*Anna*
Even though the address was just a stone’s throw from the noble district, it led me into an alley that reeked of old urine and decay, puddles reflecting the gray sky and the rotting remains of bloody rats. The nerve—did anyone truly expect a woman of my standing to step into such a place? I hesitated, incredulous, but I didn’t have the luxury of turning back. These people should have been honored by my presence, yet here I was, forced to wade through this filth. Swallowing my disgust, I gathered the immaculate white hem of my dress and tiptoed through the muck, muttering silent curses at elves and their entire ancestral line, each step a reminder of just how far beneath me all of this was.
By the time I reached the door, my dress had survived, but my new shoes bore a few muddy stains I tried to convince myself were only water. I knocked, frustration simmering beneath my skin, already tallying up the small injustices I’d endured. No one answered. I knocked again, and again, the silence stretching until I almost turned away, ready to let my anger carry me back like a storm. Only then did the door creak open.
Rodrick stood behind the door, and for a moment, it looked like he might shut it in my face when he caught the fire in my eyes. My throat tightened, memories of our last encounter prickling at the edges of my mind; the choke marks he had given me had taken weeks to heal.
For a second, both of us said nothing; we just stared at each other until a serene voice reached us, soft as a whisper carried by the wind.
“Let her in.”
Rodrick stepped aside begrudgingly, though not far enough, so I had to slip past him, the space between us uncomfortably close. I remembered the last time he’d shared my bed, when he’d smelled faintly of hair mousse and mint. Now, the scent of alcohol and sweat clung to him, heavy and sour. His face, once smooth, was lost beneath a wild beard, and his hair had grown long and brittle, more straw than silk. The sharpness in his eyes had faded, replaced by shadows and exhaustion.
If I hadn't seen him before in slightly better shape back in the dungeon, I might not have recognized him at all. He seemed like a ghost of the valiant knight I once knew.
Stepping inside was like crossing into another world. The alley’s filth was replaced by polished cherry wood floors that glowed softly beneath my feet, expensive furniture arranged with careful taste, and magical lamps casting a gentle light over the empty lobby. For a moment, I almost felt at ease, as if I belonged here. Only when we climbed the stairs did distant voices drift through a closed door, pulling me back to reality.
“Did you really have to bring this thing?”
“Oh come on, isn't he cute? Besides, we don't have many options.”
Rodrick opened the door and slipped inside, heading straight for the window. He stood there, staring out as if searching for something he’d lost. The others barely glanced at him, too wrapped up in their own argument to notice our arrival.
“But do we really have to use this one? I mean, look at it, its ears are barely half the length.”
“You just say that because he isn't yours.”
The other people were, of course, Kethril and Miriael, as well as a nervous young…boy? Elf? He was Kethril's height despite looking barely fifteen, with the same blond hair and green eyes, but his ears were noticeably smaller. It seems the couple was rather promiscuous and less harmonious than I thought. Considering how similar Kethril looked to the boy, it was clear Miriael had picked her lover on purpose.
“I'm saying this because I thought you to be above bestiality.”
“As if you never sleep with any of them.”
“But I don't impregnate any.”
While his mother and stepfather argued, the boy lingered at the edge of the room, shifting his weight from foot to foot. He seemed caught between wanting to earn his stepfather’s approval and sneaking uncertain glances in my direction, his cheeks tinged with embarrassment as his gaze lingered on my chest.
“Do I have to remind you that you are the reason we have to use proxies? If we were allowed to act openly, this would be resolved in less than a week. But no, Mister Perfect has to stand in the open, taking pot shots at…”
“Ahem!”
Finally, the couple noticed me, and their demeanors shifted. Rodrick still stared absentmindedly out the window.
“As much as I would like to see this soap opera unfold, I still have other things to do today, so why did you call me?”
Kethril seemed a bit annoyed to be interrupted, while Miriael sent me a thankful wink.
“Sigh, we have called for you to discuss that 'Ruby' person.”
Even here, she haunted me, a pathetic shadow clinging to my brilliance. Back in Roots and Rosedorn, her name was spat from every mouth, as if she’d bewitched the entire town into idolizing her. How tiresome. Would it be the same here in the capital? Surely not—the standards here are far higher, and I refused to let someone so painfully ordinary steal what was rightfully mine. She’d be put in her place, and soon. I would take pleasure in watching her fall from grace, her perfect face battered and bloody.
“Oh, her, what about her?”
Miriael explained a bit exasperated,
“Like who she is, where she came from, what her goals are, what her current relationship with House Yuwen is, etc.”
“All I know is that she parades herself as a 'healer'—how quaint—and a runaway Ibasan slave. No one knows where she’s from, and yet everyone either trusts her immediately or pretends it will all be fine. As for her goals, I doubt she’s capable of ambition worthy of the capital. That albino freak is just a common guttersnipe clawing her way upward, willing to debase herself at every opportunity, even if it means worming her way into the Yuwen family.”
“Into the Yuwen family?” Kethril asked, intrigued, “What do you mean?”
“Exactly that. The little upstart actually managed to seduce the oldest brat, married him, and has already whelped two albino pups.”
The second I mentioned that bitch's grotesque brood and her joke of a wedding with that wannabe successor, Kethril, and Miriael's faces fell as if all the hundreds of years they had been alive just now caught up to them.