Chapter 42:

Lesson in Humility

(Gwen's POV, Two Hours Later)

They had found a building that was still standing and was using it as a command base. The battle had been won. Gwen had been victorious, and everything was proceeding according to plan. They had lost less than a hundred men and women. A low number compared to the hundreds, if not thousands, of dead on the enemies side, for which they were thankful, but it was still lives lost.

They were currently being gathered to be honored later, but right now, Gwen's attention was elsewhere. She had freshened up, having bathed and clothed herself. Vincent had also done the same, and now he stood by her side while she sat at the head of a table before three individuals who all sat to the right of her. They were the Queen-Consorts, Yasmina and Cordelia, and her older brother...Prince Noah.

"Where is she!?" Noah demanded, slamming his fist on the table, "We kept up our end of the deal!"

They were also freshened up and in clean clothes. There was a fresh cut across Noah's right cheek, and though it looked to have been healed, it would leave a scar. Gwen adjusted herself in her chair, leaning back as she addressed him with a cool gaze.

"Did you?" Gwen tilted her head, looking between the three of them, "Remind me, what did I say?"

Cordelia was glaring hard at Gwen, barely containing the worry, anger, and other emotions running through her. Even so, she kept her composure admirably.

"You'll return Madeline..." she said, taking a pause to swallow the rising emotion in her voice, trying to remain calm, "If we capture or kill those who started this. The Noble Faction."

"Right you are," Gwen nodded, and Noah once more slammed his fist on the table, but this time stood from his chair.

"We did that!" he declared, practically spitting his words, "I lost good men doing so too! I had to kill someone I thought of as my own uncle! Give Madeline back!"

"Noah..." his mother, Yasmina tried to calm him down, grabbing him by the arms, "Please...sit back down. We'll get her back, we'll-"

"No!" he brushed his mother off of him, pointing a finger at Gwen, "This bitch needs to keep her word! I'm tired of-"

A chill rose in the air, cutting off his words as all eyes turned towards Vincent.

"Prince Noah," Vincent's tone was calm and collected, yet the threat beneath was obvious, "I'm only going to be polite once. Sit back down, or lose your legs. It would be in your best interest to listen to what Gwen has to say."

He glared at Vincent, a strong resentment in his eyes. Despite this defiance, Noah begrudgingly sat down. Even he wasn't naive enough to think he had the upper hand here.

"This is all your fault," Noah blamed Vincent, "If it wasn't for you...Madeline would be safe, and you let him use your Mage-Guard use your name? Pfft, this is why-"

"Noah," Gwen's words were firm as she interrupted him, "Vincent is more than my Mage-Guard. As for Madeline, the only one at fault is herself. She touched what is mine after I explicitly warned everyone. He's been through enough, and she tortured him. Practically flayed him."

There was a deadly silence which fell over them. Even Noah knew better than to snap back right now.

"She's lucky I didn't take her skin," Gwen said, causing Cordelia to cover her mouth in horror, "Don't worry, she's intact...for the most part. I healed her. She'll only bear some scars. More than I could say for all those she's harmed over the years."

"Gwenevere, please..." Cordelia was practically begging now, "Can I at least see her?"

"What the hell?" Noah looked at Cordelia in disgust, "You just want to see her. I thought we came to get her back?"

"Honestly, Noah..." Gwen sighed, shaking her head, "I know you're not stupid, but sometimes...I fucking wonder. Tell me, were all the leaders of the Noble Faction here?"

"What? Of course...not, fuck," realization dawned on him as he flung himself back in his chair, crossing his arms in defiance, "You sneaky bit...ahem, I mean, that's fucked up, Gwen."

He glanced at Vincent with slight fear in his eyes. He caught himself, knowing better than to call her a bitch again.

"I keep my word, Noah," Gwen told him, motioning towards one of the guards, "However, I'm not so cruel as to not allow you to see her. There's a reason we're all at this table together...and why there are three extra chairs. Vincent, please...sit."

Pulling out the chair directly to her left, Vincent sat as the guard Gwen motioned towards left the room. The two other empty chairs were next to Vincent, directly opposite the Queen-Consorts and Noah. With her at the head of the table, there were three to a side.

"We all fought hard," Gwen said with some difficulty, "And it has been a while since we've all eaten as...family."

She practically choked on the word. Noah scoffed, yet said nothing. Cordelia and Yasmina looked to each other apprehensively. They were cautious, which was understandable, but they didn't need to be.

"Relax," Gwen told them, "I'm not going to eat you. I'm being quite genuine here, not that I enjoy it. I'll never forgive any of you for what you've done, but I keep my word...so long as you keep yours."

"...What do you want?" Yasmina inquired hesitantly, "For our lives...you want something, or you would have killed us by now."

"Smart," Gwen acknowledged, "You've no idea how much I want to flay you all alive. Mainly for your part in what happened to Vincent. How you made my life a living hell. Helped plunge this Empire into a cesspit. That alone is enough to put you to death."

Gwen shifted in her seat, passing her gaze over them. She had long since thought about how to deal with them, and while death was always an option...she had other plans. Death was too simple. Too easy. No, she would completely destroy them, and if they had any sense...they would accept it.

"You cling to your titles, your power, your wealth," Gwen continued as several servants began to file in, setting the table before them, "You squander it. You know nothing about the struggles of the people you oppressed. Do you know what they've eaten while you gorged yourselves?"

"...I assume meat, bread?" Yasmina chimed up, looking to Cordelia and Noah for help, "I mean...they raise the cattle, grow the wheat. They have to-"

"Wrong," Gwen cut her off, "While they did have bread, it was often stale. Old. Any meat they grew, it was confiscated. Surely, you know the laws you passed? The taxes you imposed?"

"I...I mean, we didn't..." Cordelia attempted to defend herself, but her words trailed off under Gwen's intense stare.

"You did, Cordelia," Gwen said, propping her head against her hand as she leaned on the arm of her chair, "All of you did. If they couldn't make bread, they had to buy it, but...with the taxes, all they could afford was the stuff almost going bad. Hard as a rock."

To emphasis this, a wooden tray was set upon the table with loafs of bread, barely the size of a fist. The Queen-Consorts and Noah looked at them warily. They weren't moldy, and in fact didn't look bad.

"Go on, touch one," Gwen urged them, and Noah hesitantly grabbed one.

He took it in his hand and immediately widened his eyes.

"They're hard as a rock..." he tapped it on the table, and it made a heavy thumping sound.

"I wasn't lying," Gwen said casually, "This is what they eat, if they can afford it, but as I'm sure you're wondering...how?"

"I mean...it did cross my mind," Yasmina reached for one of them, turning it over in her hand, "I didn't really think of it. They're just filth. Common blood."

Gwen's eyebrow twitched, and Yasmina quickly realized her mistake. However, Gwen remained calm.

"Well, you sit at a table with one of those filthy commonfolk," Gwen said, slightly mocking them, "Tell me. Look at him. If you didn't know his origins...would you know he's of common blood?"

It was the first time that Gwen was surprised by the three of them, for they genuinely looked at him with intent. An intent to truly assess him. There was still scorn in Noah's eyes, with a hint of jealousy, but then...

"No, damn it," Noah admitted begrudgingly, "I hate it, but the bastard's good looking, clean...he's nothing like what they say a commoner should be."

"I'll excuse you for calling him a bastard this time, Noah," Gwen passed a cool eye over him, "Only because you now understand...what they say and what one is are two different things. Blood is only important insofar that it holds a responsibility. It is nobilities' duty to protect its people. Without its people, the nobles have nothing."

At the moment, a large kettle with a ladle was set in the middle of the table, steaming hot and smelling not so bad. Even Noah was beginning to look upon the pot with a hunger in his eyes.

"They sacrifice so that you can live in luxury," Gwen looked up as the door opened from outside, and in stepped her mother.

She wore a beautiful dress that looked to have been made of the very night sky. It flowed beautifully as she made her way in.

"I hope I'm not late," she said with a kind smile, a smug look cast over the Queen-Consorts and Noah, "It's been a while...not long enough, though."

Cordelia stood, eyes widened in surprise and slight fear. Yasmina tensed, attempting to melt into her chair, pulling her son with her.

"L-Lucine..." Cordelia greeted, "I didn't know you were...I mean, you're here."

"Of course I'm here," Gwen's mother clicked her tongue, "Honestly, did you not see the Elven Banners? I'm here to support my daughter. Just as you're her for yours. I hope you do well to listen to mine."

"..." Cordelia remained silently, slowly sitting back down as Gwen's mother took the farthest seat to the left, leaving the middle open. It was obvious now who the last seat was for, yet no one said a thing.

"Now, as I was saying," Gwen greeted her mother with a nod, though didn't stop to say anything, "In order for them to survive, they had to make do with what little they had, and in some cases...they did well, but nothing like what you eat every day. Tell me, what did you truly think they eat?"

Yasmina looked hesitantly at the hard bread and the pot in the middle of the table. She went to open her mouth to speak, yet paused before finally saying what she wanted.

"Honestly?" she looked a little ashamed, "I thought they ate gruel. Bland food that's not fit for a Noble's palate."

"Didn't you say earlier they ate meat and bread?" Gwen inquired, "Were you lying?"

"I..." she sighed, crossing her arms defiantly before her, "No, but...it can't be any good, right?"

"Can't it?" Gwen sighed, shaking her head, "We're waiting for one more, so we can't eat yet, but when they're here...you'll find out for yourself."

Gwen reached over, taking a loaf of bread for herself. This prompted Vincent and her mother to take one as well. Neither looked to be shocked by how hard the bread was.

"In the meantime, let me explain something," Gwen continued, motioning to the food before them, "Everything you have was taken from the working class. Yet, you're never grateful. You're greedy. Always wanting more. You know what you've done, yet now you act innocent."

They looked away, completely ashamed to be called out. She knew that they understood what they've done, but now they were acting all coy and meek.

"What would you have of us?" Yasmina inquired with a bit of a bite to her tone, "We can't change what we've done. It's already happened."

A menacing pressure filled the room as Gwen exuded some of her aura.

"You can admit it," Gwen's words echoed with the anger she felt inside, "At least pretend like you're sorry, but you're not. None of you are."

"...Why should we be sorry for them?" Noah asked disdainfully, "They were born beneath us. That's not my fault."

"It's your duty to protect them, because you were born above them," Gwen seethed, barely containing herself, "Not to take advantage of them. To bleed them dry."

Noah grimaced under her pressure before she released it, and perhaps she was seeing things, but she swore, for a brief moment, he had actually thought about what she said. She didn't know if he would ever regret what he's done, but...she would make sure he could never do it again.

Just as she finished speaking, the door opened, and Madeline was escorted in by several guards. Immediately, Cordelia once more stood from her chair, but this time in excitement. Madeline's eyes widened, having been told nothing about why she was there, and after a nod from Gwen, the guards freed her bindings and allowed her to rush to her mother's side.

They embraced, hugging each other tearfully.

"Mother!" Madeline cried, "I thought I'd never see you again!"

"Me too, Sweetie, me too," Cordelia joined in on the tears.

Gwen allowed them a moment of reunion before making her presence known.

"This is all very touching, but it's time for you to sit, Maddie," Gwen motioned towards the chair between Vincent and her mother, "Be grateful I'm even allowing you near him."

Madeline looked to the seat, then to her mother as if searching for some kind of answer or permission. Cordelia nodded, and Madeline reluctantly moved to her spot. She gave Vincent a sheepishly, surprisingly almost apologetic, glance before sitting down. Vincent, for his part, completely ignored her.

"Now that the entire family is together..." Gwen gave Madeline the abbreviated version of what she had told the others to catch her up, "And so, because of that, they had to find a way to soften the bread."

Gwen placed the loaf of bread in the center of the wooden bowl that had been placed before her. She then reached for the ladle, lifting from it the soup within and pouring it over the bread and filling the bowl with it. Gwen was not a stranger to this kind of food, for she has eaten it on many occasions, and truth be told...it was a sort of comfort food.

It reminded Gwen of the strength the people had. The resiliency. She was reminded of the warmth of the those who had served this to her. They apologized for it not being enough, when it was all they had. She would always remember them, and for that reason...she loved this food.

Of course, she hoped to change the food that the people ate in the future, but she believed that this would always be a part of their lives. Traditions often came from the most difficult of times and grew into something special. This, she believed, would be one of them.

"You really want us to eat that?" Noah remarked with a scoff, "That's peasant food..."

"Yes, I do expect you to eat it," Gwen replied coolly, "Don't lie to yourself. I saw you salivating over it. Swallow your pride...and dish up."

This was not a request, and as she motioned towards the pot, one by one, each of them mimicked her, serving themselves.

"It's different having to serve yourself, isn't it?" she asked rhetorically, "Imagine having to bring your own dishes to the table, and even make your own food. You were lucky today."

Gwen allowed the bread to sit for a while before digging in with her spoon. The bread gave way as it soaked up all of the juices of the soup and began to eat with gusto. It was absolutely delicious. It was made with chicken broth and a few garden vegetables. It wasn't much, and had little to no meat in it. Yet, the taste was absolutely divine.

The way the bread crumbled in her mouth as the soup coated her tongue...it was incredibly savory. Before she knew it, she had eaten all of it, and to her pleasant surprise, the Queen-Consorts, and their children, both seemed to be enjoying the food.

"This is...quite simple, but it's incredible," Yasmina proclaimed in surprise, finishing her bowl, "I never imagined...the commonfolk eat this?"

"It's all they eat," Gwen corrected, "Imagine this for breakfast, lunch, and dinner. Sometimes they'll have more meat, and a few times they'll have something different for breakfast, but this...this is all they have, and for many, it's their lifeblood."

"We eat more than this, Gwen," Vincent reminded her coyly, "Come on, don't make us look that bad."

"Heh, I apologize," she chuckled, "Vincent is correct. They often had other types of soups, and if they could afford it, they could make sandwiches with good bread."

"Sometimes, you'd even be lucky to get something like this," Vincent lifted his spoon to show a decent chunk of chicken amongst the soggy bread before it disappeared into his mouth.

"Commonfolk adapt," Gwen explained, setting down her utensils and pouring herself a glass of water, "They learn to make the best of a shitty situation...until they can't. You starve them. You freeze them. You slaughter them."

Yasmina tensed up as Gwen said this, for it was aimed at her.

"Oh yes, I heard about what you did in Shroudmore," Gwen's words were like an executioners blade hanging over Yasmina's neck, "Those people did nothing wrong. They were starving. Neglected by your son, and in your belligerent anger...you sentenced them to death."

"I...you're right," Yasmina's face went as white as a ghost, "I ordered their deaths..."

"Mother..." Noah placed a comforting hand upon her shoulder, but Yasmina simply shook her head.

"I can't bring them back, Gwen," she whispered, horror in her eyes, "Are we to die when this is all over?"

There was a heavy silence that fell over them all in that moment. Gwen had thought of it, but that remained to be seen.

"Trust me, I want to," Gwen admitted, finally breaking the silence, "The whole reason I gathered you here, to show you this...all the bodies that soak the ground outside. Know the weight of your sins."

She let her words hang in the air for a moment. Letting them sink in.

"For your lives, and all you've done..." Gwen leaned forward, clasping her hands before her, a grave look to her eyes, "What are you willing to give up?"

Madeline looked to the empty bowl before her with her spoon sitting within. Gwen noticed a spark of understanding within her eyes.

"So...that's what you meant," she scoffed, but not in anger or malice, but rather...exhaustion, "What do you want, Gwen?"

She looked up at her with a fiery determination. No one wanted to die, and when faced with their own mortality, and the sins they have committed, one would be willing to do anything for a chance to live.

"It's simple," Gwen lowered her hands, looking between her, Noah, and the Queen-Consorts, "If you wish to survive this war...you'll renounce everything. Your titles, your blood. Any claim to the throne for you or your descendants. You will become commoners like those whose lives you have destroyed."

Madeline's face hardened, while the other three looked to be conflicted.

"This will be done publicly, after the war," Gwen continued, leaning back in her chair, "There, I will ensure that none of you can ever use Mana again."

"What!?" Noah lurched forward, eyes wide in disbelief, "You're not serious! How will we defend ourselves? How will we-"

"You'll learn what it's like to be helpless," Gwen interrupted calmly, "From there, it's up to you what you do with your lives. However, I will say this...if I so much as catch a whiff of you falling into your old habits...your descendants will never see the light of day."

They all slumped back into their chairs, lost in thought of what she was asking of them.

"You'll destroy us..." Cordelia muttered, "Everything we built...gone."

"It was never yours to begin with," Gwen said coldly, "Everything you and your families have was built on the blood and bones of those you've trampled on. Both commonfolk and noble born. Anyone you deemed your lesser."

"...We'd have to start from nothing," Yasmina sounded mortified, "You'll exile us...condemn us. Where will we go? Everyone will know of us..."

"You might as well kill, Gwen," Noah shook his head, "Without a way to defend ourselves, what's to stop them from killing us?"

Gwen knew this would come up. It had crossed her mind as well. A devilish smirk crossed her lips, though she tried to hide it.

"I'm not without mercy, dear brother," Gwen said, "I will defeat the Emperor, and when I become Empress, I will declare an Imperial Order that will keep you alive, but as you know...Imperial Orders only extend so far as the Empire's borders. You must remain here to benefit."

A dread filled their faces, for they understood the horror of what she had just said. To most, this might seem like an incredible mercy, but everyone in the Empire knew their faces. Knew who they were, what they've done. Especially because they would make a public announcement of their abdication.

For so long as they remained in the Empire, they may not be harmed, but they'd never be treated fairly. They'd always be looked upon with scorn and shunned from every single social circle. It would be a lonely, solitary life. They'd have to fend completely for themselves.

Finding work would be near impossible. Buying anything would prove difficult as they found prices suddenly increased to an unfair amount. Their lives would never be the same. They had a choice. Live in safety, but extreme difficulty within the Empire, or try their chances outside of the Empire where their lives were not guaranteed. Their enemies were not limited to just the Empire.

"...I agree," Madeline was the first to speak, sitting up in her chair.

"You surprise me, Maddie," Gwen was genuinely shocked she was the first to agree, and with absolutely no fuss too, "You understand what I'm asking."

"You told me before to think about what I'd give up..." she took a deep breath, looking up at Gwen with a surprising determination, "I had a long time to think about this. Not just since you told me. I've thought about this since you captured me."

She lifted the cup she was drinking with to her lips, taking a slow drink from it before continuing. All eyes, and ears, were on her.

"I hate to admit it," she said while shaking her head, "You're right, Gwen. You've always been right, and it's frustrated me to no end. I've always been jealous of you. I've done horrible things."

"What are you saying...Madeline?" Noah looked to be lost, "You've...I mean, we've done what was only necessary. That's what you said. You said that-"

"I was wrong, Noah," Madeline stated firmly, "Think about what we've done. Remember how you felt when I disappeared...when you saw me earlier. That's what we've done to others."

"B-But...you said not to care about others," Noah's entire world was collapsing, "You said that we should take what we want. From whoever it is. It's our birthright. You...you lied."

Noah completely collapsed in his chair, holding his head in his hands.

"Was everything you said...a lie?" he began to shake, peaking through his hands at her in disbelief, "W-What about everything you said about me? Did you...did you ever care about me?"

"Noah..." Madeline swallowed hard, closing her eyes as she took another breath, as she opened her eyes, he saw the truth, "I used you like I used everyone, Noah, but...I do care about you. Gods, do I care about you."

Noah's defenses completely crumbled. He let out ragged breaths of relief, yet he still looked completely broken.

"I realized something, when Gwen had me confined..." Madeline continued, staring into her cup of water as she began to swirl it around, "I thought, 'Noah will find me. He's a good boy. I trained him well'. But...then I realized something. How hurt you had to of been. You genuinely, truly love me. Care for me."

Noah looked at her with a pained expression, unable to say anything as he simply listened. Yasmina looked at her with disbelief, and Cordelia...well, she didn't seem too surprised, just slightly...guilty. Ashamed, even.

"That's when it hit me," Madeline sighed, downing the rest of her water in one gulp before speaking once more, "I didn't like the thought of you being hurt. You'd be broken without me, and I...I'm broken without you. I've relied on you for too damn long, and somewhere along the way...I genuinely grew fond of you. Noah, I don't know if you can ever forgive me, but-"

"I do," Noah blurted, surprising even himself, "I mean...I do forgive you. You had your reasons, right? I mean...I probably would have done the same."

"No, you wouldn't have," Madeline shook her head, "You're too sweet for that. I made you how you are. It's my responsibility to undo that. Gwen, I'll take that chance. Whether we live or die, it'll be on our heads."

"...Still making decisions for me?" Noah let out a brief laugh, and all he could do was smile, "Damn it, Madeline. Of course, I'll trust you as I always have. I won't stop now. I agree, Gwen."

"Thank you, Noah," Madeline gave him a kind smile, one he returned.

Yasmina and Cordelia looked to each other, both of them coming to a silent understanding.

"Well..." Cordelia sighed, "We can't just leave our children alone. We agree."

Gwen took a deep breath while Vincent visibly relaxed. Even Gwen's mother seemed to be satisfied with this decision as she took a delicate sip from her cup.

"Perfect," Gwen acknowledged their choices, "Just so you're aware...I've recorded this conversation. I'll also be watching you very closely, and as touching as all of this was...you still have your end of the bargain to fulfill."

Madeline tilted her head in confusion, but before anyone could explain, it dawned upon her. Sighing in resignation, she nodded.

"Clever wording, Gwen," she scoffed amusingly, "I'll be a good prisoner until they're done. So...maybe I could get clean clothes?"

"We'll see," Gwen motioned for the guards to prepare to take her away, "Say your goodbyes now."

Madeline embraced her mother once more, then Yasmina, and finally Noah. One could be forgiven for paying heed to the rumors that surrounded them. Noah clung to her desperately as she consoled him. Her hand caressing his head.

"I'll see you again before you know it," Madeline told him, placing a gentle kiss upon his forehead, "Be a good boy until then."

"...Yeah," he nodded, his expression conflicted, but mostly was sad he had to see her go, "I'll see you soon."

With that, Madeline was taken from the room and returned from where she came. Yasmina and Cordelia excused themselves, taking Noah with them. This left Gwen, Vincent, and her mother, Lucine, alone in the room, for Gwen had dismissed the other guards.

"...You're kinder than me, Little Flame," her mother commented after a while, "But, that's why you'll be the perfect Empress. Mercy within measure. Ruthlessness when necessary. To combine the two...that takes talent."

"Ha, we'll see if the people agree," Gwen leaned back, holding her head as it began to pound, "Not many will understand my choice."

"They rarely do," she replied with an amused smirk, "What's important is that you're okay with it, and the people will follow. Honestly, while you're kinder...the fate you've given them is a cruel one. Whether they survive or not...we will see. For now...I'll leave you two. It's been a long night, and I'd like to wash myself of their presence."

Standing elegantly, she bowed her head to them, telling Vincent it was lovely to see him again, and then promptly left. Gwen rubbed her temples, already feeling the pressure of what was to come ahead of her. Though she had one, and the Noble Faction had all but been destroyed...it was far from over.

That's when she felt the cool, gentle touch of Vincent, having stood from his seat and placed his hand upon her head.

"Is it bad?" he asked, genuinely concerned, "Do you wish for me to retrieve some pills?"

"No," she shook her head with a tender smile, "This is perfect."

She relaxed against his touch, closing her eyes and already feeling better.

"Then, I shall continue until it's gone," he said simply, adjusting the coolness of his touch.

"You spoil me," Gwen let out a satisfied sigh, but as the words left her lips, she felt his hand slightly flinch at them, "What's wrong? Did I do something?"

"...No," he answered, sounding a little pensive and melancholic, "Is now a good time...to talk? I don't want to make your headache worse."

Gwen reached up to take his hand, feeling him drop the coldness as she opened her eyes. Looking at him inquisitively, she saw the uncertainty in his eyes.

"Let's move somewhere more comfortable," Gwen stood from her chair, "You can continue your treatment, and I'll listen to whatever you have to say."

"...Sounds like a plan," he smiled, appearing relieved.

It was honestly adorable, and so the two of them found themselves in the room that had been procured for her, despite her protests. The soldiers insisted she have a decent bed, and Vincent's room wasn't far away. There, in a decently cushioned chair, Vincent returned to helping her headache, and she listened to everything that had happened to him today.

She couldn't say she wasn't conflicted about it, but in the end...she was proud of him. She couldn't like Vanessa, but she now understood a bit more about her and the life she lived. He showed her the journal, and the drawing he kept safe.

"Is it alright...if I keep it?" he wondered, unsure, "The drawing, I mean. The journal I'll probably burn."

"That's your choice, Vincent," she told him gentle, "Just know...you don't owe her anything."

"I know, but..." he sighed, tilting his head in that adorable way of his, "The one who drew this, though. The one who died in my arms...it was not the same woman I knew. It was who she was meant to be."

"Keep it, then," Gwen told him, placing a tender hand upon his arm, "A reminder of who she could have been. It's how you want to remember her, despite the pain she's caused. I won't tell you otherwise, and I won't let anyone else either."

"...Now who's spoiling who?" he chuckled with a smirk, returning both the journal and the drawing safely back where he had them, "Now...lay back. That headache isn't going to take care of itself."

"Yes, Sir," she said playfully, doing as she was told.

She couldn't say that she was happy about learning Vanessa's fate. It left a sour taste in her mouth to know that the woman she had hated, had just been another pawn in the Noble Factions schemes. Of course, she had always known she was a pawn, but never to what extent.

She couldn't like Vanessa, but she allowed herself to let go of a little bit of the hate she had. As for Vincent...he was free to do what he wanted. She would never hold him back. He had made his own decisions, and she wasn't about to tell him that he was wrong. He was his own person.

They may not always agree, and that's okay. Gwen loved him regardless. That night, perhaps it was the first time she admitted it to herself. Seeing him grow into his own person had made her realize her feelings were not just superficial, but all too incredibly real.

Tonight was her victory, in many ways.

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