Dear Brother,

Began the letter.

How fare you in the County? I hear the weather is never-not drab and damp, so I pray that you receive a sunny day soon. I hope that my new sister-in-law is treating you well.

Niklas scoffed aloud.

“Yes, most well, sister…” He said sarcastically as he shivered, recalling his torment in those dark and soggy dungeons.

Father remains stubborn as ever. I think he means to indefinitely hold off on sending your dowry. Worry not, for I shall pester and nag him every day–as he deserves–until the wagons depart!

To that he smiled warmly. Sister Frith had always been his guardian, in more ways than one. She would step between Niklas and his brothers when their bullying went too far, and she would also make sure that he was clothed and bathed and fed when the servants neglected to. Though she had no authority to fire those disrespectful maids, she could still lecture them harshly for their adherence to his Father’s neglect. Niklas had once witnessed his Eldest brother cut down a man twice his size in single combat, and yet in his mind he still held his sister as the utmost pinnacle of confidence and strength.

I hope that you are taking care of yourself. I noticed you had yet not fixed your habit of working late into the morning when you departed, and I would be loath to hear about you continuing that practice despite my most clear disapproval!

Now he sucked his breath in through his teeth as he read. “Here it comes..!” He murmured, steeling himself for a most cruel, albeit commonplace, lashing of tongues.

Indeed! As you left for your duty and marriage, if there was one comfort I could find, it was that Petrice is infamous for its lack of luxuries. Perhaps there you might have no choice but to partake of simple fares more inclined towards your health, rather than the greasy foods that are so easy to buy elsewhere.

Ah, now this was nostalgic. While it had only been a couple of weeks, to Niklas it now it felt it had been a lifetime since his esteemed sister had last berated him. Reading her words, he felt as if she was in that very room, looking upon him with her most infamous disapproving gaze–one that imparted such pressure it could crush boulders into dust!

He read on for a good deal more after that, as she viciously tore down everything from his clothing to his hair, his gait to his posture. By the time he reached the bottom of the parchment, his pride was in absolute tatters!

But really, everyone here is feeling your absence, even if pride does not allow them to show it. Do take good care of yourself and I look forward to the time when I can see you again!

Love and kisses!

-Frith van der Leigh

Niklas shuddered as he recalled her regular doting-which was, perhaps, worse than her chastisement–whereupon she would pull him into her unbreakable iron grasp and peck his face with kisses as though she were a bird and he had been doused in seeds.

But what did she mean by that? Everyone here is feeling your absence… He read over that phrase a few more times. Surely she was simply trying to keep his feelings in mind–there was no way his brothers or his father would feel anything but relief at finally being rid of him. That was, after all, exactly what they told Niklas every time they looked upon his lanky, diminutive form.

“I appreciate the sentiment at least…” He muttered with a smile, scratching his head. “I should write her back soon or she may worry for me. And if I do that to her, I fear for my survival after the arrival of her next letter!”

A small knocking came upon the door to his chambers then, just as he had finished reading this correspondence. Likely it was the old Butler bringing the tea that he had asked for!

“Coming!” he called as he rose to his feet from his seat by the fire.

“Honestly I know not how you can scale a place of this size in such little time-” He spoke distractedly. His eyes were closed for a blink as he pulled the door ajar, so it was not until he was halfway through his words that he actually saw who stood outside, and his breath caught in his lungs then in shock!

There towering over him–and in fact so tall that half of her head was concealed by the top lip of the doorframe–stood his wife, the Countess Uldred. She was still clad in her dark robes, leathers and filthy armor, and her face remained obscured behind her hood and that inscrutable silver facemask. In her hands she clutched a silver tray bearing two glasses and a small steaming teapot, all of it appearing comically small in her titan-like grasp.

“I’ve had a lot of practice…” She mumbled in reply.

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An air of seemingly impenetrable awkwardness hung in the room now, as though a transparent wall separated this newly paired husband and wife from one another. It had been more than half of an hour since Niklas had beckoned the large woman inside and to a chair, which creaked beneath her massive size, and since then he had remained unsure of what to say or do with her presence, wondering even if he could simply ignore her?

Niklas enjoyed the warmth of his cup more than what little flavor was left to wring out of those old and overused tea-leaves. He stared down at his feet for the most part, only taking small peeks at the Countess every time he brought his cup up to his lips for another peck of his drink. She had set her cup aside entirely–a formality, he’d wagered, as she still wore that full silver mask upon her face–and every time he looked at her she would flick her violet eyes to him in return, which would then send his gaze scurrying back to the floor just as quickly.

At first he had thought there must be a reason for her to come in place of the butler. Why else would she be sitting here, threatening to ruin his single, rickety guest chair which could barely hold her large frame, not to mention her full set of armor? But here she was anyways, simply sitting in silence, fully covered and as inscrutable as ever.

Niklas finally gathered his wits, set his own drink aside on the end table and spoke. “S-so…” He forced out, despite his body clinging to his words like a starving man to his last crust of bread. “To what do I owe the pleasure of your presence… wife?”

At his use of ‘wife’ to address her he saw her hand twitch, which caused him to flinch instinctively.

“I…” She finally spoke, but did not say anything beyond that for a time. Niklas waited during her long period of hesitation with bated breath. “...would like to apologize, to you.”

At that Niklas’ mouth hung open for a moment, but he quickly regained his composure. “Oh! To apolo- oh!” And he scrambled a bit to arrange himself in a proper posture. “Think nothing of it, my Lady! There is no need-”

“NO!” She cried, and so forcefully that even from behind that silver mask, Niklas thought he’d felt his clothes rustle as if disturbed by a strong breeze.

“I…suspected you. Cruelly.” She continued, now more subdued. “And I forced you into a terrible cold cell. Uhm… cruelly.” As she spoke her hulking form had slouched inwards upon itself, as if she was attempting to restrain herself after her sudden outburst.

Not the deepest vocabulary. Niklas mused to himself.

Another long pause followed–he guessed that she might be struggling to think of what to say. Then she abruptly shot straight up out of her chair and onto her feet, which startled Niklas once more and also threatened to nearly send the top of her head through the boards of the ceiling! Before he could begin to process what his wife was doing, she had bent down into a rigid bow before him, and one that was impressively deep for her size and width!

Stolen from its original source, this story is not meant to be on Amazon; report any sightings.

“I, C-Countess of Petrice,” She spoke while holding this incredible position, her body taut as a bowstring. “humbly apologize for my previous rudeness and my transgressions towards you!”

…Did she just stutter?

Niklas knew not what to reply, and indeed was so stunned he could neither move nor speak, so unexpected was this turn of events to him. After a few moments without reaction or reply, without rising from her deep bow, his wife’s violet eyes rose up to meet with his. “Are you going to accept my apology?” She demanded then, her tone brusque with a hint of warning.

“I accept! I accept it!” The lad stammered hastily, putting his hands up between them as if he were going to be struck. “R-really, think nothing of it… my Lady.” This form of address did not elicit a violent twitch from her, so Niklas surmised she might be more comfortable with it.

She narrowed her eyes, but then slowly rose back to her full height–or at least back to her usual hunched posture.

“I understand how it might be confusing and suspicious for a stranger to arrive and claim to be your new husband.” He continued, and every word spoken slowly and deliberately as his mind raced for the right ones to convey his thoughts. “I… understand that you are out of the County, on business of the County, quite often. And that the news from His Majesty and the writ of our official… union might not have graced your eyes yet when I had arrived.”

We waited a beat for her to reply, but she simply remained where she stood, listening wordlessly.

So he continued. “How about we simply… put this behind us? Whoopsies! An honest mistake. Between frie-between partners?” Her hand noticeably twitched again. “Buh-business! Business partners!” He stammered out, having caught this reaction.

“Mmm.” She grunted, barely audible beneath the muffling barrier of her mask. He thought she might say something more then, but she did not. Desperate to avoid another long and awkward lull in the conversation, he continued to speak instead.

“S-so, when do you next depart for the Road of Benedict?”

“Two days time.” She replied immediately; this was a topic she was much more comfortable with, he suspected.

“I was looking over the ledger. There are less than two months until the contract with Otkorn is complete. What normally occurs after that?” He asked her, leaning forward in his chair.

She seemed a bit hesitant to continue, at first, but quickly relented.

“After the contract with Otkorn we will likely receive a contract from Lengar. For twelve months and one hundred silvers.”

Niklas bit his lip and held his tongue. Yes, we will have to do something about that first and foremost. I do not want her… or, I suppose, us, to be beholden to Lengar and Otkorn for so long, and for so little reward.

His gaze flitted up to her now, and for once she was not returning it, but staring down at the fire from where she stood.

He sighed in exasperation and rubbed his temple as he pondered the situation further. Unfortunately I am powerless at this moment. I have neither influence nor capital to my name, nor even knowledge of the surrounding area and the people of Petrice! I cannot ask her to turn away from what little money she may bring in, no matter how disrespectful the assignment, without a concrete alternative!

“Well,” he spoke up tentatively. “I’m considering going out and about the County, to meet the people and to better understand the…situation of the locals. While you are away.”

Her gaze raced back upon him then, and she looked him up and down in a manner that seemed to Niklas to be quite incredulous, which he could somehow detect despite her inscrutable attire.

“G-go out? You?” She asked with such authority it was almost a demand rather than a question. “It is much too dangerous for one as small as you! You should just stay here where it is safe!”

Now it was Niklas’ turn to shoot a look back over to her, cocking one eyebrow up at her in irritation.

“I will not remain cloistered away in this castle while the County is in such dire straits and there is work to be done!” He replied firmly, almost bordering on a shout.

Uldred could not help but flinch back slightly at his forceful rebuttal, but then she straightened her arms at her sides and curled back her fists, in what appeared a somewhat childish looking pose. “I said no! The County is f-fine! We will continue on as we have been. We don’t need your help!”

“And I will not take ‘no’ for an answer!” He barked back without hesitation. “I’ve seen your ledger, and I’ve seen the state of the Petrician towns and their buildings and people on my way here. Perhaps this is normal for you, but as one from places of greater civility, and who has been to the great Capital, I must say this place and people are quite run-down!”

“There are monsters out there!” she snapped.

Niklas paused for this was a true point, though not one that he would let deter him. “I…I shall have Belfort with me.”

“Belfort cannot protect you from monsters!”

“It is a risk I will have to take!” He shouted back at her. Why does she even care if I am in danger? He wondered, for they were, despite their recent marriage, barely more than two strangers.

Uldred appeared somewhat at a loss for words, then. She had never been in an argument before. She had barely ever spoken to anyone in her life but her Father and Belfort, besides giving a few small greetings to soldiers or officials of the old King.

“I-I am the Countess!” She stammered in reply. “You cannot go!”

“I am the Count!” He retorted. “I can go where I like!”

Uldred did not reply after that, and there was another awkward pause between them. As the adrenaline of this confrontation left him, Niklas was instead filled with a wary anxiety. He realized, once again, how large and intimidating the one he had been arguing with appeared, and he fretted over how she might react to his defiance.

“Fine!”

But despite his fears, the woman who was now Niklas’ wife simply marched back to the doorway in a huff, wrenching the thing open and only pausing her exit to announce back to him.

“Do what you want!”

Then she slammed the door behind her, and so great was the force that it rattled the stone walls of his chamber–and the pictures and placements upon them–quite violently. The gust of force she had produced threatened to extinguish the fire entirely, and it sent the spindly lad and his chair both toppling backwards head-over-heels.

That was where Niklas lay now; staring up at the tall ceiling, he was reminded of the few times in his youth when he had argued so stubbornly with his Eldest Brother and been beaten for it.

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Uldred stood on the other side of his door, slumped against it a bit. Her whole body shook, and her head was hot and her vision white, all in the shock from her first argument. Beneath her mask she pursed her lips–or what was left of them–so hard that they ached, and her vision clouded further as great tears welled up.

He yelled at me! That mean, small, ugly thing, how dare he! She thought petulantly.

I was only looking out for his wellbeing! He is so small that he looks as though a strong breeze might break him in two–But he yelled at me!

“Hmph!” She grumbled haughtily, crossing her arms over her broad chest.

Well, if he wants to go out and be eaten up in one bite he can, what do I care? I just met him the other day… I don’t even know him from the dirt under my boots!

She stood there for a moment more indulging in such thoughts, sniffling childishly. But as her anger slowly abated, a small worry crept in to replace it.

“Oh~! Where is Belfort? I must send a letter right away!”

And with this, she departed hastily down the hall and away from her unsettling thoughts of her husband.

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It had only yet been a day and a half since the carrier bird had found him, and yet this man–who had short brunette hair–had already made impressive progress through the County. Placing his hand upon his forehead like a visor to shade his eyes from the nonexistent sun of the regular cloudy day, Thomas looked out from the peak of the steep hill upon which he stood; his sight resting on the large, black and ominous Castle where the Countess resided.

“There it is!” He announced aloud.

He looked back with a delightful smile upon his mule, his stalwart companion, and he spoke excitedly to her as if she understood him.

“It has been so long since she has called for us, it must be important!”

The mule huffed and continued to chew on the dull and somewhat dry grass below her.

“Oh, do not be that way, Missy! She would not call for us out of the blue for some simple chore!” He said, as if she had replied to him.

“Come now, Missy!” he called jovially. “The Countess awaits!” And he led the beast forward.