The early hours passed slowly, yet news traveled swift.

The woman walked the halls of Crux’ central palace, her heels tapping audibly against the wooden floorboards.

She came upon a certain room, a bedchamber far more lavish than any other in the manor.

“Lord Crux,” She said, knocking on the door, “My Lord, please wake up.”

Her knocking grew incessant, it did not cease until the sound of footsteps called her gaze away.

She peered upon him then, the son of Crux, the man named Crain.

She looked at him with disgust, but then she bowed her head anyway.

“You are my brother’s maid?” He said, glowering at her, “What brings you here?”

“I come on behalf of My Lord to inquire as to why he has been ordered to join the war.”

Crain crossed his arms and then looked upon the chamber door.

News of the Knight of Cain’s passing came to them through the night, swift actions were taken then and now all of Crux’s sons but him were being commissioned to join the war effort.

“Because our father commanded it,” Said Crain.

“Pardon me, Master, but then why have you not also been so commanded?” The woman asked.

Her tone told him she felt wronged on behalf of his brother, but he could only give her the same reply.

“Because Father didn’t command it.”

The woman scoffed yet again.

She was growing sick of conversing with the handicapped, he clearly didn’t get it.

“Is Lord Crux unwell?” She asked, “He wasn’t in his office in spite of the hour."

The young man frowned, then looked upon the chamber door. He told her,

“Go back to my brother, I’ll check on father and give him your message.”

“Pardon me, Master, but I would prefer to do it myself,” Said the maid.

She clearly did not care for overstepping her bounds, her lord was in danger of being sent off to war and the only person she could talk to was this waste of skin.

Frustration and impatience led to her making that slight, and she didn’t regret it until another voice called out to her.

“How very bold of you,” Said Ciara, whose heels tapped down the corridor.

The maid paled, then turned to face her.

She lowered her head and apologise readily.

Nothing came of it, save the guards being called.

“Take her out back, then have her flogged,” Said Ciara.

The guards complied quite readily, they seized the maid and took her outside.

She didn’t kick or beg or scream, all she did was turn white as a sheet and hang low her head.

The two children of Crux then looked into each other’s eyes.

Wordlessly they turned to face the chamber door.

They walked inside.

The curtains kept the chamber dark but not so much that one couldn’t see the blood upon the sheets.

Ciara cast a scowl, she flipped the sheets to see the body of her father.

The chamber door sealed shut behind her.

“All this time even I thought you but a harmless puppy,” She said to her brother, “Gives new meaning to the term A Wolf In Sheep’s Clothing, I suppose.”

Her brother shrugged.

His foolish air vanished swiftly to give way to an atmosphere of arrogance and indifference in its stead.

The girl looked to him with caution.

She couldn’t read him, that oh so familiar brother was nowhere to be seen.

“You sent our other brothers to war?”

He did not answer.

She scoffed, then crossed her arms.

“Naturally no one suspects you, the mentally handicapped waste. So tell me, little brother, what’s to become of your dear sisters?”

“Ah,” He said, as if in revelation, “I am in the process of finding them loving new homes.”

The girl chuckled at his jest, but the point was clear enough.

His brothers would perish in the war, if not then he’d just make them disappear, meanwhile his sisters would be married off to form ties with the neighbouring powers, a tale as old as time.

Now more than ever Ciara was happy to have been born a woman, if she’d been a man then her body would likely be as cold as her father’s by now.

“You make us sound like lost little kittens,” She said.

“Of course I’d never compare a lioness like yourself to something like that,” He said with a shrug.

“Oh? Then do tell me, little brother, who have you chosen to be this lionesses new owner?”

The young man shot her a serious glare.

He smiled a moment later.

“The third son of the Governor of Nyx,” He said.

Ciara’s crimson lips then lifted to a smile.

She glowered at him, but it was clear she wasn’t in the least bit displeased.

After all, Nyx was the strongest Silver Class Settlement in the region.

“You’ve been planning this for quite a while, haven’t you, little brother?” She said with a smile.

She could stop him, she could even kill him and become the Lady of Crux if she wanted, or at least she thought she had a good chance of doing that.

The risks were many however, and who’d want to be the governess of this place?

This lowly settlement that’s far too close to the front lines of the coming war did not appeal to her.

She was much better off just going along with his schemes, and he probably knew it, heck he was more than likely counting on it.

She always looked down on this little brother, yet as the saying goes it turned out she really couldn’t judge a book by its cover.

_______________________________________________

The Lady of Venus exhaled a yawn as she stood before a full length mirror.

Her subordinates surrounded her with freshly bought silk and cotton in hand, there were also some boot crafting materials covering the floor ranging from leather to iron.

There weren’t many cities where female rulers reigned, so there weren’t many garments fit for their use either.

She could make do with merely cladding herself in the trappings of a city lord’s wife, but she knew that would only make others belittle her.

The garments the maids thus had to hand tailor for her were in no way less than her station deserved, but they weren’t halfway done by the time her husband walked into the room.

The first thing the man saw then was his wife’s bare back in full view, her full figure was naked save for the shreds of garment being woven about her by expert hands.

The lines and curves of her body that he was all too familiar with would’ve drawn his gaze at any other time, but right now he was just too tired to care.

He yawned and then sat down in the corner of the room.

“Why didn’t you wake me?” He asked.

Yet the burdens from the night before assailed him even now, and his wife could tell.

Rusalka didn’t even need to look over her shoulder at him, that said she also couldn’t since the maids were hard at work.

All she could do then was meet his eye through the mirror.

“You looked so peaceful, I was almost tempted to paint a picture,” She said.

The man scoffed at her jest.

His eye was drawn towards the work desk nearby, where there lay pile after pile of letters stamped shut with Jupiter’s seal.

He wasn’t a fool, he could see that his wife had been busy since an absurd hour despite her own injuries and exhaustion from the night before.

“Did you get any sleep?” He asked her, and it was not the first time either.

“Two hours,” She replied.

The man fell silent, he had a little bit of sympathy, for she couldn’t sleep for long either way.

Her mind was lured towards the loss of her kin, the grief, pain and rage of that day.

She worked on those letters since the second hour, she was still there when the maids came in four hours later.

She was still there as they started to cut the silk and shape the materials to form the new dress she’d long forgotten was her own request.

Only now that she’d finished did they pull her away.

Since dawn she’d written hundreds, perhaps thousands, of copies of that letter with her superhuman hand.

Her husband frowned upon hearing of it, he scowled towards her and asked her outright,

“What’s in those letters, Ru?”

The woman grimaced, she didn’t want to answer but relented even so.

She couldn’t really hide it from him, though she knew what he would say about it.

“They’re a royal decree,” She said.

She tried to turn and face him, the mirror view was just too cumbersome, but of course, as expected she was stopped by the maids fluttering about her.

“Milady please stand still!”

Their pleas gave Rusalka pause, she submitted herself to their care once again.

The maids weren’t far from finished, a garment fit for a queen was coming to form.

“Royal decree?” Her husband braved the silence to inquire.

“I’m lifting the ban on using Ash Manifestation’s sensory abilities within settlement limits, rather, I’m mandating the active use of it by every able citizen.”

The room fell silent anew.

Whether it was Alexander or the maids, they all found her words somewhat hard to come to terms with.

Usually only the recognised authority figures would be permitted to do things like that and even then there were restrictions put in place.

Using Ash Manifestation to sense out another person was recognised as an open declaration of hostile intent.

Despite all of that their Lady didn’t shy away from using the wartime powers she’d been granted by Jupiter’s seal to change this status quo.

“Ru...be careful, some doors aren’t meant to be opened,” Said her worried husband.

Rusalka didn’t argue his point either.

She still had enough presence of mind to know there was a line she was courting with this decision but even if that was so she would still stay her course.

“Our enemy hides in the shadows,” She said, “So we’ll lift the lid and expose them to the light.”

There was no one who contradicted her, she simply wasn’t wrong.

Cain’s most effective weapon was the fact that they were hidden, but this decree would change that in a flash.

These simple pieces of paper, these thousands of letters littering her desk, would probably catch out countless agents of Cain.

Once again her servants recognised the sheer depth of her hatred, the irreconcilable rage that burned within her towards the men who destroyed her home.

Alexander sat up straight and peered over, he looked towards his wife’s back and then let loose a very bitter sigh.

“Just be careful,” He said, relenting to her will.

“I will,” The Lady answered with a nod.

Silence fell then soon after, her dress was finished, so she gave a twirl and then turned away from the mirror.

Her husband gave a nod towards her.

Her dress was more modest then one would expect, very few decorations and things of that sort.

He basked upon it till a knocking lured his gaze onto the chamber door.

“Milady,” That voice called out, this time it was one of the few males amongst the ranks of their forces.

Alexander recognised this voice, but he hadn’t spoken often to its owner.

“Speak,” Said the Lady with a huff.

She did not welcome the interruption but that was no fault of the messenger, at any rate his words were something she needed to hear.

“The Governor of Crux has ordered his sons to rally soldiers for the war effort,” Said the man behind the chamber door, “Furthermore he has asked us to provide escorts for his daughters who are to meet with their future husbands.”

The Lady frowned, the servant girls backed away from her, even Alexander fell silent.

She scoffed, all eyes turned towards her.

“So Crux is dead,” She said, “And his son’s taking this opportunity to seize power.”

Alexander looked towards the mirror as well as the dainty figure standing before it.

Her boots clapped down as she turned away from him, even the maids could sense that she was deep in thought.

“Why would he ask for bride escorts?” He asked.

“Venus City pretty much had a monopoly on that job here in the North-Eastern Region,” Said Ru, “Where else can you find competent female soldiers? As for the reason why he’s asking us now, I suspect it’s to show his allies that he’s thrown his lot in with us. This is good for us...and he knows it.”

“He’s trying to get into your good graces?” Her husband realised.

Then he scoffed, Crain was basically pawning all of their hatred off on his dead father and trying to curry favour with them, if that really was what he was up to then they had to admit they’d clearly underestimated the man.

“Ru,” he said, his tone quiet and yet commanding.

“I know,” Said his bride, “We need the troops, we can’t go picking personal battles right now.”

She leaned her palms against the mirror, a scowl marked her brow.

The friends she’d lost the night before due to the machinations of Crux and his children flashed before her eyes.

She could not avenge them, because she needed the men.

“Give him my reply,” She said towards the messenger, who bowed behind the chamber door.

They would swallow this bitter pill, they had no choice, it must be so.

She met her own gaze as it reflected in the mirror, her beautiful eyes marred by black marks of exhaustion.

She'd never been so tired, and not just from the preparations for the coming war.

Nightmares and responsibilities barred her slumber, she was desperate for a good rest.

When, she wondered, would all of this finally be over?