The pace of Adriana Nikoliades’ footsteps revealed the cracks in her stoic demeanor as she climbed down the stone steps to the guardhouse dungeon.

“Did he at least try to explain himself?” she asked.

“He claims he did it in self defense, my lady. But given his…tumultuous past, we weren’t exactly inclined to believe his word over his victims’.” A guardsman tried to match her pace, lighting the way with a dim torch.

She never should’ve asked Mattiew to settle down. Sedentary life proved to be a rather tight leash, compared to his years on the sea. This kind of outburst was…maybe not understandable, but predictable.

“My lady, I-I’m aware that you are under the prince’s protection. But…your husband broke the bones of four men. Two of them needed to be sent to a physician.” the guardsman said, fearing what may have been said within the subtext of her silence.

“There’s a fine line between self defense and assault. If you need me to demarcate the difference to you, say so.” Adriana said.

As she continued down the path of damp and dark stone bricks, Mattiew’s wolfish voice grew from around the narrow corner.

“…is what happens when you assume every head is as over-inflated as yours, you inbred clump of rat shit!”

Adriana turned towards a row of iron bars. The figure standing behind them fell silent.

Mattiew Nikoliades, former captain of the Sea Scourgers and Witchhunter of Diodes, stared at her for a moment with brown, adrenaline-filled eyes. He broke her gaze as he stepped away from his cellmate, a man twice his size, lying bloodied on the ground.

Mattiew’s thick, black hair, which usually assumed rope-like braids, draped below his shoulders, matted and dirtied. His olive skin was cut and bruised, though the injuries did little to disservice his wild and towering form.

“Hey, sweetheart…” he mumbled like a boy who’d been caught during his first attempt at pick-pocketing. “He, uh…he wanted my rations. Kinda…forgot breakfast.”

Adriana approached the bars of his cell and reached through them with a graceful, porcelain hand, tilting his head up to meet her eyes. At least he wasn’t hurt.

“I don’t care about that, darling. Explain all this, please.” She gestured to the dungeon.

“Ah.” Mattiew jabbed a thumb to her right through the bars. “That would be their fault.”

Adriana took a step back as her eyes landed on two vague but familiar bruised faces in the adjacent cell. They were of Acernic descent, like her. Pale skinned and black-haired.

“Lady Callione…” One of them gasped.

Adriana scrunched up her nose the way she would if exposed to the wrong part of the sewer. Never in seven years had anyone called her by her maiden name. Nor had anyone forced her to remember that she had a life prior to that time.

“I was right,” Mattiew growled. “They’re your father’s lap dogs?”

Adriana nodded. That anyone associated with the Callione House found them meant they had to be disposed of. It was the only way to prevent her mother and father from sending more assailants.

“I regret nothing and any of them even being near us is a threat to our safety.” Mattiew raised his eyebrows at the guardsman, expecting to be let out.

“It doesn’t matter if you get rid of us, Lady Callione-”

“Nikoliades.” Adriana corrected the soldier.

“Lord Andar has known for years that you’ve been in Kellas. We just came to warn you.”

“Warn me about what?” Adriana asked.

“Your father’s been up to something. Bringing bad fortune to the House. Delving into forgotten sorceries. Whatever he’s planning, it involves you. We implore you, Lady Nikoliades, defend yourself.”

“We can handle anything that geezer throws at us.” Mattiew scoffed. After her silence, he glanced at Adriana. “Isn’t that right?”

Adriana turned to the guardsman. “Let my husband go. I won’t allow him to be a sitting duck.”

“My lady, that is simply not possible…” The guardsman chose his words with trepidation. “My sincerest apologies.”

Adriana took a deep breath disguised as a sigh, inhaling the golden strands of ambient mana in the air, that were invisible to all present but her. The heat of sorcery ignited in her chest.

“I see. Allow me some time to speak with my husband.” Adriana held up a finger before the guardsman could protest. “Else, I’ll be forced to have a conversation with Prince Kellas about your position in the city guard.”

The guardsman hesitated, but nodded. “Three minutes.”

He left her in haste, but Adriana ensured he didn’t notice the key ring drop from his belt and onto the stone floor.

When the dungeon’s entrance slam shut, she allowed her curse of chaos to dissipate.

She picked up the ring of keys. Her father’s soldiers opened their mouths with words on their tongues, but quickly closed them. They knew better than to try something so moronic.

Adriana unlocked Mattiew’s cell door and let herself smile slightly as he pecked her on the cheek.

“I love watching you break the law. You would’ve made an excellent Scourger.” He grinned like a fool as he un-confiscated his belongings from a wooden chest.

“You will never get me to live on a boat. Though I insist you keep trying, sweetie.” Adriana watched him with a smirk.

“I am appalled.” Mattiew’s voice fluctuated like a stage actor. “After I tried so hard to live in one place for seven years. And you can’t even learn to enjoy scurvy for me?” He seamlessly transitioned to opening a secret exit to the dungeon through a hidden door in the bricks.

Adriana chuckled, grabbing a torch. “If you really want to clean up my bile that much, I suppose I have no choice.”

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“Worry not, my love.” Mattiew closed the wall behind them. “A week on the sea with me at your side, you’re bound to find your sea legs.”

The two of them shuffled down the dirt tunnel by torchlight.

“Precisely where does this escape route bring us?” Adriana asked.

“Next to the east wall. No one guards it.” Mattiew said. “There’s a stable, if you have any gold.”

“Out of curiosity, how many times have you been arrested?”

“Not that many,” Mattiew muttered. “Just…a few counts of debt evasion. And the one time they claimed I didn’t pay my taxes. But those guys were dirty and you know it.”

“Debt evasion?”

“I had to pay for the mill somehow.”

“So you went into debt? Mattiew, I told you we didn’t need a mill!”

“Paying our workers extra to trample our grapes would’ve drained our coffers faster with enough time.” Mattiew said. “I know I should’ve told you, and I really am sorry for that. But I didn’t really want to involve you in my debts if they went sideways.”

“Matty, we’re married. Your debts are my debts and vice versa. Did you even have a plan to pay back the loan?”

“I assumed the mill would sorta just…pay for itself, given time. But that’s not fast enough for them.”

They hit a deadend. Mattiew propped up a wooden covering over the exit to survey the area.

“We’re clear,” he whispered.

Mattiew pulled himself up and hailed a horse-drawn cart as Adriana climbed out of the hole and replaced the covering.

She dusted herself off before Mattiew helped her onto the wagon.

Adriana tossed a few silver discs towards the cart’s elderly driver.

“Take us up to the vineyard to the south, won’t you?” she asked.

“Of course, my lady.” The man smiled as he pocketed the coins. “Right away.”

Adriana leaned back against the side of the wagon. “Do you ever think they let you escape on purpose?”

“I think they’re trying their best.” Mattiew sat next to her. “And more power to them. As long as their best never surpasses mine.”

“And when they come to arrest you for escaping?” Adriana asked.

Mattiew scoffed. “Other than the taxes they get from our vineyard, the prince makes jack shit. And I’m not some massively corrupt noble. Worst-case scenario, it’s not too much hassle to get on the road again.”

Adriana let her head fall against her husband’s shoulder. “Is it really that much of a chore for people to just leave us alone?”

“From my experience, it’s far easier to act on greed and pride than do nothing at all.” Mattiew muttered. “Or at least for the powerful.”

“Not the rich and powerful?” Adriana raised an eyebrow.

“I’ve seen enough evidence to suggest being born into a noble family doesn’t make you a bad person by default.” They shared a moment of silence before Mattiew sat up with a new vigilance in his eyes. “Though…it makes being a bastard really, really easy. We’ve got some uninvited guests.”

Mattiew pointed at their property as they crested a hill.

Adriana followed his gaze over the sides of the wagon.

Blocking the path to the house Mattiew had put together, sat an exquisite cart, drawn by two well-adorned purebred horses, with the gold, black, and red crest of House Callione displayed on the back.

“Gods curse me.” Adriana hissed.

“I take it that’s who the soldiers warned us about. Anything I should know?” Mattiew’s hand was already glued to a short sword at his waist.

“It’s my cousin.” Adriana said. “Play nice until we know what they want.”

Mattiew let go of his weapon’s hilt.

The farmer’s wagon came to a stop. They climbed out and crept up the path to their home. Adriana mimicked Mattiew’s heel-to-toe steps and silenced her approach.

Adriana focused, allowing the golden strands of ambient mana to reveal themselves to her. The ambient density was still intact. No one had used any sorcery.

She wasn’t sure which of her cousins had paid them a visit, but there were certainly some she preferred to face in a duel over others.

Mattiew would’ve found it insane how ordinary the thought of dueling one of her cousins was to her. But that was life as a noble. Though she’d been under the impression she’d escaped that life.

At the door, Mattiew whispered, “Who do you want leading?”

“Assuming they had the audacity to send Phygius, I say you lead. If I need to draw mana, I’ll want it to be hidden.” She said.

Mattiew nodded and pushed the door open, entering their common room. Adriana glanced at a spear that Mattiew kept leaning against the kitchen wall. It might be worth trying to get it to him. The polearm was a better option than a short sword.

Harpax Callione, second son of her father’s sister, slouched on one of their armchairs, flanked on either side by a Callione soldier. On their cushioned lounge sat two Nightborn, hybrids of humans and Nightdwellers, monstrosities that dwelled on the outskirts of civilization.

One of them had dressed particularly well. A Nightborn without rags was an uncommon sight, considering how her father made much of his living selling them as illegal slaves.

Harpax looked much older than Adriana remembered him. He was four years her junior, but his face warped with nefarious intent, adding age. He wore a cape with a pretentiously high collar over his fine linens and had adorned his inky black hair with gold and jewels.

“Cousin. It’s been so long!” Harpax gave off a farcical impression of pleasantry. “I love your new house. It’s…quaint. Almost the size of our servants’ quarters.”

“Can we help you?” Mattiew asked.

“Is this where you’ve been all this time, cousin?” Harpax ignored Mattiew.

Adriana gritted her teeth. “Is this going to come to a duel or not?”

“Relax yourself, cousin. I’ve only come to bear a message from Lord Uncle Andar.”

“That being?”

“‘Return to Rosalia immediately.’” Harpax quoted from a scroll that wasn’t there. “‘And bring your mutt. I have need of him.’” Her cousin indicated Mattiew with a quick, pointed glance.

Adriana crossed her arms. “I don’t appreciate you referring to my husband as a hound.”

“Those were Uncle’s words, not mine.” Harpax held up his hands.

“Tell him to shove those words up a Night Dweller’s behind.” Adriana said. “Now begone. No Callione is welcome on our soil.”

Harpax shook his head. “You see…he thought you might say that. He told me that if you were to refuse, I should do this…”

Adriana’s heart sank, yet lit aflame, as Harpax drew mana in time with his breath.

“Mattiew, get back!” she shouted.

Rather than heed her warning, Mattiew drew his blade. Harpax’s soldiers pointed their spears at him.

“Ah, ah.” Harpax stopped them with a hand. “You know the rules, boys.”

“You’re challenging me to a duel? Not just attacking us?” Adriana asked.

“Despite what you think of me, I actually have an amount of respect for the Eightfold Pact.” Harpax unclasped his cape and set it on a table. “No human is to wage unruly war with another. So yes, we duel. You and your husband. Me and the elemental.”

The well dressed Nightborn stood. They were an arcane elemental, a being born of pure arcane energy. They wore black linens the way a common Acernic craftsman might and were adorned in gold and jewels of all varieties.

Arcane elementals were dangerous. They had power over raw mana, without the limitations that accompanied sorcerous abilities..

“If we’re dueling, let’s take it outside.” Mattiew said.

“Well…” Harpax stood and placed his hand on the back of the armchair. “I don’t have that much respect.”

Harpax’s arm moved but a few inches. The chair went flying like a ballista bolt, too fast for Mattiew to react. Adriana absorbed as much mana as she could and funneled it all into the nails, fastenings, and small parts of the chair, imbuing them with misfortune.

The parts deteriorated or snapped. The chair disassembled and flew around Mattiew.

Adriana grabbed his shoulder. “Can you fend off Harpax? I’ll take the Nightborn.”

Mattiew regained his senses and nodded. “I think so. Though it looks like I’ll be having to earn back my title of Witch Hunter.”

Adriana turned to the Nightborn as a beam of crackling, raw, azure energy lashed out at her. She stood unwavering as the bolt missed.

The elemental took a step back in surprise. Adriana funneled the residual misfortune into the floorboards. As they splintered under her opponent’s weight, she trapped their leg.

Adriana grinned, “Tell me, elemental, are you feeling lucky?”