“You’re Adrian Acker?! This whole time you were the most wanted criminal in the kingdom?!”

“Well, yeah. So?”

“So? So?! You’re a mass murderer! You’ve caused untold death and destruction in the capital, and you have the audacity to ask ‘So?!’”

“Now, to be fair … to be fair … terrorism is pretty fun. You should try it sometime. It does wonders for your mental health.”

“Take this seriously, you damn heretic!”

“A-ha! You just said a bad word. Nah-nah-nana-nah! Did you hear that, Starboy? Your favorite priestess just cursed—in a house of god! Ain’t that a swell thing to do.”

“Who the fuck are you talking to?! Listen to me when I talk to you, you insane cunt!”

“Okay … using the c-word is a bit much, even for me. Plus, I’m trying to listen in on—”

“Don’t you dare try to change the subject on me, you dirty, unbaptized, hedonistic, infidelic whore! You’re a depraved diabolical skunk, whose disease-ridden cunt-hole of mouth is only capable of spewing out sacrilegious bullshit, and everything you say and do is an insalubrious insult against all that is good and holy! Your vile soul is a moldering piece of mucus dipped in maggot-infested shit before being served on a plate of dried horse shit!”

“I … I appreciate the e-enthusiasm, Freckles, but now isn’t the right time or place for—”

“I hope you’re proud of yourself, you nauseating harlot—you debauched, detestable, demented, diarrhea-spewing asshole—because nobody else will! Your very existence is a shit stain upon the name of your ancestors, and I’m certain your poor mother cries herself to sleep every night at the thought of having an evil whore like you as a daughter! They say the Lord never makes mistakes but he must’ve sneezed when he allowed a selfish, egomaniacal Hellspawn like you to be born, and every second you’re allowed to draw your rancid breath without getting bitch slapped in the face is a second too many!”

“… Dude, ch-chill. I … I was just kidding.”

“Oh, I’m not done, you deplorable slug! I know I shouldn’t wish harm upon anyone, but I wouldn’t shed a tear if someone were to clobber you in the head, rip off your clothes, and begin to …”

The Devil’s face turns pale at Donna’s continuous tirade.

Below, Mother Superior Selah feels a chill from above, but when she looks up, there is nothing there but a dim and lonely ceiling.

When the girls return to their room, Amelia quickly separates from Donna and buries her tiny self under a thick blanket. But the sight of her shaking little body doesn’t deter the furious priestess-in-training from continuing her rant.

“… And furthermore, the act of saving people doesn’t absolve the sins you’ve committed in the name of Adrian Acker! These two things are not the same, and they cannot be measured on the same scale. Come out here and look me in the eye when I talk to you, you loathsome little bitch!”

“I didn’t do it!” Amelia screams as Donna pulls away her blanket. “I didn’t do it, okay?! I was just messing with you before!”

“Is this true?! Are you truly not Adrian Acker, Ms. Eleanor?”

“Oh … that part’s true.”

“Why you little—”

“Wait, wait, wait! I said wait! I am Adrian Acker, and I am the Devil, but I would never kill people unless in self-defense! That’s like, one of my three iron rules!”

“Explain yourself—from the beginning!”

Amelia gulps and relays her life story to Donna Day. She chooses to cut out her early life section and starts at the rescue of Princess Grace Graham.

Donna listens to her story attentively, and her brows tie up when she hears about the Antediluvian and their nation-shaking schemes, and how Adrian Acker—or the shaking little girl before her—is the only reason the kingdom hasn’t fallen under their grasp yet.

Amelia even tells Donna about her encounter with Ceram in the heart of the dungeon, although she leaves out most of the conversation she shared with God. Donna doesn’t look like she believes this part, but she reflects on the rest of the story.

“So when we were trapped in the Amber Dungeons and had to fight for our lives …”

“That was part of Junior’s plan, yup.” Amelia nods quickly.

“And this afternoon when we listened in on the girl squire and that horrible mother superior …”

“They were probably plotting for a way to take over the world, like usual.”

“And you’re not lying to me?” Donna has a skeptical look on her face.

“I’m telling you, it’s the truth, the whole truth, and nothing but the truth!”

“The ‘whole’ truth?”

“… More or less, yup.” Amelia avoids Donna’s eyes.

Donna Day glares at the shifty little girl, then she lowers her head to think. She thinks long and hard, then she says, “What about the young page you’ve been stalking for the last few days?—The young Master Julius. How does he fit into all of this?”

“Oh, he’s my son.”

The narrative has been stolen; if detected on Amazon, report the infringement.

“He’s … your son.”

“Yup.”

“And when did you … have him, exactly?”

“Er … I think I was around six or seven back then.”

“And how old is he now?”

“Nine, going ten.”

“And how old are you now?”

“Twelve, going thirteen.”

“And does the math work out?”

“Huh, now that you mention it … He is catching up to me, isn’t he? I never really thought about it before. Kids sure grow up fast these days, huh, Freckles?”

“Don’t you ‘freckles’ me, you lying skank!” Donna grabs Amelia by the collar.

“Wait, wait, wait, I’m not lying! I’m not lying! I swear it on my Eagle Scout’s honor—I’m not lying!”

“Then explain yourself again from the beginning—the whole truth, this time!”

Amelia swallows hard and starts again from her birth, her life in the north, her kidnapping, the artificial mana experiment, her first “death” and later resurrection with the power of “Hatred,” how she lost Bailey and became responsible for Julius, her years of living in the woods, how she cures the Blue Plague, and finally how she gave up Julius and faked her death.

When Amelia finishes her long tale, Donna becomes the first person to learn of her entire life story up to that point.

“So you are, in reality, Lady Amelia Ambrose, the missing daughter of the Duke of the North.”

“Yup.”

“You are also Lady Eleanor Ambrose, the adoptive daughter of the same duke.”

“You already know that.”

“You’re also the terrorist, Adrian Acker, who isn’t actually a terrorist, and Doctor August, the genius and mysterious doctor who saved our nation from the clutches of the Blue Plague. You also have an adopted son, who you named after a month, because you were too lazy to give the boy a proper name.”

“Yup yup yup, right on all accounts.”

Donna turns silent. Her half-opened eyes stare at Amelia’s small face, trying to discern the truth from her.

Finally, she gets up, walks to a brick wall, and starts banging her forehead against it.

“Um … have you finally gone crazy, Freckles?”

“Don’t!” Donna puts up her index finger. “Just … don’t. I don’t want to hear that from you, of all people.”

Donna keeps banging her head against the wall, and when she stops, blood is seeping from her forehead. She looks up and raises her hands as if to pray, but her fingers are shaking and too contorted to fold together. Several conflicting emotions are fighting inside of her, so in the end, she simply breathes in … breathes out … in and out, in and out …

“Freckles … Donna, are you okay?”

Donna parts her lips, then she closes them, then she raises her shaking hands, then she lowers them, then she digs her nails into her palms, and says, “I want to believe you’re lying—truly, I do—but knowing you these past several months, living with you, sharing the same body … I can’t … I … I believe you, Ms. Amelia. Every word of it, I believe you. I believe you’re the only person in the world who’s insane enough, in all senses of the word, to have accomplished all those fantastical things.”

She breathes out, calming her nerves, and continues:

“I take back everything I said about you, and I apologize gravely for my previous behavior. I understand if you will never forgive me.”

“Nah, it’s all good, fam. Water under the bridge.”

“Thank you. Truly, I thank you for everything you have done. And I apologize again for ruining your chance of observing the Antediluvian’s schemes.”

“All good. All good. I got the gist of it, anyway. The Assassin’s Creed girl is tasked with killing someone to start a civil war or whatever. Pretty standard stuff. Nothing I haven’t seen before.”

“Thank God.” Donna relaxes. “I assume you will be dealing with the girl squire and the mother superior next?”

“All in due time. I need that girl to help me help Julius first. Hehehe!”

“Ms. Amelia, I know I shouldn’t ask this of you, but could you please explain your ten-step plan regarding Ms. Raelyn and young master Julius to me? Just so we’re all on the same page. That way, I wouldn’t interrupt you during critical moments again.”

“Sure thing, sister. So here’s the plan, see? We’ll wait until the girl leaves for her mission, and then we’ll intercept her, disguised as one of her cultist buddies. It’d be easy if she had to meet up with some kind of contact. If not, we could always show up as her evil stepmother.”

“Taking the form of Mother Superior Selah? That’s a fantastic idea, Ms. Amelia. Then what?”

“Then we’ll try to befriend the girl, see what makes her tick. Sure, we’ll stop her assassination attempt or whatever. That’s not the important part. What’s important is slowly, very slowly, we’ll start asking her about her relationship with Julius. She’ll deny there’s anything there, of course, but we’ll press her—bring up some bullshit story about lost love or dead husbands or some other sentimental nonsense. This will force the girl to think about her relationship with Julius more seriously.”

“And then?” Donna leans in. Her wide eyes sparkle.

“Then we’ll introduce her to the concept of S&M!”

“S and … M?”

“The sadistic pleasure one gains from inflicting pain on a loved one. It is a highly personal and passionate form of love that can tear down boundaries and bring two people closer together through the act of causing and receiving pain. It requires the highest level of trust and understanding between two people to even begin to consider engaging in such action!”

“And … and why would you want Ms. Raelyn to learn of such a thing?”

“So she can try to use it on Julius.”

“And … why would you want her to do that to your son?”

“So he’ll run away from her, duh! That snotty brat will be scared shitless and run away to the far corners of the earth. Thus, in the process, he’ll have no choice but to give up on his childish dream of becoming a knight. Resulting in him being far away from danger! What do you think? Brilliant plan, huh?!”

Donna parts her lips, then she closes them, then she raises her shaking hands, then she lowers them, then she places Amelia on her lap with a gentle smile, reaches her hand to grab a heavy hair brush, and repeatedly spanks Amelia’s butt with it!

“Ahh! Ouch! Ouch! What are you doing?!”

“Repent, you vile creature! Repent for your evil thoughts and evil ways! Repent! Repent! Repent! Repent! Repent!”

“Ouch! Release me this instance, woman, or I’ll—Ouch! Stop it! Ouch! I said stop! Stop! It hurts! Mommy! Help me, mommy! Ahhh!”

Inside the memory, the young priestess continues to spank our favorite devil while repeating the word “repent” with a stern grace.

Outside the memory, the members of the audience wince at the sight and look at the little ball on the ground with pitying eyes.

The fear I inhaled previously was still in effect, okay?! It’s not like I was actually afraid of that dumb priestess or anything, okay?!

“Repent! Repent! Repent! By God’s grace, I will save your soul yet! So repent! Repent! Repent! Repent! Repent! …”

Every time Donna says the word, the ball shakes a little … and she goes on saying it for a very, very long time.