The Tower leaned against the wooden frame of the box, arms crossed, watching her silently as she tried to pluck the last strands of hay from her hair. His expression was hard to read, but if she had to guess, there was something in his grey-blue eyes that looked like genuine curiosity.

  "Why?" he finally asked, clearing his throat.

  Valentina looked up at him and threw the last straw on the floor. "Why what?"

  "Why are you really here?" He tilted his head slightly to one side. It was a gesture that seemed strangely thoughtful on a man of his size. "Most of them want something out of this. Stories they can tell their friends. Or they want to get back at their fathers." A snort escaped him. "One even wanted me to get her pregnant so she wouldn't have to marry the fat baron her family had chosen for her."

  "Definitely not as stupid as he looks ," Vyxara remarked in Valentina's thoughts.

  Valentina thought for a moment as she brushed the straw dust from her sleeves. It would have been easy to feed him some story, but that felt wrong. He had given her what she wanted. The least she owed him was a little bit of honesty.

  "I saw you at the tournament," she said simply. "And I wanted to know what it would be like."

  His bushy eyebrows rose slightly.

  "Just for fun?" He sounded incredulous. "That's all?"

  "That's all." Valentina held his gaze and spoke calmly, without shame. "No rebellion. No stories for my friends. I saw you, I wanted you, so I came."

  One corner of the Tower's mouth twitched upward.

  It wasn't a smile, not really, but it was the closest thing she had ever seen from him.

  He gave an approving grunt. Nothing more. Not even a word, just a sound, but it seemed appreciative.

  Valentina reached for her cloak, which had fallen carelessly on the stable floor, and shook it out before draping it around her shoulders.

  Then she pulled the hood over her head and turned toward the door. The Tower nodded curtly to her, and she slipped through the stable door into the cool night air without looking back. The courtyard lay silent before her, and the main house was now completely dark. She moved quickly across the grass, placing each step carefully until she reached the tree.

  Climbing was a little harder than before. Her body ached in a pleasant way, and her muscles protested a little as she pulled herself up the branch. The Tower hadn't exactly been gentle.

  "No, he wasn't. And he didn't even ask your name. But that's exactly how you wanted it ," Vyxara chuckled.

  Valentina smiled under her hood. The demon was right.

  She reached the wall, swung herself carefully over the iron spikes, and slid down into the dark alley on the other side. Her feet hit the ground, and a pleasant tugging between her legs reminded her how thoroughly she had been taken.

  She pulled the Schate pattern back around her and began her way back through the night streets of Vandercourt.

  "That was refreshing ," Vyxara sighed contentedly in her mind. "I wish we always had a guy like that around."

  "Don't get greedy, Vyxara."

  Vandercourt was practically empty. The late hour had driven even the most stubborn revelers to their beds or the gutters, and only a few shadows still scurried through the alleys. People who probably didn't want to be seen any more than she did.

  Valentina ran as fast as the pleasant burning of her overstretched muscles would allow. Her body ached in a way that made her smile.

  "You walk funny ," Vyxara remarked amusedly.

  "A little, I guess. I'm pretty sure I'll have bruises on my hips," Valentina thought back.

  "Oh, yes, that was heavenly! Did you notice that his hands almost fit around your waist?"

  "I didn't pay attention to that. I was a little distracted at the time."

  But much more impressive than the physical aftereffects were the emotional ones, which, in contrast, did not subside but seemed to swell even more. It was as if more and more doors were opening at once, through which she could walk. She might see him again one day. Or never again. It wouldn't matter.

  This freedom was intoxicating.

  "Isn't it? No emotional baggage ," Vyxara continued her silent thoughts enthusiastically. "No long-term commitments, no expectations, no debts that have to be repaid at some point. You took what you wanted and left. It's that simple. Done and gone."

  "It feels liberating," Valentina admitted.

  "It is liberating. And it's a lesson you should internalize. You can want different things in different ways, and you don't need to be ashamed of it, because it's not wrong. There's no right or wrong for what you want. You want what you want. What you feel for Innogen is real, and you shouldn't compare it to anything else, but accept it as it is and willingly take what she wants to give you. The same is true for Lorenzo."

  "But that's not fair! I can't just think about what I want and what I can take from Innogen or Lorenzo, without thinking about what they want?"

  Did you know this story is from Royal Road? Read the official version for free and support the author.

  "Of course not. But with all my insight into your thoughts, feelings, and memories, I don't get the impression that you need to learn to give. You do that all the time. You give everything, even to the point of self-sacrifice. But taking what is willingly given to you, without feeling guilty, is difficult for you."

  Valentina thought about this as she scurried through a narrow alleyway that reeked of cat urine. Vyxara was right. The complicated feelings she had for Lorenzo and Innogen, the delicate bonds that had formed between them, were real, not a sham. They were just different from what had just happened in the stable. They belonged in a completely different category.

  She could have both, she was allowed to want both. She didn't have to force herself to choose between them. Both desires were true. Both desires were her. And when she realized that, she was overcome with a sense of relief that almost brought tears to her eyes.

  ~

  When Valentina finally reached the Greystone townhouse, everything was dark. Only one window still had a small light burning. Cosimo's study.

  "Late for him ," Vyxara remarked. "He's usually in bed by this time. His or yours."

  Valentina frowned. The duke had been tense the last few days, she had noticed, but it was indeed unusual for him to be working so late.

  She maintained her Schate pattern as she approached the side entrance. Better to enter unseen, regardless of who else was awake. She opened the lock with a tried and tested Essence pattern and slipped through silently, before she locked it again.

  Like a ghost, she moved through the familiar rooms, and only when she approached the staircase leading to the bedrooms did she hear voices.

  Cosimo's study was only a few steps away, and she recognized his frustrated voice immediately.

  Curiosity overcame her. She activated her Essence Listening, and Cosimo's voice became clearer, as if she were standing right next to him.

  "-I just don't understand what he really wants." His voice sounded exhausted and irritated at the same time. "His official objections are complete nonsense. He can't tell me that bollocks. I could maybe almost buy that he's singing such a lament about the burden for the serfs and free farmers, but now he's started bringing up that the higher taxes would hurt the craftsmen in the big coastal cities, that's really too much. What is this ridiculous charade? Farnsworth has certainly never wasted a single thought on the people in the coastal regions in his entire life."

  "Maybe he changed his mind?" It was Lorenzo, his voice sounding calmer, more thoughtful, but he didn't seem convinced.

  A bitter laugh from Cosimo. "By all the flames of the Martyr, boy, please, this naivety will kill you some day. People like Marquess Ivor Farnsworth-" he spat out the name with considerable contempt "-don't change, and certainly not their opinions. He has another reason, and I'd damn well like to know what it is."

  "So it's the Marquess of Coldby who's causing trouble ," Vyxara murmured in Valentina's mind. "And our dear Cosimo doesn't know why."

  Valentina remained motionless in the shadows and continued to listen.

  "He's mobilizing the commons in Parliament," Cosimo continued. "The guilds, the city representatives, they all listen to him. Even a few of the local gentry. And he's good at rabble-rousing, I have to admit. He presents himself as the gallant voice of the people and protector of the weak against the greedy magnates."

  "Father, maybe you should talk to him directly. Face to face, in private."

  "I've already tried that!" Cosimo's voice rose before he apparently regained control. "He evades me, the pathetic weasel! Smiles his stupid smile and talks about the good of the realm, that cheeky son of a bitch. But there is something! Something personal, Lorenzo. Something he doesn't want to or can't say publicly, something that embarrasses him, if you ask me."

  "A hidden motive, how exciting ," whispered Vyxara. "Perhaps we could find out what it is?"

  Valentina's interest was piqued. And it was an opportunity to make herself useful. Outside of bed.

  "We need his support," Cosimo finally said, exhausted. "Or at least he needs to keep his big mouth shut. If he continues to lead the opposition, the whole thing could fail."

  "And then all our work would have been for nothing," Lorenzo added.

  "Not just our work. The king's plans. Everything. It would be a disaster. I'm not even sure I should inform His Majesty about this. I'm afraid he would consider very drastic measures."

  Valentina had heard enough. She slipped out of her hiding place, ended her Essence Listening, and continued on her way to the stairs. The voices grew quieter until they were just an indistinct murmur.

  "This could be interesting ," Vyxara said as Valentina climbed the stairs. "Farnsworth is hiding something, and we have our ways of finding out these things."

  "Maybe tomorrow," Valentina thought back. "Tonight, I just want to sleep."

  Her chamber lay silent and dark before her, and as she closed the door behind her, she finally let go of the Schate pattern. The tension she had been maintaining fell away from her, and she stood there for a moment, taking a short breath before peeling off her cloak and dress.

  Valentina poured water into the washbowl and cleaned the dried remains of the night from her thighs. In the faint moonlight that fell through the window, she could see the marks on her body. Fingerprints on her hips, already turning dark, scratches on her thighs that she only now noticed, and a slight redness between her legs.

  She looked at the marks for a moment and ran her fingers over them with a tired smile. Souvenirs, in a way, but souvenirs she was not allowed to keep.

  Then she formed a simple Leb pattern and directed the healing flow of the Essence to her skin. The bruises slowly faded, the slight scratches closed, and within a few moments her body was flawless again, as if nothing had happened.

  "You're healing them away?" Vyxara asked, sounding almost disappointed.

  "I can't afford to keep them," Valentina thought back as she slipped into her nightgown. "If Margaret dresses me tomorrow and sees these marks-"

  "She'd think they were from the duke and keep her mouth shut, but the duke himself would wonder, of course. I see your point. Still, it's a shame."

  She climbed into bed, and the cool sheets felt heavenly on her heated skin. Valentina closed her eyes. The Tower had probably long forgotten she existed and was already lying in his narrow bed, snoring.

  She realized she didn't mind. On the contrary.

  "Sleep now ," Vyxara murmured, and the demon's presence softened, warming like a blanket wrapping around her mind.

  Valentina felt sleep overtake her, gently and inexorably, and her last conscious thought was surprisingly not about the Tower, nor the duke, nor Lorenzo, nor even Innogen.

  Instead, she wondered what secret Farnsworth was hiding.