"He... he doesn’t like me very much, does he?" whispered Pero, her voice filled with anxiety.

I cast a glance at the little girl who seemed incapable of stepping anywhere but in my footsteps. She was obviously referring to Anela. He had been more than cold toward her. She was just a child, and I had seen the admiration and fear the Duke of Vileblood inspired in her. Unfortunately for her, he wasn’t open to conversation or much of anything else. He had locked himself in a silence from which it would be more than difficult to pull him out.

As for me, Pero’s presence wasn’t exactly a joy either. Having a child underfoot was far from my preference, but I knew I didn’t really have a choice. Just like her, I had to endure. Being a Duchess at that age—especially with the mission weighing on us—nothing about it was easy, and I almost felt sorry for her. She was trying to appear strong, but she trembled, and her fear was impossible to miss.

Her copper curls bounced with all the energy she put into staying in step with me, and I couldn’t help but notice that the fiery waves falling across her face were going to start bothering her. Still, I didn’t say anything. I turned my attention back to Anela, who was walking several steps ahead of us beside the Vileblood boy, Rake, who was accompanying us to the port. They were followed by a worried-looking Fratera and an even gruffer-than-usual Beret.

"No one’s thrilled you’re here," I said, "but they’re more worried about you than truly angry."

"It’s... it’s strange for me to be here. I... like all the other kids, I only knew you through the bards’ songs."

"Swallow your admiration, girl. You’re a Duchess now, too. Do like I do—admire in silence," I said with a smile.

She seemed to follow my gaze because she blushed abruptly, her freckles popping against every inch of her brown skin, and nodded vigorously.

"Duke Selene, where are we going? I mean... I’ve learned from the late Duke Vyl and the Asmerion about the importance of our quest, but now... where are we heading?"

"To the port of Goneblood. We’ll be avoiding Vileblood to land directly on the vast land of Blood that doesn’t belong to the purebloods. That land is called The Damned. If we passed through Vileblood like most purebloods do to reach The Damned, then the bloodfeast scouts who watch Vileblood day and night could alert a legion, and we’d be doomed."

"So we’re going to avoid the scouts by reaching The Damned by sea, understood Pero, but I thought the sea was even more dangerous than the land!"

"It is!" exclaimed Beret, his voice hoarse from his earlier rage. "But the Duke Selene right here crosses the sea to reach The Damned for her bestiary more often than all of us put together! This’ll be my first time at sea!"

Fratera sighed with a faint smile on his lips and turned slightly, still walking, to address the new little Duchess of Whiteblood.

"The Sea of Blood has depths littered with corpses of purebloods and bloodfeast, with torn-apart ships and sea monsters. The farther we go from the coast, the greater the danger and the more Nightmare-like the monsters," he explained.

"But we won’t be doing that," I reassured her. "You know the river that separates each Duke’s land, don’t you?"

"They’re called the Veins."

I nodded. At least this little one knew the basics.

"The Veins all flow into the sea, and we’ll be taking one of them, letting its current carry us. We won’t have to do anything but wait."

And as if to confirm our words, our walk came to a stop and, before us, our boat—a sloop—was waiting. At its foot stood a priest. Surprise flashed across Pero's face. It had to be said that the customs before setting sail were little known, as those who had once sailed were few. Only those from Harshblood, in this case, were the lucky—or unlucky—chosen ones. It was therefore customary for those who set out to sea to be blessed by the priest of the town. Here, in Goneblood, only this last man of God remained, bearing the burden of living alone and offering support to those preparing to journey over the water.

I stepped forward, ahead of the others, and greeted the priest respectfully.

"The Asmerion has told me of the quest that falls to you. My prayer will accompany your steps."

The worry in his eyes was obvious. He raised his hand and began to chant, praying for the safety of our souls and the return of our bodies. The Dukes had closed their eyes, but the young Duchess couldn’t manage to do the same. Her gaze wandered, clinging to every creak we could hear, every movement we could perceive coming from the depths of the water. Tired of her panic, I placed my hand on her head. She froze, and after a moment’s hesitation, closed her eyes.

When the priest had finished his prayer, the Dukes thanked him and Beret and Fratera immediately boarded, followed by Pero, whom I had to nudge a bit. Only the old man of our God Rodel and I remained, along with Anela and the man from his land, Rake, standing a few steps away. The latter gave them a regretful look and then turned to me.

"I have good hope that this quest won’t be in vain, but… do they truly know what awaits them so deep in The Damned? Duke Selene, you must watch over this child and the Dukes. I’m selfishly more at peace knowing the Duke of Vileblood is with you, even if I recognize your achievements in The Damned, Duke Selene."

"What do you think of Anela?" I asked. "I’m not disappointed, for my part."

"Truth be told, I had already seen him at many masses, but this is the first time I’ve been so close to him and… there’s something terrifying about him. However, our father to us all sings his praises. I expected no less from the Bloody Vicar."

I nodded and looked at Anela. He was listening intently to his friend, his brows slightly furrowed, giving him a suspicious expression. His blood-colored gaze swept over the boat, the other Dukes, then landed on me. As soon as his eyes met mine, he returned to his conversation with Rake, patted his shoulder, and turned away. It was hard for Rake not to hold him back. I saw his hand stretch out toward Anela in vain, but he lowered it immediately.

He too turned away, intending to return to Vileblood, but his gaze met mine. I couldn’t help but smile. One didn’t need to be a prophet to know that all of Vileblood surely knew about our quest. The Asmerion wouldn’t have admitted it aloud, but everyone trusted the fortress-city. And so I understood the heavy concern weighing around Anela: men from Vileblood would have been more effective than some Dukes. Even those of Vileblood must have thought so. One only had to see Rake’s scowling face to know it, and I was particularly satisfied by his absence—and that of the others from Vileblood.

"Selene! Let’s board!" shouted Beret.

"Safe travels," wished the priest, pulling me from my silent duel with Rake. "I have no fear for your journey at sea, you’re used to it. May The Damned spare you."

I chuckled and nodded before joining the other Dukes. Anela was already working to lift the anchor with Fratera—or rather, they were trying to. I let my belongings join the others’ in a corner of the boat and approached the Bloody Vicar and the Duke of Fairblood to lend a hand. I could see the effort they were putting into turning the heavy crank. I patted the first on the hip, and he turned toward me. I gently nudged him aside and took his place. I dismissed Fratera as well. My strength and theirs were clearly not comparable physically.

"Once the anchor is up, the current will drag us to The Damned. There, we’ll dock quickly and let the boat drift back into the currents. The Veins naturally spill into the sea, and their flows create a kind of… gentle maelstrom that always brings things back to the same spot," I explained as I hauled the anchor in.

Hearing no reply, I turned my head slightly toward them. With surprised expressions, they all stared at me, then Beret burst into thunderous laughter. Once my task was complete, I locked the crank and looked at them questioningly.

"I may not be an expert in bloodfeast or combat, but in my homeland, Darkblood, weapons, armor, anchors, and ships are forged. For a sloop like this, the anchor alone must weigh at least 140 pounds! You lifted it like it was nothing!" Beret explained.

"The rumors said you were strong, but I didn’t imagine this strong. I should’ve joined in with Beret and Anela to lift all that weight," Fratera added.

The little Duchess’s piercing gaze on me made me smile slightly. I didn’t respond to their “compliments.” The boat was being carried by the waves and, slowly but surely, we were picking up speed. Pero rushed toward the bow, calmly followed by Fratera and Beret, who were just as curious. Only Anela remained by my side, still as inquisitive as ever.

"You’re really strong," Anela approved. "However, without meaning any disrespect, I wonder how you could be a ghost on the battlefield. You’re so... massive."

That “massive” had been whispered in a breath that amused me greatly. I took a step closer to him, significantly shortening the distance between us, and he didn’t attempt to back away. The way he tilted his head to keep his gaze locked with mine sent a delightful shiver down my spine. So close to him, I only had to lean down to take what I desired—but this was neither the place nor the time. Instead, I simply took his chin in hand, letting my fingers sink into his tender flesh.

"And what if I showed you? Wouldn’t that be far more entertaining for the both of us?"

His eyes sparkled with delight, and a smirk curled on his lips, triggering the same response in me. He grabbed my wrist and made me let go.

"Since we have some time, why don’t we do what we talked about? The sparring match. You and me."

"Hey, pretty face, it’s between you and me first!"

I wasn’t surprised by Beret’s interruption, though I masked my irritation with a smile. Anela released me, breaking all contact, and nodded. He walked over to our belongings and picked up the swords—though not all of them. Pero stayed behind with Fratera, who had immediately bowed out. I imagined he must have known what to expect from each of us. He seemed to be the wisest of the Dukes. Then again, being wiser than Beret wasn’t particularly difficult.

It was enough to look at the way that crude man was so eager to fight Anela. Of course, Anela would crush him, and I wasn’t going to miss it for anything. I went to sit next to Pero and Fratera, the latter already laughing in anticipation of our poor companion’s coming humiliation.

"Even though Beret knows that Anela has trained in combat since he was a child, he still can’t help getting excited at the thought of fighting him."

"Since he was a child?" Pero asked timidly.

"Anela was the son of the previous Duke of Vileblood. He held a sword before he held a spoon, and he continued after becoming Duke at a young age, much like you. Though, I believe he was... maybe a year older than you," Fratera explained. "I was his mentor, but the other Dukes and I shielded him from many things until he came of age."

Fratera glanced at the little Duchess and gave her a regretful look.

"Sorry we can’t do the same for you, but Anela will look after you. He’s just too worried to show it."

Pero was about to reply, but the clashing of blades cut him off. Though Anela was ignoring Pero, Fratera was right—he would protect her. He had a deeply kind and loving heart; you only had to see how nothing had managed to break him. Even now, he searched for the good in the situation. I’d seen his reluctance when we agreed to these fights, but he had accepted anyway. Watching him smile and enjoy himself made me think Beret might not be so unpleasant after all.

Still, Beret didn’t stand a chance. In all his graceful splendor, Anela disarmed Beret with a strike of his sword’s pommel. He followed up with a kick that hit Beret in the face—nearly head-on, had the latter not blocked with his forearms. As Beret tried to shake off the daze, Anela pointed his own blade and Beret’s against his throat and his side.

With an expression full of arrogance, pride, and confidence, Anela offered a teasing smile.

"What do you think of the pretty face now?" he taunted.

Beret laughed, breathless like prey just hunted down, and raised his hands in surrender. Pero let out a small sound of admiration, and I stood up—barely having sat—ready to finally claim what I deserved: my duel with him.

"Avenge me!" Beret called out, holding his head and stepping back.

Anela let Beret’s sword drop to a corner, and I raised mine before me.

"Show me what you’re worth, my pretty face," I challenged in turn.

Anela shook his head, amused, and I watched helplessly as his blood-red locks danced sublimely. As he took his stance, I knew my enjoyment was only just beginning.