Tarion, Duke of Osberg.

Osberg City, Greystone Castle. The Red Room.

2 months ago.

After a very long day at the dock, my cape was flung on a nearby red chair, boots kicked of to the corner. Arms stretched, I fell on Vanessa's bed. I sighed, looking up at the canopy. A pen scratched parchment on the other side of the room. I sighed louder, looking over at my wife, absorbed in her work. Vanessa smiled, still holding her quill.

“How was your day?”

“Fucking exhuasting!” I sat up.

“Rydel?”

“Rydel! Exhausting bastard.” I rubbed my face. “I thought working with Rydel would be smooth sailing. But the man is meticulous, in turn, making me hyper of how shit I am at managing. Did you know we have to account for food expiring in a many weeklong long for a thousand-man regiment?” I stepped up from the bed. “Of course, I know that, but the arrow-eared bastard had to tell me anyway. And apparently, many of the weapons in the armoury were made to a subpar standard. But coming from the country of steel, Rydel is, in his own words, ‘Too used to quality products.’ Fuck off!” I met Vanessa on her desk. Registers, accounts, and finances filled the space, almost hiding her concentrating face. She noticed me near and finally placed the quill down.

“Sounds like a normal elf. Why don't I substitute?”

I kissed her forehead. “I shall suffer the tedious elf. Plus, it was my idea to work with him. Best I see it through, no matter how annoying he is. And you're doing a lot of work already, you damn workaholic." I messed her hair, leaving her chuckling as I walked to her extensive book collection. Paid quite the penny when Osberg was broke. What was I thinking? From the worn binds, books were well-read. No regrets.

“Dear?”

“Um?” I pull out a book with my finger. Romance? Chessy. Duke? I will read it later.

“Tarion.”

She stared lovingly with her emeralds; she knew I wavered. I usually miss training when I do. Vanessa slid her chair back back, making her way to me. I sat at the reading corner with a window overlooking the gardens. Vanessa joined, sitting with her legs held by her arms.

“I can fly now. Wind makes it much easier.” My gardener snipped at rose thorns outside. “Sometimes I fly as high as I possibly can. So far up, the air thins. Moisture starts to freeze around me. The horizon curved all around. ‘I could go anywhere,’ I thought to myself as the wind blew my air. I could slaughter everyone in that Vioden city this instant. Sevenths, eighths, and ninths. Matters not. Till my heart stops, my sword could tear through all who come in its path, killing generations of that accursed family.” The gardener made his way in at the end of his day and I turned to Venessa, who saw my nervousness. “Tell me again. Why I shouldn’t.”

My wife pursed her lips, crawling on the cushion to lie on me. Her body warmed me as I wrapped my arms around her tight.

“First, that would be very foolish.”

“Haha, true.”

"Second, you cannot bail out on the Alarian deal. With our best gone to Alar to help fight back the cult at the helm, what we will stand to gain will be immeasurable.“

“New state-of-the-art weapons. Soldiers to come to our aid. Razzorflower… Yes, those would change everything.”

“Third,” she continued, “Kirgfield. To avenge the many lost to hunger, we will capture the land and feed thousands more.”

Kirgfield. My army’s first chance to make a big splash.

“And fourth… I want to see you alive and well when our revenge is complete.”

Complete? Life after the killing, the war? With her?

I bent my head, laying my lips on hers. Tongue interlacing, we struggle to breathe in our embrace. Pulling away, Vanessa's hands held my face as we breathed heavily.

For a future with her, I can bear any sin.

“You’ve persuaded me,” I said, whispering.

“I always do.”

I panted like a thirsty beast, holding myself back till I saw her eyes’ beckoning gaze. I tasted her sweetness until the morning sun peeked through the curtains.

Back to the present day.

Beiye the Madam

“Saint?” The priest picked at his white and gold cassock. There was a tightness in his jaw. An exhale under his breath and the mouth relaxed. “Your Grace, although I am honoured by your presence. You unfortunately are not the holy figure we have searched for centuries.”

“Ahhh. really?" Her Grace stretched her words. "Well, that is disappointing. A cardinal, currently one of the top choices to be the next Pope, comes to the cold city and for what? To decline a divorce petition?”

The Cardinal repositioned his feet. “A duke of the once powerful dukedom of defence, Osberg, just got married! We at the church thought it good to bring the most capable man for the job.” The cocky bastard grinned but removed it as he saw the duchess's stone facade.

“The most capable man does not need back at the capital? I knew my husband ‘convinced’ you to preside over our surprise vows. But as a former noble and a top man at the church, you have the ability to leave.”

“Leave? When a fellow priest has caused so much trouble for this beautiful city. It is my job. Nay, it's my responsibility to make sure this cathedral goes back into working order before the replacement comes.”

“And when will that be?”

"Soon, I am sure.”

The duchesses hands cover each other at her stomach. She analysed the priest who plays the fool. The Cardinal shook the vial of glowing liquid. “I must apologise again. Must go and keep this secure. May I?” he asked.

A nod from Osberg’s governor, and the cardinal retreated down the aisle.

She looked at me, who still sat on the pew. I saw her eyes beconing to come close so I stood and leaned in her direction to hear her whisper.

“What do you think? Full of bullshit?”

Stunned by the verbiage the lady used, my words stumble. “Y-y-yes. To many tells. Although I can tell he used to lie a lot at his church.”

“Mmm. Quick, please. Summary on him.”

“Big Drinker. Big Fuc- Loves women.”

“Don't they have heavy restrictions on sexual relations?” Her Grace asked, looking at the cardinal walking down to the right.

“Marriage, okay. Casual sex. Heavens no. The possessors of the power to communicate with those above cannot blow their seed around like a dandelion.”

I heard laughter as the cardinal chatted with several of the altar boys. Every other sentence he peeked at us.

At least he treats the boys better than the last man.

“But it seemed he sees the rules as just a suggestion, making multiple trips a week to the redlight district. There was one interesting piece of info…”

“Tell me.”

“Ahem, during his first weeks, any type of girl satisfied him. But slowly, the girls started looking more and more like a certain type.” I looked into her eyes. “Green eyes, soft, healthy skin,” The duchess started to realise with widening eyes. She could barely hide her reaction.

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

“Long golden curls.”

“Oh dear… He was right.”

“Who?” I asked.

“The one shares a set of rings with me. Say, Beiye. How do you manipulate a man into giving you what you desire?”

Eyebrow up, I answer. “Make him believe he offered it to you willingly.”

The duchess observed her target eagerly. What could she want from that rake?

Her Grace burst forward, shuffling down the aisle.

“Grace? Wait for me!” I held my skirt and jogged after her. Her Grace’s feet barely came off the ground and still, I cannot close the gap even with a sprint. The duchess stopped by the boys, pretending to tire. The Cardinal held her arms, feigning concern, but his eyes betrayed his delight to finally touch his obsession.

“Your Grace! What is matter-”

“My confidant relayed to me of…my husband's and my transgression towards you. To insinuate that I was such an important figure in your religion was foolish of me.”

“Please, Grace, I felt no insulted by it. But your husband? What do you mean?”

The duchess covered her face, making her voice weepy. “You didn't know? Oh, dear…The Greystones owe you a true apology.”

“I don’t understand.” The cardinal asked, looking at his alter boys for answers, his grip lessening on the duchess' arms. Having dealt with touchy men before, she breathed in.

“My tyrant of a husband…” she pretends to weep. “He has a bad habit of putting people in situations in order to entrap them.”

“Entrap? Landabove… THAT BLOODY MAID!” The Cardinal unhanded her, stomping around in frustration.

The duchess grabbed his arm. “I will take responsibility,” she said with flirty eyes.

“Uhh…”

She let go. “Sorry, I had not the opportunity to go to church as a child.”

Quite a lie was a former apprentice nurse in a church infirmary.

The cardinal saw his chance. “Ignorance can be forgiven. But if you're willing to learn more…”

Her Grace's eyes flicked to a room. And like an excited puppy, the cardinal guides her. Altar boys bow as they say their goodbyes while I follow the two quietly. I held my hand on the wooden door before it was slammed closed, closing it behind me. In the dark musty room candles are its only light.

“Bringing your friend? The more, the merrier.”

Her Grace straightened. Her smile settled to a cold look of disgust. “I am surprised you haven't recognised her.” The duchess motioned for me to stand beside her. “-as a repeat customer of hers.”

The cardinal stepped back with wide eyes as he saw my sharp eyes and foreign shade of skin.”

“You…” scared eyes turn to her. “Duchess…” voice trembling, the cardinal dropped to the floor. “Your grace! I beg for your forgiveness!!”

“Disgusting. Putrid. Small, perverted man.” Each word a stab, the priest creased hearing such words uttered by a voice so soft. “I know it all. All is recorded.” Her grace crossed her arms, looking down at the fool with disdain. “One word from me and your shame can no longer be avoided by the church. All bare. With it being exposed, where could you go?”

“I could hire him. A man immune to most diseases is useful in my field.” I joked half seriously and I chuckled to myself as he squirmed.

“Do you understand, priest?” said the Duchess. The air became heavier with every syllable. Kneeling with his face on the dusty floor, the cardinal prostrated himself.

“I am yours. Why do you require, Your Grace?”

“Everything pertaining to the saint. Their histories, studies, research, and all knowledge on the usage of their powers.”

The cardinal head rushed up, blowing dust. “How…? HOW?!” the priest shouted, with a hint of a smile.

The duchess's jaw clenched in frustration.

“Do It. I will come every afternoon expecting my order to be done. If unsatisfactory, perhaps my husband will hear about your little disturbing trips. Do you comprehend?”

Stepping off the floor, the cardinal agreed with a nervous nod. “Such a task may require the need of your specialists.”

“Then they shall help.”

Scrambling off the floor to the door, the cardinal let us back out of the office. A group of curious boys wait outside, seemingly unaware of the spurning their priest took.

"Oh, thank you! Thank you so much!” The duchess goes to hug, making several boys blush. The Cardinal became a ruby in her grasp. Her Grace jumped back as if singed.

“Oh sorry! So stupid,” she playfully knocked her head. “You, priests, don’t that do? Hehe.”

With no circle in my chest, I still felt the urge to run to the men whose eyes were hungry for my duchess.

“Sirs.” I woke them up.

“Ye-yes. Meet me in the afternoons; sermons finish around then.”

“Can’t wait! Truly.” She winked at a priest who had fallen in love and walked to the exit proudly. I followed her, noticing her increasing her pace.

“How did I do?”

I pushed the cathedral doors open for her, smiling as I saw the half-scowl and half-grin of the priest in the closing entrance. “Very frightening indeed. May I ask, the saint, are they important to Friedmens?”

“As important as a deity…”

Saint. I eyed her. Her Grace’s radiant hair bounced as she strolled by me. I am sure she has been called that many times by many men.

We located the waiting carriage by the pavement. Another man in love ran forward. His gait, his glare towards me. Everything that he is threatened me. As if to say: Stay away from what's mine.

The coach driver stopped right in front of her. "Vanessa, are you alright?!”

“I am well, George.” The duchess replied coldly. “Please get ready to return us to the castle. I feel like drinking a few cups and taking a nice bath.”

The driver grabbed her arms with force, wiping her sleeves of invisible dirt.

“George.” She spoke with more authority in her voice. “Castle.”

“S-sorry.” Like a scolded dog, he sulked away.

“Let's go in, Beiye. A crowd is about to form. Oh, George. He is just very eager to prove himself. Spending a week cleaning muck can make a person keen to impress. I will tell him to temper it down next time.”

I nod slowly. ”I nod.” I escorted the duchess into the carriage, and from the corner of my eyes, I saw a driver frozen near their horses. I felt a chill run up my body. The horses felt the same fear and the jitter away from the mumbling commoner. I heard a sentence.

“He let you whore yourself to that bastard. Should I-”

He twisted his head, staring directly at me. A creepy smile spread slowly on his peculiar face and with a tip of his cap, he jumped straight into his seat.

With more fear in my heart than the horn ever gave me, I hurried into the carriage.

“Bieye, you’re sweating…What's happened?”

I swallowed. “That driver. Friend?”

She nodded. “Good Friend. Since childhood.”

I think of George wiping her sleeves.

I hid my anxiety with a smile.

“How wonderful!”

Tarion.

After the siege of Kirgfield.

“Bodies account for and sorted, Your Grace!” Holding my blade on his gloved palms, the young soldier shouted amidst the celebration. Osberg men somberly sang and clicked the cups of ale together for a successful siege. I tapped the cleaned and polished greatsword and into the inventory it went.

“Thorn. Where is he now?”

“The coroner's office, Your Grace.”

“Good, good, Lord Masse. And fine job out there. Your shield was stable this time.” I chuckled, and the young noble laughed with me. “Thanks to your training, Your Grace.” The soldier of Ceta saluted and went to join the rest of Ceta cheering him on.

A boy of 22. In a different life, we could have been mates.

I opened my palm, and my pocket watch flashed from my inventory. I flipped it open.

“I’ve made him wait enough.”

“What that, Your Grace!?” Jimmy shouted in the crowd with ale splashing from his cup. “Going out for a night engagement? Shall I tell ya missus!? HAHAHAH!”

I came off my stool and pushed the drunkard to the floor with a gale. Ale splashed on his dark blue uniform while his squad laughed until their bellies hurt.

“I will be back in a few.”

“We won't miss you here, sober bastard!” Jimmy slipped on his beer and the crowd laughed louder.

A mana-tether opened the front door of the pub, and I flew into the night sky with a gust. Points allocated to mana capacity and intelligence, a great push carried me across the land I had captured. The stars shine down on the acres of dark fields below. I felt a power beyond understanding. He called me.

“Oh, he is pissed.” I followed the pulse of mana, slipping through trees to land safely on the grass. Fire brightened the large trees. The fire turned into two, then four, and then eight, dancing around the shadowed figure sitting on the stump of a recently cut tree.

“Do you usually make your guests wait this long?” The man stood up, flame taillike dancing faeries.

“Apologies, Your Highness. Time passed from too much fun.”

The prince sniffed from metres away. “No alcohol on your breath.”

I shrugged. “Cleaned my teeth. Have to be presentable before appearing in front of the future king.”

“Stop talking, Sixth Circle.”

Kyros’ face was only an inch away from me. Our heights matching, he stared into me. His mana encompassed everything. With a click of his finger, the forest catches fire. A wave of the hand and a hurricane sweep the country. With the stomp of his feet, the earth below becomes his to control. The pseudo-mage raised his hand.

Kyros patted my left shoulder with a jolly smile. “You’ve passed. Continue as you’ve done. But…” The prince let go, turning on his heels. I rolled my sore shoulder. “Send word of your next stunt, Cousin. Impress me.” The prince tore through the air, breaking the sound barrier almost instantaneously. Only my own gale held me from tumbling into the woods. I dropped to heavy knees, breathing harshly. The strongest warrior on earth. Beyond Overpowered, he is plot armour manifest. And my rival.

The Prince will let us be. Next phase.