"We need to discuss your future," Priestess Evelyn said.
Elin shrugged. "What is there to talk about? My place is with Walter."
Moments ago, Sister Lora fetched Elin and escorted her to the priestess's tent. It displayed the same cluttered organization since the last time Elin stood before Priestess Evelyn. Though, unlike before, a look of irritation played across both their faces.
Priestess Evelyn expected a level of formality that Elin disregarded. Elin stood with her weight on one foot and let herself be distracted by the furniture, her eyes resting on an extra cot. Her attitude exhibited the apathy of a mercenary instead of a knight with excessive military discipline. A burlap sack hung over Elin's shoulder.
While Priestess Evelyn waited for Elin to correct her behavior, she looked her over. The girl healed, and she removed most of her medicinal wrappings, but she moved cautiously and stiffly. Despite her wounds, she did not scar. A marriage could be arranged easily.
When the moment threatened to turn into a staring match, Priestess Evelyn broke the silence and initiated the dialog.
"Do you not understand the situation?" The priestess furrowed her eyebrows. "After you defeated that powerful monster, the other kingdoms have realized a [Hero] was summoned, so they're leveraging political pressure. They're demanding an investigation."
"That has nothing to do with us, with Walter and I."
Priestess Evelyn leaned forward, "It has everything to do with you, child. Treaties were broken. Summoning a [Hero], without unanimous consent from all the leaders, will be misinterpreted as an act of war. You already know if they learn Walter exists, then they might send assassins. It was the reason for hiding him in the first place."
Elin fell silent.
"You need to step forward and meet this head-on," the priestess continued, "Take credit for the monster's defeat and publicly declare yourself the champion. Leave Walter in our care, we'll take care of him. This world needs you to defend it, and you need to think of a suitable partner for your children. Your father, Lord Rich--"
"Of all the women in the world," Elin shouted and pointed her finger, "you do not get to entreat his name to manipulate me!" Immediately after her outburst, Elin closed her eyes and forced a breath. Once she calmed, she fixed her stare at Priestess Evelyn.
"I see," the priestess whispered, "You knew. You must hate me."
"I've always known, and I never hated you. I still don't. My father chose my mother because it was the most rational choice, the two of them would produce heroic children. It worked. My mom, for all her adherence to principle, couldn't leave it as a business exchange, and she strived to win him over. So, what you did to them is unforgivable, but I can guess why it happened. You sent me into the woods, alone, under the influence of a carnal curse, with a stranger, and you hoped the two of us would develop feelings. Congratulations, it succeeded. But, like my mother, I do not care for dispassionate reasoning. Save your sophistry."
Priestess Evelyn said, "Laria performed [Scan II] upon Walter. His personal magic is gone, and his level status completely reset, restarting at one. He's weak. He'll hold you back because you'll have to spend all your time protecting him."
"If it is corrected to one, instead of zero," Elin smiled, "that means he has a future, and with time he'll be able to do whatever he wants." She tossed the bag on the ground in front of Priestess Evelyn's desk. It rattled, full of metal. "This armor belongs to the church, so assign it to another. I denounced Gaia, and, as of now, I resign."
"I won't give up on you, that easily, child."
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Walter recovered much slower than Elin, and she jealously nursed him. She permitted no one alone with him, except for Laria, whom she patiently tolerated, and Favian. She refused to humor her brother's boisterousness while Walter was bedridden, however, and Favian yielded.
When Laria visited, Walter spoke in hushed tones, from exhaustion, regarding her farsight. But, before he did, he asked her about her day. She said, "You're the only one that doesn't treat me like a religious artifact." Laria took his hand and placed it on top of her head. He tenderly rubbed her hair. Elin didn't understand what, 'Third-Person View,' and, 'Moving the Camera,' and 'Toggling Screenshot Mode,' meant. Laria deciphered Walter's explanations with difficulty, but, over time, somehow improved.
Favian explained his situation, the temple rescinded his sinecure and banned him from temple grounds. Some wanted him excommunicated, but the head priest favored him. "The old codger has a soft spot for troublemakers."
"What will you do now?" Elin asked, "I didn't discuss it with Walter yet, but I know he'll welcome you when we get a place."
Favian looked to the West. "Thanks, but no thanks. I've saved up some coins, and I've always thrived in the field. I'll visit the United Barbarian Tribes. I want to know where my mother came from."
The next day, Favian said his goodbyes, hugged Elin and bought a seat on a Wagoneer's convoy. The convoy leader tracked them down, the very same one she stole the horse from, and returned the pouch of silver coins. "I can't fault you for what you did. I would have done the same." Their financial difficulties went from bleak to manageable.
Early snow fell by the time Walter could move under his own power, but it didn't stick and melted quickly. Elin wanted to leave Camp Wolf posthaste.
"What do you want to do?" she sat on the edge of Walter's cot.
Stolen from its rightful place, this narrative is not meant to be on Amazon; report any sightings.
Walter opened one eye, "Share this cot with you."
She snorted, and, despite herself, crawled under the blanket with him. "No taking advantage, it's cold, and we're just sharing body heat. I meant, what's your goal? What do you want us to do, long term? You wanted to join the Mages Guild, right?"
"You know," Walter yawned, "magic isn't all it's cracked up to be. I have an idea, though."
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Walter studied the silver coin in his hand, roughly twice the size of a quarter and much thicker. They were clearly minted for robustness. The pouch, while not full, hung from his belt like a small barbell.
Now I get why men carry the money, it's not necessarily a control thing. Look at Elin, walking around all light and happy. I'll show her, every time she wants some money, I'm going to tease her to death.
The 'One Coin' decree dictated a single silver coin is the market value for one day's worth of expenses for one person. What that entailed differed based on the time of year because goods and foods were seasonal. A buyer expected to obtain a small cask of ale, a smattering of vegetables, a few ounces of meat, a piece of fruit, and a loaf of bread. Included under the decree was, 'an hour's worth of light,' and a handful of sundries.
Elin explained the writing on the coin meant, 'Minted in Letun.' Each city issued its own currency, and could only be spent there. If they moved, they would have to start over at scratch. The restraint prevented too many resources from being moved from one city to another, leaving it in peril. Hoarding too much silver, unless you possessed title, was a crime. Gold coins, equivalent to a year's worth of expenses, had less restriction, but they were the currency of nobility.
Silver coins masqueraded as money, they're actually ration cards. It's easy to forget this world is perpetually at war. Walled cities are little more than lifeboats in a sea of monsters, and everyone is treading water. No, it's just my perspective, because of her.
Walter glanced across their personal campsite, a spot they nestled into between Camp Wolf and Letun. The beauty he looked at happily performed household chores for him. Although she didn't use paladin abilities, revoked after cursing Gaia, she looked more at peace, like a weight lifted off her shoulders. When she removed her armor, Walter saw the heroic Lady Elin Folcey. But, when he looked beyond her lineage, he noticed a lonely girl, eager to please and desperate for notice.
Walter didn't like seeing Elin lonely, so he nudged her from behind to remind her he was there. She glanced over her shoulder with a smile.
"Hey." After hanging his shirt up, she took his hand and dragged him to the wool mat they slept on. "Come with me for a second."
"Again?"
"Uh-huh."
The autumn air was crisp, but her thighs were warm. Walter expected the sexual tension to decrease when the [Scales of Love and Lust] dispelled, but the opposite happened. Elin's aggressive submissiveness kept him off balance, and his faltering spurred her on.
"I know you know more," she gasped, "Show me everything."
"Elin, some of it might be a little..."
"I want to." Her voice was firm. "If you like it, then I want to do it." She agreed not to cross the last line, for now.
They could afford such lustful carelessness because of Elin's Level 100 presence. Monsters dared not to approach. Those foolish enough to attack met a quick end, either from Elin's sword or Walter's [Magic Missile].
Walter retained that one spell from the boss fight, and it lacked friendly fire complications. Elin rolled her eyes when Walter explained he thought it was a beginner's spell. He could direct it with his 'mind-pointer,' the only leftover from his [Grimoire] magic, but he could also neglect it, and it would automatically track targets. Hiding behind obstacles would not protect a monster from Walter. Its potency was weak, but he predicted the spell would grow more powerful with him. She promised to herself to make sure Walter leveled up.
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The wind changed direction, and it carried the iciness of the north. Walter and Elin coped by cocooning in blankets, but winter only started, and they expected it to get colder.
Their choices: freeze in the open field's wind, or freeze from a lack of sunlight between the buildings of Letun. They saved money by splitting bread and ale between them and avoiding rent, but the exposure would soon be too much.
Fighting for the Adventurer's Guild became a job, and less of a risk, though both Walter and Elin stayed on their toes. Monstraculture declined with winter, so prices improved.
"Let's get our own place soon," Elin suggested, "With a kitchen and privacy."
Sister Lora appeared before them in the street. When Elin noticed her, she froze, and slowly shook her head. Elin didn't act in denial, it was threatening, so Sister Lora bowed her head and backed away.
"What was that about?" Walter asked.
"It's nothing," Elin said, "I want to buy new armor, nothing metal. What do you think? Do you like the kinds of armor the heroines used to wear, the kind that exposed their skin? Don't think I forgot how you looked at me in that pleated skirt."
"Don't change the subject. Sister Lora is asking you to return, right? What about your duty? Isn't it important to you? Why are you acting like a rebellious teenager?"
Elin stepped away, and Walter caught her by the upper arm before she could escape. His grip lacked force, barely more than a touch, and even an ordinary woman could pull free, let alone an exceptional one like her. Yet, her willpower melted, and she couldn't resist. He forced her to stay with that little.
She lowered her eyes to the ground. "Yes. After the winter, there might be a war. If I enter battle, then I will undoubtedly kill many. If I don't act, many will still die. My only real choice is picking between having you and fulfilling my duty. Now I know how you felt with the [Grimoire]. This is horrible. Tell me what to do, Walter."
"Who says you'll lose me?" Walter asked.
"I won't allow you on the battlefield, forget it."
"These aggressive distractions you've been creating make sense now. You seem to forget, you can't tell me what to do anymore." He tapped his chin. "Isn't it customary for a knight to enter the field with a squire, anyway? How about one that's also a mage? If you have to fight, then I will, too. It's that simple."
"Will you be upset," she asked, "if I have to take credit for being the [Hero]?"
"Why would I be mad? You did most of the work, anyway, so you were the hero there. How is it this time you're the one overthinking things? Silly woman. It's more than an even trade if I give up credit and keep you."
She nodded.
"Don't wear metal armor."
After covering her mouth to trap a laugh, she wiped her eyes before tears could fall, "Yes, of course, anything you want. But I want it dyed red. And it has to have cleavage with a pleated skirt."
"Add thigh-high boots," he said, "and you look better in white."
"Walter!" She acted with mock indignity, then hung her arms over his neck. "How dare you order me what to wear! You do understand your duties as a squire, correct?"
"Elin, that was a joke, a cover story--"
"You have to maintain my armor, and help me don and remove it."
"Serving Lady Elin Folcey is my sworn duty."