“Everyone always fears those who do what they want and act as they please; they label us nuisances at best and more often will simply call us insane. Really, it’s their own fault I’ve gone and decided to lean into their expectations.”

  -Ma?ji?ya?gbe? Poyinm??la? Ro?shi?ji Ewu?ba?jo?, paladin of Muzen-Cab

  What followed in the coming days was an exercise in mundanity. There were limits to how much Dahlia could distract herself with plans for an unknowable future or magic theory that couldn’t yet be put into practice. Add on how her body ached with the growing need to use her mana and it was the perfect recipe for the girl to find herself wasting the days away in bed.

  The greatest highlights in those long days came from viewing the world through mana infused eyes, both reducing the strain ever-so-slightly from her excess mana and letting her catch glimpses of a gorgeous world she was still gradually getting to know. Occasionally, on especially lucky days, she’d even catch one of her parents scrying on her; the clunky constructs of magic, likely formed through a cheap relic, created gorgeous displays of motion and colour in a way mundane sight could never detect nor enjoy.

  Unfortunately, these more exciting episodes were far rarer than the girl would have liked — the relic being used infrequently due to either its poor make or her father’s desire to see her as little as possible. Either way, it had led to days crawling by and all Dahlia could do was sleep, read something dreadfully boring, and then sleep again in an endless cycle of listless boredom. With how little the girl exerted herself, it was nearly an exercise in futility to attempt to sleep so much. It was only thanks to an old Starukovian autobiography from 260 PK —a time that should have historically been exciting yet was somehow miraculously dull— that led to the girl enjoying far more sleep than she otherwise might have.

  And it was from one of those much-desired sleeps that the girl woke up one day, the sounds outside her room alerting her well before anything else. She considered getting up and making herself presentable but could hardly be bothered. Days had quickly added up and now over a fortnight had passed and her body ached in a way that made her lose all pretense with patience. Her parents had no interest in entertaining her hopes of appeasing them, and so she would no longer put on a kind face pretending that everything was alright. She was well aware that it was the morning of her debutante and whatever ruckus was going on outside was no doubt related to that but, perhaps in her own small slice of rebellion, the girl refused to make things easier than they needed to be.

  As time passed, the noise only grew and, with it, the giggles, chirps, and whispers from a gaggle of maids was enough for the girl to raise an eyebrow in surprise. Now that warranted some more attention. Regardless of how meaningful debutantes were supposed to be, she doubted any of her parents’ staff would get so excited about interacting with her. And yet, there they were, just outside the door and tittering together as if actually excited to be there. Frankly, it seemed absurd.

  All of a sudden however, all the sounds of excitement came to a close as a voice lashed them into silence. Even through the door the voice was clear enough and Dahlia couldn’t restrain her smirk as she listened.

  “Are all of you prancing about and gossiping while being paid because you take me for a forgiving woman? Would any of you like to test that further? No? Excellent! You see, I’ve been in a rather pleasant mood recently and would hate for you all to spoil it. Now, why don’t you all stop rubbing mint and get the girl prepared for her big event. If you do it without a fuss or asking me any unnecessary questions, I might not even punish you later. See, aren’t I generous? Now get a move on.”

  It was unusual to say the least, hearing her mother lay into others rather than herself, but Dahlia couldn’t bring herself to feel bad. The woman, for all her many faults, had a variety of scathing condescension that was far too enjoyable when directed at those who had previously done her wrong. Nonetheless, hearing her mother’s voice hadn’t been something she anticipated and she hunkered down deeper into the bedsheets nearly on instinct. She didn’t fear the woman, not in the same way she feared her father at least, but the Baroness’ cruelties came like a storm and the girl knew instinctively to try and take shelter.

  As the door opened and maids flooded her room however, it wasn’t a cruel remark that met her but a snort. Dahlia tried not to react to the sound but it was… wrong. The kind of indelicate sound her mother would never make, and yet—

  “Oh please, you might act like a scared rodent at times, but seeing you hide under your covers is just sad. Get up girl, I know you’re awake and I’d rather you didn’t waste my time.”

  Dahlia suppressed her frown, all while wondering how the woman seemed so certain she wasn’t asleep; the girl wasn’t exactly known for being a light sleeper and Sabrina’s tone was far more confident than it ought to be. Despite those questions though, she pulled herself free from the covers and looked at the woman before her.

  Her mother looked back, irises like molten gold meeting her own, and a faint smile never leaving the Baroness’ lips. She was… different. She carried herself with poise similar to usual and yet there was something far more languid and natural to it. Small mannerisms that might have been stiff before had been smoothed over along with the woman’s personality, and there was no mistake there: while sadism still danced in her eyes, there was a touch of something else that made it feel far less… angry, for lack of a better word. Perhaps to outsiders, the change would have been too small to matter, but to Dahlia? She knew her mother’s moods like the back of her hand, and what she saw now matched none of them. Perhaps some would have seen that as a positive, but to Dahlia the change only raised red flags. With that uncertainty, the girl immediately began to have second thoughts about the acts of rebellion she planned and could feel herself begin to fall back on rote routine as she spoke up.

  “Good morning mother. To what do I owe the honour of seeing you in person? I was expecting the maids, but—” and yet she cut off just as fast as she started, her mother's tone almost lazy as she interrupted her.

  “Oh, that’s enough of that. Don’t go acting polite and humble on me girl; I can’t say I’m in the mood to play pretend. I’ll be needing to put on a facade more than enough at the debutante regardless so I’d rather skip all the meaningless pretenses.”

  The girl blinked slowly and tried to control her reaction. Whatever had gotten her mother into a mood, it now left Dahlia stranded and with no understanding of what the hell was happening. Discarding pretense with the Baroness wasn’t just unusual, it was unheard of; the fact that she was the one prompting it, along with the rest of her unanticipated shift in behaviour, made everything seem far less certain than the girl would have liked. Seeing Dahlia's hesitation though, the woman’s grin only grew wider.

  “Hmm? Oh, that got to you, did it? Well, I won’t say no to learning new ways to get better reactions out of you.”

  The woman had an almost playful glint in her eyes, though it quickly flickered to annoyance after the maids continued to titter and gossip as they prepared makeup, jewellery, clothing, and more. Her mood pivoting in an instant, the Baroness snapped at the women behind her.

  “I thought I told you all not to test me! Rosali, Adina, Estelle, you three alone will help the girl get prepared while everyone else can leave. Now. And Estelle, you pompous wannabe, if I see you try and take even a single piece of jewelry I’ll cut off your hand myself, understood?”

  She cast a smile at the maids, all of whom had gone deathly quiet with one looking near sickly before she turned her attention back to her daughter, a wide grin once again directed at the girl.

  “These three will do just fine, not to mention I’m certain none of them would risk spreading rumours about what they hear today unlike some of those other gossips." She trailed off smiling meaningfully even as the three remaining women began to resume their work, all of whom looking nervous and desperate to keep their heads down and remain silent. "What do you think, girl, isn’t it so much more relaxing to know that you can speak freely?”

  All the while, Dahlia had been watching her mother and was almost prepared to bolt. Only the lack of means of escape and need to keep her parents satisfied kept her locked in place but, even then, she had no clue how to respond. She believed she was skilled at reading other people. She should have been good at reading people. And yet the woman before her practically bordered on being a stranger. Her mouth opened, one moment away from trying to resume the act of a good daughter, but she bit her tongue and instead decided to feel things out.

  “I… can’t say that speaking freely has ever been particularly encouraged, mother.”

  Even as the words left her mouth, Dahlia nearly flinched from the anticipated reprimand but it never came. Instead the room filled with Sabrina’s laughter as she passed an appraising eye at her daughter.

  “Oh, excellent! I was worried that it wouldn’t be the case, but you still have at least a tiny bit of a mouth on you. This wouldn’t have been nearly as fun otherwise. I wouldn’t exactly say you’re in peak form but, given the circumstances, I’ll give your hesitance a pass for now.”

  Again the girl took a long moment to parse what she was hearing but, after a slow blink and deep breath she decided to push forward. Even the maids, near-silent yet ceaselessly in her way as they prepared for the debutante, couldn’t distract her from the Baroness who now casually leaned against her bedroom wall.

  “Mother, is this some kind of joke? What do you want out of me, some final spark of resistance for you to fan, only to crush it later? Are you suddenly regretting that I’m leaving soon so you just wanted to try and find a new way to toy with me before I’m gone?”

  Something about that last part had her mother’s eye twitch and Dahlia couldn’t help but see it as a victory. Nonetheless, Sabrina seemed to only take that as an opportunity to get to business.

  Unauthorized reproduction: this story has been taken without approval. Report sightings.

  “No, unfortunately I’m not only here to toy with you. As you already know, girl, your debutante will be occurring this evening and it’s fallen on me to lecture you. You’re to be good. You’re not to act out, misbehave, or draw attention to yourself in any way that might negatively reflect on our family and, of course, your greatest concern should be to please the young Lord Carphopoulos. Failure to adhere to any of these points won’t be tolerated and you can expect harsh punishment if you fall out of line, understood?”

  Dahlia nodded, slow and cautious as her mother briefly sank back into her more typical personality but, within mere moments after she finished speaking, a strange look came across her face. Her eyes were slightly vacant and glazed, as if she were looking at something in the air before her, darting about as she glanced at nothing, only for her to refocus back on Dahlia wearing her grin as if it had never left.

  “Naturally, those were all messages your father wanted me to relay. Don’t get me wrong, if you fuck up your debutante then you’ll be in for a punishment like you’ve never seen before. Vincent has been on edge recently and I can promise you that if the deal with the Carphopoulos’ doesn't go through then he’ll almost certainly settle for Zmeul instead. And… well, considering how the Count is known to appreciate heavily scarred women, I’m not confident your father’s rationality would be able to hold him back any longer.”

  The woman trailed off again, eyes once again flickering as she chewed on her lip. Same as before though, her eyes landed back on her daughter, seeming to enjoy Dahlia’s discomfort, especially so now as the maids stripped her down and made her feel all the more vulnerable. Dozens of old scars decorated her pale skin, each placed to be hidden from typical view while remaining undeniable reminders of everything she’d gone through, and seeing them only had the Baroness’ smile widen.

  “Of course, despite me giving you all these warnings, you’re not one to give up just because there’s a potential beating waiting for you; once you’ve set your mind to something you tend to become disgustingly hard-headed. Now, normally I would try to be Vincent’s good little wife and reinforce those warnings so they can properly stick and get through that thick skull of yours but… what can I say? Recent events have led to a change of heart and, what you have planned? Oh, it’s far more interesting than just marrying you off to that ducal prince.”

  At those words, Dahlia felt herself stiffen involuntarily and only became more anxious as Sabrina’s gaze shifted over to her desk drawer where she had stored all of her notes and plans. The maids continued to roughly handle her, crowding the girl as they pulled and repositioned her, toying with her like a doll but, even then, they felt distant. Her mother’s attention is what made her chest tight and breath short as anxiety began to fill her. Her plans, everything that had kept her sane and let her hold onto hope in the past weeks, was foiled before it even had the chance to begin. She hardly even noticed herself speak, the sheer distress making her voice raw.

  “How? How do you know about that? I did everything right, how could you—”

  A cackle —for there was no other way to describe it— filled the room as Sabrina howled in delight.

  “Oh, girl, that was an absolute treat! It’s been ages since I’ve seen you that visibly distressed, thank you, truly. As much as I’d love to see you break down right now though, I believe we’re in a bit of a time crunch, so we’ll have to cut the fun short. Besides, I believe you’re skipping over the last part of what I said: I have no intention of stopping you.”

  Dahlia still felt as if the walls were closing in, claustrophobic and overwhelming, and yet she couldn’t help but hold onto that hint of hope.

  “You… what? Why? Why would you even care? Don’t you need to sell me off for the family to balance its books?”

  “Hmmm… that would be a good point if you were talking to your father. Vincent cares quite a bit about the family, both in terms of reputation as well as finances, but me? No, not at all. In fact, regardless of what happens, I think my time here is nearing its end so who am I to care if the entire Liontáriou family burns alongside you? Instead, I’d much rather enjoy the show you’ve got planned.”

  There was a lilt to her voice, an almost playful tone as she spoke, and Dahlia once again found she had to look at her mother with new eyes. Slowly but surely, it was becoming undeniably clear that, for better or worse, the woman before her was being genuine. Even so, she felt she couldn’t let her guard down and instead tried to keep her voice steady.

  “If you say all that and expect me to just suddenly trust you then I have some bad news, but… well, I suppose you do seem to know everything. Care to explain that?”

  The Baroness tutted but still answered with a smile. “You know girl, you continue to read people so well and yet you’re horrific when it comes to actual intrigue. You’re always either too expressive or entirely inexpressive and it shows your hand too easily. Not to mention that your questions, even when you think you’re being sneaky, are about as delicate as dragon’s breath. To answer your question though… I suppose you never found out what your father’s and my specialty in magic was.”

  Sabrina flexed her hand and a small, marble-sized orb took shape hovering just above her palm. It formed like a peony bud, with layer upon layer of molten golden feathers overlapping to make the small sphere. Dahlia watched intently as her mother’s spell took shape, her eyes flitting back and forth as she watched gorgeous trails of mana weave and be reshaped in a way that even she struggled to grasp. After only a moment had passed however, the mana in the air stilled, becoming nearly imperceptible as the small golden construct flexed before opening slightly, revealing something that resembled an eye with a jagged and elongated pupil.

  It hovered there, meeting Dahlia’s stare directly, before seeming to quite literally wink out of existence. There wasn’t even the slightest fluctuation of mana that she could see and, after glancing towards her mother, the woman’s smirk may as well have answered the girl’s unspoken question.

  “There you go, now it’s starting to sink in. And before you get complacent, the eye isn’t gone. Once formed, I can make them almost entirely imperceptible. You see, beyond anything else in my kit of tricks, near perfect divination is my specialty and, when I say ‘near perfect’, I promise that isn’t a boast.”

  The Baroness’ smile only widened further as she spoke, showing far too many teeth as she watched her daughter squirm.

  “Want to know when it started? You think it began after your ritual? Before it? No girl, don’t be stupid, you’re better than that and we both know it. I have always watched you. And all of your little notes and plans? I know them like the back of my hand.” She lowered herself, lounging in the nearby desk’s chair as if it were only natural, and cocked a brow at her daughter. “So, with all of that out of the way, why don’t we just speak openly, hmm?”

  Dahlia’s thoughts raced as she put pieces together and reflected on every single thing her mother might have seen but, despite those concerns, she felt herself almost calmed. Whatever might happen going forward, her secrets were already out in the open and she couldn’t help but feel the weight of that leave her shoulders. With a long calming breath, she finally met the Baroness’ eyes.

  “You’ve been talking like it’s just you who knows what I’m attempting; is Father truly unaware?”

  The question was met with a lazily waved hand, “Yes yes, I didn’t tell the oaf. If I had, he would have stormed in here ages ago. In general… well, you can assume that Vincent isn’t particularly informed on my casting. Anything and everything we share here may as well be private, so stop beating around the bush and ask the important questions.”

  Again Dahlia paused. She knew that, as the head of the family, her father was supposed to have the records of every single family-members’ bloodline, aspect, schema, and practical abilities but — no, it wasn’t worth pursuing that train of thought. If her mother wanted to stop beating around the bush then there was little point hesitating now.

  “Is what I have planned feasible?”

  “Hmmm, I wonder.” The woman smirked and looked at her nails, “I certainly wouldn’t say that it’s flawless by any means but feasible? Perhaps. The time and effort you put into it was admirable, but you’re still suffering purely from a lack of information. Everything you’re operating off of is outdated and it’s leaving you open to surprises.”

  The girl nodded and tried prodding, “I agree entirely, which would mean that if you helped me fill in those blanks then—”

  “Absolutely not.”

  The abruptness caught her off guard but the sternness of the reply had her even more on edge. As she gave Sabrina a questioning glance though the woman just sighed, long and tired, before shifting back to a more lackadaisical demeanor.

  “Unfortunately for you, girl, you’ll be largely stuck going in blind.”

  “And the reason for that is…?”

  “A grand scheme, I assure you.” She paused, snorted, and then continued, “Is what I’m sure you’d like me to say, right? But no. Let’s put it this way: I don’t know if you’ll succeed or not. I don’t know if your plan will work and free you or if it’ll come back to bite you, but I at least feel confident that it will be one hell of a show to watch. But you want me to get more involved and act as your secret little sponsor? Don’t make me laugh! Getting tied in with you more than I already am just means that when —not if— you fuck up, I’d be dragged into the mess more than I already would be. So no, I’ll just sit back and watch, thank you very much.”

  Dahlia stared at the woman long and hard. Even as maids tugged and pulled at her hair, she didn’t let her focus waver until finally she spoke up again.

  “So that’s it? Come here, act completely counter to your usual self, reveal secrets and then… what? Nothing? If it was just entertainment you needed then you could have stayed silent and watched without me ever needing to know. So what’s the actual goal here?”

  The Baroness stilled, her eyes once again flickering to and fro before settling on a single invisible point that Dahlia couldn’t make sense out of and, when she next spoke, there was a cold certainty in Sabrina’s tone.

  “I’m leaving here, girl. So are you for that matter. Gods know whether it will be for better or worse, but both of us will be leaving this mansion behind. So in some ways you could consider this my first ever proper visit. I’m letting you see behind the curtain, showing you a taste of who I am, because I regret to inform you that you won’t be rid of me. No matter where you go and what might happen to you, I will watch you. No matter where you hide or who you befriend, there will be no escape from me.”

  And just as sudden as that cold certainty entered her voice, a carefree tone quickly replaced it as the Baroness cast a wide grin.

  “So consider this a warning as well as a request. You’ve got an audience, girl, so be sure to make things nice and entertaining for me.”

  Dahlia once again met those eyes and took them in. Beyond the woman’s chilling certainty there was a sheer madness behind her words, and the look in her eyes —while taunting and playful— possessed a manic energy that the girl had not once seen before.

  Her mother was a sadistic, calculating, and cruel abuser, there was no denying that, and what she showed today revealed a wild kind of madness that had the girl even more on edge. And yet… there was something in that energy —the desire for her to put on a good show— that lit a fire in Dahlia, and she couldn’t help it: she met that crazed stare and felt her lips twist into a smile.

  If Sabrina wanted a good show, then who was she to refuse? Besides, a part of her was starting to realise that, while her mother was undeniably insane, she might just have a sliver of madness in herself as well.

  And so we begin arc 2! This one is a tad longer than arc one but I hope it helps get you hooked as we move onto a larger stage and begin to meet more major characters and see more of the larger world. The first three arcs, in my opinion, each serve as introductions in different ways, though perhaps that's scary to hear without context. Hell, new introductions never quite stop, arc after arc, but I really do feel like these first three arcs serves as different means of introducing y'all to the characters, the world, the politics, and the magic. It's... fun? I have a lot of fun with it, so all I can say is that I hope you do too!

  Now, pronunciation!!! I'm not going to get into etymology here because there's a lot to break down, but I wanted to address the lovely woman quoted in this chapter's epigraph. "Ma?ji?ya?gbe? Poyinm??la? Ro?shi?ji Ewu?ba?jo?." Etymologically, that's a name with Yoruba origins. Now, I'm not going to get into the lore of the language equivalent of Yoruba in my setting —it's something I actually am quite proud of world-building wise— but it can be discussed later. What I do want to discuss is how Yoruba translates to the style of phonetics I use, i.e., not well. Yoruba is a tonal language with, from the little I understand, three tones: high, middle, and low. When you see it written with all those accents, the acute accent (á) is for high tones, the grave accent (à) is used for low tones, and those without accents are a mid tone. Additionally, another part of the pronunciation is, if an "n" follows a vowel, it causes the preceding vowel to take on a nasal quality. Setting aside speaking the tones, I actually find Yoruba pronunciation itself fairly intuitive (at least I hope I do, as a reminder, please correct me if you find me making errors). In this case, setting aside tones, we would be looking at the name as "Mah-jee-yaag-bay Poh-y?-moh-lah Roh-shee-jee Ay-woo-bah-joh". And that's all today, I hope you had fun! Also, keep your eyes open for more epigraphs from her in the future because I quite like her.

  If you're enjoying what you see and want to read ahead, I do have a Patreon that will maintain eight chapters in advance of what is public. If that interests you, you can find a link to it

  And if you're interested in talking to me about the novel or if you'd like to join a community of other delightful readers, I'd be happy to see you over at my Discord. You can find the link

  And as always, I hope you're having a wonderful day!