Last in line for the throne, Sybil Palemarrow suddenly appeared on the chair Leland’s mind forced him to improperly see. Almost instantly sensory information assaulted his eyes, creating a wide arc of vibrating colors. He grit his teeth, almost casting Harbinger’s Halo and Touch of Regeneration to heal himself.

But that would be in poor taste and even poorer company. Leland wasn’t foolish enough to think that Aunty P. wouldn’t recognize a Harbinger’s mark. There had to be some information about Harbingers in the Royal vaults, even if the Inquisitors, such as his parents, were not privy to such notions. Aunty P. being the Royal Liaison to the Inquisitors, along with being the eldest princess, had to have given her some measure of secrecy.

“Sybil, you remember Leland, right?” Lucia asked in a way that obviously implied she did remember him.

The princess nodded meekly, her hands fidgeting around the white rounded mask. It was blank besides two eye holes, but it still proved to be enough of a deterrent for onlookers. Created from a dead Lord’s bones, the mask was considered one of the Palemarrow Empire’s most important weapons, even if it didn’t provide anything other than camouflage. A divine artifact was a divine artifact regardless of ability.

“And Leland, you remember the Youngest Princess, right?” This time it was Spencer who spoke, interrupting his wife’s meddling.

Before Leland could respond, Aunty P. yelled from across the room. “Get the boy a drink! He looks like his mind is about to splinter!”

With that his parents turned and frowned. A moment later there was a flash of light and the tink of a glass as a portal snapped open and a cup of water was teleported. His dad thrust the drink over.

“Sorry son, divine artifacts can be unpleasant.”

Leland nodded along, sipping the water like it was a healing stream from the Swirling Pools. Eventually he looked back to Sybil, finding the mask’s power gone.

The Sybil from his memory was faint and blurred, nowhere near the young woman sitting before him. From a childish tomboy who decided to play in a courtyard fountain and draw enough worry to send the butlers into a fit, to someone befitting of a Royal title. She wore her Empire’s colors, red and white, which contrasted with her dark yet scarred skin.

Leland didn’t know the history behind the scars that wove through her lip and right eye, but he was familiar enough with battle to know how proper wounds looked. Swords, daggers, axes, each had their own weight and thickness as well as pattern and stroke, none of which held a candle to the scarring on the Princess’ face.

Even through countless healing treatments, Leland could tell Sybil’s scars were deliberate and practiced. There was a level of precision to the wounds, a deeper understanding of pain than a warrior taking a swipe or an assassin going for the kill. No, Sybil was tortured, that much was evident from the lack of damage the scars created.

One went through her eye, coming ever so close to actually blinding the poor girl but stopping just short. The other rose up and through her lips, cutting from her chin into her cheek while staying away from bisecting bone or a nasal cavity.

“Uh, er, hello,” Leland coughed out, which prompted a set of giggles from across the room.

Lucia and Leland both whipped to attention, scowling at Jude and his parents for the disruption. Each, in turn, held up their drinks, content with watching the “show.”

“G-good day,” Sybil then said. “How have you been?”

Before Leland could respond, Spencer spoke up, “Why don’t you come over here and sit with us? That way we don’t have to yell across the room.”

A groan sounded from Roy Brown. “No whispering! We want to be able to hear!”

Everyone ignored him, even the Princess and her aunt as the pair slowly sauntered over. They sat, and quickly the conversation resumed.

This tale has been pilfered from Royal Road. If found on Amazon, kindly file a report.

“I’ve been fine, I guess. My adventures with Jude and Glenny have been hectic if I’m being honest. A few close calls, but we all have gotten a lot of experience,” Leland said.

“Oh! That’s… good,” Sybil looked like she wanted to say something else, but a guiding glance from her aunt made her change her approach.

Lucia almost rolled her eyes. “Leland, why don’t you tell us about some of your adventures, yeah? I’m sure Aunty P. and Sybil would be as interested as your father and I are.”

Leland hesitated, looking around the table. Everyone seemed to lean in a bit, like they were waiting for him to start a race or unveil a new invention. He took a breath, finding that Glenny and his dad were still talking quietly and Jude and his parents were doing something suspicious with copper coins while keeping an eye on the conversion.

“Well. I guess starting out, we took a caravan detail to Liontrunk where we…” Leland then gave a highly redacted version of events leading up to the battle with the Sightless King.

His parents smiled the whole time leaning into one another relaxed, even after the part where Glenny went missing. At the mention of the Huntress they had stiffened but that quickly dispelled when Leland mentioned House Onryo and the corruption they were seeking to rectify.

It was a bit surreal for Leland, telling his parents about a House they directly intervened with some years earlier. He often forgot that it wasn’t just Glenny’s mom that was stationed in Shoutwell and in fact every adult in the room had been except for Aunty P.

“Artificial Lord?” Sybil finally asked. “I’ve never heard of such a thing.”

Aunty P. was the one who answered. “They are rare and all but extinct on this continent. Your mother saw to that. And I say good riddance.” She made a humph at that. “Monsters that somehow are able to sway the minds of the weak, allowing them power only fathomable to those who are truly worshipped.”

Sybil’s jaw went progressively more slack as the explanation went on. In the end, she looked at Leland in a new light. “And you three killed it? That’s amazing.”

“Well no,” he corrected. “The Huntress did, but we battled with the Sightless King’s main follower.”

“Oh. But what happened after that? I mean, you helped save the city! That must have given you rewards fitting for a hero!”

Leland didn’t know about that. He said as much. “I got some paper.”

“Paper?” Sybil asked like the statement was in another language.

“Yeah, the expensive magically delivering type.”

“Oh.” She deliberated for a moment. “Well, was the progression in your Legacy worth the effort?”

Leland hesitated. “I was given an extra primary spell from my Lord, yes.”

“Oh that’s wonderful! That’s quite rare. What does the spell do?”

Leland had his hands on the table, but at the question he subconsciously began to retract them, making an effort to hide his crow tattoo. “Oh it’s, uh… I can make fire.”

“Fire?” Sybil asked despite a warning glare from her aunt. “You are not a Legacy of Fire, are you?”

“N-no. I, uh,” Leland looked around the table for help.

His parents were hesitant to intervene, knowing that their involvement might cause a bit of a stir in the eyes of the Youngest Princess. Luckily, Aunty P. had grown up and worked directly with individuals of secrecy. Hiding one’s Legacy, to her, was natural.

“Sybil, deary, that is a rude question,” she said calmly.

Sybil frowned at that. “Is it? Spencer and Lucia told me their Legacies.”

“Yes but they work for us. Leland does not, and if he wishes to keep his Legacy unknown, that is perfectly acceptable.”

“Oh okay…” she turned to Leland. “Sorry.”

“It’s no problem,” Leland said, an idea forming that could potentially ease the tension. “I would like to tell people my Legacy, but I kind of made a big deal about not telling the Huntress when we first met her. And well, she scares me and I think she’d be more insufferable if my Legacy somehow got back to her. Hopefully we will never see her again.”

Aunty P. laughed at that, but Leland could see Jude nodding along with the statement across the room. Sybil also seemed to be understanding but as her aunt just continued to laugh, the atmosphere became awkward. The younger princess was growing red from the older one’s excessive bellows, especially after Jude’s parents joined in a moment later.

Lucia sighed, planting her face into her palm while Spencer eyed the support beams in the ceiling.

“What is—”

A thud crashed beside the table where Leland and the others sat. Something fell with the weight of a cascading waterfall, kicking up what little dust remained in the lavish building. The thing unfurled itself to be a middle aged woman wearing dark leather armor and a warm cloak that looked like it was made of trimmings found in a garbage pit.

There was no mistaking who the person was, however, which only resonated with the fact that Leland had just insulted her.

“Leland,” the Huntress acknowledged with a sinister grin on her face. “I don’t think I’ve shown you scary yet.”