When it was time for their second meeting, it was something that should have been more private than the first one in the pace. Yet by just entering the gardens, Dermitos could sense at least three guards in the vicinity... Sighing, walking along the stone path with Xendar and Meishan following him close by, they found Anya as she stood beside a fountain, surrounded by a few Naulin attendants who looked as if they’d rather be anywhere else but there. Which made Dermitos internally furrow his brows, but he wasn't about to let it show... But the image Anya's group painted was... icy.

  “Your Highness,” Dermitos greeted, nodding his head just enough to be technically counted as being respectful.

  "Mhm." She nodded back, gncing at Xendar, stopping a step behind Dermitos, while running her gaze over the cold-faced Meishan, "I thought this would be a private meeting."

  "Me too," he shot back, looking at the servants around her. Anya just shrugged, refusing to provide an answer. “I’ve been instructed to show you the finest view our capital can offer.”

  "Instructed?" She countered again, clearly looking for trouble.

  "By my rank and position, what else?" Dermitos persisted, feigning complete ignorance of her spicy mood.

  “I see. Then we should begin,” she replied, her voice sounding a bit aloof, but he could tell it was just for show. “Before the heat worsens. It is unbearable here.”

  As the two began walking, Anya's attendants fell back as they walked through the gardens’ multiple archways, dropping in line with Xendar, who also followed them a few paces back. As for Dermitos and Anya, at first, their conversation was nothing but empty formalities, talking about architecture, court customs, the weather, both of them not even paying attention to anything, just going through the motions. It hadn't changed, not until they passed by the statue of the First Aerthus, his posture proud, his gaze kept towards the sky with a proud grin on his face.

  “This is the first illustration I see of the famous conqueror that describes him like this,” Anya muttered, taking in the five-meter-tall figure and its detailed features from the shoes to his hair.

  "I bet." Dermitos chuckled, "Your own Forefather had to have a different opinion about him."

  “No questions about that part,” She shrugged, "I never really cared about ancient history, though. It has no effect on us today."

  “I disagree,” Dermitos shot back immediately, “Otherwise, you wouldn't be here now.”

  "Hmph," Her eyes flicked toward him. “You do feel proud of that comment, don't you?”

  “Of course. Because I am right.” He smiled. “I can also bet that on your end, you do have some simir statue of your ancestor, describing how he stood up to the evil conqueror who gobbled up half of the world.”

  “A fair description.” She almost smiled, but caught herself just in time, “Zelig is more looked upon as a preserver... If you really want to know.”

  "Sure," Dermitos tilted his head, watching Anya's expression that was telling him she didn't care about what people said back home... Hm... There had to be some bad blood amongst them... “Not that we could know best, from our position in history, no matter from which side we are trying to see it. It all happened so many generations ago.”

  “So where is he?” She turned her gaze toward the statue again.

  "Dead, of course," Dermitos answered sharply. "Everyone knows that."

  "And we also know that it's not true." Anya shot back without hesitation, “Cultivation is meant to unlock the true potential of our bodies. We are both well aware that someone at his level,” she inclined her head, "wouldn't die unless he was killed... And Zelig Naulin never managed to achieve that part..."

  "..." That, finally, drew genuine interest from Dermitos, and Anya also noticed the change in his eyes. “Ah, you cultivate then?”

  “I try.” Her tone quieted, throwing a look towards Xendar and her own servants. "I am at the Fourth Refinement, all things considered...”

  "That is not bad, compared to your actual age."

  "Are you calling me old?" She asked, her eyes narrowing, "We both know that being at the fourth means nothing for someone of our status." She snorted, getting a bit angry, visibly recoiling from the indeed empty compliment Dermitos threw her way, "And... even if I have the eyes, I can't wield them..." She added, hearing a sharp noise coming from one of the servants, clearing her throat. "..."

  Even if Anya had stopped talking, she had already said enough. The eyes... It was something he was taught early to have a healthy fear of. Zelig had a technique that utilized his talent and powers, activating them through his eyes to force his will onto others. It was recorded countless times by Aerthus himself, how he could hear Zelig's voice in his head when they fought, trying to overwhelm his thoughts, forcing errors into his own steps, wanting to cause him to commit a fatal mistake. Yet, Aerthus mostly used his rival's gaze to hone his own mind and learn to fight back against such dangerous techniques even more effectively.

  “Well, if it is about cultivation we are talking about,” He gestured toward Xendar. “My good brother here is at the Seventh Refinement. I can't teach you our own technique as it is tailored to my ancestors' bloodline... But he is different. You could learn a thing or two from him.”

  "At the seventh?" Anya’s brows rose, surprised. “A soldier going that far along? Impressive. And dangerous.”

  For once, her praise sounded genuine, even if she had to stab a little stinger at the end of her sentence. As for Xendar, when their eyes met, he quickly looked away, pretending to study a nearby hedge and making the worst impression of someone being uninterested.

  "Believe me," Dermitos smiled, continuing their walk, "He is better than he looks."

  What neither of them knew at that moment was that elsewhere, at the same time, in Anya's now own private courtyard, Prince Sentios listened as her head caretaker poured wine for herself, swirling it without looking at Sentios at all.

  “Your Highness,” she said, taking a sip from it, finally addressing the impatient-looking Sentios, “I bring greetings from my King. His Majesty Rudrick sends his gratitude for your cooperation in this manner... He also assures you that our mutual interest remains unchanged.”

  “Does he?” Sentios asked, almost sounding like he was about to snap her neck, but was holding back his temper. “Because from where I stand, your precious Princess seems determined to ruin everything. Do you realize how hard it is for me to make sure my stupid brother doesn't fuck it up?! Now do I need to fight someone equally as obnoxious?!”

  "Watch your tongue," the woman said, spreading her hands. “She is just young. Stubborn... We told her to obey, and she will do so. Don't worry, we are not going to make a fuss about it, and you shouldn't either.”

  “It's not about me, it's about my Father! He has a temper too, so remind her,” Sentios hissed, “to keep herself in check... I... and your Rudrick, too, needs this marriage to happen. Understood?”

  "We understand it better than you, Sentios of the Empire," She articuted with a half-sneer on her face, "Don't forget who came up with this in the first pce. Without us, you wouldn't have a chance at it! Just rex and let it happen... then you can sit on the throne and we get a step closer to peace."

  Sentios wanted to argue, but he held back his tongue. Yes... The marriage had to happen. It was the only way to make sure he wouldn't have to battle his brother. That he wouldn't have to throw the Empire into a civil war or anything simir. This was the only peaceful route he could find to ensure a future where they could end the pointless rivalry their father imposed on them both. If Dermitos were to wed her, Carthus would never name him heir. The reason was simple... When they have a child, it would also be a Naulin offspring, too... with a cim on the Imperial throne? Impossible. It would never be allowed.

  "Just," Sentios continued, taking a deep breath, "Just make sure your side keeps their own in check while I deal with Dermitos. This marriage will happen."

  .............

  Not that long ter, when Demritos and Sentios were both on their way back to their own abodes, in the imperial sanctum's deepest part, Aerthus VIII watched the sunset from his balcony, smiling to himself. But he wasn't alone, as a bck-dressed figure was kneeling behind him.

  “That's all that happened in Sentios’s meeting with the Naulin spy,” Nameless stated, with only the Emperor being able to hear him.

  “Mhm,” Carthus hummed, watching the st rays of the setting sun, "As expected."

  “And we are going to allow it?” Nameless asked, "We should have eliminated them while they were en route, My Emperor."

  "That would have been the worst option," Carthus chuckled, shaking his head. “Why shouldn’t I allow it? Sentios has a good head on his shoulders, the issue is that he is inexperienced and can be maniputed... without him realizing it. I hoped that he would catch on, but he is failing one step after another... He is starting to disappoint me.”

  "But..." Nameless hesitated, “And the Naulins?”

  “Rudrick’s too predictable to concern me." Cartus shrugged, "He thinks he has managed to put us into a check. Hardly. Continue with our deys, make sure that my son fails to remain punctual.”

  “We will do a better job than before.” Nameless agreed, feeling a bit guilty as their pn was to make sure Dermitos arrives te for the Princess's arrival, to make sure he offends the Naulins with his absence... yet he arrived just in time. An unexpected blunder, especially knowing how zy the Prince used to be.

  “Dey everything, even their breakfasts.” Carthus turned away from the view, looking at Nameless while giving his orders, “Every courier, every approval, every ceremonial robe, make it go missing. Let them think the other is to bme for it, of course. One way or another, make sure the marriage falls through. But don't kill anyone... We can't give the Naulins what they want.”

  "It will be done. But if this… backfires? And they marry?”

  "They won't marry... And nothing would change." The Emperor's eyes hardened, “At worst, we will have to kill a few Naulins. Go... Notify Boursat... He may have to do the dirty work so we can bme bandits on a certain... incident.”

  .............

  By the time the moons were out, after Anya excused herself, returning to her quarters with her delegation, Dermitos's courtyard was emptied, leaving only the two men there. And Meishan, but she was in Dermitos's room, preparing the bed and herself for him.

  "She is... interesting." Xendar leaned against the marble railing, rolling his shoulders, yawning. “She’s strong... Stubborn... Haaah... Not what I expected from a Princess.”

  “Damn, you are smitten to your core, aren't you?” Dermitos ughed, loosening his colr. “Tomorrow I will take her to the training grounds. So dress accordingly. I will send you out to fight her.”

  "You totally lost the plot!" Xendar snorted, watching him from the corner of his eye.

  "Oh, no, I am rewriting it. Girls like her aren't softies. You'll have to make her respect you if you want a chance to woo her, my friend! So... First you will fight, then you will start teaching her, hm? How does that sound? You can get close, even physically, without having to go through five or six dates! Look what a great brother you have, ahaha! Setting you up so nicely... I'm the best matchmaker in the Empire."

  "Fuck you..."

  "So is that a yes?" Dermitos asked while keeping grinning.

  "mhmhm... mhm... hmmmhm..."

  "I'll take that mumbling as a yes then. Go, XenXen, rest. You'll need it for tomorrow." He spped his back, leaving the somewhat stunned Xendar behind.

  .............

  "You must behave better," the old woman berated Anya with a cold tone and a sneer on her face. Anya, who was brushing her hair, just kept watching her figure in the reflection of her mirror, wanting nothing more than to stand up and disappear.

  "I can't change who I am."

  "Shut up and obey." The servant's voice was hard as a metal baton, making Anya's brushing hand stop for a moment before continuing, trying to hide its tremble. "I am the voice of Rudrick right now," she added, and her Harmony-level aura pressed down on Anya, "Screw this up, and you will not only be punished, but thrown out of the family."

  "..."

  "Good. At least you can shut your mouth." She snorted, "You just have to stand there, or lie on the bed, open your leg and make an heir we can cim. Understood? We will have their bloodline and their throne. That is your mission. Your one and only mission. That is why you are here; otherwise, the Naulin line will disown you... Cripple you... Then you will remain nothing, be alone forever, a worthless nobody in a disfigured body... Never forget that."

  "Understood..." She muttered, her fingers curling around the handle of the brush, cracking the wood while she watched the old hag leave her room, leaving Anya behind, who was unable to say anything, even to herself.