Hey, guys! Welcome back to Hear a Tale! And also, happy Octopath Traveler II release day! Got another long one for today, but before we do anything else, review time!

Thanks so much to CitrusChickadee for reviewing! Ah, good catch! I did indeed have Therion and Cyrus' travel banter in mind when writing that last chapter! And yeah, like I said at the very beginning, Therion is my boy and I love him, messed up eye and all :)

With that, on with the tale!

Relevant Events: Primrose's Chapter Three

12. Insanity

Primrose gazed down at Albus' crumpled body with hooded eyes, her lip still curled in a slight snarl. Without even looking, she swiped a piece of cloth over her bloodied dagger, then tossed the cloth over her shoulder once the blade was clean.

"...and then there was one," she murmured tonelessly.

Revello nodded, then placed a hand on the dancer's shoulder. "There was no warrior in Noblecourt more fierce than he…" he said softly. "You fought wonderfully, Lady Primrose."

Primrose said nothing.

The former city watchman frowned, but did not press her. With a sigh, he moved to stand beside the three travelers that had accompanied Primrose for this particular segment of her journey: Therion, Alfyn, and Olberic. "We should…give her a few moments alone," Revello whispered to them, then quietly made for the door.

Alfyn and Olberic shared an uneasy glance, but ultimately took their leave as well. Before exiting himself, Therion spared a glance back at Primrose, who was still standing over the body, motionless. His visible eye briefly narrowed, and though he too left the room, he did not go farther than just to the right of the doorway.

After several moments, Primrose took a few slow steps away from Albus' corpse, though her eyes did not leave it. She sheathed her dagger and took a long deep breath, then turned towards the door, intending to follow her companions.

The sound of footsteps behind her halted the dancer in her tracks.

Primrose turned, her eyebrows creasing as she caught sight of a familiar head of long, silver hair. "Simeon…?"

The former gardener sauntered forward until he stood right across from her, a charming grin gracing his lips. "Ah, Primrose. Fancy meeting you here!" He did not seem surprised to see her, but the feeling was far from mutual.

She blinked slowly, almost unable to comprehend Simeon's very presence. "What brings you to this…terrible place…?" she asked uncertainly.

Simeon chuckled lightly, tapping the side of his head as though remembering something briefly forgotten. "Ah, but of course. About that, you see…" In three strides, he closed the distance between them, smiling wider as Primrose's breath caught in her throat. "There's something I simply had to tell you…"

Something was wrong.

His smile was too wide. His eyes were too bright.

He was too close.

Primrose had barely half a second to contemplate the strange, inherent wrongness of the scene before Simeon rushed forward, grabbing her shoulder with one hand and thrusting a dagger into her midriff with the other.

The dancer gasped as she was lifted up slightly, her body stuck on the dagger's blade as her attacker drove it further into her abdomen. The pain barely registered at first, stunned as she was - all she could process was the sudden, insane gleam in Simeon's eyes.

In that moment, he could not have possibly looked more different than the man she'd thought she'd known.

"W-What…?" she whispered over the blood rushing in her ears. "Simeon…"

Simeon leaned in, his lips barely brushing her ear as he purred, "Oh, I'm sorry. I heard that you were looking around for my friend here. And you know what they say about birds of a feather…"

His grip on her shoulder tightened a fraction before he shoved her off of his knife, leaving her to stagger backwards and collapse onto the floor. With an elegant flourish that heavily contrasted the manic grin on his face, Simeon tore his cravat away from his neck, revealing the ink-stained skin underneath.

A jet-black crow was displayed plainly across his throat.

Primrose's head pounded, an odd sense of numbness washing over her mind even as her stomach began to burn with pain. "The mark…" she breathed faintly, "...of the crow…but…but why…? Simeon…!"

Black began to creep into the corners of her vision. The room spun, and she would have fallen completely flat had Simeon not reached forward and delicately placed a hand under her chin, holding her up in her kneeling position.

"Do forgive me, Lady Primrose," he chuckled. "There was just one thing I forgot to mention. The head of the Obsidians? The crow atop the roost? And, oh yes, the one who killed your dear, dear father…" His fingers tightened, gripping her jaw so tightly that it would almost certainly bruise. "...it was me."

Growing increasingly more dazed as blood seeped from her wound, all Primrose could do was stare vacantly back at him. "No…it can't be…" she whispered, only barely aware of the tears welling in her eyes.

Simeon gazed at her, studying her face with a neutral expression before his face lit with that strange, cold insanity once more. He began to laugh, releasing his grip on her face and allowing her to tumble to the ground.

"Bravo…oh, bravo, Lady Primrose!" he cried, his voice echoing through the large room as he began to applaud. "I knew you had it in you! That was a virtuoso performance, my love…" Simeon whirled, spreading his arms as though facing an adoring crowd. "The audience gasps! At long last, she tracks down the villain she's been hunting all these years…only to find out it is her one true love!"

The silver-haired man grinned and turned back to Primrose. His back was to the door, so he could not see the figure that had moved to peer in from the doorway once he had begun his rather loud tirade. Instead, Simeon simply folded his hands behind his back and leaned in towards the dancer's bloodied form, smirking arrogantly.

"Look at the tears she weeps, the blood she spills…" he continued, far more softly than before, "...and pity her." Simeon laughed and straightened, raising his voice to a showman's volume yet again. "Oh, the tragedy! It moves me to the depths of my soul!" He threw his head back and laughed, a high, deranged cackle that was much unlike his usual suave, dulcet tones.

His laughter, however, was abruptly cut off by the dagger that whizzed by his head, just barely missing his ear - though the blade did take a lock of silver hair with it when it clattered to the floor several feet away.

"Damn," Therion growled from where he stood in the doorway, arm still extended from his throw. "Missed."

"Well now!" Simeon exclaimed brightly, spinning to face the thief. "Would you look at that, Lady Primrose, one of your little friends has returned! Alas, he has arrived far too late to prevent the poor girl's lifeblood from spilling out onto the floor…such tragedy!"

Therion pointedly ignored the man's fanatical ramblings and leaned back into the hallway, calling out as loudly as he could, "Alfyn! Olberic! Revello! Get your asses back in here, we've got more trouble!" Then, he withdrew his sword from his scabbard, carefully advancing on Simeon.

"Oh, how very frightening…" Simeon chuckled, nonchalantly watching the thief approach. "Does our newcomer think to play the role of the valiant knight rescuing the lovely princess from the fiercest of dragons? Not the actor I would have cast for such a noble role, to be certain…"

"Do you ever shut up?" Therion asked flatly, then lunged, swinging his sword at Simeon, though the deranged playwright deftly jumped backwards out of range.

"A bit too scruffy-looking to be a knight!" Simeon laughed, disregarding Therion's words entirely. "Far from poised or debonair, much too rough around the edges…no, I do believe I am safe in assuming that this fair lady will remain mine."

The thief scoffed, attempting another strike against Simeon, only to have him leap out of the way once again. "No offense, Mr. 'Dragon,' but something tells me she's not going to want anything to do with you ever again." He swung his blade once more. "Well…aside from taking your head off your shoulders, that is."

Simeon snorted, smirking. "Rather bold words for a scruffy knight aspirant…spoken from a place of jealousy, perhaps? What, is it too much for you to accept that such a lovely lady's heart lies with me instead of with yourself?"

Therion actually stopped attacking, staring at Simeon speechlessly for several seconds before finally shaking his head to clear it. "You are, without a doubt, the most delusional asshole I've ever met," he said, almost awestruck.

"Am I wrong?" the man asked amusedly, spreading his arms and walking backwards. "Did you think I did not notice the bitterness upon your face as you and your other little friends watched the reunion of dear Lady Primrose and myself back in town?"

"My face always looks like this," the thief deadpanned, lifting his sword once again. "Besides…I took you for a creep the moment I saw you. Thanks for proving me right, by the way." Therion lunged at Simeon again, and though the playwright did not dodge this time, he instead thrust his arm forward, shadows curling around his hand as he knocked the sword away with a burst of dark magic.

Several sets of footsteps pounded in the hallway outside of the room, signaling Alfyn, Olberic, and Revello's return. "What the - !?" the apothecary exclaimed as he reached the doorway first. "What's goin' on!?"

"My, my, it seems we've drawn quite an audience…" Simeon mused. "Then, alas, this is where I must make my exit. It was entertaining to fight with you, my unkempt, envious friend!" As Therion seethed, Simeon turned back to Primrose's collapsed form and smiled. "Fare thee well, my poor, poor love…"

With that, he spun on his heel and ran, exiting out through a hidden door in the back of the room. Therion attempted to follow, but was stopped by the cloud of swirling darkness that Simeon cast behind him in his wake. By the time the thick shadows had cleared, the playwright was gone.

"Damn it!" Therion cursed, roughly sheathing his sword. As he moved to go pick up his previously thrown dagger, he pointed at the fallen dancer and called out to his companions at the door, "Don't just stand there! Alfyn, Primrose needs help, now!"

Alfyn's eyes widened at the sight of the steadily expanding pool of blood beneath Primrose's body. "Prim!" he shouted, immediately dashing to her side and opening up his satchel.

"Lady Primrose!" Revello cried in horror, following the apothecary's lead.

Olberic, meanwhile, ran to Therion instead, reaching him just as the thief was putting away his dagger. "What happened here!?" he asked urgently.

"Simeon happened," Therion snapped, his expression dark. "The fancy-looking guy we met in town before. I stayed behind because I thought Primrose might do something stupid if we left her here alone…but then he showed up instead. I don't know if you happened to notice, but…there's a crow on his neck."

The warrior's frown deepened. "Then…he is the last one Primrose was searching for. The one who…"

"Who dealt the killing blow to her father. Yeah." Therion shook his head, grimacing. "He spilled it all, and I heard everything. He stabbed her at some point too, though she didn't scream when it happened…I had no idea what was going on until the bastard started monologuing."

"Should we not pursue him?" Olberic asked, glancing at the door through which Simeon had made his escape. "He cannot have gone far…"

The thief arched an eyebrow. "And what, chase him through the streets shouting for his blood? Sounds like an excellent way to get arrested. No…we'll make him pay, but later. We'll find him again once the others are all with us and Prim's recovered."

Olberic tilted his head a bit at the use of Primrose's nickname, which was a level of familiarity unusual for the sullen thief, but the warrior said nothing.

"In the meantime," Therion continued, oblivious to Olberic's puzzlement, "we should skip town the moment she's well enough to travel. There's no telling when that creep'll come after her again…not to mention the fact that he knows all of our faces. It's not safe here for any of us anymore."

"I agree," Olberic said. "We should probably find somewhere other than the inn to stay, as well…it is too public. Simeon would be able to find us there easily."

"You can stay at my home," Revello said immediately, evidently having been listening in. "As far as I'm aware, Simeon knows not of it…you will be safe there, and Lady Primrose will be free to recover at her own pace."

Olberic nodded respectfully. "You have our thanks."

The other man, however, shook his head. "Think nothing of it…it is the least I can offer after failing to protect Lady Primro - "

"It's no one's fault except the madman that just walked out of here," Therion cut in bluntly. "Don't waste time blaming yourself." Without waiting for a reply, the thief whisked away, heading for Alfyn, where he still tended to Primrose.

"How is she?" he asked, dropping to a kneeling position across from Alfyn. Primrose appeared fully unconscious now, though thankfully, her chest still rose and fell with breath.

"Not great, but could be worse," Alfyn replied nervously as he tightened a length of bandage around the dancer's stomach. "I've cleaned the wound and treated it against infections, as well as slowed down the bleedin' for now, but there's some damage in there that my herbs can't fix…we need to get her back to Ophilia, and quickly. Her healin' magic should help fix up all the internal wounds that the knife made as it went through." The apothecary glanced at the bloody dagger in question, which still lay abandoned on the floor nearby, and shuddered. "I won't lie to you, Therion…it's a pretty nasty wound. If we hadn't gotten back here as soon as we did, well…she'd be in a lot more trouble than she is now."

Therion was silent for a few moments, looking down at the sea of red staining the floor, Primrose's bandages, and Alfyn's hands. "...she's lost a lot of blood," he said lamely, for once unable to think of some witty quip or sarcastic jab. "Will she…really be alright?"

Alfyn nodded, though his expression was still grim. "She will be once Ophilia's done with her. Then…it's all up to Prim to pull through. But she's tough, we all know that…I think she's gonna be just fine." He sighed, almost bringing up a hand to rub at his forehead before remembering the blood still clinging to it. "At least…her body will be. Her mind and heart, though…that, I'm not so sure about. To be betrayed like that, almost murdered by someone she thought cared about her…shucks, I can't even imagine it…"

I can, Therion almost said, but didn't. His fist clenched around the hilt of the dagger at his hip, wishing he had thrown it just a little further to the right. An attempted murderer was one thing, but a traitorous one was another. Therion knew only too well the pain of trusting another person, only to have them turn around and stab him in the back.

Or, in his case, throw him off a cliff.

"You should've heard him," he growled, his visible eye narrowed into a jade slit. "The bastard was laughing. Prancing around and gesturing like he was performing a godsdamned play, all while Primrose was bleeding out behind him. Not to mention how he kept calling himself her 'one true love,' as though he hadn't just stabbed her. Tch…the man's insane."

Normally, Alfyn might've poked fun at the fact that Therion was so incensed, but in this situation, he felt the exact same way. Primrose was the first ally the two of them had picked up on their journey across Orsterra. The three of them (though Therion in particular would never admit it) had grown especially close thanks to their knowing one another for the longest stretch of time. Alfyn would just as soon deck Simeon directly in his grinning face as Therion would, and, had the circumstances been flipped, they both knew that Primrose would do the same for either of them.

"That's…vile," Alfyn said, grimacing as he cleaned the blood off of his hands. "How did he conceal all of that under that…that charmin' mask he showed us all before? Sure, I did think he was a little strange at first, but…I never would've imagined he'd do somethin' like this…"

"We'll have to kill him for it later," Therion grunted, ignoring Alfyn's slight uncomfortable squirming at the notion. "For now…let's get her the hell out of here. Revello said we can take her to his home - he seems to think she'll be safer there than at an inn, where we might be more easily found."

The apothecary nodded. "Good idea…I'll stay with her in case her wound gets worse before we can bring in Ophilia. You and Olberic can go and gather the others, then meet us at Revello's place as soon as possible, okay?"

"Sounds like a plan. Let's go."

()()()()

When Primrose finally awoke, the last thing she could remember was Simeon's face.

He was smiling at her. Smiling, and yet his eyes were cold. Smiling, and yet it was not his usual gentle grin, but a strange, manic expression, too wide and too bright and too close -

Her eyes fluttered open. She was awake, but still in a daze, her vision hazy and her head swimming with half-formed thoughts. Had Simeon been there? Had he truly worn such an unsettling, uncharacteristic expression?

…had he really stabbed her? Or was it all a dream?

As Primrose's awareness slowly seeped back into her, so did a jolting pain in her abdomen. She drew in a sharp breath, which only made the pain worse, though it did pull her somewhat out of the fog clouding her mind.

It was most certainly not a dream. No…that nightmare was all too real.

The dancer dared not move, lest she further aggravate her wound, but she let her eyes wander, taking in her surroundings with a sort of detached interest. She was not entirely sure where she was, but she was at least aware of the fact that she was lying in a bed inside of a house. Whose house it was, however, she could not say.

As Primrose glanced to the left as far as she could without having to move her head, she suddenly stiffened as she caught a glimpse of a shock of silver hair. Was Simeon here? Had he come to finish the job? Was he going to - ?

She blinked. On second thought…that hair was much too short and much too shaggy to belong to Simeon. Not only that, but as she looked closer, it more so appeared to be a soft white than a shining silver. Primrose finally dared to turn her head, now taking in the familiar lavender shawl and violet scarf as she got a proper look at the figure lounging in a chair near the side of her bed.

"...Therion," she whispered, her voice raspy from sleep.

The thief sat up straight, blinking in surprise as he looked down at her. "...you're awake," he said, his voice kept carefully neutral, though she could still pick out the relief hidden in his tone.

"How…how long has it been…?" the dancer asked weakly, almost dreading the answer.

Therion frowned. "...only a few days. You've sort of been in and out of it since then, but…this is the first time you've seemed really awake." He rubbed the back of his neck awkwardly, looking away. "Alfyn said that you lost a lot of blood…that it could've been really bad if it hadn't been for Ophilia's magic. That said, um…how do you feel?"

Despite the pain that still coursed through her, Primrose couldn't help but smirk. "You're…not used to this sort of thing, are you…?" she laughed softly. "I'm…alright, all things considered…I didn't expect to wake up to you as my bedside nurse, though…did you draw the short straw, or something…?"

"I…no, I didn't," Therion said defensively, though his scowl was half-hearted at best. "We've all been taking shifts…it just happened to be my turn to sit here while everyone else went to town to get supplies, that's all. Besides…it's not like I'm completely heartless…"

The dancer smiled slightly. "Don't worry…I know."

"Hmph…" Therion shook his head. "Anyway…we're going to be leaving town as soon as you're well enough to travel. We'll probably be heading for Wellspring next…Olberic's got business there and it's far enough away from here that our fancy little playwright friend won't be likely to find us again anytime soon."

Primrose didn't miss the venom in the thief's tone when he referred to Simeon. If she concentrated, she could vaguely recall hearing the two of them arguing after Simeon had stabbed her, but she had been so dazed at the time that she couldn't remember all of what either of them had said to one another.

That, however, was a question for another time.

"Mhm…where are we…?" she asked instead, managing to push herself up on her pillow a bit in order to get a better view of the room.

"Revello's house," Therion answered. "He and his wife have been letting us stay here for the time being, since we weren't so sure that the inn would be safe anymore. It's pretty damn crowded when everyone else is here, but…it's better than nothing, I guess."

"That's very kind of them…" Primrose murmured, even as her mind began to wander elsewhere. As the fog of sleep faded from her mind, an unpleasant mixture of despondency, anger, revulsion, and shame crept forward in its place. She could feel the ghost of Simeon's fingertips pressing into her jaw, hear his soft whispers into her ear, and see the manic grin on his face as he plunged a blade into her stomach.

All that he had done to her, the way he had effortlessly betrayed her without a second thought, changing her entire view of him far faster than she would have ever believed possible…she had no doubt that it would stay with her for a very, very long time.

The dancer couldn't even decide how to feel about it all. On one hand, she was furious at Simeon, for lying to her, for murdering her father, for very nearly killing her. She wanted to take up her dagger and slice it straight through that damned ink-black crow on his throat as payment for all that he had done.

Another part of her, however, simply felt hurt. All this time, she had thought that Simeon had considered her a friend, had secretly hoped that one day, it might turn into something more. And now, once she had finally reunited with him, her blood was on his dagger. Simeon had never genuinely cared about her - Primrose realized that now with a heavy heart. She had been a plaything to him, a puppet to dance on strings for his entertainment. A character to bend to the playwright's will.

As she looked back at all of his actions towards her in a new light, she was thoroughly disgusted.

He had taken advantage of her childish attachment to him for his own amusement. He had greeted her warmly after all these years, knowing what he'd done to her father and knowing that a few well-placed, charming words would put her under his spell once more. He had stabbed her, then still had the audacity to flirt with her and call himself her "one true love."

Primrose felt sick.

It must have shown on her face, because it didn't take long for Therion to glance sideways at her and frown, eyebrow lifting. "...you sure you're alright?" he asked, though it didn't sound like he was going to believe her if she answered affirmatively.

She gave a mirthless smile. "...I simply feel like a fool, is all. Looking back now…I don't know why I ever trusted that man at all…"

"It's a funny thing, hindsight," Therion said dryly, something unreadable in his eyes. "Once people show you who they really are, suddenly everything they've done in the past starts to make sense. Up until then, though…they tend to only show you what they want you to see."

"Mhm…you sound like you have experience in that matter…"

"Tch…let's just say I'm not exactly a stranger to deception."

"I see…"

It was clear that the thief would say no more on the subject, and as much as she was tempted to, the dancer did not press him. If Therion ever wanted to tell what he meant, then he would do so, on his own time.

Even if it took him years to work up the nerve to do it.

"In any case, though…" he continued, rubbing absently at his left eye, hidden under his long bangs, "...you're not a fool. The only way you'd be one is if you kept blaming yourself when clearly, none of what happened was your fault."

Primrose's smile became a touch more genuine at that. "Brusque as usual," she said softly. "Though I'll admit…after all of Simeon's empty, frilly words, a bit of blunt realism is rather refreshing. I appreciate it, Therion."

Was it her imagination, or did Therion's face redden a bit at that?

"Er…right. Happy to help. I guess."

The dancer chuckled slightly, then sighed. "Still, though…I can't help but feel ashamed that he was able to deceive me so easily. It was one thing when I was a child, but…I thought I knew how to tell a good man from an evil one. Yet Simeon was still able to blindside me…"

Therion frowned. "In all fairness, he took all of us by surprise. Granted, I'll admit I was suspicious of him from the start, but…well, you know me. That's just how I meet new people."

"Heh…I suppose that's true."

"But even then," the thief continued, "none of us could've known he was gonna do something like that, least of all you. The rest of us didn't know him at all, but you knew him as a good man in the past, so why would you suspect anything different? 'Course, all he really turned out to be was a good actor…and a complete madman underneath the mask."

Primrose sighed, bringing up a hand to wearily rub at her face. "You're not wrong," she admitted. "And I know I shouldn't agonize over it, but - "

"Then don't," Therion interrupted. "Don't agonize over it. Don't even pay that guy a second thought, unless it's about where best to stick a knife in him. Trust me, Prim, people like that aren't worth your time. He's a murderer and certifiably insane to boot. Let him take up space in your head, and he'll win."

Momentarily stunned by his vehemence, Primrose blinked a couple of times, then smiled. "My, Therion…you're awfully uplifting today. I might even go as far as to call some of your assurances rather sweet…"

Now it was Therion's turn to blink rapidly in surprise. "H-Huh?"

"In all seriousness…thank you," Primrose said. "Your words truly do mean a lot to me…and I am glad to have you by my side for this journey."

Therion's head lowered until his scarf concealed most of his face, and he mumbled something unintelligible that only barely sounded like the words, "You're welcome."

At the sight of his embarrassment, Primrose couldn't resist teasing him just a bit further.

"And if you're going to call me 'Prim' now, what should I call you? Theri, perhaps?" she asked mischievously.

"Wait - what!?" Therion's head jerked back a bit, allowing Primrose to catch a glimpse of his red-tinted cheeks. "Did I - !? I mean…you don't need to - er…"

Primrose laughed, though carefully so that her stomach did not jolt too much. "Like I've told you before, Therion," she said, a humorous glint in her eyes, "I wouldn't tease you so much if you didn't make it so easy…"

"Don't…don't do that," Therion grumbled, hiding his face in his scarf once more. There was very little bite in his tone, however, and his protests were half-hearted at best. "I don't see why you feel the need to mock me so often in the first place…what, is it just free entertainment for you?"

"Mhm, perhaps…" The dancer smiled and winked at him. "Or perhaps you merely look cute when you're blushing."

Now Therion's entire face was flushed red, and he stared down at her in what was either stunned embarrassment or abject terror. An odd response to a minor compliment, but then, it was Therion. The withdrawn thief did not seem to have much experience with positive social interaction.

Therion turned away, muttering something about a "scruffy knight" and "jealousy" and "that damned delusional bastard" into his scarf. It all admittedly sounded vaguely familiar to Primrose, but her memories of the time directly after Simeon stabbed her was hazy, so she couldn't place the full context.

Either way, though, it was amusing to watch the usually silver-tongued Therion stutter and squirm from something as innocuous as being called "cute."

"Alright, alright, I'll stop," Primrose chuckled softly. "I don't want anything to take away from the fact that I truly am grateful to you for your kind words and your help."

"Uh huh…" the thief mumbled. "Don't mention it. At least you seem like you're feeling better…well enough to make jokes at my expense, anyway."

Primrose arched an eyebrow. "Well, now…I never said it was a joke, did I?"

Therion gave her a suspicious look out of the corner of his eye, then shook his head, grimacing. "Always hard to tell with you…"

The dancer did not respond, but merely gave a soft smile. After all that she had just been through with Simeon, even a simple interaction such as this felt far sweeter than it might have a week before. This was how a conversation with a man was supposed to go, she felt. No manipulation, no theatrics, no insane laughter at her misfortune…only comfortable, straightforward words with a dash of friendly teasing.

True, it was a bit strange that it was Therion of all people that was able to connect with her, but if she thought about it, she supposed that it wasn't really all that surprising. The two of them were admittedly similar in demeanor, both of them having spent years building walls around themselves to prevent anyone from seeing their vulnerabilities. They also carried similar burdens, it would seem - though Therion refused to go into detail about his own past, his eyes were just as shadowed as Primrose knew her own to be.

Perhaps it was only natural that the dancer and the thief would be able to converse so easily like this.

"Anyway…" Therion mumbled, as though desperate to change the subject. "The others should all be getting back soon enough. Revello, included - apparently he was going to go try and see if he couldn't get one of Simeon's lackeys to tell him where the crazy bastard's going next. That way, we'll be able to avoid wherever that is until we're able to hunt him down and carve a new smile into his neck for him."

"Charming imagery, Therion," Primrose said dryly, "but…it's a good plan." She took a deep breath, closing her eyes through the wave of pain that radiated from her abdomen. "Simeon's revelation…in the end, it changes nothing. I vowed that I would have my revenge against all three crow-marked men, and have it I shall."

Therion snorted. "Hey, you won't find anyone else disagreeing with you. I think even Ophilia was just about ready to go on a rampage when she heard about what happened to you. We've all got your back, Prim…er, Primrose. Whenever you're ready, we'll find him and take him down."

Primrose smiled. Though her heart still ached with what she had learned, and her blood still boiled at Simeon's betrayal, Therion's assurances proved that there was still a bright spot amidst all this darkness. She had lost much throughout her life, but her traveling companions had all made it clear that they were not leaving her side anytime soon.

What had she done to deserve this group of seven wonderful friends?

"Mhm…I would love nothing more."

See you guys next time for Tale 13: Misfortune!