Chapter 151: Book 7 Chapter 12

Spinny spinny dress go spinny spinny spinny dress spin!

Joan couldn’t help it. She looked positively breathtaking. She’d never, in her entire life, seen a dress so pretty and gorgeous.

Okay, she had. But this dress was different. THIS dress was hers. Forever hers. It’d be coming home with her, it hadn’t belonged to anybody else. It would go into her room and only be taken out and worn by her. It wasn’t even that much different from the dress she’d had when she was visiting Korgron’s city, complete with the split down the middle and the leggings. Except this dress was a dark red and seemed to glimmer whenever the light touched it just right. She didn’t know what material it was or how they managed to make it do that, but she knew one thing.

It was hers and it was gorgeous. She did another little spin in the small room, struggling to suppress the urge to squeal. She’d need to see if she could get Korgron to use her mirror spell later so she could see how she looked in it.

“Joan? Are you okay?” Vivian asked.

“I’ll bet she’s spinning,” Bauteut said in a teasing tone.

“I am not!” Joan lied, her cheeks burning. “I was just making sure that I had a full range of motion, that’s all.”

“Well? Do you?” Bauteut asked.

“Yes,” Joan said before opening the door to the small changing room. “How do I look?”

“You look absolutely precious,” Vivian said.

Bauteut, however, was just staring at her. Joan waited a few moments, eyeing her. Finally, she gave a light sigh and spoke up. “Well?”

“Huh?” Bauteut asked.

“How do I look?” Joan asked.

“Fine,” Bauteut said before quickly looking away. “You look fine.”

Joan felt a small knot in her stomach and sunk just a little bit. “I just look fine? That’s it?”

“How long until the armor is done?” Bauteut asked quickly.

“They said a few more days,” Vivian said before glancing down at Bauteut. An amused smile formed on her lips. “I see. Well then, I think that’s the last one for now. Do you have anything you need fixed before we leave?”

“No, they’re perfect,” Joan said softly, though she barely managed to keep the disappointment out of her voice. The tunics, breeches, simple stuff had all been met with approval from Bauteut. So why was her new dress, the one she’d be wearing to the celebration, met with only a ‘fine’. She didn’t want to be fine. She wanted to be breathtaking. “Mostly. Does this one really look that bad on me?”

“It doesn’t look bad on you!” Bauteut said, her cheeks only getting redder. “I’m going to go check on Qakog. Make sure he hasn’t managed to stab anyone or something.”

“More like he’ll get stabbed,” Joan muttered before glancing down at herself. She thought she looked pretty good in it, but did she really look that terrible? Bauteut hadn’t been able to get away fast enough. She gave a soft sigh before walking back into the room. “I’m going to go change, I’ll be ready to go in a minute.”

“Of course,” Vivian said. “I’m going to go have a little talk with Bauteut, okay?”

“Okay,” Joan said before walking back into the room and leaning against the wall. She reached down and tugged on the gentle frills of the dress. What was wrong with her wearing something like this? She’d worn it in the demon lands just fine, Bauteut had thought she looked cute then.

No. Bauteut looked like she was going to laugh then. And there weren’t any fake demon horns. It wasn’t that long ago, though. At least not to them. For her it was a bit longer, but that didn’t matter. Besides, Bauteut was one of the ones who was always nudging her and telling her to try and relax more. What was more relaxing than wearing a pretty dress and spinning around a few times? Nothing. Noth--

Ugh, what kind of hero was she? Wasting time on something like this. She only had a few months left if they didn’t find Chase. So what did it matter if she had a pretty dress or not? What did it matter if Bauteut didn’t think she looked good in it?

It did matter to her, though. No matter how much she tried to ignore it, she knew it did. Joan reached up and tugged at her hair a little. It was so short and plain, like her. How she wished she could be like Myrin, beautiful and radiant, the kind of person who drew every eye from miles away. Or Korgron, so breathtaking and awe inspiring that you couldn’t look away even if you wanted to. No matter how pretty her dress was, it didn’t change the fact that she wasn’t. She just needed to stop trying, or caring if she was. She could save the world and then worry about if she looked cute enough to draw the eyes of her crushes.

Joan cringed and felt her cheeks start to burn. No, she really couldn’t think on that now. The last thing she needed to think about was how she felt about that kind of stuff. Besides, she didn’t even want any romance in her life. She’d hated it so much when she was the Hero, so why would she want it now?

She paused and glanced at the small stack of clothing she had. The clothes were so much different from the stuff the Hero had worn. They were nice enough, but the Hero had only worn the best. He was a symbol. Everything he’d done had secret meaning, whether he wanted it to or not. Even the most benign, simple choices could have such wide reaching effects and he had always felt so choked by those choices. Relationships, especially romantic ones, were no exception. He’d always felt that he had to have something, everyone was watching him. Judging him. Measuring him. If he didn’t play to that role, didn’t act like the unstoppable, virile, romantic and charming Hero, people would worry what was wrong. Fear for themselves. Lose faith.

But Joan wasn’t the Hero. People watched her, but not everybody. Some people judged her, but not everybody. While she didn’t get the constant praise and adulation that the Chosen received, she also didn’t have every move watched by the masses constantly. If she fell in love, got married, had children, had a family, nobody would care. Nobody would judge her aside from, possibly, her connection to Hardwin. The world wouldn’t be staring at her.

Joan felt a small rush of excitement bubbling up inside her. Nobody would care. She could fall in love with anyone she wanted. Heck, she could fall in love with as many people as she wanted. Human. Elf. Dwarf. Demon. Heck, even fae or changeling. It didn’t matter. She wasn’t a shining beacon for anybody. The Chosen might care, but only if she did something stupid or put herself in danger doing it. Nobody was going to make her feel terrible for daring to fall in love with the wrong person.

She wasn’t the Hero anymore, for good or bad.

So who cared if Joan had a few crushes? So what if she was getting a crush on Bauteut, the girl had been there for her for so much, even when she didn’t deserve it. She’d let herself get sucked into this entire mess with barely an objection. Allowed herself to be a part of it, regardless of the consequences or dangers. Supported her. Cared for her. Who wouldn’t start to adore that?

Besides, it wasn’t like she was the only one. Joan felt her cheeks going even redder when she considered another growing crush of hers. Searle. Through all of this, he should have been the one who she trusted the least. Yet, at every single turn he had supported her. Believed in her. Trusted in her. Protected her. He had been the one to rise up and save her on more occasions than she could remember. He was a bit over protective, sure. But he also believed in her. More than any of them.

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She also had a crush on Myrin and Korgron, but who could blame her? They were both so beautiful and radiant. Myrin was calm and gentle, like a cooling stream that washed away all of your negative feelings. Korgron was like a raging inferno, powerful, awe inspiring, yet still warm and protective. But it felt different. They felt more like family than anything else. Like sisters, even.

A lot like how she felt about Thalgren, Andreas and Hardwin. She’d had close relationships with most of the Chosen, incredibly close. Sometimes romantic, sometimes beyond. But she didn’t really want that now. They felt like family. Close ones. Ones she had hurt and torn apart, albeit accidentally. Ones she never wanted to hurt again and would do anything she could to ensure they were safe.

So why Searle? Was it because he was closer to her age? Or was it because she knew the others, saw them in so much they did, but Searle felt entirely new? He wasn’t that weak, pathetic, annoying little kid who always got in their way and offered nothing. He’d never been that, the Hero had just been too wrapped up in himself to notice what he really was. To accept that, maybe, they needed a shield.

The Hero had known so little about the Chosen, had misunderstood so much. Joan had. In a lot of ways they all felt new, echoes of themselves. But Searle was the only one who she couldn’t fully predict or say she understood. Yet he was the one she now trusted more than ever. Was it any wonder she was starting to have feelings for him? Even now, despite everything she had told him, everything the Hero had done to him, he still supported her. He was still so worried about betraying her and being her ‘killer’. How had the Hero managed to push him so far so often?

Then there was all of the people she was getting crushes on who weren’t the Chosen or Bauteut. She swore it felt like half the people she met could get her to start squirming and her cheeks burning before she knew it. Even Qakog, someone who had annoyed her so much at first, she was struggling to dislike. Sure, he was obnoxious at times. But there was something really nice about having someone who saw her as the greatest woman to ever live. She did feel a little guilty considering he was supposed to be Korgron’s future husband, but it wasn’t like Korgron minded. She just seemed to find it cute. Then again, Korgron was Korgron. The Hero had never spent much time even considering the relationship those two had shared, so there was no telling how it had all come about. Even if he had, the two wouldn’t have gotten together for well over a decade.

Joan gave a soft sigh. She was a mess. A total mess. How could the fate of the world rest on the shoulders of a girl who didn’t understand herself, let alone the machinations of gods, demons, fae and the fates? Even worse than that, she doubted it would get much better when she was an adult. The Hero had sometimes lived into a very old age and he had not been any closer to understanding all of this than she had. He had just been better at shoving it aside and pretending it didn’t bother him.

Maybe that was the issue. She was too efficient. If she just focused a little less on making sure things didn’t spiral out of control too quickly, maybe there would be enough troubles going on that Joan could focus on them rather than consider her own emotions and who she did and didn’t like. Even if she did like them, what could she do about it? Tell them? ‘Hey, I like you, a lot, and do you think maybe you could like me?’ Yeah, that wasn’t going to happen. She wouldn’t even need to wait for the Inferno God to kill her, she’d die of shame right then and there.

Besides, it wasn’t like they all had feelings for her or anything. Sure, Qakog adored her. Searle definitely had feelings for her, but she’d constantly told him to go forth and have fun. He was the Chosen, he could have anything he wanted. Ugh. She wished she could talk to Bauteut about this. She was always the one who helped her deal with these things. But her healer probably didn’t feel that way at all. She hadn’t even thought the dress looked good. It--

Joan blinked a few times and felt her cheeks going bright red. Bauteut was always quick to tease her or give her a snarky response. She hadn’t just thought Joan looked ‘fine’. She’d been flustered. She’d been so red faced and--

“Oh my gosh,” Joan whispered. Was that why Bauteut had wanted to leave? Had she been starting to crush on her and the worries about her not being capable of it were just the easiest excuse?

“Gahhhhh!” Joan gave a confused, annoyed, angry whine. She didn’t understand any of this! Why couldn’t it be easy? She had to save the world and not worry about all of these things. She needed advice. She needed good advice. From people who knew these things better than her and she could trust. Who weren’t Bauteut.

“Joan? Is everything okay? Do you need a hand changing?” Vivian asked.

“What? No,” Joan said quickly before shaking her head. “Almost done.” Right, she needed to change first, then she could focus on who to talk to about this.

Though, it didn’t take long before the answer hit her.

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Joan watched from outside the room while the three Chosen sunk into their chairs. They were now freshly clean but, obviously, exhausted. Joan couldn’t help feeling a little guilty seeing them so tired. But hey, everything was done now and they had managed to do it all in a record setting time.

Granted, she wasn’t sure how she felt about the trident, golden skull or coral flute they’d just chucked into the corner of the main hall when they’d arrived and not touched since. Ancient, priceless treasures that were each worth the price of a kingdom or two alone? Just chuck them in the corner like dirty laundry. Still, she knew better than object. It wasn’t like the Hero had been any better.

“I think I’m going to sleep for a week,” Myrin said before lightly poking at her plate. “Does she always run us this ragged?”

“Only for a bit,” Korgron said. “Though, this time it seemed she was extra efficient. I’m not sure if that’s good or bad. I guess I invited this on us myself.”

Searle didn’t say a word, he just snored lightly in his chair, not even touching his dinner.

Joan gulped and nervously stepped into the room and glanced around for a moment to be sure they were alone. “Korgron? Myrin? Can, uhhhh, I ask you some things after you eat?”

Korgron gave a sigh and shook her head. “Joan, we’re done for the day. If you’ve got anything else, it can wait until tomorrow. Okay? I just want to finish my food and then sleep until noon. I’m not sure which day.”

Myrin just gave a small grunt.

Searle didn’t stir.

“Oh, uhhh, right,” Joan said sheepishly, her cheeks burning red and she quickly glanced away. “I just needed to ask you for some, uhhh, relationship advice.”

Aside from Searle’s snores, the room was silent. For a few moments Korgron didn’t move, but slowly the most wicked and evil smile Joan had ever seen her wear formed on her lips. “You know what? I think I just got my second wind. Myrin?”

“It can’t be any worse than the kraken,” Myrin said with a small shrug. “After dinner, though.”

“Right, of course,” Joan said sheepishly. “Only if you’re up to it.”

She wasn’t certain, but she was pretty sure she could see Korgron’s tail actually wagging a little bit. Well. At least between the two of them she knew she likely wouldn’t be teased too terribly. Hopefully.