Warmth. Like sunshine over a frozen lake, it touched Lorelei’s skin and slowly seeped in to melt all worry and thought. The tender strength of Noah’s arms was so enticing, tearing down the walls around her heart and soul that she had clumsily built. She could stay huddled in the warmth of his embrace forever. The strong beats of his heart were like a guardian chant, protecting her and driving away any danger and sorrow. Snuggling in his broad shoulder, she breathed in his familiar sweet scent of musk, sandalwood, and pine. It combined the inviting warmth of the eastern Marzbanats with the rugged beauty of Norden to create a unique and unmistakable fragrance that was his alone.

Suddenly, her whole body stiffened.

“N-no… Let go,” she mumbled. The hands that had previously clung to Noah’s shirt desperately tried to push him away.

Hearing her muffled voice and feeling the weak pressure, Noah loosened his grip. Like a frightened dormouse, she scrambled away from him, pulling the blanket up to her chin.

“Lorelei, what…?”

The mix of sorrow and confusion on his face pierced Lorelei’s heart. He reached out, but this only made her curl up deeper into the sheets.

“P-please, stay away,” she said weakly, trying to hide her red face in the blanket.

“Forgive me.” His tone was so full of hurt that it forced her to look up. His lips were twisted in a forced smile. “I… It wasn’t my intention to hurt you or take advantage-”

“No!” Realizing what he was thinking, Lorelei hurried to clear up the misunderstanding. “I didn’t mean… You… You shouldn’t hug me because… I stink!”

For a long, silent moment, the two stared at each other. Two small suns burned on Lorelei’s cheeks and she wanted to look away but couldn’t, captivated by the slew of emotions washing over Noah’s face. Sorrow, guilt, confusion, realization, amazement, they all came and went to finally give way to bemusement. Warm, devilish light shone in his eyes as he coughed, trying to drive away a chuckle.

“You… are such an odd bird, Lady Norden!”

“I’m not!” Lorelei retorted, thinking that her whole face would burst into flames. “I… I’m unkempt and haven’t washed for who knows how many days while sweating from fever…”

“Weeks.” Gravity replaced the playfulness in his voice. “You’ve been on the brink of death for one and a half weeks. We weren't sure that you’ll wake up again.”

“But… I just have a simple cold,” Lorelei shook her head and blinked, trying to brush away the memory of the conversation she had with Orhana.

“Far from it. According to Kash-baba, your soul was wandering around.” His tone became quiet and more solemn. He then continued, tasting every word before uttering it. “I trust her skills, there is no mistake. This… Letting your soul wander away from your body… isn’t something a regular human can do. Also… I know you could see the shape of the dhrowghost, and you further claimed to see a black mist that pushed you over the cliff. None of this can be done by a Limerian.”

He hesitated, clenching his hands together.

“Lorelei… What… What are you?”

“I…”

Lorelei froze, her throat - tightly clogged. A single thought kept repeating itself in her mind - her soul had been wandering! This… If true, it meant that… what she experienced with Orhaha, that bloody swamp, and the half-demon Noah… it was all real! The past that she had witnessed, the kiss that they shared… all of it?

Her heart skipped a beat as she looked at him. The kiss, he never mentioned it. There was no hint in his speech or manners indicating that it had ever happened. Did it mean so little to him or had this particular event been part of her imagination? Both possibilities were hurtful in their own way.

“Will you deny me an answer, my lady?”

His pained voice threw her tumultuous inner world into even greater chaos.

“That’s not it! Just…” She opened and closed her mouth several times, not knowing where to start. With some effort, the words found their way out. “Do you know what a nesvet is?”

“That’s how the Binshi call our Saints…” The shock of realization forced his eyebrows up. “You… are a Saint?!”

“Not quite,” whispered Lorelei. There was no turning back now. But he deserved to know and she desperately wanted to get that secret out of her chest. Even if it meant that he would fear and probably hate her… If he even believed her.

Word after word, she narrated her meeting with Yanosh’s spirit, how he cured her of the dhrowghost’s miasma and created a false life-core for her. She confessed about seeing Gregor gathering soul-dust, and the strange dream that had led her to the Star of Norden. Her voice became weaker and weaker until she reached the point when Shana had pushed her over the gazebo’s railing, and then it died out completely. She had no strength or enough bravery to talk about her experience with Orhana, and even less when it came to the kiss she believed to share with Noah. Be it a dream or reality, she needed time to gather her thoughts and courage, and put her feelings in order so that she could face him… if he ever gave her the chance to do that.

Stealing a shy glance, she noticed Noah staring intently at her, his eyes trying to pierce straight into her soul. His judgment was imminent, and the verdict was hardly going to be favorable.

Exhaling slowly, her husband drew both hands through his hair.

“This… explains a lot. Damn, had I known… that whole fiasco with the Grand Council could have been avoided.”

“I’m s-sorry.”

“What for?”

“For everything. For complicating things. You deserved to know. I was… selfish.”

“We both know that’s nonsense.” Noah’s warm, rough hand brushed a lock of tangled hair behind her ear. “Now tell me the truth. Why did you keep quiet until now?”

“I…” Lorelei felt the tears welling up in her eyes, “I’m a monster. I was afraid… I thought that you… that everyone would hate me. See me as a threat… I…didn’t want to be sent to the Church… and used to summon a real Saint… After all, I’m the vessel they need… And if the Church were to have a new Saint, they could use this ‘holy sign’ as a pretext to renew the conversion efforts in Norden… I was terrified that… I could cause a civil war. The Duchess of Norden can, at any moment, turn into a being that is the natural enemy of the Binshi-”

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“Foolish girl!” Noah snorted and flicked her forehead. “I told you already - from the day we married, you became one of my people. A vessel or a true Saint, I wouldn’t allow the Church to take you and use you. And I’ll never see you as a monster or a threat.”

“Even though… I’m not even a human?”

“You perpetually stubborn woman!” Noah cupped her face. “My daughter is something akin to a deity. Half of my closest people are magical beings that can summon the dead and rip out one’s soul. I believe I have enough experience with the ‘inhuman’ to know what I’m talking about.”

Saying this, Noah flicked her forehead one more time and stood up, heading for the door.

“I’ll bring you some porridge and honey milk. Be a good patient and don’t you dare run around.”

A wave of relief overwhelmed Lorelei. Laughing and crying simultaneously, she nodded, unable to utter a word. Yet her eyes said everything that needed saying.

***

Veils of mist filled the dream world. Their ever-changing shapes conjured mirages of castles and giants, of monsters and endless mountains. Lionel hated it all. The flighty surroundings were an excellent hiding place for assassins.

He studied again the small amulet hanging from his neck. It was made in the curled-up shape of a sleeping man with two locks of white and golden hair tied around his body. Although his partners had sworn a blood oath that the trinket was just a means of communication and not a harmful artifact, he had still made sure to take additional precautions. When dealing with soul-sucking monsters, who knew how much their word was worth? The thin gold band around his middle finger was a memento of Saint Markus. It gave somewhat of a protection against suggestions and mind control. Luckily, it just increased its bearer’s innate mental strength and did not block magic completely, otherwise, combining it with the Binshi amulet might have ended up ugly.

Rubbing the pendant between his fingers, Lionel clicked his tongue and peered again into the misty shapes. They were late. Even worse, they had failed. His spy in Ildemar had managed to send out a single bird before the castle had been put under an even tighter lock. Despite some minor gains, that bastard was still alive and the Binshi’s prophet was still under his protection. So much for their elaborate plan.

While Lionel was angrily recounting the report, the mist before him began churning until it formed the blurry figure of a woman.

“Where is Akh-Moren?” asked Lionel without bothering to greet her.

“He is busy,” replied the shadowy woman curtly. “Why have you contacted us?”

“Why?” Lionel crossed his arms over his chest and rolled his eyes. “Do you think I’m stupid and wouldn’t learn of your failure?”

“Just a minor setback. With the castle’s defenses weakened, we just need to regroup and-”

“Forget it. You tried and failed. Your people ran away with tails between their legs. Now is my turn.”

The woman balled her fists and was about to answer but suddenly stiffened. After a few seconds of silence, she nodded.

“We will provide you with a shaman to assist-”

“No need for that.” Lionel interrupted her again. “I have taken care of that part.”

“Then our puppet in Ildemar will be dormant until you need its assistance. But there is one condition - don’t kill the Duke.”

“You dare?!” Lionel’s face quivered in anger. “We had an agreement. The bastard dies, you get your prophet and I - the dukedom.”

“Quell your anger, Limerian. You will get your revenge and even more. Akh-Moren just doesn’t need the Duke’s corpse. As long as he stays on the brink of death, all is fine. Even better if he suffers an excruciating pain before you hand him to us… If you ever manage to defeat him.”

“Your failure doesn’t mean that my plan will fail too.” Lionel threw the woman a disdainful look. “You foolishly bet the success of your operation on the whims of a child. A child, I might add, who you needed to coerce to your side first, and we all saw the result. I won’t make the same mistake.”

“You sound confident.” Despite her face being a blur of mists and shadows, there was an unmistakable poison in the woman’s voice. “Oh, and one more thing. Akh-Moren hopes that he will finally receive the gift that was lost earlier.”

“The Duchess?” The Binshi’s last demand caught Lionel off guard. “Why does he need her?”

“I don’t know. But he was clear about one thing. No matter what happens, no irreparable damage should be inflicted on the Duchess’ body.”

“I didn’t think that your saintly leader had such tastes.” A vicious smile bloomed on Lionel’s face.

“Kudash!” hissed the woman and her body shook. “Not everyone is a rutty dog like you, Limenrian. Heed my word. If you ignore Akh-Moren’s demands, you will regret it.”

Without further explanation, the shadowy woman disappeared, leaving Lionel seething and curious. His fingers gripped the amulet around his neck and crushed it. In a flash of light, his body disappeared from the dream world.

Lionel’s eyes ripped open in the twilight of his bedroom. He exhaled and brushed the sweat from his brow. Hard crumbles of gray-white clay scraped his bare chest as he swiped them away and stood up. The fresh wind of mid-spring caressed his naked body. From a carafe adorned with sparkling red rubies, he poured some wine into a goblet and downed it in one go. His eyes wandered over the majestic domes of the Imperial Palace that were now dyed crimson-gold from the last sun rays. A second cup of wine found its way to his smiling lips.

The Duchess of Norden. What secret talents did that woman have to entrance both that bastard and Akh-Moren? She was just a lowly by-blow of an incompetent count, so how was she always disturbing his carefully preplanned game?

Lionel closed his eyes, trying to remember those unspectacular features. She was not ugly but also not a captivating beauty. Her figure was scrawny, her hair was dull brown. The only redeeming feature had been her eyes. In hindsight, he liked those eyes - big and pleading like the ones of a frightened doe, yet deep inside burned the flame of will and decisiveness unbecoming of someone as lowly as her. Maybe it wouldn’t be that bad to see those eyes again, but this time - completely full of despair. Or maybe… even enamored and thoroughly submissive. If that girl was anything like her sister, it wouldn’t take much effort.

Hunger and arousal burned through his body, making Lionel shudder and lick his lips. What kind of a desperate face would his bastard brother make if he would take her right before his eyes? Akh-Moren had said no permanent damage to her body was allowed and he didn’t intend to do such a thing. He would play with her a bit, learn her secrets, and torment that haughty slave all at the same time. And who knows, maybe if the girl was lucky, he would keep her instead of giving her to those white demons.

A third cup of wine flowed down his throat, cooling his emotions. Fantasies were nice, but he had a plan to rearrange. Luckily, although some variables had changed the game pieces remained the same. Just the role of his little Pricilla was going to change a bit. He had showered her with attention every night in Sefis and had continued to do so after returning to the capital. She had proven to be a valuable investment indeed, and, if what his eyes and ears in the Crown Prince's palace were reporting, one that would soon bear some much-desired fruits.

Grabbing a loose silk garment from a nearby chair, Lionel threw it over his shoulders and began pacing back and forth.

He had planned to use Pricilla to infiltrate Ildemar anyway, but now she was going to have to stay there for a bit longer. With how everything was coming together, his pieces were in their ideal configuration. If everything went well, in less than a year he could get hold of Norden legally, so that neither his father nor any of the old nobles could find fault in his actions. And in that time, he would rip from that bastard everything he held dear, bit by bit.

Lionel threw his empty goblet on the table where it clattered against the carafe and a bowl of fruits, leaving a thin trail on the marble top. He then snagged a small silver bell and vigorously rang it until a quiet servant entered the room.

“Fetch Nanny Morna from the Crown Prince’s palace. Bring also Argente.”

After giving his orders and sending the servant away, Lionel slumped on a pile of cushions with a satisfied smile. A row of pearl-white teeth bit his lower lips as he closed his eyes, almost able to taste the fruits of success and pleasure the future would bring.