Sorry for the SUPER late update. So many distractions and I seem need to fix the said distraction. Anyways, thanks for the previous previews...was that a pun..? O w O'' And none of my friends seems to know I'm writing a fic..'Cause they didn't asked...I'm evil~ Nyahahaha~~ 8D

I hope you enjoy this~

-kAtWiN-


Mid-Childa, 1856

Fate Testarossa crossed the massive dark oak-beamed entry of Fulmine Castle, her tall knee-high black riding boots ringing on the wide-planked wooden floor. As she strode past the main drawing room, so impressive with its high, Tudor-style ceilings and heavy beams, she tried to ignore the Persian carpets, the way the bright reds and vivid blues she recalled from her youth had faded to shadowy, lackluster hues.

As she climbed the wide, carved mahogany staircase, she tried not to notice the feel of the wooden banister beneath her hand, once polished to a rich patina but now dull from years of neglect.

She had been home for less than two weeks, returned to Mid-Childa from her family's plantation, where she had been living for the past six years. Her mother had fallen ill and the family solicitor, Mr. David Jefferson, had sent for her,

The Duchess of Fulmine Castle is dying, the letter had said. In all haste, my lord, please come home before it is too late.

She was home at last, grateful to have this brief time with her mother, but the house was dreary and in need of repairs, and she unused to being cooped up inside. At dawn, after checking on her mother's condition , she had headed for the stables. She hadn't ridden Fulmine lands in the past six years and she looked forward to becoming reuniting with her home.

Though the winter wind was chill, the sky gray and cloudy, Fate enjoyed the ride immensely, surprising herself a bit. Yet this morning, with the brisk wind in her face and the open fields stretching as far as she could see, she realized how much she had missed Mid-Childa.

It was late morning when she returned to the house, swinging down from the big golden stallion that had been a gift on her twentieth birthday, a nearly-brown, golden horse with a diamond-shaped on his forehead, a colt he had named Bardiche that now stood seventeen hands high. She had handed the reins to a waiting groom.

"See he gets some fresh oats, will you?"

"Yes, my lord."

Feeling only a little guilty for leaving with her mother so ill, Fate hurried into the house and climbed the stairs to the second floor. Striding down the hall, she paused for a moment to collect herself after the ride.

A strip of light seeped from beneath the heavy wooden panel, indicating a lamp burned inside. Fate turned to the silver handle, opened the door and strode into the massive, dimly lit chamber. Across the room, her mother lay beneath the covers of a huge four-poster bed encased in heavy gold velvet hangings, the shell of the woman she had once been.

The duchess' valet and most trusted servant, Andrew Simons, hurried forward on long, spindly legs, his shoulders stooped from years of service and now resignation.

"It is good you are back, my lord."

"How is she, Simons?" Fate pulled the tie on her long black woolen cloak and allowed the valet to sweep it from her shoulders.

"I'm afraid, my lord, each day she grows weaker. Waiting for you to arrive is all that keeps her going."

Fate glanced toward the velvet curtains and saw her sister Alicia sitting in the shadows next to their mother's bedside. Alicia rose and started forward. Tall with the lean build of an athlete, Alicia looked like her sister, but a one-year age gap. Like Fate, who had a blonde hair and dark burgundy eyes, tall and lean-muscled from the works in the plantation, skin white and has a calm and serious aura.

"She's been asking for you," Alicia moved into the flickering light of the lamp on a nearby rosewood dresser, the dangling prisms throwing off a rainbow of colors.

"She's been rambling a bit. She says there is a promise you must make. And she cannot die in peace unless you vow to see it done."

Fate nodded, more curious than concerned. Both of them sisters loved their mother. And both of them had abandoned her years ago to follow their own selfish dreams. They owed the Duchess of Fulmine. Her daughters would do whatever she asked of them.

Following in Simon's wake, her sister strode past Fate out the door and closed it softly behind her, leaving her alone in the gloomy, airless room. Her mother had suffered three separate strokes, the first three years ago, and each we're worst than the last. Fate should have come back to Mid-Childa after the first, but her mother's letters assured her of her recovery, and Fate had wanted to believe it.

She looked down at the frail old woman on the bed, once a lady of unbelievable power and pride. It was sheer force of will, Fate believed, that had kept her mother alive this long.

"Fate…?"

She moved to the bed, settled herself in the chair her older sister had vacated.

"I'm right here, Mother." She reached out and clasped the duchess' thin, cold hand. Though it was warm in the bedroom, she made a mental note to stoke up in the flames in the hearth.

"I am sorry…my daughter," the duchess said in a raspy voice, "for the poor state… I left you. I have failed you… and your… sister."

"It's alright, Mother. Once you are back on your feet—"

"Do not talk….nonsense." She took a few wheezing breaths, her mouth drooping slightly, and Fate fell silent.

"I've lost it all. I am not… not even sure exactly how it happened. Somehow it just… slipped away."

Fate didn't have to ask what her mother meant. The furniture missing from the drawing rooms, the bare spots on the walls where exquisite gilt-framed paintings once had hung, the general dilapidated condition of what had once been one of the grandest house in Mid-Childa told the story.

"In time, our fortune can be rebuilt," Fate said. "The Fulmine Castle will be as mighty as it ever was."

"Yes… I am certain it will be." She coughed, dragged in a shaky breath. "I know I can… count on you, Fate… you and your sister. But it will not be easy."

"I will, Mother, I promise you."

"And so you… shall. And I am going to help you… even after I am dead and buried."

Fate's chest squeezed. She knew her mother was going to die. It was only a matter of time. Still, it was difficult to accept that a lady as strong and agile as the duchess would actually be gone.

"Did you hear what I said… Fate?"

She had, but only dimly "Yes, Mother, but I still don't understand what you mean."

"There's a… way. The simplest… of ways. Marriage to the right woman will give you… the money you need." Her frail hold tightened on Fate's hand. "I have found her. The perfect… woman."

Fate straightened in her chair, "Why a woman, Mother?" She asked curious why her dying mother would want her to marry a woman.

"Do you want men… who only think for their position and power? It's rarely to have a man with proper minds who… willingly accept that some women are more powerful than they are. Where you will gain the title of Duke when will pass away?" Her mother said csiply.

"…No,Mother." Was her only reply, certain her mother must have returned to her former rambling.

"She is beautiful…" the duchess continued. "An exquisite creature… worthy of becoming your lady." The old woman's strength seemed to grow with every word, and for a moment, the dull glaze over her eyes lifted, turning them the fierce lilac color of her youth "She is an heiress,… inherited a fortune from her grandfather."

"You should rest. I can come back—"

"Listen to me. I have already spoken to her…mothers, a woman named Yagami Signum. Yagami dotes on her. She is determined… to give her a title. The arrangements have already… been made." She wheezed in breath, coughed, but her hold on Fate's hand never weakened. "After a suitable period of mourning. You will marry Yagami Hayate. With her fortune… and your resolve… you can rebuild the house and return our lands to their former beauty."

The duchess' grip grew fierce. Fate was amazed she had that much strength. And she realized her mother wasn't rambling. Indeed, she knew exactly what he was saying. "Promise me you will do it. Say you will marry the girl."

Fate's heart was thumping oddly. He owed her mother, yet deep inside, some part of her wanted to refuse, to rebel against a life that had been dictated for her. Though she had been trained to assume duties of a duke, she hadn't expected to face those duties so soon.

Her mind rushed backward. She had taken over the running of the family plantation. The vast acreage had been hours of backbreaking labor, she had created a domain she could be proud of, made the plantation the success it was today.

She had known one day she would be called back home. She had known she would face responsibility beyond anything she had handled in the past.

But she hadn't expected her mother to die so soon.

Or to inherit a title and lands that had been stripped completely bare.

Her mother's grip loosened, her energy drained. The corner of her mouth drooped as it had before. "Promise me…"

Fate swallowed. Her mother was dying. How could she refuse her dying wish?

"Please…" the duchess whispered.

"I will marry her, Mother, as you wish. You have my word."

The duchess made a faint nod of her head. A slow breath whispered out and her eyes slowly closed. For an instant, Fate feared she was dead. Then her chest weakly inflated, and Fate felt a sweep of relief. Releasing her mother's cold hands, she slipped it beneath the covers and eased away from the bed. She paused long enough to build up the fire, and then left the suite.

The burial of the Duchess of Fulmine took place on a windy, overcast, cold morning in January. A number of family members were in attendance, including the duchess' aging sister, Lindy Harlaown, Countess of Asura, as well as numerous aunts and cousins, some Fate hadbt known existed.

Fate stared down at the gleaming bronze casket that held her mother's remains and a thick lump swelled in her throat. She gazed down at the coffin, which blurred for an instant behind the forming tears waiting at bay.

The priest's words cut into Fate's thought's turning them away from events of a past few weeks and returning her to the words being said over her mother's coffin.

A sharp wind tossed her long blonde hair tied in a black ribbon at the end and cut through her heavy black tailcoat and trousers as she stood at the graveside.

Alicia had survived to become the most reckless of them two. She had a reputation as an incorrigible rake and she wore it proudly. She loved the ladies and seemed to make it a personal challenge to bed as many beautiful women as she possibly could.

Fate almost smiled. Her own future had already been decided. She would marry a woman named Yagami Hayate. A woman she had yet to meet. She was out of the country at present, enjoying a Mid-Childan tour with her mother. Fate was glad.

The period of mourning for her mother would last a year. There would be time enough to arrange a marriage after that.

In the meantime, she would learn what she could of her duties as duke, investigate her holdings, see how best to resurrect her mother's failing investments and try to make them profitable again.

Fate vowed that by the time she was wed, she would know how to best use the money gained from the marriage her mother had arranged.


A/N: While writing this I want you people to think of Fate as a manly scour-/shot...Hehe Kidding~

But I like the OCCness, I read some fics as Fate being the shy type~ I'm not against them, and I like it too~

I hope I can update soon again and fix "those" distractions~

Tsuzuku~