[I'm not looking for a new partner, I'm only on this app to see if Zen had a profile. Thank you for your understanding ladies and gentlemen 😘]

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The desolate wasteland outside the carriage window shocked me. The air was crystal clear just under a mile ago. Now, a dense gray fog blocked out the sunlight and horizon. The lack of greenery was a stark contrast to the lush environment of the Capitol.

A large, puke-green rotted wood sign came into view. 

It read:

"Welcome to the Westboye Duchy" 

"Striving to be Isekia's cleanest territory!"

The sign wasn't necessarily wrong; they may just be crummy at striving.

"Urgh, this place smells fermented ass," I complained as I held my sleeve on my nose.

"The scent may be remnants of chemical warfare, or it may be from the many waste dump sites that we are passing through," Sheraton replied flatly.

I squinted; it felt like I had an eyelash in my eye, except that lash was probably poop particles.

"Ladies, please! It's just trash and excrement, nothing too wild. There aren't enough sanitation magic stones in this area to clear the waste. The local government didn't know what to do with the garbage.

"So...they dumped a massive amount of waste here, on the outskirts of the territory," Ubir explained to us like a seasoned tour guide. 

Urgh, how was he so casual about inhaling human excrements particles? 

I glanced up and saw through the window that he was wearing goggles. He also had a handkerchief tied to his face. He was pretty clever despite his appearances.

"Ubir, are we there yet? It smells like shit here," I complained loudly at him.

"I just said that we are on the outskirts! It'll be a few more days before we get to the Duke's mansion," Ubir explained in one breath as he looked back at me. 

The air shot in and straight-up assaulted my eyeballs when I opened the middle window to push out a hand towel to Ubir. 

"Cover your nose with this. It'll work better than just a single layer Fold the handkerchief a few times few times and wrap your original handkerchief around it," I explained as he grabbed the towel.

"Thank you, my lady!" He wrapped his now-brown handkerchief around my pristine one.

I closed the window to keep the shit out of the carriage. I pulled two more white hand towels from under my lap blanket and handed one to Sheraton. As a survivor of 2020 on Earth, I was an expert on face masks and filters. Maybe I can start a public health revolution when I have some downtime. 

I need to tell everyone to wash their hands. Especially Asholle, he seems like the type to wipe his ass before he shits but not after.

A week in a stuffy carriage gave me a lot of time to work on my embroidery. The motor memories allowed me to stitch flowers and birds effortlessly on the handkerchiefs. 

Why is it always flowers and birds? Why not weapons and people?

I made my resolution never to embroider flowers and birds. I also decided to ditch handkerchiefs and only carry hand towels.

The towels did not fit in the embroidery hoop, and the needle kept slipping—a small pile of rejects speckled with burgundy laid on the floor after several hours of painful struggle. 

[Don't worry, that's all my blood.]

Sheraton kindly reminded me that it was very hard to clean dry blood off white fabric.  Her cold hands held my hand and rotated them for inspection. She clicked her tongue in disapproval.

"I'm rich. Do we even need to do laundry?" I asked sarcastically.

"You are right, my lady. You are rich. You have never worn a dress twice. Maybe we should start burning clothes and linen instead of washing them to conserve water," she answered without a hint of emotion. 

I ignored her and snatched a clean white towel from my basket. I glanced over once in a while, and she was constantly staring at me.

Creepy. Why is everyone in this world so weird? I knitted to pass the time when I drove coast to coast on Earth. It was pretty dull when I had to spend my downtime idling in my truck.

Coincidentally, my husband said that he loved beanies and blankets. I started giving him handmade beanies and blankets for our anniversary, birthday, valentines day, Christmas, Easter, Hanukkah, Veteran's Day, New Year, Chinese New Year. 

He was so lucky to have someone as thoughtful as me.

"That's cute...mushroom, my lady," Sheraton attempted to compliment my work after my hour-long struggle.

"It's supposed to be a face." I stopped mid-stitch and looked her dead in the eyes. 

"What a…unique face. Is the red part supposed to be hair?" Sheraton took a closer look at my artwork.

"Yes, I'm working on his red hair right now," I chuckled and continued stitching.

"Is this for your father?" She feigned a smile. I knew that she wasn't capable of smiling.

The embroidery was of Luis, but Sheraton wouldn't know that. The only man with red hair in Fellanie's life was her father, Margrave Misdemeanir.

"…It is most definitely my father. I will totally give it to him when I return home." I looked down at my work and hid my lovesickness behind a weak smile.

**********

We finally arrived at Duke Westboye's duchy. The sweet scent of nothing filled my lungs as we passed through the gates. After taking several breaths, I found a new appreciation for barriers and air purifying stones. 

"Welcome! Please call me Wolt, and this is my lovely fiancee, Zen," Duke Westboye pecked the back of my outstretched hand as he maintained unbroken eye contact with me. 

"A pleasure to make your acquaintances. I am Fellanie Anne Misdemeanir." I curtseyed and then followed the Duke. I watched him raise his hand to his face and put it back down from behind.

Did he just wipe his mouth after kissing my hand?

His shitty attitude and messy short silvery-white hair surprised me. Maybe white hair was a standard hair color in this novel. Like Darq, he was just 24 years old. The Crown Prince was also 24. What the hell, all of the guys are the same age except for Asholle. He and Fellanie are both 20.

What happened to everyone's parents? Do dukes and duchesses expire after a set amount of time? The princes and I still have our parents, but no one else did.

Thank God my father was still alive. I didn't want to inherit the Margrave title. I constantly worked overtime in my past life, and I was not going to do that again.

"The Second Prince sent word of your arrival. Thank you for coming on such short notice," he said as he sized us up. 

"Yes, we need all of the help that we can get!" Zen nervously laughed as he reached for Wolt's hand. 

"I will do my best to assist you. How did you two meet? This information will be helpful to the planning." I looked at the pair. Wolt's green eyes lit up at the question.

"Ahh... Well, I went for a walk to feed the eagles one day, and I heard a loud splash. I rushed towards the pond thinking that one of the eagles might have fallen in…" he paused and looked into Zen's eyes with wistful longing. 

He continued, "... I dropped my bucket of goldfishes when I arrived at the pond. I was bewitched by his beauty and enthralled by his sweet voice." 

Is this improv? If so, then it's terrible. If not, then I guess he's just batshit insane. Like everyone else in this novel.

"...stop it, that's embarrassing..!" Zen's already rosy face turned beet red. 

"Don't be shy, my love. I have been yours from the moment that our eyes met," Wolt elegantly lifted Zen's hand and kissed his way up Zen's arm.

"It was love at first sight; his smile was as dazzling and beautiful as a 10-carat pink diamond ring."

Well, that is weird, vague, and highly specific all at the same time.

Wolt held Zen's left hand in the air; a massive sparkling pink diamond ring sat on his left finger. He quickly wrapped his arm around Zen's waist and pulled him to his side.

"I was lost in his deep umber corneas…I couldn't take my eyes off him. My dearest Zen, we will be together forever…."

"Yes, I love you too, Wo—"

—no matter what." Wolt interrupted as he glared at my lackeys and me.

We walked up the steps to the main mansion and followed Wolt to the drawing-room.