ARC 7-Cursed Fates-97 (Patreon)

Lancecain presses his back against the door as I approach him, one hand blindly grasping for the handle. For a moment. Then he lets go, straightens his shoulders, and looks me in the eyes. “Please calm down.”

“Oh, don’t worry. I’m perfectly calm. We’re just going to have my thrall take a look inside your head, make sure everything is where it needs to be.”

“I won’t fight that but before you make any hasty judgments, let me finish—"

“I’m done hearing about what the lizards think.” I stop advancing on him. “You want to keep talking? Tell me what you think. Why are you supporting this nonsense?” It’s going to be hard to convince me it’s something other than being mind-fucked. The only reason I’m even pausing to listen is because I know there is a world-threatening secret in the north, which supports his story.

The young knight pauses to consider his next words. Deeply consider. I can almost hear the thoughts turning over in his head. Out of curiosity, and a more urgent desire for growth, I cast Geneva’s spell, the one that makes it easier to feel what she calls thought emissions.

Lacking her expertise, the best I can parse from the strange sense is vague emotions. Hope. Determination. Panic? Ah. I think he’s misunderstanding the intention behind my glowing eyes. Alongside those feeling is…darkness. All-encompassing night without so much as a pinprick of light. An image that should invoke fear or dread but instead, I feel comfort from it.

I drop my spell as he begins to talk, not wanting to be distracted by the mental sense I can’t understand when I have other more reliable ones. “I love the north. It’s not my place to think about its future, James lead Victory. But, if I did have the chance to lead, to guide its direction, I would want it to be more than wars. And not just a copy of the south.”

I choke down a laugh. That was a slight against the snow bunny, wasn’t it? “The north is full of wonder, beauty, and opportunity, unique to itself. Victory could be the gem of Harvest, not a place for nightmares and madmen. For that, we need peace.”

His gaze is steady, his shoulders relaxed, and there is no hint of doubt anywhere. This is a man sure of his convictions.

Could still be mind-fuckery.

Or it could be a saintly young man fighting for his home.

…I suppose I can listen a little longer.

He sighs in relief as I retake my seat at the edge of the bed. At least he has no illusions about his chances of survival should I decide he needs to die. More evidence to suggest he’s telling the truth. If he were a mind-warped agent, he wouldn’t care about his survival. “Tell me the rest.”

“To prove the estrazi and humanity can work together, she wants to show evidence of a happy union. A, er, marriage. Of a kind.”

Saints preserve me. “Are you telling me that she came looking for her fiancé?”

“…of a kind.”

Khan gets lost in a storm, a death sentence, but is rescued by the estrazi. As their prisoner, he falls in love with the daughter of their leader, a princess. They fall in love and hope that their love can bring peace to their warring people.

But a prophecy demands they be separated. For the greater good, Khan’s memories are wiped and he’s sent back to his family to be executed. This Little Water doesn’t accept that. She defies fate and sends servants to retrieve her lover. When that doesn’t work, she goes after him herself, crossing enemy territory to do so. And she’s done it! She’s right here, practically at the doorstep of the woman holding him.

That. Is. Amazing!

Blessed saints, who is this woman?! This is both the most romantic and heroic thing I’ve ever heard. Lancecain is sure she isn’t powerful and I doubt she’s an immortal like me. That means she’s made it here while risking life and limb every day, fighting against impossible odds. Saints, does she even have a plan? Or is she just following the whims of her aching heart?

I love it.

“I hoped to find Khan and determine his mental state before reporting to Little Water.”

There. I’ve been waiting for the smallest sign throughout our entire conversation, so I don’t miss the tiniest jump in his heart rate or the faint flicker in his expression. I’m not sure what they mean but I know something about what he just said rattled him. “What did you expect to find? You saw Khan at the Witness Circle. That’s not something you fix in a week, if you fix it at all.”

There it is again. “I didn’t expect much. Mainly, I wanted to see how much he remembered of Little Water and their plans.”

“…my succubus thoroughly searched his mind and found no mention of princesses or alliances.” Not the kind of details she’d miss.

“Ah. A shame.”

The strange signals I’ve been picking up coalesce into a clear image. Excitement. Bordering on happiness from the smiles he’s suppressing. Is he glad that Khan doesn’t remember Little Water? What does Lancecain have against Alana’s brother?

Or…what does he have against Khan’s relationship with Little Water?

…it couldn’t be.

“She’ll be disappointed.”

“But you aren’t.”

He startles, like a spooked cat. A finger absently scratches behind an ear as his gaze fixates on a wall. “I guess there’s no point denying it?”

“No.”

“Fine. I admit, I’m glad Khan isn’t in a suitable state. No offense to him, he’s a good man far as I know and I hope he improves eventually, but we are talking about spearheading major change. Little Water is poised to battle five centuries of hatred head-on. I don’t think that is a responsibility that should be put on the shoulders of a man who doesn’t have the heart for conflict. If this is going to have any chance of success, she needs a strong partner.”

It can’t be. “Someone like you?”

Saints blessed asses, he actually blushes! It is!

I howl in laughter as Lancecain tries valiantly to remain stoic. A futile gesture. No matter how composed he remains on the outside, his turbulent insides give him away. “You weren’t checking up on Khan. You were sizing up the competition, haha!”

“No, no. You misunderstand. I…” He trails off as I stare at him, completely unconvinced. Then he sighs. “I have considered forming a union with Little Water should Khan prove unfit.”

“You want to marry a girl from another race whom you’ve never laid eyes on. Because she blinded you.”

“There are rougher methods of courtship in Victory.” That sets me off again. Lancecain endures my second fit of humor with an admirably stoic expression. “I’ve come out of it no worse for wear. And yes, I haven’t seen her but I’m more interested in her as a partner. She is thoughtful, ambitious, and decisive. That’s what important. This union would be for Victory.”

“Uh-huh. It has nothing to do with you getting some tail.” Literally. Unless the females don’t have them. I have so many questions.

“No. I’m simply doing what’s best for my home.”

Liar.

“Alright!” I jump to my feet, grinning madly. “You’ve convinced me. I’ll listen to what this Little Water has to say.” I was wondering what I’d do to amuse myself before we declare war on the Swords. This’ll do nicely.

“Thank you, Lou. I’ll—"

“Stay here and try not to get into any more trouble. After you tell me where to find the estrazi.”

“What are you going to do?”

Saints bless him, I think he’s prepared to protect their location, or at least do his very best, if he doesn’t like my answer. “Don’t worry, I’m not going to harm your lovely lizard.” Are you kidding? This woman sounds amazing. I’d throw her a feast for making a man she blinded fall in love with her alone. Legendary. “We’re going to be the best of friends.”

“…alright. But I would suggest you don’t call them lizards.”