Rise of Winter, Week 4, Day 4

Freddie’s grandfather had insisted that she ride in his carriage on the way back to the estate, which Freddie was confused by —at first. It was cleared up almost immediately, as his jovial expression dropped once the door to the carriage was closed and they were alone. His eyes spoke of a concern so deep it bordered on dangerous.

“Who was it?” He asked.

Freddie leaned back into the cushions and crossed her arms. Her gaze drifted out the window, away from her overprotective grandfather.

“I don’t know what you mean,” she said to the window.

Duke Frederick gave an unamused huff, “I’m sure. It’s not as if I am well versed in the study of Divinity and how one acquires it.”

Freddie hummed noncommittally.

“A Divine descended, Fredericka,” he said, leaning forward and clasping his hands together. “I need to know the damage.”

Freddie sighed, “What if I don’t want you to know? Will you command me to obey anyway? Just as you commanded me to sleep? Will you force my hand?”

As she spoke, her voice grew fierce. Gone was the soft girl who’d proclaimed her love. Now she was the fighter she’d suddenly become after Awakening. Freddie’s grandfather did not seem displeased by the accusation—rather, he looked bashful.

“That was for your own comfort, Freddie,” he started. “I would never do that to you now that you are adjusted and Awakened. Not unless you were a danger to yourself or others. It would be an abuse of my Divinity.”

Freddie turned back to her grandfather, orange eyes meeting orange eyes. She studied him, looking at the way his shoulders were straight, despite the way he was so clearly asking for her forgiveness. The way his eyes were hard, even when he asked for her understanding. This was the Duke of Nemo. Strong, yet caring. Steadfast, even in the face of what he feared —losing Freddie’s heart.

Thus, Freddie decided to trust in her grandfather. Against Kalina’s better judgment.

“It was Minare,” she admitted.

“Surely she didn’t…” Her grandfather’s brow furrowed, and he leaned forward intently.

“She gave me two Skills and more than enough Divinity to pass the First Threshold,” Freddie continued.

“That’s…” Once again, he trailed off, rubbing his chin roughly. “That’s dangerous. What are the Skills called?”

Freddie pulled up the two Skills. “[Nemoan Protectorate] and [Nemoan Martyr].”

The Duke froze, and when he spoke his voice was measured, careful, forcefully calm, “I will not be asking their descriptions. But I am assuming you have yet to look at them. Please do so now.”

Shrugging, Freddie pulled up the Skills.

“[Inspect] [Inspect]”

[Nemoan Protectorate: You have attracted the attention of the Goddess of Family Ties, Minare. Due to your pleas, Minare has gifted you with the ability to identify where your immediate family members are, up to the second generation, within a vicinity equal to your Divinity times 10 kilometers. Minare uses this to ensure her family is still entombed where they were laid to rest. Distance increases per level. This Skill is Active. This Skill is dependent on your Divinity attribute being above 100.]

[Nemoan Martyr: You have attracted the attention of the Goddess of Family Ties, Minare. Due to your pleas, Minare has gifted you with the ability to take wounds upon yourself instead of an immediate family member, up to the second generation, within a vicinity equal to your Divinity times 10 kilometers. Minare attempted to use this Skill when Oberon fell, but, alas, he was out of range. She hopes that is not your fate. Distance increases per level. This Skill is Passive and cannot be disrupted by mortal means. Skill Level is directly tied to the Level of Nemoan Protectorate. This Skill is dependent on the existence of Minare persisting.]

“Are you finished?” The Duke’s voice maintained that careful neutrality that itched Freddie’s hindbrain.

“I am,” Freddie responded slowly, her mouth dry.

“Does [Nemoan Martyr] do what I think it does?” Her grandfather’s gaze was desperate, asking her to lie. To say it was benign.

“It… she called it a curse. And at my current level, she is correct.” Freddie said carefully.

“Then I will give Tiltham a new directive.”

The Duke paused, closing his eyes and thinking. When he re-opened his eyes, his gaze met Freddie’s once more.

“You will dive into the dungeon until she is no longer able to protect you. Forget stopping at the 5th Floor. You will run each floor until its challenges are no match for you. You will eradicate every monster twice —no, thrice. If the Queen challenges me over it, I will use my pardon. You will leave the dungeon so strong, no Skill granted by a mere Goddess will threaten you.”

Freddie's mouth widened into a feral grin, “Deal.”

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Arriving back at the estate found them in contemplative silence. For Freddie, that meant brainstorming ways to integrate her previous fighting style in with her flames —being a ranged mage was never in the cards for her, so it’ll be about learning Unarmed Fighting Skills and short distance Weapon Skills. The Duke, however, had a look of deep consternation on his face. Freddie chose to ignore it.

This tale has been unlawfully lifted from Royal Road; report any instances of this story if found elsewhere.

They arrived before Bridian and Aster, but only just. As they disembarked, the Duke remained silent, and Freddie remained shadowboxing in her head. Plotting and planning for any attack.

Not that there was any. It had been an anomaly that Argon wasn’t found by the guards first. An unfortunate accident caused by new patrol schedules that, well, weren’t working. That, mixed with new guards, did not protection make. Freddie didn’t really mind, though, as there were plenty of guards within the manor proper should something have reached the doors.

Yet another fluke that no one had looked out the window at that given time.

It was probably [Otherworldly] that allowed such a coincidence to occur when the Void Knights are usually so cautious. Freddie found herself thinking, running through the possibilities, but in the end, she decided to simply write it off as her Skill.

It was a Passive that could be empowered. It would level slowly on its own, or she could actively run to fateful encounters.

It was something to think about. But Freddie wasn’t really one for strategy. Instead, she was a bull-headed fighter—and she was okay with that. If all her strategy was was the best way to punch, she had no issue with that part of her.

She’d decided to randomly activate it throughout the day to see where it brought her.

An amused huff escaped her, and her grandfather looked at her with an arched brow, but she shook her head.

“It’s nothing, just a funny thought,” Freddie said.

“Yes, well, go, eat lunch and freshen up. The party starts in a few short hours.” Her grandfather ordered, and Freddie mock-saluted in response.

“And, Fred,” he called after her as she was headed to the dining room, “Do something about that burn on your hand, please.”

Oh. She thought, looking down at the angry red mark that touching Minare had left. It had barely faded in the hour since the injury occurred. I forgot to hide it.

[Regenerate]

Perhaps it was the Divine nature of the wound that caused it to resist the Skill. And, perhaps, it was the Divine nature of the Skill that allowed Freddie to continue to push through that resistance. Not entirely, of course, because a wound caused by an ancient Goddess was not truly healable by a First Tier child.

But the angry red color did settle down into a pale gold. It stuck out on Freddie’s tan, the scar glittering unnaturally.

“Is this caused by the First Threshold?” She wondered aloud, holding her hand up and examining the new scar.

Across the hall, a knight in full black plate armor shook his head quickly and turned on his heel. Freddie heard him whisper under his breath as he went.

“I’m not supposed to know that!”

Freddie watched him speed away and huffed a laugh, crossing her arms. “Oops?”

She decided it didn’t really matter, and the knight would probably keep it to himself…

She’d tell her grandfather about it later.

When she arrived at the dining room, she found the door propped open. Before she looked in, she decided to use one of her new Skills.

“[Nemoan Protectorate],” Freddie said under her breath.

At once, she knew what she could not have known. She felt what she should not feel. And the location of her family sprouted in her mind’s eye. Hue, Les, and Gene were in the dining room, huddled up next to one another. The Duke was headed behind her and to the right, in the direction of his office. Her parents were diagonal, in the direction of the main entrance.

Freddie jumped into the room with a screeched, “GAH!!”

And she watched all three of her brothers tumble in fright, which caused her to wince.

Not because she was worried about them… quite the opposite, actually. She felt her knee grow tender, and one of her fingers ached.

[Nemoan Martyr] was going to be difficult.

But these wounds were superficial at best, so she empowered [Regenerate] with a burst of magma and felt the pain melt away.

“Triplets,” Freddie said seriously as if she had not just shouted for all the manor to hear, her arms crossed as she looked down at the pile of limbs that was quickly becoming her brothers once more.

“Sissy!” They called, out of sync, as the righted themselves and sat back at the table.

“How’d it go?” Hue asked excitedly.

“Did you Affirm?” Les followed up quickly.

“Or are you secretly not our sister at all, and mother took you in as a baby?” Gene rushed out.

Freddie covered her heart with her palm and backed up dramatically, gasping, “Genie! You wound me so! I’ll have you know I did perfectly. Your sister is the official Heir of House Nemo, now!”

Gene laughed, and that was when Freddie clocked Grisham, the triplets’ Governor, sitting at the table looking at the boys fondly. Freddie settled in next to him with a smile.

“Hey, Grish.”

“Lady Fredericka,” Grisham nodded, unperturbed at the nickname. Likely from having dealt with the triplets' antics for so long.

Idle chatter and some good food later, Freddie was headed back to her room when she saw Tiltham passing by the main entrance.

“Tilly!” Freddie called, causing the woman to pause in her tracks and turn to Freddie was a blank look.

“My Lady,” she said after a prolonged pause, nodding in Freddie’s direction.

“Warm as always, Knight Captain Tiltham,” Freddie laughed, and Tiltham almost seemed to preen.

Then, her countenance shifted back to dull and serious.

“Could you explain to me why one of my knights is hiding from the main house?” She said, peering down her nose at Freddie.

Freddie, to her credit, did not lose her jovial smile as she lied, “Not a clue. Anyway, I’m off to prepare for the party tonight. You’ll be there, yeah?”

Tiltham sighed, “Indeed. It is, unfortunately, my job.”

“That’s the spirit!” Freddie said, bounding up the stairs, “I’ll see you there!”

“Does she even listen to the tone or what?”

Freddie laughed her way back to her room.

“Your misery is my joy, Tilly,” she said aloud as she opened the door to her room and began straightening herself up for the party celebrating her successful Affirmation.

The triplets would be unable to attend as they were not yet Awakened. But the rest of her family would be there, and loads of nobles her age that had already Awakened and had their own Affirmations. It was effectively a debut ball to show off the Heir of Nemo. If Freddie had been the second born, she likely would not have even had a party to celebrate. It simply wasn’t the way.

Not that Freddie would allow the triplets to go through their Affirmation without a big to-do, she thought to herself.