Chapter 21: Chapter 20

[Content Warning: abuse, violence, transphobia]

This was my chance, I realized. My opportunity to get his help with Lena's situation. The only concern I had was that he would consider it unimportant. It wasn’t exactly what he was asking for, I expected, but I worried that I wouldn't get another chance to bring it up otherwise. 

"I'm -- I'm not sure if this is the sort of problem that you'd care to look into. Or if you'd see this sort of thing as beneath a man as important as you." I knew how most viewed an issue like this. People got married all the time to those they didn't like or love. It was the way of things, especially with those of noble blood. It was part of their duty to the Empire, as Lena liked to readily remind me. But perhaps if I explained it just right, he would understand, he would get why I just couldn't let her marry that sadist.

He gestured for me to continue, a gentle and comforting smile spreading on his face, and so I did.

"You see, my friend Lena, her father, the Reeve, is forcing her to marry a boy that she hates.” I took a momentary breath, organizing my thoughts. “He's the sort of boy that pretends to be nice but in truth has a violent and cruel heart. The, umm, the sort of boy or man you wouldn't want in charge of a town, honestly. And I'm scared of what he'll do to her once they're properly married."

The Praevus rubbed his chin with a nod. "I understand. You fear for your friend’s future wellbeing. Perhaps I could speak with him, try to glean the nature of his character, and set him on the right path."

"I – no – umm," I stumbled out. How could I convince him that there was nothing he could do that would truly fix Silas – that once the Praevus left our small town he would simply go back to his normal ways. 

"Ah, you wish for me to end their betrothal? To go against the will of her father? Surely you don't think that I would presume myself to know better than her own family on what is best for the girl, or further, what is best for the town?"

My voice weakened as I said, "Her father isn't what he might seem. He cares mostly for himself and his own gain rather than anyone else." 

"I can see your point. Though, I am sure he likely has good reasons for their marriage. Reasons that may very well extend beyond your or my own small amount of knowledge. He is the Reeve here. I often find that even a selfish man still feels love for his daughter and wants what is best for her. And there is more to a marriage than simple love. The future of the town has to be considered as well." 

I looked down at the now-empty plate beneath me, having apparently already devoured the meal without truly realizing it. The conversation was going worse than I had hoped. Wasn't this sort of thing what he'd been just talking about? If Lena's father and Silas didn't count as the sort of men who sought after their own wealth and power at the expense of others, then who did? Unless I could come up with some argument that would convince him, it was beginning to seem that I would have to find a way to stop their marriage myself after all. 

The Praevus tapped his fingers along the desk several times as silence took over the large tent. I could feel the weight of his stare pressing against me. 

"Alright," he said. "I'll look into it, get an understanding of the situation, and take action should it be necessary. Perhaps you are right and something needs to be done."

My head tilted upward to meet his eyes once again. "You will?" Hope blossomed inside me. Was there a chance he would do something about it after all?

"Yes, having a marriage called off is a fairly simple matter for me. If I say that a betrothal is no more, then it will be no more."

I nearly melted in relief. "T-thank you. Silas really is a terribly cruel person. Lena deserves much better. Our town deserves better," I added. 

He gave me another smile. "I couldn't stand to see a girl like yourself in such clear distress. Though, I do expect he'll end up marrying another woman. Do not think this is an act of kindness. If he truly is as terrible as you say, then he will simply torment some other poor girl in your friend's stead. And she may be even less equipped to handle a boy like him than I expect your friend is. There is little I can do about that for now, however. So long as he has done nothing wrong, I have nothing to act against."

The distinctive feeling of guilt rose within me. Was this really the right thing to do? The Praevus was right in that I was simply shifting this problem onto some other unfortunate girl. Yet what other option was there? I wouldn't let my best friend end up married to that bastard. Even if she ended up furious with me over it. While I couldn't stop him from marrying another girl, I could at least stop this one. 

"I'm interested in hearing what else you know of the Reeve, but before we move on to that, there is one other subject I’d like to discuss," he said. "I understand that you've recently become a maid of Camilla's. If you don’t mind my asking, what brought on your change in profession? You were learning under your father beforehand, correct? At the library?"

I blinked and then nodded slowly. How did he seem to already know so much about me? And what else might he know, I wondered?  

A deep breath swam in and out of my lungs. Could I tell him the real reason I became a maid? If I was going to truly do this, this was the moment – the time for me to admit everything to him, to give him the truth. My lips parted to share my greatest burden and tell him of the curse that was slowly corrupting my spirit. 

Yet as I met his sharp but smiling gaze, I couldn't bring myself to voice it. Something, a feeling, held me back. I was unsure if it was the simple fear of admitting it out loud or something else, but the words refused to come. 

Instead, I said, “I wanted to experience something different. I mean, I love the library but I’ve always wanted to be a bit adventurous. Being the maid for a sorceress just seemed like a great idea.” The lie came easily. In a way, it was the truth, even, if not the whole truth. I'd always wanted an adventure. 

The Praevus nodded as he set his fork down next to his plate, eating the last bite of his meal. His elbow pressed down against the arm of his chair as he said, “A dangerous undertaking. I can understand the temptation, however. To be able to explore outside of your small town, to see the world, to learn of the wonders of dark magic.” 

He leaned forward over his desk, his face becoming slightly cast in shadow, as the glow of the lanterns passed by it. “Make no mistake, though. The Marked are not human. The popular notion that they are cursed by the gods is an apt one, regardless of whether you believe in its truthfulness. Once marked, they become corrupted, more like the beasts of the Deadlands than you or I.” 

I shifted in my chair uncomfortably. 

He looked off into the air, as though he could see all the way out to Deadlands, past the great Svelten Mountains, which kept the Empire mostly separated from those dark and deadly lands. 

“Do not be deceived by her charming demeanor. It’s a ruse that hides the snake lying beneath. It may be true that the Marked start off innocent enough, but the corruptive nature of their curse inevitably twists them into something much darker, more bestial. It is up to myself and those I lead to keep them in check – to make sure they do not stray from the path of righteousness and civility in our great Empire. A difficult but necessary task, and one in which I must stay vigilant.” 

“Then,” I hesitated, a hand gripping tightly into the chair as I carefully considered my words. “You really believe that the curse corrupts them?” 

He looked back toward me. “Oh, most certainly. It’s an inevitability. As useful and necessary as the Marked are to our Empire, keeping us safe from the creatures within the wastes and Deadlands that would bring ruin, they are a dark blight as well. One that needs to be carefully managed and tracked, lest it spread into a calamity of its own. The truth of the matter is that all Marked eventually fall to their bestial nature and must be put down. It is my duty as their keeper to pursue and cull their blight from this world when it becomes necessary.” 

I gulped and my head swam. It was all true then. I truly was cursed. The doubt that had begun to take shape in my mind was quelled. A darkness sat within me, prepared to twist my mind and soul. And Camilla – was it possible that she had already fallen, as the Praevus seemed to be implying? Was her cursed soul already corrupted, perhaps beyond repair? I’d begun to trust her, I realized. Trust that she was more or less who she appeared to be, a fairly kind and gentle girl with a determined and confident noble bearing. Could it all be a facade, as the Praevus was suggesting? A big part of me didn’t want to believe it. She didn't seem that way at all. And yet I'd only truly known her for a few days. How could I truly know?

He reached out, grabbing the hand I had clenched together on the table, having long dropped the fork to my plate. “Do not fear, my dear. The Marked are certainly a danger, but we keep a tight leash on them. They are not all so hopelessly lost to their natures as it may seem. Sometimes all one needs is a reminder of the humanity still lingering within them to keep in control of themselves. It is in this that I was hoping to receive your help. I have suspicions that Camilla is up to something troubling. As her maid, you are in a prime position to find out what that is, and with that knowledge, I can then set her back on the right path.”

My eyes widened. He wanted me to spy on her for him? 

His hand patted my own. “I understand that this may seem dangerous, but fear not, you will have me by your side. Mostly, I ask you to simply listen and report to me the things you hear from her. Be a good maid, gain her trust, but do not forget the danger she poses. There is one specific task that I would ask of you, however. I know that Camilla keeps a private journal. Tomorrow, I would like you to acquire it and deliver it to me while she is out.”

I thought back momentarily on my time with her. Several days ago, I’d noticed that she spent a few moments in the evening writing in what appeared to be a diary or journal of some kind, though I’d thought little of it until now. Would I be able to find or remember where exactly she kept it? I wasn’t entirely certain. 

More importantly, though, “You want me to – to steal from her? To take her diary?”

The Praevus waved a hand through the air. “Not stealing per se. Merely temporary borrowing. It will find its way back into her room before she returns that night. She’ll never know, and if she does, I’m certain she won’t suspect you of anything. She will most certainly blame me. I'll admit, there is likely little of use written inside the journal. She’s a smart girl and would be likely to keep any kind of obvious plotting out of it. But it may give me a clue or two to begin from.”

I bit my lip. Camilla possibly trusted me. Doing something like this – taking a girl’s private diary full of sensitive and personal thoughts – and giving it to someone else to read would be a huge betrayal. It was a terribly immoral thing to do, regardless of whether she was corrupted or evil. 

“I see you appear hesitant.”

“I…” My eyes stared into his, hoping to find something there. An alternative task perhaps. “I’m not sure I– Is there not something else…?” Cursed or not, she was still a person, still deserving to be treated with respect and kindness, I felt. Especially when there was no proof she'd done anything wrong, theoretical plans aside. I did not want to outright deny the Praevus, yet the thought of stealing it made me feel queasy. 

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The Praevus stared back, his normally joyous face instead neutral, almost calculating. 

“I understand. It’s quite the rude request of me to put on you so suddenly.” His fingers drummed out along the desk, the silence feeling strangely tense. “Of course, you’ve been quite rude yourself in our discussion, haven’t you?" I stared into his eyes, confusion spread across my face. "To outright lie to my face as you have.”

My heart skipped several beats, and my lips parted in shock, a wisp of air passing out of them. Silence once more took the room, like a foreboding sense of doom. 

The Praevus's hand, still around my own, patted softly against my palm. “I asked earlier that you be honest with me,” he continued, his voice calm and neutral, rather like a scolding parent. “Yet you boldly lied to my face. I’m good at spotting lies you see. It comes as part of the job, a very necessary trait to have when dealing with the sorts of creatures I must deal with. You, my dear, are a poor liar.” He held my hand firmly, keeping me from pulling away.

I gulped, my face becoming increasingly pale, as I realized the amount of trouble I was probably in. Lying to one of the Praevi? I might as well spit in the Emperor's face while I was at it. 

He gave me a small friendly smile that made my insides twist. “We all have things we wish to hide, secrets that bring us shame, and vices that we surrender to. I won’t pretend to know why you enjoy dressing up as a girl, prancing around in dresses as though it were natural.” 

My guts twisted from his words, and I wanted to curl inward, to hide from the all too familiar viewpoint. A small part of me felt relief at the fact that he wasn’t talking about my being Marked. It didn’t quell the feeling of humiliation that broiled within me from his judging words as he gazed at me from across the table. Somehow he knew I’d been born a boy. But how could he have after being here for less than a day? Did everyone know who I was? Was I that recognizable?

“I’ll admit, you play the part quite well, though. And I can understand why you would not wish for me to know. Quite the embarrassing and lascivious little secret you have." The corner of his mouth ever-so-slightly curved into what almost looked like a smirk, but not quite. "I care little for your deviancy, but I cannot abide by people lying to me.” The hand still gripping my own tightened, his nails pressing into my flesh painfully as my fingers were crushed. I squirmed from both pain and shock, instinctively trying to pull away and sucking in a heavy breath of air. “You will give me the truth,” he stated. 

I let out a shaky breath. Fear paralyzed me a moment later, as I worried he would force the secrets from my lips. “Y-yes,” I said with a wince. 

I prayed he didn’t know about my Mark. To think that just moments ago I’d been considering telling him. How had I thought that was a good idea? 

He smiled once more, and this time the casual friendly smile felt ominous, dangerous. “Good. Now do tell, why did you really become Camilla’s maid?” came the man’s jovial voice, as though nothing were wrong. 

The words that slipped from my mouth felt painful to say, somehow. “I – I wanted her help. And –” I took a breath, “I wanted to stop her.” It was basically the truth of it, despite leaving out several important details. I hoped it would be enough, desperate to not say the rest. 

“See, the truth is not so hard, is it?” His hand released mine from the painful grip, and I held my wrist to my chest, stretching out my throbbing fingers as relief rushed through me. “You thought she could help you in becoming a true girl perhaps?” I didn’t answer, staring down between my hand and the table. He seemed to take my silence as admission, to my luck. “A rather foolish and somewhat childish thought. Their magic is quite specific and limited, especially at the level of ability that Camilla has obtained. She would have no means to help you any more than the peasantry here. I assume you haven’t spoken to her about this?”

I lightly shook my head as I finally looked back up to him.

“Probably for the best. She’ll likely trust you more not knowing, especially after finding that you’d hidden such a perverse secret from her. We’ll need that trust.”

I couldn’t help but wince as his judging words stabbed into me, all the old and familiar feelings of shame and nauseous loathing quickly coming back to the surface. Feelings that I felt at my darkest and lowest moments. Feelings that I should have kept buried. Feelings that made me remember why I could never be a girl. 

I wanted to protest his plan once more, still not keen on the idea of stealing from her. But I struggled to voice it out loud, beaten down by the emotions rolling inside of me. My mind couldn’t help but swim as I thought back to the things my father had said, doubt clouding my thoughts. Could my father have been wrong? Or worse, was it possible that he was simply indulging me and my perversion, as the Praevus put it. Had he embraced it only because I was his child? Were the Praevus’s words the real truth of the matter? And what of the Vergent Souls he spoke of?

“I noticed earlier you said you ‘wanted’ to stop her, as in past tense. Has your mind been changed since?” the Praevus interrupted my thoughts, dragging me out of them. I couldn’t tell if he was oblivious or simply choosing to ignore my distressed state. 

My lips parted, as my mind went back over his question. 

“I… I don’t know,” I admitted. I didn’t know what to think anymore, about Camilla or even myself. 

“It seems that perhaps the sorceress has begun to ensnare your mind already, getting you to trust her, to see her as human. Not surprising, really,” he said with a twirl of his hand. “It is what their kind do.” 

I shook my head, but the protest felt weak. 

“Then this task shouldn’t be a problem for you, yes?” His face still held a small smile, a smile I now couldn’t help but feel was dangerous. 

“Of course, Praevus Emver.” 

My stomach felt queasy. Yet I couldn’t deny his request. I was no one, and he was the Praevus. 

“Excellent.” He gave me a large toothy smile. “I doubt you’ll have much trouble finding it. It is of course your duty to the Empire to assist me by law, but I hope you won't think of it in such a way. Consider it not merely your civic obligation, but instead more as an exchange of favors. For your help with the journal and your careful observation of Camilla, I’ll put an end to that troublesome little wedding. Does that sound like a fair deal?” 

I nodded, still feeling hesitant to speak. 

His fingers interlocked in front of him. “Now, why don’t we move on to what you know of those in town?”

– – –

For what felt like hours, he dug through my skull, sifting through all I could think to tell him about the people here. By the end of it, I was mentally exhausted, and itching to be anywhere else but there. I was very much relieved when he finally told me I was free to go. 

“I do hope you enjoyed your dinner. I’m quite looking forward to when we next meet,” he said. The man was leaning forward over his desk, his chin tucked underneath his hands as his elbows pressed against the wood below. 

“It was lovely.” I tried my best to keep the exhaustion from my voice, failing considerably. As I stood, my legs visibly wobbled. “Thank you for having me.” I fumbled through a stiff curtsy. 

He gave me a gentle smile, like one would give to a good friend, before wishing me a good night. Turning, I walked toward the tent’s flaps, lifting one side up and getting a taste of the brisk night air. 

“And Felix.”

I froze in step, my fingers tightening around the dress bundled up in hand. Slowly, turning my head toward him. 

“You are hiding something else from me, aren’t you?” We stared at each other for a moment, the breeze brushing the tent fabric against my legs. “I won’t be so crude as to ask you to tell me what it is. But, as a warning, those who lie to me do not do so more than twice, you understand?”

I licked my dry lips and gave him a small nod, muttering out some kind of affirmation before turning around, the tent’s flap falling into place behind me as I near-jogged away in haste. 

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