You stare out the window, ruminating over baby names until a slight shuffling sound catches your attention. Manat had the foresight to remove most of his clothes, so your husband awakens from his stupor, looking exhausted, but with a smile on his face.

"You're up early," he says as he slowly drags himself from the bed, putting on a robe.

"Just... thinking," you tell him. Estaban doesn't speak of the demon, it's almost as if his mind has been influenced. Does he think he did this? Was the night being gone from his memory part of the pact?

He hobbles towards you and places a hand on your shoulder, and you can't help but to feel startled at how cold he is. He gestures to the amazing view, still sparkling with the motes of light that was once a demon. "It's our duty to protect all of this," he whispers, solemn. "I know this situation hasn't been... great for you, but it's a sacrifice I'm glad that you've made. It's up to us to protect the little people."

He lets out a sigh, and it's as if he ages a decade in the moment. "I can only pray that you do the same in my stead."

With a hand on your belly, you reach over and plant a kiss upon his cheek. With what your child is, there's little chance of that happening. You won't break his promise, but at least he can die happy.

He wraps his arm around you as the pair of you watch the sunrise. A new dawn rising, both over the country, and your life.


He calls it 'the web', and the more you learn of the goings on of the duchy you learn of the sheer scale of the task ahead of you. As supreme ruler of the province, Estaban has to spend his days managing taxation, cutting deals with merchants, expanding trade routes, residing over some of the more stringent court cases and even having to allocate the budget to certain projects for the city of Klettgau and the surrounding towns in his province of Hesse. It's all built on appeasement, ensuring that every party is just happy enough to be loyal. Especially the retinue of knights he keeps, the gloryseeking Knights Voratum.

Your husband is a kind ruler, never cruel in his dealings, but firm when required. Yet the sheer number of tasks is mind boggling. The second day you offered to help him resulted in an eighteen hour working day. Your light magic was a great boon, your mana reserves substituting for stamina, but your husband couldn't say the same. but there was simple solution.

You held hands, providing a buzz of light magic throughout the day. There's nothing to heal within him, the rot of the dragon destroying nerve endings and turning arteries black and hard. Regular healing did nothing, but it soothed his aches and kept him going even in the toughest of times.

And so for months, the two of you were inseparable, your power fuelling him while you worked your hardest to learn the ins and outs of your new role. And boy, did the people love it. Rumours flew among the common folk and the nobility about the Duke's new wife, and how they're utterly inseparable. It's embarrassing, and the long work schedule leaves you little time to socialize, but it's a strangely calming couple of months.


After a few months, you learned the worst part of being pregnant. It wasn't the incessant cravings, nor was it the weight. Rather, it was the slow destruction of your figure that you had worked so tirelessly to obtain. The physical side of things wasn't really an issue, though you do admit that at a few points you spent your time hovering slightly off of the ground using your flight magic in lieu of walking out of laziness.

Even as he grew weaker, Estaban grew yet more affectionate. As his white hair turned an ashen grey, he still tried his hardest to do his work for the duchy. As his sickness progressed as with your pregnancy, your father began to send some familiar advisers over, giving the two of you some much needed rest.

The months flew by, and after what seemed like no time at all, you felt it. While your personal maid Vivian brushed your hair, you felt it.

Contractions.


The Doctors rush into your joint bedroom. They offer all sorts of painkillers, but you merely wave them away. With your powerful regeneration, it doesn't hurt nearly as much as you think. Rather, while many think your red cheeks are like that due to exertion, you're flushed for another reason entirely.

That invisible brand tingles as you push your child out into this world, and while you scream, it's mainly out of pleasure. But nobody has to know that~.

It's almost disappointing when it ends, but the wailing of the baby puts your mind at ease. The doctor hands you your bundle of joy, wrapped in a towel while you get to healing your body back into relative shape.

She looks... human. For all her wailing and all the fear, your lovely, precious daughter looks completely human. Sure, she's a little pale, but nothing some sunlight can fix. Just looking at her makes your heart swell, giddiness rising as you hold and caress your most precious little thing Your husband joins soon after, holding you close as you both take a good look at your child. Strong, maternal urges wash over you as you bring your baby to a leaking breast, the crying finally stopped as she begins to suckle. Her eyes open slightly, and for a moment you think you see a familiar glimpse of red, only for it to turn back to the pale blue eyes that your lover has.

"She's beautiful," he says, and you can't help but to nod and agree.

The two of you lean against one another, cuddling close as you nurse your child together. The stormy weather outside is an ill fit to the monuments day, but it's probably for the best. If not for the storm clouds, people may have been alarmed at the red moon rising for a single night.


Hope Manat Blumenthal-Hesse - Heir to the Duchy of Hesse, the Dark Star incarnated, Future Demon Lord.

It's a bit of a mouthful, but you mange it well enough. Over the next few days, dozens of people appear. Friends and family, all head over heels to see the new baby. Your parents are overjoyed, constantly spoiling your little one and making so many baby noises you worry that their minds have gone.

The Maids make sure you're well kept after, looking after the child through the night and through the day while you assist your husband with his duties, though you always take frequent breaks to spend time with your lovely daughter. It's almost like an obsession, she's just so cute that you want to spend every moment with her!

And... you feel what your mother talked about. Despite this child being born from a deal, you find yourself loving your precious little one, and Estaban does too. Whenever he's with her, the illness seems to fade away entirely, and he almost seems as healthy as he was when you first met him.

That wonderful family life continues for another year. Your baby can do little more than drink, cry and poop, but you love her all the same.

The odd part was what you could do after she was born. It felt as if your connection to darkness had grown even stronger, and you found yourself pulling deep reserves of mana from... something. Cold, dark, primeval. The void which has existed since the dawn of creation itself. You drain mana from it constantly, to no ill effect, and it energizes you. With your regeneration healing away any aches or fatigue, you're a machine, constantly filled with energy as you did what you could.

You got back into shape with your exercises, catching the eye of your husband one day. During the evening, he approached you with an offer that made your eyes light up. If you were going to train, you should have some new equipment, and that could only mean one thing.

Shopping


The sunlight is harsh on your husband, but your constant soothing light magic helps him move through the busy streets of the city. It's lovely and prosperous, but the best part is the looks of awe the three of you get.

There's one place you need to go, before anywhere else. You spoke to the butler and got a recommendation for an artist. It took a while, but the three of you together in an artist's workshop. The man's large, frizzy hair is strange, but his reputation is known far and wide. He's overjoyed at the chance to paint the three of you, working with almost supernatural speed until the portrait is all done.

No, it IS supernatural, your keen eye tells you. Some sort of Talent or Magic is helping him turn what he sees into reality using the brush as a medium. He's been quite flattering to all of you, your husband looking as healthy as he did years ago, while you almost glow with sheer radiance. The only issue you have is that your daughter's a little too much in the shadow, but it's not much as an issue. You'll have a little bit of proof for this family, even after it's gone.

A payment is agreed for the portrait, as well as some smaller ones to go into a necklace, and with that, you move onto the next store.

You pick up a glowing tome of Magic, seeking to improve your skills with Wind magic, only for the merchant to quote an outrageous price. Thankfully you haggle him down to something sane and you can't help but to be thankful for your social skills.

The last, and most expensive stop is the Blacksmith.

Dwarves rarely reside on the surface, but their skills in craftsmanship are rarely outmatched. The bearded fellow greets your husband like an old friend and the pair of them chat for a bit before your husband finally announces why he's here.

You've got the sword skills to match any knight. It's about time you dressed like one too.


The spoils of your shopping spree come in over the next few weeks. The large portrait hangs in the main hall, and you couldn't be happier with how wonderful it looks. Estaban even surprised both you and Hope with a gift of his own, a tiny version of the family portrait contained with a necklace.

A memento, for after he's gone. More than anything else, you're glad that she'll have a face to call father, even if she's technically got two and half dads.

Your armour comes in next, the potent enchantment the perfect companion. While you adore feeding your daughter, changing into armour is a hassle. Your plate, blessed by The Call, fits into a metal wristband. Just thinking about it covers your body with a steel shell, ensuring that no matter what, you'll always be ready to defend your family.

Then there's the wind tome. Lost within is the powerful spell of Windwall - an upgrade to your Tempest Wall. While you can only cast it in a short area and it remains stationary, it deflects and neutralizes all but the most powerful projectiles. Rather than it being a constant drain, it's to be used in the throes of combat to protect the vulnerable or stop a particularly deadly attack.

And finally, there is your blade.

Thorn, an enchanted sword made by one of the finest dwarvern blacksmiths alive. Forged of orichalcum mined from the boundary between this world and the abyss, your blade is nigh indestructible. It's soaked in dragon blood, the wicket blade crippling those it touches beyond the reach of most magic. And finally, the vines. The moving flowers and vines shift across the cross guard, wrapping around your arm to prevent you from being disarmed, with the ability to move, capture and even crack lesser blades who carelessly get caught in the bramble that is your crossguard.

The news is more significant that you think. An exceptional woman gaining a named sword and a special suit of armour isn't just routine, it's the start of a story. The beginning of a Legend.

Well, legends can be bad too, right?


Your husband's health continues to fail, even as your daughter reaches her first year of age. But you found something you could do with your Light magic. By burning it into a canvas, you could create an image of what you saw in front of you. The colours are a bit overly vivid, but it's close enough to reality that you can't help but to abuse it by getting prints of every milestone as Hope grows up

You watched as Hope walked her first steps to the applause of you and your husband, and listened to her her first words, "Mama," followed shortly by "Papa." They still ring in your ears from time to time. Even as your husband's demise draws near, you can't help but to feel melancholic. The two of you might not have been... overly attracted to one another, but your husband is a good man.

You lie awake, thinking about the end. His life is near its end. You can feel the rot, the dark flesh showing underneath his pale skin in places. He's on his last legs, but refuses to lay down and die. Even now, he works into the night with a devotion that inspired you. He can't walk without assistance, your light magic doing little with how advanced the sickness is.


Childcare is hard, but you space it out with months of hard work, abusing a nice loophole. Your mana reserves are deep, and your regeneration gave you stamina as long as you had the mana to supply it. You use your Dark magic on yourself to twist your own mind, allowing you to train harder than you previously could. When normally the pain would incapacitate someone, you could just heal through it without incident.

And as such, you subject yourself to the most brutal training scheme imaginable. Some of the household knights try to emulate it, try to keep up, but they can't even survive the thousand pushups after the 10 mile sprint. That was just your warmup, after all.

With your hard work, you found your body not just in the same shape you were before the pregnancy, but even better. Your very flesh itself seems to be imbued with mana, taking your physical status to heights few could reach.


Every day begins to be filled with dread as you wonder if your husband will wake up in the morning. By the time Hope is one and a half years old, the stubborn bastard has outlived the bargain he made through Manat. Part of you wonders if it was the demon giving him some extra leeway, or if he's just so stubborn that death is hesitant to come and collect.

As you stare at the ceiling, you think about what kind of final gesture he'd appreciate, as he's been too ill for anything physical for quite a while. Fuck a cute boy in front of him, so he can watch him squirm? Set up a business trip with the Emperor and Father? Maybe something along those lines.

You just can't find it in you to fall asleep, so you instead you go stretch your legs in your night gown. You head over to the windowsill, staring out at the full moon. The grounds look lovely in spring, especially in the pale moonlight.

You watch the guards do their duties, the maids rushing around after dark, the carriages in the distance carrying goods. Nothing is ever truly... still.

Then, you see it.

It's in the corner of your eye at first, but it is an undeniable act. A figure, cloaked in black along the castle walls. It sneaks behind a guard, and with one unnaturally swift motion, the guard crumples to the floor. The being takes off into a sprint, and your heart drops. She's heading for the living quarters, you realize.

She's heading for your baby.


You stop only to force open the chest at the end of your bed, grabbing Thorn and activating your armour. Your nightgown is torn to shreds, but you've got far more pressing issues to worry about right now. Thorn's sheath lies in the chest, gathering dust.

You're not going to need it tonight.

You leap from the window, using your flight to survey things from the air. There's a trail of broken guards, but you can't see the intruder. Your hand shakes with fury as you consider your options.


You've never had fury powering a cast before. It was normally curiosity or arousal, but this time there's a burning desire for blood that has your heart boiling. You draw deep into the tempest of magic inside your soul and grasp the light tight. Your hand rests over your chest, the first motes of light starting to gather.

With the spell started, you raise your hand above your head and push, forcing the spell full of mana. Less is needed than you think, and the blazing orb in your palm grows until it swells to the size of your own being.

For a brief moment, it's brighter than a summer's day.

And inside the castle, next to a window, you spot that shadowy figure that was trying her best to hide from you, rubbing her eyes. Your teeth pull up in a vicious smile, a strange hint of sadism you didn't know you had starting to push through the surface.

"Found you~" you whisper to nobody, before taking off.

You use your wind magic to fly to the intruder's location, hand held in front as your magic forces away the air resistance, the wind at your back. No heed is paid to the castle as you crash through the window, the horrific sound of metal boots scraping against stone flooring as you skid to a halt. The intruder jumps back, her black cloak covering enough of her body to obscure her features from your gaze.

"Valkyrie..." the woman in black murmurs. Your hand grips thorn as you take a step forward. "You know not what you do!" the woman yells in a strange accent, stepping back to avoid a fight. You catch a glimpse of her brown skin and you finally place the exotic accent - she's from the kingdom of Al'kehir to the north. "My Madame's visions are never wrong. The blood moon rose, a cursed childe born from the Dragon's Curse. I know it must pain you, but a being of purest evil lives here, it must be destroyed!"


There s a Madame. From the sound of what this assassin is saying, it sounds like a Seer. They see the world... strangely, those seers. All talk of prophecies and divining meaning from symbolism. Almost like Manat, in a way. They're common up north, with some of the most respected ones being able to sense natural disasters and the rise of powerful monsters.

Which must be why the assassin is here.

A lackey for an old crone who's seen more than she should. Thankfully she can only get vague hints that she must decipher - if their magic was strong enough to watch your every step, you might be in trouble, but such magic is the realm of the gods.

She must be captured - to reveal the location of her Mistress, if nothing else.

You stomp forward, stone cracking beneath your feet as the slender assassin leaps back, crouching low like a cat.

"You will not harm my daughter."

Your hand grips your blade, and you notice the glint of steel in the shadows. On instinct, you cast your Wind Wall, smirking as the three daggers aimed for your stomach fall helplessly to the ground. She had her chance to sneak attack you, she shall not do so again.

"Please," The assassin begs. "The hooks of the beast are already within you, but you're a scion of the Light! You must fight it, Valkyrie!"


You narrow your eyes at the assassin. "Don't be absurd," you mutter, glaring at her with unbound fury. "What kind of mother would allow an assassin near her child?"

She opens her mouth to speak again, but you're already moving. A leap and flying aren't too dissimilar, the main difference being that your flight is guided by wind. So with all your strength, you dive towards the assassin, kicking up stone as you do so. You use the wind to push away the air resistance once again as you barrel towards her.

The assassin is fast, yes, but you've trained your entire life. Your body is a temple, and you're a master of wind magic.

Closing the distance is pitifully easy.

To her, you must be as a blur, the sudden movement catching her completely off guard. She attempts to dodge out of the way, but even with her unnatural speed, you're simply too quick for her. You thrust Thorn forwards, and while she twists herself, your sword still pierces through cloak and skin, cutting just to the right of her belly. and tearing it open.

You force yourself to a stop with Wind, and flick your blade, crimson blood twinkling in the air as you do so.

The Assassin, to her credit, doesn't let out a word, merely grunting in pain. She reaches into her torn cloak for a bottle and pours it over her wound, only to pale as the liquid does nothing.

Regular potions won't be enough for Thorn, after all.

You swallow the urge to lick your blade and smirk at the wounded assassin. With an injury like that, she'll be gone before too long.


The training was a perfect stress test. A human's body has limits, limits to prevent it hurting itself. But if you were to control your own mind, you could do almost anything. And so you stuff your mind with the hooks and controls you've prepared, throwing away the inhibitions and limiters that keep your body safe for itself. You bend your knee, gazing intently at the wounded assassin while you start to heal yourself. The damage done by your own muscle movements would be crippling, if not for the constant supply of powerful healing. And so you stand, wreathed in holy white light, the very aura flowing around your body, a smoky white light that fades as it gets further away from its core.

A bastion of light, yet behind it all, it's fuelled by the Dark. This technique, it is you , your very essence distilled into a singular technique. With it, you've broken away from the limits of humanity.

And no matter how dextrous this assassin thinks she is, you are simply better.

Streaks of white light are left behind as you close the distance in an instant, an insane look of rapture on your face as you reach out with your hand. The assassin recoils, trying to dodge away, but as your gauntlet finds purchase, you can only think that she's just too slow. Everyone is, when you're like this.

You're powered by the love you hold for your daughter, and nothing will get through that.

She lets out a cry of pain as the gauntlet around her leg tightens, bone cracking, shattering, being ground to dust. Her hands reach into her cloak, and you almost hiss. "None of that," you murmur. She's in your grasp, and so with all your might you swing her entire body, using it as a blunt object to impact the castle walls.

There's a sickening crack, and her struggles cease. She's bleeding from everywhere, nose broken and skull fractured, but your dark magic can taste the life within them.

You start pouring in your Light magic into her body. She'll live, now that she's unconscious you can heal the wounds inflicted by Thorn. You hear the sounds of the guards and knights starting to muster, and by the time you've stabilized the assassin they're fast approaching.


You're certain this assassin won't bleed out, and while you want to take her to the dungeon right away, there's a far more pressing matter at hand. Your darling, lovely baby Hope.

You decide to make the most of your Dawnbringer while it lasts, and snap the unconscious girl's joints backwards, her mangled arms and legs flopping down uselessly as you finish. Hero or not, there's not a lot you can do when your limbs are bending the wrong way.

You grab her ankle and drag the assassin behind you as you walk through the castle. The carnage was relatively contained, and you don't think you've seen any innocent bystanders hurt. So, still shinning like a beacon in the light, you creep over to your child's room. Gently, you open the door, only to be met with an adorable giggle that makes your heart melt. She's up! The maids keeping watch jump at the scene, but for some reason they're too intimidated to say a word. Not that you would know why.

Dropping the leg, you undo the armour around your hands and bring raise your baby into the air, heart practically melting as she lets out her adorable laugh once again. "Mama!"

"Yes, yes..." you coo, planting a kiss on your daughter's forehead. She nuzzles against you, tongue lapping up some of the blood that was on your face, eliciting an adorable giggle. "Mama was just doing a little bit of pest control." You can't help but to feel relief. She's safe. There's no second assassin; they would have surely struck by now. You gently lower Hope into her crib, and while her sadness breaks your heart, there's a good reason for it.

"Mama just has to tidy up a little, then we'll play, alright?"

Your baby crosses her arms, but since Hope's such a good girl she doesn't cry. "Bye bye, Mama," she says, a little sadly, as you grab your Assassin's leg once more and drag her from your daughter's room. As you leave you can hear the maids sigh in relief. For a moment, you consider if the bright aura your Dawnbringer exudes is too intimidating, but you reason that it's probably just the fact that it really highlights just how much blood you have on you.

A note for later.

Not wanting her to have any chance to escape, you keep it active as you drag the assassin away beneath the castle, into the dark dungeon that lies beneath. There are beds and a barred window, and you consider destroying what's in the cell. It's too good for scum like her.

The guards salute as you walk by, but wisely don't say anything as you shove the assassin into a locked cell.

There's a raspy cough from the figure, and it seems like she's awoken. "Please..." the assassin splutters, so quiet you can barely hear it. "The... hooks in your mind... Fight... it..."

Ah, this again.

With the Assassin safely taken care of, you deactivate your aura, slowly removing the framework of Dark Magical Mental Hooks you placed upon yourself to fight in your form.

Only there's one problem.

Once you've removed them all, there are still two left in your mind that you didn't put there.


The mind isn't easy to understand, or to change, but it's YOUR mind. You've experiment on yourself with Dark magic enough times to have an idea of what your brain should be like.

You shoo the guards away, relaxing against the back wall as you delve into your mind. You focus on your feelings, and slowly try dragging out the hooks. As you touch the first, you snarl in anger, fist curling into a ball, the tension rising until you pull it free and suddenly a whole lot of your indignant fury you held towards the assassin has vanished.

And as you pull the other one, you can only think about your wonderful daughter, protecting her no matter what. doing whatever it takes to protect her from the world. And as you're about halfway through taking them out, you stop.


Aww Your baby is doing so well! Not even two and she's already really good at influencing minds. This must have been done while you were asleep, judging from the burning rage you felt when you first caught wind of your intruder.

Was that what Hope did? Did she somehow know you were in danger, and do her best to get you to help? What a wonderful, resourceful girl!

You study the shape of the mental hook, marvelling at its shape. The hook is roughly made, but still competent. It laches onto any thoughts of your adorable, lovely, perfect daughter and intensifies them, amplifying your love to the point of obsession.

It's a useful example, and you stash the shape of it away for later.

Wincing slightly, you dispel the hook within your mind. You don't need it anyway.

Hope is your daughter, and your love is your own. She fills every crevice of your heart; for when you saw your darling daughter you learned of what true, unconditional love was.

You may regret many things, in the days to come. You will not regret your daughter. Not if all the world burns at her feet, or if she drives a dagger into your own heart.

A laugh escapes your lips as you assure yourself those feelings are true, free from any influence.

Anastasia loves Hope.

Now, to deal with this little assassin. The guards have left, leaving the pair of you alone in the cells. She's crippled beyond measure, unable to move for at least a couple of hours. It's still the dead of night. Perhaps you should take this time to get busy...


You step into the cell, humming to yourself all the while. Hope could tell an assassin was coming after her, and if she can hear you, then the singing is for her sake. The Assassin looks at you strangely, only for her pupils to shrink in terror as she notices that your shadow is smiling.

"Black magic..."

It's a change of pace from earlier as you sit on the bed, pulling the limp assassin up next to you. The armour vanishes back into your bracelet, leaving you naked and with a flick of the wrist your wind magic takes care of her clothes. She's quite cute, in an exotic way. Her breasts are only budding, but she's in great shape, with wide hips and a face that's pretty under the blood. You lay her onto your lap, finger toying with her hair as she quivers in fear. Her tanned skin contrasts nicely with her sand-coloured hair, which is silky smooth against your thighs. Such a waste.

"I haven't yet used this spell on an enemy combatant, I must admit. In that regard, congratulations!" You gently stroke her hair, revelling at the tinge of fear you feel in her heart. There's something exhilarating about this, the vulnerability of the toy beneath your fingers, so weak and defenceless. It's then you realize just why so many Dark magic users got caught. When everyone who crosses you is prey in your eyes, the urge to indulge is always there. You've not indulged this deep in a while.

"Now," you say, grinning wide. "you're going to be a wonderful testbed as I break you down." Your hand caresses her breast, and your voice turns into a whisper. "Piece by piece-"

Unable to move, she can only whimper in terror as your fingers caress the side of her head, and your hooks go in deep.

Ah~ That look, the instant of terror, where their pupils turn to pinpricks as they realize what's happening, then the dilation as your hooks start to set in. That... That feeling is what you want, what you need. It's been so long since you've been able to do this, always hiding behind your Light magic while your Dark was left, ignored.

But tonight, you'll make it up to the shadow. Give it everything it desires and more.

The secrets that she keeps are yours to gleam. With her at your mercy, there's precious little she can hide from you. "Hello, Nadia," you whisper, caressing her cheek. A name is something so easy to take, but the sweet terror she feels as she realizes her mind has been violated makes you moan warmly. You really need to do this more often. Then, you amp it up further. You can enhance feelings that are already there, but the power works in reverse too. You dull her terror, turning it from a rampaging beast to a mewling whisper. That feeling shrinks further and further, until she's perfectly sedated.

"What did you do?" she whispers, aghast.

It's a horrific loop - she's broken and in the grip of an evil sorcerer trying to erase her mind, only to find that she can't feel terror. Her panic dies in her throat as no matter how dire the situation is, no matter how much she knows she should be screaming, all that she can feel is a sedated calm.

And while she cannot feel terror, she can know despair. Such is the fate of those that fuck with your daughter. "I took away your ability to feel fear, my dear Nadia. We won't need things like that between us."

She shivers, but your gentle caress of the cheek brings her a brief moment of warmth, of comfort, of arousal. She hates herself for it, but cannot deny the strange feeling that popped into her mind for a second.

But that second is all you needed. You grabbed onto those feeling and turned them up as high as they can go. Her hair sticks to the wetness between your thighs as she thrashes in your grip, desperately trying to escape, but it's no use. She can feel her resolute convictions slip between her fingers, all that makes Nadia Nadia begins to leave.

Lips press together and more convictions broken. Love and Lust are so often intertwined, but it's here that you grasp the love and make it pulsate harder, turning her hatred of you into love, then obsession.

When you pull apart the Assassin is squirming on your lap, her mind no longer her own, a confusing tempest of feelings that you can just tear apart. And where there was once fear and defiance lies only blissful submission.

The groundwork has finally been laid down. It's time to extract what you want from her.


The best part of this whole thing is the training. Your hand dips between her thighs, and whenever that lust spikes, you hook it together with the sensation of her mind getting twisted. As much as she wishes she can hate it, the Assassin can only meekly beg for more as you toy with her thoughts.

Your hand idly brushes her hair, the creature beneath you whimpering at the touch. "Good girl," you tell her, husky voice making the girl sigh. You extract what you want from her mind.

The Mistress, a Seer to the north, blessed and cursed with the power of prophecy. She woke up in a cold sweat, a month ago, ranting about how the Cursed Child was on her way to becoming a Great Evil, and while the act of infanticide was heinous, it must be prevented, for the good of the world.

Her home in the city of Al'Somayeh is as clear to you as day. The pet squirms beneath you, but you ignore her for now, trying to focus on committing it all to memory.

Well, you've found an enemy, now. The only issue is that she's a little far away from you. But it's something that can be fixed.

And speaking of fixing...

You stroke the chin of your captive pet, pulling out of your trance as you free her mind for the moment. Can't be getting distracted.

Light magic can heal. This is known by all. But how it heals is a mystery to most. But not to you.

You've healed enough people, and whenever you did you just had a thought in the back of your mind that always stuck. Why did the Light heal the way it did? Why did the wounds knit themselves back together?

Throughout your childhood, it always perplexed you. Until you discovered Freyr's Blessing. Such a strange spell to fall under the domain of Light Magic. At least you thought so.

Light Magic heals, but it heals what the victim perceives as alien to them. Should they be cut, a cut is not a natural state of being, so the light magic removes it. Light magic doesn't just fix, it restores. If a love or lust is so strong that the lack of a cock is deemed a detriment, an illness, then your spell can fix that. It just requires the right frame of mind, looking at it through a certain lens called Freyr's blessing.

And if you can grow a cock using Light Magic, who's to say what else you can't change? They are imperfections, just waiting to be restored. You overload the girl with all the light magic you have as you rearrange her features, some of the harsher lines turning softer and cuter. The nose a slight smaller, eyes a bit wider, chin less sharp... All things you can rearrange. You play with her like putty, moulding her into a completely different woman, despite her protests. With her skin a smidge lighter and her sandy hair a pinch brighter, the girl looks almost unrecognizable.

With that done, you stare down at your handiwork. "Well done, my pet."

The whisper makes the assassin squirm beneath you, tears running down her eyes, though you doubt she even knows why.

Now, the final touches. Your daughter needs a new maid, and she'll be the perfect candidate. She already has a connection to your daughter, after all, and it's childs play to turn that fear into love and into obsession.

Humming softly to yourself, you get to work on twisting Nadia's mind, until all that remains is your own perfect pet project. A protector for when you cannot be with your daughter; forever entangled in the web of your family. And as you look down at her sinful body, thoughts of your mother come rushing back. Maybe Nadia can even be a morsel for you and your daughter to one day devour...


The chirping of the birds knocks you from your magical trance. Thankfully the distraction was nothing major, just a few countermeasures should the Assassin somehow break some of your safeguards. If each of your compulsions was a hook, then if you looked at her brain you'd see not a drop of pink, She's been molested, changed in a way that few can ever possibly conceive. Her very feelings artificial.

As you break the trance, she's gone completely limp. Understandable. Nadia's mind needs a moment to... adjust.

You stand up, stretching and letting that satisfying crack sound as you shake off the rust. You spent far longer here than you thought, but rewriting someone takes a long time.

Right now, anyway.

You grin as you watch your new maid sleeping. You'd be burned alive if people found out what you were, indulging like this is dangerous, but you'd do it without hesitation. All for Hope.

Dried blood cakes your armour as it attaches to your nude body once more. Even with your deep reserves, this night took a lot out of you.


Exhaustion begins to set deep into your bones, so you pull more magic from the abyss and let the regeneration soothe your body. As you ascend the stairs, you force yourself back into the Dawnbringer. "Nobody in or out. Understood?"

They both nod, too terrified to do much else.

With that sorted, you head back to your Daughter's bedroom. The wetnurse is breastfeeding your daughter and you feel a pang of jealousy, though you don't want to disturb her.

Even with your armour, the maids are much more at ease without your glowing eyes and the aura of death you radiated. Your gauntlets recede into your bracelet, and after what feels like an eternity, you hold Hope in your own hands once more. "Come," you tell your baby as you leave. "It's time to find your Papa."


It's heart-warming to see your husband frantically looking for you, even if it comes with a pang of pity as he hobbles along with his cane on the grass of your estate. The servants and guards are in a frenzy; some carrying body bags while others are sweeping up the debris left from your battle. The entire estate is alive with the sounds of activity.

Through all the mess, your husband eventually spots you heading towards him, his hurried movements surprising considering his illness. There's... not quite panic, but definitely concern.

"Dear, are you alright?" His eyes widen as he spots the dried blood on your face, but you shake your head at him.

"It's not my blood."

Relief crawls onto his face at that, his shoulders slumping as the worry starts to leave and weariness sets in once more. Your daughter reaches out with a finger, gently pressing it against Estaban's face.

"Papa!"

The Duke's face lights up again at that, the pain melting away as he hugs both you and your daughter. "I was so worried," he murmurs, trembling slightly. "An intruder... an assassin, and nobody could find the two of you."

"It's fine, I protected her. Nobody's going to harm Hope as long as I have anything to say about it."

Your husband shakes his head, fist weakly pounding on your plate. "But you shouldn't have to. I knew there was a chance, but I didn't think they'd sink so low as to actually try and kill Hope..."

Ah, he thinks it's an issue with succession. It's a good cover, honestly. There are a few very distant second and third cousins who would have a lot to gain should the Duke's daughter pass away, and so you just nod along, patting his back gently.

The two of you head back inside to your chambers, at which point you finally relax, collapsing into a chair while Hope looks around in wonder. "Let me take her," Estaban offers, hands outstretched. "Take a bath, relax for a little. It's... not much, but I can at least do this."

You hesitate for a moment, but the way your daughter's squirming, trying to move to her father... Well, sure. There are guards outside, and you won't be far... It takes a bit of effort, but you hand your child over to her father. The adorable laughter she makes as her Daddy holds her makes it all worth it.

He nuzzles her forehead, and a small smile begins to spread on your face. He's taken to fatherhood well, for someone that prefers the company of men. He can have her now, but by the Abyss, your daughter will be with you tonight.


Right next door to your bedroom is the grand bathing chambers, a huge bath carved from stone into the ground, heated by the burning mana furnace on the floor beneath you. The mirrors on the side of the room are steamy as ever, and the selection of soaps and washes are all there to help you feel and smell your best.

The lap of luxury, and it's all yours.

Stripping off your armour, you slide into the hot water and let out a sigh of relief as you allow yourself a moment to relax. The warm water over your skin is joined by blissful quiet, the only sound being the gentle bubbling of the water as it is drained away and clean water pumped back in

Steam rises in the room, and as you think about starting to clean up, you hear the door open.

You whip your head to the side, only to see her come in. A small demure thing, one of the younger maids on the estate. Her name escapes you, but you remember her being there when you visited your daughter last night.

Soft and pale, with dark black hair, you can see how she breathes in quickly out of nervousness. "I-I've volunteered to help you bathe, Lady Duchess. The Duke said that you needed help cleaning your armour and your... body."

It takes you a while to process it, and when understanding dawns a wide smile creeps onto your face. Oh, how your husband spoils you~


"Again, Papa!"

Estaban smiles as he points a finger towards one of the makeshift targets by the window. With a thought, water, a thin stream of glittering water fired from the fingertip, cutting a hole straight through the target and splitting into a stream of droplets. It almost looked like a rainbow in the morning sun.

As the Dragon's Curse progressed, many things came slower to the Duke. Moving, breathing, it all became a struggle. But not his magic. That came easily, just as potent as he was in his prime.

His Hydro Lance spell was his secret ability. Water could be generated through mana, yes, but there were so many different ways to generate it. Some let out huge pools of it, others tried to emulate a flowing river, but there was one concept that the Duke found intriguing in his youth.

How small can the area be?

It started with just sprays and showers first, a mere party trick, but as he grew more experienced the opening got smaller and smaller, until he could force water into reality through a gap the size of a pinprick.

The resultant jet of water was surprisingly powerful, and by pouring in more and more mana, forcing yet more into that tiny pinprick, it could bore holes through armour.

It wasn't a perfect technique and never would be; the finer complexities of creating multiple streams, or even doing it without the physical, visual cue of his finger were beyond him. But it served him well in combat where his bigger, flashier spells wouldn't.

Another shot with the lance across the room was met by enthusiastic, adorable laughter by his daughter. The duke laid a kiss on her forehead. Going into fatherhood was a worrying leap, but it paid off in dividends. His adorable child Hope, his dutiful wife Anastasia... They were good people. And while he hated himself for leaving the child without a father, he could give her memories at least.

Hope pushed herself up off his lap, standing up unsteadily, using Estaban's own body as support. Then, she pointed towards one of the other targets, a weak stream of water hitting onto it, followed by an adorable laugh.

Pride wells in the Duke's chest. What a smart girl, magic already! She looks to him for approval, and approval he gives. Estaban hugs her close as the baby laughs, revelling in the closeness he shares with his daughter.


The Duke gently pats the back of his daughter as she nods off to sleep. Her black hair was similar to his own; at least before the curse hit him. She surely had her mother's eyes though, a pale blue that gave the impression of perfect clarity.

He gently rubs her back as the baby slumbers. "I'm so sorry, Hope," he whispers, tears beginning to well up. "You're mother's a wonderful woman, but growing up without a father might be difficult."

The bedroom is silent, save for the slight whistling of the wind and the gentle breathing of the baby "I... Please remember your Papa, Hope. Even if just a little. "

With his prayer spoken, the duke cuddles his pride and joy, savouring every second of it.


The slender maid watches you nervously, waiting to hear your desire. Quite a nice face, slender and from the looks of it, quite submissive. You've not really been with a woman - anyone, really - since Manat and you decide if now's the time to have some fun.

Drawing from the Abyss, mana flows through your body once more, the constant low level regeneration cutting in. Yeah, you've got energy to go another round.


You eye her like a predator, languidly stretching in the bath as she watches your every move. Oh, you can have so much fun with this one. But first, she needs to be dressed for the part. "It'd be a shame to get that lovely uniform all wet. Strip."

The servant is dutiful, and nods along.

"A-as you wish, Duchess." You watch in amusement as her trembling fingers struggle to undo the buttons on her dress. It takes her a few attempts, and your intense gaze only trips her up further, but she manages it eventually. Her pale skin is smooth and hairless, a nice touch considering she's a mere servant. Is she always like this, or did she prepare herself especially for today?

Soon, all that's left are her underclothes. She tries to hide her body with her arms, but you still get a good look. She's skinny, not to the point of malnourishment, but... fragile. Such an adorable little thing. Yet, there's more she needs to do. The maid steps towards you, but you click your tongue. She lets out an adorable "Eep!" as you do so.

"I said strip. That means everything."

The maid's face burns bright red but to her credit she doesn't hesitate, breathing heavily as she removes her plain white bra and her panties. You don't miss the spot of wetness on her underwear, and it just confirms your suspicions. Your husband is generous indeed.

You curl your finger, beckoning her forward and the servant does so, tentatively stepping towards you until she enters the bath herself, washcloth still in hand. It's a large bath, and it's deep enough for her to go to her belly.

You can't help but to smile as the spellbound girl takes in your body - the large breasts, your thick thighs and the toned, powerful muscles you have that serve to enhance your feminine beauty without ever taking away from it. She's almost transfixed, her trembling growing stronger until you find it in yourself to break her out of the daze.

"What is your name?"

It takes the maid a moment to collect herself, the sharp intake of breath tells you that much at least. "Anna," she murmurs. With how quietly she squeaks, she almost reminds you of a mouse.

"Well then Anna, let's get started. I don't bite~"

With that, she begins to scrub your skin. Not much of the Assassin's blood got through the armour, but there are a few spattering that made it through the gaps thanks to your liberal use of wind magic. She presses hard with the washcloth, all so that her fingers can feel the contours of your muscles, how wonderfully your entire body is put together. She presses down on your soft skin, finding hard muscle underneath.

"You're like a statue..." she whispers, transfixed. You're not sure if she knew she even said that, but you throw your head back anyway and let her scrub your arms and collarbone. She begins to breath heavily as her cloth cleans a bit of blood from your breasts. A moan escapes your lips as a few drops of milk escape, Anna reeling back slightly before you assure her that it's alright.

Too soon you're free of blood, but your maid doesn't stop. With her eyes wide, she continues to clean your body. When you stand to give her better access, she gulps but still dutifully cleans your abdomen, the fabric rubbing across your washboard stomach. That is until you yank the corner. It slips from her grip, but she doesn't stop, hands rubbing against your abs as she quivers in place.


You reach out and gently pat her head. The maid initially recoils, but you gently force her back until she's resumed her worship of your body.

"Good girl," you whisper, caressing her silky hair. This girl really does take care of herself... It's pretty nice. The guiding hand pushes her head closer to your belly, until you can feel her short hot breaths over your skin. "You can use your tongue, you know."

Permission's the only thing she needs, and an instant later you feel the hot wetness of her tongue on your skin. She gently prods at first before giving you a long lick between the crevice of your abs.

"It's unfair," she says, pouting. "Nobody should have a body this delicious, especially after pregnancy."

You laugh a little, and elect to just lean back, letting your full glory be seen. "Oh , I've put in work, but it's paid off, don't you think?" The maid nods, and with that you retreat to the edge of the bath and lie back on the stone, closing your eyes as you bear everything at her. "I expect you to clean everything, you know~"

Anne doesn't even need an excuse before she indulges, kissing your breasts having taken it for the invitation you intended. Her mouth finds its way to your nipple, only for her eyes to go wide as she gets a taste of your milk. "Thirsty, are we?" you tease, reaching up to pat her head again, causing the maid to shudder in delight as she straddles your thigh. "You may have a taste."

Nursing a grown woman is strange, but that brand has made this oh so pleasurable. It's hard not to cry out as she suckles from your tit, forcing yourself to bite down on your lip to not scream out. It's never felt like that before. Birthing a Demon Lord seems to have strange effects.

A moan eventually escapes your lips, but all that does is cause the girl to switch breasts as you squirm. Her hands roam across your body, rubbing your powerful thighs, squeezing your plump ass. She's so small compared to you, and seeing how your body eclipses hers just makes the power disparity so much more evident. You're letting Anne indulge in you, and the knowledge that she so easily obliges just fuels you further.

Unfortunately, she soon has her fill, pulling away from your nipple with a pop. She's breathing hard, her wetness evident as she straddles your thigh, slowly grinding back and forth. It's like she's just waiting to burst.

"I must admit, I've never seen someone so taken with me," you say. Septimus above, does being worshipped like divinity boost your ego You really do look perfect. "What was it that made you volunteer? An errant dream? "

(Roll result - 58 - Pass)

She shakes her head, trembling slightly.

"I-it was last night," she admits. "W-when you burst into the baby's room..." Her breaths grow short and ragged as she humps your leg even faster. "Carrying the broken person behind you... and then you just gave me this... mmmh... look."

Her hands squeeze her own breasts as she remembers, panting heavily. "Covered in blood like a warrior, glowing like a Valkyrie you looked at me with shining eyes that pierced into my soul like I was nothing, like I was trash."

(New trait discovered. Since Dawnbringer boosts Physical, it also boosts appearance when in use.)

You bring your hands to her back and bring the girl in closer, shuddering in your grip. "Go on," you whisper into her ear. "Tell me everything~"

Anne shivers in your grip but swallows, recovering slightly as she recalls the night. "I'd just never seen anyone so... dominant. It was like looking at a... goddess."

You laugh in response. What a strange girl. Submissive to the core. But if she wanted to kneel before you, well, it might not be all bad. "And are you the only one, Anne?" you whisper, the girl shaking her head.

"M-most of the girls are into the Duke, or have dalliances with the knights, but you have a lot of fans, M-Duchess. Even among those who don't enjoy the company of women. T-there were a lot of volunteers for this."

Interesting... You'd been so busy working you hadn't noticed the fanclub slowly forming around you. This could be useful, should their affections be used properly.


Well, with how honest the girl has been, you might as well give her something to make this moment even more special than it has been. You place the hooks into your mind once more and then let your mana burn freely, an aura of light encasing your body. The horny sub's eyes widen in surprise, but you look at her dismissively, narrowing your eyes in pure disgust, though your mouth remains neutral, almost as if it's a mask.

She whimpers, and hardly resists as you flip over, pinning her to the ground. She stares directly at you, the glow suffusing your body, the way the light and shadow dances across your body with the pulsation of your aura, and most importantly your eyes. She's ultimately just a toy, and you can tell that she knows that.

"Struggle"

It was a simple command, as the insect below you is hardly worth the energy to say more The maid tries to move, but she finds that she's unable to budge an inch, as if she was encased in restraints made of stone. Her breathing increases as you lean closer, to the point where you're worried she might hyperventilate.

You lean down close, blonde hair cascading over her face, cutting off vision of everything but you and your smouldering eyes.

Her voice hitches a bit in glee as your wide irises bore down into her soul. "Names." you command. You let her arms go, not as if she could do anything to you anyway, and start to caress her body. You have to be extra careful, even your lightest touches are a bit too strong and anything overfly passionate might leave bruises or cracks. But maybe she's like that?

Your hand sneaks between her soaking wet thighs as you stick two fingers into her tight crevice, the woman screaming in pleasure at your touch. You recede, waiting for her answer. You are not one to repeat your commands.

"T-there's Gabrielle Roth," she says, finally catching your meaning. You give the girl a cold smile, pressing your face against her collar and breathing in deeply before planting a kiss on her neck. The maid squirms, but there's no way she can escape.

Even if she wanted to.

"More."

"A-alexandria Bohm,"

For that, you kiss her on the lips, her eyes unfocused and dazed. she squirms in place, trying to hump your fingers, but you want... need more.

"Emila Weiss..."

With that, you push your fingers in, careful not to move too fast. Don't want to tear anything, and you must admit that feeling her squirm around you as she clenches tight upon you is quaint enough that you don't quite want to stop. She humps against you uselessly, on the cusp of climax, but you refuse.

"Lena Pfeiffer..." With that, you begin to move your fingers again and her breaths grow even shorter. She's having some trouble gathering enough energy, and so you give her what she needs. You move your fingers in and out, fingering the woman as she writhes beneath. You press your lips against hers for the briefest of moments then pull apart as she watches you, dazed.

Between her breaths the maid begins to speak. "Emma Zephiel... Hannah Engel... and... a few others..."

Aww, is that all she remembers? Well, she's been a good girl, and so you give her the reward she craves. You pick up the pace fingering her and whisper your next command, one she's so eager to follow.

"Cum for me"

Not one to disappoint, Anne cries out as you order it, her walls clamping down hard on your fingers as she's brought to a convulsing climax, her high pitched voice the start of what you hope will one day be a beautiful symphony.

Her breaths are shallow, unable to keep up longer after that climax wiped her out. But you're not done yet. You kiss her once more, this time making full use of your power to kiss her deep and long. She squirms in your embrace, and as you squeeze her tight you revel in the sensation of her trying and failing to escape. She soon gives up and just melts into your arms, going limp as your tongue explores her mouth.

When you pull apart, you can see her eyes unfocus, twitching slightly as she has a second, much quieter climax.

"Pitiful," you tell her, watching as the maid twitches on the floor. Cute, but pathetic. What took you so long to indulge like this?

As you watch her, a fiendish idea comes into your head. She's yours, and you want everyone to know. You press your lips against her shoulder, and she looks at you strangely for a moment.

That is until you Bite.

She cries out. In plain or pleasure, you're not sure, by her wonderful voice sounds through the house yet again. Your ivory teeth presses down gently, but your own strength proves to be too much as even your gentle chomp had more force than you anticipated. Pulling away, you give the girl a show, licking the blood from your lips.

"Delicious," you murmur, catching the gaze of the maid once more. A bite like that leaves a mark - it's a claim. Maybe she'll even show her friends, and their dreams will be of you roughly taking them like you did Anne here.


The little masochist maid is so adorable. And truthfully, you feel like you've started to understand something about your sexuality. You've known for a while that you generally preferred the company of women over men, but between your session last night with the failure of an assassin and this slutty maid, you're starting to wonder if being dominant is what really gets you going.

Seeing her staring into the air like that sends a shudder down your spine. Yes. You'll need to... explore this side of you later. But for now, there's a baby that needs your assistance. You pass over the maid, making sure to step atop her as you head to the exit. It's nothing dangerous, a firm but soft press of your feet against her chest, but she lets out a happy moan anyway. It wouldn't do to hurt the toys that you own, and if she's happy without being too hurt, that's good enough.

"Do clean yourself up," you tell her as you slip into your gown. "One of my maids must always find themselves presentable." You hear her breath hitch at your claim of her. She understands that you're not referring merely to her employment - she's one of yours now. Hopefully she's smart enough to understand.

You let out a sigh as you dispel your Dawnbringer, feeling refreshed despite the mana usage. Well, nothing like a bit of recreational time with the maids to finally calm you down. With a spring in your step, you open the door, only to stop and turn before you leave.

"I'm always up for more~"

And with that, you leave the maid alone to stew.


As you approach your bedroom, you find your husband holding your baby, writing down on parchment with one hand and hugging her close with the other. He perks up as you approach, dropping his quill to place a finger over his lips.

"She's just finishing her nap," he whispers. Wow, how long were you bathing for?

"Still working?" you ask, staring pointedly at the parchment. It's addressed to... Hope? Your husband stares at it for a while, only to append his signature to the bottom, folding it in half.

"Just finishing up," he says, standing up with your baby in tow. He seems resolute, despite his sickness. "I'm thinking of taking a break off work today... spending some time with you and Hope."


You're very tired after last night. Maybe a family day together could be nice.

You smile a little at that and take his hand, giving him another shot of soothing Light magic. "Of course," you say, squeezing the fingers slightly. "That sounds amazing."

And it is.

After a brief period of rest (And waiting for Hope to wake up), the three of you spend the rest of the day together. You take Hope out on the estate, letting her frolic in the fields while the pair of you watch, eating a picnic the maids prepared.

Estaban even does his best attempt at Hide and Seek as Hope runs around trying to find you. She falls occasionally, but after crawling for a bit picks herself back up, mirthful laughter sounding all around.

In the afternoon, the three of you go on a horseback stroll through the countryside, enjoying the fresh breeze and the sunlight. You stop off at a local farm, and the man there is perfectly happy to let your daughter play with the chickens and goats.

As you head back, the sun begins to sink below the sky, but he has a better idea. He instructs the servants to take the horses back, and you use your mastery of wind to get him home. Held tightly, you fly Esteban and Hope atop the spire at the tip of the castle, letting your whole family watch the sunset in awe.

When you land, you're greeted by the servants yet again and the three of you share a family meal in one of the smaller dining rooms. Hope's still on mushy food, and the two of you take turns feeding her, much to your baby's delight.

At the end of it all, the two of you wearily climb to your room. After placing Hope down in her relocated crib, you and your husband snuggle into bed. "I'm calling in a favour," he asks, your eyes widening in surprise. Well... That was a long time ago indeed.

"What is it?" you reply, curious to see where it goes. He acts instead of speaking, wrapping his arms around you in an embrace. "Just for tonight, let me stay like this."

Ah, well, you've spent the whole day acting like husband and wife, so you suppose you can indulge him now, He rests against your back, cuddling you close as the pair of you drift off into sleep.

When you awaken, the hand around your waist is still there, but... different. you turn over to see your husband's smiling, peaceful sleeping face, but it's not until you fondly caress his cheek that you realize he's cold to the touch.


You sit there for a moment, still as a statue, unsure what to do. It takes you several minutes to process it, and you just stare at his face until you absentmindedly reach for the bell at the side of your bed.

Estaban's butler heads in shortly after, and your eyes meet. The old, greying man takes a look at the two of you, at your eyes, and his tears start to swell. You just sit in bed numb, even when the older servants take their master's body. You always knew it was coming, you just didn't expect it to be so... sudden.

You can't even think as to what lurks beneath the veil of numbness that you feel.

The servants check up on you from time to time, but you wave them away wordlessly, just sitting in place.

That is, until you hear your daughter awaken, yawning as she stands up in her crib.

Seeking comfort, you rush to her, picking her up and cuddling close "Mama!" she yells, her soft words soothing your heart.

"Don't worry, dear," you whisper, brushing her hair. "I'm here." It's calming, soothing, and with her in your grasp, you find yourself finally starting to feel again. As you hold the baby, she looks around the room; first at the bed, then at the desk. You had never thought a creature as small as her could damage you, but her question pains you more than all of the fights you've been in.

"Where Papa?"


You breathe out, steeling yourself for this. Talk of death is never easy, especially to one so young. You sit back down on the bed his chair your recliner and hug your daughter close. But it's important that you remain strong at this time. You allow yourself a few tears before wiping them away and staring your baby in the face.

"Papa is... in a better place now, dearest." Your child tilts her head, and you just continue to stroke her hair. It's important to be strong, be what you need to be for your daughter. "He loved us very much, my Hope, but his body wasn't able to keep up with him."

She stares at you for a few seconds, her lower lip trembling as tears begin to well in her eyes. Your daughter's very smart for her age, but it's a detriment here. "Papa... gone?"

There's a hollow, sinking feeling below your heart, but you do your best to ignore it, keeping your voice calm, gentle, reassuring. "I'm afraid so."

Hope looks at you for a few seconds before the dam bursts, wailing as tears run down her cheeks. You almost want to join her, but you have to be strong. You weren't in love, but your husband was a great man, a kind, thoughtful person who always treated you well. He was, as strange as it is to think, one of your closest friends. You've spend so much time together over the last two years it's almost impossible for you have not to bonded.

But you just didn't think it'd sting as it does.

You pat your baby's back as you hug her, whispering sweet nothings as she gets those tears out. After a few minutes her voice, hitching and quivering, finally hits you again. "Will Mama go too?"


You hug your baby right, hand curling up into a fist. It's a lie, just a little white lie, but that's the sort of comfort she needs right now. "Not if I have anything to say about it," you whisper, stroking your daughter's head.

It's good news, but your daughter still cries. You do all you can to comfort her.


The funeral takes two weeks to prepare. It's a dour affair, and your wardrobe of black feels appropriate. Even little Hope is in her own adorable black dress.

There are a lot of familiar faces. Your parents, for once, as well as a variety of knights from the Order Lilium that you vaguely remember from your childhood. Even the Emperor and his Imperial Guard have made it, though you notice something when your eyes meet the Empress.

She's pregnant.

Incredibly so, she looks as if she'll give birth in a couple of weeks.

It's almost like a redo of your wedding.

You act so very composed during the whole event, pretending not to hear the rumors from some of the minor ladies about poison - about your father's cunning or your own ambitions. Right now, you have little patience for such a matter.

It's exhausting, but you give the speech you prepared, singing your husband's praises and his history in front of the crowd. You took the liberty of inviting most of the Duke's servants, many of them looking the worst out of everyone. You don't cry though. Hope is watching.

And so you relay the tales of your husband's youth - his expedition with a certain prince, baron and an order of knights, how it fell by their hand, how he took the curse within himself and how despite the pain, he still ran his duchy, protecting it from the monsters of the countryside and the monsters that called themselves men.

The lands were peaceful, safe, and ever now the world is worse without him. You can't bring him back, but you can keep him in your memories.

The Emperor speaks next, with many a fond word to say about his close friend. As he speaks, you find a hand squeezing yours. You look to the side to see the Empress - that cold feeling gone. Was it Manat's death? Or had the bargain been fulfilled?

She doesn't speak, instead just doing her best to comfort you. You don't know the Empress well, but you appreciate the gesture all the same.

Soon the time comes for you to say goodbye. His final resting place, a hill overlooking his duchy, soon become crowded as the grave is lifted. Yet, it's not by the servants. The Emperor, your Father and a few other well dressed men you don't recognize lift the coffin up the hill, mood dour but resolute in their actions. You watch as they grab shovels resting against the tree, the lot of them starting to dig.

It might be a bit of sacrilege for the Emperor to dirty himself, but you see it as something different. A testament to the friendship they shared.

You take one more look at the coffin, at the open top half. He's as he was the day he died, a warm smile on his face as he rests. You stare for far too long, and before you know it the time has come to close the lid.

Together, the men lift the coffin and lower it into the grave, together with the help of the servants. As the box vanishes beneath the earth, you and Hope wave goodbye. He was a good man, after all.

You watch wordlessly as the men shovel the dirt back in, speaking of times long gone. Soon the black rainclouds do the crying for you, rain tumbling down. An arm links around yours as the Empress offers you and Hope shelter with her.

"Thanks," you murmur, staring at Kimi.

She doesn't say anything, merely leading you towards one of her carriages.

When you enter, you allow yourself to finally let loose the tension you've been holding for weeks. "If you need anything..." the empress says, letting her offer hang in the air.


"I ll take you up on that offer, some day," you tell the Empress. But today, you just want to be close to your daughter. You snuggle her close, the Empress looking on in... envy(?) as you cuddle your daughter until she falls asleep.

The carriage takes your home, few others coming to see you. You want space, and thankfully they understand that. Once you're back home, you climb the stairs to a small bedroom the servants have prepared for you, a guess room. You're not sure about being in the Master Bedroom right now.

You place Hope in her crib, then flop onto your bed, staring at the ceiling.

It seems as if this chapter of your life is over, and you've got some time to do that which turns men mad.

You ponder.


For a while, you stare and think of the future. Relief first washes over you. With your husband's passing, he'll never know that his wife and daughter might just be Evil. The man gave his life to stop two calamitous beings - he shouldn't know about the fact that he helped birth a third.

But Estaban is dead, and it's time for you to move on. There are more things to do, threats to your daughter's life that must be taken care of, and you work quickly.

It starts with the mysterious new maid. 'Nadia' is a fairly common name in Al'kehir, but you give it a bit of a twist, naming her Nadir. Just a little joke you can recite at any time to cheer yourself up.

This new maid is hired directly by you, to the worries of the head butler. But once you make her show her skills, he quietens up quickly. Nadir's mind has been improved by your ministrations, and after a few top ups, you decide that she's adequate for defending Hope.

Hope takes kindly to her new Nanny, and Nadir seems pleased. Whenever she sees you or your Baby she can't help but to feel calm and happy, with your orders only providing further pleasure. It may be tuned too high considering she once climaxed after you ordered her to bring you a drink, then thanked her and pet her head, but it's good enough for now.

There's no chance of her breaking free unless you run into an expert at getting rid of this kind of magic. And the only ones who can are either Dark mages like yourself...

Or those with the power of Light.


Your father does his best to run the Duchy, the plans your husband made all flowing perfectly. You sit in some of the meetings, providing your opinion from time to time. Your wants and needs are considered and they do their best to fulfil your vision. You are very much the Duchess, and your father helps only to bring your vision into reality.

Right now there's not much to do aside from keeping the land stable (Your late husband keep everything in impeccable shape, of course) and so you just let them get on with it for the most part. But later? Who knows.


"Granmama!"

Your little daughter is quite quick on her feet as she runs towards your mother, wrapping her arms around the knight's legs. When you asked your parents to stay over to look after Hope, they were very understanding of your need to take some time away. Your mother doesn't quite know how to comfort you, but she does it the best she can by providing levity. She makes lewd comments about some of the maids, and knowing what you know, that's enough to bring a smile to your lips at times.

All they know is that you're going on a trip for a few days and you need them to look after Hope.


You ve made your preparations, and with a deep breath you prepare yourself. It's a long journey to the kingdom of Al'kehir, but with your flight it shouldn't take more than a few days.

As you pack your supplies in your bedroom, your mother hugs you from the back. "Take care, sweetie," she mutters, brushing your hair. Such a lovely woman, your mother. Not only is she willing to drop everything to look after Hope, but she's even trying to comfort you still. This is why you liked her enough to give her Anna to play with.

Hopefully the two get along well.

"It's just a trip to clear my head," you tell her, trying to assuage her fears. "I'll be back in a few days. Take care of Hope for me, okay?"

Your mother stares at you, as if she's not quite sure if you're telling the truth or not...


But if she does suspect anything, she doesn't speak up about it. "Just stay safe," she says.

Planting her a kiss on the cheek, you promise your mother, then go to see your Daughter. Hope's with your father, the old man laughing as your daughter tugs on his beard.

"I'll be back soon, Father, Hope."

Hope looks at you and waves. You've explained the trip to her dozens of times over, and you think she understands enough right now. "See Soon, Mama!"

Your father smiles. "Your mother and I will take care of everything. Just relax, destress a little."

Oh, if only he knew.