On Family Day, Asha wants to kill Monique, Valora, and all the servants.
It’s not even SUNRISE.
They drag her out of bed before dawn, insisting she needs to get ready, and Asha has never exercised as much patience as she does now.
By the time the clock in her room shows twelve though, she forgets all such thoughts as she stares at the young woman in the looking glass.
This is...me?
I look pretty.
Her belief in her beauty had been unshakeable, before Rayleigh’s words and actions had worn it down and she’d begun to think herself the ugliest woman in the world, like he said she was.
I thought I was horrible to look at, so disgusting I make people want to vomit, but now...
Diore’s blue dress sparkles as she turns, shimmers as she stands still. It’s not ostentatious - entirely subdued in its magnificence - but it brings out Asha’s eyes and pale complexion perfectly, highlights her slender build while giving her curves in all the right places.
And thanks to the Snowfalls, her makeup and hairstyle perfectly accentuate her dress and looks - waves of moonlight cascading down her back from the high ponytail, kohl and pearl powder highlighting large blue eyes and heart-shaped face subtly.
“Thank you for making me beautiful.”
The Snowfalls are famous for their professionalism - discounting Monique’s regular fights with Valora, and the way everyone fusses over Asha - but at that moment they lose all composure as eyes and faces redden.
Even her father is at a loss for words when he walks in to escort her, wide sapphires blinking in astonishment, throat working as her mother’s name slips out before the Count can catch himself.
You miss her a lot, don’t you daddy?
Asha’s mother, Selena, had been a High Mage - a position just below Magic Grandmaster, and a title that afforded her the power and status of a Count despite her commoner roots.
Her parents had been madly in love, the Count acting completely out of character and proposing at first sight in the middle of a bloody battlefield, and even until now Asha’s father visited her mother’s grave often whenever he was back in the north.
I’ll make you both proud this time. I’ll make everyone in our House proud this time.
“Oh my gosh, daddy you look so majestic!”
Those words make her father blind her with his smile, then they’re linking arms and heading to the carriage, Asha sending a silent prayer to her late mother to look after them so everything goes well today.
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Lively music and joyful chatter reach her ears long before she alights the carriage, and despite herself Asha can’t help but act like a child as she takes in the sights, sounds, and smells of the festival.
WOW.
It’s been years - including her past future - since she’s been to the festival, because Rayleigh had always refused to attend with her or cancelled at the last minute since she’d turned sixteen.
“Daddy! You must be hungry, so let’s go eat!”
Has he always looked so happy?
Grinning is easy as she grabs his arm and drags her father towards the nearest stall. It’s easier still when she sees how touched her father is that she insists on paying, even though it’s technically money he gives her.
I need to start making my own coin.
After having their fill of skewers and buns, Asha insisting on buying food and drinks for their attendants as well, they meander through the festival grounds, often being stopped by citizens wanting to thank the Hero of the Empire for saving their lives or the lives of their loved ones.
I’m so proud of you, daddy. And I’m so glad I’m your daughter.
When she tells him that, the Count bursts into tears and Asha frantically tries to dab away the moisture with her handkerchief as their knights and servants sniffle around them.
What’s WRONG with all of you?!
They’re in public, and as a noble house are required to comport themselves with dignity, yet no one seems to mind, if the watery eyes of commoners within earshot are any indication.
She pulls her father over to a game booth once he’s calmed down, paying the three copper coin fee and picking up a little wooden ring with trembling hands.
I can do this.
Despite abandoning her swordsmanship studies years ago, Asha has always been talented with the bow and throwing knives.
When her first throw sees the ring land on the smallest bottle hidden among the array, her father and attendants are proud but not surprised.
I can do this!
She chooses a cute white kitten plush toy when her father insists on her picking the prize, handing it over to him with all the pride of a knight returning victorious from war with the enemy king’s head, and yet again the Winter Count tears up.
“Dad...”
“I’m sorry, baby, it’s just that I’m so happy to get a gift from my angel.”
Don’t cry, don’t cry, DON’T cry.
Smiling up at him, she asks: “Shall we go to another booth so I can win you more prizes, daddy?”
The look on his face makes every pain in the world worth the suffering.
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By the end of the night, Asha is pleasantly surprised by the number of commoners she’s gotten to know. The Lambergs are notorious for not caring about status, since they’d worked as mercenaries for generations and only became aristocrats in Asha’s great-grandfather’s time, but even so non-northern imperial citizens tended to keep a distance.
I used Medea’s status against her often, didn’t I?
> ”Have you no shame?”
Arrogance is behavior unbecoming of a Lamberg, and once again Asha wonders at just how hard her father had worked behind the scenes to smooth things over on her behalf.
> “Why do you insist on behaving in such a dishonorable manner?”
I’m doing better this time, right?
The number of prizes being cradled protectively by her father and their retinue, as well as their red eyes and broad smiles, tells Asha all she needs to know.
Thank you, gods, for listening to my mother’s plea on my behalf and keeping us safe and happy today.
When they return to the manor, all the lights are on and they’re swarmed by knights and servants excitedly wanting to hear about the Lambergs’ first father-daughter excursion in years.
Thank you, gods, for giving me one more chance.
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On the third day of the festival, the manor is in an uproar once more when Asha has a fever.
Monique later tells her that the gardeners had brought every herb in the gardens to the head chef for Ellis Snowfall to use in meals for Asha.
Meanwhile, according to Valora, the Winterblades had descended en masse on every potion shop in the capital and bought up all the fever and strengthening tonics they could, though of course the Count had immediately compensated them for the cost incurred (according to Valora, the knights had refused to accept a single coin until the Grandmaster had beaten all of them in a mass duel).
I’m going to need to find another excuse.
It wouldn’t do to deprive citizens of medicine just because she’s faking illness.
When news spreads that Rayleigh had taken Medea to the festival on Lovers’ Day, however, the knights descend on the stores and buy up every aura and mana recovery potion, as well as numerous poisons and magic weapons. The Count once again compensates them for everything after a fight, and he doesn’t stop the Snowfalls from starting to learn to wield weapons.
This is getting out of hand.
Rayleigh requests to meet her once she recovers, and this time Asha chooses that quiet hilltop as a location because she’s starting to worry about her household committing treason.
He’s waiting for her, and Asha’s chest twinges at this reminder of how much the Grand Duke loves Medea, before she lowers her gaze and greets him.
“I heard about what your knights did.”
> ”Do you think you can always act with impunity?”
No need to warn me.
“I’ll get them under control, your highness.”
When he’s quiet for awhile, Asha wonders how else to swear House Lamberg’s loyalty so they don’t end up dead.
“I’d expect no less from your House, Lady Asha.” Is it just me, or does he sound amused? That can’t be though. He hates me. Although I suppose he doesn’t hate my House right now, especially when he respects dad so much.
> ”You are a mockery of a Lamberg.”
“My apologies, your highness.” She bows low, mind racing a mile a minute.
“No need to apologize. House Lamberg prizes honor and loyalty.” He sounds almost warm...when was the last time I heard him like this? “More importantly, I heard you were the one who helped teacher develop the strategy for our victory over the pirates.” WHAT?!
This time Asha can’t help herself, as her head snaps up and her mouth gapes. It’s only when she realizes she’s staring at a chiseled face with brilliant ruby eyes under messy black hair, only when her heart starts to ache because she’s loved this man since she was a child but he’s hated her since then, that she realizes she’s made a mistake and hastily looks down while apologizing.
“What are you sorry for?”
There it is. That hard, unreadable voice.
> ”Do you even possess the ability to be sorry?”
“For any transgressions I may have unknowingly made, your highness.”
“Unknowingly, huh.”
Gritting her teeth at that sardonic tone, Asha wonders once again why he seems to have such a grudge against her.
“Forget it.” Huh? “I’m surprised you were able to provide such insight.”
> ”Is there a fool greater than you?”
ASSHOLE.
Glaring at his well polished boots, Asha snaps. “I’m a Lamberg, your highness. Or have you forgotten?”
He’s quiet for a few seconds, before he responds. “Is that so? I must have mistaken you for some vapid little noblewoman from another sire.”
DEMONS TAKE YOU.
Asha has been taught not to strike first unless her life or the lives of her loved ones are at stake, but she’s also never been good at following orders.
A large, gloved hand catches her fist a hair’s breadth from a tanned cheek, before crimson eyes are boring into her own sapphires.
Oh no no NO. I made a mistake, I’ve doomed us all, I need to...
“I’m sorry.” When was the last time those red eyes showed anything other than hatred towards her? “I didn’t mean to insult you or teacher like that.”
Talk is cheap. Especially when you killed me AND your teacher yourself.
Glaring at him, Asha bites out: “Let. Me. Go.”
Those eyes - usually so cold and cruel - are assessing and curious, before the Grand Duke releases her fist, so small in comparison to his hand. Immediately Asha backs away and looks down at the ground once more.
> ”For your sins, Asha Lamberg, you are hereby sentenced to…”
How do I fix this? How do I save us? I know him - he'll seize any chance he can get to take my words and actions as proof I deserve to be punished. He did it all the time back then. And as the only heir of my House, what I do has a direct correlation to how dad and everyone else is treated - if I mess up even the slightest, our enemies will take the opportunity to destroy us, just like they did in that future.
It’s a few minutes of silence, before Rayleigh sighs. “I’m sorry, Lady Asha. I didn’t mean it.” Bullshit. “I’ll apologize to teacher formally as well.” I won’t hold my breath. “Won’t you say something?”
> “Why would I ever desire to speak with you?”
How about no?
When she stubbornly holds her tongue, Rayleigh sighs once more, though his tone seems both frustrated and amused when he speaks. “Be that way if you must, Lady Asha, but I’m in need of your counsel about my courtship of Medea.”
Of course you are.
Though Rayleigh had achieved the level of Senior Swordmaster at a young age, and is widely lauded for his intelligence, he’s never had to pursue a woman in his life. Despite being engaged to Asha on the Emperor’s orders since he was twelve, the Grand Duke has never had a shortage of women throwing themselves at him literally and figuratively.
This is the first time you’re taking the initiative, isn’t it?
> ”Are you even aware of how burdensome your incessant demands are?”
It hurts terribly that it’s for someone else, but Asha stomps on the stupid feelings in her chest viciously.
“Your highness, in the lead up to the Fall Hunt and in addition to escorting her to parties, perhaps your highness should take Lady Medea to the opera, art gallery, and poetry recitals. I’m sure she’d love it.”
“You’re ‘sure’? How do you know what Medea likes?” The tone is menacing, and instantly Asha recoils.
> ”How dare you harm Medea?”
Oh shit oh shit. I know this because I’m from the future and I heard Medea say so, but...
“Your highness, please forgive me.” She bows hastily. “I simply meant that most women would enjoy such activities, since they’re opportunities to indulge in one’s interests while spending time with someone close to heart.”
“Hmm.” What do I say? How do I make him believe me? “‘Most women’, you say?”
> ”Do you even know how to be a woman?”
Bowing even lower, Asha rushes to reassure him. “Yes, your highness. These activities will likely please Lady Medea especially, since they are filled with beauty.”
“Are you saying Medea is superficial?”
WHAT?! Gods, please calm this man down! Even for someone who hates me, that's too much!
“Not at all, your highness!” Why do you always find fault with every word I say? What did I ever do to deserve this? “I merely meant that art, music, and poetry are things that make life worth living for.”
“...I see.”
Rayleigh leaves without a word not long after, and Asha breathes a sigh of relief, glad that Monique had secured plenty of stomach medicine for her.
Please marry Medea and leave House Lamberg alone, Ray.
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MOONRISE BY LUNASEA: CHAPTER 4 END