Ana attentively watches the ceiling, trying to distract herself from another episode involving the entirety of Quinn enveloping her. Such a fantasy was the very reason she found herself here now, after all.

If she only just finishes her job, done her duty as she should, then—“Ana!” A loud and defiant shout tinged in false cheer cuts her off.

Quinn enters with her charming smile, carefully placed to put people at ease around her, unless they’ve seen her true nature and know how wrong such a smile was from her.

Ana knew her smile, one only meant for her. It was smaller, but honest all the same, with bliss permeating from the whole of it that—again. “How do you find the locale, Ana?” Quinn’s voice stops her train of thought.

She has done this every time Quinn appears now. “I personally find them most enjoyable.” Distracting herself from the real and distant one. “Marcel from the kitchen just recommend me a small pond in the middle of a nearby forest.” As she busies being close to the one in her memories, frozen in the time when Quinn would—“She says it was the most beautiful at a late winter night such as this, do you care to join me this evening?” Randomly asked her out, exactly like that.

Ana raises her head to studies Quinn, her face a pure surprise at her own question, as if not expecting it to slip out of her mouth. But she’s not upset at it, she merely considers the space, her back against Ana like a wall to protect her.

Silence descent quickly through the room, not even the most obtuse would miss the implication hidden deep in her words, upon the offers she so cheerfully and sincerely has extended to Ana.

The guards held their weapons tighter, the spellcaster that accompanies them down here for a routine inspection on Ana’s chains cradles an invocation in hand, ready to throw it should Quinn stir.

While Quinn herself studies the three with a challenging smirk, edging them to attack first as she quietly feeds magical energy to her prosthetic arms, willing it to a function far crueler and arcane.

Ana knew violence are going to break out here, a violent that might be more to her benefit than to her detriment. However, just the potential of Quinn being injured in the altercation inspires her to action.

“Quinn,” she calls out, the woman instantly turning her entire head and body towards Ana in a countenance so soft that it hurts Ana for how much she wanted to reach out and holds it against her chest.

Sharing her pain, Quinn’s breathing grew heavy, the fall and rises of her breast irregular. It gave Ana hopes for a relationship she has so recently dashed by her own pigheadedness.

This time, though, no matter how convinced she was that it was foolish, how afraid she was of Quinn’s answer. “Do you hate me?” she asked, her tone proud to hide the trembling of her neck, thankful that she already sits down lest she slumps from losing all of her strength by voicing the question.

As if sensing the fear and hesitance in Ana’s question, Quinn planted her feet firmly to the ground. “I could never hate you, Ana,” she answers with conviction, shocking everyone in the cell but them.

The lack of reluctance in her sentence, the non-existence of pause on her reply, the vehemence and intimacy by which she said it. For a moment, there are only two of them in the room, inhabiting the world.

Then, the spell breaks as she hangs her head low in shame. “… would you say you love me, then?” she poses to the wind who are silent, for they knew it was not their response she wanted.

Unlawfully taken from Royal Road, this story should be reported if seen on Amazon.

The woman doesn’t hear her, though Ana can certainly feel her eye boring a hole into the back of her head with questions Ana are not sure even she can answer. For once since they meet, Ana prays Quinn goes away before she melts her.

And for once, the world grants her selfish prayer. “Well! After such a dramatic, I believe we are done for today!” Quinn says as she retreated and the guards follow, but not the spellcaster.

Ana can sense his presence on her cell still, inspecting her fully before he finally spoke. “Done?” His voice dripping with indignity. “You’ve gotten nothing from her! Done nothing to her but what? Flirt with her?” Like a parent scolding a child. “What do you mean, done!” A noble, lashing their peasants. “We are not done; it was impossible for us to be done without filling the Crown Prince’s wishes!”

It boils Ana’s blood, anger her beyond measure to be reminded of what kind of treatment her parents would receive, the type of desperation that drove them to give her up.

But, before she can even process what to do next. “Oh?” Quinn steps forward to challenge him. “What’s this? You’re questioning my judgment, then?” Her smile was playful, contrasted by the dangerous glint in her eye as she hides both of her hands behind her back.

Her body language sends shivers of fear down Ana’s spine, for it reminds her so much of their fight in her chamber. There, she was a venomous animal imperiled and has bitten back in self-defense.

Here and now, though, she was an ambush predator who just cornered her prey.

Clearly failing to notice this. “I dare say, I do, good Madame!” The man stood his ground, his noble soul burns bright in defiance to a threat from a mere snake, unfortunate that Quinn was no mere snake.

Ana opens her mouth once more, to call out to her and stop the situation from escalating, but it was too late.

In a flash, Quinn appears in front of the man, catching his throat on her left hand as it glows in a sinister purple, whirring violently; far louder than it was when she fights Ana. On the woman’s right, it was the same dagger that sparks panic in Ana—finely crafted—pressed against the man’s cheek.

Then, Quinn’s smile turns sadistic. “Admit that you’re a cravenly and dishonorable man.” As she whispers her demand. It stuns everyone in the room, the way her emotion so easily changes.

“Wha—what?”

“Admit that you’re foul and cowardly, sir,” she insists, drawing blood with her dagger while profane energy shoots out of her left hand and infects the man’s body, causing him to tremble in fear.

Ana finds it admirable that even in the face of an opponent far superior, who has managed to take control of one of his most vital organs. “I… I am… I am not—!” The man still has the bravery to disobey her.

Something that she erases by slamming his face against the old wall. The sound of bone cracked and flesh bruised caused Ana to flinch again and again until she finally looks away. “Admit! That! You! Are! A! Milksop! And! Repugnant!” Not daring to open her eyes even after the noise has stopped.

Shortly after. “I… I am… a repugnant milksop.” She can hear the man dejectedly repeat before the sound of his body falling to the cold hard floor echoes through the cell that now has become eerily silent but Quinn’s voice: “Eh! Good enough.”

Ana has heard that the woman was cruel. But no stories, not even the exaggeration could describe that temper of her. How does a person hold such anger in their heart? How could they live with it? What could’ve caused it?

As if reading her mind. “She’s mine, good sir.” Quinn answers her, though not directly. “Mine.” By the force of her voice, the threat crisp from it. “So please! Be kinder to yourself and learn your place, okay?” Before it returns to her usual false cheer.

She did it because of me? For my sake? The question heats her face, but she dares to raise it again and follow her movement when she claps her hands. “Good!” Gaining the attention of the guards. “Do bring our good man here to the infirmary, will you? He has repeatedly hit himself against the wall, a tragic accident, yes?” Giving them orders with the casualness of a woman born noble.

She even has the familiar concealed threat when they don’t respond fast enough: “Something that can surely be avoided, especially by two guards far wiser than him?” Quickly eliciting a resounding. “Yes!” From the two men.

As they go, Quinn makes to follow, but not before she stops, finally taking a look back, locking their orbs together once more.

To Ana, and for Ana alone, she offers a smile far smaller and more sincere alongside a wink. “I will see you tomorrow, Matriarch.” Promising her tomorrow, and Ana believed her.