“What are you doing here?” asked the other woman.

“I could ask you the same.” Wiping her brow, Faye shot an unimpressed look at the lady. The woman was petrified. Despite her best efforts to hide it, her entire frame shook fearfully.

The Raven General sighed, her breath was even and steady. It was like the fight exerted close to little effort. She held out a hand. It was muddy and bloodied. Ugly red splotches marred the scarred knuckles.

Lady Asinara eyed her warily. Clear distrust and unease clouded her features.

Faye groaned, rolling her eyes. “I just saved you, I’m not going to harm you.”

“You mistake my distrust for fear.” With a sniff, Asinara straightened her spine and frowned. “I am not afraid of you.”

“You should be,” Faye muttered under her breath. When the lady’s sharp eyes narrowed, the Raven General waved a hand dismissively… not unlike swatting away an annoying bug. “I am not here to play word games with you. In fact, I want very little to do with you.”

Irritation swelled within her. Asinara’s lips parted, ready to retort.

“Do not make me regret saving you.” The firm words were like a sharp blade, cutting through the air with deadly accuracy. Effectively shutting the other up, Faye grabbed Asinara’s by the arms and hauled her forward. “Come. You may as well join me for a drink.”

The young woman stumbled but let herself be pulled forward. Reluctance shined clear on her face and every hesitant step, but she wallowed silently.

Asinara blinked back frustrated tears.

All her life, when she had called out, people would come running, tripping over themselves to assist her. But tonight when she cried for help, the one time she truly needed it… no one had answered. Her eyes slide to glance at the proud general dragging her along like a petulant child. No one except for her greatest rival.

Faye could feel the weight of pondering eyes on her. All she wanted was a relaxing night away from the estate. Where did all the extra trouble come from? Comfort and care had never been her strongest traits but Faye tried to soften her tone. “Trust me, unless you want to go straight home, this is the best after-,” Faye’s voice trailed off. She shrugged, at a loss of words. “Such things.”

Silence stretched between them.

“You have my thanks, Lady Feldgrau,” Asinara finally said. Her tone was sincere but there was a grimace on the beautiful woman’s face. Asinara pulled away from the general’s hold, dipping her head in thanks. “But I do not need your pity.”

The Raven General shot her an irritated look. As always, Asinara’s elegant poise was delicate and graceful, a practiced defense she had cultivated to perfection.

To Faye’s surprise, Asinara pressed on, “I will take you up on your offer. Follow me, I know a place.”

Before Faye could respond, the lady stomped past her quickly, steps forcefully long and quick, but not so fast that Faye could not follow.

With a shrug, the Raven General trailed behind, still half-wondering if it would be rude to just turn and walk the other way.

—

Asinara stared at the bubbling golden liquid. The jug of ale… was a lot bigger than she expected. She resisted the urge to poke at it.

Beside her, the Raven General was already downing her third.

“Is that healthy, Lady Feldgrau?” asked Asinara hesitantly as she picked up her jug for a cautious sip. Her eyes widened as the liquid burned her throat. The lady coughed. Despite the sting, the flavor was pleasant. She took another sip, larger than the last.

Burping loudly, the Raven General slammed the empty jug down on the wooden counter. “If it’s the ale that kills me,” she sighed almost dreamily, “then I’ll count myself fortunate.”

Asinara pursed her lips. It was quite the morbid proclamation, but not entirely surprising given the other’s lifestyle. “For your sake, I hope it is then,” she muttered dryly.

Faye glanced at her, amber eyes glinting with amusement. “And that is the kindest thing you have ever said to me.” The Raven General’s sharp gaze swept over the private room. She was entirely unbothered by Asinara’s guilty wince. “What did you say this place was called again?”

“The Lucky Charm,” she replied quickly. The name felt foreign on her tongue, but Asinara leaned forward, eager for the change in subject. “I have never been myself, but my brother and his friends speak highly of it. They-”

“It’s a brothel,” Faye interrupted. She raised an eyebrow. “You do realize that?”

Asinara’s cheek flamed. She had gathered as much after the pointed stares the hostess shot them and the men draped over the beautiful but scantily dressed women. “Yes,” she said stiffly, “but it has much to offer.”

To her surprise, Faye nodded in agreement. “The women here have many talents. They choose their drinks well,” she picked up one of the tarts from the tray. “Their chefs are undeniably gifted as well.”

Asinara could only nod. Not knowing what else to say, she picked up a tart of her own. The food was, in fact, delicious. It was ironic how packed the Lucky Charm was during a festival meant for love.

The lady pondered what to say next. She felt out of her element. Without the etiquette of the court or the wall of ladies in waiting between them, Asinara felt naked. Exposed.

The Raven General was intimidating, yes, but for the first time, watching the other attempt to stuff down two pastries at once, the other woman seemed… surprisingly human. Asinara bit her lips to hold back a laugh as the Raven General choked.

At the moment, it was hard to muster the bitter irritation Asinara usually felt in her presence.

“Why were you alone in the alley?” Faye asked suddenly. Amber eyes regarded the lady curiously. “It’s an odd place for the future queen.”

Asinara bristled at the title, her fingers tightening around her cup. For a moment, she considered lying. Instead, the truth slipped out. “I wanted to get away.”

“From what?” asked Faye, licking the crumbs on her fingers.

With a tired sigh, Asinara leaned her head against her hand. “An evening with the crown prince would make anyone want to throw themselves out an open window.”

“He doesn’t seem so bad,” commented Faye. “Childish but,” she shrugged nonchalantly. “He is young.”

“Why does everyone say that?” Asinara set down her cup with a sharp clink. “If I remember correctly, the last you were with him, you punched him in the face!” Her eyes flashed angrily as she added, “Did you even think of the repercussions that might have on Nikolai’s image?”

Faye groaned, “Your precious lord already scolded me for it.”

“Good,” snapped Asinara, pleased that Nikolai wasn’t influenced by the general’s brutish ways.

“He also thanked me for breaking his brother’s nose,” added Faye unhelpfully.

Asinara pinched the bridge of her unbroken nose. Typical of Nikolai. Many were unaware of it, but the Lord of Feldgrau could be incredibly when he wanted to be. Thinking back, the image of Argan’s bruised face and stunned expression brought a smile to her lips. “In all honesty,” she admitted after a moment. “I should thank you as well. Perhaps you could beat some sense into my family next time?”

The general choked. She let out an incredulous laugh. “Now, that is definitely something I did not expect to hear.” She held out her jug towards Asinara. “I accept your thanks.”

Hesitantly, Asinara raised her own jug, clinking it gently against the general’s. “You are kinder than I expected, Lady Feldgrau.”

“Few are foolish enough to say that,” replied the general with a smirk. “But you are not so horrible yourself, Lady. Especially for a woman lusting after my husband.”

Asinara nearly dropped her jug. “You would too if your intended was as much of a brat as mine!”

“It is fortunate then,” taunted the general, “that I am already married!”

Asinara huffed, crossing her arms. Her tongue moved on its own accord as the words tumbled out. “I envy you. Not just because you married Nikolai but,” the young woman’s shoulders slouched in defeat, “you are able to do whatever you wish.”

Faye’s expression darkened. “Now that,” she said, “is a lie.”

Asinara waved her arms in the air. The expensive fabrics of her gown rustled at the sudden movement. “You go where you desire and fight any that challenges you.” Her hands curled into a fist. “Meanwhile, my father controls my every move. All my efforts, my words, my looks,” she spit, “go solely towards bettering my house and family name.”

Faye stared silently.

“Sometimes I wish to hurl my tea at the queen.” Bitterness laced Asinara’s tone. “Or punch Argan myself.” She let out a dry laugh. “Sometimes I dream of it.”

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“A dream that would land you in the royal dungeons,” retorted the Raven General, voice rich with amusement .

“Not if I run,” challenged Asinara. She leaned back, bracing her hands against the cool railings. Her gaze drifted towards the open windows where she could make out the glittering lanterns in the streets below. “I could ride for the other side of the world. Perhaps live out my days as a merchant’s wife. I would be capable… and free.”

The sharp crunch of a tart broke the silence. The Raven General wiped at the crumbs. “It seems the Rose of Eburean is not so perfect after all.”

“I hate that name,” groaned Asinara, she rubbed her face with both hands. “There are worse things than being a pretty wife to a king,” murmured Faye. Her amber eyes glinted like fire in the low light. “The price for freedom is high.”

Outside their private room, the muffled noises of the brothel drifted in. Outside the doors, they could make out the excited calls and music as the patrons sought secret pleasure away from the public eye. Most were men. That was the true power of the Lucky Charm. It was not that they offered the best drink or women but a promise for the taste of freedom, no matter how fleeting. It was all an illusion, but intoxicating nonetheless.

“Are you willing to pay the price, Rose?” asked the general faintly.

Asinara stared at her empty cup. She thought of the dirty streets she had glimpsed earlier and the peasants begging at the corners, eyes hollow and dull. After her sixteenth birthday, she had been forbidden from helping the destitute. Now, those streets and faces were now foreign to her.

Even when she was young, she had never been without guards. It had been merely annoying at the time. Now, she knew they had shielded her from the truth. Their shiny armor had kept the worst of it away from her.

The streets of the Vellward Residence were pristine and orderly, a world apart from the chaos of the lower quarters. Her father never spoke of the poor when sharing the politics of the Court.

The lady sighed. She thought of the three men that had cornered her in the alley. If her parents knew, they would be furious. The Rose of Eburean was precious. The Vellward family’s key to inserting their bloodline into the royal family.

“In the history of my family, that is all I will be remembered for,” she said at last, her voice trembling. “For the beauty of my youth, and how many children I bear for the crown.” Asinara closed her eyes, lips twisting into a bitter smile. “No matter how much I dream of it, I could never do it though. Run away, I mean.”

The Raven General was silent. Her expression was unreadable as her gaze fixed on her drink.

“I could not abandon my family,” continued the lady. “And… there is a part of me that has always wanted to be queen. To do my part for my people.” She laughed but the sound was short-lived. “If not for that, maybe I would have eloped to Feldgrau.”

At the uncharacteristic silence, Asinara opened her eyes to study the silent general. “Lady Feldgrau?” she prodded, suddenly worried.

The Raven General’s reply came, flat and startling. “You could always get rid of Argan after you marry him.” She said it so casually, as though she wasn’t suggesting murder and the highest treason. “As queen, you could then command Nikolai to set aside his wife and marry you instead. That way, you would get all you wish for.”

The general tilted her head to the side, eyes narrowing in mock contemplation. “Of course, you would have to go through me and my entire army first, but…” she help up a finger “there is the slightest possibility, I suppose.” The woman’s brow furrowed as if calculating the odds. “A very, very small chance though, don’t get too excited.”

“Are you….” Asinara stared dumbfounded at the young woman. “Are you teaching me how to start a coup against my intended?”

The Raven General shrugged, entirely unbothered.

It took a moment for Asinara to find her voice again. It was hard to wrap her head around the absurd direction their conversation was headed towards.

“So,” the Rose of Eburean picked up her ale with exaggerated care. She was going to need more to get through this conversation.

“In theory of course,” Asinara leaned forward, curiosity piqued despite herself. “How exactly would I go about this?”

—

Elody burst into her private room. Her breath hitched as she froze misstep. A man knelt before the low table. The porcelain glass of tea in his hand steamed faintly as he blew on it with an air of unbothered calm. His pale face was serene and indifferent, as if he had no care in the world.

The painting courtesan’s pulse thundered in her ears. She stepped forward, her expression a mix of fury and fear. “I told you not to come here again! You were to lie low!” Her voice shook as she curled her hands into tight fists. “There is no telling what the lord will do to us if he finds out!”

Fingers bunching her skirts, the courtesan dropped to her knees. She knelt in front of the quiet man with all intention of slapping him out of his maddening stupidity. “Why would you-“ Elody word’s cut off abruptly as her heart dropped.

The man’s eyes, now fixed on her frozen form, were like ice. The dark warmth she had grown familiar with was nowhere to be found. Now that she was closer, the image before her made her blood run colder still. The skin was even and smooth. The curve of the jaw was sharper and the arch of the brow was higher. Even the hair, so deceptively similar, carried a slightly different hue than the one she had grown accustomed to.

Elody fell back in shock. Her skirt pooled around her like the petals of a wilted flower. “You’re not Romelo,” she whispered, voice shaking despite her best efforts to hide it.

The man set down his teacup with deliberate precision. “My dear lady Elody,”the fragile porcelain clinked softly against the tray. “You wound me.”

Elody bowed her head, thankful for her training. “My lord.”

The Lord of Feldgrau sat before her. Having seen the man himself, she felt foolish for ever falling for the charm of his double. Though their features were alike, to compare their prescence would be to compare the tides of a peaceful pond to the roaring waves of the raging ocean.

When she straightened, Elody’s expression was one of dumb obedience, eyes dull and naive. “This one apologizes. I mistook you for another.”

His lips curved, but it was not a smile that graced his eerily beautiful face. Where Romelo’s features were attractive, accentuated by pencil strokes and paints, the Lord of Feldgrau’s presence was almost otherworldly. His ice blue eyes were stark and cold, like frost against moonlight. “It is I. Nikolai,” he said quietly, a hint of false pain in his words. “We have been meeting for weeks. I am hurt that you have forgotten me so easily.”

Elody stilled, unsure of her next move. The lord was lying, that much she knew. But how much did he know? It had been a mistake to utter his double’s name, but he may not have caught on. Her heart drummed against her ribs, but Elody forced herself to play along. “My lord, I could never forget you,” her voice was coy and pitched in a way most patrons found hard to resist. “I mistook you for another, but that misunderstanding was cleared the moment I set eyes on you.”

“That is good,” murmured the lord, though a trace of amusement lingered on the edge of his tone. Silently, he held out his cup.

Hastily, Elody reached for the teapot and filled the cup with practiced ease. Her hands were steady despite the growing worry brewing within her.

Before she could retract her hand, cool fingers encircled her wrist. It was a gentle grip but the painter stiffened, rooted in place. The teapot in her hands shook.

“Where is all the jewelry I gifted you?” asked the lord, his voice was light but the undercurrent of suspicion was unmistakable. “Were they no longer to your liking, dear Elody? Or did you gift them to your sister? I thought I saw something familiar on her.”

Elody’s pulse quickened. He knew of Romelo’s gifts. He knew of her sister.

The grip loosened, and Elody drew her hand back carefully.

“They were quite expensive,” he added pointedly.

Elody’s mask did not waver as she maintained her smile. “I had to stash them away, my lord. Lady Athena was not fond of them.” It was a half-truth. She did not mention the Lucky Charm’s strict policy on gifts.

The lord crossed his arms, frowning petulantly, like a child who did not get their way. “That cannot be right. I just spoke with Lady Athena and she made no mention of them.” He paused, icy gaze piercing. “Perhaps I should bring it up with her. I’m sure she would make an exception for us.”

Elody paled at the words. If Lady Athena found out, the artist would be harshly punished. The consequences would make exile seem merciful. “Please, do not,

she said quickly. “I lied, my lord. I had other reasons for not keeping them on me.”

“Such as meeting with the queen?”

Her breath caught. All false pretenses crumbled as understanding dawned on her. He knew everything.

“I did not betray you, my lord,” Elody’s body betrayed her as her voice edged with desperation, “But I had no choice but to treat with her.”

The Lord of Feldgrau regarded her with unnerving calm. “Romelo told you much,” said the man, tone even. “You may have let something slip.”

“I am smart. I am careful, my lord,” said Elody, straightening her spine. “Romelo knew that. I did not give anything that would harm your identity. It is a strict policy of the Lucky Charm.” Elody pursed her lips. There was no point in lying. Yet.

His gaze did not soften but there was a flicker of something unreadable in his expression. The Lord of Feldgrau reached over for the teapot. He picked up a clean cup and poured a steady stream of tea into it. The leaves had soaked long past the amount they were supposed to and the acrid scent filled the air, pungent and sharp.

“I do not know you,” he said finally. Leaning forward, he placed the tea in front of her. “As such, I cannot know if you lie or not. However, I do need to decide,” his voice grew quieter, more dangerous. “What I should do with you.”

Elody stared at the steaming tea. Her fingers hovered over the cup as a thick tension filled the room. “Is that a threat?” She picked up the tea but did not drink it.

Glancing at the door, Elody found herself ill at ease. Where were the guards the matron had patrolling the Lucky Charm?

Elody licked her dry lips. “Will you send me to my grave to protect your secrets, ice prince?” She asked, her tone was cool but her pulse erratic. “I thought you were an honorable man, my lord.”

“You are not the first to make that mistake,” came the sharp response. The ice prince stared at her, expression blank and unreadable. “Now, give me one good reason why I should not do as you suggest.”

—

Faye could still walk straight but Lady Asinara was an entirely different story.

The other woman’s arms were draped over Faye’s shoulder and she could barely hold herself up.

“Did you know!” Asinara declared loudly, practically tripping over herself. “Lady Bernice only has four toes! Oh!” She hiccuped in between her words, as she whispered loudly, “And her maid is sleeping with her father!”

Heads turned as eyes around the establishment rose to stare at the two women.

Faye turned to Asinara, not sure whether to feel annoyed or amused. “You are quite the gossiper.”

“I take that as,” there was a short belch before Asinara continued, “a compliment!” She sniffed loudly like her nose was runny.

Faye rolled her eyes as Asinara paused mid-step, staring into emptiness. The lady was smirking proudly… at the wall.

“Who, ugh,” in an unladylike motion, Asinara wiped at her nose with the back of her hand. “Who do you think taught Niko?”

Asinara stumbled again but Faye caught her with a steady grip, muttering under her breath about life being easier on the battlefield than dealing with drunken ladies who wanted to steal other people’s husbands.

“Must you bring him up in every conversation?” Faye stared upwards, praying to the gods for patience.

Asinara’s hazy gaze snapped into sudden focus as she shot Faye a hard and serious look. “At this point,” her voice was firm despite the drunken slur, “I really only do it to annoy you.” She jabbed the other woman’s shoulder.

The esteemed Raven General considered her options. Dropping the stupid lady right then and there seemed increasingly tempting. Oh, so tempting.

But then the thought of blue eyes flashed in her mind. They were calm, steady… disappointed. She sighed in frustration.

With a grunt, Faye shook her head as she maneuvered them to the exit. “Let’s just get you to a carriage.”