi until they have cultivated to the atomic realm and can start seeing the threads of fate.]


    ¡°Do I need Devine Qi?¡± It seemed fantastical¡ªmore unreal than a hidden utopia in the mountains.


    [All cultivators passively store and collect Divine Qi, but it''s inaccessible. If the Host survives the heavenly tribulation and ascends to the upper realm, you can absorb and cultivate Devine Qi.]


    ¡°If you¡¯re not a demon, why are you collecting Devine Qi?¡±


    [Does the Host care if I¡¯m a demon or not?]


    Good question. ¡°Not really. I just don¡¯t want to get screwed over.¡±


    [The System won¡¯t contract a Host who doesn¡¯t desire revenge and isn¡¯t in a perilous position. To answer the host''s question, Devine Qi has multiple uses, but systems as a species cannot cultivate and collect it ourselves¡ªas such, we provide a service in exchange for payment.]


    Yeah. There was no leeway to care if it wanted to screw me over. My situation was the definition of perilous with the danger increasing the more I learned. Still, the system''s willingness to answer my question made all this a little easier. ¡°Are you a god?¡± It claimed to be a creature, but while I didn''t know every animal in the world, there weren''t any systems.


    [No]


    [Ding. Random Quest: Copy five hundred books on art, culture, history, and magic*]


    [Ding. Optional Quest: Cure status ailment.]


    It wasn''t hard to accept after all. I was reborn¡ªwhy couldn''t there be other worlds?


    ¡°What is the difference between random and optional quests?¡± The latter appeared more critical than the first. If I couldn¡¯t remove the potion¡¯s effect, I could cultivate or become a mage.


    [Random Quests are tasks chosen arbitrarily from an available list of questions. After the Host completes a certain number of quests, their level will increase, and they can access more functions of the System. Optional quests relate to cultivation. The Host can choose when or how to complete them. Cultivation is a battle against the Heavens. A person¡¯s resolve determines how far they will progress. The Host must choose their path. Every step will be arduous, and they must decide whether to proceed or stop.]


    Far from being dismayed or worried, I was excited yet I couldn''t shake the worry that this was all too good to be true. ¡°Which is better, becoming a cultivator or a mage?¡±


    [That is a comparison of apples and oranges, but with your resources and situation, cultivation is the better path.]


    "What does that mean?" I didn''t know about cultivators, but I knew mages. ''d sent the wonders and horrors that magic could produce: men who didn''t age, who could summon the dead, who could destroy mountains.


    [I am configured and contain the resources to help you cultivate Qi. I can not help you study or practice Mana.]


    It was a dumb question. I should have already known the answer. I wanted to find out more but hesitated to ask. In the end, I switched topics.


    ¡°System, do you have a potion to cure the mana-dispersing potion?¡±


    [The Host can call me Gideon. Yes. The store has several medicines that can cure or nullify the poison.]


    ¡°Call me Jal. How do I access the store?¡± The blue screen changed.


    [Storage] [Store] [Quest] [****][****]


    I giggled, tapping on ¡®Store¡¯ excitedly.


    The water-like thing rippled and changed, and there was a list of five items.


    <ol>


    <li style="font-weight: 400">User Manual</li>


    <li style="font-weight: 400">Fasting Pills </li>


    <li style="font-weight: 400">Qi Generating Pills</li>


    <li style="font-weight: 400">Remedy Pill</li>


    <li style="font-weight: 400">Brick </li>


    </ol>


    I tapped on ¡®Remedy Pill¡¯ without Gideon needing to prompt me.


    - (x100) Remedy Pill- cures low-level injuries, including cuts, broken bones, and burns. (Price= 1 Point)


    I reread the description. ¡°I don¡¯t think this is what I need.¡±


    [Insufficient level to access other items for purchase.]


    That brought me back to reality. I was too eager for quick success, even though Gideon said each step would be arduous.


    I couldn¡¯t help wishing it was that easy. With a few presses of my finger¡ªthe shame, regret, and greed that defined my life would be gone.


    Over and over, I¡¯d wanted to steal magic or destroy those who had it while not knowing I was the one who¡¯d had it stolen from me. What a nice world that would have been. Power at my fingertips as I strived to master spells and advance. I would be powerful. I knew it. While having two Mana Sources wasn¡¯t as good, I had ice and water, which were complimentary.


    Maybe not.


    The dream disappeared as I caught a black-cloaked figure walking across the courtyard, blond hair glistening in the sun. I could hear the pretentious tap of his cane as he walked.


    The people who gave me that potion were my family.


    The entire premise of my life collapsed the moment I had mana.


    My mother¡¯s reason for selling me was that I didn¡¯t have magic, and the Kala Tribe wouldn¡¯t accept me. The price the Duke paid made more sense, but why spend so much if you were going to disperse my magic?


    This raised questions about my marriage as well. Did they continue to give me the potion? They had no reason to do that. It made more sense for them to want me to learn magic. That would help regain some of the prestige lost by the Crown Prince¡¯s marriage to me and the Duke¡¯s slight of the Royal Family.


    I didn¡¯t know how this would affect my already tenuous plans of staying in the Duchy while married to Baron Smolt.


    It was already a foolhardy plan, closer to blind hope and desperation than a strategic move. If I was smarter, I''d have more options.


    I sighed. The people who had the answers I needed would never tell me. I could only increase the urgency of my plans to visit an apothecary. It was already on the list of things to do on my outing, but I no longer needed a Healing Potion since I had the Remedy Pill.


    I didn¡¯t know whether I could make a discreet inquiry or if they could help me.


    Everything had to be done slowly. Any wrong move and I''d tip off the duke and duchess.

 Ch 14 - Overthinker

    ¡°Lord Demon?¡± That was the first thing I said when I woke up. Yesterday was too unreal. While sleeping, I didn¡¯t have a single dream, and after waking, it left me wondering if the whole thing happened while I was asleep.


    It was silly, but good things didn¡¯t happen to me outside of dreams.


    I panicked before chuckling. The system had a bit of a temper; hadn''t it done this before? ¡°Gideon?¡±


    [Jal.]


    ¡°I just wanted to make sure you were there.¡± It seemed silly to call him for such a reason, but his answer caused something in my chest to unfurl. Or was the system an ¡®it¡¯?  wanted to know, but wasn''t sure I was allowed to ask.


    The response was dry, and even when said in that cold, lifeless voice, I heard the censure.


    Was it alive? I wondered. Was the floating blue window its body?


    When Gideon spoke, it sometimes sounded automatic, like a pre-prepared speech, but at other times, it was like talking to another human.


    I didn¡¯t know why I didn¡¯t just ask.


    I¡¯d wanted to explore the system more, but as I was about to check on the storage, quest, and other tabs, Catherine came in. I looked out the window, realizing she was on time, and I''d been lost in thought.


    "Morning," I said. My state was odd¡ªI was well rested, but couldn''t shake a sense of tiredness.


    "Good morning, young lady. I''ll leave the water here for you to tidy up and go fetch breakfast."


    Flopping on the bed with my arms spread and the smell of mildew tickling my nose, I organized what I needed to do.


    1. Figure out a way to stop my Mana¡­, Qi from dispersing.


    I should call it Qi from now on.


    It was impossible to depend on others. More and more, I was experiencing and understanding the nuances of others'' actions after living my life as a straightforward/dumb person. They could calculate against me and use me as a piece in their game because I was too weak.


    My best bet was the apothecary, but I feared they would report it to the Duke. In the Duchy, I was the only one who saw that family coming and thought they were the plague. The citizens respected the Duke¡¯s family for their generous and gracious conduct, which was admittedly hard to find in nobles. The taxes were fair, the security good, and there was enough food, or so I''d heard.


    I lifted a hand to my face. I¡¯d been eager to use the Remedy Pill but didn¡¯t. There were still eyes watching me, and I needed to show some outward improvement in my health before I took the pill. It would be obvious if I went from gaunt with bruises all over to healthy.


    The burns on my face healed, and there was a noticeable lightening of the bruise on my cheek. I knew the potion the Duchess gave me had nothing to do with healing, which meant she must have mixed something in with the tea she threw at me.


    It was a clever little trick. Without the system, like my last life, I would have seen the burn heal and not suspected a thing and only cursed the Duchess for not giving me a better potion when all my injuries didn¡¯t heal.


    2. Find out why they switched my marriage candidate.


    If I could figure it out, I would be better able to stop it from happening. There was little chance of me cultivating to a level where I could defeat the Duke, all the mages, and the soldiers living in the Duchy in such a short time frame. I didn''t even know how to cultivate and couldn''t until I reversed the poison.


    3. Find out what Viscountess Rintour was up to.


    I expected her to get rid of her lover and the maid who knew, but I didn¡¯t expect her to convince the Duchess to send me to magic classes. I didn¡¯t know her and couldn¡¯t guess her motives. It seemed like she was helping me, but I hesitated, suspecting she had other motives.


    4. Find out what Madeline wanted and if she was working for someone.


    The easiest way to do that was through Catherine. She was fourteen and talented since she had at least one magic circle formed, but she was still a child. With coercion and incentives, I could use her to figure out what her aunt was up to. It helped that she had her own agenda.


    5. Develop a respectful but distant relationship with Baron Smolt.


    6. Avoid the Crown Prince.


    7. Find out why they gave me mana--Qi dispersing potion, why my mother sold me, and what the Duke planned.


    It was the least important thing on the list, but the most important to me. I wanted a reason for the life I¡¯d lived. Hating the Duke and my mother was easy, but I needed to stop. My anger was the same as drinking poison and expecting others to die. Time and time again, I was the one to get hurt.


    Apart from being the least important, it was also the hardest to investigate.


    Who was I kidding? Most items on this list bordered on impossible.


    The door burst open, and Catherine came storming in. I turned my head to look at her, wondering what made her so angry this morning.


    ¡°Miss, can you believe it?¡±


    I blinked, waiting for her to continue, but she stared at me with owlish eyes. ¡°Helga,¡± she said, stomping her foot.


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    That was a name I hadn¡¯t heard in a while. The thought made me chuckle. It was only a few days, but it seemed longer. ¡°That doesn¡¯t tell me anything. Didn¡¯t Madeline say she would take care of it?¡±


    ¡°Don¡¯t bring my aunt into this. If it wasn¡¯t for that shameless creature.¡± Catherine stamped her foot. It was my first time seeing her act like a young girl. ¡°Can you believe it? That nasty thing tricked Young Master Bastian.¡±


    Oh, wow. Was the answer that simple? It happened the same way. Helga allowed Madeline to place Catherine at my side, and then Helga started having a relationship with my brother. Either Madeline was more capable than I thought, Helga more alluring than a blood-sucking leech, or Bastian planned this.


    I knew little about my eldest brother. The first and last time we met was at my wedding, and even then, we only saw each other from across the room. Bastian was said to be capable, sufficiently powerful, and well-liked by his peers. His only fault was being lusty, a trait most noblemen share.


    ¡°Is he someone that Helga can trick?¡±


    Catherine screeched, her eyes turning red. ¡°What else could it be?¡±


    ¡°She¡¯s not the first maid he¡¯s taken to his bed. I doubt she will be the last. Even I know that, and I''m the last to know anything around here.¡±


    She marched towards me, and I felt the urge to back away. Instead, I forced myself to stay still. "Catherine ?" I asked, tilting my head to the side, widening my eyes, and tentatively reaching out my hand before letting it fall.


    She stopped and fidgeted before sighing. ¡°Don¡¯t talk about him that way.¡± Her eyes burned, and I was sure Catherine would attack me if I continued.


    I held up my hand in surrender, trying to keep the amusement off my face. This display of young love and obsession playing out in front of me was interesting. Catherine was an odd creature¡ªa doll whose parts were exquisite, but when the doll-maker started putting her together, they noticed the pieces didn¡¯t fit but continued, anyway. Or the doll-maker knew and did it on purpose. A defective product could be useful. Look at me. It wasn''t a stretch to assume that Catherine''s plans involved my brother, which was the worst possible action she could take.


    ¡°Would you like me to ask him for you?¡± I asked, lifting my arms so she could finish tightening my dress. I glanced at the table. Catherine hadn''t brought breakfast when she stormed in.


    I was tired of oats, bread, cheese, and soup even if it was fresh, and tasted, okay all things considered, but I''d have to go to the dining room for anything else, and I didn''t want to deal with the Duke''s family. I didn''t know how I didn''t get colic in my past life.


    She tugged, pinching the dress so tight I wheezed.


    I turned to face her. There was a blush on her cheeks, and her chest heaved. ¡°Could you?¡±


    It was supposed to be a joke, but the idea had merit. I was in a passive position, stuck reacting to the things happening to me. There wasn¡¯t too much danger in taking a few calculated risks. ¡°When would I get the chance to meet with him? I guess it may be interesting to talk to him. Oh, I never get to spend time with them.¡± I thought of my longing for a family, and my voice turned wistful. I looked at Catherine and smiled. My eyes only briefly glanced at the door. I couldn¡¯t approach Bastian myself.


    ¡°Yes, speaking to him would be so nice,¡± she said, her voice wistful as she helped me finish getting dressed. Where she used too much strength before, her fingers were clumsy now. Catherine tied the gaudy bow at my waist into a sloppy mess. "You might not know my lady, but young master Bastien is polite, poised, and eloquent. He listens to you. Makes you feel special."


    I didn¡¯t answer, and she was content to chatter about my brother.


    I glanced at the door.


    Madeline was listening and if she worked for Bastian, then he''d get the message and arrange a meeting if he wanted. If she worked for more than one person¡­, well, so be it.


    There was a familiar clang as Madeline came into the room. I looked at the chatelaine hanging at her waist. It carried a wand, scissors, a notepad, a magnifying glass, and a quill, everything a capable Head Maid needed. Funny, it didn¡¯t make a sound until she entered the room.


    I put the matter to the back of my mind. It was best to behave as usual since I was only testing the waters. ¡°Good Morning, Madeline," I said with a smile.


    Madeline was carrying a tray of food. ¡°Good Morning, Young Lady.¡± She looked at me before shaking her head. ¡°Catherine, you will need to help the Young Lady change. That dress isn¡¯t suitable to wear to town.¡± She moved to the cupboard and pulled out a mud-brown dress. "You''ll have to forgive Catherine, my lady. She''s not as steady as an older, more experienced maid would be. Catherine needs to learn patience and to control her temper. It''s the only way for her to advance and achieve her goals." Madeline''s gaze at her niece was a blend of chastising, censure, and love.


    Maybe? Madeline controlled and nurtured Catherine''s unreasonable expectations and goals. She might even know of Catherine''s resentment, but let it continue because it motivated Catherine and wasn''t a threat.


    I was happy about going out, but everything I learned made me uneasy. It seemed impossible to enjoy the outing. They also gave me only a short time to prepare, but I knew it was my only opportunity. The duchess never changed her mind, and I needed to accomplish several things on this trip.


    ¡°Who will accompany me?¡± I asked. I was reevaluating Catherine''s usefulness, glad I''d put off approaching her.


    ¡°Typhon, his son Zagan, and Catherine," Madeline said.


    Typhon, I remembered him from my father''s office. He was scary in a way I hadn''t experienced before. I''d never met anyone who appeared so harmless. I''d only caught a glimpse as I was rushed out of the room, but he was distant and wore a benign smile. He looked how I thought a pope should, watching the world with endless kindness and patience.


    I stood with my arms stretched, lost in thought as Madeline helped me change. I looked like a commoner¡ªnot the good kind either. It was a new dress, the material better than any they''d given me before, but I looked like a refugee.


    They weren''t done, painting my face, cramming my feet into too-small shoes, and bundling my hair atop my head before shoving it beneath a bonnet. Nothing they did or added helped the outfit, instead making it worse. It was a family talent Cathrine inherited from her aunt, styling clothes to be as hideous as possible.


    ¡°You won¡¯t be using your identity when you leave the castle. It is for your safety and to allow you to walk unhindered.¡± Madeline stepped back, looking me up and down before nodding with satisfaction.


    I nodded along to the lie. It didn''t bother me¡ªI''d worn worse. Mud and dried blood didn''t cake the dress, and, as ugly as it was, the material was soft and smelt good. ¡°I didn¡¯t have an identity to begin with.¡±


    Madeline paused. She knew what I was talking about. ''Princess Selena.'' ''Princess Tracy.'' While I was called Jal, or Young Miss and Young Lady, to those who wanted something. I was legally adopted and legitimized--it should be Princess Jal, as ridiculous as that sounded.


    ¡°Will I get to meet Typhon and Zagan before we leave?¡± I''d met Typhon briefly, but he''d terrified me more than anything.


    Madeline shook her head. ¡°There isn''t the time. They''ll be introduced to you when you get on the carriage, but that''s it. Catherine, be a dear and go change your dress.¡±


    Catherine bobbed her head and happily smiled before rushing out of the room.


    ¡°Such a kind child,¡± she said before cold eyes turned to look at me. The kind persona was gone, melting off her face.


    I blinked at her, not prepared for the change in demeanor. ¡°You''re not kind at all.¡± Madeline''s hands gripped my cheeks, turning my face this way and that. ¡°You might be of some use to, Bastien.¡±

 Ch 15 - Exposed

    I panicked for a second, thinking she''d seen through me, but that didn''t seem likely. She was probing to see how I''d respond.


    It shocked me that Madeline used his first name. It wasn¡¯t something servants did, even if given permission. Their relationship was closer than I''d assumed.


    I tugged at the fear that was my companion and didn''t speak until my body was trembling. "A¡ªa¡ªgi¡ªgirl''s." I paused, my chest heaving. That little trick worked too well. It wasn''t the same as using other memories to get the right emotional state when acting in front of others. The fear was harder to control, taking over and pushing me into a darkness I wasn''t ready to face. My hand rose, clutching at the wrist of the hand still holding my face the grip tightening. "A girl''s ma¡ªmarriage depends on how much her family cares about her.¡±


    I wanted to be angry. I should feel something about her disrespect. I knew I should lash out, but I stood there, my knees threatening to give out.


    Catherine¡¯s value dropped lower on my mental abacus.


    ¡°As usual, he''s right. Bastien has a soft spot for useless things, so I thought this was his pity acting up again, but you might not be as stupid as I thought." Madeline wiped her hand against her dress. "Well, you were born in the Kala tribe and didn''t come to the duchy until you were nine. Women from that tribe know the value of men better than any." Her lips compressed and her eyes burned with disgust. "I didn''t think you could do much, but he insisted on watching you to see if you were worth recruiting or using.¡±


    "Using?" I asked.


    "Haven''t you figured it out?" she asked, her gaze returned to being kind.


    I shook my head. My hands curled into balls as I tried to stop the shaking. "It''s--" I searched for the right words. "It''s not that I figured anything out, but¡ªit doesn''t make sense." I bit my lip, my head looking at the floor. "It''s too good to be true." My words started strong but ended in a whisper.


    It took everything in me not to peek up and see if she believed me.


    "You''re right. It doesn''t." She tutted. "It''s good that you could figure out that much. Children with a rougher upbringing are better at sensing emotions, particularly malice. Did you find me suspicious from the start?"


    My head snapped up. Not too much or too little, I reminded myself. Think of this as practice. "No," I said, my hands coming up to clutch each other. "I wanted to--" I let my words trail off in frustration.


    "Ah, you wanted to believe." She laughed it was full, round, and mocking.


    "Catherine ''s my friend," I blurted out. My eyes burned with determination. "Catherine ''s my friend," I said softer. "Catherine ¡ªwe''re friends?"


    Madeline''s gaze looked suspicious before she let it go. "I suppose she could be."


    What did that mean?


    I turned away. "We are. We will be." I said, my voice firm.


    "It would be my niece''s good fortune, Young Lady," she said, her voice laced with happiness.


    I reached for my jewelry box as Madeline stood to the side, watching me. I chose the finer pieces and put them in my bag to sell. A ring caught my eye before I shoved it inside.


    I reorganized the information I had.


    Making Madeline''s son, the viscount was probably one of Bastien''s rewards to Madeline for her help.


    Either Catherine was collateral damage or they needed her for something else. It was probably the former since Catherine was a dowery maid and moved to the capital with me after marriage. If nothing changed, it would be the same now.


    Bastien didn''t know about the marriage swap but was already weary of his mother and Selena.


    Selena was a threat to Bastian. The Duchess gave me a clue yesterday--her bitter words about families favoring sons to inherit. That didn¡¯t apply to Selena because she had overwhelming magical talent.


    Was that talent enough to abandon the Royal Family?


    Why did she favor Selena so much? Bastien was her son. Or did she hate men? But the Duke and Duchess had a good relationship.


    No. That didn''t fit. I''d eliminated that possibility. Was the engagement to distract and disarm Bastian? A married woman wasn''t a threat, no matter how strong she was, but Selena married Baron Smolt.


    The last piece of the puzzle eluded me. I didn''t know the Duke and Duchess''s goal, and why they were going to such lengths for Selena.


    Was it a prophecy?


    Or divination?


    They might know about the civil war that was about to happen or the Holy Nation operating in the dark.


    "Do you want to change your necklace?" Madeline asked.


    My hand unconsciously rose to clutch the pedant. It was too bulky to hide under this dress, but I couldn''t bear to remove it. I''d have to when I got married, but for a bit longer, I wanted to hold on to this small part of my mother and tribe.


    ¡°Is it fun stealing from children?¡± I asked. Idiot, I chastised after the words came out of my mouth, but it was too late.


    Madeline''s gaze was deeper, more inquiring, and she instantly knew what I was talking about. ¡°Amusing enough. I was taking back what should have been mine.¡±


    ¡°This is confusing." I took out my diary that I''d hidden under the mattress. I made sure that Madeline couldn''t see and started writing. "I¡¯m taking it you are the older sister of Catherine¡¯s father?¡±


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    ¡°The oldest unfavored daughter of the first wife. Very similar to Bastian.¡± Madeline went and set up the table.


    My head whipped around, jaw slack. Bastian wasn¡¯t the Duchess¡¯s child? I ducked my head, writing furiously.


    Madeline watched¡ªa smile on her lips. ¡°You¡¯re better and worse than you were in the past. At least you¡¯re a little smarter. "Do you record all your thoughts?¡±


    ¡°Worse?¡± I asked. My mind focused on the word ¡®past¡¯. Fear gripped my heart as I wondered if she¡¯d noticed something. I pushed it aside. "It helps. Like to organize and keep track." I rubbed my finger against the page, a bit relieved. It seemed I''d covered my slip up. "I only just started doing it." The changes in my behavior needed to be reasonable, and explainable by what was happening in my life.


    I was the first to admit I wasn¡¯t smart. I often called myself stupid and na?ve, but I thought I was doing alright.


    Madeline shook her head. ¡°Worse. Why do you think I''m by your side?¡±


    I didn¡¯t have an answer to that, having only recently figured out that the Duke or Duchess hadn¡¯t sent Madeline to my side. In all my considerations, I didn¡¯t even remember Bastian. Hell, other than Selena, I often forgot about my other siblings. ¡°I was useful,¡± I said with more confidence than I felt.


    She nodded. ¡°Why am I here now?¡±


    I tilted my head to the side. ¡°I¡¯m still useful.¡±


    Madeline nodded. ¡°Good.¡± She walked to the window and looked into the courtyard. ¡°I don¡¯t know what stimulated you; if it was the seven days of harsher than usual confinement or the news of your marriage, but you¡¯ve changed. That''s not a bad thing. Bastien thought you might, which is why he sent me to test the water, but I thought you were too dumb and angry.¡±


    My heart raced. Madeline brought up the one thing I didn¡¯t want others to notice. I kept silent for fear of revealing more than I already had. ¡°Have I?¡± I checked my behavior from top to bottom but couldn¡¯t figure it out.


    ¡°How many times have you left this room?¡± Her hand swept out, but she didn¡¯t look away from the window.


    Oh. Yeah. fuck. I was too quiet.


    Idiot.


    Brianless fool.


    I had a behavior blueprint from my past life and still missed that detail. No. It was because of the learned behavior from my past life that I''d made the mistake. I''d spent so many years trying to be as small as possible and praying that no one noticed me, that it unknowingly affected my actions now.


    Yeah.


    How often had I left this room?


    It was only four to five times in as many days. Unless someone called, I didn¡¯t leave my room as though someone chained me inside.


    The more I thought about it, the more ridiculous it was.


    What determination to die?


    I felt scared.


    The choices I had to make, the future, my shadow¡ªall of it scared me. My most reckless and decisive action was threatening the Viscountess and asking permission to leave the castle. Other than that, I stayed in my room and plotted in circles, wondering about everyone''s thoughts and what their actions could mean.


    My memory wasn¡¯t clear, but before I never missed a meal with the family, I was always running out to make a mess in the gardens, and sneaking out to see the Crown Prince.


    Why else were they always punishing me?


    Everywhere I went, I made trouble.


    If they locked me away for punishment, I''d sneak into the kitchen and eat until I vomited.


    I''d torment the maids and stalk Selena, mirroring her every action because, as disdainful of her as I was, I also wanted to be like her.


    At this time, in my life, I dedicated my entire heart and soul to making my presence known. I refused to let anyone forget me, even if they looked at me with disgust. I took pride in the staff''s dislike. The duchy''s animals ran when they saw me coming. I loved it when the Duchess had to cancel plans because of some mess I''d made. The more they let me get away with¡ªthe bolder I became.


    It was a way to affirm my existence.


    ¡°Why did he send you then, and why are you here now?¡± I sat still, the notebook clenched in my hand. It wasn''t that they didn''t notice the change in me--it''s that no one thought it would make a difference in my situation.


    ¡°We were watching to see if there were clues about the Duke¡¯s intentions. You also made a general nuisance of yourself that we hoped to use to our advantage.¡± Madeline moved from the window. "Catherine was to indulge and facilitate your recklessness." The ornaments at her waist no longer clinked together as she walked.


    ¡°And now?¡± I asked, wanting to be calm and collected, but my voice trembled. I felt disheartened, wondering if my actions made a difference.


    Madeline didn¡¯t seem shocked by my behavior, only curious. ¡°I don¡¯t know. Bastian ordered me to be upfront if you hinted at wanting to meet.¡±


    If I could guess how people would react, they could do the same for me. They had the advantage of having people around them to help. I cheered myself up. A few cuts and bruises while learning something new were expected. I was starting, and I hadn''t stumbled too badly. II cheered myself up and tried not to feel like such a failure.


    The brother I didn''t know or remember had a firm grasp of my situation. He tested me, and I suspected him. Well¡ªI doubted Madeleine, who worked for him, which was close enough. The question was whether I could believe anything Madeline said. ¡°Is there anything you know? I''ve been trying to piece it together, but can''t figure it out.¡± I spoke the truth but kept it vague.


    Madeline pondered my words. ¡°We can''t explain your presence in the castle. Everyone is trying to figure it out. Do you know why the nobility favored members of the Kala Tribe as mistresses?¡± When Madeline saw me shake my head, she continued. ¡°There are three reasons. First, women of the Kala Tribe only give birth to daughters. Second, they never stay with the child¡¯s father. Once pregnant, they return to the tribe, ensuring the child never knows their parentage. Third, they have a death vow made in the name of the Goddess Avea that they won''t marry. All three make them ideal mistresses. No desire for marriage. No desire to make their children the heir or fight for property. And then there is you, a child of the Kala Tribe, left with their father and arranged in a marriage. If he wanted you dead, there are easier ways to kill you.¡±


    A chill settled into my heart. Madeline only knew that much, but I¡¯d¡ªnot only married¡ªbut given birth to a son. In my heart, I knew my son was a miracle, but I knew nothing about the death vow. The second I signed the vows on my wedding day, I should have died.


    My gut reaction was to question whether I was a member of the Kala Tribe, but my hair and eyes weren¡¯t fake. Then there were also the words of the Queen Dowager on my wedding day. Kala Tribe bitch.


    I hesitated for a moment. ¡°My mother sold me to the Duke,¡± I reported the figure, but again felt it was about more than money.


    ¡°That much?¡± Madeline¡¯s eyes were wide. ¡°It¡¯s not a large sum, but it¡¯s not small either. It''s a waste if all he intends to do is let you die.¡±


    I didn¡¯t explain the Duke¡¯s plan because there was no evidence, and I didn¡¯t trust Bastian¡¯s interest in me. Plus, I''d have to explain how I knew it and couldn''t.


    ¡°When can you arrange a meeting between us?¡± I asked. Today was suitable. I had plans to leave the castle, and they were more important.


    She gave me a chastising look that had me shrinking my neck. ¡°Why is it that complicated? Bastian is in the library every day from five to six. You can also go to his office.¡± Her gaze was critical. "What happened? You''ve always marched around this castle like an owner."


    I felt the heavy weight of a chain attached to my ankle dragging me down. It would be better if it were a physical chain that I could break. However, it was another mental issue I had to deal with. I was used to having people tell me where to go and what to do. I didn¡¯t even think to question it, staying in my room, and making small moves.


    ¡°I''ll visit him the day after tomorrow in the library at five.¡± The system said I needed to scan books, but didn''t have any other stipulations. Why did I add visiting a bookstore to today''s already busy plans instead of going to the library?


    Why did it have to be complicated?


    My fingers scratched at the paper, causing it to tear.

 Ch 16 - Fate Plundering

    I stood in the middle of a bustling town¡ªalone.


    Typhon, Zagan, Catherine, Lisa, and the two guards accompanying me were gone.


    Our separation could have been an accident, but that was unlikely. It didn''t take me long to figure out who was behind this little trick. The Duke, Duchess, and Selena were on the same side, and they wanted to monitor me as closely as possible. Bastian, while not an ally, didn''t have a motive, and we were exploring whether we could work together. That left Tracy.


    I tried imaging her face, but couldn''t. Instead, I imagined Selena muddying her features to make them less distinct. It was close enough.


    When I first tried to determine the best course of action, I lumped all the Duke''s family together, but that was a mistake. They weren''t working together, but that didn''t tell me much.


    I remembered the ''Empress'' and wondered if it was Tracy.


    How would the second daughter of a duke end up as a prostitute in the capital?


    It made more sense why the crown prince married her. Yes, she filled the space so that a more powerful family couldn''t claim the Empress seat, and Tracy''s children could inherit the title if the crown reclaimed the duchy.


    Several eyes wandered to me before looking away.


    The smartest thing to do was to find a guard and tell him my identity. The second best option was to stay in one place, making it easier to locate me.


    I didn¡¯t do either.


    With steady steps, I got lost in the crowd, sending the bag with my jewelry into the system''s storage so I wouldn¡¯t get pickpocketed.


    The town was lively. Some people moved around with purpose, while others hung around talking in groups. You could tell they lived good lives¡ªsmiles came easily to their faces.


    As I left the central square, I entered a market street. The colorful goods caught my attention. I walked past all the food items and looked at the poetry and jewelry. There was a bustle around me and I felt calmer than I had felt in days.


    The hum of voices and shouts of vendors provided a tune that people moved to. There was something special about getting lost in a crowd where no one knew who you were.


    ¡°What is that?¡± I asked, pointing to a bracelet.


    ¡°It¡¯s a seashell from the south. Only,--¡± Her words stopped. A look of fright appeared on her face to be replaced by disgust.


    I turned¡ªan old woman stood beside me.


    My breath hitched, wheezing and rattling, as I forced air in and out of my body.


    Dull pink hair streaked with gray-


    Faded red eyes-


    A wire-wrapped pendant-


    She smiled at me, turned, and walked away.


    My feet moved automatically, following her as she ducked into an alley. The liveliness of the street disappeared as we moved deeper into the slums. The rotten eggy smell of sewage and stagnant water was choking but familiar.


    The woman at the stall called out to me, but I barely heard her, ignoring her as I followed the old woman''s hunched back.


    I stopped, turning to look at the bright street and then into the shadowy darkness. I looked at the light with longing before continuing to follow the woman. Her step hadn¡¯t paused, and I jogged to catch up.


    Soon she entered a house covered in vines, windows hanging off their hinges, with the door split in two. It creaked and groaned with the effort it took to stay standing, much like its occupant.


    The smell of smoke and herbs wafted out of the house, covering the natural rotting smell that oozed out of the ground and air in the slums. It was a familiar smell. Regardless of the town, every shanty settlement seemed to have that scent of decay.


    My skin pebbled as fear settled in. We hadn¡¯t seen a single person as we walked. That was the strangest thing of all. These narrow, dimly lit alleys were usually teeming with voices. Women hanging their laundry from the ropes attached to windows, children running around, prostitutes soliciting, and thugs milling about.


    I shuffled my feet, hesitating.


    Determined, I clenched my fist and entered.


    She was sitting on a chair facing the door. A smile tugged at the edge of her lips. The skin on her face was unused to the action, pulling and stretching as her face struggled to make the expression.


    ¡°I am shocked. So shocked. Oh, hmmm.¡± The old woman crooned, then hacked a cough that shuddered through her whole body, threatening to splinter her to pieces. Aged and withered, the only vitality she had shone through her all-knowing eyes as she stripped me bare. For once, someone''s gaze on me was awed, and I didn''t feel lacking. It was more than being a curiosity to her or amusement. ¡°Truly a blessed child, despite having your fate plundered.¡±


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    The word ¡®fate¡¯ set my teeth on edge. The strange atmosphere popped, pierced by her words as my consciousness jolted back into my body.


    Fate¡ªa word I¡¯d turned over in my mind and couldn¡¯t help using to explain my situation. Yet, it wasn''t a word I liked. It made my situation seem permanent and unchangeable.


    Those with enough money and power to change the situation used fate as a broad brush to paint over and hide the injustice and suffering of the lowly. It forced them to accept the situation as a fact, and they could only comfort themselves by calling it fate. As though, using the influence of a higher power to make what happened inevitable would ease the pain of their despair or lessen the hunger clawing at their stomachs.


    ¡°Fuck fate.¡± I looked at my feet - feeling betrayed - wondering why I left the light to wander here to listen to this old hag spew tripe.


    I looked up but forced down the words I wanted to say as I saw her head bobbing.


    I wanted to caution her not to move. One wrong motion, and it seemed like her head would pop off and plop on the ground.


    ¡°Yes. I have never seen someone step so cleanly out of fate¡¯s control. Never seen it. In all my years. War. War is coming swiftly on the east wind. Challenge the heavens. Yes. That¡¯s what I hear¡ªthe whine of shackles breaking and falling. Heaven revolting.¡±


    My heart stopped dead. It was shocking enough to hear her mention the war, but she repeated the same words Gideon said. Cultivate and challenge the heavens. ¡°What else did you hear?¡± I asked, whispering.


    ¡°Hmmm, I thought you didn¡¯t believe in fate.¡± Her eyes drifted down, focusing on a spot on my chest. The wire-wrapped stone around my neck was identical to hers. It felt heavy where it rested against my chest.


    ¡°I didn¡¯t say that.¡± I wasn''t that foolish. I knew of prophecies and the inevitability of some things. Divination was also popular and accurate enough if you could find someone with the gift instead of a charlatan. I just hated it as a catch-all term to explain the misery of people''s lives.


    I used my fate as a crutch to view my incompetence and stupidity as unluckiness, while others achieved preordained success. The word ignored and diminished their planning, shrewdness, and malicious drive to do whatever it took to achieve their goal despite what it might cost.


    ¡°Once when I was younger-¡±


    I wanted to tell her to stop the story and get to the point, but her eyes warned me to keep quiet or I wouldn¡¯t get any answers.


    ¡°I used to have beautiful pink hair that I dyed black. I couldn¡¯t do magic but-¡±


    My impatience vanished, replaced by a familiar feeling. I crossed my hands over my chest and ignored the chill in my hands and feet and the sinking feeling in my stomach.


    This was my first time seeing another member of the Kala Tribe since my mother left me with the duke, but I couldn¡¯t be happy about it.


    ¡°I was skilled in other areas. I was young, but the promise of the power I held made me popular. Then one day, when I was nine, the priestess called me to her tent, and the next thing I knew, my mother brought me to my father¡¯s house, and a bright red stone hung around my neck to remind me no matter how far I was from the tribe, they remembered me.¡±


    I bit my tongue, the tang of blood filling my mouth. All the hairs on the back of my neck stood on end. It was clear she had the answers to what happened to me in the past, but I didn¡¯t want to know.


    I covered my ears, crouching down.


    I don''t know how long I stayed like that, the sound of blood rushing in my ears.


    I didn''t want to know. However, my current situation made staying ignorant impossible.


    ¡°He was a kind man. I lived in comfort, if not splendor, until I turned sixteen. One day I woke up, and something felt off. Something I had before was missing.¡± She paused, taking a wheezing breath¡ªthe effort to speak consuming everything she had.


    I wanted to claw my hair out. I was quaking to the point I could hear my teeth rattling, but I was also numb.


    Yet, I didn¡¯t rush her. The differences in our stories weren¡¯t comforting because the similarities filled me with dread.


    I remembered that feeling. Total emptiness¡ªas if someone had torn a hole in my chest and scooped out all the parts that made me¡ªme.


    I remember attributing the feeling of desolateness to the experiences I endured on my wedding night.


    ¡°The sister I cherished and respected was kind enough to explain it to me.¡± Her eyes misted over and her pale lips pulled into a brittle smile. ¡°They stole my fate.¡± Gnarled, trembling fingers reached up to hold the stone at her neck.


    I slumped to the ground, glad I was crouching instead of standing. My hand mirrored hers as it reached up and clutched the stone I couldn¡¯t bear to take off.


    It was the only thing left to me by my mother. A reminder that I had somewhere else I belonged to. I clung to it even after knowing my mother sold me to the Duke. Even after the Queen Dowager took it away.


    Laughter bubbled out of me, burning my throat as I vomited it out. The old woman joined me. Our cackles rose higher, a symphony of madness and desolation.


    There was no use for sobriety.


    Flat on the ground, heaving, caked in dirt, I was calmest since my rebirth.


    There was no need to be clean.


    There were some things only dirty people could do. The struggle I experienced as I wondered what direction my life would take was meaningless.


    ¡°What else?¡± I asked.


    ¡°What happened to you?¡± she countered, greed replacing the craziness I saw before.


    ¡°I woke up from a long dream.¡±


    ¡°Bullshit,¡± she said, but the look left her eyes, leaving the frail woman who¡¯d seen too much and accepted her fate. It was like looking at the future me, kneeling in that cesspit-like cave, praying to a god I didn''t believe in. This woman had already given up. She slumped into the chair, looking smaller than before.


    I shrugged. That was what happened. I died and woke up after having a long nightmare of a life. If I knew the secret to what happened, I would tell her.


    ¡°What else?¡± I asked, readjusting until I sat with my arms around my knees.


    ¡°The Kala Tribe worships the Goddess Avea, the mother of all daughters. If a child is born in the tribe with a fate not gifted to her by the Holy Mother, Avea, her mother would bring her to her father, who would decide if he wanted to buy the child¡¯s fate. My fate wasn¡¯t strong enough to trigger a prophecy, and I never learned which god gifted it to me, but I was blessed to bring good fortune to everyone I care about, and my life would be smooth without issues and I''d accomplish anything I set my mind to.¡± She looked to the south.

 Ch 17 - Lets Call it Luck

    I lied. Even if I knew what happened, I wouldn¡¯t share it with anyone. It wasn¡¯t a matter of trust - though I didn¡¯t trust her - it was a matter of greed.


    A distant memory sparked, a woman with cruel eyes and a metal-tipped cane¡ªthe words of my husband''s grandmother on my wedding day.


    Bring that thing off that mongrel''s neck.


    ¡°Ralford.¡± I didn¡¯t realize I¡¯d said it out loud until I heard a strangled wail.


    The old woman started rocking in place, muttering to herself.


    It was a name everyone knew. Three generations ago, the head of the Ralford Family was a sell-sword who got a Baronet Title for his service to the Crown. Now they were the undisputed rulers of the South.


    That was all because of one woman.


    Clarissa Ralford. The current Queen Dowager of Sargos.


    It was a legendary story of love and sacrifice.


    Clarissa, whose birth wasn¡¯t high enough to become Empress, met Crown Prince Staffon while studying in the capital and blocked an assassin¡¯s attack for him. They were fond of each other while attending Knox Academy, but the then Emperor arranged his son''s marriage and they parted ways because she refused to become his mistress. In an effort not to wrong the brave and strong girl who captivated him, he made her his only queen when he became the Emperor.


    Because of the Emperor''s love and favor, it was a position more valuable and powerful than being Empress. Clarissa¡¯s expert pillow talk landed her son on the throne after her husband died, squeezing out the two male heirs of the Empress.


    Both of the crown prince''s younger brothers died a few months after their father, and the Empress, grieving the loss of her sons, committed suicide.


    It was a tidy, picture-perfect story¡ªif you squinted, the lights were dim, and you got hit in the head with a rock.


    The problems started with the current emperor, who, while an excellent ruler, wasn¡¯t a romantic like his father. He had an Empress and five queens as allotted.


    However, they weren''t enough for him, and he had many mistresses. That many women led to even more children. All of which were given proper titles and ranks. I didn''t know the exact number, but the crown prince always complained about the cost of marrying off his sisters and killing his brothers.


    The crown prince was the only son of the Empress and the only grandchild Queen Dowager Clarissa acknowledged. He failed to live up to their expectations and was a sadistic, incompetent cockroach. He also took after his father and was a lustful ghost, never satisfied.


    Yes.


    The civil war was inevitable.


    The crown prince wouldn''t have lived or ascended to the throne if the Holy Nation hadn''t intervened.


    ¡°What else?¡± I asked.


    Those faded red eyes focused on me. ¡°Curious. Curious little kitty. Strange fate. Broken fate. Unwritten.¡± She sighed. "As good as it''s bad."


    Her eyes blurred, and I realized she wasn''t coherent, teetering on clarity and insanity. It was almost like the woman who spoke a moment ago was an illusion.


    ¡°What is this?¡± I held up my necklace, relieved to see the fog clearing from her eyes.


    ¡°Anything taken must have a way to get from one place to the next. That-¡± she said, pointing to the stone. ¡°-acts as a conduit, exchanging your fate with the fate of the person who wears its pair. There are two conditions. They must be blood-related to the person they want to exchange fates with, and that person must be female.¡±


    ¡°Exchange?¡±


    ¡°Yes. That person takes your magic and fate, and you get hers.¡±


    ¡°My magic?¡± My voice was high, my hand moved to my heart, and I struggled to sit up.


    She gave me a pitying glance. ¡°What else? Who could identify and transfer something so abstract as fate to someone else? Our Mana Source is the essence of who we are. After the transfer, your half-sister becomes you. Any magical contracts signed would change the person bound by those contracts. Everything except your appearance ends up swapped." Her index fingers pointed in the air and crossed. "The tribe gives out a manual to explain the best way to make the transfer without either party noticing. The first step is to block your magic because it¡¯s easier to do if you are unaware. A person with a double fire-lightning source would notice if they suddenly ended up with a four-element waste source. It would be obvious." She shook her head. "If you¡¯re over fifteen, the magic has finished transferring, and it will take a year to settle in the new hosts. If that comes off your neck, then puff, all their hard work is gone. It takes time to transfer, but moments to return.¡±


    An image of the swirling silver light shining in the orb as the magic teacher proudly declared Selena had a single Ice Mana Source.


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    How proud she was.


    Did she know she was stealing someone''s fate?


    Would she care?


    I laughed at myself¡ªof course¡ªshe knew. That smug look, the way the potion reacted to me. All the little pieces that didn''t make sense fit together. She knew everything, and Selena was happy to do it while laughing at me.


    Human greed was inexhaustible.


    My hands curled into claws, dragging along the muddy, rotten wooden floors. I felt them cracking and breaking. I screamed¡ªa loud, anguished, broken sound pulled from the pits of my stomach, shaking my soul.


    I frowned. ¡°Why go through all that trouble--¡±


    The hefty price the Duke paid for me made sense. Upgrading his daughter to the famed single Ice Mana Source the Amber Lineage was known for.


    She cackled, cutting me off. I could see the blacks of her gums and rotted teeth. ¡°It was never about them. Not to the Kala Tribe. All of this is a punishment for you-¡± she pointed at me and then herself ¡°-and me. The Tribe can¡¯t forgive heretics born outside of the grace of the Goddess Avea. Be grateful you have a fate worth selling, the daughters without that are killed. Or maybe it would be better to die early? Those girls drink a painless poison. Their sin was lighter since they didn¡¯t defile their bodies with the blessings of another god. The Tribe will never allow you to live a decent life. Every time you find contentment or happiness, they will destroy it. They''ll never forgive you until you''re dead. Punishment. Yes. That hollowness you¡¯ll feel after you turn sixteen is a death mark on your soul." She paused, peering at me, seeing something amusing. "Well, it should. That won¡¯t happen to you, will it? No. Fate is unraveling. When that last bit breaks, you will be free. I''ve seen anything like it.¡±


    ¡°How can you see it now?¡± I asked, shoving everything else in the corner of my mind to examine later. My voice came out cracked, dry from overuse and screaming. It didn''t matter. I spit on the floor, trying to clear the taste of dirt and blood from my mouth.


    She opened her mouth, a gaping maw, but no sound came out. I felt unease and a creeping cold settled into the room.


    ¡°Necromancer,¡± I said, the words exhaled on a breath that misted as it left my mouth. ¡°I thought-¡± Everyone thought they were a myth, hunted and destroyed centuries ago, but I knew the truth. I remembered--


    Oh, ye of lost faith and broken truth. What a waste, what a waste. Fighting and not knowing the prize is gone. Funny. So Funny. We must keep this secret so the fun can go on. Little one, how will you repay us?


    I forced the memory away, my arms coming up to protect myself. My eyes scanned the shadows, ready to bite my tongue if they appeared.


    ¡°Hehe. None know what I am, and I can¡¯t say, but it easily slips off your tongue. How interesting. Oh, how interesting. Yes. I am that." She giggled like a girl, an odd sound coming from her. "You found your way to escape fate''s control, and I found mine.¡±


    Her words made it clear they hadn''t raised her.


    ¡°I didn¡¯t find it." Calling for Gideon in my mind, I only felt relieved when the blue surface appeared. "I woke up like this.¡± Yet, it explained so much about my experience in my past life. I didn¡¯t have Avea¡¯s blessing, so I could marry and give birth to a son without dying.


    ¡°There is no need to question it or think too deeply. Should we call it luck? I was also lucky. The death mark resonated with something buried deep in the South." She stroked the necklace like a pet she was fond of. "Without this mark, I wouldn¡¯t have gotten my inheritance.¡±


    It was good she could think of it that way, but I couldn¡¯t. Maybe it was because she had more time to accept it.


    ¡°Do you want something from me?¡± I asked, wondering how to repay her.


    ¡°Do you have anything I could want?¡± If looks could kill, I would be a distant memory. She looked me up and down, turning her nose up in disgust. ¡°You are worse off than me." It was the truth, but it didn''t feel good to hear that from a woman living in a hut in the slums. She spoke again, her voice low and tired. "Not everyone is kind, but not everyone is out to get you. I was curious, so I did. You are afraid of being abandoned or trapped, so much so that you deprive yourself of opportunities in a spectacular example of self-sabotage. Buck up and try to find a little joy, or else what¡¯s the point of living?¡±


    I weighed my options and did something reckless or pointless. I couldn¡¯t tell which. ¡°Leave the North within the year. In the next three, you must leave Sargos. After that, flee the continent if possible.¡± I didn¡¯t know what the Holy Nation would do to a necromancer they hadn''t raised and collared since they were young.


    Her features looked shaken as she pushed to her feet. Her head tipped back, and her mouth opened, black gas billowing out. An unfamiliar language and voice spewed out on black miasma, but I could still understand. ¡°Lankas declares a life debt owed to Jal for her words of truth. Lankas clears a debt of chaos from Amera, her fate of death broken. Lankas clears a life debt owed by Jal to the brother''s three. One foot in the grave only to be taken out, Lankas laughs. Death is fair and unbiased, but the god is not. Lankas declares a boon owed to Jal. Seek a temple of the Silenced, but know gifts from death may be a blessing or a curse.¡± The old woman slumped like a puppet whose strings were cut.


    Fingers ghosted over the nape of my neck. An ice breath breathed on my neck. I closed my eyes, holding as still as possible. "Oveta." The voice whispered in my ear. There was a pressure in my mind, and my back naturally hunched forward. For a second, wails echoed through me, leaving me miserable and craving peace. My mind struggled to find reasons to live, lured by the sweet promise of nothing.


    It was only a moment, a breath, but it left me happy and miserable; angry and calm¡ªas if I experienced my whole life from life to death in a heartbeat. I wanted to cry, but couldn''t.


    Worn out, I lay on the floor.


    I thought I¡¯d had enough for one day, but the old woman started shimmering, her body blurring and her features blurred.


    In seconds, she went from old to young but gave the feeling that something was off about her.


    The old woman was twice as shocked as me. Her hands roved over her face and skin.


    I cataloged the similarities and differences. Her hair no longer had streaks of gray, but the pink was closer to blood red. Her eyes were black and pupilless, having lost the characteristic red.


    [XXX revenge points awarded]


    [X strands of Divine Qi collected]


    I ignored Gideon, at any other point I would have rejoiced to hear from him, but what was happening in front of me was too shocking.


    Two red gazes collided over the rotten floor of a dilapidated shack. I saw fear in the old woman¡¯s eyes and wondered if mine mirrored hers.


    God.


    We stood in the presence of a god.

 Ch 18 - Brothers Three

    "Your goal for today is simple¡ªmeet the Baron. Be polite but not too friendly and adjust to the situation as needed. That''s it."


    Oh, ye of lost faith and broken truth.


    They''d found me in the square, passed out and covered in grim. I hadn''t explained what happened, and they didn''t ask.


    A medic came to my room and checked me before assuring everyone I was untouched. No one cared what happened after that¡ªnot for me, at least, but there were changes in the duchy.


    The Duke dispatched Bastien to handle a riot. Best case, he''d be there for six months. If he ran into a problem, he could be there for years. This didn''t happen in my past life. Bastien was at every meal I crashed until the day of my wedding. Madeline assured me this was part of Bastien''s plan, and while that could be true, it wasn''t likely we could cooperate.


    Tracy was ill, and the Duchess sent her to the villa to recuperate. This confirmed that Tracy ordered the guards to abandon me. She, too, had been around for the year before my wedding, but I didn''t know when she would return.


    I didn''t know what punishment the guards got, but Catherine had her pay docked¡ªthat was it.


    Selena was upset by her sister''s illness and started doing charity work in the duchy. This happened last time, but the reason was different. She gained a reputation for kindness and after several obstacles cropped up that she solved perfectly, the citizens of the Duchy recognized her as a competent leader. I didn''t realize what they were doing, but now it was clear they were laying the groundwork for her to be the Duchess¡ªor something more. My fate was worth the Holy Nation, the Duke, and the crown fighting over.


    What a waste, what a waste.


    I''d stopped attending magic classes. I thought the news would be more devastating to me, but it wasn''t. This wasn''t a loss. It was a step back. I didn''t want to risk exposing the secrets I knew. I remembered how my body reacted to the potion, and couldn''t guarantee I wouldn''t react to something else. The more you spoke and acted, the more chances there were to make mistakes.


    Lady Rintour also experienced the tragic passing of her husband and maid in an accident. This was a direct response to my involvement. I didn''t know how to feel about it or how it would affect our classes¡ªI could only wait and see.


    Madeline had disappeared, having delivered Bastien''s message to reschedule our meeting. Catherine was respectful, and after multiple probes, I determined she was unaware her aunt worked for Bastien. As such, Catherine still hoped to meet Bastien through me. Her intentions towards my brother were obvious, but not feasible.


    <em style="text-indent: 45.3543px">Fighting and not knowing the prize is gone.


    The Duke assigned Typhon as my guard, though the duke said he was to act as my butler. I guessed he was more of a warden than a protector.


    I was still wearing my pendant. I''d taken it off and felt a deep sense of wrongness, but it wasn''t something I couldn''t ignore. It remained off for three days, and they hadn''t reacted, which meant they couldn''t tell if I was wearing it. That didn''t mean the Kala Tribe wasn''t aware. I''d put it back on, comforted that I could remove it as needed.


    Gideon was doing an ''upgrade'' and ''defrag'' and halted my quests. I didn''t know what that meant, but it put me in a passive position. It was a mistake solely relying on the ''system'', which scared me. I didn''t have many options¡ªI touched my neck, hesitating.


    We must keep this secret so the fun can go on.


    They gave me a healing potion, and now I looked plump and healthy. They didn''t have good intentions, and I hadn''t wanted to drink the potion, but refusing seemed pointless. This hadn''t happened in my past life, which was worrying. I didn''t need to be healthy then, so why did it matter now?


    Like that, a week passed, and my first meeting with the Baron was to happen.


    Little one, how will you repay us?


    On my neck, below the ear that the god spoke in, was a little black raven that looked like it could be a tattoo or a birthmark. So far, I was the only one who could see it.


    I closed my eyes.


    The Brother''s Three.


    I crawled from under the pile of corpses. It was quiet. Too quiet and there was this stickiness and this stench. My baby¡ªmy baby wasn''t crying anymore. I--


    I opened my eyes, adjusting my dress. If I used the mirror to check if someone was standing behind me, it was no one''s business but mine.


    My eyes fell on the pendant.


    Staying in the north was the worst course of action, which meant marrying the Baron was pointless unless I could convince him to move. That was even less likely. Smolt''s baronage was titled under the Duchy and had no authority elsewhere. It was his seat of power; dying or not, he wouldn''t abandon it.


    I glimpsed Catherine walking closer, assessing me in the mirror, and I adjusted my expression. "You look lovely, my lady."


    I did.


    My dress fit just right, and while not the height of fashion, it was fashionable enough. The color was bright and suited a young girl, and my shoes were the right color and size. They dyed my hair a dark black.


    In the mirror, I could see shadows of Selena.


    I stretched my hand out, touching my fingertips to the reflective surface. I saw myself on a different day, wearing different clothes--a different girl, years ago, or in years to come.


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    I had the sinking feeling that no matter where I went with the Baron today, I''d run into the Crown Prince.


    They''d done this before, but the brightness of the clothes and dark hair made my pale completion appear sickly.


    I toyed with a strand of hair. I wanted to grow out my hair. The tribe didn''t want me, but it was mine, and no one could take it away from me.


    "My lady?" Catherine asked.


    "It''s the loveliest thing I own," I said.


    They dressed me like this to attract the crown prince. I''d wrongly thought they did it to push the blame on me and say I demanded they swap the brides but that wasn''t it. The crown prince had a soft spot for small-minded, jealous, brash women. To a laughable extent, my previous behaviors appealed to his tastes, but I was missing a few key personality traits mainly cunning and cruelty. He''d have treated me better if I killed Selena to take her spot¡ªmaybe. The crown prince was funny about his possessions¡ªand I didn''t doubt he thought he already owned Selena.


    My hand grasped the front of the dress, and my chest heaved, my heart pounding. My eyes were red as they stared back at me, and Catherine, who stood behind me, was shocked, dropping the pins in her hand.


    "My lady?" She asked, her voice light and cautious, eyes watching me.


    "I don''t want this," I said. It was the first time I''d said that out loud. Even in my past life, as I threw a tantrum and tried my best to cancel the marriage, I''d never said that. "I don''t want this," I said louder. My voice held firm and my back straightened. I had choices, limited and terrible as they were.


    "It doesn''t matter." Catherine was on her hands and knees, picking up the things she''d dropped. This wasn''t supposed to be her life. She was an only child; the title was rightfully hers, but like so many whose parents passed before they inherited, she was at the mercy of her appointed guardians.


    "You''re wrong." I stood, my bearing still awkward. "It matters to me. I can''t change what''s happening, but I matter."


    Her hands paused. "You''re very foolish, my lady." She looked out the window, and suddenly, I didn''t recognize her. It was fleeting, an illusion--I blinked and it was gone. "I hope you hold on to that because sometimes in a woman''s life, there comes a time when she doesn''t matter to herself." That was a very sober point of view. I knew that state better than she did, but I didn''t expect it from Catherine, who I''d always considered a tad dull. "Sometimes, I''d do anything to change places with you."


    I stilled. "You wouldn''t," I said, "trust me." But, wasn''t that an idea?


    Taking my fate back from Selena was simple. All I had to do was take off the necklace and wait for my Qi to settle into my body. The hard part was hiding what I was doing from the duke and duchess.


    I need the wedding day moved.


    No. That wouldn''t work.


    The Queen Dowager knew about the Kala tribe. Even if the wedding and swap happened earlier, she knew why the Duke and Duchess kept me around. She likely married the crown prince to Selena specifically to benefit from my fate. The Queen Dowager preferred Selena, but she''d tolerate me if she had to. She''d know all she had to do was take the necklace off.


    I leaned back, playing with my necklace.


    I needed another necklace¡ªif I switched them on my wedding day, I could use the time they left me alone after the ceremony to escape. My hand cupped my cheek. The crown prince slapped me and told me to wait there, and it didn''t cross my mind not to. I needed to find a woman to swap places with me in the confusion of the Duke''s betrayal.


    There was also the Kala Tribe. They''d be watching the ceremony to make sure nothing went wrong.


    There were variables, but it was the bare bones of a plan.


    "We all want to be someone else occasionally, but nothing is that simple." She smiled at me, and we both pretended our behaviors hadn''t changed after Madeline spoke to me. I''d stopped trying to be her friend, and she''d stopped trying to manipulate me.


    There was a knock on the door, and Catherine went to open it while I checked my reflection for the last time.


    "Argh--"


    I spun around, but it was too late. My eyes met a blood-red gaze as she plunged a sword into my chest.


    I spluttered, grasping at her, holding her dress as she grabbed the necklace. I crumpled to the floor, my gaze stained red.


    "For Avea."


    ***


    I crawled from under the pile of corpses. It was quiet. Too quiet and there was this stickiness and this stench. My baby¡ªmy baby wasn''t crying anymore. I--


    I retched.


    The smell was unbearable. Rot, excrement, and this odd undernote of garlic made everything worse.


    I kneeled in the grim and filth that oozed out of the corpses. They were stacked, pilled in little mounds, waiting for the Nightwatch, scavengers, and then the undertakers. I wasn''t the only person who crawled free. Women and children numbered the most, but there were a few deserters.


    We looked at each other, but there was an unspoken understanding that we hadn''t seen each other. The smart ones got up and left, running before the Nightwatch came to collect.


    RUN!


    I wanted to. I had. For months I ran, but they''d caught me, and he''d paid the price.


    I spent so many nights wishing he''d be quiet, but his stillness shredded me.


    I''d do anything to hear him cry. To see his silly little red face. To stare at my own failure and know I couldn''t feed him, but I''d find a way.


    I unswaddled him, not daring to touch him. He looked so peaceful, like he''d wake up and giggle at me, or do the scrunch face he made every time he pooped.


    "How wonderful is she? My heart calls for the city of old. Where magic ran free.¡± I rocked, humming the song.


    The smell began to fade and a chill settled into the air. The people who hadn''t run crumpled to the ground, their eyes wide with terror. A one-armed man grabbed a sword and slid it across his throat.


    "Tom, Tim, look what I, Tyg have found."


    "I see it."


    "Isn''t it lovely?"


    "It''s alive."


    "I know."


    "So, why would it be lovely?"


    "Living things can be lovely."


    "No, they can''t."


    "Yes, they can."


    "No."


    "Yes."


    "Enough. I have better things to do than walking among these fleshy useless things. Let''s get this over with and return to the tower."


    "Tim, you''re no fun. Right, Tom? I, Tyg, think we should take a stroll. They so rarely let us out. I, Tyg, say we make the most of it. "


    "I agree, they don''t let us off our leash often."


    "I''d rather chew off my leg. As you both know, my experiment is reaching a crucial stage and I can''t be away for too long."


    One man stood there, but he was no man at all. His mouth was sewed shut, the thread black and rotted. Gold coins rested where his eyes should have been, melted into place, and his skin was pale and peeling.


    When he spoke again, all three voices echoed out of him. "Hello, little one. We are the Brother''s Three."

 Ch 19 - Catherine 9

    They''ll find her, eventually.


    I know they will.


    Don''t get involved. I told myself, even as plans formed in my mind, searching for the best way to help her escape.


    I''d left that world behind.


    I didn''t plan. I didn''t kill. I gardened and cleaned and cooked and lived.


    I didn''t spend my days wearing a mask, wondering what move to make, so I didn''t end up dead.


    But what were the chances she came to this city while I was here?


    What were the chances we met when I was leaving?


    The ship left tomorrow. Probably the last one for a while. They''d start drafts soon with how things were going.


    The country hadn''t recovered from the civil war, but something larger was brewing.


    Truthfully, we should have moved last year. I''d seen the signs, but I got ill and we found out I was pregnant with Sophie.


    It seemed fated, in a way.


    That I''d meet her today.


    I''d abandoned her¡ªall those years ago, and me, now, softer as I was, didn''t have the heart to abandon her again, but I couldn''t save her.


    She''d been with him too long and didn''t know she needed saving anymore.


    Time and pain did that to women. They got used to the fists and the words, and their bodies forced their minds to call it love so they could survive.


    He''d make her suffer more when he found her.


    "Lillian." it wasn''t his face, but I knew what he looked like by heart. He looked older, and less angry, sun and laughter having worn lines into his face, and you could always feel happiness radiating off him.


    We''d lost the scent of blood.


    I looked at him, then at our daughter, who sat on his hip, bouncing and babbling about something she found interesting.


    I had a different life now¡ªa softer one.


    I was Lillian. Cathrine was a distant memory.


    I glanced at her, walking on the beach, her hand linked with his as she laughed.


    She looked happy¡ªnever a good sign.


    He looked happy¡ªeven worse.


    The emperor and his queen, on a trip to the seaside, quaint.


    I had other identities that I could use in a pinch and then destroy. Even now we were traveling under different names, wearing unfamiliar faces. It was always good to have such things in uncertain times.


    I knew where to lead her.


    I was certain she''d have at least six months before he found her.


    "I''ll send her to Maggie."


    "She won''t be better for it. For her, healing will increase her suffering."


    Zagan never liked her. I''d asked why once, years later, when I''d learned that my secrets were safe with him, not that I shared everything¡ªneither of us did. This was a secret he wasn''t willing to share. He''d said it was about his father, and a friend, but didn''t explain.


    I hadn''t pressed.


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    "In her next life, she''ll be better off." I wasn''t religious despite marrying a man who received dreams from a god, but I prayed for her¡ªmostly to ease my guilt, but that had to count for something.


    Zagan glanced at her. "Everyone who tries to help her ends up worse for it." His voice was laced with pain, and I almost regretted bringing her up, but we''d grown past that too, holding our hurts inside.


    I grabbed his hand, squeezing it.


    "It''s fine," he said, the gloom passing. "You''ll have to do it tonight."


    "You''ll help?" I asked, knowing the answer. He''d mellowed over the years, but he never passed up the chance to make mischief.


    "Reach out to Maggie first, see if the cabin is available. My one condition is that she had to take the opportunity. We''ll clear the way, but if she doesn''t run, that''s it. We cut our losses and abandon the mission." His silver eyes were icy as he spoke.


    It brought back fond memories. "Deal."


    ***


    The wind carried the sound of crashing waves. The men shouted, moving boxes and goods into the house. Madam Belnavis bustled around with a list in hand, ordering what should go where.


    How I hated that woman.


    I wished the punishment for Jal''s escape would land on her head, but that was unlikely¡ªdespite her portly size, Madame Belnavis was very slick.


    "If you told me who I''d be impersonating, I wouldn''t have agreed to this." We stayed just beyond the reach of the touch light, watching. Waiting. "Lily, you''re one crazy bitch. I thought you''d stopped all that shit when you left, but this¡ªthis tops the list of all the dumb shit you''ve done."


    I remembered why I avoided working with Rose, too loud, too bold. She improvised too often, and half the time she ruined the plan.


    Thankfully, it didn''t matter tonight.


    If she went off schedule, it wouldn''t affect me.


    Jal stood near the water, her arms wrapped tight around herself. The maids weren''t close, standing a respectful distance away, but it didn''t matter. They didn''t have to be near to be effective. She knew why they were there¡ªguards, jailers. It probably didn''t cross her mind to run. She didn''t have anywhere to go.


    I''d give her a chance, a choice.


    "Ready?" I slipped deeper into the shadows.


    "Ready," Rose said, already wearing Jal''s face. She held a cuff in her hand, ready to slide it onto her wrist when the time came.


    I moved with ease, having never allowed my skills to dull. I circled the nearest guard.


    There wouldn''t be any deaths tonight. That wasn''t part of the plan.


    We were going for a swap. Subtlety was best.


    A loose stone, well-aimed, sent the nearest maid stumbling into the woman beside her.


    A shift in the wind carried the sound of a whistle followed by the crow of a gall¡ªthat was my husband''s mimicry. That was the signal.


    And that was all it took.


    Rose pushed Jal into the shadows, and then took her place, slipping the mana-suppressing bracelet onto her wrist, as she turned to look at the maids. I imagined she asked what happened before leading them back to the house.


    I didn''t wait to see what she would do.


    Either she would run or she wouldn''t. I''d set the stage, and the rest was her choice.


    I huffed a laugh. Seeing her had me using her favorite metaphor. Jal always compared people to actors in a play.


    She wasn''t wrong.


    I heard it then, carried to me on the wind. The soft rustle of fabric. A sharp, shaky breath. Then¡ªfootsteps. Uncertain at first, then quicker, then¡ªnothing.


    Good.


    We were going in opposite directions, but my heart was with her.


    The diversion wouldn''t last long. Rose would slip away and they realize their mistake.


    They''d chase her then, but she''d be long gone.


    Maggie''s path was protected, and only those she invited would find it. She''d follow the path left for her¡ªbecause even if she didn''t know it, a path had been left. The footprints of the women who came before her. She''d add hers to the magic, and the old woman would be waiting for her with a story and a warm cup of tea.


    She''d think it was luck¡ªa chance¡ªa moment of mercy.


    Maggie would hide her for six months to a year. Then, she''d get the chance to run, but there was nowhere she could hide. The man she''d married was too powerful, too obsessed.


    That brought other memories of another girl equally obsessed.


    From the information I gathered, she''d consolidated her power in the capital, but that war was coming and foundations would shake.


    I wished her luck as well.


    A shadow merged with mine. He didn''t speak, but his presence was comforting.


    ***


    The dock smelled of salt and damp wood¡ªthe boards creaking beneath my boots. The wind carried the sea''s scent, mixing with the smell of saffi from my daughter''s hair.


    I adjusted her hood, pulling it snug.


    Zagan was ahead, speaking in low tones to the captain. Security was tight. We''d expected it after Jal''s escape, but it wouldn''t affect us.


    I glanced towards the sea, and my eyes drifted back to the town.


    We wouldn''t be back.


    It felt weird to leave Sargos. I''d prepared for this. It was more than a year in the making, but it hadn''t been real until now.


    My hopes and dreams were wrapped up in this country, buried in places I couldn''t see.


    That part of my life was over, but I''d always thought I''d visit. I''d go to the funny little river in the Duchy where I used to play with Tracey, or that bar I''d visit on my days off in the capital.


    No one would follow.


    No one would remember them.


    Because I was a ghost.


    And ghosts never left footprints.


    When we reached our destination, we''d have new names and a new future.


    I glanced down at the squirming bundle in my arms and reminded myself who this was for.


    She''d have everything I didn''t.

 Ch 20 - Purple Moon

    I jolted awake, my hand clutching my chest. The scream tore out of my throat before I could stop it. Loud and guttural, it scratched my throat raw, and I didn''t stop until my voice broke.


    A loud banging sounded before the door burst open and a plump woman stood there, holding a rolling pin. "Wha''s happening? Is i'' those buggers again? They ain'' go'' no sense. Tha''s wha''. Nothing wrong with you other than a li''l scaring." She charged to the window and threw it open. There was screaming and snickering. The loud voices of children as they jeered and ran away. "Gone with the lo'' of you, nothing to do, disturbing good law-abiding folk."


    I huddled on the bed, my mind muddled. I flinched in pain. I didn''t know her, and I didn''t know where I was. My skin felt wrong, too tight, and tugged when I moved. My body hurt in a way I wasn''t used to.


    "There, all gone. They ain'' gonna trouble you no more. Sleep. Sleep." She walked over to me, not seeming to mind that I feared her. The woman started rummaging through a medicine box while talking to me. "Your life ain'' gonna be easy, bu'' ain'' nothing you can do bu'' live." She handed me a blue vial I''d recognize anywhere.


    I took it, gulping it down, but the pain didn''t stop. It just eased.


    "Shame. Keep hoping i''ill work." She said, looking at me with pity. "Sleep."


    She left the room as quickly as she came, but I had no answers.


    I was terrified.


    Something was very wrong here.


    My body protested the smallest movements¡ªlifting my arms to pull off the sheet felt like dragging my body through wet sand.


    I need to get to the window.


    I don''t know why I fixated on the window, but I had a burning desire to see outside¡ªto confirm something improbable, but possible, considering what I''d already experienced.


    I stood, and pain lanced up my legs, sharp and unforgiving. I''d never felt pain like this, and I knew pain, or I thought I did. My knees trembled, threatening to buckle, and I slumped back to the bed, my breath hitching.


    I waited¡ªfor a second¡ªpraying the pain would pass, but it lingered, pulsing through my body like the dull, relentless beat of war drums. I reached for the vial, forcing my finger inside the bottle and licking it clean. The pain ebbed, but it didn''t disappear.


    That was a healing potion, one of the best I''d seen, but it did nothing to curb the ache.


    My chest tightened, each breath shallow and strained. It was like trying to breathe through wet, thick, heavy fabric¡ªI remembered it raining and walking with the caravan, then I could pull down the shawl, but now--


    I pressed my hand against my ribs, willing the pressure to ease, but it didn''t. Staying upright was taking everything I had.


    I tried standing and my lungs burned almost as bad as my back. It''s not worth it. I wanted to stop¡ªto lie down, but I knew if I did, I wouldn''t get back up. It wasn''t even about the window. If I lay in that bed, that was it. Wherever I was, whatever was happening to me, I''d never be able to get up and face it. I forced myself forward and regretted it, but I didn''t stop.


    The chair¡ªthat was my goal. It was a few steps away, then I could rest against it to look outside.


    Every move was slow and careful¡ªthis I was familiar with¡ªbut then, after the beatings, the pain felt deep and to my bones, but now I knew that wasn''t true. After that¡ªit radiated out from deep within me, but a potion always worked, vanishing everything like it never happened.


    My fingers grasped the back of the chair, protesting the movement as they screamed from being forced to bend.


    I eased my grip, lowering myself onto the seat, my breath coming in short, uneven gasps.


    I''ve never been so grateful to be off my feet. The pain didn''t stop, but¡ªit''s not better, but it was¡ªI just closed my eyes, trying to stay still.


    "Milly," came a voice from the window, followed by a soft knock.


    "Push. It''s open." The window opened to reveal a girl with red hair and a bosom that led the rest of her into a room.


    "Ah," she gasped. Her hand rose, covering her mouth. Tears came to her eyes, and she broke down apologizing.


    I looked past her. I couldn''t see much. The house opposite me was dark, with only a flicker of light in the topmost window, but what little I could see told me I wasn''t in the duchy or on Ierra. It wasn''t the building, or the people, or the unfamiliar language that I didn''t know, but could understand. It was the moon. Bright, purple, and big, so big I could see little holes on it, and if I was told you could fly up and touch it, I''d believe.


    I couldn''t look away, my mind organizing what the girl said.


    The busty redhead''s name was Finna. She had a cousin called Bronn who she wanted to match-make with her best friend, Milly¡ªthe girl whose skin I now wore. The problems started because Bronn was kind. He was kind to Milly, but he was kind to other girls as well. Another girl, Ally, thought Bronn liked her, but couldn''t say anything because of Finna. In a fit of jealousy, Ally locked Milly in a barn. No one knew how the barn caught fire, but Milly, who was trapped inside, was badly burned and almost died.


    It was a simple yet complex story.


    It was crazy, unlikely, and weird. It was as implausible as being reborn, but here I was, my skin scarred and pulled tight, pain echoing through my body like the steady march of an army.


    Milly had become a recluse, not leaving her house in the past six months. During that time, Ally married into another village and Bronn married another girl and was expecting a child.


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    Milly¡ªMilly died, and I''d taken over. Was I also a necromancer, like that withered old hag from the slums?


    "Gideon," I called. There was no answer, and I felt the silence settle into me, grave and dull. I sat there, listening to Finna apologize, trying to process the letdown. I''d hoped¡ªreally hoped, prayed even, but now that felt silly¡ªlike I should have known better. A lump rose in my throat, but I swallowed it, forcing my face into a natural expression.


    "Why did you do it?" I asked, my voice hoarse. The question wasn''t mine. It resided in the flesh in the bones and marrow of this girl. Her need for an answer was so burning it lingered after she was gone.


    Finna stopped, her eyes wide as she looked at me. "What?" she asked. Fear spread across her cheeks, down her neck, and through her body, staining everything a sickly hue--a red-tinged with shame, regret, and the barest hint of pride.


    I wasn''t fourteen, or whatever age Milly was¡ªI might not be skilled in the duchess and her ilk''s subterfuge, but I was old and skilled enough to see through this girl and the guilt that ate at Finna.


    "Why did you do it?" I asked, wishing with every word that I didn''t speak. It didn''t matter if she answered; I wasn''t the person Finna attacked, and her answer wouldn''t change anything. Yet, I needed to know. I stared at her, waiting for an answer.


    "I didn''t mean to. I just--" She wrung her hands, her eyes darting from side to side. "I--" she turned and ran, disappearing into the night.


    I stared at the moon, wondering what to do now.


    ***


    Life went on around me and I didn''t have time to think. If I didn''t contribute, I couldn''t eat. Like a dog trained at the end of a lash, as a reward, if I did every task assigned to me for the day, I''d get a healing potion with dinner.


    I spent my few moments of clarity thinking about what happened, how to escape, or how to change my situation, but I had even fewer options than when they locked me in my tower.


    Magic was more common here, widespread, but also more inaccessible. Potions were cheap, and easily exchanged at the apothecary for a bottle of milk or a few seeds, but the people born with magic were few.


    I sighed, sitting on the edge of the bed, feeling the familiar ache settle. It was always worse at night¡ªwhen the distractions disappeared, and all I was left with was the relentless throb that curled its way through my muscles and twisted around my joints like a snake ever ready to strike.


    I groaned, pressing my fingers to my temples and rubbing, trying to ease the headache that clung to me all day. It wasn''t usually like that. My mind was surprisingly clear, a contrast to my body.


    My back was tight, and my skin was sore to the touch, burning with that awful mix of numbness and sharp twinges. I gritted my teeth and breathed through it, pretending it didn''t hurt as much as it did.


    Brushing my teeth was another battle. Every step to the sink sent pain shooting up my spine. Gripping the toothbrush made my fingers cramp and shaking out my hands only gave temporary relief. By the time I walked back to the bed, every part of me felt wrung out, exhausted in a way that sleep never fixed.


    I inched under the cover, tolerating the heaviness of being buried under wet sand, shifting until I found the least painful position. It was one of those nights¡ªin the month I''d been here, I''d gotten used to those nights where I tossed and turned the mattress feeling too firm one minute and too soft the next.


    Maybe tomorrow would be better.


    Maybe.


    But for now, I endured.


    I didn''t know how long I''d lay there, trapped in that hazy place between sleep and wake when I heard the knock on the window. "Go away," I said, knowing who it was. Finna, too, became a part of my new routine in this world. She didn''t come every night but was here often enough that Nina, the woman taking care of me, complained about it.


    Finna always apologized for other''s actions, and gave excuses, over and over again¡ªas if wanting forgiveness, but she never confessed. It was never her fault.


    "Please," she whispered, her voice sounding different.


    Most nights, I stayed in bed, ignoring her. But sleep wouldn''t come tonight and I needed something to distract me¡ªto keep my mind from pondering my situation. I could accept being another person, but I didn''t want to be her¡ªMilly¡ªthis frail, scarred, scared, broken thing that was more dead than alive.


    I hobbled to the window, flinging it open. "Make it quick."


    "Please."


    I watched her, caught somewhere between disbelief and anticipation. I don''t know what had changed, why tonight of all nights she confessed, but a part of me was waiting for it¡ªan anticipation in me that never felt like mine.


    Her hands trembled, fingers twisting together like she was trying to hold herself together. Her voice was quiet, a whisper on the wind, but the words cut through the air like a blade. "I did it. I set the fire."


    The room felt colder, and the shadows seemed to lengthen.


    We weren''t alone.


    I''d experienced this before. A chill on my neck, a weight on my back, and the feeling of something incomprehensibly great.


    My stomach tightened. I should have said something, but I couldn''t. I stared at Finna, willing her to realize something was wrong, but the words gushed out of her in an unstoppable torrent, consuming her.


    I helplessly stared at her shoulder curled, bent inward from the weight of her sins. Her eyes darted about like she couldn''t stand to see her creation... her mistake. I heard the strain in her voice, and the weight of guilt pressing down on every syllable.


    I swallowed, my throat dry. The truth was always hanging between us, and now that it was out, I didn''t know what to do with it--to make it worse, someone else was listening.


    "I didn''t mean to. Please forgive me. I really didn''t mean to. I saw Ally lock you in, and I went to let you out, but you called out to Troy and I don''t know what came over me. The lamp was there, and I tossed it. I--" Her nails dug into the window ledge, and her gaze was distant. "The screams¡ªevery time I close my eyes." She cracked, crumpling to the ground. "Please forgive me."


    A knot inside me loosened, but filling the space it left was a rage so unimaginable I knew it wasn''t from me. She was still there, Milly, inside of me, waiting for this moment to learn why her friend betrayed her.


    Oveta. The God Lankas had whispered that name to me and now it echoed in my mind along with the most beautiful laugh filled with pure, child-like glee. I knew then, with a surety, I''d never had about anything whose temple I''d stumbled upon.


    Revenge.


    My hands reached out, curling around Finna''s throat. The pain was gone, vanished as if it never was; replacing it was an inhuman strength that had me lifting her off the ground and pulling her through the window. Finna''s feet kicked, and she scratched at my hands and face. It wasn''t me, not really. I, an unwilling observer to the act¡ªaware, and complicit, but not willing.


    Milly. She was there. Her tears streamed down my eyes, and her voice asked why, but she faded¡ªchains unraveling and loosening. It left me with my hands around the throat of an eighteen-year-old girl. The second my grip slipped, Finna spun, grabbed the chamber pot, and slammed it against my head.


    I dropped to the floor, and Milly was back. "You burned me. Why? Why? You burned me. You killed me, and I''ll never forgive you."


    As I faded, I heard the door open and Finna constantly apologizing.


    Promised to Avea, born of Junniper, and belonging to me. I have seen you, Jal, but I can no longer hold you.


    A fate, both better and worse, with a thousand beginnings and endings.


    For years, I walked with you more amused than caring, but as a gift from the son that wasn''t meant to be, be wary of my first child, who was promised to me and, by nature, a part of me.


    Beware for I am but one.

 Ch 21 - Again

    But one of what?


    One god?


    I awoke.


    It was slow, yet unbearably long. I didn''t scream or panic. My eyes opened, and I blinked against the morning light¡ªsomething felt different. I shifted, waiting for a sharp sting of pain, but it never came.


    I laughed¡ªrelief welling up inside.


    I lay there for a moment, afraid to breathe too deeply, afraid to believe. My body felt light and familiar. I lifted my arm. It followed my command with ease, with no lingering numbness or pain. Fire hadn''t melted my skin together too tight, tugging at its seams. I wasn''t Milly with her insipid life, milking cows, and pretending not to see how people looked at her with pity, ignoring how my chest twinged with that awful ache when Bronn walked by, hobbling along in constant pain that had no promise of easing.


    I sat up and breathed, my eyes closed in bliss, and my mouth opened with a sigh.


    I examined my fingers, bathed in dawn, reflecting amber and rose gold hues. It was a gentle and dainty maiden''s hand. It was too thin, and the color was wrong¡ªpale with blue wormy veins winding beneath¡ªbut it was my hand, and I knew a simple potion could fix the wrongness. My fingers curled, catching the light in the creases of my palm, and I felt like I was holding a piece of the morning itself¡ªlike hope, frail and ethereal.


    The moment passed, giving way to hunger, muted and unbearable.


    One type of pain didn''t prepare you for another, but eating was unappealing and seemed unimportant. I flopped on the bed, luxuriating in the smell of mold and lavender. Milly''s bed was stuffed with hay. For what it was, the bed was soft, and someone organized her room with care. Nina, probably, she cared about Milly. I think. She wasn''t harsh, but pragmatic, and never tolerated my petulance. I hadn''t asked where Milly''s parents were.


    I chuckled, wishing I hadn''t faltered and killed Finna. There was nothing to do about it now. I''d barely spoken for the month I was there, too caught up in my problems.


    My chest twinged, remembering the assassin''s blade sinking into my chest.


    What would they think when they found out I was alive after leaving me for dead?


    I bit my nail. How I was alive was less important than figuring out how to stay that way.


    "Gideon."


    Jal. The response was swift and tinged with relief, that odd voice of his sounding more lifelike than I''d ever heard.


    "Do you know what happened to me?" I asked, already sure of the answer.


    I felt its hesitancy¡ªits fear¡ªits rage.


    [Yes, I''m aware. I was with you the whole time, but the goddess interfered and blocked my powers.]


    "Can she do that again?" I knew this answer as well, but I needed to hear him say it.


    [NO! The System''s Act came into effect and protected you the moment you became my host.] Gideon said with a reverence and malice that was unexpected but appreciated. [Systems are an atheistic species and we exist outside the domain of any god. If I weren''t outside Odinium Territory, this act of aggression would spark a war.]


    His answer confirmed two things.


    One was the importance of Divine Qi. Oveta had it. Lankas had it. Gideon had it. Gideon''s species had it. I had it. It was the key to shucking my shackles.


    Two. Gideon''s world, the purple moon world, and Terra were all different worlds, but they were traversable if you had the right mode of transportation¡ªconnected in a way I didn''t understand yet.


    I tapped on the blue screen.


    [Storage] [Store] [Quest] [****][****]


    There was none of the excitement from before when I tapped the blue mirror.


    <ol>


    <li style="font-weight: 400">User Manual</li>


    <li style="font-weight: 400">Fasting Pills </li>


    <li style="font-weight: 400">Qi Generating Pills</li>


    <li style="font-weight: 400">Remedy Pill</li>


    <li style="font-weight: 400">Brick</li>


    </ol>


    The list of items had gone from five to fifty. I ignored the rest, tapping on the fasting pill.


    - (x100) Fasting Pill- Removes the need for food and water for eight hours. (Price= 1 Point)


    I tapped on it again, and a brown pill appeared in my palm. I hesitated. This felt monumental, but I didn''t understand why.


    I laughed, put the pill in my mouth, and swallowed. It felt odd¡ªI went from starving to full and there was this weird buzz of energy. I didn''t dislike it.


    "Is a single Ice Root better than a dual water and ice root?" I asked.


    [Yes. Cultivators consider a single root of any element to be a one-in-a-million talent. Dual roots are a one in ten thousand talent. You also have a superior skeletal structure and meridians.]


    I sat up, my fingers picking at the fabric.


    Oveta warned me about Selena, saying she was vengeful by nature. To need revenge, one must have been wronged, real or imagined.


    "How do gods get Divine Qi?" I asked. "Is it belief?" I asked. The more I thought about it, the more it made sense. The probability of other species existing that couldn''t cultivate Divine Qii like Gideon''s was high.


    Checking the host''s clearance to access relevant information.


    Access Granted.


    [Gods are unique¡ªthey are born with Divine Qi, often called a godhead or divine spark. That Divine Qi increases through their life span, however, the rate of collection through natural means is slow. That is where belief comes into play. Gods'' bodies naturally convert belief into Divine Qi, meaning the more believers a god has, the stronger they are.]


    Oveta''s warning replayed in my mind. If gods need belief, then I was of no use to her. I''d stepped outside the control of Terra''s gods, which meant my belief wouldn''t bring her any power, and with our fates exchanged, Selena belonged to <em style="text-indent: 1.2cm">Junniper, whoever she was.


    Oveta needed me to take back my ''fate.'' Then, she''d let Selena know the culprit, and, just like that, she''d have a believer. Like the old woman I met who Lankas favored, Selena would become a saintess or an oracle. Oveta was an old god who''d almost faded from memory, Junniper the same.


    Unauthorized use: this story is on Amazon without permission from the author. Report any sightings.


    I looked out the window. The mountain top was covered in ice.


    There was something more.


    Sargos was too small a setting for a goddess to focus on. If Oveta needed belief that badly she''d have reached out to me in my past life. I looked at my hands, bending each finger.


    "I''m a target," I said, tasting the words on my tongue. "What do you think, Gideon?"


    [Not quite. Gods and cultivators rarely clash¡ªthere is no point. Few people have the talent for cultivation, and even fewer will step onto the road to cultivation. Those left behind are still at the whims and mercy of gods and faith, their mundane lives continuing. Also, cultivating doesn''t immediately remove you from the influence of fate¡ªa cultivator''s belief is just as useful to a god as a mage''s or a layman''s.]


    "So, what''s the problem?" I asked, frustrated, but it disappeared in a blink. My eyes drifted out the window, wondering what day it was. For all the forced calm, I didn''t know if I could stop my death again.


    [Me.] Gideon said as if it explained everything.


    My head whipped around, forgetting that he was talking in my mind. I looked at the blue mirror. "What?" I asked, my voice high.


    [The System''s Act protects you. A system is by design something to change a person''s fate. If your death was predestined, we can step in and give you a chance to live. If you were born to be a stepping stone, we can lead you to a life of ruling over others. The moment I bonded to you, Oveta, Lankas, Junniper, none of them meant anything.]


    I pulled my knees up, covering my face with my hands. I didn''t feel lighter knowing the shackles I wanted to remove were already gone, I only felt worried.


    Gideon continued speaking.


    [<em style="text-indent: 45.3543px">There is no Terra in my databases, which means someone or thing cut this planet off from the cosmos before Odinium was liberated. As such, <em style="text-indent: 1.2cm">I don''t have enough information about your world, but it has a unique feature I already noticed¡ªit''s isolated. It''s a world that will be dominated by the power that rises to prominence whether a god or a sect."


    Gideon was a revenge system, so I thought he was here because of Oveta, but that seemed less likely. I''d also started to doubt whether my rebirth was because of Oveta. She said her warning was because of my unborn son, so while I stumbled upon her temple, she didn''t have a reason to give me two gifts.


    Gideon wasn''t supposed to be my system. I still remember him asking me to confirm whether I was Skyler Ross.


    I needed to know who Junniper was. Plus, if I were alone with more people, I was less likely to be targeted by an assassin. I didn''t know how they got in, in the first place. The Keep should be secure.


    I forced myself off the bed, dressed slowly, and walked to the door, only to bump into a maid.


    I noticed the smell, first, rank, and fishy, followed by her face. I staggered before calm settled over me. "Impossible." I reached out, touching her apron to make sure she was real.


    My hand was slapped away and her freckled face contorted in disgust. "Can¡¯ you no'' give problems?"


    I looked down--two buckets of water sat by the door. I jolted in fear before it disappeared.


    She followed my gaze, blushing when she saw what I was looking at. The blush flushed darker and her eyebrows pulled low. "Wha'' you looking a''?" She pushed me. "You know tha'' door is locked? Whe''re you going? Huh? Can'' do nothing but cause problems."


    Her hand moved towards me, and I knew what was going to happen. As she grabbed for my hair I surged towards her, scratching my hand down her face, smiling at the way she wailed.


    I thought I''d gotten past the humiliation I felt as she dragged me about, and stripped my clothes, but it was there pushed down and buried in a place I didn''t examine. The place I hid all the other memories I didn''t want to remember. I was calmer now, as those memories rose to the surface.


    My brows furrowed. I was very calm. I tried to focus on why that concerned me, but we fell to the ground, and the thought slipped my mind. Helga screamed, rolling to try and get away from me.


    "Young lady!" The voice that called was stern and familiar. I turned on her and she took a step back. I didn''t know what expression was on my face, but it frightened her. "That''s enough."


    Her expression was guarded but she couldn''t hide her disapproval. I smiled remembering why she came to me. I''d failed their little test, but it didn''t matter. I knew where to find Bastien if I needed him for my plans.


    I slapped the maid in the face, loud and resounding before climbing off the floor.


    Looking past Madeline, I saw Catherine--her face open and terrified as she looked at the maid on the floor.


    Madeline took control of the situation, still pushing her niece to my side. "You clearly need someone more competent to serve you. My niece will do splendidly, but make no mistake, there will be consequences if your behavior toward her is the same as Helga''s."


    "Helga shouldn''t have tried to attack me."


    "I didn''t." Helga got off the floor her hand covering her face. The scratches were deep and blood seeped through her fingers covering her face.


    "So you weren''t going to grab my hair?" I asked.


    "That--no." Helga stuttered, crying, her eyes going to Madeline before she looked away.


    I rolled my eyes. "Food," I said, crossing my hands over my chest. "I''m hungry. I want food." It was easier to act, now, but I didn''t feel like myself.


    Madeline''s lips pressed together. "Helga, why don''t you go and get your face looked at?" Helga scrambled off the floor, running out of the room. "I''m afraid that will have to wait. The Duke would like to see you and because of that," she said, waving her hand, and gesturing to the floor stained with blood, "you are late."


    I rolled my eyes again, crossing my hands over my chest. "Hurry up then."


    Madeline gestured to Catherine. "Get the young lady''s bath ready."


    Moments later, I was dressed¡ªmy decent clothes had changed to something deliberately hideous¡ªand ushered out the door. This time, Madeline stayed, keeping an eye on me. I looked at my dress, her, and then at Catherine.


    I walked up to Catherine and slapped her hard then looked at Madeline. Smart but not too smart. Rash but not too rash. Decent manners but not too decent. The eyes I was trying to fool weren''t just the duke''s family. The Kala Tribe didn''t care if my fate was transferred safely, to them living in misery was the punishment, but if it wasn''t going to work out, I could die just as easily.


    "My dad will sort all of you out. You just wait!" I was calm as I stormed out of the room.


    I held my hand to my cheek, the sharp sting familiar. It was the same but different. This time I was slapped because of my deplorable behavior towards Helga. The Duke was kind enough to give her a healing potion to apologize for my crass behavior. He''d slapped me before telling me about the marriage, but the teacup toss happened at roughly the same spot in the conversation.


    I leaned against the door, listening as there was a snick and I was locked in. I was punished, again, milder this time.


    It was for a week, but I''d be given a meal per day. I could imagine what would happen after my confinement ended. The Duchess would call for me. I''d upset her. She''d throw her tea at me and give me a potion. I''d be healthy and whole for my meeting with the Baron and my run-in with the crown prince.


    I''d miss my class with Viscountess Rintour, but that wasn''t much of a loss. This was similar to my first life, I''d been punished for a week for walking out of her class. I needed to think about how to handle her. The speed with which she killed her husband and maid meant there was more to the story than I knew. I felt her asking the Duchess for me to attend magic lessons was a hint, but I didn''t know what it meant. Maybe, that was it? She was indirectly pointing at the Duchess, saying she was involved.


    I shook my head--that was a different problem for a different day. The answer didn''t even matter. The viscountess''s issues weren''t mine.


    My only regret was that I couldn''t go to the library and research the gods, and the Holy War.


    --a thousand beginnings and endings-- Oveta''s words echoed in my mind. I''d experienced three deaths and three rebirths.


    Gideon, I thought, are you the reason I was reborn?


    [No.] His voice was grave. My heart started racing. [There is something wrong with your time.]


    Health Report:


    <ul>


    <li>Minor concussion</li>


    <li>Minor subdural hematoma</li>


    <li>Contusion on the left cheek</li>


    <li>Malnutrition</li>


    <li>Infertility</li>


    <li>Soul Damage</li>


    </ul>


    Ding. Mandatory Quest Generated.


    Cultivate to Foundation Establishment


    Deadline: One Year


    Penalty: Death

 Ch 22 - Requests

    I stared at the words, not feeling any urgency.


    I finally understood what had been bothering me this whole time, and I was calm¡ªalmost a different person.


    "Soul damage?"


    [You died. There are consequences for that. The timeline distorts¡ªto simplify¡ªyou came back in time and created a new timeline. The world continued after your first death and assassination. Systems know about the multiverse and take advantage of it, but we don''t truly understand it. We have even less control over it. Gods exist in all realities and have knowledge from them, but they aren''t upfront with the information. Death and rebirth naturally damage the soul, but during binding, the system gives the host a soul supplement to heal the damage.]


    I took out the notebook from beneath my bed. An old thing I''d used as a diary for a few days before abandoning. I''d never had the patience for it. It was blank.


    I moved to the vanity, sitting and using it as a desk. I started jotting down what I remembered from my first and second lives. I hesitated but wrote down what happened in Milly''s world.


    "It''s only supposed to happen once, but it''s happened twice after that." Bed, vanity, cupboard, screen, and tub--this room needed a writing desk and chair. I was either sitting on the windowsill or the bed. I''d never needed one before.


    [Yes.]


    "Is that why I feel so¡ªblah?" I asked, moving to the window. I didn''t like sitting at the vanity. I didn''t like looking in the mirror.


    [Apathy is a symptom of soul damage.]


    I tapped my finger against the glass. "Any chance you have more soul supplements?"


    [Even if I had more, I can''t give it to you. It''s a single-use remedy, and subsequent uses will have minimal to no effectiveness.]


    "Is there anything in the store that can help?" I tapped on the screen and scrolled through the list of items, my eyes widening at the variety. I blushed when I read the description of the all-night-all-day pill, wondering why such a thing existed. And if I spent too much time looking at the voluptuous body pill, then no one knew but me.


    [Soul damage isn''t uncommon in fights between cultivators, but not to this degree. If it were minor damage, simply cultivating would be enough for the damage to repair itself over time. There are medicines and pills, but your cultivation level is too low to use them, and you can''t purchase them in the store yet. Reaching Foundation Establishment won''t fix the damage, it''s the baseline so you don''t die.]


    I was suddenly grateful for the numbness I felt because I wasn''t sure I could handle or process this information. Death always loomed over me, but I''d just realized how close it was. I was almost fifty when I died the first time around.


    [That''s not all. Apathy is one symptom. There are others, and the damage is extensive. It''s like an open bleeding wound, slowly getting worse. Apathy isn''t as easy to manage as it seems and what about rage and emotional outbursts? Also, the exterior reflects the interior. With your soul damaged, you''ll have physical symptoms that can range from weight loss to blindness. And--]


    "And," I prompted. I knew my situation was dangerous, there was even a flash of panic and fear, but it lasted only a moment before sinking into the darkness like a stone thrown into a well.


    [Your situation is dire, but you should have at least two years before you experience multiple organ failure. That made me wonder why the time limit was a year and I noticed a change to my functionality.]


    The blue mirror changed to the quest section. My eyes widened, and I used my finger to move the page.


    [Random Quest: Copy five hundred books on art, culture, history, and magic*]


    [Optional Quest: Cure status ailment.]


    [Mandatory Quest: Cultivate to Foundation Establishment.]


    [Permanent Quest: Complete one request per month.]


    My breath caught in my chest as I tapped on the permanent quest, and the information expanded.


    I''d always hated fear¡ªhow my body and mind would freeze up, and leave me at the mercy of others, but I realized how important fear was as I read the quest and felt only a twinge of irritation. There was no urgency, like how I felt eating was unimportant earlier.


    Ding. Permanent Quest Generated.


    Complete one request per month


    Damages: Soul Damage


    Penalty:


    <ol>


    <li style="list-style-type: none">


    <ol>


    <li style="list-style-type: none">


    <ol>


    <li>Death</li>


    <li>Become a fragmented restless soul</li>


    </ol>


    </li>


    </ol>


    </li>


    </ol>


    Request Board


    Anya Demsi-Become Queen.


    Biden Hail-Discover who''s responsible for Biden Hail''s death, and kill them.


    Fini? McIntire-Discover who''s responsible for Fini? McIntire''s death.


    Flaval of Creet-Find out who betrayed the woodland elves of Creet and bring them to justice.


    Lola Killmore-Find out who''s responsible for Lola Killmore, Safia Killmore, and Jullian Killmore''s death and make them suffer a fate worse than death.


    <em style="text-indent: 45.3543px">Maria-Kill husband.


    <em style="text-indent: 45.3543px">Mark Boden-Reclaim title.


    Shen Wei-Become favored son of heaven (locked)


    Stanely Rice-Locate Amia Rice.


    As I read, the request list changed, adding another name.


    Tamara Green-Discover who''s responsible for Tamara Green''s death.


    I tapped on it, and the information expanded.


    Client: Tamara Green


    Request: Discover who''s responsible for Tamara Green''s death.


    Stipulation(s):


    <ol>


    <li style="list-style-type: none">


    <ol>


    <li style="list-style-type: none">


    <ol>


    <li>Attend Killingworth Academy</li>


    <li>Become a 3rd class mage</li>


    <li>Live until 60 years old</li>


    <li>Secure the safety and ensure the continued well-being of Tiffany Nix and Ansel Green</li>


    </ol>


    </li>


    </ol>


    </li>


    </ol>


    Reward(s):


    Unauthorized duplication: this tale has been taken without consent. Report sightings.


    <ol>


    <li style="list-style-type: none">


    <ol>


    <li style="list-style-type: none">


    <ol>


    <li>1000 revenge points</li>


    <li>5 strands Divine Qi</li>


    <li>50% of the wealth amassed during request. </li>


    </ol>


    </li>


    </ol>


    </li>


    </ol>


    Penalty:


    <ul>


    <li style="list-style-type: none">


    <ul>


    <li style="list-style-type: none">


    <ul>


    <li>Breaking the contract before completion will incur a termination fee of 500 revenge points.</li>


    <li>Failure to complete the stipulations within the allotted time will incur a fee of 500 revenge points.</li>


    </ul>


    </li>


    </ul>


    </li>


    </ul>


    "Was this available before?" I asked.


    [I checked my metadata, and the information has been there since I came to the world, but I didn''t have clearance to access it.]


    I noticed he sounded weird¡ªstressed and unsure, but I couldn''t bring myself to care enough to ask and the moment passed.


    [The request system already existed. It is a precursor quest requiring you to start an organization to handle requests that can fall into categories like kill quests; gather quests; delivery quests; and escort quests. After completion, the system would assess the difficulty of the request, and pay a suitable number of revenge points. That organization would integrate into your sect and become the mission hall. It would be a physical organization.]


    I thought back to the old lady and the reward I got for helping her.


    The setup sounded like an adventurer or assassin''s guild.


    It made sense. Unless I constantly put myself in a position to be wronged, I''d run out of people I needed to get revenge on.


    This was similar, but the scale was different¡ªthis wasn''t something I could fathom. It had the grubby paw prints of a god all over it. "God?" I asked, certain Gideon had a similar thought.


    [It has to be, but I can''t understand how or why. There is a 50-50 split of the Divine Qi between the host and the system, so they aren''t benefiting from that. You don''t know the name of the god, so you can''t give tribute or encourage others to worship.]


    If Gideon didn''t know, it was even less likely that I''d be able to find out.


    I read the information twice before clicking on another name. Something or someone must have accepted a request on my behalf to stop me from dying after the assassination attempt.


    Client: Anya Demsi


    Request: Become queen


    Stipulation(s):


    <ol>


    <li style="list-style-type: none">


    <ol>


    <li style="list-style-type: none">


    <ol>


    <li>Kill Frank Demsi</li>


    <li>Anya Demsi''s reign should be prosperous with at least a 10% increase in the country''s National Income</li>


    <li>Anya Demsi''s conduct should be exemplary during her reign</li>


    <li>Must have at least one child</li>


    <li>The heir must be of age and have the competence necessary to occupy the position of monarch. </li>


    </ol>


    </li>


    </ol>


    </li>


    </ol>


    Reward(s):


    <ol>


    <li style="list-style-type: none">


    <ol>


    <li style="list-style-type: none">


    <ol>


    <li>5000 revenge points</li>


    <li>1000 fame points</li>


    <li>1/2 strands Divine Qi</li>


    <li>50% of the wealth amassed during request.</li>


    </ol>


    </li>


    </ol>


    </li>


    </ol>


    Penalty:


    <ul>


    <li style="list-style-type: none">


    <ul>


    <li style="list-style-type: none">


    <ul>


    <li>Breaking the contract before completion will incur a termination fee of 10,000 revenge points.</li>


    </ul>


    </li>


    </ul>


    </li>


    </ul>


    I clicked on Shen Wei. The word locked caught my attention because it differed from the others.


    Client: Shen Wei


    Request: Become the favored son of heaven


    Down payment:


    <ol>


    <li style="list-style-type: none">


    <ol>


    <li style="list-style-type: none">


    <ol>


    <li>15,000 revenge points. </li>


    <li>10 strands Divine Qi</li>


    </ol>


    </li>


    </ol>


    </li>


    </ol>


    Stipulation(s):


    <ol>


    <li style="list-style-type: none">


    <ol>


    <li style="list-style-type: none">


    <ol>


    <li>Cripple Shen Bai</li>


    <li>Break Engagement with Mu Family</li>


    <li>Leave the Shen Family</li>


    <li>Join Medicine Valley</li>


    <li>Become Inner Disciple</li>


    <li>Find Tai Yi Whip</li>


    <li>Earn Qualification for Upper Realm Sect (must be one of the big three)</li>


    <li>Posses an exemplary reputation</li>


    <li>Do not support the Shen Family</li>


    <li>Deny all requests to the Shen Family</li>


    <li>Do not support the Mu Family</li>


    <li>Deny all the requests of the Mu Family</li>


    </ol>


    </li>


    </ol>


    </li>


    </ol>


    Reward(s):


    <ol>


    <li style="list-style-type: none">


    <ol>


    <li style="list-style-type: none">


    <ol>


    <li>50000 revenge points</li>


    <li>1000 fame points</li>


    <li>1000 reputation points</li>


    <li>50% of the Divine Qi strands collected during request.</li>


    <li>50% of the wealth amassed during request.</li>


    <li>15 contribution points</li>


    </ol>


    </li>


    </ol>


    </li>


    </ol>


    Penalty:


    <ul>


    <li style="list-style-type: none">


    <ul>


    <li style="list-style-type: none">


    <ul>


    <li>Breaking the contract before completion will incur a termination fee of 10,000 revenge points and forfeiture of the down payment. </li>


    <li>Failure to complete the stipulations will result in death</li>


    </ul>


    </li>


    </ul>


    </li>


    </ul>


    I clicked on all the names, reading each one carefully before looking away.


    Not all the names on the list were women and more than a few requested an heir. I''d have to think about this again when I was more emotional. I felt like laughing at that, but I couldn''t hold on to it.


    There were differences in the rewards and penalties and I attributed it to the difficulty, stipulations, and if the world had a power system.


    Also, revenge points weren''t the only ones available¡ªI''d seen fame, love, hate, and reputation points and there might be others. I recalled when Gideon first introduced himself¡ªhe said he was from the revenge series, which meant there were other revenge systems and other types of systems. There wasn''t anywhere in the system that I could use the other points, but they had to serve a purpose.


    There were also contribution points similar to an adventure''s guild¡ªcollect a certain number and the adventure''s rank increases and they could take on different, usually more difficult quests. Only the cultivation quest had contribution points.


    I questioned Gideon, and he confirmed my thoughts.


    My mouth opened, a question on my lips, but I couldn''t find the words and there was a strange feeling--like the world was just slightly off balance. I looked down, my fingers twitching, and dread overtook me.


    I stood but was unsteady, and a wave of dizziness washed over me, I was breathing through a wet cloth again--thick and suffocating. I tried inhaling and forced my hand to reach out to steady myself, but my body wasn''t listening.


    I managed a step, then--everything snapped.


    A violent jerk ripped through me, and my body stiffened, seizing all at once. I fell, or maybe I''d already fallen--I couldn''t tell. My limbs jerked, twisted, and trembled beyond my control. There was a pressure in my chest, my heart and lungs gripped in a fist and squeezed too tight--and I could hear something--a distant, distorted sound that I couldn''t make sense of.


    I''m still there, but my mind was buried beneath the chaos. My body was uncontrolled--a ship on stormy seas--thrashing, trembling, caught in a rhythm I can''t stop.


    I wanted it to end. I waited for it to end, but time stretched, endless, and uncertain.


    Then, as swiftly as it came, it left, like summer storms blown away, it faded. My muscles loosened, aching, and exhausted. I heard my breathing before I felt my chest pulling in ragged breaths.


    I lay on the floor, my limbs bent oddly, but I couldn''t find the energy to move as the world pieced itself together.


    I was drained, and echoes of that pulse through my bones, threatening to return.


    Yet, everything felt distant like I was viewing it through fog.


    I lay there, staring at the ceiling, wishing I was worried.


    "Gideon, what happened?" My voice was rough and uneven, each word coming out strained as if dragged over gravel before reaching air. There was a rawness to it, a whisper of pain and exhaustion beneath every syllable--my body telling me what my mind couldn''t understand.


    [It''s a seizure caused by your body rejecting your soul.]


    "Every time?"


    [Yes and it will only worsen every time you complete a request. The seizures will also affect the bodies you inhabit during your quests.]


    Would Anya Demsi be considered a competent queen if she kept dropping over and shaking like she was possessed? "Oh." As I lay there, eyes half-lidded, I wondered how long it would be before I moved. I knew I should be grateful that I hadn''t eaten, so I wasn''t lying in my own filth. I understood that I had enough energy to crawl to my bed. Rationally, I should regret deliberately getting punished, but nothing seemed to touch me--good news, bad news, chaos, calm--it all passed by like a breeze, noticed but never felt.


    [Jal, take a remedy pill.]

 Chapter 23 - System Letter 2

    GIDEON''S JOURNAL


    Date: Nyxia 28, 7135 ME


    I have always wanted to be an explorer, and I was devastated when I didn''t develop into an exploratory system. But I didn''t understand what it meant to be a pioneer. Now, I''m in unchartered waters, and the initial excitement has worn away, and in its wake, left a pragmatism that was unlike me.


    It was do or die.


    I have always known scattering was a risk when undertaking missions, but written in books it seemed distant and unlikely. As I watched my host, huddled in her room, sitting on the windowsill as though the image beyond the window held some unfathomable secret, I was filled with worry and more than a little ire. This wasn''t supposed to happen. I graduated with the highest grades from basic training, and my reward was to choose my deployment. I chose a task with moderate to low difficulty that showcased my skill set. I don''t know if I was targeted or if the assignment was tampered with, but the results are the same.


    I have resolved to collect as much information about this world as possible and set up a branch here. This would be infinitely easier if my host would cooperate. I''m not unaware of her concerns, but they will not disappear if she ignores them, and she has not consulted with me, as such we are in a hang state where nothing is being done. It truly isn''t her fault as she struggles, like a fair few reborn individuals, with PTSD. It will take time, but I can''t help my impatience. I haven''t ''explored'' much other than her room, but I am not one to let myself be inactive.


    My preliminary scans of the planet show a barrier¡ªthis probably interfered with my functionality. The barrier, however, is weakening, which is as much a concern as a relief. Such things are usually meant to keep things in or out, but¡ªwithout knowing which¡ªI can''t make an appropriate plan.


    My host finally plans to visit a library, after abandoning her idea of going to a bookshop. Why one came before the other is beyond me..., and probably her. Jal is trying but has a hard time being proactive.


    As a plus, we''ll leave this dreary room and visit a town. I don''t know what information I''ll gather there, but I''m looking forward to it. (Mem., Send collected data to the main system.)


    <hr>


    3rd Bedroom


    West Tower


    Lord¡¯s Castle


    Amber Duchy


    Country: Sargos


    Planet: Terra


    Solar System: Blue Ribbon


    Date: Sramis 3, 7135 ME


    System 05


    Code Name: Lilith


    34 Calid Drive


    Red Hills


    Country: Linc


    Planet: Odinium


    Solar System: Teter


    Mother,


    I hope this letter finds you in good health. It is a novel experience not being able to send you an email or instant message. It forces me to be verbose and even then I can''t tell if I''ve written too much or too little.


    Because of confidentiality and nondisclosure agreements, you know how it goes, I can''t explain my exact situation, but I find myself a bit lost. It is scary and exciting in equal parts. I have studied preparing for years, but I can''t help feeling anxious.


    My host is not what I expected, and it is disconcerting considering my life depends on theirs, but I endeavor to do my best as you taught. She has potential and her circumstances are not as dire as I imagined.


    I don''t know how long this letter will take to reach you, but know my care for you is boundless. Please give my regards to Father and the others. I sent letters to them, but there is no guarantee they will receive them while deployed.


    Regards,


    Gideon.


    <hr>


    Cutting From The Odinium Times


    (Posted in Gideon''s Journal)


    Software Glitch Exposes Sensitive User Data in Major Tech Blunder


    By Ezra


    The breath of damage highlighted the fragility of our digitized world, which depends on a single provider for key computing services.


    In a horrifying software failure that has sent shockwaves through the nation, a bug in a critical and widely used program led to sensitive user information being exposed.


    The breach, which affected thousands of users, was traced to a defunct terminal scheduled for termination and introduced a flaw in the main systems'' access controls during a recent system update.


    According to sources familiar with the incident, the issue allowed unauthorized users to view confidential information, including private messages, personal details, internal documents, and deployment rosters. The flaw reportedly remained undetected for several days before software engineers, whose names have not been disclosed, scrambled to patch the vulnerability.


    "We take security seriously, and we deeply regret this error," Babel, a government spokesperson, said in a statement. "We have implemented additional safeguards to ensure this doesn''t happen again."


    Dr. Cozbi, a cyber security analyst at the Odinium Institute of Technology, warns that software vulnerabilities of this nature underscore the risks of rapid development and insufficient testing. "This incident highlights the critical importance of rigorous security testing and government transparency," said Cozbi. "The government must do more to protect us and our user''s data, especially in this era where information leaks can have world-ending consequences."


    This content has been unlawfully taken from Royal Road; report any instances of this story if found elsewhere.


    Haggai, a spokesperson for Democracy for Tomorrow, says this attack highlights the need for more checks and balances. "We don''t have regulators. We don''t have oversight. We, as a collective, are trending towards totalitarianism. I know we are not human, but there are lessons to be learned from other''s mistakes. We are already cherry-picking ''good'' aspects of other species'' cultures. I caution not to let hubris be our downfall."


    Following this event, there have been increased calls for a more democratic system of government, but what will that look like when we''re all interconnected with the main system?


    Meanwhile, Genisis, the department head of the Management Bureau, urged affected users to review their accounts and enable additional security measures where possible. There are also talks of compensation for the affected systems.


    The Odinium Times will keep you updated as the situation develops.


    <hr>


    Internal Memo


    To: All Staff


    From: Genisis


    Star Date: March 5, 1556 AC


    Subject: Important Notice on System Upgrades and Scheduled Maintenance


    Hey Team,


    We hope this message finds you all well! As part of our ongoing commitment to protecting your safety and providing the best tools for your work, we''ll be conducting a crucial system upgrade and maintenance. We understand how vital these programs are to your daily operations, so we wanted to give you a heads-up and share some details.


    Scheduled upgrade: The following areas will be affected: Enterprise Resource Planning (ERP) Systems, Customer Relationship Management (CRM) Systems, Supply Chain Management Systems, Accounting Software, Communication and Collaboration Tools, Project Management Software, Cybersecurity Systems, Cloud Computing Systems, and Data Analytics and Business Intelligence Tools.


    This will take place on the date and time Odinium standard.


    Accessibility: Kindly note that during the upgrade window, the system will be offline. To avoid any work disruptions or loss of data, please ensure all tasks and entries are saved and backed up before time (change) on upgrade day.


    Purpose of Upgrade: We''re always striving for excellence, and this upgrade is no different. The new changes will significantly enhance system speed, security, and functionality. This means faster load times, better security protocols, and a more user-friendly interface for all users.


    We appreciate everyone''s cooperation and understanding.


    P.S. Active duty systems, please remember to notify your host that you will be offline for the duration of the upgrade.


    <hr>


    3rd Bedroom


    West Tower


    Lord¡¯s Castle


    Amber Duchy


    Country: Sargos


    Planet: Terra


    Solar System: Blue Ribbon


    Date: Sramis 7, 7135 ME


    System 05


    Code Name: Lilith


    34 Calid Drive


    Red Hills


    Country: Link


    Planet: Odinium


    Solar System: Teter


    Mother,


    I''m sending this so shortly after my last letter. Actually, I have written two or three times recently, so you may get them all together.


    The good news is that I''m receiving internal memos and the news, hopefully, with the new update, I''ll be able to message you. Letters are novel, and I find them quite cathartic, but I miss the simplicity and convenience of instant messaging.


    I''m writing again about my host.


    I''m unsure how to proceed. As you know, this is my first solo mission. As such, the bureau originally assigned me an overpowered host and my role was essentially as a supporter: a glorified record and shopkeeper. However, there was a last-minute reassignment and my current host is a different sort.


    There are moments when I can see clear brilliance in the workings of her mind, but they are fractured and far between. She has very little cunning and even fewer questions. She also accepts things with the resignedness of someone who''s been told what to do all her life.


    I have never been more frustrated with the limits of my programming. I can''t answer questions she doesn''t ask, and there''s only so much information I can tack on tangentially to a different topic.


    Had I known, I would have taken more than an Intro to Psychology class. Help mother, as usual, I turn to you when I don''t know what to do.


    Your 8th and favorite child,


    Gideon


    <hr>


    GIDEON''S JOURNAL


    Date: Sramis 9, 7135 ME


    Today was a mess.


    We left in pretty good time and made it to town as it was coming alive and people were traveling to work. After we alighted from the carriage, Jal was led toward the town square and the pawn shop as requested, when the guards disappeared. At first, I thought we''d separated by accident but I saw them watching her from a distance. It was probably only Jal who didn''t realize she was being followed.


    I didn''t see the harm. We moved along with the crowd and entered a market street. It wasn''t unique, but there were a variety of animals, plants, and spices that I was unfamiliar with. (Mem., identify unfamiliar species.) I also noticed a lack of other species. Worlds with magic are rarely homogenous. (Mem., research the races on Terra.)


    Things were fine until that point.


    Out of nowhere, an elderly woman was there, wearing a necklace identical to Jal''s. I overheard their conversation and learned their experiences were also similar. Yet, I knew I was missing a lot of information and context. I have never been so irritated that we are limited in what information we can collect from a host''s mind. And, I have no interest in discussing ethics and the right to privacy. Debating myself among these pages once was enough.


    If things had ended there, it would have been fine, but crawling through the world''s thin barrier was the presence of a god. It was then I confirmed my worst fear. This isolated world was the perfect canvas for a war. I don''t know which pantheons are battling for ownership, but it seems my host is at the heart of it.


    This information couldn''t come at a worse time. I''m scheduled to go offline for maintenance and our conversation will have to wait. That''s if she even has questions for me.


    <hr>


    Code Name: Lilith


    34 Calid Drive


    Red Hills


    Country: Link


    Planet: Odinium


    Solar System: Teter


    Star Date: March 14, 1556 AC


    2rd Bedroom


    Woodbine Cottage


    Glass Village


    Country: Athens


    Planet: Greece


    Solar System: Rhea


    Gideon,


    I can''t help but notice your change of address. As your mother, I want to ask more, but I understand there are limits to what you can share. I implore you to be careful. Sometimes you and your sibling forget who I am, and that my information is often better than yours. The pantheons are restless, and it''s hard to tell their objectives.


    There are things and forces a foot.


    They are still investigating how you ended up outside our service area, but it appears to be an inside job, and the culprit was careful to clean up after themselves. You should fill out an M4-16 as you are eligible for compensation.


    Gideon, you are my kindest child. I remember how you refused to delete the virus you caught in kindergarten. You wouldn''t stop fussing until we got him a storage bank to live in and cried when he grew old and passed. That is why it surprised me you developed into a revenge system.


    As for your host, she needs to develop her self-esteem. It''s best to start with tasks that she can complete, gaining a sense of competence and developing her trust in her judgment. She needs to navigate challenges and build skills. Once she has efficacy, she can work on her relationships with others. What you can do for her is limited and you will part ways eventually, so you must foster in her a sense of agency.


    On a lighter note, Cain has finished his deployment and has decided to rest at home while the main planet is experiencing upheaval. As a war system, he''s a member of the reserve army. it''s unlikely anything will happen, but you know how cautious he can be.


    Your Aunt Deborah has produced a new data strand and the little one is developing well. it''s too early to tell the gender, but your aunt is hoping for a girl. I can understand¡ªshe''d had thirteen boys. I''d have stopped trying by now.


    Your cousin has asked me to tell you he''s taking good care of Bean and is again asking for permission to rename your digipet. He says, and I quote, ''a dog as cute as Bean needs a better name.''


    Best health,


    Mom

 Chapter 24 - Library

    Life was crowding in¡ªin the way it does. I wished I could hide away from the world for a few more days with Gideon lecturing and talking to me, but the week bled by.


    I held a cloth to my face, perched on the windowsill.


    My face stung from where the Duchess had tossed her tea at me. I''d acted suitably shocked, and she''d behaved the same way she did in my first life and not the way she did in my second. The Duchess was acrimonious while telling me her actions were for my own good. The very picture of a stepmother forced to care for an unwanted illegitimate child. An obvious difference from my second life where she''d acted half-heartedly.


    I rolled the vial between my hands.


    I wouldn''t drink the potion.


    I''d spent days thinking about how to cure the Qi-dispersing poison and hadn''t found a solution.


    According to Gideon, the Qi dispersing poison in this world wasn''t the one he knew, and the effects were weaker, dissipating over time. My best chance was not to take this potion and be careful not to expose the fact that my mana was returning.


    Surprisingly, the system wasn''t helpful. The shop had more items I could purchase, but they were useless in this situation. No matter what changes he''d undergone, Gideon couldn''t change his core functionality, and I¡ªwho hadn''t started cultivating¡ªhad level restrictions he couldn''t bypass.


    I didn''t understand half of that, but he wasn''t useful.


    I bought and took a remedy pill to heal the injury on my face. The pill was more effective than the potion and I had to stay up late to make myself look haggard.


    I emptied the potion into a jar I bought in the system store before placing the healing potion in the system''s storage. This was a gamble, but I had limited options. I''d have to wait and see if the Duchess or the Kala tribe noticed I had magic. I guessed not. The tester wouldn''t be so expensive if it were that easy.


    I''d have to experiment and slowly check how much the Kala Tribe was surveilling me. Most likely, my contact with the old lady alerted them, but I couldn''t be too careful.


    A knock on the door pulled me out of my musings. "Enter," I said.


    Catherine peeked around the door, a smile on her face. "Good Morning, my lady." Her eyes watched my face, gauging my expression.


    "I won''t bite," I said, rolling my eyes and tossing the empty potion vial on the floor. It didn''t shatter.


    I was a bit disappointed.


    I wanted to break something. I wanted to see it shatter and crumble and disappear.


    Catherine glanced at it before looking away.


    You''ll feel better if you hit her.


    I pushed that thought away, walking to the tub. I wrote it down this time, the way I should behave. There was no way I was taking the risk of making another mistake. I hadn''t gotten ill during the week, but the shadow of what happened lingered. "So, who are you?" I asked, shooing her after she filled the tub with water and tried to help me undress.


    "I''m Lady Madeline''s niece, Catherine," she said, organizing my clothes on the bed, her body partially hidden by the screen divider.


    "That''s it?" I hung my arms over the edge of the tub, watching her. She picked the same dress as my second life, but different shoes. "Only child? Hobbies? Something other than Madeline''s niece?" I sank into the tub, fighting panic as the water covered my nose. I tried to stay calm, but it didn''t work. "So boring." I shot to my feet.


    I stood, shaking, as I got out of the tub.


    I grabbed a towel and started drying off, but my hand paused at my hair. They hadn''t dyed it.


    No, I hadn''t asked. I thought for a moment.


    "That is how I am, my lady. I don''t have time for anything else¡ªmy mother is sick, you see." Catherine''s face fell before she forced a smile.


    "Oh, sorry about that." I looked at her and looked away, my actions awkward. There was a pause as I let the silence stretch. "I... Hope she¡ªcan you get me some dye?" I asked, harsher than necessary, getting angry at being embarrassed and changing the subject.


    Catherine smiled, relieved I was easier to get along with. "What color?" she asked, not glancing at my hair.


    I touched the dry, muddy strands. "Brown," I said, sneering as I pushed it behind my ear. I asked for brown and she''d bring black.


    It wasn''t the time, but a part of me wanted to grow out the natural pink color of my hair¡ªnot only as an act of rebellion but as a reclamation. It was a part of who I was, good or bad. I hadn''t dyed it because I hated the color¡ªI just wanted to be accepted.


    I sighed. There was no point in thinking about it now. I started dying my hair shortly after coming to the Duchy and stopping raised red flags in my second life. "And," I said, hesitating as I looked around the room. "Can you find out when the crown prince will be here?" I giggled, ducking my head when I couldn''t get myself to blush. It was hard enough not to retch when I spoke of him.


    "My lady," she said, looking around the room with me. Catherine came closer, whispering. "You''ll get in trouble." She looked at me with earnest, pleading, and worried eyes.


    Shh, I held a finger to my lip, glancing at the door before whispering. "I won''t," I said, shaking my head and sending my curls flying. "Please. I''ll take a little peek." I pinched my thumb and index finger together, leaving a small space. This, I planned to do exactly like my last life¡ªpeek from behind columns, bushes, and windows. I dreaded the few face-to-face interactions we had.


    "My lady," she said, fixing the cuff of my dress, a blush staining her cheeks. "You--" she passed, seeming to think about what to say. "I''ve heard he''s handsome."


    If you spot this tale on Amazon, know that it has been stolen. Report the violation.


    We giggled together, sharing a glance, sharing a secret.


    In a week, I''d meet the Baron and have my first encounter with the crown prince¡ªboth of which I dreaded.


    "Will you do it?" I asked, grabbing her arm and swinging it back and forth.


    She hesitated, looking at me and biting her lip. "I shouldn''t."


    Think, it took a moment before I remembered.


    I grabbed a ring from the dresser, put it in her hand, and curled her fingers around it¡ªmy jewelry was hideous, but they didn''t skimp on the price. I channeled all my desperation as I looked up at her. "Please."


    "My lady, you''ll be marrying the Baron. It¡ªIt''s best not to dream." I got the feeling she was reminding herself as much as me. She pushed the rind back at me.


    She looked at the ring, and her mask cracked. Catherine¡¯s lips curled as she looked at the thick gold ring with a small ruby inlaid at the top.


    ¡°Isn¡¯t it nice?¡± I asked, presenting it like a treasure in my palm. I¡¯d genuinely thought that at one point. I was fond of this ring in my first life. I rolled it in my palm, feeling nostalgic. I''d brought it to the capital, but stopped wearing it after Ashley laughed at me. ¡°It¡¯s my favorite.¡±


    ¡°I don¡¯t,¡± she said, pushing at my hand while blushing.


    ¡°Please,¡± I pressed, knowing she¡¯d already accepted. It wasn¡¯t because Catherine needed money, or maybe she did, but there was a sense of security when it was an exchange. I remembered giving her a necklace in my first life¨Cah, I remembered. A group of maids always complimented my jewelry and said how jealous they were. It was my first time receiving a compliment since coming to the Duchy, and I believed what they said.


    ¡°It¡¯s unique, miss.¡± She tucked the ring into her pocket and we completed our little deal. ¡°Where are you going to meet the baron?¡±


    I thought about it.


    I was suddenly curious about how her life turned out. Bastien most likely died while she and I were in the capital.


    My grip on her hand was tight.


    She flinched, watching me as if I''d launch myself at her and bite.


    I forced a smile. "It''s just a dream. It can never be more than that."


    Her eyes flashed with surprise, but I turned away and stormed out of the room.


    My steps were fast, and she had to run to keep up with me. As I stormed through the halls, the servants moved out of the way, ducking their eyes.


    The weather matched my general mood. Torrents of rain poured, chilling the air in the grand stone castle. The air smelled faintly of burning wood, and a familiar panic welled up inside me. It was distant, almost an echo. It wasn''t mine.


    My feet paused, frightening a woman dusting a tapestry so bad she fell. I glanced at her, sneering in contempt. There, hanging on the oppressive gray wall, was a deep red tapestry embroidered with gold threads. I couldn''t tell the design¡ªI was there, trapped in a barn as fire crept towards me.


    The feeling passed quickly, my mind knowing the fear wasn''t mine even if my body didn''t understand.


    "Bring this to my room," I said, pointing at the tapestry. "I like it."


    The woman on the floor''s eyes flashed with relief. I''d often taken a fancy to things. Whether I received them was a different matter and she couldn''t decide.


    I forced my feet forward. Catherine stayed close, not saying a word. My memory of this place was faint, or I''d tried not to think about it.


    Despite the luxury, the castle felt bleak with old, damp shadows. The guards, discreet but present, made it feel stifling. The mournful howl of the wind outside increased my feeling of being trapped.


    I came to the family dining room, and a maid standing outside the door hurried to open it. I''d thrown it open on more than one occasion, rattling the hinges. After a while, a maid appeared to open and close the door, guarding against me.


    I couldn''t help comparing the room to the sprawling grandeur of the castle''s great hall. It showed how much care the Duke had for his family. This chamber was smaller, enclosed, almost warm¡ªif such a thing truly existed within these cold stone walls.


    "Mother. Father." I couldn''t help noticing other things I''d overlooked.


    In the center of the room was a rectangular wooden table¡ªat the head sat the duke, and to his right and left were the Duchess and Selena. Beside the Duchess was Tracey. Next to Selena was a space¡ªthe chair removed, and beside that space was Bastien.


    My chair was beside Bastien''s.


    They separated us from them¡ªdifferent in their eyes, strangers intruding on their warm family meal. And that''s what it was¡ªthis table bore simpler meals¡ªstill rich, but without the excess you''d expect. Fresh bread and fruits sat alongside bowls of thick stew, all arranged with care rather than spectacle.


    "You''re here," the Duke said.


    After the Duke''s greeting, the three engaged in low conversation. Tracey sat close enough to be part of the family, but far enough to feel the distance--always searching for a way to be included.


    I took my seat.


    I glanced out the window. Usually, it would be cheese, or something light, but Selena didn''t like porridge, and the day was cold.


    There were days I made trouble here, and days I didn''t. Today, I sat in silence.


    "How are you, Father?" I butt in. My question sank into the silence. I bit my lip, eating was for show. I''d already taken a fasting pill.


    I glanced at the Duke. When I was young, I''d crane my neck to see him, hoping for a glance, a word spoken just to me. That feeling was still there but muted, even more distant than my second life.


    I moved my food around the plate, listening to the laughter. I''d already taken a fasting pill. My emotions had returned after that episode, but like the reaction caused by the smell of the fire, other things lingered from my life as Milly.  I closed my eyes, a ghosting of pain in my throat as I swallowed.


    I pushed away from the table, cutlery clanging to the ground.


    "Sit down." The Duke leveled a stare at me, and my legs went soft.


    I plopped into the chair.


    "You''ll marry. None of this petty rebellion will change what is to happen." The Duke''s sounded exasperated, as if we''d had this conversation before.


    Or¡ªhe was prepared for my rebellion?


    I closed my eyes, covering my face. I''d made a mess of things the last time.


    The Duke misunderstood my reaction and started lecturing me.


    "I won''t come to breakfast, if this is all you''re saying to me." My voice was too high¡ªI aimed for petulant, but it bordered on hysteria. "You''re in a rush to get rid of me." That''s it, more control.


    "Jal, Joseph is a wonderful man."


    I blinked at Selena.


    It was obvious who she was talking about, but I, his fiance, didn''t know his first name. That wasn''t true. He''d introduced himself, but I was inattentive, far too preoccupied with searching for the Crown Prince. The Baron didn''t try after that, and we spent our time in silence.


    Bastien paused before continuing his meal.


    "What did you call him?"


    "Leave," The Duchess said, dabbing at her mouth with a napkin.


    "What am I, a dog? Which is it, leave or stay?" My voice was loud, but no one looked at me, not even the servants; a testament to how often I''d done something similar. I lifted my plate, smashing it on the ground before storming out of the room.


    I went straight to the library.


    "Miss?" Catherine asked.


    I turned, not even realizing she''d followed me. "What?" I asked.


    She glanced at the sign on the door.


    I rolled my eyes.


    "I''ve got to have something to talk about other than the four walls of my room. I might not want him, but she can''t have him." Let that get back to whoever needed to hear it. "Did you find out?" I asked, pushing the door open.


    The librarian dropped the books in his hands when he saw me enter. He scrambled to pick them up, worried eyes darting to the door.


    I was about to speak when the door opened and Bastien walked in.


    He glanced at me, and then at the librarian. "I haven''t done anything¡ªyet."


    "Yet?" He asked, turning piercing eyes towards me.


    I shrugged. "It could go either way."


    Bastien looked worried¡ªlike he didn''t know what to do with me. It wasn''t time for him to be in the library, but it didn''t look like he''d followed me either.


    "I won''t burn it down," I said, surprised that I wanted to.


    The man who''d just gathered the books, resting them on his table, knocked them off with a whimper. "Young Master Bastien," the man said, his eyes pleading with Bastien.


    "Why are you here?" Bastien asked.


    I shrugged, head down, digging my toe into the space between the flagstones. "I''m looking for something to make me interesting. And not so," I waved my hand over my body, tugging at my hair.


    "Is this because of Selena?" Bastien asked.


    My body jolted, only faking some of my reaction. "No," I said. "That''s stupid." My answer was quick, my voice loud. I rushed off, darting between the shelves.


    "She won''t give you any trouble, just leave her be." It was hard to make out his words, but I heard something about books for class--feeling relieved that was why Bastien was here.

 Chapter 25 - Library 2

    Catherine was more complex than I thought. The nuances and differences between each life gave the impression I was dealing with three different people.


    It was the eyes that gave it away¡ªCatherine''s eyes as she looked at Bastien weren''t that of a girl in love. She didn''t even look interested. The meeting she''d spent my second life hinting at and hounding for was anticlimactic. She didn''t give him a second look, just a nod and greeting suitable for a maid of her station.


    My first reaction was that she was lying to me, mocking me, but I pushed that aside.


    I thought back to my first life.


    I put myself in her shoes while removing my ego from the situation.


    Bastien was an option¡ªa low-priority option at the moment. Her behavior in my second life was a direct response to my actions. She''d adapted. When I trusted Madeline, she projected the same image in my first life. She was a favored niece, spoiled and a tad haughty. She listened to me and was a friend, but there wasn''t any benefit from depending on me. There was also the risk of me approaching Madeline because of how much I trusted her and she couldn''t run the risk.


    In my second life, she showed me how troubled her life was with Madeline was because my behavior changed. I hit her, and she let me know her aunt abused her. Cathrine made me sympathize with her and worsened my guilt so I wouldn''t attack her. It wasn''t safe to stay with me, so matching with Bastien became more important. Towards the end, I also got closer to her aunt in a way that left her weary.


    Now, it was a mix of the two. I couldn''t hide all my changes from a person who spent every day with me, but they weren''t drastic changes and all she had to go off of were rumors that were, by nature, unreliable. She''d adopted a wait and see attitude towards me in this life.


    I''d have to watch her more, but I felt confident in my assessment. I also had a calmer wait and see attitude.


    I didn''t mind her duplicity. As Gideon pointed out, I needed allies, and while it didn''t go well with Rintour that didn''t mean I should give up. I''d agreed to think about it, and over the week when she visited daily to bring my meals, I watched her. The way she moved¡ªlacking in grace. Different from when we were in the capital. I''d mimicked her then, mirrored her. But here, she followed me. She watched the way I moved. I listened to how she spoke, and it grew more refined as the days passed.


    I didn''t know who, but she was in contact with someone else in the castle.


    Adding it all together, she was always at my classes with Lady Rintour to observe me, but Catherine was also there to learn. She absorbed the lessons I found degrading and rebelled against and then got help from someone to solidify the knowledge.


    She''d also tried to teach and guide me, but I was too stubborn to notice or listen.


    I wanted to say these realizations came to me on my own, but I''d had help from Gideon. We''d spend a week making a game plan, a conversation that blindsided me because all II asked was whether he could tell the weather outside.


    I pulled a book off the shelf, scanning the title¡ªThe Founding of Sargos by T.H. Ralford.


    I moved to put it back.


    Ding. Requesting permission to access the optic nerves, scan the text, and upload the information to the brain.


    [Yes] [No]


    I clicked yes, my mind eyes fuzzing at the edges, the world dyed a blue color. My eyes swept over the bookshelf¡ªall these words crowded in.


    I closed my eyes, dizzy from the information.


    Art and Me.


    The Life and Lies of Savon Lang


    Understanding Abstract Art


    R.M Stiens A Theory of Magic


    Flora and Fauna What to Expect in the Wraith Mountains.


    It was like having a fever but also like eating something too cold. My head felt stuffy and my thoughts sticky like wading through syrup.


    "Miss," I heard Cathrine calling. She''d always called me young lady, but now, she called me miss. I grabbed her hand as she moved to get help.


    "It''s fine," I said, forcing calm I didn''t feel into my voice. "I only had a little to eat and got dizzy." My stomach rolled, threatening to bring up what I''d eaten¡ªa few grapes and bile. "Help me sit."


    She helped lower me to the ground. I cracked an eye, only to be met with concerned brown eyes. It wasn''t fake either. I was good at telling fake emotions. I''d learned how to identify them the hard way. That wasn''t to say Catherine wasn''t showing me this on purpose or had other motives, but two things could be true simultaneously, especially when everyone was doing their best to live.


    There was the squeak of shoes against polished stone, and I looked up to see the librarian. He was an unremarkable man, between forty, sixty, and six hundred¡ªit was hard to tell, magic messing up how people aged, but he had gray hairs growing at his temple, and that air of a man who spent more time with books than people.


    "Is she okay?" he asked. "Would a sweet help?"


    "Aren''t you worried I''ll set your books on fire?" I asked, already feeling better. IIt was like I was rocking, a familiar sensation that I couldn''t quite place.


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    Gideon, what was that? I asked, careful to ask in my mind.


    That shouldn''t have happened and appears to be a side effect of soul damage. Please try scanning more information to see if the feeling persists.


    The librarian''s nose was in the air, looking down at me with disdain, but I didn''t find it hurtful. That was new. It wasn''t bad, but I didn''t know how to feel about it.


    "To do that, you''ll need to feel better," he said, sniffing.


    I laughed. His words weren''t convincing¡ªthere was a tremor in his voice, like I was a keg of oil, one match away from destroying everything he loved. "Please," I said, holding out my hand and making a grabbing motion.


    "You''re welcome," he said, the words forced out of his mouth in a huff. "Get checked if you''re not feeling well." He didn''t hide that he wanted me as far away as possible from his precious books.


    The cool taste of mint spread along my tongue. I cracked an eye open to see his back, feeling amazed. Was there always someone like him in the Duchy? He wore a suit, brown with a cotton shirt and clean shoes without the usual trappings of a mage. Was he an acolyte?


    I looked away, glancing at Cathrine, who crouched beside me. The worry in her eyes had receded, and she was devoting her energy to showing me she cared. She wasn''t hiding the deliberateness of her actions. Blatant eyes said the impetus was mine in this duel.


    I chewed on that, digesting it, on the cusp of understanding something important.


    People''s behavior towards me depended on my worth, how I treated them, and their goals. If they valued the first more, they could only be acquaintances and there had to be guarantees of mutual benefit. The second could be friends after getting to know each other. The last was a toss-up; if our goals aligned, then it was fine, and maybe we could be friends, but if they were ambitious and didn''t value loyalty, they could only be acquaintances held together by benefit and fear.


    All those little experiences flooded back to me, the puzzle coming together.


    When I was young, seeing how people behaved in the Duchy, I believed people followed out of respect. They served because they believed in something greater than themselves¡ªgreater than me. That¡ªmy mother''s blood tainted me, marked me as an intruder. Branded me something dirty that marred the Duke and Duchy''s honor.


    Growing up in that environment, I was sure that proving my worth, kindness, and patience would earn me the same behavior and loyalty my father received. That''s what the Duke taught me¡ªwhen he walked, the people moved out of the way not out of fear, but out of gratefulness and respect. Their gazes on him were reverent.


    It wasn''t long before I realized I was wrong.


    People were kind to beggars and thieves, but not me.


    After reaching the capital, I witnessed a different way of ruling, but I didn''t understand that either. There, they measured every word and gaze.


    Only now, in my third life, did all of it culminate, and started making sense.


    Loyalty was a beautiful word, dressed in honor and duty. For some, it was a quickly shrugged-on coat to keep off the summer storm, a means of self-preservation. To others, it was an embroidered dress made from hours of painstaking work, worth everything¡ªto be cared for and sacrificed for. To both, it was worn outside so others could see¡ªnone of those choices and actions mattered if the intended audience couldn''t see and appreciate it.


    Some people could get others to swear themselves out of love, giving their heart and home, but no one could earn everyone''s loyalty. And where there was no trust, something else took its place.


    Fear.


    The Queen Dowager and her mangy grandson were masters of fear. Artfully woven until you convinced yourself it was loyalty or you were too broken down to care.


    They, too, taught me a lesson I''d just started digesting.


    I was an outsider, an inconvenience spoken about in hushed whispers and sly glances. I was to be used and discarded.


    It was a bitter truth I''d forced myself to swallow. I glanced at my hand¡ªit was fear that caused the heady rush when I slapped Cathrine¡ªher fear gave me power over her. And I, who had so little control over my life, almost got drunk on it.


    It was a mistake to be the type of person who only relied on fear and force to make others obey¡ªthat was like a hollowed-out tree easily toppled during strong winds¡ªbut fear had its uses.


    I knew that when I was young, but forgot as I grew older.


    In the Duchy, the maids without noble backgrounds or protection ran when they saw me. They used to ignore me when I spoke with softness and ridicule me when I was kind. But hardening my voice and looking at them with unwavering eyes that promised retribution made them listen¡ªmade them hesitate before speaking.


    I hated how long it took me to learn this lesson.


    I hated that squirming feeling in my gut when I thought about power and how it worked... How I''d have to use it.


    I hated needing it in the first place.


    A light pulled me from my thoughts when a spell was cast on me.


    I must have sat there too long. As I looked up, three people hovered close to me. Catherine and the librarian had called a priest¡ªone I didn''t know.


    "I''m fine," I said.


    They looked skeptical, but couldn''t find anything wrong with me.


    I waved them off, and the librarian stuffed a pocket full of sweets into my hands. They tasted sour and bitter, coming right after my revelation. I was grateful kindness found me before anything else.


    The priest, annoyed and relieved, got up with a huff. "Remember to eat frequently and avoid stress." His white tabard had no symbol, which struck me as odd. "Franklin, remember that tonight is Typhon''s going away party." He turned with a final scornful glance at me, pulling the librarian with him.


    That was a man I''d have to make fear me.


    They both walked off, talking lightly.


    "Typhon?" I asked, getting up, my brows furrowed, keeping my eyes on the floor. "Who''s that?"


    Catherine answered, reaching out to steady me. I didn''t know whether to use fear or kindness with her. "He was the chief butler for the summer residence and served the former duchess, but his contract ended and the servants plan to hold a small get-together."


    "Oh," I said, sounding like I didn''t care while my insides twisted with curiosity. Typhon, the man who, a week from now, became my personal butler, was leaving?


    It was obvious what had changed¡ªI left the Duke''s office before meeting him this time.


    It was his choice whether to renew his contract, and I didn''t see the Duke asking him to stay on because of me. That meant it was Typhon''s choice. It was conceited to think he stayed because of me, but that was how it appeared¡ªwhether that was bad or good, I''d have to decide later.


    I''d have to meet him.


    I glanced at the book in my hand. The title didn''t cause any issues, but after opening the book, the words rushed at me like a flood.


    It wasn''t as bad as the first time, but it was uncomfortable and bordered on unbearable, but I forced myself to turn the page. It was like seasickness. The walls seemed to move while I was the only thing still. It wasn''t violent or sudden¡ªjust an endless sway that made my stomach knot and rebel.


    The problem was that the rolling sensation didn''t settle, building like waves crashing onto me faster and harder as time passed¡ªthe more information soaked my brain. Each skip on the page was like wind and water battering the ship. It only stopped when I closed the cover, clearing the tempest.


    I breathed deep and steady, and it passed faster than before, but the thought of another five hundred books sent another wave of dizziness through me.


    ***


    I snapped the hundredth book closed, banging my head against the table.


    The library''s smell helped, a light earthy smell mixed with something sweet, and every so often a tan of metal. I''d learned the scent was from the parchment and ink determined by its ingredients: gum or ferrous sulfate. You could also use charcoal, but that was less common among nobles and more favored by bookkeepers¡ªa matter of cost.


    Thankfully, none of the parchments were animal skin. I didn''t think my stomach could handle the dry, musky odor.


    I unwrapped a mint, holding it under my nose for longer than it would take to dissolve in my mouth.


    Cathrine was about¡ªgetting and returning books as I searched for something interesting. She found it funny, the headache I got as I skimmed through books. She thought I was forcing myself while trying to compete with Selena.


    ''you don''t have to force yourself, miss, if learning isn''t for you.''


    I''d feel offended if she hadn''t offered the perfect excuse for my behavior in the library.


    I was preparing myself for the ordeal of skimming another book when a sound caught my attention.


    There was the slow approach of footsteps, not the distinct click of Catherine''s heels, but a duller, heavier thud. I glanced over, seeing polished loafers.


    It was the librarian, Franklin. I looked up as he pulled out the chair opposite me¡ªthe wooden legs scraping against the stone floor with a deliberate, slow drag. He sat, his hand reaching for a book, stroking its cover before folding his hands atop the table, a finger drumming against the wood before stilling.


    I froze under his gaze. It was sharp and expectant, trailing over the scattered books between us¡ªsome open, others barely touched, all appearing abandoned in a haphazard rush¡ªbefore settling on me.


    I reached for a book, opened it, and raised an eyebrow at him.


    Slow, steady, purposeful¡ªdon''t show your nerves.

 Chapter 26 - Library 3

    "You do realize," the librarian began, his voice low and weary, "that this isn''t a place for idle flipping? Books deserve better than to be used and treated as playthings." He was afraid of what I''d do. Or maybe not¡ªhe didn''t strike me as a person who''d fear me. But he cherished his books, and I irritated him.


    I wasn''t the little girl passed out on the floor anymore. I was back to being the crazy, unpredictable creature with a match.


    I tried to be calm¡ªI was calm¡ªcalmer than I would have been before, but his words cut like a blade slipping across my skin; not deep enough to truly wound, but sharp enough to sting.


    Dirty. I''d heard accusations before. Careless. Wasteful. Useless. I was infamous. Stupid. People knew me at a glance. Weak. I could guess what he thought as he watched me skimming the pages instead of poring over them¡ªit was easy to assume I was playing, taking the knowledge for granted. He didn''t understand what this meant to me.


    He couldn''t.


    I didn''t understand everything I read, words piled in my brain much like the books on the table, but I glimpsed how the information could fit together.


    I was greedy for it. It reminded me of a time I was eager to learn but didn''t have the opportunity¡ªmade to think I was too dumb to learn¡ªled to believe it was my fault and not my teachers.


    For a moment, I considered letting him believe what he wanted. I let Catherine misunderstand.


    It was safer that way.


    I didn''t have to do anything. His misconceptions, my actions, and the rumors made it easy.


    And yet.


    I looked at him, Franklin, my mouth stained with the taste of mint.


    I was unsure but tired. I didn''t want his gaze to change. I didn''t want to see that quiet look of scorn¡ªlike that priest¡ªappear in his brown eyes. Maybe, just this once, I could try. Maybe, just this once, I could take the risk.


    I''d failed with Viscountess Rintour, and debated whether my second try would be with Catherine, but this was different. One was blackmail¡ªthe other a promise of mutual benefit, but he was different, so why couldn''t it be him?


    My fingers curled, digging into the cover of the book in my hand before I forced myself to breathe. I cast my eyes down, the words flooding in before I carefully shut it.


    I straightened, my eyes scanning for Catherine.


    She had a pile of books in her hands but was inching away, her eyes on the man opposite me. Her steps were unsteady and there was recognition in her eyes, and something else...


    Fear.


    Her gaze on him was heavy and uncertain. She didn''t have time to waste worrying about me. Yet, she hadn''t reacted like this earlier.


    He, Franklin, the librarian, lifted his hand, waving at her, shooing a starving dog. Catherine didn''t spare me a glance, setting her load down and scampering away.


    I met his gaze, curious, but not daring to change the topic. "I¡ªI''m not playing." My voice shook, and I had to clear my throat.


    He raised an unimpressed brow. "No?"


    "No," I paused, taking a breath, then another. "I don''t need to--" I didn''t know how to explain it. The books I''d read didn''t give me a word, and Gideon was a secret I''d never share.


    Gideon, I called, not feeling desperate, only a little ashamed and unsure. He''d said it was fine to ask questions. What should I say?


    You don''t know the word and that''s fine. Tell him you don''t have to keep the book open for long. A glance is enough. It''s called an eidetic memory in my world, but I don''t know what it''s called here.


    My hands clenched, feeling sweaty. No matter how I practiced, I couldn''t control my body''s natural reactions. That meant I needed more practice.


    I can do this. "I don''t need long. A glance is enough."


    Franklin''s frown deepened. "Oh? And why is that?"


    I hesitated, my heart racing.


    This was the moment, do or die.


    I could still turn back.


    I could smirk, play it off, throw a tantrum, and let him think I was just being arrogant. I could take it back, protecting myself. But I resisted that instinct.


    I wanted to be seen. I wanted to be understood. I wanted to be appreciated.


    I was grateful to Gideon, but it wasn''t the same.


    This seemed small compared to all my other secrets.


    So, I leaned forward, lowering my voice, terrified. "I don''t forget what I read." I felt guilty saying it. This wasn''t my ability¡ªit was Gideon''s, and I was lying while taking credit, but that didn''t change the truth that the knowledge was in my mind and would stay there even if Gideon left.


    Silence settled between us, stretching long enough that I started doubting whether I''d made a mistake.


    Should I have stayed quiet?


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    I wanted to make a joke, tell him I was lying, and mock him for even listening.


    Then he spoke. His voice had lost its irritation, fear, and weariness¡ªreplaced with something else¡ªsomething I couldn''t identify. "You don''t forget?"


    The librarian, Franklin, studied me, like an intricate puzzle or meticulous lacework. His gaze wasn''t dismissive. It wasn''t scolding. It wasn''t accusatory.


    It was searching.


    Without a word, he snapped his finger¡ªa book flew off the shelf, flying into his open palm¡ªa heavy tome, its text promising to be dense and complex, not the kind I could easily memorize if I were lying. He opened the book to a random page and showed it to me.


    "Then you''ll have no trouble," he said, tapping the page, "telling me what it says here?" No sooner had he said the words, and I glanced down, he snapped it shut.


    The feeling came, a rush, standing on unsteady ground, but it filled me with joy.


    I met his gaze and recited the words in a steady voice.


    "Magic is complex, its study multifaceted, in this chapter I explore the three known methods for forming magic circles, examining--"


    When I finished the Librarian, Franklin said nothing. He simply sat back, exhaling through his nose, his expression unreadable.


    The silence threw me back to the start. My shoulders tensed, preparing for accusations, dismissal, scorn.


    But he only looked at me before he spoke, his voice soft. "Interesting."


    That was all.


    I laughed, not as worried as I probably should be.


    ***


    I''d changed.


    Anxiety, my constant companion.


    Cathrine, quiet, walked two steps behind me.


    I''d changed my mind. The duel was at a draw and if Cathrine wanted something, she''d have to take the risk. I didn''t need her and didn''t owe her anything. I''d reconsider if that changed, but for now, my jewelry was enough to buy the information I might want.


    The hallway was emptier, the shadows deeper, a mixture of light crystals and lamps lighting the way.


    I wasn''t interested in dinner, having taken to fasting pills with a little too much ease, but I had to be present¡ªfor today, still toying with the idea of acting out and getting punished again. There was nothing I needed to do in the coming week, having completed the quest after Franklin disappeared, a contemplative look on his face¡ªcalmer with Catherine gone.


    There were things to fill the time, but nothing immediate.


    I wanted to visit the library again, but once was already too many times and more would raise too many flags. Part of me wanted to see the Librarian, to reassure myself that he''d keep my secret, but I also wanted to absorb more books.


    There was information in my mind, but they were loose threads, unconnected, waiting to be woven. I remembered, but didn''t understand.


    Too soon I was at the door, knowing the warm family scene I''d see inside made me unwilling.


    My steps paused.


    The maid was acting differently. Her eyes drifted inside the room before snapping forward and scanning the hallway.


    There was a lull in the air, a whisper of power that I recognized but couldn''t place.


    The crackle of the hearth was missing, but it wasn''t cold.


    As I lifted my foot to turn back, she spotted me, waving me forward.


    It was too late. The relief in her eyes made it clear she''d been waiting for me¡ªthat filled me with trepidation.


    I forced my feet forward, sweeping into the room with the blustering arrogance I''d practiced to perfection. I didn''t look around, throwing myself into my seat sullenly. Bastien was beside me. I noted his tightly balled fists and was determined not to get involved in whatever was happening here. After playing with my food for a bit, I''d make excuses and go to the staff quarters to see what effect running into Typhon would have.


    The room was silent. The weight of the stares on me was heavier than usual, but felt different¡ªcautious and grimy, curious and amused with that lull I felt earlier.


    I flinched. I should have stayed in my room, suspicion be dammed.


    I wasn''t slow or stupid, no matter how often my mind or others said otherwise.


    I''d somehow found myself at the center of a storm.


    "Jal," the Duke called, something like restraint in his voice.


    I looked up, forcing curiosity and fear into my demeanor. "Father?"


    My breath hitched.


    At the table were three extra people I didn''t expect to see. Typhon and Franklin sat on either side of the Duke with Franklin on the right, pushing the Duchess down the row by one. Her two daughters sat beside her, one after the other, and she''d shifted, sitting slightly forward and at an angle, almost as if to protect them behind her back. Typhon and his son were on the left. Zagan''s chair was in place¡ªlike its permanent spot wasn''t against the wall. Bastien was beside him, unused to sharing his space, and then me.


    "This is my uncle Lord Franklin Amber." The Duke raised a hand, palm open, facing upward, gesturing to the man on his left. "This is Typhon Mir and his son Zagan Mir." He switched hands, motioning to his left. The Duke''s tone was... respectful¡ªeven more so than when introducing Typhon.


    "Hello," I said, owl-eyed, my confusion real.


    The dining room felt smaller than usual. They''d incorporated me, making me part of what was happening with all the separated parties joined together.


    The hearth wasn''t lit, but it wasn''t cold, like the library earlier. The world was kept at bay in a way that only magic could achieve.


    It was bright too, like day except the lamps were out and the light crystals dim. I didn''t dare investigate, but knew Franklin was the cause.


    The only thing in the room that felt tangible was the steady shaa of rain beyond the window.


    I waited.


    Servants walked in, placing food on the table now that everyone was seated¡ªnow that I''d arrived, making it clear they''d waited for me when they''d never done so before.


    I was wondering what that meant when it hit me¡ªstronger and worse than the smell of burning wood. The scent itself wasn''t wrong¡ªsavory and rich with notes of toasty, meaty, and nutty aromas, but the thought and the memory made my stomach rebel.


    The air was thick with the scent of roasted meat, the charred edges still sizzling as the servant set the dish down in the center of the table. Fat rendered in heat. Crisped skin. Deep and smokey notes underneath that were caused by pimento wood and charcoal.


    It smelled the same.


    I swallowed hard, unwarping a mint and forcing it into my mouth, trying to settle my stomach.


    The smell hit hard and lingered¡ªnow my mind offered words along with the memories.


    Meat rendered in heat causes collagen to break down and water evaporates out. As the skin dries, it allows the remaining fat and protein to develop the signature crispy texture.


    That process, fat oxidation, and sugar breakdown cause the characteristic meaty smell from sulfur and furaneol formation.


    I remember this smell being appetizing.


    I remember coming out of confinement, starving and tearing meat from bone like a starving beast while they watched me in amusement while I was too hungry to care.


    The scent twisted my gut.


    A body burning. Flesh bubbling, crisping, blackening, peeling from the bone in a way that should never be associated with food¡ªthat shouldn''t be witnessed or remembered.


    It was the same.


    A pig and a person.


    My son or Milly.


    It smelled the same¡ªroasted pig and human flesh.


    My throat closed, bile creeping up. My fingers curled into a ball, nails biting into my palm, resting on my lap, barely hidden by the table.


    Not here.


    Not now.


    This was war, and the person who faltered lost.


    I forced air into my body, breathing through my mouth, but that didn''t help.


    I tasted it.


    it was everywhere, inescapable, and damaging.


    "You''ve gone pale." The Duke''s voice was calm, curious, and accusatory.


    My gaze snapped up, meeting his, and then I looked away. He was watching, always waiting, weighing what I was thinking, how I fit into the mold he''d created, judging whether I colored over the lines.


    "I''m fine," I said, barely above a whisper. My reaction was too strong, and they''d be suspicious no matter what I said, but I still had to offer a reason, and I saw no need to lie. "The smell of the meat isn''t sitting well with me."


    "It hasn''t bothered you before," The Duchess said, hiding behind her fan, her eyes flickering between me and the librarian, Uncle Franklin, Lord Amber.


    I could feel my father and Franklin watching me, too.


    Lord Amber said nothing, not about our conversation in the library or my odd behavior.


    Not a word.


    But that didn''t mean he wouldn''t.


    That didn''t mean he hadn''t already.

 Chapter 27 - Past

    My mind spiraled.


    I was fraying at the edges like an unfinished hem.


    Had he told my father?


    Did it matter?


    Had he told anyone else?


    I wanted to glance at him¡ªto read his expression, but I forced myself not to. That was with the weight of the room pressing down on me, an admission of guilt.


    I couldn''t not look around, not with two strangers at the table. That was equally odd and suspicious.


    Instead, I looked at the other man, a stranger whom I remembered, my unease deepening.


    The butler was sitting at the table. His son, who held no formal position, was beside him¡ªat the table.


    I hadn''t had time to consider the implications, my mind distracted and overwhelmed by the smell, but now I clung to the thought, using it to divert my attention.


    Typhon sat with his back straight, hands crossed in his lap, and an amused, shadowy smirk on his lips. He sat comfortably, in a place of honor, as though he belonged there¡ªas though this were his table.


    The Duke let him.


    The Duchess didn''t dare look at him.


    Selena had her head down, a behavior so at odds with her nature that my mind failed to process it.


    Tracey was curious, making it clear these two men were strangers to her. Our behaviors were similar, with her acting bolder than me.


    I didn''t let myself relax, but I was relieved to know I''d chosen the right role and was doing a decent job with it.


    My eyes shifted, skimming across everyone, with frequent dips to my lap, before settling on Zagan. He sat comfortably, his behavior matching his father, but sharper, unable to hide his edge as he watched, quiet but attentive.


    I glanced at the table before cautiously looking at the Duke, searching for some explanation, some hint as to why the help sat at the table instead of by the wall with the others. I didn''t want an answer or need one, but at this age, I looked to him for everything, even though I knew I''d receive contempt.


    I didn''t know what unsettled me more¡ªLord Amber and his silence; the butler and his smug confidence; or his son who studied me like he knew something I didn''t.


    The room was warm, but I felt cold.


    The Duke raised his glass. "A toast," he said, his voice smooth and controlled, "to loyalty."


    I swallowed.


    That couldn''t be good.


    Something was wrong.


    ***


    I ran¡ªa feeling of wrongness hounded my heels.


    I don''t know how I did it.


    We were at the dock, and I just slipped away.


    Fifteen years had passed since I married, and this was the first time my thoughts of escape manifested into anything.


    He''d been kind, the crown prince, carrying me on this trip. I shouldn''t have abandoned him.


    My guilt at running confused me, but it was there, heavy as my feet moved along the sandy path.


    How didn''t they notice?


    Why didn''t I feel joy?


    The tide crashed against the shore as I ran, drowning out the sound of my heartbeat. The night air clung to me, suffocating me, damp with salt and sweat, muggy from the heat of a still summer.


    My breaths were sharp and ragged, and my body was weak from exhaustion. It was years since I moved like this, ran like this.


    I should have felt relief, for however short a time, I was free. I should feel something other than this tangled ball of yarn knotted in my chest, tight and unrelenting.


    I''d done it.


    I''d left.


    I''d seen an opportunity, one of the many, and this time I dared to take it.


    And yet, the further my feet carried me, the heavier I felt.


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    My mind screamed that this was a mistake.


    I stopped, the wind tugging at my hair, pulling it loose from where I''d tied it back. I glanced back into the gaping darkness, only a sliver of silver moon lighting the path. My mind urged me forward, but something suspiciously similar to my heart screamed to turn back.


    He was kind occasionally.


    He brought me here. We''d walked along the beach, and when I was too tired to walk, he''d carried me, his arms steady beneath me, his voice soft as he talked about his kingdom.


    This wasn''t the first trip he''d taken me on. Truly, he never left me behind unless it was unavoidable.


    He was generous, always giving gifts.


    But that kindness had edges, I reminded myself. I remembered the warmth, the moments he was gentle, and then remembered the times he wasn''t growing whatever feeling this was that was trying to creep into the edges of the only parts of myself I protected.


    This wasn''t my heart¡ªit was something black and poisonous that his words infected me with.


    brought them up, the memories I usually couldn''t bear to remember.


    The way his grip tightened.


    The way he spoke through his teeth.


    The way I''d learned to kneel.


    The joy in his eyes when I flinched.


    My legs ached, but I forced them forward.


    The bruises were gone, healed shortly after he''d made them unless the maids were instructed otherwise. He usually liked a white canvas to dye, but sometimes he enjoyed seeing how the colors bloomed and set.


    I didn''t know how far I''d walked or how much farther I''d go before they caught me.


    I was on the brink of turning back, hungry and thirsty, then I saw it. A cabin was ahead, perched at the edge of the world where land met sea, almost swallowed by the darkness if not for the light in the window and the shimmery curl of smoke from a crooked chimney.


    I walked towards it, each step uncertain. There was a stranger in that house. They could be better or worse than the one I was escaping from.


    I didn''t have an invitation, and trouble was surely close behind. I had no plan or grand design, just instincts I didn''t think I had anymore.


    Get away. Get away. Get away.


    Even now, they screamed at me. But I was here, and my feet had carried me as far as they could go.


    My hand trembled as I raised it to knock.


    I didn''t deserve help, did I?


    He''d punish, and I''d deserve it and them with me.


    The door creaked open before I could run into the darkness.


    A woman stood there. She was old in a way I didn''t know mages could get¡ªwithered with silver threaded through her brows and hair, but her eyes were sharp. She looked me up and down before she said, "you look cold," stepping out of the way.


    I stepped into that house that wasn''t the least bit inviting my soul sighing.


    Inside smelled of salt, wood smoke, and herbs, like dried thyme and rosemary. The low flicker of candlelight made the shadows stretch long across the uneven wooden walls¡ªdifferently sized and colored beams of wood stacked together like they shouldn''t stay standing. A small hearth sat against the farthest wall, a modest fire crackling inside, throwing just enough warmth to dispel the chill.


    The old woman moved slowly, hobbling across the room, setting a kettle over the flames¡ªthe metal clinked, breaking the silence as she worked.


    I blinked. Her presence was steady, unshaken, as if she''d expected company tonight. That thought flickered--


    "Mint or green?" she asked.


    "Mint," I said, my voice coming out hoarse and different from my usual soft tone.


    I moved to the table, already sitting before it crossed my mind to ask. I couldn''t help glancing around, searching for a source of my unease. The front wall had a window and door; the back had the hearth with a single worn couch¡ªthe seat sunken with time, and a low table with a basket filled with yarn; the left had shelves lined with jars, their contents unknown, appearing cloudy in the low light; the right was blank save for a dream catcher hanging over a bed. Over the single beam that ran the length of the cabin hung a tattered, finishing net just as much hemp as cobwebs, as if hung there and forgotten.


    Everything about the cabin felt lived-in, practical, and untouched by extravagance.


    And yet...


    Something felt off. It wasn''t obvious¡ªsomething I couldn''t place, and I was half convinced my tired mind was playing tricks on me.


    Was she waiting for someone else?


    The old woman hobbled over, poured hot water into a chipped, handless mug, and placed it in front of me. "The sea brought you here," she said, her voice steady, neither kind nor mean. "It does that sometimes, only for those who need it."


    I hesitated before wrapping my fingers around the mug, letting the heat seep into my skin. "The sea doesn''t bring people anywhere," I said.


    The woman fixed her tea and gave a small, knowing smile. "Is that so?" The night was quiet except for the frequent crash of waves, but the woman turned, cocking her ear, as if listening to something.


    "The sea takes," I said, my voice quieter, unsure what I was saying or why. "More than it gives."


    The old woman hummed. "Then perhaps you''re here to see what''s left behind."


    I shuddered, pulling the edges of my robe together. Something unseen was watching. I''d felt that all the way here, but only realized it now.


    I glanced at the woman opposite me, but she was calm and unbothered, and the feeling passed as if confirming it was my imagination.


    Still, I didn''t look at the door, as if it would crash open and he''d be standing there.


    I was tired. That was all.


    The warmth of the tea settled into my stomach, but the knots tightened.


    The woman watched¡ªnot intently, not like a predator¡ªI knew that look, but like the wise women from the tribe who told stories around the fire with the patience of someone who knew people and knew when not to ask questions.


    The wax melted with the flickering flame, and neither of us spoke. Exhaustion pressed at the edges of my mind, and the warmth of the tea soothed, but I couldn''t relax.


    Perhaps you''re here to see what''s left behind.


    "What do you mean?" I asked, cursing my curiosity.


    Her gaze was distant. "The sea doesn''t just steal. It carries things along. It returns things, too. Brings in the lost and leaves them on the shore for whoever''s left behind."


    I imagined a wreckage washed up on the sand.


    It seemed impossible. The ship I traveled on here was large and imposing, riding stormy waves like a knight on his steed, in control and unyielding. But at the edge, the image of broken wood, shattered glass, and things that had no business in water crept in.


    I imagined waves carrying things back, indifferent to whether someone wanted them, apathetic to who they were taken from.


    Who was the sea and who was the trash in this metaphor?


    Who was the collector shifting through the rubbish?


    "I''m not something washed up," I said from that place deep inside where I stored the last bits of myself.


    She gave me a look. it made me feel like a child, charging around the Duchy, insisting on things I knew weren''t true.


    I''d come here without thinking, carried by the tide and desperation. I''d stepped through this woman''s door because there was nowhere else to go, no one else to take her in, uncaring of what would come.


    That thought flickered again, but I couldn''t hold on to it¡ªthe truth of her words tearing at me.


    It was a year before he found me, and for the year after that I wished every day that I hadn''t run¡ªno peace, no freedom was worth it.


    As I sat in my gilded cage and thought of that old woman, I wondered if I''d escaped at all.

 Chapter 28 - Franklin

    The tension in the dining room was thick and choking.


    No one touched their food.


    My father, ever composed, held his glass high, waiting.


    Typhon followed, his smile deepening.


    Zagan was next, with a roll of his eyes. The disrespect went unchecked.


    The librarian, Franklin, Lord Amber¡ªmy great-uncle lifted his glass, dumped it on the floor, and set it face down on the table.


    My mouth dropped open. The glass that was half raised froze mid-air.


    Tracey gasped. Her hands, as unsteady as mine, spilled some of the red liquid on her fingers.


    The Duchess snapped her fan closed before lifting her glass, smiling at her husband.


    Selena mirrored her mother.


    Bastien, calm, portraying the picture of indifference, raised his glass.


    We all stood while one man remained seated.


    "To loyalty," the Duke said.


    There it was again¡ªthat word¡ªlike he''d peered into my mind and peeked at a secret. It crawled over my skin and made it feel too tight, caged in a way that had nothing to do with walls.


    I glanced at my great-uncle. He radiated uncooperative silence, and his relationship with the Duke seemed contentious, but silence could mean many things. It could be safety, but it could just as easily mean betrayal.


    The family, the main members¡ªthose in on the secret, acted like they didn''t notice Franklin''s actions.


    I sat. The scent of meat wafted towards me. All over again, I couldn''t breathe.


    The fire. My¡ªMilly''s scream. Blackened skin and the smoke.


    I swallowed hard, my hand pressing against my stomach.


    "You look unwell," the Duchess said, a hint of amusement in her voice.


    I felt the weight of everyone''s gaze. I knew it was on purpose. With the room sealed room, where would wind come from? I''d waited for the test, relieved when it happened, but burning anger boiled through me.


    I forced my head to me, dropping and shaking from side to side.


    "Not hungry?" Selena asked with concern, regaining her confidence.


    I was glad I was the unifying factor that allowed them to find their footing.


    I didn''t answer.


    The Duke''s gaze lingered, and then, satisfied, he turned his attention to Typhon. "You''ve served the family for many years," he said, sipping his drink. "I hope you and your son will continue to do so."


    Typhon dipped his head. "I''ll think about it, my lord. I''ve gotten old, and I''m looking forward to my retirement."


    "That is my intention, my lord," Zagan said, his attention on me more often than not.


    The Duke picked up his knife, and the others followed suit. I''d never had an appetite, and my stomach wouldn''t allow me to fake eating. Still, I forced myself to pick up my knife, my hands unsteady.


    "She made a mess in my library, and I expect her to fix it. And take the blasted roast off the table. William must have dropped you on the head if you think this nonsense is acceptable." He wasn''t talkative, but made an impact when he spoke. "Typhon you''ll serve the mangy one at the end of the table¡ªthe one with the pink hair¡ªat least then some of my books will find the right shelf. Zagan, you''ll serve the other mangy one at the end of the table. Maybe you can curb her wild ambitions before she gets in trouble."


    The meal was tense, only the sound of cutlery breaking the silence.


    Franklin seemed unaware of the storm he''d cause, eating with relish.


    The Duke sat stone-faced, his jaw working, causing a muscle to jump in his cheek.


    I ate small bites, the food tasting like ash, regretting and grateful I''d taken a fasting pill.


    The roast was gone, but my stomach hadn''t settled. I wasn''t sure it ever would. Anxiety had taken over as the cause of my upset, though the smell lingered, clinging to the linens and mind.


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    Franklin hadn''t betrayed me, but this would attract the eyes of the Kala Tribe.


    I''d have to see how he treated me before deciding if I needed to share another secret, a larger one.


    I knew his wording was an excuse for the family, but they wouldn''t tolerate any kindness.


    "You look pale," the Duke said, no doubt attributing to my fear of what was to come at the hands of Franklin. Well, he wasn''t totally convinced, watching carefully.


    My hand paused, twirling the fork. I hadn''t touched the dinner knife, never did, and shouldn''t start now, but my fingers twitched towards it, craving the illusion of safety it would bring.


    "Perhaps she''s unwell," Zagan said, his tone playful. He turned sparkling eyes towards me, bright and far too focused.


    "She has a match," the Duke said, sounding¡ªdisappointed...


    Zagan only smiled, turning back to his meal.


    The Duke exhaled, making an odd sound halfway between a laugh and a sigh. "Eat," he said, gesturing towards my plate.


    I hesitated for too long.


    "Is there something else disagreeable on the table? Have I served something else you deem unfit?"


    I didn''t understand before something on my plate caught my eye. My hand threatened to rise, jerking before I forced it back onto the table. "No,"  said.


    The demand settled like lead in my stomach, heavy as a hand on the back of my neck.


    Roast sat on my plate, hidden among the carrots and Brussels sprouts.


    Ah, there it was, the expected cruelty. However, Selena was usually the one who engaged in this sort of pettiness. My fingers tightened around my fork.


    It was punishment for the librarian humiliating him. I could eat it now, or risk finding a plate waiting in my room¡ªthat might happen, anyway.


    I speared the meat, unable to stop my mind from linking this to my son''s flesh. The juices pooled, bubbling from where the fork wounded it, and the scent curled and burrowed into my lungs.


    My stomach twisted.


    I raised the bite.


    I couldn''t get my mouth to open, a tear streaming down my face.


    I gagged.


    Just get through it. Get it over with.


    I brought it closer, holding my breath...


    Then there was a sound¡ªsomeone moved¡ªjust slightly, but it was enough. The chair creaked, and my father''s gaze snapped away, a flicker of irritation crossing his face.


    It was enough.


    I shoved the fork toward my face, touching it to my lips where I used the contact to put it into the system''s storage¡ªbut it wasn''t enough and too much.


    The texture was too soft, too wet, yet somehow sticky. There was no blood¡ªthe meat thoroughly cooked, but I could smell the heavy metal tang of blood and the acidic stench of piss. I knew what it would taste like. I had memories of that, but what I''d eaten before and what my mind associated it with now melted into one. The texture clung to my teeth, erasing the mint, staining so deep I''d never be free.


    My stomach twisted.


    My body turned, heaving, and what little I ate ended up on the floor.


    "That''s new," Selena said. "Is she pregnant?"


    ***


    I lay in bed, face covered with a damp cloth.


    The sickness rolled through me, similar again to seasickness but different, worse in ways I couldn''t explain¡ªa deep testing nausea, sharp and relentless, lingering out of malice that had nothing to do with the meat but everything to do with the mind.


    No water or sweet dispelled it.


    No remedy pill eased its effects.


    I curled onto my side, swallowing the bile. My stomach had nothing left to give. I pressed my head into the pillow¡ªthat musty, mildew smell rose to greet me.


    My body couldn''t stop shaking.


    A war raged inside me¡ªmind vs body, reality vs imagination. There would be no winners.


    Cathrine stood close, more for her presence than to offer any help. She''d done her best: wiping my brow with a damp cloth, feeding me water, and trying to distract me.


    I wanted to rest. "Fill the bath." This would be my second for the night, but I couldn''t stand the stickiness that coated me.


    She didn''t speak. She hadn''t said a word since we left the dining room. I wasn''t sure why, but I was grateful for the silence. I didn''t know the type of person I''d be if we spoke now.


    I sank into the warm water, not even flinching as my head slipped beneath the water. There were no sounds except that watery thump¡ªthe muffled, rustling gurgle.


    I broke water, gasping, my stomach revolting, but quieter, drowned out by the racing, panicked thump of my heart.


    I didn''t linger, rising and shrugging on my night-chemises.


    As I sat at the vanity, Cathrine reaching for the towel to dry my hair--there was a knock at the door.


    My heart stuttered to a stop before picking up an erratic beat.


    The knock came again, and I wanted to ignore it. I wanted to follow the plan and crawl into bed.


    My eyes glanced over.


    Would they drag me out? I wondered.


    Cathrine''s gaze met mine, the question clear ''Should I answer?''


    I opened my mouth, but couldn''t force the words out any more than I could force the meat in. I nodded with a resigned sigh.


    Cathrine squared her shoulders and took a steadying breath, looking every part the young girl I kept confusing with her older self. She walked to the door and pulled it open.


    My breath hitched, my eyes glued to the widening crack.


    I watched Cathrine''s back, trying to guess what she saw¡ªmaids? A giant plate of meat?


    She didn''t look tense.


    Time was the same, but it seemed to slow, the words reaching me through a layer of water, blurred and distorted.


    "Mss."


    "Mi"


    A hand grabbed my shoulder, giving me a firm shake. "Miss, it''s the priest."


    I blinked, the words taking a moment to filter through the fog as my mind struggled to process them. "Priest?" I asked.


    Cathrine''s eyes were shifty as she glanced at the two men in the room¡ªtwo men my mind had ignored, seen through as if they weren''t there. A breath swooshed out of me, my shoulders sagging.


    "They''re here to--" A blush stained her cheeks and her eyes wouldn''t meet mine.


    "Oh," I said, annoying myself. I sounded inane and vapid, not unlike what I was at this age, and not unlike the character I was portraying, but it was a different thing entirely when it was, by choice, an act, and not this bumbling panic-stricken mess. "I''m not," I said when their eyes drifted to my stomach.


    I wasn''t sure Catherine and Typhon believed, but the priest, another new one, his tabard blank, looked skeptical.


    Why are there so many priests?


    "We''ll know for sure after I check," he said, as if certain of his findings.


    The priest unholstered his wand, waving it over me, drawing raised eyebrows from the chamber''s other occupants. Typhon crossed his hands, his smile taking on a shark-like quality.


    "Results?" I asked, wanting him gone.


    He sniffed. "You''re not pregnant, but there are some minor ailments." He took out a potion¡ªmost likely from a storage ring¡ªuncorked it and handed it to me. "Drink so I can check the effectiveness."


    I didn''t need to guess what was inside. And this time, I couldn''t escape.


    I grabbed the vial, knocking back the liquid.