A chill hung in the air. Lady Varessi, gripped by the throes of labor, was oblivious to the tension. Mascious ached to comfort her, but the presence of the new arrivals made it impossible.

The second guard, strikingly similar to the first, surveyed the room with a cold glare. His eyes swept past the engineer, the Feydaks, the laboring woman on the bed, the humble surroundings unfitting for a noble birth, finally settling on Mascious.

"What is the meaning of this?" he inquired politely, but his tone was icy, hinting at dire consequences for an unsatisfactory answer.

The first guard joined his companion, positioning himself for a better view. Their eyes met Varessi's, her defiant gaze unwavering despite her pain.

"So Lord Koleson sired a child," he remarked, disregarding Varessi's struggle. "Was this a conspiracy? Were you trying to steal the child, smuggle it?"

Silence met his accusation. The Feydaks continued their attempts to ease Varessi's pain, but the machine now handled most of the work, leaving them unable to ignore the charge.

The Fullbright remained aloof, focused on his screen. His lineage granted him a degree of immunity, but he was wise enough not to provoke the guards.

"Answer me!" the guard roared. Varessi responded, her voice hoarse, "I requested it. I wanted to leave. I couldn't stay on that island any longer. I tried, but I want to go home."

"You forfeited that choice when you accepted the offer to be a Lady of our Lord," the guard replied coldly. "Now, with child, you are both bound to the House of Whytid."

The tension shifted. Pity for Varessi, anger at the guards. Mascious glared, "Have you no honor?"

"A meaningless question from a man who absconded with his Lord's woman. Oathbreakers, both of you. Never speak to me of honor again." He pointed his needle at Mascious.

"Be grateful we found you first," the other guard interjected. "Search parties are scouring the branch houses. Perhaps if your Lady hadn't caused such a scene, you might have had more luck. This is your own doing."

The news of more pursuers sent a shockwave through the room. Their actions were a crime punishable by imprisonment, even death if the child were to suffer.

"More people are searching for us?" Mascious exclaimed.

"What did you expect?" the guard retorted. "You stole the Sovereign's wife and unborn child, and thought you'd escape unnoticed?"

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"How much trouble are we in?" the engineer inquired.

"Not much," the first guard answered, to the other's visible displeasure. "We were sent by the guild heads. The other search parties are on a false trail. We're taking the mother and child back before they catch wind of you."

Mascious wanted to plead, but knew it was futile. Running would only be more dangerous. Of all their pursuers, they were lucky the Water Guild had found them first. It seemed news of Varessi's disappearance had been suppressed.

"Word is currently quiet about the Lady's absence," the guard confirmed. "It would be unwise for news of Lord Koleson's child to spread. If we take her now, we can arrange for her to be moved to the Island of Sulik, under the guild's care. It's a far better option than any of the main branches."

Mascious knew it was a good offer. The Water Guild in Kerrasuk, once led by Koleson's son, now operated independently with considerable influence.

Yet, he didn't want Varessi to return to that place, to the islands or Kerrasuk. The Water Guild meant more politics, more danger. She'd had enough, and it had nearly broken her.

He looked at her, memories flooding back...

Mascious, son of a Serrit fisherman, had grown up on an island on the outskirts of the Purple Ranges, under the dominion of House Myrrar. Their culture was closer to Kerrasuk's, with a strong fishing tradition. His father hunted exotic creatures for profit, bringing wealth to the island.

But change was coming. House Myrrar's new Sovereign despised the Southern Isles' fishing culture, deeming it heretical. Exotic fishing was outlawed, plunging the island into decline. Mascious, trained as a fisherman, traded his tools for a spear, his loose garments for the Empire's attire. He became a retainer to young Lady Varessi of House Severidt, custodians of the island.

Leaving home that morning, Mascious knew he'd never see his parents again. His old life was fading away. He told himself it was for the best.

At that age, he didn't care much. While others lamented the cultural changes, he embraced them. He liked the new Korindts and statues of the Five Great. He knew the reason behind these changes: Lord Koleson, the powerful custodian of Kerrasuk.

Though technically equal to House Severidt, Koleson's family far surpassed House Myrrar. He even possessed a great needle and permitted old traditions in his region, not requiring submission to a Sovereign Decree. The South's isolation gave him power that made other nobles uneasy.

Entering the Severidt manor, Mascious saw a dying house. Its wealth had dwindled, propped up by taxes on fishermen, now outlawed. They were custodians in name only, their nobility artificially maintained by House Myrrar.

His job was to prepare Varessi to be a "valuable asset," a euphemism he understood. Make her appealing to some high-born noble. He convinced himself her plight didn't matter. He'd do his job, make a name for himself, and find a better position.

At least, that's what he thought at first. He spent years learning weaving, crafting reflections. The house had a Feydak and an engineer, but they were far from the caliber of the great houses. They taught him essentials: biology, history, soul essence, basic automatons. Lacking a Master at Arms, he trained himself into a capable fighter.

He became worthy of raising the young lady. And in a few years, he would meet her.

The first time he saw Lady Severidt, she'd just returned from Sylphora affiliate cradles in the West. Varessi was barely thirteen, a ghost in the manor for weeks. Mascious felt another presence lurking, but whenever he turned, there was no one.

Unable to bear the unease, he resolved to find this elusive girl he was to serve. He'd bend her to his will, no matter how stubborn.

Then he found her. Their eyes met for the first time. She was slender, frail, like a twig peeking through snow, yet sunlight bathed her ebony skin. She resembled a caged bird.

In that moment, Mascious's carefully constructed ambitions crumbled.

"Good day, Lady Varessi," he said. "My name is Mascious, and it's a pleasure to meet you. I am to be your retainer, guardian, and strategist."

"Good day, sir," she replied gently, her voice carried by the wind. "It's a pleasure to be at your service." She curtseyed, a sad smile gracing her lips, a smile with a shadow.

Mascious had a habit of lying to himself about his feelings. But that day, his ambitions transformed. He vowed to make her smile a genuine smile. He dedicated himself to that goal. Now, looking at Varessi, the guards, and their dire situation, he recognized his weakness. His Lady might never be happy again.