The Girls Are Back in Town

Elisa cleared her throat.

Kael didn’t look up immediately, still thumbing through some document or another, though the amused tilt of his lips told her he’d already noticed.

Fine. He could make this difficult, but she’d get through it.

"I need your permission for something."

That got his attention. Dark eyes flickered up, curious.

"Why do you have to ask me for permission?"

Elisa inhaled slowly, keeping her expression neutral. "Because you are a Count with vampire powers."

Kael raised a brow.

"I am proud of my martial abilities," she continued, folding her arms, "but against magic? That’s a bit of a reach."

At that, his smirk deepened, as if she had just handed him a personal victory.

"Please, do you think so lowly of me?" He sighed dramatically, setting the paper aside. "I love you, and I trust you."

Ah. There it was.

She ignored the way her brain tripped over that particular phrase and instead narrowed her eyes.

He smiled earnestly. "You clearly know the stakes of the region, and it’s not like the poison affected your ability to reason. You are Highcliff personified; you will fit right in."

That was a bold assumption.

“How are you so sure?”

"How do I put this… it is a so-called ‘collectivist’ culture, yes? You explained it to me excellently. The village’s needs over the individual’s. While that sounds horrendously bureaucratic, you helped me see its merits."

He gestured loosely. "As a result of those shared values, most girls in Highcliff grew up the same way. A tenant for physical prowess at high altitudes. You are practically the model Highcliff girl."

"Except for all the excess fat you stuffed into my musculature."

"Hey, don’t blame that on me. You are an adult; I don’t determine your diet. And you are not fat by any rational standard. Frankly, Highcliff girls are a bit too thin for my liking. The succubi of my homeland would be your closest comparison, and with the same martial prowess besides. They are world-renown for good reason…"

"Are you saying that I remind you of those damned demon seductress whores?"

“Whoa, now. Keep those thoughts to yourself at the wedding.” Kael took a slow sip of his wine, watching her with entirely too much satisfaction. "Physically speaking? Yes. You have a beauty that would ruin lesser men.”

“Those girls look about as useful as a silk cushion.”

“And I count my blessings every day."

He had the nerve to laugh.

It was needless to say that she didn’t trust him. Not really. 

A Blac’hil was still a Blac’hil. She didn’t want to broach that topic and whether he was aware what exactly the demons did their homeland. When brought with them both martial and magick to subjugate and rape the lands for all its worth. No doubt the Count was knowledgeable of such arts. Flame walls, wards to block incoming arrows, Hastening spells that make contact with the enemy combatant nigh-on impossible. All to fuel the guttering flame. 

The human Empires weren’t too gracious either, but at least they somewhat respected Highcliff’s identity.

Which was exactly why she needed to see things for herself.

Kael wouldn’t say it outright—whether because he truly didn’t believe it, or because he was too caught up in managing the region to notice.

But Elisa had a good read on people.

And if she knew anything, it was that Kael was too taut to pull off deception.

If he was hiding something, he’d give himself away through sheer rigidity.

No, if there was rot creeping beneath the surface, it was happening right under his nose.

Revenge is bad, it eats away at you, it’s a hollow pursuit, blah blah blah.

Cringeworthy.

If she ever started spouting nonsense like that, she hoped someone would put her out of her misery.

But, annoyingly, there was something else tugging at the back of her mind. Something worse than Kael’s insufferable smirks and the politics.

External forces were closing in on them.

And whether she liked it or not, killing him was starting to seem like the least of her problems.

“And you sure you don’t want the manor gryphon to take you down?”

“Don’t bother. I need the exercise.”

\\

Elisa adjusted her traditional headdress on her head—a Tullliar—fingers pressing lightly against the delicate embroidery. Hell of a contrast from the usual Highcliff accessory fare. This one was more fashion than sense.

She had never cared for ceremonial attire, but if she was going to walk among the streets of Highcliff, she had to blend in.

She turned to Cynthia, who stood at the doorway.

"Would you like to accompany me?" Elisa asked. "Two is a lot less suspicious than one. Especially since I’m wearing this."

She gestured vaguely at the headdress, the gold embellishments catching the dim light.

Cynthia gave a knowing smile, tilting her head slightly. "It is my duty."

"Is that your way of saying you don’t trust me wandering off alone?"

"It’s my way of saying you’ll find a way to get in trouble, and I’d rather not be responsible for dragging your unconscious body back to the manor."

Elisa rolled her eyes but couldn’t argue with that.

Before she could respond, a small, furred blur scrambled up onto the nearby table.

"Can I come?"

Elisa turned to find the same kobold that had climbed her bed now standing before her, its golden eyes wide with excitement.

It bounced slightly on its feet, tail swishing, clearly ready to hurl itself at her if she so much as hesitated.

Then, louder—"C-c-can I come, please?"

Elisa exhaled through her nose.

She would have to ask its name eventually. And figure out what exactly she had done with the demonkin in this manor.

But for now—

She glanced at Cynthia, who merely shrugged. And for some reason, a tad irritated.

"Sure."

"Yay!!"

\\

Elisa pulled the fabric tighter around her waist, scowling at her reflection.

Gods.

The last time she had worn this outfit, it had been practical, sleek, fitted perfectly to accompany her martial training. A second skin—stitched for speed, precision, movement.

Now, the seams strained.

The fabric hugged her in places it shouldn’t. The waistline pressed tighter than she remembered. The once-loose sleeves were snug, and her legs—damn it, had they filled out too?

She twisted, examining herself from different angles, as if the outfit would magically stop betraying her.

This was not her body. Years of careful discipline, of honed efficiency, replaced by something softer, fuller—something unapologetically delicate.

And worse—she hated how well it suited her.

A click of the door.

She barely had time to react before Kael stepped inside.

And froze.

Elisa turned just in time to see it—his expression going blank, his mouth parting slightly, as if his brain had momentarily ceased all function. His gaze flickered, not just to the fit of the clothes, but to the shape of her in them.

For a man so eloquent, so effortlessly smug—

"You… wuh?" He swallowed, visibly recalibrating. "You’re—wearing that?"

Elisa raised a brow, deliberately pretending not to notice the way his eyes hadn’t quite moved from her waist.

She crossed her arms, which, unfortunately, only made things worse.

His gaze flickered downward for a fraction of a second before snapping back to her face.

A slow, viciously satisfied smirk tugged at the corner of her lips.

"Problem, dear husband?"

Kael exhaled, a breath that came just a bit too unsteady for his usual composure.

“Perhaps your memory loss is the price I have to pay for being so lucky."

Ugh. 

“Can you stop making everything about yourself? You are not the one who lost five years of her finite human lifespan.”

\\

Kael almost let his nature get the better of him. Almost.

The bloodletting situation was getting worse. He is going to go feral at this rate by next week.

After all the reports had been done and sent out via falcon, he needed her to fulfil her marital Vows. And as pitiful as it was to say, he needed to find a way to woo his wife into letting him sink his fangs into her willingly. What an utterly deranged way to think of someone, let alone her.

The Vow worked in mysterious ways between vampires.

Typically, there was a third attendee when the bond was taken—a servant, blessed with high quantities of blood, prepared specifically for this purpose. A safeguard. A mediator.

But with them?

There had been no third servant.

And in the eyes of the High Lords, that meant only one thing. So, all he needed to do was recall what made them tick in the first place, what tactics he deployed, what…

Elisa...

All of that was derailed when he finally found her.

The words in his brain drifted away like a flock of mindless seagulls. Words from his throat little more than a thin veneer for him to cover up something more beast than human.