⸂It could be worse,⸃ V said, his voice shifting privately through Emilia’s core with far too much ease.

“Could it?” she grumbled, bare feet scuffing over the mismatched hallway as they made their way for the unknown area indicated on her map, which had returned once she was free of the labyrinth. As much as the messaging system had caused her head to ache, it was better than her nigh uncontrollable aethervoice. Clearly, everyone just needed access to the Risen Guard system.

⸂Sure,⸃ V said, leaning in to bump shoulder with her. ⸂If we didn’t have Fran, you’d still be spilling your thoughts everywhere.⸃

Emilia levelled an exceptionally unimpressed look at her so-called friend. That woman didn’t want to help her—didn’t even seem to want her there at all, as far as Emilia could tell.

She didn’t really blame her. Emilia didn’t want the mystery woman around any more than she wanted her.

Ahead of them, the woman was setting their pace, glancing back at her and V with a mixture of envy and hatred and sadness so frequently that said pace was slow. Painfully slow. Astra would have set a faster pace than this woman.

She was jealous, of Emilia—of the fact that V clearly preferred her, his hand having locked around hers soon after he had exited the labyrinth and not released it since. Fran didn’t like that any more than Emilia would have liked it if the situation were reversed.

Fucking stars. When had this raid turned into some petty battle over a man? V wasn’t even her man, even if she felt a sort of territorial possessiveness of him. He was her friend first. She’d already fucked him. He was, therefore, hers alone—for the duration of the raid, anyways. After that…

After that, they’d wait three months. Life would go on. Then, they’d meet up—or, more than likely, they’d pop into Rosalia and head to Korantum, the bar they’d agreed to meet at, and hope to the stars above they weren’t stupid, and the other person would actually show up. Given her suspicions about knowing V in the real world, he would likely be worried about her freaking out at him as well. That was fair. She on the other hand…

What would she be worried about? A thousand little things, most likely. Unbidden, her hand squeezed V’s as those reasons rattled through her head.

Would he like the real her?

Would she be as pretty as whenever they had known each other?

Would he be someone she could—

Could what? Be with? She had a boyfriend, even if her brain had been pushing her to break it off with him for days—but if she didn’t? If she and Elijah broke up before the Eve of the Astral Storm, and she and V met and…

V’s laughter shuddered through her, and when Emilia blinked back into the present, she realized she was watching V. He raised an eyebrow at her—a silent question of, “What are you thinking about?”

Given how amused the man was, it seemed likely that whatever look she had been giving him was too telling about her current train of thought. They’d only know each other for a few days, most of which they hadn't even been together! This was ridiculous! This was—

“This is so unfair,” she grumbled, the hand she had locked around Astra’s swinging aggressively as they walked, the girl happily going along with her exasperation.

According to Gale, they hadn’t told V or Fran that she was a visitor—Caro’s idea.

⸂Caro has a bad feeling about that woman,⸃ Gale had explained to her privately, soon after Fran had begrudgingly locked her aethervoice away using some technique that parents often used on their children, while they were learning to control their voices. ⸂So, we decided not to tell them.⸃

The teenager’s eyes had slid to V, and Emilia’s mind had flickered back to what the teenager had said: that V was weird and Emilia could do better than him. Hopefully the two of them would have a chance to chat later. They had a lot to discuss, but mostly Emilia was just really curious about why she thought him weird! Was he weird? Sure. The man was insane, but through their time together with the kids, he had been more relaxed for their sake. Still a little weird, but she was curious what it was that made the judgmental teen think Emilia was too good for him, especially when the teenager had also been confused about why Conrad would want to stalk her!?

Gale was crazy. That was obviously what was happening here. Gale was a crazy, hormonal teenager with opinions on everything clashing together because she couldn’t keep her thoughts and words straight.

Probably.

Maybe.

“Seriously,” she sighed, lower lip sticking out as she decided that pouting was the best option. “It’s really unfair that I can’t even control my aethervoice, let alone express all my feelings to you or the others privately. Why are aethervoices so hard~”

V laughed as she leaned in to moan into his arm, her eyes catching on an increasingly irate looking Fran. Whatever. Emilia had made herself small for others before, first as a child, squeezing her personality into a box for the sake of her family. They'd removed the lid of that box and each of its sides themselves, dismantling her self-imposed container with so much brutal efficiency that nothing remained of it until her ex had hand built that box for her once more.

That box was gone—blown away, just like his body at Alliance Ridge. Nothing would be bringing it back. Not some man and certainly not some woman who wanted to get into her man’s pants… Her temporary man’s pants, anyways.

“Hey, V?” Emilia asked, peaking up at him from under her lashes, her voice low, although she knew Astra and Fran could likely hear her.

You might be reading a pirated copy. Look for the official release to support the author.

⸂Emilia,⸃ the other visitor said gravely, blue eyes locking solemnly onto hers.

“You gonna be with anyone else while we’re here? Or just me?”

Whatever the man had been expecting her to say, that clearly wasn’t it, and Emilia took great joy in watching him gape at her for a long moment. Several metres in front of them, Fran tripped, stumbling several steps forward before twisting around to gape at her as well. Her energy rippled, words that she wanted to let loose barely held back by some note of self-control—or perhaps realization that anything she said would come out crazed and possessive in a way she wasn’t entitled to.

Neither was Emilia—as noted, she and V had only known each other a few days, only fucked a few times. She still had more of a right, however, and she was grumpy and spoiled. Olivier had been wrong about so many things when they first met, but as much as she had denied that she was a spoiled princess, she was—she so totally was. Less so now, after years of living from paydrop to paydrop, but inside, she was still spoiled.

There were few places where she allowed herself to still be spoiled in her life. This was one of those things, a powerful gift granted to her by her existence as a spoiled—if still thankful—child: the confidence to ask for what she wanted, regardless of how insane it seemed. It wasn’t a bad trait, but Emilia knew well enough that asking for—demanding, even—what you wanted was a trait many people lacked. People didn’t ask. Instead, they waited to be offered, risking disappointment and heartbreak and broken relationships because they were too afraid to ask.

While Emilia had certainly shied away from asking for certain things—usually when trauma from her childhood or the war wrapped its grubby hands around her mind—this wasn’t such a case. Asking V to set out what he was expecting for the near future wasn’t something she needed to shy away from.

Amusement rolled through her, followed by the man’s voice, sliding through her meridians, and the sorts of thoughts and feelings he was dragging out of her really were inappropriate—they were in public, after all!

⸂Considering that woman is the only thing keeping whatever thoughts you have rolling around inside you from getting out, are you sure you should be antagonizing her?⸃

Okay, that might have been a good point. It would be petty of the woman to remove her aethervoice control over a man—and a visitor, no less!—but it was equally petty to be poking at this in front of her, just because she wanted some confirmation that V was hers.

“Maybe not,” she admitted, sighing as they continued on, hands still locked together. They felt like a little family, which wasn’t helping anything. A strange family that felt simultaneously right and wrong, but a family nonetheless.

V’s thumb rubbed soothing circles over her palm, and she wondered what he was thinking. They had yet to say much, Fran being insistent that they get moving as soon as possible. Certainly, they could chat while they walked, but the few times Emilia had tried to start a conversation with V, the woman had interjected over her own words.

Rude.

V would smile mildly at the woman, his horrible dimples barely visible, until Fran turned forward again and his expression would fall into one of annoyance.

At least she wasn’t the only one who didn’t like the woman. V didn’t seem particularly fond of her—which begged the question of why he was even with her, although Emilia supposed that raids were the sort of place where you accepted any ally you could find. Gale and Caro certainly didn’t like her either, both of them trailing behind her and V, their energy vibrating with silent conversation. As for what Astra felt about the woman…

Emilia eyes slid to the child, who had returned to her silence since their reunion. The girl stared absently ahead, seemingly not thinking of anything.

Seriously, how had both Astra and V figured out how to quiet their internal voice so fast!?

Emilia had tried to ask V about that again as they got closer to the mystery chamber ahead—which, realistically, wasn’t a mystery because according to Gale, Fran and V had come from that direction. When she’d tried—big surprise—Fran had talked over her, trying to change the subject to something completely unrelated.

V’s hand had tightened around hers, the man clearly understanding that Emilia was about to launch herself at the horrible woman and kill her.

Indeed, when Emilia once again attempted to fill the painful silence with a question about how V had quieted his mind, Fran spoke up.

“So, how—” she began, her question cutting off as rage spiralled through her. She would have kept talking, but the woman’s aethervoice seemed intent to drown her own out. Besides, V wasn’t stupid—he definitely knew Fran was doing this just to get under her skin. It was working, but whatever friendship V had previously had with her seemed to be evaporating with ever interruption. At least something would come from the woman being such a bitch.

⸂You know I’m descended from a visitor, right?⸃ the woman said, turning and walking backwards. It was a stupid decision, what with how uneven the floor of the hallway was, but Emilia wasn’t about to point that out.

⸂So?⸃ Gale asked. The teenager—being a teenager and all—had also noted what Fran was doing. Apparently, there were a few older girls in Livery who had liked doing something similar. Gale’s solution was to not let Fran talk to V because as much as she thought Emilia was too good for him, the local girl also seemed inclined to make sure Emilia got what she wanted.

It was sweet, if also rather amusing. Emilia didn’t need Gale to defend her, but it was nice, nonetheless. Still, Fran was a wildcard, and Emilia’s attention was glued to the woman anytime she interacted with one of the children, lest she feel ganged up on and decide to do something about it.

Emilia almost hoped the annoying woman would try something, if only so she could kill her. What a lovely turn of events that would be.

Fran bristled slightly, aether shuddering as she prepared to explain to Gale why being the descendant of a visitor mattered, when her foot landed on a fleshy section of the patchwork hallway. With a yelp, she toppled over.

⸂You should watch where you’re going,⸃ Caro offered, before breaking into a long, winding story about the time they’d accidentally wandered out of Livery and into the neighbouring city when they hadn’t been paying attention.

Emilia tugged her hands away from V and Astra, taking a few big steps to offer a hand to Fran—a peace offering.

Not.

Fran glared between her hand and V, knowing full well that if she refused Emilia’s hand, she wouldn’t be able to demand V help her up. The woman grumbled, a smattering of frustrated words leaking out of her as she pushed herself up, muttering about how she didn’t need help.

If they’d been anywhere else, Emilia might have snidely pointed out that she’d been sitting on the ground, seemingly waiting for someone to help her up. Fran had definitely been waiting, but she’d been waiting for V, and as she stomped off, her plan for latching onto his hand—probably to never give it up until the day he left this world—foiled, Emilia laughed to herself.

⸂Nice,⸃ Gale snickered as she and the others caught up, Astra’s hand immediately snatching Emilia’s back up, Caro having grabbed Astra’s other while they continued rambling about all the times they’d been lost. Caro offered they’re hand to Gale, and while the teenager snorted and roller her eyes, she accepted it nonetheless.

V caught Emilia’s other hand, pulling them into moving again, the look he shot her reading as something between, “Really?” and “Feel better?” and something soft and amused that she was being a petty bitch over him.

Hopefully, poking at Fran wouldn’t come back to bite them.