Chapter 11 – No pain no gain
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She didn't even make it halfway through the training court before Haron’s voice startled her.

"No more lessons?"

“Oh my– Don’t move so stealthily!”

Hazel fought the urge to huff. She was used to getting the drop on people, not the other way around. Fixing her ponytail, she then gave him a wide grin.

"I am done with the morning program." Hazel said before adding apprehensively, "I just have to suffer for the other half of the day and I will be done."

Although his face showed no sign of it, she could have sworn Haron laughed. It was a faint, tiny sound but she was certain she heard it.

“You certainly have a talent for exaggeration.”

“Tsk. Is that a way to comfort your sister? Shouldn’t you be defending me against Sir Kabal?”

“Sorry.” Although he apologized, Haron’s voice did not contain a hint of remorse, on the contrary. “There is nothing I can do for you. You chose your fate.”

“Mean.” Hazel pouted. “How come you never practice with me?”

Since she started having frequent training sessions with Kabal, her schedule had been so busy she barely had the opportunity to spend time with Haron. Lately, they only met in passing as they both went to their respective training.

“Compared to me, who has years of experience, you only just started. If you sparred against me you would not stand a chance.” Haron replied, praising himself in the process.

“How cocky.” She scoffed. “You might regret saying that when I get better.”

“I will be waiting.” He laughed as he took off to the other side of the court where his own personal teacher was probably waiting.

“You rascal.”

 

Soon after Haron left, Hazel’s own spartan training started.

She didn’t know what the duchess said to her husband but she must have been especially convincing. Thanks to her, Hazel’s sessions had moved on from the pointless torture Kabal subjected her to and she had started learning how to stand and hold her sword.

Hazel stepped carefully across the training ground, turning her wooden sword in hand.

Although her eyes were focused on the invisible opponent in front of her, she could still hear Kabal chiding her for having forgotten the basic moves he taught her earlier in the week.

“You must practice every day, or your body forgets. When your body forgets, it stumbles when you need it most. And you die.”

Although a tad dramatic, his words rung true to Hazel. She knew she had to rehearse each movement at least one hundred times if she wanted to get better. Her schedule didn’t allow her to practice in the right conditions everyday. Outside of the hours she spent in Kabal’s company, she also practiced in her room when she was alone. It was not ideal but it couldn’t be helped for the moment.

Hazel started again with the basics. The footwork. She practiced all of the forms again. Her body had not yet forgotten the stances, even though some of them were clumsy.

When the footwork felt sound again, Kabal ordered her to add the wooden sword to the mix. She lunged and stabbed, then retreated. Kabal made her execute the sequence again and again until it perfectly mimicked what he had showed her.

She blocked one invisible strike, then a second. She imagined she was fighting the Crown Prince, the man who was the most likely to try and kill her in the future.

“Again. Straighten you back. Hold your sword properly.”

She corrected her stances and started the sequence from the beginning.

“Keep your eyes focused on your opponent.”

She kept going for hours until he deemed her movements satisfactory. At the end of the day, she could barely walk to the dinning-room. For each step she took, her body protested to the point that she started to miss the time when the only thing he made her do was run around the court.

 


 

Hazel considered herself a pretty good judge of character. She had always been. Just by spending a few minutes in someone’s presence, she could tell whether that person was shady or not. It wasn’t full-proof of course but it had worked 90% of the time. That ability to differentiate friends from foes had helped her build the very few friendships she had as Hazel Jennings and it was definitely helping her now when dealing with Miraella Velpassi.

Miraella, or Mirae as she told Hazel to call her in one of her letters, was the daughter of Count Velpassi an influential merchant noble in the East of Prath. Although their ruled over a rather small plot of land, they were known all around the empire and abroad for their luxury and cosmetic enterprises.

Suffice to say, Mirae was a prized guest. Which also explained why the duchess had encouraged their correspondence and even offered a Maeve-like praise for Hazel’s networking abilities.

Hazel was still on the fence when it came to her new ‘friend’. She knew the little girl wasn’t solely looking for friendship when she approached her. It couldn’t be because of her winning personality. Mirae had hidden intentions and Hazel was starting to guess what they could be.

Hazel was watching the scene unfolding in front of her with a look of amusement. If there was one thing the reincarnated teenager lived for, it was drama, and the dining room practically smelled of it.

Haron was glaring hard at Miraella Velpassi. The young girl was acting like she was completely oblivious to the flashes of hostility thrown in her direction.

As she twirled her little spoon in her now empty cup, Hazel felt magnanimous enough to quell her enjoyment and attempt to dissipate the tension.

“Why don’t we move over to the gardens. The freshly bloomed flowers would make a more enjoyable view to go with this fragrant tea.”

“With pleasure Lady Hazel.” The little girl replied while her brother remained silent.

The 3 of children, accompanied by their personal attendants, got out of the small reception room and headed to the gardens as Sophie ordered surrounding maids to bring down some tea and biscuits.

Hazel used this opportunity to approach her brooding brother.

"Don't glare at her like that." She said in a hushed whisper. "You will scare her off."

Her brother kept glowering at their guest without even bothering to hide her animosity.

Haron just huffed. "Good."

That was the idea. He didn't know what intention that leech had when she approached his sister, but whatever they were, he'd make sure she never felt comfortable enough in his presence to forget what he could do to her if she stepped out of line.

Lady velpassi, however, merely lifted her head, pausing in the middle of the stairs to look at him. She probably heard him. She turned her head so that she was facing him and responded to his glare with a bright smile.

She expected this reaction from him. The members of the Vedar family were known to be distrustful of other nobles. It had been a surprise for her to get invited to the estate so easily. It was a chance she didn’t plan on wasting.

Her smile widened and she fluttered her eyelashes a bit as she gazed directly into his eyes.

“I apologize if I make you uncomfortable Mr Haron—”

“Vedar.”

“Huh?”

“I do not believe we are familiar enough for you to use my name as you please.” He replied harshly. “Same goes for my sister.”

“I understand Mr Vedar. I would not dare disrespect you.” She conceded, unfazed. “I have no doubt you will allow that liberty when we get… better acquainted.”

“…”

While Haron remained silent, dumbfounded by her audacity. Hazel, on the other hand, audibly gasped.

“You can use mine as you please, of course. I will allow it.” She added with a flirtatious smirk that seemed out of place on an 11-year-old child.

 “How bold!” Hazel jokingly whispered in Haron’s ear.

Her brother did not seem to enjoy Miraella’s boldness as much as she did but Hazel was thoroughly entertained by this girl.

She does have a crush on Haron.  How cute.

“Lady Hazel,” Miraella returned her attention to the person who invited her, “Oh… Should I call you Lady Vedar instead?” Still fluttering her eyelashes in a way that made Hazel wonder if something was wrong with her eyes, Miraella asked her host in a ploy to make her define their relationship as a burgeoning friendship.

“Do not be so formal. You can just call me Hazel.” Hazel responded quickly while scrunching her face in distaste. Being called ‘Lady Vedar’ reminded her of the duchess.

Miraella beamed. She enveloped both of Hazel’s hands in her own, holding them like they were an apple in the hands of a starved person.

“I would be honored to be able to call you my friend, Lady Ha— I mean, Hazel.”

Wow wow wow! Let’s not rush things.

“Umm… okay?... Let’s maybe… get to know each other first, hm.”

“Of course, Lad–  Hazel. I can tell you anything you want to know about me. You just have to ask.”

“…O…kay?” Hazel replied, increasingly uncomfortable with Miraella’s intrusion of her personal space.

The older girl then turned her shining eager eyes to a visibly displeased Haron. “You too Mr Vedar. It would be a pleasure to tell you more about me.”

With a mixture of uneasiness and confusion, Haron stared at her as though to understand what could possibly be wrong with this girl.

“That is enough!” Haron finally intervened, breaking the hold Miraella had on his sister’s hands. “Please, show some decorum. Your behaviour is utterly inappropriate.”

“I apologize Mr Vedar. It seems my enthusiasm got the best of me.” She said fixing a strand of hair that fell on her forehead.”

Her eyes fell on her hand which was still in contact with the young lord’s. She seized his, refusing to let go even as his glare grew menacing.

“It is quite gentlemanly of you to offer to escort me. The stairs can be quite hazardous for a young lady such as myself.”

Has this woman lost her mind?

Haron was left incredulous at her intrepid demeanour.

“You climbed them on your own when you came here. You will be fine walking on your own again.”

Haron desperately tried to keep her away from him without physically pushing her away. Although he contemplated it, he knew it would be inappropriate for him to brutalise her in that way, especially with so many eyes on them.

“I feel a little dizzy now. I could fall at any moment.” She quickly rebutted, further entangling her arms with his and thus sticking closer to his side.

“If you are unwell go back to your home.”

“How could I shorten my visit when I was so generously invited by your sister. She would be sad if I were to leave so abruptly.”

They both turned they head to where Hazel was standing earlier, only to find an empty spot. The black-haired girl had disappeared and, in her stead, stood Sophie who informed them of her whereabouts.

“Lady Hazel has already left. She tasked me to tell you to join her in the gazebo when you are done with your… ‘cringy flirting’.” Sophie quoted her master.

Haron’s complexion took a coloring similar to his eyes and he finally manged to detangle himself from the insufferable leech.

“I was not–“

He let out an exhausted sigh, it was no use trying to justify himself. He headed down the stairs, already wishing that this day would come to an end or that the ground would open and swallow the Velpassi girl.

“Lead the way my lord.” She called from behind him in a sing song voice.

Her honey-coated reply sent an unpleasant shiver through Haron’s spine.

What a difficult person to deal with! Hopefully, this is her last visit.

 


 

Hazel stabbed out at the invisible opponents one after the other, then spun around. Her blade clanged off of another sword.

Kabal smirked down at her.

"Good. You are starting to get it. Should we add more difficult movements? Or maybe a real opponent?"

Hazel paled and stepped back a few feet, hiding needle behind her back. She didn’t want to spar against him. The smile he wore made her even more suspicious of his ability to go easy on a beginner like her.

Hazel swallowed hard. Her grip tightened on wooden sword. She was not ready to fight against anyone now. She had mastered the footwork and basic attacks and parries but her level could not be compared to that of Haron’s and even less Kabal’s.

"I think I need more practice."

“You cannot keep fighting against air.  You need to test your skill against another sword.”

“Someone, yes. But not you.”

“Why not?” He asked offended. “I would be the perfect sparring partner for you. I know exactly where your weak points are and could force you to correct them.”

It doesn’t sound reassuring, you brute. The problem is that you don’t know the meaning of moderation.

“I don’t want to.” Hazel stubbornly refused as she put her sword behind her.

“What are you scared of?” He pouted at her refusal.

Does he not see the issue here?

“Our levels are clearly not matched. I would lose in 5 seconds. I did no sign up to get beat up. Nuh-huh.”

“If you do not want to get beat up, you should give up now. A swordsman should always be prepared to face someone stronger than themselves.”

“Well, I am not one yet. And sparring against you would not help me progress, I would only be humiliated.”

While she was complaining, Kabal kept swinging his sword around, carelessly, like it was the first time he was holding one.

"I forgot how light these are.” He then returned his attention to the frowning little girl. “Sparring is not fighting. I will not cut you," Kabal promised with a haughty smirk.

Her eyes narrowed and she raised her wooden sword. “How nice of you." The slight challenge banished Hazel's uncertainty.

She couldn’t beat him but she had mad great progresses since she started training with him a few months ago. Running so much had made her a lot quicker and more agile. And although her noble-lady body was not yet used to the strain she put it through, she had gained in stamina, strength and technique. Perhaps that was the reason why Kabal insisted that she sparred against him.

Kabal chuckled a bit before stepping to the side. She mirrored him, keeping light on her feet, just as he had taught her. When he suddenly stepped in the other direction, she changed course.

"Your footwork is good." The knight said.

"My teacher said footwork was one of the most important skills." Hazel replied with a toothy smirk. "He said it could make the difference between staying alive and dying."

"Your teacher was right." Kabal chuckled. His eyes seemed to flash and he flicked out his sword with a speed that his frame shouldn’t enable. Hazel parried just in time and with great difficulty. His strike was both strong and incredibly fast, which was to be expected from someone who quite arrogantly called himself ‘the best swordsman in the South’.

He kept pressing on her wooden weapon, testing the limits of her defensive stance. He probably wasn’t even using that much strength but her small body could barely take it. Beads of sweat were already sliding down her temples.

And we just started. At this rate I won’t even last 2 strikes.

He struck out again and she blocked again. "He taught you reflexes too."

"I can be quick." Hazel retorted, out of breath but with dubiously warranted confidence.

Kabal raised an eyebrow and smirked. He heard the challenge loud and clear. He took a few steps back to let her rest a little.

It would be a shame to tire her out straight away. Let us see how fast you can be young miss.

"Undoubtedly." The knight suddenly appeared in front of her again, raising his sword a bit.

He struck again.

This time, Kabal did not pause between blows. He rained strike after strike down on her as she blocked and dodged as fast as she could. The grace and speed with which he moved his huge body made it all look so easy. She knew he was still holding back quite a lot, sparring against her posed no challenge for him.

He was backing her up toward the wall.

“Never let your enemy back you into a corner. That corner will become your grave.”

She used her small size to her advantage, ducking under his next blow and spinning around him, away from the wall.

"Smart," her opponent complimented. "But do you plan on ducking and dodging forever? You will not win that way."

Hazel's eyes narrowed as she avoided his next blow.

“I’m not trying to win. I’m trying to not get my head cut off”

“You will not be able to protect your head if you tire yourself out without even touching your opponent once.”

When she was far enough from him to have the time to regain a bit of energy, she looked for an opening. He was full of them. Judging by him stance, he wasn’t even defending himself. The way he held his weapon, with a loose and unfocused grip, particularly irked Hazel. It was like he wasn’t taking her seriously, like she wasn’t even enough of a threat for him to hold his sword properly.

Is he mocking me? Does he really think I won’t be able to hit him?

Anger coursed through her mind, blinding her judgement. She pinpointed the easiest opening to attack, then she went for a lunge.

It was a mistake.

Kabal was expecting the move and he caught her wrist, twisting her sword from her grasp. In the same motion he knocked her flat with the hilt of his blade and she gasped for breath as she hit the ground. The next thing she knew, he stood over her, his sword aimed at her neck.

"Don't let your opponent bait you into an attack," he said. "Especially when you know they have more experience."

“You said you wouldn’t hurt me.” Hazel whined, salty that she was defeated so easily.

“I remember saying that I would not cut you and I did not.” He held his hand out for her and hoisted her back to her feet.

“Semantics. Technically you can’t cut me with wood.”

“You would be surprised.” He chuckled lightly. “Anyway, you did well. Really well. You are too small to parry all of my attacks but you were right your speed and agility are assets that you will have to hone.”

“Does that mean I won’t have to spar against you ever again?” Hazel asked, her eyes shining with hope.

“No, it just means that we will spar more often and that you will run more laps.”

He was obviously enjoying her disappointment as she heard his words. She was more interesting than what he had expected her to be. Kabal had only met her once in the past, and only in passing. She had seemed a scared little girl who barely had enough muscle to support her own body.

He hadn’t payed her much mind since he had thought she wouldn’t ever train under him. Even when she had manifested the desire to learn swordsmanship, he had not taken her seriously, thinking that it was only the passing whim of a bored noble miss.

The duke had clearly shared his opinion since he strongly suggested, more like subtly ordered, that Kabal did what he could to make her give up this newly acquired interest. He had done exactly that, making her run more laps than her body could withstand. He had thought that she was wasting his time for a caprice when he could focus his energy on the gifted young lord. Sure, she had shown a talent for archery but swordsmanship was different, it needed stamina and a strength of body and character that he had doubted she could display.

But here he was, enjoying the lessons and praising her as his student. It wasn’t something Kabal could have predicted the first time he saw her but he was pleased with this development. Her perseverance and determination had piqued his interest and the progress she had made had convinced him.

She will make a great fighter. The sword is just not the weapon for her.

The sword was a straightforward weapon, more appropriate for someone who relied more on strength than on agility.

While Kabal was lost in his thoughts, Hazel dusted her pants off and stretched her tired joints and muscles.

His gaze fell back on her and he took her arm in his hand, raised it above her head and observed her limb.

“Um…” He let out a pensive noise. He raised the other limber then turned her around. “Um…”

“What is it?” Hazel asked annoyed.

“You said you wanted to learn how to wield a sword but… would you be partial to another weapon?”

Hazel frowned. She got her arms out of his hold, turned around and placed her squinted eyes on him.

Is he trying to get out of teaching me again?

Although he was very amused by her reaction, Kabal reassured her nonetheless.

“I can still teach you how to fight with a sword if you want but I thought another weapon would be more adapted to your abilities.”

“Like what?”

“A shorter weapon, like a dagger, would fit you quite well.” He then put his finger on his chin pensively. “Or… maybe a longer weapon, like a lance… or a staff… Wait for me here.”

He bolted to the shed where Hazel had seen tons of stored weapons, real ones. He came back as quickly as he went away, arms full of various blades. He planted all of them in the ground before holding out a sword for her to try.

“Take this. Tell me how you like it.” Kabal asked.

She closed her grip on the handle of the sword, ready to lift it as easily as she did her wooden weapon. As soon Kabal released his hold on it, the blade went back to the ground, drawing her body with it.

Kabal lifted a questioning and mocking eyebrow.

“I wasn’t ready.” She explained unconvincingly.

“Sure. Go ahead then, you should be ready now, right?”

Placing both hands on the handle, she gathered all of her strength to lift the heavy blade. It moved a bit and with a lot more effort, she managed to raise it at eye level.

“I did it!” She exclaimed despite the struggle.

“You look like you are struggling though.”

“But I did it. You can’t refuse to teach me.”

Kabal sighed. She was still suspecting him of wanting to get out of being her teacher.

“I will teach you, do not no have to worry about that.” He said reassuringly. She seemed unconvinced as her eyes were still slightly squinted but she didn’t protest further. “It is obviously hard for you to lift it this much. You can put it down.”

Hazel hesitated before listening to her pained arm muscles and releasing the heavy blade.

“It is heavy.” She complained. “Did you have to choose such a heavy sword? It is clearly not made for a child.”

“What are you talking about? It is the lighter sword you can find for a child you height.”

“Then why is it so heavy?!”

“Because you are weak” Kabal replied calmly without an ounce of tact.

“Mean.”

“It is not a judgement, I am only stating the facts.”

“Still. It hurts.”

Kabal chuckled at her pouting face. He didn’t mean to offend her in anyway, she was weak but it was normal for someone like her who only started a few months ago. It did not mean she didn’t have other good points.

 “Hold this one.” He gave her another sword, a thinner one with a curved steeled hilt.

Hazel played with the weapon, swinging it front one hand to the other.

“This one is great! Easier to handle.”

“It is a rapier. As you can see the blade is thinner than the traditional sword which make it perfect to stab your opponents and puncture organs. It does not require as much strength but greater precision and technique are needed.”

Hazel tested the rapier, stabbing the air quickly before retreating just as fast. “I always liked watching fencing during the Olympic Games.”

“The what?”

“Nothing. I like it. It is light and elegant. The blade is also beautifully crafted.”

“Good. I knew you would like it.” He grinned. “Place it on your right.”

She tried at least ten other weapons, placing those she didn’t like on the left with the sword and those she liked on the right with the rapier.

Then came the last weapon in his pile. It was two dual swords combined into one powerful double-bladed staff by a medium length black paracord. The blades were thin, extremely sharp and two-toned, silver and black.

The staff was beautiful.

“I choose this one!!” Hazel exclaimed over-enthused.

“Are you sure? It is an intimidating weapon. Quite difficult to handle.”

Hazel looked at the staff. Despite being light, it was twice her height. She felt drawn to it, more so than she had the rapier, the lance, the short-curved blade or even the daggers.

“It’s okay. This is the one that I like the most. It’s perfect.”

 


 

Soon after he gave the first order, Elias heard good news. Uprisings had occurred in the territories of the merchant nobles he had targeted. Since his men had stolen their goods and food, the people of these territories were starving. There had been nothing the nobles could have done since the surrounding territories were also dealing with similar problem and the carriages transporting food had been stolen by Vedar men disguised as mercenaries.

The nobles had attempted to flee their own territory for the capital where they expected to be safer. It was his luck that all of them had coordinated their flight, his men had been able to pluck all of them one by one before they could even leave their land. It had been easier than he could have hope.

The 5 men he had destroyed were now in front of him, on their knees and their head covered by a sack.

“Who are you” One of the Count asked through his sack. “Do you know who I am? If you let me go now I am willing to forget this offense, I could even reward you. If you do not, you will regret it.”

The duke watched them squirm and panic, not knowing where they were, who took them or how to save themselves.

“Do you think you can get away with doing this to the cousin of the Empress. You are making a big mistake.”

The 5 Counts woke up one after the others, demanding to be released, name-dropping their highest connections and, when none of that worked, offering a reward in exchange for their lives. All 5 of them followed the exact same pattern.

Of course, none of them had inquired their captor about the fate of their family. It wouldn’t have mattered anyway, spouses and children had been disposed of earlier, the duke had kept only the Counts as… dessert.

With a gesture, Elias ordered one of his knights to remove the sacks covering their heads.

As soon as they realized who their captor was, the Counts seemed relieved, especially Count Menaget, he spoke first.

“Duke Vedar, I did not know you to use the same methods as brigands.” He mocked, a smirk now firmly planted on his lips. For some reason, he looked more confident now that he had confirmed the identity of the person responsible for their predicament. “This behaviour is quite inappropriate for a noble of your standing.”

The other Counts loudly acquiesced to Menagets words. They seemed wholly unaware or rather indifferent to the danger they were facing. Although their limbs were tied, their tongue, especially Menaget’s, weren’t.

Elias remained silent, seemingly unaffected by the Counts mockery. He simply gestured a silent instruction to one of his men.

The man in question moved, approaching one of the 5 Counts, grabbing him by the neck and dragging him closer to the Duke. Another man handed Elias a sharp sword.

The Count started to sweat profusely. He was starting to understand the situation he was in.

“L-L-Lord Vedar, I-I apologize if I have offended you in any way. I can give you anything you want if you are willing to forgive me just this time. P-P-Please. Let me go, just this time.” The Count changed his strategy and resorted to bargaining. However, the duke remained stoic and silent as ever, almost as though he didn’t hear the Count speak.

“Maeve would not be happy if I dirty any part of the mansion with these vermin’s blood.” He muttered to himself

With one gesture, the hostage was lifted, and a huge basin was placed under him. As indicated by the paleness of their faces, the situation seemed to sink in for all the hostages. They all started to beg for their life, each trying to speak louder than the others or offering something more valuable than the others.

“M-m-my Lord, I have heard the numbers of your troops have declined in the recent years, I have enough gold to help you fund at least 2 armies. You just have to let me live and it is all yours.”

“Y-Your harvest has not been good in the last few years, my lord. I can give you all of my grain. I can even appeal to the Emperor so that he reduces your taxes. Please my lord, accept this offer.”

“I-I can give you my territory, m-my land. Take it all. It is better than your monster infected mountains and the nightmare that is the Tusca desert. If you spare me, you can have my fertile lands and bountiful mines. Think about it. It’s a good deal.”

“I can offer you all that and much more your Excellency. My eldest daughter is beautiful, intelligent and a talented mage, she would be the perfect match for your son. I will give her to you if you spare me.” One shamelessly tried.

“None of you have much gold or grain left. I would know since I am the one who raided your warehouses and safes. You have nothing to that could be of value to me. And you…” He pointed his sword to the last man who spoke. He was kneeling next to the 3 other Counts. “Why would I accept the daughter of a vermin such as yourself as the next duchess of Zahar. Even if she was still alive, your child would be of no use to me. Since you have even less to offer, you should die first. Join your daughter in the Sea of Souls.”

Elias plunged his sword in the Count’s stomach, slowly and painfully impaling him. The hostage’s pained groans turned into screams as the duke repeated the process on other parts of his body. Blood spread on the floor of the basement, staining the previously immaculate room.

“I made a mess.” The duke remarked with a slightly disappointed look. “Have someone ready to clean this up as soon as we are done.” He ordered.

“Understood.” One of his men responded before leaving the room.

He repeated the process on the 3 other nobles who spoke, this time, waiting for the basin to be properly installed under them. Each hostage had had the time to go through the stages of grief as they watched the others’ execution. Finally, there was only one left, Count Menaget. He had stayed strangely silent as his colleagues were killed one after the others.

“I kept the best for last.” Elias said with a satisfied expression. “Do you not have any last word? A message for your family perhaps?”

“It would not matter, you already killed them.”

“As expected of the Emperor’s best trained dog, you are quite quick-witted. We both know that you have nothing to offer for you life, so let us get this over with.”

Elias raised his sword, ready to strike the Count down.

“I do!” The Count interrupted him. “I do have something to offer in exchange for my life.”

The duke stopped his momentum, delighted to keep this little show going for a little while longer, as well as curious.

“I am listening.”

“I-I can give you intel. About the Emperor’s faction. I can help you regain the power the Vedars once had. You can even become the Emperor with my help.”

“You would betray your family?”

“I would betray my own mother if it meant I could live. The Empress is only my cousin, I will not lose sleep over this.”

The duke laughed at his honesty. He had seen that lies would not help him and had opted for absolute honesty. It was a sound strategy; the duke was entertained enough to let him continue.

“There is nothing more important than my life to me. I can give you anything you want if you keep me safe. I can even offer you the Emperor on a silver platter.”

“And how do you plan on doing that?”

“I-I am trusted by the Emperor and the nobles of his faction. I can infiltrate and relay the intel to you.”

“Hm… It could be interesting.”

Count Menaget’s face brightened as the duke manifested his interest. His strategy was working. This fool would let him live and it would be his downfall.

“Given my position, my disappearance would be investigated, and it could lead back to you. It is unwise to kill me. It would be better to make use of me.”

“You are right.” As these words left Elias’ mouth, the smile on Menaget’s face widened.

Convincing him was quite easy. Now let me go and I swear I will pay you back tenfold for this affront.

“Like you said, killing you will have more consequences than the other vermin.” The duke continued. “There will be an investigation. Fortunately for me I already have the perfect alibi. As your partner said earlier, my troops are greatly depleted, in this state, it would be quite unwise of me to provoke the Emperor by killing his cousin in-law. No one would think me stupid enough to attempt such a thing.”

Menaget shivered. “Still, your Grace. You could be suspected.”

“I could be. But it is more likely that you were murdered by bandits on the ways out of your lands. It could even be hungry peasants, furious that their lord decided to leave them to starve instead of helping them. It would not even be an uncommon occurrence, as you know, the Empire in a state of unrest lately.”

“My lord–“

“Keep your saliva for Pradma Hafta, I have no need to a treacherous pawn, willing to betray its own family at the first occasion.”

With this, Count Menaget’s corpse joined the others.

“Undress them, take anything valuable and leave 3 of them next to their respective carriage. The two others should be placed in their mansion after having their estate raided by the rioters. Leave no trace that could be linked back to us.”

“Understood your Grace.”

It has been a great day for Elias, better than he had expected

 


 

“Do you perhaps not have a house?” Haron asked, his eyes fell on Miraella as soon as he entered Hazel’s quarter. “If so, I am sorry to inform you that we are not a hospice. I will make sure someone leads to the nearest orphanage.”

“It is always a pleasure to speak with you Mr Vedar.” The girl replied with a gentle smile. “I do have an appropriate lodging, but I prefer yours. It is much more spacious, and the company is delightful.”

Haron seemed very uncomfortable, his body stiff as a board and his mind torn between his visceral desire to get the hell out of here and his pride telling him that he would not be chased out in his own home.

That Velpassi kid had made full use of the invitation Hazel extended to her. She had started visiting the estate once every 2 weeks, saying that spending time together was essential in building a healthy relationship.

Haron would find her more bearable if she visited less often. But her air magic abilities allowed her to travel much faster than any other type of mage would.

“Be nice you two.” Hazel said dismissively before returning all her intention to her handkerchief.

She was used to their banter. She even found it cute most of the time. It was nice seeing another side of Haron. The animosity he displayed as a response to Mirae’s shameless flirting or presence made him resemble his game counterpart much more than he had before.

Usually their weird child flirting was cute and entertaining, just not today. She was trying to understand where she fucked up and why she couldn’t even properly embroider a triangle when Mirae’s needlework looked like a detailed mural fresco.

“Since when do you do embroidery?” the boy asked.

“Since always.”

“You did not like it a month ago.” He replied skeptical.

“People change. Embroidery is more interesting than I first though. Mirae described it best, it is like painting but with a thread and a needle.”

Haron’s eyes narrowed. He couldn’t believe how many times his sister changed her mind about embroidery in the last 2 years. At first, she lived and breathed needlework; then she gave it up completely, saying that it was the most boring activity ever created by mankind; and now she was interested in it again. He sighed as he sunk into his chair.

Girls are too confusing. They change their mind like voraces change form.

“Why is this so hard?!” Hazel suddenly exclaimed. Despite her renewed interest, her patience was still as thin as before. “I am doing exactly the same thing as you but mine looks like shit.” In the midst of her complaint, she forgot to suppress the urge the swear.

Miraella looked flabbergasted while Haron laughed out loud.

“When Mother hears of this, she will have your mouth washed with soap.”

“How would she know if none of us tells her.” The crimson-eyed girl said sending a meaningful look to the other two.

“Do not look at me like that. I barely speak to Mother; how would I find the opportunity to tell her. You should suspect Sophie, she is the one who reports your daily life to her.”

Hazel turned an accusatory gaze to Sophie who was standing beside her.

“You wouldn’t do that, right Sophie?” the little girl asked, batting her eyelashes in a pleading manner.

“…”

“You would betray me like that?”

“…”

Although she was smiling fondly, Sophie’s silence spoke volume. She served the duchess before she did her daughter. It was Maeve who signed her paycheck so it was understandable.

“Where is Angela? Maybe she should be my personal maid.” Hazel knew she was acting childishly but she was miffed.

“Miss Conegry is currently unavailable.”

“Until when?”

“Until she is done with her training.”

“When will that be?”

“I do not know.” Despite Hazel’s burning gaze, Sophie remained cool as a cucumber. “If your are worried about her, I will make sure to relay your feelings. I am sure she will be touched.”

They both knew she wouldn’t. She wasn’t good at hiding her wariness of Hazel, nor was she good at keeping her opinions to herself, which was why she had to ‘train’, a subtle way to say she was getting punished for spreading rumors about her master.

 


 

Hazel was toying with the broken Queen pawn again. When she played Kodran with Maeve, she often found herself rolling the piece in her hand without remembering when she had picked it up. She did not know why. She did not know why she always chose the side with that broken piece, but it somehow always found its way in her hand.

A year and a half ago, Hazel had played Kodran for the first time against Maeve, that first game had been like a gauntlet thrown in challenge by the woman she was supposed to call ‘mother’. The haughty and condescending look on Maeve’s face had sent a wave of fury through Hazel. And her words had sent more waves than Hazel could count.

After each defeat, Hazel had wanted to throw the brocken Queen out the window and use it as a proxy to vent her anger at the woman in front of her. Instead she had set it back on the board, and had kept playing with it.

Every time she saw the broken Queen, she remembered her desire to humiliate Maeve at her own game. In the few months since their first game, Maeve had observed her and pointed out all her small tells and mannerisms. She would be a fool if she didn’t realize that Hazel had been studying her too.

Thanks to that studying, she could tell Maeve wanted to tell her something before she manifested that intention. That combined with her knowledge of the plot, she could guess what it was about.

“Your betrothal has been confirmed.” The duchess simply said as though they had talked about it beforehand.

“With the crown prince I presume.”

Maeve seemed genuinely surprised that Hazel knew the identity of her knew fiancé. Few people knew about it but Hazel, just like he father had managed to guess it before the announced it.

Could it be that there really is a rumor and I have not heard of it?

“Yes it is the Crown Prince.”

“How did that happen?”

Hazel was genuinely curious. Despite being the daughter of a duke, Hazel Vedar wasn’t really a good match for the Crown Prince. What’s more, the dukedom’s influence was dwindling if the rumors Mirae told her were to be believed. It was weird for the Emperor to agree to such an uneven match.

“The Emperor owes the Vedar a debt.” The duchess said.

Hazel waited for her to elaborated but she kept her mouth closed. Hazel decided to obtain her information through other means, as she had done before.

"And I do not get any say." the girl muttered. "Not with you and not with Father." It wasn’t a question, she simply stated a fact, one she wasn’t happy with.

"No." Maeve agreed.

"That doesn't seem fair."

"Well, the world is not fair."

"That is what people always say when they do not want to bother changing things." Hazel glared up at the woman. Her tongue was still sharp as steel.

"You can argue if you want," Maeve said. "You can argue until your lungs give out. Even if you make a reasonable case, it will not matter.

He fate was sealed, then.

Hopefully, the prince would be different than his game counterpart, like Haron had been.

 

 

 

Hallo!

This update is a bit late, I'm sorry about that. I knew what I wanted to write but I had no idea how to do it. Hopefully chapter 12 comes faster.

This chapter, Miraella is back and we get to see more of her, Hazel and Haron are brats, Elias is a sadistic pebble and Sophie is the employee of the month. Also Kabal being suprisingly helpful.

 

On an unrelated note

I have not changed my mind about running but I guess I can (reluctantly) see it health benefices.

 

On a somewhat unrelated note

I am contemplating suing the church next to my apartment. The bells ring extra early in the morning (like 6am) and sometimes in the middle of the night (like 3am).

It's not even the cute bells that make you want  stop and listen. NO! They are loud and obnoxious and make me want to rip my ears out. Also sometimes they ring for 5 minutes straight because... just because.

The Karen in me wants to call the manager of that Church.

 

On a positive but still unrelated note

I have been making my own kimchi and my own bread lately. I feel like a middle-age woman but I'm okay with it.

 

 

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