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.

Or had she noticed but wasn’t doing anything so she could observe further?

It was tiring.

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. 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.

“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.

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, who stood to the side, wearing a mask of indifference, stepped forward, holding out a potion.

I reached for it, but she pulled her hand back.

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

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

“You have no power and should be clear on who to follow and respect. Cherish the marriage your father arranged.”

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.”

Stolen content warning: this tale belongs on Royal Road. Report any occurrences elsewhere.

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.

***

“It’s a boy!”

The room stills before there is an explosion of whispers. The midwife holds the baby away, fear on her face.

“What are you doing?” My voice is weak as I lie on the bed, my legs still up. I feel the need to push, and that area is numb, but I reach for my child anyway. “Give him here.”

I lift my arms. The effort it takes to hold them up is almost too much, but I grit my teeth.

The woman holding the baby takes ginger steps as though it’s a loptak she’s carrying instead of a baby.

“Isn’t she from the Kala Tribe? How can she give birth to a boy?” The maids are standing by the entrance of the tent, huddling together. Soldiers shouting pierces the night as the Holy Nation did another night raid.

I hold the tiny child, his little arms waving as he cries his teeny heart out. He’s an ugly thing. The blood and slime are still on him, and he is red with a patch of black hair sticking to his forehead. I love him. I love him so much my heart can’t bear it. “It’s a miracle,” I say, but no one believes me.

“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 is no one here on my side. Even if they are, the terror of being on the battlefield and constantly watching people die whittled away at any compassion they might have.

They’ll kill him and then me. Marcus needs an excuse for why the soldiers, famed for being the best in the world, are losing. It is also a convenient excuse to rid himself of the wife he long considered baggage.

My presence doesn’t impede anyone's glory. Nor does my son. I don’t know how he came to be, but his father’s incompetence and cruelty are why Sargos is losing the war. An Emperor with a million capable servants can ruin a country, not to mention Sargos, which is hollow after a civil war.

***

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 left to seek shelter in the Amber Duchy during the civil war as it kept its doors closed through 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.

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.

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.

It was understandable. Selena was magically gifted, and the Crown Prince was scum. Their families betrothed them since birth, or there wouldn’t have been an engagement. If he’d been anyone other than the Crown Prince, the Duke would have the marriage annulled.

There was no doubt in my mind Selena would inherit the Duchy.

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.

1. The Viscountess Rintour was the one to suggest I take magic classes. It could be petty revenge or something more.

2. There was no reason for her to mention the Crown Prince’s visit, and why were their meetings so close together? The Baron could visit tomorrow since he lived in the Duchy. I bit my lip.

How did I get so close to the Crown Prince and Selene on their date? Fuck. 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 of another meeting with the Duchess. What was it about? I pressed my hand to my forehead…skipping lessons.

I stormed out of my lessons with The Viscountess. That got me seven days' punishment, and after 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. Fate had destined this potion and me to meet.

I pulled out the cork and tipped it back.

[Anomaly detected. Qi dispersing agent found.]