“How did it come to this…”

That’s the question I want to ask. Our journey to the north was meant to be a simple thing. The equivalent of the social hunts in Summer Spire, where people of far more status than ability ride around in their well-furnished carriages, drinking the day away while servants and guards do their hunting for them.

They bring back a nice trophy to show off to their friends while recounting the life-threatening heroics they never performed. Pretty men and women fawn over them and thoughtless peasants believe the exaggerated rumors they purposely spread to bolster their reputations in order to counter the likely much more true negative rumors surrounding them.

That should have been me. I enjoy a pleasant walk through the scenic snow with Alana, build a nice little love nest for us to enjoy for winters to come along with some tall walls and fortified buildings for the knights to stay in, and then win the favor of her family before returning with plenty of war stories to bolster my reputation. We return to our home at the Grand Hall with fond memories and no trouble.

How far we’ve come from that. Our pleasant walk became a slog through a horrible, monster-infested wasteland. Monsters I thoroughly underestimated. Monsters that are actual threats. I didn’t think anything on this continent could challenge me. Heh, if I’m being honest, I might have thought there were few things in the world that could threaten me now. I was very wrong.

So, not the easy-going stroll I thought it would be. Far more stressful than I anticipated. Worse, we had to abandon any thoughts of building anything in the north after learning of the delicate peace enforced by the Lords of Winter, the estrazi. A group we know little about. A situation that has potential implications for the safety of the world if the vague warnings of Khan are to be believed.

There’s also little chance of impressing her family. Oh, I’m sure our strength works strongly in our favor. Unfortunately, I’m sure that is going to be overshadowed by the fact that I’m dragging away the duke’s daughter. Alana chose her life with me over her duty to her family. Maybe not forever. I’m sure with some time, training, and more information, she’d be more than willing to fight alongside her father. Too bad he isn’t offering those things. The duke demands immediate and unquestioned loyalty. He also does not strike me as the forgiving type.

I won’t even mention her mother. That is a thorny relationship if I’ve ever seen one. If I were the understanding type, I’d say the harsh words she flung at her daughter were said in the heat of the moment, a product of shock and hurt having her ambitions for her daughter, a noble’s love, rejected. I’m not very understanding. In my eyes, she seems like a manipulative, bitter bitch but I keep my opinion to myself. Alana has a complicated relationship with her mother. One I am not confident probing without protection, or at least a healthy amount of caution.

I sigh beside her, sprawled out on my back atop her bed. We’ve been lying here since the disastrous conversation, trying to relax. It hasn’t worked. Alana might as well be a wooden board. Kierra left to bring back drinks, having become fed up with the tense silence. She’s going to bludgeon Alana’s feelings until she loses the battle to keep her composure. Before that happens, I have a different approach in mind.

“What do you think about going to Dusk next year?”

Alana turns to look at me from the corner of her eye. “Dusk? Kierra’s home, right?”

“Mm. I’ve been saying we should visit. We didn’t get the chance to stay long after the wedding and I should spend some time getting to know her family.” No matter how anxiety-inducing the thought is.

“Speaking of families, I still haven’t met yours.”

“You aren’t missing out on much.”

She huffs. “That’s a terrible way to talk about your father.”

“I don’t…” I reconsider my words given the most recent encounter with her parents. “My father isn’t a bad man. He also isn’t a great man. Truly, he is quite the average man with an above average interest in his passion. And our relationship is also average. Ah, for nobles. Which as I’m sure you know means we barely interacted. Hard to find something to brag about.”

“…you don’t talk about your mother much.”

“That’s because there’s even less to talk about there.” I shift, feeling a sudden bout of uncomfortableness. Alana stops my fiddling by turning on her side and throwing an arm over my stomach. I really don’t like talking about this but, given I want her to open up, it can’t hurt for me to do the same.

“It’s not a long story. When my father was not a grumpy, old man, he attended the Grand Hall to further his career as a summoner. There he met a lovely young woman who had failed at being a caster and thought to try her luck with summoning. Which, according to Father, is the way the Summoner Hall gets most of its attending acolytes.

As a traditional summoner, he wowed her with his knowledge, or so he says. Managed to convince a woman to sleep with him without a financial exchange being involved, or so he says. Makes me wonder what kind of pervert my mother was.”

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“She did give birth to you.”

I poke her in the chest as she chuckles. “You’re supposed to deny that. You need some advice on how to sweet talk women.”

“Oh, and you’re an expert?”

“I seduced you, didn’t I?”

“Mm.” Her smile wanes. “What happened?”

I wouldn’t have protested if she let the conversation change directions but I suppose that is too much to ask for. I move closer to her, hoping the comfort will quiet the itch in my heart. “The danger of summoning doesn’t come from the elementals. With the right knowledge, preparation, and caution, a summoner can handle anything that appears in their circle. Things go wrong when they become overconfident. Overestimating yourself, thinking you can handle something you’re not prepared for, is what gets you in trouble.

“Apparently, my mother was too ambitious for her own good. A common sin but deadly when put together with overconfidence and summoning. To this day, Father refuses to tell me what she was trying to contract. Knowing most amateur summoners, it was big and powerful. Big and powerful usually means either conniving or aggressive. It’s a rare thing that strong elementals are peaceful. Rolly is one in a million. My succubi are the norm. Ah, well. They’re a little worse than usual.” Saints, I’m rambling.

“To make this sad story short, Father got my poor mother pregnant but refused to marry her. Didn’t change his mind after she gave birth. That must have driven her a little crazy because she summoned something she really shouldn’t have. All I know is that she walked into a room and didn’t come out. Thankfully, Father proved to have a heart and took me in.” I shrug. “And that’s all I know.”

“That’s it? Don’t…the two of you ever talk about her? What she liked or—"

“Father isn’t a very warm person,” I interrupt. “We don’t hug, we don’t write each other letters, and we never discuss our feelings unless it’s how much we hate, or hated, the Grimoires. I…I don’t know if he loved her but they were close at some point. Talking about how his abandoning her, at least romantically, stirred her into a reckless summoning and left me without a mother makes him more uncomfortable than it makes me.”

“Ah.” A thick silence brews between us until she puts a hand on my head, awkwardly patting me. Thankfully, it only takes a few seconds before she reverts to the more natural motion of running her fingers through my hair. “My mother is the opposite of cold. When I was younger, we were always together. Even for all her work. Cooking meals, doing laundry, cleaning houses. We shared a bed and she told stories about heroes. And my father.”

She sighs. “The way she talked about him, Lou. She made him sound like the greatest man to ever walk the north. She managed to frame me being a bastard as a blessing. It wasn’t his fault we lived in a communal house for servants. Tradition kept him from accepting us and bringing us to live in his nice, big house. But when I proved myself, I could be his daughter. A James.

“She…may seem callous but she believes it, Lou. Everything she says. Being a James, being duchess, means everything to her. It is the best future she can imagine. And…maybe she wants that for herself, deep down.” Ooh. Glad I don’t have to broach that toxic topic. “Maybe she prayed day and night that I’d be her way to power and status. But it’s better than her telling me I’d never do anything greater than buffing armor. Or…encouraging me to follow in her footsteps.”

Saints, I can’t imagine it. Although, imagining a seductress Alana isn’t bad. Not bad at all.

“You’re thinking something indecent right now, aren’t you?”

“No. What do you take me for? We’re having a moment.”

The hand in my hair gives a little tug. “On top of being easy to read, you are a horrible liar.”

“Can we go back to bonding over our questionable childhoods?”

She chuckles but the sound doesn’t contain much humor. “There isn’t much more to tell. I thought I would have to prove myself in the campaigns to be recognized by my father. The Moons test every child during their twelfth year, eager to find every talented soldier they can. My mother was with me when we found out about my light affinity. That very day, she marched me to the James estate. I waited with Bulliard while she tried to see my father.”

“Tried?”

“Eleanor stopped her.”

“Ah.” Don’t need her to elaborate, I can easily imagine that conversation. Didn’t Alana say Eleanor used to be meaner? Saints.

“Yeah, ah. We went home very quickly. My mother tried not to let me see but she was…unhappy. And then completely shocked when a servant asked us to come to the house a few days later. I have never seen her as happy as when my father agreed to give me the James name and officially recognize me. She was moved to tears.

“Of course seeing her that happy made me happy. And when I was told that I couldn’t stay in the house, I was devastated. I thought it was my fault, as I’d been taught all my life that a James can do no wrong. It’s why I put up with the hard work. The pain. Yulia.”

She sighs. “Really, I feel bad for Mama. She’s never been outside of Victory. Not once. Fixating on status may seem shallow but here, there’s only power and status and she’s definitely not a fighter—"

“Alana, please. You don’t have to explain it to me. It might be rare here but I grew up near the capital. Status-seeking is the norm.”

“Mm. Well, it’s her dream. And I just abandoned it.”

“Hey.” I put a hand on her cheek. “You haven’t done anything wrong. People aren’t obligated to live for their families.”

“You’re one to talk. Who is it that was going to attend the Grand Hall because of her father?”

“The alternative was being married off in the capital.”

“Could have said no.”

“And be a broke summoner with no background? No. Figured I take my chances at the Hall. Maybe find romance like Father. Preferably a rich, beautiful woman with a fondness for pure-hearted maidens.”

Alana snickers. “Pure-hearted.”

“You laugh but the saints heard me. I found exactly that. Sure, she bites but no one’s perfect.”

Her snickers turn to chuckles. “Ancestors. What a pair we make. I can’t wait to get out of here. And I never thought I would say this but I’m not eager to come back. Seers and dragons. Damn it all to the Abyss and back, I’d rather deal with that elf’s family.”

“I agree but the seer only wins by a slim margin. And, uh, we can stop by the capital first. See my father. The rest of my family, too. If you want.”

“Sure, Lou. That’d be nice.”

The door slams open as Kierra enters, a barrel under her arm. Another barrel floats behind her. Oh wait. That’s Bell underneath it. Three cups are held in her tail.

“Oh?” The elf sets down her burden. “The two of you have already cleared the air. Have I wasted a journey?”

“You’re right on time.” I sit up. “Bring the shroom juice. We still have a report to write.”