They’d camped in the field, after burying their dead and the enemy dead. The Traditionalists had fled, not even bothering to pack up their camp and so their was plenty of loot to be had. Elizabeth didn’t stop her soldiers. They needed the supplies, the gold to buy more supplies, and the weapons and arms for the war ahead. She did insist that the bodies were to buried. A final consolation to soothe the guilt in her heart.

Ayax and Ginger had stayed with her for most of the evening, insisting on forcing her to eat dinner until she’d made them leave. It’d taken Ayax several minutes of persuading until she finally relented, thanks to Elizabeth promising that Ayax could stay the night with her.

And so Elizabeth sat alone in her tent, on her bedroll, staring at the canvas sheet, feeling like there was a cold, hard rock in her chest.

“Can I come in?” said a female voice. Elizabeth frowned, and opened her tent flap to reveal Jessica, dressed in a simple yellow dress.

“Jess… what are you doing here?” Elizabeth asked.

The scarred former bully took a deep breath and knelt on the ground. “I… I have something to tell you. I… I know you blame yourself, but… you need to know why this happened. I’m not going to tell you that it wasn’t your fault, but you need to hear this.”

Elizabeth hesitated. Something about how Jessica had said it rang true. Maybe it was how she knelt in front of the tent. Maybe it was her bowed head, but Elizabeth nodded.

Jessica crawled into the tent and sat up, looking around with narrowed eyes.

“What’s up?” Elizabeth asked, making herself comfortable.

“Nothing. I just… I thought you’d take a larger tent. You could afford it after all and you’re… well you’re the commander of the Lightning Battalion,” said Jessica. She blinked. “You don’t mean… is this all you have?”

“Kind of. I have quite a bit of money in an Erlenberg bank, but I don’t… own much. I… My friends and I have been on the road for some time, and anytime we need anything, our friends provide it willingly.” Elizabeth mused on how her mentor Igraine still sent her new gear and clothing. “I know I’ve been lucky, I know that. Frances… she knew people and introduced me to my mentor. But these things never really mattered to me.”

Jessica ran her fingers through her hair. “That’s… that’s good of you, Liz.” She took a deep breath. “Is it because of… of what you believe in?”

“I think so. I don’t think I’m unique in being a good person, but praying to God, thinking about how I can make him proud and following his commandments have served me well. I mean, they’re mostly quite practical,” said Elizabeth. She pursed her lips. “Love your neighbour, as you love yourself. If I followed that better today… maybe we wouldn’t have fought.”

“No. I think you needed to kill him. Daniel was going to kill you. This war…” Jessica touched her scar. “This war’s been hard. I know it’s been harder on you, Frances and your friends, but… fighting off Alavari raiding parties, helping in the larger campaigns… the cycle of just being bored out of our minds, and then fighting for our lives… it’s jarring.”

Elizabeth grimaced. “That doesn’t explain why so many wanted to support Earl Darius and Janize. I mean, did nobody pay attention back in Socials? They’re fighting a war of extermination.”

Jessica snorted. “You know as well as I do that Socials could be dead boring. It depended on the teacher. I heard you had Mr. Veslavic. He was a good teacher. But many of us had Mr. Ladonar, who bored us to death. Besides… I don’t think they see it as a war of extermination,” said the former bully.

The blonde swallowed. “We… All we were told by the instructors that trained us was that the Alavari are monsters. We learned about their culture, their ways of thinking, but with the sole purpose of killing them, of seeing how different they are from us. And well, all we saw thanks to fighting them was how different they were, and how they wanted to kill us. If they did find out we were Otherworlders… they wanted to kill us faster.”

“But… if you talked to them, talked to the prisoners, or even I don’t know, just thought about it—”

“Liz, not everybody was born with a heart as good as yours. You see the good in everybody, and more importantly, you acted on it. You only acted to kill Daniel when he showed you that you had no choice.” Jessica sighed. “Hell, you even let me join, after all I’ve done to Frances.”

Elizabeth frowned. “Jess… I… I understand what you’re saying, but you know everybody has a choice, right? Being good… maybe there’s something genetic about it, maybe it’s in how we grew up, but I think that we also have a choice.” She looked up, meeting Jesscia’s gaze. “I mean, if you were born to be a bully, then why did you try to stop Leila? How could you have chosen to try to do the right thing?”

The scarred blonde blinked, and frowned. She opened her mouth, closed it and didn’t say anything for several long seconds.

“Maybe we did have a choice. One thing’s for sure, though, the Otherworlders that chose to join Janize and Darius… there were circumstances that influenced their choice. Many of them, like Daniel, Leila… they were skilled fighters and mages but they were never given the control they thought they deserved. And they thought they deserved that control because we were all isolated. People… people in Durannon treat us like aliens. Nobody really gets us, or bothers to learn about our world. They think we’re strange at the least, at the worst they don’t trust us at all.”

Elizabeth nodded. It had been a long time since she was treated like that but she remembered Master Scarlet, the acerbic and horrible Red Order Mage that had instructed them. Moreover, she could still remember the suspicion Earl Darius had regarded her and Frances at Kwent.

“I know. I was lucky because Martin and Frances became my friends. They… they helped introduce me to Durannon, and just how beautiful this place is,” said Elizabeth sadly.

“It is a beautiful place, isn’t it?” Jessica mused, smiling. “But anyway… when you combine all of that, the isolation, the frustration, the constant suspicion and the back and forth of the war… and well, those that chafed under authority and who couldn’t see the Alavari as anything other than inhuman monsters… well, it’s not so hard to understand it then, right?”

“No.” Inside, though, Elizabeth still couldn’t believe it. Oh she was persuaded by Jessica and knew her peer was correct. She just couldn’t accept that her old classmates would fall so far. Some hadn’t, like Nicole, Jim and somehow Jessica, but others had and she couldn’t understand how they thought, even if she knew the reasons for why.

“Jessica, what changed your mind?” Elizabeth asked.

The former bully closed her eyes. “I… I was locked in a duel with an enemy mage. A centaur. He gave me this scar trying to kill me. Well, anyhow, we both tumbled off a cliff and landed at the bottom. I’d mortally wounded him, but I couldn’t move much either. So… we just talked and talked… and I held his hand as he passed.”

Jessica wiped her eyes. “I didn’t even know his name. He never told me it, but I know he had a family, a son, and a wife. I know he loved them both. I also know he even had an affair that he suspected his wife knew about, and he regretted not apologizing to her so much. He… he was as human, or human-like as me and I… I killed him. I couldn’t treat Alavari the same after that. It was too much. I still see his face.”

“I’m sorry,” Elizabeth whispered.

“Don’t be. I… I deserved that, and worse. I… I bullied Frances because it was fun. Because she was weird and in a sick way, I thought that she deserved it for being a stinky strange brat. I was just so full of myself I didn’t see what I was doing,” Jessica whispered.

Elizabeth swallowed, biting back her anger by holding the image of the forlorn look on Jessica’s face in her mind. She took a deep breath. “What about Leila? What… what was she talking about when she mentioned her parents.”

The question caused a flash of sorrow and confusion to flash across Jessica’s face. Unable to meet her gaze, the blonde girl turned away. “Leila… she never had the best of relationships with her parents. It wasn’t like that. But… she was very resentful of them. They kept asking her to do better at school, to do better at her extracurriculars like Taekwondo. I… I don’t think they ever made time for her, though, or tried to talk to her about her anger issues.”

A cold feeling pooled in the pit of Elizabeth’s stomach. “What do you mean by anger issues?”

“Like what you saw today. She’s… she’s normally quite pleasant to be around. But sometimes she just… gets really angry and just… wants to break things.” Staring at the tent canvas, Jessica’s shoulder sagged. “I… I thought that given the pressure of her parents that it was just normal. A part of her. But lately… this year especially, it’s just been really hard to be around her. She’s just so angry and frustrated, so eager to fight, while I just wanted to be alone and be angry at myself in peace.”

Jessica blinked and covered her mouth. Elizabeth waved her hand. “I didn’t hear that and I won’t tell, but… you should talk to someone you trust about this. And… I know I can’t be that someone.”

“You can’t?” Jessica whispered. For a second, the desperate, hopeful note in the other girl’s voice made Elizabeth hesitate.

And then she remembered this was the girl who’d bullied her best friend, and had only now, after so long, realized she’d been wrong. The simmering undercurrent of rage returned and Elizabeth shook her head.

“You bullied Frances. You and I… you’ve never done anything bad to me personally, but I can’t forget what you did. I’m sorry.”

Jessica’s face fell, and she closed her tear-filled eyes. But then… she smiled, a broken, and yet grateful smile.

“Liz… it’s alright. I’m… I’m happy we talked. Thank you for just… listening.”

Elizabeth smiled sadly. “I’m happy we talked too.”

And she meant it. She knew she couldn’t help Jessica, but that didn’t mean she wasn’t glad the former bully was in a better place. And besides… she could always ask someone to watch over her old classmate.

----------------------------------------

“You feeling better, Liz?” Ginger asked that morning at their shared campfire. The chilly fall morning meant that even this early in the day, fires had to be lit for warmth.

Elizabeth, one hand holding onto Ayax’s, thought to herself, and nodded. “Yes. I’ve scheduled an appointment with Renia for later, but I’ve been feeling better.”

“You… do you still think it was your fault?” Martin asked, a little more pointedly, but in a gentle voice.

“A little, but I… I also don’t know what I could have done better. I had a talk with Jessica last night and she gave me some perspective.” Elizabeth pursed her lips. “Where do you think we should put her? She doesn’t really get along with any of my former classmates.”

“Hmm, put her with our Erlenbergian cavalrymen. We need a mage to support them anyway,” said Ayax. She arched an eyebrow. “That is… if we have the authority to? I mean, who are the Otherworlders answering to at the moment?”

“Well, until we get further clarification from Earl Forowena… me, at the moment,” said Elizabeth.

“Wait, seriously?” Ginger asked.

“Yes. We had a call with Earl Forowena this morning,” said Martin. “She was disturbed by how many Otherworlders had defected, but was happy we managed to get the largest group. She also told us where we’re heading next.”

“Which is?” Ayax asked.

“Salpheron,” said Elizabeth grimly. “We’re going to be harassing the army besieging Edana and the White Order until Darius is forced to turn away.”

A quiet, forbidding silence fell over the group as they processed that news.

A case of content theft: this narrative is not rightfully on Amazon; if you spot it, report the violation.

“How big was Earl Darius’s army again?” Ginger inquired softly.

“About thirteen thousand, including mages,” said Martin.

“We’re going to have to be very careful. It’s going to be slow, careful and stressful work,” said Elizabeth. She turned to Ayax. “Love… do you think you’re ready to face him?”

“I’m going to have to. How long do we need to get there?” Ayax asked.

“Three weeks to a month. We could get there in a week, but we’re not immediately heading there. Earl Forowena’s tasked me with assembling a larger force.” The Korean girl took a deep breath, wondering briefly how she should announce this. “The Lightning Battalion is being recommissioned as a full regiment. Igraine’s rangers are returning to Leipmont, but we’re to either recruit, or procure another six hundred infantry and cavalry before we head out.”

“It’ll be a tall order, but once we’re done, we can then harass Darius’s army with a lot more security,” said Martin grimly. “I’m already writing up a request to Conthwaite and my mothers to send a hundred experienced cavalry.”

“I… I have some veteran pals who might be interested in joining up,” said Ginger, scratching her head.

“And I can write to Grandmother Eleanor in Erlenberg and my father Alex,” said Ayax.

“Nicole and Jim’s informed us that the Earl is sending a hundred knights to us too, so we really only need to find five hundred.” Elizabeth grinned. “But every bit helps. Thanks everybody.”

Martin, Ginger and Ayax smiled. They were determined, if not entirely joyful, but Elizabeth was once again, eternally grateful she had such good friends by her side.

Of course, there was one missing from the group in front of her.

“I hope Frances is doing alright,” said Martin suddenly, his smile fading.

“I hope so too. Cuz is strong, though,” said Ayax.

Elizabeth nodded. She knew her missing best friend, miles away, would survive, and yet she couldn’t help feel worried.

Ginger waved a hand. “Ah, don’t you worry your pretty heads. I bet she’s having the time of her life being pampered by her prince.”

Elizabeth thought of Timur and giggled. Yeah, she could definitely see that happening.

----------------------------------------

In Alavaria…

In some ways, Frances’s friends were right to think that she was being pampered by her prince. Although she’d been partially healed, the young mage wasn’t at full strength. Most of the time she rested in the cart, ordered to by her boyfriend and also convinced by just how tired she felt.

They were, however, equally correct to be worried for the pair. Patrols along the road were frequent and once or twice, the pair were questioned by curious guards. So far, they’d had no problems, even though things had gotten tense.

What Frances’s friends hadn’t quite considered was the pair going through something most couples did after the first few weeks, a period of adjustment.

About two weeks after they’d seen Jane the healer, Frances was sitting up on the cart, putting her hands on her hips.

“Timur, you need to stop mixing all your clothes together,” she hissed.

The prince, dressed in a mish-mash of the clothing he’d brought along, huffed, his eyes on the road, hands gripping the reins to the horses.

“It’s easier to keep them in one sack.”

It was an old disagreement they’d been having and Frances was quite tired of her boyfriend brushing it off, and by the tone in her boyfriend’s voice.

“You’re mixing up your dirty and your clean clothing, and getting all the different sets jumbled. I mean… look, I know we’re just travelling but you could stand to organize things a bit better.”

Timur glanced over his shoulder. “And as you mentioned, we’ve been on the road for a while Almost three weeks in fact, Frances. None of our clothes are particularly clean and so there’s no real point to organizing our clothing.”

“It’s always good to keep one good—”

The trogre frowned. “Wait, Frances.”

“What?” she demanded.

“Horse hooves ahead. It’s another patrol,” Timur pulled his thick overcoat tighter around himself and checked that his newly acquired wand, a cheaply made, roughly varnished stick, was hidden underneath his jacket. Meanwhile, Frances slipped herself back underneath a growing mound of blankets. Her once white mage robes had been partially dyed in shades of a far less conspicuous green and brown. She didn’t want to test the rushed dye job against a trained eye, though. The dye job didn’t hide the armored plates sewn underneath the robes.

Underneath her blankets Frances watched over the cart’s edge. The approaching horsemen were a group of Alavari clad in winter clothing and lightly armed with pistols and sabers. There were ten in total, a centaur, some trolls or ogres and an orc leading the group.

“Hello! Cold morning we’re having today isn’t it?” Timur asked. Frances smiled despite herself. She could only see the back of Timur’s head, but she could easily imagine her boyfriend putting on his brightest grin.

“Yes. If it gets any colder it might just start snowing,” said the orc squad leader. He pulled the scarf he wrapped around his face down. “Who are you and where are you heading?”

This wasn’t the first patrol Frances and Timur had had to lie their way past. Every successive encounter had been tense, but they’d somehow got through every time, and their cover stories ever the more better.

“I’m Theo Greyland. The woman in the cart is my wife, Tia Windlass. We’re moving deeper into Alavaria. The border provinces aren’t safe anymore and we thought we’d find a safer place, maybe in Minaira,” said Timur.

The orc arched an eyebrow. “Oh, you haven’t heard? Minaira’s an utter mess. The king’s started a crackdown in the capital and instituted a curfew. There are riots and fires in the streets and hundreds of rebels hanging from the gallows.”

“I don’t know about that, captain, most of them were probably innocent,” said the centaur. “I mean, everybody’s talking about what the king did to Prince Teutobal.”

“Quiet, Eps, that’s treasonous talk, don’t let anybody hear you saying that,” said the orc. He turned back to Timur and Frances, eyeing them. “Look, it’s… it’s a messed up situation there. You don’t want to go there.”

Timur didn’t reply. He sat there, quite still. He was so still that Frances quickly piped up.

“Dear, maybe we can stop in Nairolen, see what we can find there?”

Timur started and as he turned to meet Frances’s eye, she could see that he was just barely holding it together.

“Of course,” he stammered, turning to smile at Frances. “Anything you want, F-dear.”

To Frances’s growing worry, the orc captain seemed to stare. His dark eyes flicking between Frances and Timur. “Hmm, what do you do for a living Mrs. Tia and Master Theo?”

“I’m a cartographer,” said Timur.

Frances took a deep breath. “I’m a mage, but of only minor talent, captain…?”

“Captain Aloudin, 28th Cavalry Regiment.” Aloudin reached to his belt and drew a wand from where it was hidden underneath his travelling cloak. “I’m also a mage. Pardon my curiosity, but you said you were of minor talent only?”

She knew she was tensing up. She also could see Timur stiffening, and yet Frances forced herself to remain calm. Still, she didn’t take her eyes off the captain, and his soldiers, who were all eyeing the interaction with growing suspicion.

What had Captain Aloudin noticed? What had the orc seen when they’d already passed several patrols and nobody had noticed anything?

“Yes. I am but a healer,” said Frances slowly.

Captain Aloudin slowly pointed his wand at Timur. “Hmm, Mrs. Tia… do you mind stepping off this cart, away from your husband and putting your wand down? I know this trogre isn’t a cartographer. He’s a noble of some sort. I can think of only one reason a noble would be travelling in disguise in the middle of a civil war.”

Frances clenched her fists. Under her blanket, one of her hands seized Ivy’s Sting as the soldiers around them quickly drew their sabers and pistols.

Raising his hands, Timur spluttered, “What are you talking about good sir—”

“I used to be a Royal Guard at the palace in Minaira until I got promoted. That’s a silk shirt you’re wearing underneath that velvet vest. Both are stained with dust, but how would a commoner get their hands on such fine clothing in decent condition?” Aloudin demanded. He shrugged. “True, you may have stolen it, but in that case you’re thieves, or at the very least, suspicious. So weapons out and down.”

Frances grimaced as Timur’s shoulders sagged, his tail lying flat against the cart seat. “Oh fuck me.”

“I don’t swing that way. Now put that wand of yours down ‘Master Theo,’ and any other weapons,” Aloudin ordered.

“No, you put your weapons down.”

All eyes, including that of Timur’s and Aloudin’s shot to Frances, who’d stood up, still wrapped in blankets. She dropped them, revealing the wand in her right hand and a shining diamond ring in the other.

“I’m Frances Stormcaller, the Firehand’s Daughter, though some of you know me as Erlenberg’s Vengeance. Put your weapons down and I will let you live. If you don’t, then die, like so many Alavari before you.”

Timur gasped, “Frances, what are you—”

“Captain Aloudin! What is your answer?” Frances demanded, pointing her wand at the wide-eyed orc, allowing just a bit of her magic to flow. The power tickled her hair and every person there shivered as if there was a chill in the air.

Still, Captain Aloudin stood his ground. Frances almost could have admired the captain’s determination and demeanor, if he wasn’t pointing his wand at her.

“Even if you are the Stormcaller, and I doubt that, am I expected to believe you could kill all of us?”

As tired as she still felt, it was frighteningly easy for Frances to tap into the anger she felt and let the captain get a hint of it.

“I fought King Thorgoth and survived. You don’t stand a chance against me!”

Thunk. Eyes turned to see the centaur called “Eps,” throwing her lance and pistol to the ground. Her blue eyes were wide, and filled with fear. “Captain! Don’t! T—that is the Stormcaller! I remember her from Erlenberg! She killed thousands of Alavari and that was two years ago!”

Aloudin grimaced, “Are you sure?”

“Of course! I was in Helias’s army—” The centaur’s mouth shut and she froze.

In Frances’s vision, everything seemed to blur, except for the horrified centaur. The cold, seething anger had returned.

“You were with General Helias’s army?” she hissed.

‘Eps’ bent her front legs in what for a centaur was kneeling, hands upraised. “Mercy, please. I… the general… he threatened us…”

Frances saw a soldier raise their pistol. A sharp cry, and a whip of Ivy’s Sting and she tore all the pistols out from the hands of the cavalrymen. Aloudin attempted to speak a Word of Power, but she threw the pistols into his face. A sharp bolt of magic knocked him off his horse and in another moment, she seized his wand and disarmed him.

Taking a deep breath, she glared at the centaur. “You killed them! You massacred them!”

“I know! I know and I’m sorry. I’m so sorry. Please, don’t hurt me!” the centaur begged.

Frances couldn’t move. Her heart pounded, and yet she stood, her wand pointing at the sobbing centaur. Nobody else said a word.

Until a stammering voice cut in.

“Frances, dear, lower your wand please,” said Timur, standing up on the cart.

“And let her go?” Yet, Frances could hear the quivering in her voice. She didn’t know why she was hesitating. She was so angry. Here was another of the wretched soldiers Helias had led to Erlenbergy. A part of the army that had massacred three hundred civilians, innocent families and their children, just to try to break the home of her adoptive grandmother. The place where her dear mother had once called home. A place that had accepted her, and where she’d met her friend and cousin, Ayax.

Helias, that half-centaur half-troll general, had tried to destroy that place and unlike General Antigones, he’d been more than willing to kill those not fighting, simply because they were human, or helping humans.

So why was she hesitating? Why did she feel sick to her stomach? Why did she feel she wanted to drop her wand and bury her face in her hands?

Timur gently reached out and Frances, not knowing why, let him grasp her free hand. “Frances, dear, you don’t want to do this. You don’t hurt people who surrender.”

“She took part in that massacre! She murdered children! She can’t go unpunished!” Frances cried. Why was she crying? Was this some stupid part of her emotions just deciding to hit her over the head?

“I know! I don’t know what to do either, but I know you don’t want to kill her. So please, listen to yourself!” Timur begged. Before Frances could stop, he wrapped his arms around her.

Frances very nearly collapsed into his arms, sobbing. Only her awareness of the potential enemies around her kept her from just breaking down.

It was a good thing too, because as she leaned into Timur’s embrace, one of the soldiers reached for his sword. She raised Ivy’s Sting, her wand already telling her exactly what spell to use.

Only for Aloudin to cut across and seize the soldier’s wrist.

“Don’t be stupid!” he hissed. Looking up at Frances, he grimaced. “Everybody, sheathe your weapons! If the stories are true, and the Stormcaller is half as honorable as she is in them, we’ll be walking away with our lives today.”

Frances blinked as the soldiers uneasily sheathed their weapons. Wiping her eyes, she turned to a very much wide-eyed Timur.

“Frances, what do we do now?” her prince asked.

“I was going to ask you, Timur,” she stammered.

“Wait, Timur? Prince Timur?” ‘Eps’ looked up, her blue eyes wide. “Your Highness? Oh Galena, it is you.”

Letting go of Frances, but keeping hold of her hand, Timur frowned. “Do… do I know you from somewhere?”

Something clicked in Frances’s mind. No fucking way, she thought.

“It’s me… Epomonia, I…” The centaur, who just happened to be the ex-girlfriend of her boyfriend, started to laugh, while tears streamed down her cheeks. As frustrated as Frances felt at this very moment, she considered the centaur’s reaction rather appropriate.

After all, Frances was feeling just as frustrated, if not more.

“Epomonia? What… how…” Timur smiled, with pure, unadulterated relief, and then he glanced back at Frances. Maybe it was something on her face, but the prince’s expression transformed from joy to horror. Frances winced as Timur turned back to Epomonia. She did feel… jealous, and annoyed, but she’d done her best to let go of them. Maybe she still looked angry?

“Wait, you said… you took part in the Erlenberg Massacre? Why?”

Frances blinked. She didn’t expect her boyfriend to sound so broken, so distraught. A quick look and she realized that the look he was giving the teary-eyed centaur was one of grief, and disgust.

Aloudin helped Epomonia up. “Eps may have had a choice, Your Highness, but General Helias… he’s not just cruel to civilians. The culture of the forces he once commanded was toxic. Most soldiers were kept under a tight leash, treated not dissimilar to war boars or prized stallions. I didn’t work for him, but I came along with your brother to inspect his forces before. If you stepped out of line, the punishment tended to be… disproportionate.”

“My brother…” Timur’s eyes widened. “You knew my brother Teutobal?”

“Yes.” Aloudin met Timur’s eyes. “Tell me, Your Highness. Are the rumors true? Did your father order him killed?”

Timur nodded solemnly. “Yes. My friend Olgakaren, General Berengaria’s daughter, witnessed his final words in a recording crystal. She and Frances’s friends found it in the wreck of his ship off Keelbreaker Island.”

“Hmm, well, that’s settled then.” Aloudin drew his saber and presented it to Frances and Timur, hilt first. “Your Highness, consider me and my squad pledged to your service.”

One by one, the soldiers leapt off their horses and drew their weapons, presenting them hilt first.

Timur took a deep breath. “I…”

Frances cut in, her voice harsh and cold. “Hold on, you were literally just about to interrogate us for being rebels. How can we trust you?”

Timur closed his mouth, but suddenly brightened. “Wait, Frances, you can write magical contracts can’t you? Make it so that they can’t betray us.”

It was such a common sense solution that Frances found herself staring at her boyfriend.

“And why would they accept?” she stammered.

“I’ll accept. On behalf of my captain and squad, please!” Epomonia begged.

Aloudin sighed. “Eps, you don’t have to.”

“At least let me do something to make up for what I’ve done!” Epomonia begged.

Frances shut her eyes for a moment and raised her hand. “Alright alright! I’ll… I’ll write the contract for Epomonia.”

Timur smiled. “Thanks dear.”

That smile faded immediately, however, as Frances fixed him with a look. She wasn’t sure how she looked, but however she was glaring at her boyfriend, she was sure the exasperation, frustration and annoyance she felt at this very moment, showed.

“We’re going to have a talk about this.”