#omg ch 6 is finally out

[wannabugi]

to turn around history (23621 words) by sweet_mintx Chapters: 6/? Fandom: 莲花楼 | Mysterious Lotus Casebook (TV) Rating: General Audiences Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings Relationships: Fang Duobing/Li Lianhua | Li Xiangyi Characters: Li Lianhua | Li Xiangyi, Fang Duobing, Di Feisheng, He Xiaohui, Shi Shui (Mysterious Lotus Casebook), Su Xiaoyong Additional Tags: Alternate Universe - Reincarnation, Getting Together, Falling In Love, Alternate Universe - Medical, Age Difference, Slow Burn, Fix-It of Sorts Summary: Li Xiangyi has lived many lives. In his 18th, he finds Fang Duobing on a sweltering August afternoon, in the far corner of the emergency room.   容我再等, 历史转身。   A reincarnation AU with them both as doctors.

[penkura]

last forever [7/13]

Summary: Zoro only offered to marry you to keep you out of an arranged marriage with a man much older than you. You agreed with the caveat of ending it via annulment once you received word from your parents regarding the original engagement, despite your growing feelings for your close friend.

Pairing: Zoro x Fem!reader, mentioned Sanami later (like epilogue later so chill)

Warnings: Marriage of Convenience, Fake Marriage, referenced sex (waaaaaay later on), mutual pining, Zoro is bad at feelings but what's new there, eventual romance I promise, mention of past attempted assault (I'll warn in that chapter), creepy older dude later on

Note: I apologize for glossing over and skipping fights and so much of this arc. Writing violence is not my forte, and I'd rather focus on the main relationship. We all know how One Piece goes anyway. I had to go back and refresh myself on some of the details, it's been a while since I read/watched Water Seven and Enies Lobby.

But also, I was SO NERVOUS writing a certain part of this, its NOT my usual style omg. But I needed to write what I did when it popped into my head. Just wait until a bit later, though omg. This stays SFW, I swear.

Taglist:

@misfits1a

[Ch. 1] ● [Ch. 2] ● [Ch. 3] ● [Ch. 4] ● [Ch. 5] ● [Ch. 6]

When you finally make it to Water Seven, after your run in with the Foxy Pirates and Admiral Aokiji, it’s nice to be somewhere you recognize. Having only been here a few times when your dad had business and he chose to bring you and Elias, it was always your favorite trip to take when your mother would let you tag along.

The only person who knows this at first, apart from Zoro, is Sanji, when you choose to go into the city with him as Zoro watches the ship; Luffy, Nami, and Usopp go to exchange the gold for actually money, and Chopper goes with Robin to find a bookstore. Sanji laughs a bit when you tell him you’ve been here a few times, give or take.

“You may have been a bit sheltered, but you were well traveled!”

Laughing in return, you tighten your arms around Sanji, laying your head on his back as your Yagara ride continues down the water street, watching all the people. It’s been so long, you forgot how lively this city was.

“Mom would always try to make me stay home with her, but I’d cry and throw a tantrum until she let me go, normally because my brother asked for me to. I was a little spoiled back then by Elias.”

“Nothing wrong with that,” Sanji looks over his shoulder to give you a smile, “You were the baby, that’s expected.”

“Tch, yeah,” scoffing, you don’t look up at him, “The baby no one but my brother really wanted.”

He doesn’t say anything, instead just patting one of your hands, which makes you fist his shirt in your grip for a moment before relaxing again. Sanji knows more about your life growing up than most of your crew, only Zoro really having the nearly full story. Even then, you’ve kept somethings to yourself, not because they were painful memories, but because they were some of the few good times you remember, they were more precious to you than any other memories.

The two of you quickly find the shopping district and purchase copious amount of local foods, Sanji reeling off different ideas for dishes as he catches sight of Robin, grabbing your hand to drag you along and around a corner he swears to you he saw her go down, but she’s nowhere to be seen and neither is Chopper.

Your doctor does find you both a few moments later, apologizing on your way back to Merry for losing Robin, but you tell him not to worry, she can take care of herself, she’ll come back later.

When you get back to Merry, the update Zoro gives you feels like a knife in all your hearts. 

“What do you mean Merry is unfixable?!”

“Just what I said,” Zoro doesn’t fully look at Sanji, instead making sure you’re all right with the news, though the frown and starting of tears tell him you aren’t, “A shipwright came to check and said so.”

You hate the idea of having to give up Merry, whether that’s what Luffy’s decided yet or not, you aren’t sure, even as Nami returns and the situation gets worse with Usopp having been beaten by the Franky family and the two hundred million beri being stolen from him. The money didn’t matter, what mattered was Usopp, the rest of your crew going to find him and Luffy but Nami clinging onto you to stay with her, which you do to keep your friend safe.

The rest of the day is a blur, after Usopp is brought back, his fight with Luffy over Merry, and how quickly the rest of you leave to a hotel in the city. Some would probably think it’s strange that you’re holding so tightly to Zoro the whole time, rarely letting go of his arm, but you feel like you need some stability with how things have changed so much in just a day. You all still don’t know where Robin’s gone, you plan to go with Sanji and Chopper later the next day to try and find her.

For now, Zoro doesn’t mind you holding onto and staying by him. He tries to understand, it’s likely you’re thinking back to your parents, having told him of how they’d argue regarding you mostly, Elias being your safe haven who would remove you from the situation for safety.

Part of you doesn’t want to sleep that night, but Zoro makes you, forcing you to lay down. Really you’re worried you’re going to wake up and everything’s been a dream, none of your friends will be there, but Zoro, who you fully are coming to believe can read your mind, pokes you in the forehead before sitting by your bed with his back to you.

“Just sleep. I’ll be here in the morning.”

Every part of you believes him, you’ve got nothing but trust in Zoro.

+!+

With everything that’s happened involving Robin, your crew, Galley-La, and the Franky family, you’re surprised you’re even still on your feet as you follow everyone into Enies Lobby. You’d barely slept the night before and have been awake since early the previous morning, ending up following Sanji to the sea train that was taking Robin from you all. You fight alongside him, Franky, and Usopp, er, Sniper King, to try and reach Robin, only to lose her again in exchange for your own lives.

After the Rocketman train catches up to you and the four of you board it, Nami throws a towel over you since you’re sopping wet from the rain, and you start to draw yourself back from everyone for a few moments. You just need a bit to catch your breath, to keep yourself from crying due to how tired and upset you are. It’s going to be another sleepless night as you listen to everyone try and plan how you’re all going to attack the government island, you want to rescue Robin as soon as possible, even for the selfish reason of being able to sleep properly. Zoro tries to keep you out of the plan discussion, making you sit down and rest as much as you can, giving you water and sending you the slightest of glares if you try to get up too soon.

“Stay there, wife,” he’s quiet while he tells you to stay where you are, trying to keep his slip up of calling you his wife from those who don’t and shouldn’t know, “Rest until we get there. We’ll get Robin back.”

A slight smirk hits your face as you look up at him. “Trust her now?”

Zoro shrugs a bit, leaning on the wall beside you. “I guess. I trust you and Luffy more. But if you don’t rest, it doesn’t matter who I trust.”

Ah, that makes sense, why he’s trying so hard to make you take a break, other than you’re being up for so long now.

You’ll be useless in the fighting if you aren’t as prepared as you can be, if you haven’t had any kind of rest and keep worrying over Robin and everyone else. Even when you get there, convince Robin to let you all rescue her, most of your body wants to give up and stop, but you keep going, keep running to save her with everyone else.

You don’t really mean to get separated from everyone when you go to find the CP9 members who have keys that could open Robin’s sea prism stone cuffs, but it happens and you’re left defending yourself.

A few Marines get a little too close for comfort, but you cut them down fairly quickly, before going the other way from where you came and laughing to yourself at the same time.

I’m starting to take after my husband after all.

+!+

You’ve all returned to Water Seven after rescuing Robin from the government, you’ve maybe given her numerous hugs since even though its only been a couple of hours, and your unfortunate burial of Merry that’d left most of you in tears but all of you heartbroken. So much had happened that you had to step away from everyone for a bit, while there were discussions of what to do next although Luffy had once again fallen asleep from overuse of his powers.

Truthfully you wish you could go to sleep, you’ve been awake for well over twenty-four hours at this point, it would be nice to curl up in a bed and sleep the next several days. Its times like this that make you really wonder if you’re meant to be a pirate, maybe you should just go home and do what your parents want.

“Hey, you okay?”

Then Zoro finds you like always, quietly speaking to keep the others from eavesdropping, though Nami tries, a hand on your shoulder, this time he seems to grip a little tighter than before. You know him well enough at this point, there’s just the slightest hint of worry on his face as he looks at you, brows furrowed just a bit. Zoro knows you just as well, you step away like this when things start to get to be too much, you just need a few moments to clear your head and breathe, and since you’ve had that, you give him a real smile.

“I’m okay.”

“Are you really?”

You nod, Zoro doing the same in return as he knows to believe you, before surprising you by gently taking you face in his hands, as if he’s making absolutely sure that you’re telling the truth.

Having lost track of you while he’d gone on to fight the CP9 members to get Robin’s key, his mind kept wandering to where you’d gotten off to, if you were safe, if you were fighting someone or multiple marines, he really hoped you weren’t against a CP9 member. You had to stay safe, no matter what, you and Robin were his biggest concerns at the time. When you randomly ran into him, Sanji, and Usopp, he was surprised by the relief he felt to see you were a little banged up but otherwise perfectly fine. He’d made you let him carry you on his back the rest of the way, until you got to the ship and were able to safely be on the ground again. He’d barely let you out of his sight since then.

Zoro doesn’t make whatever worry he had about you obvious, only looking like he’s fighting to find something to say while he holds your face and you continue to smile, tilting your head.

“Zoro?”

“Glad you’re okay.”

Giggling a bit, you nod before wrapping your arms around him in a tight hug, your exhaustion and the fears and worries you’ve had the last few hours finally coming to surface while you hug Zoro, making him do the same lightly, to keep you from embarrassing yourself in front of the others while you cry quietly, though you know they wouldn’t care or judge you.

You’re glad Robin is back, everyone is safe and alive, you all may have lost Merry but you’re coming to terms with it.

But most importantly to you, Zoro is safe, and to him, you’re safety is just as important, even if he barely voices it. The last thing he wants is for you to be harmed, in anyway by anyone.

He'll be especially damned if it’s by his hand so he comforts you the best he can, until you’re calmed down enough to rejoin your crew, staying beside him.

He doesn’t make you release his hand as you grip onto it, instead squeezing it back whenever you do so. When you lean into his arm later on, he lays his head against your own, telling you to go ahead and sleep, he’ll get you to a bed. You make him promise to stay with you that night, and he does once everyone goes to turn in, not leaving your side for even a second.

He’ll make sure you stay safe.

+!+

Zoro isn't sure how you two ended up away from the rest of the party. Too much alcohol, yes, but his tolerance is higher than a normal person's. He knows better than to wander off like this, but you took him by the wrist and walked away with a new bottle of sake in your hand, convincing him that it would be good to get away from the noise and everyone else.

You don't normally drink as much as he's seen you do today, he wonders if it's the alcohol that's causing you to giggle incessantly and steal glances at him every bit. Not like you had to steal glances, if you two had been talking you'd be looking at him.

But you'd barely said a word apart from when he asked why you were dragging him away from everyone else.

“Just want some quiet time, husband.”

Zoro never stops you from calling him husband, he's not sure why. Your marriage wasn't real, he should stop you from calling him that.

He should, but he never does.

He doesn't now, even as you lean against him and say “my husband” over and over again. It's only the moment you crawl yourself into his lap that he feels the need to stop you, despite knowing you're drunk or at the very least tipsy enough to not know what you're doing.

“Get off.”

He still doesn't push you off, he's not that heartless.

“Nooooo…” You whine and start to nuzzle your face in his neck, sighing happily after a moment. “My husband~”

“Ain't actually your husband, you know that.”

“But you're my husband still.”

“Stop it before someone sees.”

You pout, but lift your head up to look at him. Zoro can tell more so now that you're definitely drunk, you're more emotional than he thought you'd be. He always expected you to be a giggly or chatty drunk, not emotional to the point you're pouting but also looking like you might cry.

“You should...kiss me.”

“What.”

You nod, leaning closer and touching your nose to Zoro's, making him glance away from you just the slightest bit from the proximity despite the bit of pink across his cheeks that you can see. This is the closest you've let yourself get to him ever, even the nights you sneak into his bed from nightmares, you've never placed your face so close to his.

“You didn't kiss me…when we got married.”

“We're not actu–”

“I'll kiss you then.”

You close the gap for the quickest of seconds, kissing Zoro so fast it's like it didn't happen. Despite your drunk state your face burns with a blush and you apologize, you're not sure why you did that. Must've been the alcohol controlling you or something, that's your excuse. You're both quiet but neither of you moves for a moment, before you decide to get up only to have Zoro hold you in place by your shoulders. His brows are furrowed and you're not sure what's going on in his mind, before he pulls you back into a proper kiss, none of this tiny peck of the lips thing you'd just done. He kisses you fully and for more than a brief second, it's several seconds before he pulls away, leaving you both breathless and you personally shocked.

Shocked for just a moment before you take his face in your hands and kiss Zoro a third time, which he returns, surprising you when he wraps his arms around your waist and brings you closer to him (how you could even get closer when you’re already on his lap, you don’t know). You refuse to let him be the one to end this. You don't want this to end, it needs to continue, even if just for you. Even if all it does is make your feelings for him stronger, even if Zoro later tells you it was a mistake and he still held no romantic feelings for you, despite that fact he's so willingly returning such affection.

Even though, a moment later, Zoro pushes you away gently by your shoulders, neither of you able to breathe properly for a moment, catching your breath as your slowly sobering mind tries to play catch up with what the hell just happened.

You kissed Zoro, and he actually kissed you back. He didn't shove you off or yell at you or anything like that. He accepted it and reciprocated without a single word. You figured he would fight you about this, that he wouldn't accept it so easily.

Is this the progress you've been hoping for?

Once you've both caught your breath, Zoro doesn't even look at you, instead moves just enough that you get the hint and get off his lap finally. It's a few minutes of complete silence between the two of you, that has you confused. You thought things were changing, that you two were getting closer than you had been even before Luffy brought you along.

The fact he'd just kissed you back for several minutes it felt like, you thought maybe Zoro was going to confess to you, but when he still doesn't look at you, you attempt to bring him back by taking his hand, which he lets you for a moment before gently pulling his arm back to himself.

“Zoro…I…I'm sor–”

“I think…you should go to bed, [Y/N].”

“Do you,” you gulp a bit, looking away before you finish, “do you want to come with me?”

“No. That's not a good idea.”

You know this, who knows what trouble you'd bring to yourselves or the crew if you two went to your room together? Whose heart would be broken the next morning if you took things too far when you weren't fully sober? You didn't know, the thought of either of you being hurt made your heart ache and you couldn't bear the thought.

So, instead of trying to convince him things would be fine, you really just wanted to sleep with him next to you, you nod, standing up and dusting yourself off, grabbing the bottle you'd brought with you and looking at Zoro again.

“Are you–”

“Gonna stay here for a bit.”

It's all you can do to nod again, apologizing for pushing things too far before you turn and leave, doing your absolute best to keep your tears to yourself as you return to the party, giving Nami a small smile when she asks where you've been, promising her you'd just gone off to spend some time alone.

She doesn't believe you and intends to get all the information she can later, but she does give you a hug that nearly pushes you over, and says she'll beat up whoever made you sad, especially if it's Zoro, earning her a laugh before you return to your room at the hotel.

I wish he had come with me…

Truthfully you don't regret kissing Zoro, not even a bit. Despite his rejection of your feelings, the fact he so willingly kissed you back made you believe that maybe things were changing in your favor.

Perhaps it was because he was drunk, or maybe he was sober enough that he knew exactly what he was doing, especially when he denied returning to your room with you.

Either way, even with your heart aching from another rejection, it feels like you're making progress with Zoro and your relationship with him, little by little.

For his part of it all, Zoro stays in the same place you'd left him for nearly an hour, trying to calm his own racing heart after that exchange with you.

How he never thought of kissing you before, but now he didn't want to do anything but kiss you (it's the alcohol talking, he swears it is). You tasted like the sake you'd shared and whatever sweet wine Nami had convinced you to take several drinks of. A combination he never expected to be so nice, something he didn't think he'd want to taste again. The moment he thinks about it again his heart skips a beat, and Zoro puts head in his hands in an attempt to stop such feelings.

No, no, shit I gotta stop this.

He sighs and runs his hands through his hair, pulling it slightly to get those thoughts out of his head. Any focus on romance, on you he wanted out of his head. There's been too much of it lately, the want to stay close to you, to pull you away from everyone else, to give in and indulge himself in you alone. He'd told you nothing was going to happen and he had meant it.

But then you had to go and kiss him. The most innocent of kisses, a quick peck on the lips but he'd gone and pulled you back for more almost instantly. Then you made it worse by returning it again and holding his face this time, he didn't know why he enjoyed that so much. This whole thing was ridiculous, there's no reason for these feelings!

The only thing he could do to get some time to think was to push you away, refuse to join you when you went to bed. Who knows what would've happened if he had gone with you? Of course, he knew your thoughts were innocent, you'd shared a bed multiple times when you turned to him after nightmares, it was highly unlikely you were expecting anything more than to just go to sleep and wake up with a hangover, Zoro by your side in case of alcohol induced nightmares.

And he had made you go to bed alone.

That realization, for some reason, causes his heart to ache and Zoro has to finally admit what he's been trying not to, over the last several months, even with the more domestic thoughts he's allowed himself to entertain at times. Something he was hoping would fade away, would disappear over time like it always did for others, the feelings he's finally realized were going to be more long term than he expected.

Damn it all…I'm falling for my wife.

+!+

Contrary to what many may think, Sanji doesn’t particularly like being privy to romance gossip, not the kind involving his crewmates especially. He thinks that such things should be kept between a couple, so when he accidentally hears you telling Nami and Robin how you and Zoro finally kissed the other night, he’s less than pleased to hear it ended with your swordsman pushing you back, not taking you back to your room, or even staying with you for the night.

How unbelievably rude of him! To steal your first kiss, and not even walk you back to your room!

That’s what Sanji would’ve done. If any woman kissed him, he’d walk her back to her room or home, at the very least, to ensure she was safe and nothing happened. Zoro not doing that, when you were inebriated, when you could’ve been hurt or worse, it angers Sanji more than anything Zoro has or hasn’t done thus far. He views you as his best friend, he hates the way you and Zoro seem to get closer to a real relationship, only for something to happen or someone to intervene and ruin your progress. He’s been cheering for you from the start, ever since you confirmed your feelings for the swordsman, only to now wonder if it’s worth it for you.

If Zoro really is what you want and makes you happy, why does it seem like all you do lately is suffer?

Sanji doesn’t fully mean to give Zoro the cold shoulder this time, or even the suspicious looks he throws at him, but Zoro noticed quickly, before anyone else, and confronts him.

“What the hell is your problem, cook?”

“Nothing.”

“Bullshit, you’ve been giving me worse looks than normal.”

Sanji bites down on his cigarette, finally dropping the knife he’d been holding to face Zoro with a scowl.

“I heard you and [Y/N] kissed the other night—”

“Damn it.”

“—and you didn’t bother to take her back to her room?”

“What, is that my job now?”

“As her husband it should be!”

“I’m not really her husband! Damn it, this is stupid.”

Zoro goes to leave, but Sanji stops him by grabbing his sleeve, holding on and telling him to stop.

“Look, asshole. I could care less that you two are married, real or not, or that you kissed her,” Sanji grits his teeth, finally letting go of Zoro’s sleeve, “But if you break her heart, I’ll never forgive you, mosshead.”

While Sanji turns back to continue prepping for dinner, Zoro stops for just a moment. The two have had fights before, that’s obvious to anyone with a brain, but they’ve yet to fight about you. And he wonders why it's only now, after you kissed him, that Sanji seems so hell bent on protecting you, or maybe he's always been like this, it's just more on display as you and Zoro start to get closer.

“What’s your deal with her?”

“She’s my best friend, mosshead. I just want her safe and happy, even if it’s with you.”

He doesn’t say anything in response, leaving the kitchen to find you lounging with Nami and Robin, the three of you in some conversation when you look up and see him, giving a slight smile that Zoro returns with a nod, before heading off to the crow’s nest. What Sanji last said is stuck in his head, partially wondering if you told your cook what happened that night in Water Seven or if he was good at guessing, but that’s not the biggest thing he wonders about.

Would you really be happy with me, of all people, [Y/N]?

+!+

“All right, wait, so, you honestly kissed him?”

“Nami don't make me repeat myself.”

Nami laughs while Robin smiles, both amazed you got up the courage to kiss Zoro of all people. Yeah, you were tipsy at the time, even though Zoro still believes you were fully intoxicated, but you couldn't help feeling bad about it afterwards, just for a bit.

“I didn't fully think it through. I just…I don't know, I wanted to kiss him so I did.”

“I don't think he's too upset about it then,” Robin nods a bit, taking a sip of her wine, “You said he kissed you back, if he didn't push you away right off the bat, it sounds like he was positively receptive to it.”

“Yeah,” Nami quickly agrees, giving you a grin, “Sounds like you're getting yourself a boyfriend.”

“I don't think he wants that.”

“Well, what do you want? Maybe you guys could talk it through.”

What did you want? You thought you knew, to be a world renowned swordswoman, to help Luffy become King of the Pirates.

But what did you want from Zoro? Just to be with him, to stay married to him? Do you want to maybe have a family of your own with him one day? You'd had those thoughts when your feelings first started surfacing, after your impromptu wedding at that backwater courthouse. You'd stopped entertaining  thoughts for quite a while, but now, they're coming back more often.

More importantly, does Zoro want any of that with you?

“I…think… I want to be with him forever…”

Hearing Nami choke on her own drink, you give her a concerned look before she looks at you with wide eyes.

“You sound like you're in love with Zoro!”

You don't say anything for a bit, even with Nami and Robin looking at you like they're expecting you to deny such a thing. There was no way you were in love with Zoro, not at all. You two hadn't dated, your marriage was only temporary, it was meant to end as soon as you had something from your parents. You two weren't going to last forever, you weren't going to have kids together, live out your lives as a married couple. It wasn't happening.

No matter how much you may want it to. That's what Nami and Robin have come to think over time, from the things you've said to them.

“I am, Nami.”

Despite Nami's new outburst and saying she knew it with Robin laughing, you don't feel any kind of worry or fear about admitting your real feelings for Zoro. Neither of them would tell, your secret was safe as could be.

But for you, all you do is smile to yourself.

You love Zoro, more than anything. You've thought so for a while now, but finally voicing it aloud gives you a sense of peace and happiness. Whether Zoro ever returns your feelings or not, whether you two come to act as a married couple or not, you're more than happy to even stay by his side as his crewmate and friend. Even if you have to love him silently, you'd do so.

You'll hope he comes to love you back one day, but you won't force anything on him.

“I'm in love with Zoro.”

~~

Note 2: Me writing this: now KISS.

After writing: omg they kissed

[hwasoup]

Tale As Old As Time

@kit-and-wolfe drew this for me in the server so, now imma use it :') Omg hi guys, Ik its been a while since I last updated but it's mainly bc I'm not ready to say goodbye to this series yet TT there's about 2 chapters left guysss so I hope you guys understand how much I'm edging it. Anywho the chapter is finally here !! I hope you enjoy !!

warnings: fearmongering, manipulation words: 1.8k

ch.6 | next

Chapter 7: The Mob

The days have passed since y/n traveled back to the village

Eddie was simply lounging around nearby Y/N’s home, as per Ben’s instruction from a couple of days ago to alert him if Y/N was home. He was just sitting by a bush minding his own business until he looked up and saw in the distance, a woman riding on a horse as fast as the animal could take her. He squinted a bit and realized it was Y/N. Immediately he got up and ran to where Ben was located, obviously in his tavern. 

Eventually after a bit of running, he manages to catch Ben before he leaves on a hunt. Gasping for air, he holds onto the cuff of his sweater. “She’s…. She’s back…” Ben stops in his tracks and smirks to himself “well then…. it's time to initiate the plan…” On the other hand, back at the humble inventor’s cottage. Y/N swiftly made her way back home and immediately into her father’s room. She looked at him and gasped at how sickly he looked. His eyes looked sunken, and it was clear that he hasn’t exactly been able to take a bite of food in a couple of hours. Y/N quickly walked to his bedside and grabbed the nearest towel and dunked it in some cool water that was in a bucket in the corner of his room. She wrings it out and proceeds to approach him and wipe his face, hoping that his fever would subside a bit. Mauricio’s eyes slightly flutter at the feeling of cool water drying on his face, he looks up groggily and mumbled “Mija?” Y/N’s heart melted, and she whispered “shhh, no te preocupes…I’m home.”

Mauricio took a minute to process her words. His eyes widened when he fully registered that his precious daughter was sitting right before him. He immediately adjusts his posture and tries to sit up to the best of his ability "…. I thought I would never see you again...” Mauricio immediately leans in for a hug. Y/N happily returns it to him and rests her chin on his shoulder “I missed you so much…” Mauricio tightened his hug with his daughter until he remembered a specific detail... “But…but the beast. How…how did you even escape!”

“Papa, I didn’t escape…he let me go..” She says fondly. Mauricio looked at her shocked “what? The Beast did ??” Y/N unknowingly smiles fondly at the thought of the man… “yes…Miguel let me go...” Mauricio raised some eyebrows “MIGU-” he started furiously coughing. Y/N patted his back to help him ease his lungs from all of his coughing. His voice was strained from his coughs, and he cleared his voice a bit. “That…ese monstruo ?”  Y/N immediately shook her head “not a monster…he’s different…he’s quirky, silly, and incredibly gentle..he’s…. he’s changed…” She bites her lip and looks up at her father until she hears a knock on the door. “I’ll be back papa.” She stands up from sitting on the edge of the bed and goes to attend the door. A man stood at the door with a menacing grin “erm…con que te puedo ayudar..” she says hesitantly. “Vine a recoger a tu padre” he says with an eerie voice. “Wait…my papa ??” she says in surprise. Y/N stands there looking at the man with confusion in her eyes, as well as worry as she hopes that her father didn’t do anything to further tarnish the broken reputation he has in the village.

“Don’t worry senorita..we’ll take care of him” the man says as he moves from her sight and shows her a locked wooden carriage, on the side saying Psiquiátrico de alocado. Surrounding the carriage, she noticed the villagers all surrounding it, with torches and pitchforks ready to use them as weapons if it comes to that point. Y/N immediately registered what was happening and immediately protected her father “MI PAPA NO ES UN LOCO” she said with fierceness in her voice. She was pushed aside by two villagers who barged into her home and forcibly dragged-out Mauricio and threw him inside the carriage. Y/N got up immediately and tried her best to try and get him out, but all she could do was just be pushed away. Tears threatened to fall from her eyes as everything suddenly started to look hopeless. “Poor Y/N…it really is a shame about your father...” “Ben!” Y/N looked at him desperately as she held onto the hem of his shirt “please, you know he’s not crazy” Ben hummed as he played faux innocence “but you see Y/N your father… he’s been making absurd claims, but….I am able to…well clear up this small misunderstanding…if…” Y/N looks up at him desperately “If what!” Ben chuckles and grabs her by the waist making her body be pushed against his. “If you marry me” he says with a grin. Ben leans down and tries to sniff her soft hair “one small word Y/N that’s all it takes…” Anger bubbled in Y/N’s body, and she pushes him away, her nonverbal actions speaking in volumes as to her response to his manipulation tactic. Ben scowls at her and gruffly says “Have it your way then...” and he walks away to the crowd until Y/N yells “WAIT” 

“WHAT CLAIMS WAS MY FATHER EVEN MAKING” she yelled out. Ben turned to her and chuckled “oh…why about a Beast..” Y/N in that moment remembered she had the magic mirror in the pocket of her apron and she pulls it out “PLEASE ITS TRUE… I HAVE PROOF.” She looks down at the mirror and softly spoke to it  “Show me The Beast”

The mirror glowed a green color and rose into the air, a bright flashing light arose and projected an image on its reflective glass surface and revealed Miguel and his beastly appearance. Every villager, including Ben gasped at his ghastly sight. Even Eddie stepped back a bit after seeing it

In awe Ben ripped the mirror out of the air and approached the villagers “look at this sorcery, look at this BEAST!” He turned the mirror around to show the villagers “LOOK AT HIS FANGS, HIS CLAWS!”

Y/N’s heart broke at how people saw him and tried her best to defend him “No..please…don't be afraid…He’s gentle…and kind” Murmurs were heard throughout the crowd…but Ben…he was appalled…the woman he desired so much to be his wife…was calling the Beast KIND….words that she had never said to him. He turns to her in anger, anger that the Beast has clearly won her affections and in an accusatory tone pointed at her 

“The monster has her under his spell…. IF I DIDN'T”T KNOW BETTER I CAN SAY SHE CARES FOR HIM” “HE'S NOT A MONSTER BEN…YOU ARE” Ben’s face grimaced, but he had to mask it in front of the villagers “I’ve heard of the effects of Dark Magic, but never like this…” Ben decided on what to do. “THIS IS A THREAT TO THE BANE OF OUR EXISTENCE” The villagers cheered in agreement as they truly believed that Y/N was under a spell and that she is now a danger.  “WE CAN'T HAVE HER WARNING THE CREATURE, LOCK HER UP TOO !”

Y/N’s heart shattered as she was immediately grabbed by the arms of Ben, the man of the carriage opened the doors and allowed Ben to throw her inside the wooden box alongside her father as well and closed the doors of it as well. His face was filled with fury, until he felt a hand on his shoulder. It was Eddie.. “Ben… with all due respect but-”

“SHUT IT OR YOU'LL BE WITH THEM TOO, AND FETCH MY HORSE”

Eddie’s voice reduced to a whimper and he looked down…He knew this was wrong…what was originally a menacing plan had now become just pure cruelty. He knew he couldn’t fight against an angry Ben so he stayed silent and left to do what he was instructed.

Ben then proceeded to initiate a riot with the villagers, to prepare to fight, to encourage them to kill the Beast. Each villager went into their homes and brought out muskets, pitchforks, knives, torches, anything that could be used as a weapon. After what seemed minutes, Ben led a mob of angry villagers and used the magic mirror to find where the castle was located and led them out and directly into the woods.

______________________________________________________________ Inside the carriage however Y/N was huddled beside her father as she tried to check on his health despite the severe conditions they were in. Y/N was scared for Miguel…she wanted to warn him desperately, but she also needed to watch her father. She thought long and hard until she decided that she needed to warn Miguel.

“Papa…I need to warn him..” Mauricio looked up at her and coughed “Ay Mija..but…I- I’m scared for you…It will be dangerous” Y/N crouched beside him and nodded “yes…it will be..but, he did everything for me…he even gifted me his library..” Mauricio’s eyes widened “a library ? How many books are there ?” Y/N chuckled “more than what this village can even hold, Papa..trust me…he saved me from the wolves and now..I must repay him..” Mauricio looked into her eyes and saw a look that he had never seen in his precious daughter’s eyes. He used to have that look when he was younger and when his wife was alive. He then smiled softly knowing that well…his daughter is all grown up now, even if she hasn’t realized it herself. “If it what your heart desires…then…I could try and pick the lock” Y/N smiled as she listened to her father ramble “After all, it's only just gears and springs” he reached his hand outside the bars of the carriage to get a hold of the lock. “ But..I would need something..” he turns to look at her “shar…p” Y/N was already holding a hair pin on the palm of her hand. Mauricio chuckled and took it into his hands “perfect” He then placed his hands back out of the bars and took a hold of the lock again and used the pin to start picking at it. He eventually finally opened the lock and pushed the doors of the carriage open, quickly getting himself out as well as y/n. He turned to her and ran with her to the stables and whispered to her “take Felipe as well as this coat and go warn your friend” Y/N nodded and whispered a small thank you to him as she quickly packed everything and immediately got on Felipe and rode on him, holding onto the reins as she prayed that the trusty steed would gallop as quickly as possible to the castle.

Maurico watched as she disappeared back into the forest and smiled softly, reiterating the thoughts he had before…

 his daughter was in love…even if she hasn’t realized or admitted it yet.

taglist:

@cupcakeinat0r , @miguelhugger2099, @mcmiracles,@xxsugarbonesxx,@codenameredkrystalmatrix,@deputy-videogamer,@lxverrings,@miguelzslvtz,@itsameclinicaldepression,,@ricekrisbris,@loser-alert , @thedevax, @uncle-eggy, @m4dyy, @freehentai, @synamonthy, @razertail18, @s0lm1n,

@badbishsblog, @faimmm, @keendreamknight, @texanadmirer, @stargirrls, @itzsab,@delectableworm,@jadeloverxd @pinkmistart, kishimiest,

[333creolelady]

Lady Of The Blue Bakunawa Ch.9 (Finale)

Afab! Black OC x Roman Reigns (Pirate Au)

Warnings: SEX, Fem rec oral, Male rec oral, P in V penetration, Cursing, Discussions about Racism/ Systematic oppression, very light angst (with heavy fluff omg)

Word Count: A Whopping 34k. I am so sorry.

Official playlist link

Alternative playlist link

Official songs for this chapter: The whole world, Le style du Barry, Le lever du, Concerto G, Sonatas, The zong, Lord Mansfield, First impressions, The living sculptures, Darcy’s letter, Jeanne Versailles, spring 1, Malena Titoli di coda, To the ball, Academy, Laverton, Merry, Misirlou, Danube, The pink room, You would be my wife, You already, Nobody gets me (classical).

Alternative songs for this chapter: The gentle rain, Flick, From scratch, Guitar song, 26, The only exception, We’ll never have sex, Futile devices, Love Story, Hide, Breathe, Possibly Maybe, Lover you should have come over, Feel like home.

Cover by @joannasteez

<-Chapter 8

<- Back to Masterlist

Jane Pov

There were many inexplicable occurrences that happened as a result of the island. For one, the seasons had changed. They were spat out somewhere between Totoguam and a British occupied port. This was a relief, as it would take them a very long time to get back to Europe from where they came. It took 6 weeks flat to reach the Port of Tillbury.

Jane agreed to accompany Roman to meet an old friend in Paris and take a breather after such a vigorous quest. A quarter of the pirates parted ways with the group to pay off debts, return to family, visit family, or simply retire. William was included in that group of people. Understandably so, he needed to make things right with his wife. Doctor Earl decided to stay a bit longer, simply stating that his work was not done yet. Caden would be accompanying Jane and Roman on their trip.

Before any real break could happen, business had to be dealt with. Roman left early in the morning to travel to London to clear warrants. Jane spent the day preparing for their trip. She started packing the new sets of clothes that Roman had picked out for her. Shoes, dresses, shifts, stockings, garters, stays, modesty slips, caps and fichus, paniers, petticoats, and engageantes. Roman had gone on a bit of an impulsive spending spree as he was terribly sorry about the destruction of the last ship and all their personal belongings. After packing her items she moved onto his. She prepared her hair in small twists, hoping to not be bothered with it for a week or two. The slip of her hair pomade in her hand made her grateful to be back in the general population.

With a smaller group of pirates, dinner took half the time to cook. Tilbury wasn’t particularly known for its fresh produce or quality cuts of meat. The boat had better food. Beef and potatoes were a favorite and it was a favorite this night just as any other night. Roman came back with a tired but satisfied look on his face. She could tell by his smile that the day had gone well. Before she can utter a word, his mouth is on hers, giving her a generous and suggestive greeting after so many hours apart.

“ Dinner is ready. Caden helped”, She pulled away from the kiss with a chuckle, slapping her hand across his chest.

A goofy grin spreads across his face “ Great. Let us enjoy our meal in the bedroom”, he suggests lowly. She looks around at all the men sitting in the dining hall. They were far too busy stuffing their faces. Roman motions for the door with his eyes, trying his best to convince her. “come on”, he whispered to her. He’s already holding his plate and hers. She pulls off her apron and sets it on the seat. One of the lower ranking pirates hoots suggestively as the two disappear behind the door. Roman doesn’t even bother his typical threats from his cheery mood.

The two reach the bedroom and she sets the plates on the table, pouring a glass of water for the both of them from the picher that sat near the window sill. Roman strips himself off his coat, waistcoat, and shirt. He pulls off his tricorn hat and takes down his hair from his respectful ponytail.

“ You’re in a good mood”, Jane laughs.

“ I am. I have great news. I was able to clear up some warrants for myself and the crew. You don’t even have a warrant anymore.” Jane perks up at those words.

“ Indeed, you are declared missing in the country of England. This is because they found no remains. This means that all your debts and warrants have been cleared. You are free”, Roman quips.

“ Free…”, the word bounces off her tongue in a peculiar way. She supposed that life in London was no freedom after all. If one could even call what she had before a life.

Roman sat next to her, throwing his arm around her shoulder and pulling her temple to his mouth for a peck.

“ A fresh start. You can even choose a new name if you like not that it will matter. I don’t have much business to do with London at this point. You won’t have to go back here if you do not wish to”, he assured her.

“ Processing the paperwork will taking some time. We will head to Paris by carriage the day after tomorrow. Caden will escort you to the shops tomorrow to get anything you need for our stay which will be three weeks long.”

Jane brows raise in surprise “ Three weeks?..What on earth will we be doing for three whole weeks?”

Roman playfully rolls his eyes, “ Can a man not surprise and plan things for the woman he loves? If you were supposed to know I would have told you by now ”, he chuckles.

“ Not even a hint….you’ll spare me ?”, Jane scoffs.

“ It’s a vacation”, Roman muttered, scraping the last bit of potatoes off his plate. Jane was so excited she couldn’t even finish her meal and instead pushed her plate towards his.

“I suppose that will be enough. I’ll try to get more out of you later… I have my ways,” she teased. A rumble in his chest tickled her ears as she stifled a laugh and he pulled her into his lap.

Roman leaned into the crook of her neck. “Spoiled rotten… never let me have the last word, can you?” He quickly caught her off guard with a smack to her bum. She squealed, jumping up and diving for the bed.

As promised, the day after the next, two carriages awaited them at the end of the dock, drawn by four large white horses. The carriages were brown with gold embroidery—no doubt they were expensive. The coachmen placed Jane’s and Roman’s luggage on top of the carriage. Roman helped her step inside while the coachmen held the door open for her. Inside the small cushioned box were three medium-sized windows with retractable blinds. There were two cushioned benches adorned with beautiful swirly embroidery around the perimeter of the carriage. The ceiling was dark red with gold designs dancing across it. Jane sat down, and Roman sat across from her. The coachmen closed the door and opened the two additional windows to let in the light.

“The quality of this carriage… it’s so rich. It almost looks like a royal carriage,” Jane said, looking around in awe. It even smelled nice. A beat of silence passes. “Is this a royal carriage?” Jane frowned in confusion. Roman chuckled knowingly.

“I take it you haven’t traveled in very good carriages before?” he deflected. Jane rolled her eyes, aware of his angle but deciding to drop it.

“I wouldn’t call a wooden bench staring at the back of a horse’s arse particularly ‘good,’ so I’m easily impressed so far,” she snorted.

He chortled. “Well, if it’s that easy to impress you, prepare to be astonished once more… very soon.”

“How long before we get to Paris?”

“All of today. We won’t reach Paris until nightfall.” Roman removed his jacket and rolled it behind him into a pillow.

A day was nothing. The two of them lost track of time in conversation—a common occurrence when they were together. Roman told old pirate stories, and Jane listened intently. The bottle of ale certainly helped keep the topics interesting. Eventually, around midnight, Jane could wait for Paris a second longer. After a long rant about a specific color of dress she could never seem to find, she slumped against his chest. Sleep claimed her, and Roman, a bit of a night owl, decided to join her in slumber. He didn’t want to miss her reaction.

Jane's body sensed the carriage stop, stirring her awake, which in turn woke Roman. He looped an arm around her waist and pulled her upright before opening a blind. Jane gasped as she looked out the window.

A palace? Why would she be at a palace of all places? Why would Roman take her to a palace when he practically hated nobility? None of it made sense. She glanced between his eyes and the massive property just feet away.

A little knock on the door startled her, as she couldn’t see anyone standing there. Reluctantly, she opened the door. A small voice cleared its throat, and her eyes shot down to a sandy-brown-haired girl with large, poofy ringlets split into two ponytails on either side of her head. She wore a child’s nightdress with a robe and matching pink slippers. Her large eyes, tiny bulbous nose, and round pink lips made her look like a little cherub. More surprisingly, she was incredibly tiny, appearing to be around four to six years old. Maybe it was because Jane hadn’t been around many children; most of the earls and ladies she had worked for were older with grown children. The little girl smiled at her. “Bonjour! Parles-tu français?” she asked.

“Uh… no,” Jane replied awkwardly, a small chuckle rising from her chest as the little girl eyed her curiously.

“Hello, my name is Eloise!” the little girl said, sticking her tiny hand out to Jane. Her accent was distinctly French, and her voice was sweet yet clear, as if she had spoken two languages her entire life.

Jane, bewildered but charmed, took the child’s hand in her own and introduced herself. “Jane,” she smiled.

The child turned to Roman. “And you must be Papa’s friend. He said you were coming. He’s not back yet from his hunting trip with Mama, but don’t worry. I can give you a tour since he’s not here. I know all the rooms of the palace and the—”

“Eloise! What did I say?! You are to be in bed! Une dame ne salue pas ses invités dans ses vêtements de nuit. A lady must be presentable!” a woman called from the top of the steps leading to the entrance of the palace.

The little girl took off running into the palace, a guard jogging behind her, shadowing her every move. Jane and Roman stepped out of the carriage as she disappeared around a dimly lit corner. A woman in her fifties with deep brown hair, green cat-like eyes, a long defined nose, and cherry-red lips approached the couple. She wore a long deep green gown, and her hair was styled in a puffy updo. Jane glanced back to see Caden still in his carriage parked a few inches away, greeted by a different courtier.

“Monsieur Roman, Mademoiselle Ramlal—welcome. My name is Beatrice. I split my time between being a governess to Lady Eloise and a courtier for the Duchess of Orleans. The Duke will be so pleased to have you both here,” she said, respectfully curtsying and smiling at them.

“Hi… Is this… Versailles?” Jane asked, looking around curiously at the architecture.

The woman covered her mouth to suppress a chuckle. “No, ma’am. This is Palais Royal—home to the Duke and the Duchess. However, Versailles is just up the road, an hour away by carriage. You will experience the wonders of the King’s home soon enough. Not to worry.”

“Thank you, Beatrice. This is Jane’s first time in Paris, so she’ll need some time to adjust”, says Roman.

“Of course! Let me show you to your room, and we can do a tour of the property after the Duke and Duchess return. Let us take the short way, as I know you two must be very tired. Right this way,” Beatrice smiled kindly, signaling to the officers to unload the luggage, which was then picked up by four servants who appeared quietly in the background.

On the short walk to their quarters, Jane took it all in—what she could see, at least. Before her stood an architectural giant, its grandeur dwarfing the buildings in England. It worried her slightly that Versailles would be even bigger than this. The palace, with its striking classical façade, was an intricate tapestry of columns and arches. Tall Corinthian pillars, fluted and carefully proportioned, rose imposingly toward the sky, framing the grand entrance like sentinels of history. The creamy stone glowed warmly against the light, each detail sharp and vivid against the Parisian night sky.

Jane’s gaze swept over the expansive courtyard, where the geometric design of the paving stones seemed to lead her deeper into the heart of the palace. To her left, the vast gardens unfurled, their manicured hedges and vibrant flowerbeds a riot of color, contrasting beautifully with the pale stone of the building.

The sheer scale of the Palais Royal filled her with awe; it seemed to stretch endlessly, a labyrinth of wealth and privilege. How did people live like this? The intricate ironwork of the balconies twinkled in the moonlight, and the ornate sculptures perched atop the façade looked down like ancient figures, frozen in time. Every detail—the delicate carvings, the imposing gates, the shimmering windows—left her wide-eyed. This was not just a palace; it was a gateway to a life that was completely alien to her old one. And she thought the Earl she worked for was rich?

“Roman, we are criminals. We cannot be here,” she whispered quietly to him as they walked behind the governess. They were in the foyer, heading up a marble staircase so clean she felt she could eat off it.

He looked down at her, noticing her nervous glances over her shoulder as if there was a guard about to handcuff her. “Do you really think I’d take you somewhere where they would arrest you? It’s taken care of, remember? Besides, the Duke and I are childhood friends. He would sooner hide us than give us up to the law—a law we are no longer in trouble with. Relax. It’s what you’re supposed to do on vacation.” He looked down at her again as she continued to glance around suspiciously. Jane could send him into hysterics when she wanted to. This was one of those moments. She grabbed his large hand tightly, and he squeezed her small fist reassuringly.

“Okay. Here are your quarters. The Duke has informed us that you would like to share a room,” Beatrice led them down a winding, tall, echoey hallway that Jane nearly slipped on. She wasn’t used to walking on stone yet. They arrived at the room, and Beatrice opened the door. Jane held back a gasp.

The bedroom was lavish and opulent. The room featured grand, ornate furnishings with rich fabrics and intricate detailing. The walls were adorned with delicate wallpaper in a soft goldish-brown color with floral patterns. A large, canopied bed served as the centerpiece, draped in expensive linens and surrounded by tapestries.

Gilded accents and antique mirrors with elegant chandeliers illuminate the room with a warm, soft glow. Decorative vases and fresh flowers bring life and color to the space. Cushioned gold chairs and mahogany tables line either side of the room. A small table and two chairs sit near the large window with a balcony. The rug is spotless; not even a speck of dust or dirt can be seen on it, despite its cream and gold colors. The fireplace is large, with fresh wood sitting inside it. The room is adorned with ancestral paintings and murals. The marble floor features intricate designs. The ceiling is gold-trimmed.

“Your things will be here shortly. Ms. Ramlal, your measurements will need to be taken.”

“Oh—I brought my own dresses, no worries,” said Jane.

“This will be for your Versailles trip. Here, the court is a little more relaxed. However, Versailles is more traditional. The King doesn’t particularly like British fashion, so you’ll have to respect the rules of his court. Otherwise, you may insult him. His Highness is a little more… particular, ” Beatrice explained gently.

Jane blinked with surprise. “Oh—I was not aware. Thank you for letting me know.”

“My pleasure. Oh look, your bags have arrived,” Beatrice said, stepping aside to allow the male servants to place the luggage trunks next to the room dividers at the far end of the room. Two more servants, this time female, entered the room. They greeted her quietly, and she returned the favor. Roman was sitting in a chair, going through a small bookshelf that sat on the opposite side of the room. Jane walked to the full-length mirror next to the suitcases and allowed the ladies to take her measurements. The process took all of two minutes before they left with a swift curtsy.

“You two enjoy the rest of your evening. There will be a Butler named Joffrey stationed outside your door. If there is anything you need, report to him, and he will have it done. Is there anything else I can assist you two with?”

Roman stood from his sitting position. “No, that will be all, Beatrice. We truly appreciate your hospitality. I wish you a good night.”

“And you as well. See you both in the morning, Monsieur..Mademoiselle,” Beatrice curtsied and left.

Jane let out a long sigh, relaxing her shoulders. “Goodness. I felt like I was in a play.”

Roman chuckled knowingly. “The people of the court are almost as intense as the royalty. Every nicety must be observed. Every interaction is uptight. But trust me, the Duke and the Duchess are not like that.”

Jane looked around the room, turning her body to take in each part of it. At the end of the room sat assorted berries, chocolate, chocolate-covered berries, scones, soups, cheeses, breads, and wines. Jane rushed over to pick a berry from the tray.

“Mmm…” she said, picking another and putting it in her mouth. Utensils lined the tables. She picked one up, only to realize it was pure gold. The thought tickled her. Wouldn’t silver be just fine?

Chocolate was a rare delicacy. She’d tasted it maybe twice in her life and then never again.

“Fan of chocolate?” Roman smiled, watching her pick over the food table.

“Fan of anything sweet, if you couldn’t tell,” she chuckled.

Roman stood, his knees groaning from sitting all day. He pulled off his dress coat and placed it on the side of the chair. “The Persians love their sweets, so you won’t leave this place unsatisfied. Come, let me loosen your corset.”

Jane washed down her berries with a splash of wine before she shuffled over to Roman, kicking off her heels and letting her toes sink into the carpet. Roman stood behind her with his tall stature, pulling down the straps of her corset and loosening the ribbons that wound up her back. The final tug at the bottom of the corset popped the cage loose, allowing the fabric to fall down to her hips. She could feel her breasts spill out, but she made no move to hold them. She carefully pulled it off, revealing a thin, sheer undergarment slip she wore underneath. She lifted the garment over her shoulders and tossed it on the floor, leaving herself in bloomers and nothing else. She felt a calloused finger trail along her back and up her right shoulder. There it was again, that tension that had been brewing for weeks. She peeked over her shoulder, and his eyes were focused on her skin, painting small circles and patterns against her back and shoulder. His pupils, darker than usual, met her own, and she nearly flinched from the heat of them. They stayed there for a minute while a silent conversation was held.

Any day now, it would happen. His lust was so incontestable, so palpable, she could reach out and touch it. He took a step back and surrendered to their circumstances. No, not yet. Close, but not quite yet. It had been a long day, and his eyes lowered to her dress on the floor. He picked it up and set it alongside her luggage.

When she entered the elaborate bathroom, she noticed a large, spacious marble bathtub sitting by the window. She requested a bath, and Roman took his shortly after hers. The exhaustion set in fast as the two barely uttered goodnight before reaching deep sleep.

The morning sun illuminated every corner of the gold-speckled room, creating a shiny and soft haze over her eyes. To wake up glowing was strange after living inside a wooden ship for the better part of a year. Jane sat up to find that Roman was gone, which made her a bit nervous. A small note sat on her pillow, and she opened it.

“Gone to have a smoke with Arnaud. Pull the rope, and your chambermaids will come and get you ready for breakfast. I’ll see you soon.”

Arnaud? That must be the Duke. She pulled on her bathrobe and walked to the golden rope hanging by the door. She tugged it twice and stood in front of her bed, waiting to see if the maids would arrive. When they did, they greeted her quietly and walked her over to the center of the room.

She wasn’t really sure how to speak to the servants; part of her felt guilty. She used to be one. But how does one possibly speak from the other side of it? She supposed it was best to let them do their jobs. Most of the time, she just wanted to be left alone in the presence of the wealthy. Small talk bored her, and she had a million other worries on her mind than which outfit looked better on which hair color. So she let them work her clothes off in silence.

What happened next was absolutely ridiculous. She realized she hadn’t been dressed by another person since she was at least five years old. She was dressed in layers, more layers than she was used to. She felt like a noblewoman, and somehow the dresses she had brought with her, came alive in a way they hadn’t before.

This dress was light pink and frilly. It almost made her look like she belonged in this place. It had bows, lace, and a dramatic bust. The dressmaker had stressed to her how something this beautiful could only be worn somewhere of beauty. He told her that she must wait for a special occasion—now was the occasion. What else would you wear to breakfast in a palace? She put on matching pink pearl jewelry. The price was exorbitant, but it was something that Roman had picked out for her. Things were different now; money was no issue, despite the feeling not yet setting in. The dresses he had bought her when they first met were nice—expensive dresses even—but this was on a whole new level.

The ladies huddled around her and added a pink rouge to her cheeks that complemented her skin tone well. Then, they added a lightly tinted glossy pigment to her mouth that caught the light perfectly. They used a waxy substance on her lashes to elongate them and then pressed a clean-scented powder to her skin. It was perfume, she realized. She never really bothered with perfume, but this one was gorgeous. It smelt like vanilla…cake and berries. She kept raising her wrist to her nose to smell it. One of the mousy maids reached for her hair, and Jane gently grabbed her hand to stop her.

“Madame… your hair… do you not want it styled?” she asked curiously.

“Uh… my hair is a bit of a mystery. I can’t style it like the other ladies; it’s far too… complicated. Please, let me figure it out” Jane scrambled. She ended her sentence with an awkward chuckle as the two maids looked at her strangely.

“No worries, madam. Eloise has special hair too; it requires gentle hands. One moment,” the maid said before disappearing to speak with the butler outside the room.

Jane and the chambermaids sat in awkward silence for a painful five minutes. A woman rounded the corner, her hair wrapped. She wore a white variation of the maid's dress, and her face was kind and smiling. Jane realized that this woman was the first person she’d seen who looked like her in ages. Her shoulders relaxed, and she let out a long sigh.

“Mary, madame. I see you are in need of a hairdresser? I can help” the woman asked in a thick French accent.

“Well, I was just going to wear it in twists,” Jane muttered.

“Twists are pretty, but maybe something more elaborate to go with such a detailed outfit. Trust me, mademoiselle, I’ve touched many heads like yours,” she suggests. A knowing smile crossed her face, disarming Jane. She spoke with such old wisdom that Jane immediately nodded.

Mary whispered something to the maids, and they left. She gently began to take Jane’s hair down, twirling the soft curls around themselves. The maids returned with curling rods and other hair products. They started a fire in the fireplace and quietly dismissed themselves. Now it was just Mary and Jane.

“You do this style often?” Mary asked.

“Yes… when I’m not wrapping it up. Can you tell?” Jane replied shyly.

“The hair has memory for sure. It’s very healthy—that’s a hard thing to maintain when you have so little product to work with. I made these creams myself. I use them on la petite Eloise. Her hair is thick and not quite like other little girls her age. It requires some work, but it’s very beautiful. She only allows me to touch it.”

“It used to be even harder, so I would just wrap it. It was hard to keep it soft at times. I had to make my own product before…” Jane stopped herself. Was she talking too much? This woman hadn’t asked for her life story. And why did she suddenly feel so self-conscious about what Mary might think of her? Jane tucked her lips as she snuck a glance at the woman in the mirror.

“Before… go on,” Mary chuckled.

Jane cleared her throat. “Before I met the gentleman I traveled with.”

“Ahh… Monsieur Roman. I’ve heard many stories about him. He is the Duke’s longest friend, and he’s supposed to be very fierce. Sir Roman is he your…?” Mary trailed off as she parted Jane's hair. Jane looked down into her lap. Would it be in bad taste to say the truth? They weren’t married. Truthfully, she didn’t think it would matter; they would go back to being pirates after this. Pirates don’t have wives.

“My companion. M-my friend,” Jane blurted. Women don’t have male ‘friends’, especially not in high society, but it’s not like she had a ring to say otherwise.

“I see. Well, he certainly will be able to tell you a thing or two about Paris. He used to frequent Paris quite a bit. I’ve seen him around”

Jane’s mind went blank. Why had she suddenly forgotten how to speak to a woman? She needed more friends, that’s for sure. “Yes. He brought me here as a surprise. D-do you like Paris?”

“Like? Sometimes. I think it’s easier to see the beauty in a place when you don’t live there. I can at least admire the architecture.”

“Yes. The buildings are a sight to see.”

Mary brushed Jane’s hair in sections, clipping up most of it while pulling a small piece out. She walked over to the fire and placed a long metal rod above the flames. After about a minute, she returned to the styling chair and wrapped a piece of cloth around Jane’s hair. She looped the hair around the heated rod, using the cloth as a barrier. After twenty seconds, she released the hair to reveal a large ringlet. Jane gasped.

“Wow,” she said, touching her hair gently with the tips of her fingers. She didn’t want to mess up the style, but it amazed her. Somehow, it made her hair look longer yet the curl was more dramatic. She’d never manipulated her hair in that way. “You are going to do that all over my head, just like this?!”

Mary burst into laughter. “You look like little Eloise after I do her hair. She jumps out of her seat and then starts dancing and posing in the mirror. Of course, mademoiselle, it’s why I’m here. Now hold still,” Mary said, resting the rod on a thick piece of cloth and pulling out another section of hair.

Jane could feel her excitement bubbling over as Mary continued to work on her hair. She couldn’t remember the last time she got excited about something like this. Having her hair done was a luxury she wasn’t sure she could part with.

“So… what part of France are you from?”

“I am from Haiti, but I came to Paris when I was about eight years old. I grew up here in Palais Royal with the former Duke—the King’s brother. My mother was a dressmaker, and I was her little assistant.”

“Ah, I see. Do you live here in the Palais? Or away?”

“Oui, in the servants’ quarters. Though I have my own apartment due to Eloise’s favor. The Duke treats his staff quite well,” Mary spoke with a relaxed tone, as if Jane were her longtime girlfriend. She liked that. The other maids seemed so high-strung and tense.

“I’m not from here… in Europe, I mean. I’m from Trinidad. I came to Europe as a child too,” Jane admitted. She felt a weight lift from her shoulders. She wasn’t about to pretend to be something she wasn’t.

“An island girl like myself? Who would have thought. What a peculiar place for us to be, no?”

“Peculiar indeed.”

“So I take it you’re not a former Kings gift? Or rather a Bastard to a Duke or Marquis?” Mary said playfully, with a suspicious tone.

Jane held back a laugh. “What gave it away?”

“You look me in the eye when you talk.”

Jane pondered that for a second. She remembered those days slaving away over a stove, serving a dish to people who couldn’t see her. She was invisible. Over time, that invisibility became a comfort.

“And if they were to look you in the eye, they would only be looking at their reflection in it,” Jane quipped absentmindedly. Mary let out a high-pitched laugh.

“What was your job before this?” Mary asked, working quickly and already finishing the back and crown of Jane’s head.

“Cook. I have fingertips of steel. I could probably wrap my hand around that rod and not feel a thing,” Jane joked.

“Explains the humor. Well, Madame Jane, I can tell that you and I are going to get along just fine,” Mary grinned knowingly.

The two fell into chatter and banter like friends. Mary was funny, and she seemed to know so much about everything. Jane even had to excuse herself from cursing a few times as it slipped out. Mary found it funny. The connection could only be explained as the harmony of having a conversation with another woman—there was nothing quite like it. And while Roman was the keeper of her secrets, he preferred to pacify and soothe. But talking to a woman—there was something almost spiritual about it. The idea that someone would just “get it,” whatever that “it” might be. The comfort in knowing that somewhere, your stories lined up, even if just for an instant.

Mary pinned Jane’s hair in a rolling pattern that accentuated her long neck. She left a singular thick curl hanging down against her shoulder. Then she dusted Jane's hairline with a pink sparkly gold powder that matched her pale pink dress and makeup. Jane gasped when she saw herself in the mirror.

“What do you call this style?!”

“The tête de mouton, or sheep's head. The ladies in Paris love this style.”

“I see why. Wow, I’ve never looked like this before. I mean, you practically did magic!” Jane exclaimed, brushing a finger against the curl on her shoulder.

“I am very pleased you like it, madame. Now one moment. The governess wants to meet with you before breakfast. I’ll see you soon,” Mary said, stepping back and curtsying before leaving the room.

Jane stood in front of the mirror, eyeing every detail. She’d never looked so beautiful. She pondered if the novelty of being dressed and styled to perfection wore off for wealthy women. She could never tire of this—of feeling pretty.

The governess broke her out of her trance with a clearing of her throat. Jane turned around and curtsied. The governess returned the gesture and walked further into the room. Jane couldn’t help but feel that these sorts of greetings were growing tiresome. The governess was a serious woman but kind enough. “Don’t worry about curtsying back to the help. A short, quick curtsy to ladies of the court is fine. More dramatic and precise curtsies are suitable for nobility. Just remember to bow to the Duke and Duchess. They are to be referred to as 'Your Grace.' We will go over other things for your Versailles trip. Are you ready?” she said.

Jane sensed that the governess was in a rush, so she didn’t bother to ask any questions yet. “I am.”

“Splendid. Follow me,” said Beatrice. Their heels tapped against shiny winding staircases. It took every bit of five minutes to reach the entrance of the dining room. Two guards stood on either side of the double doors and opened them for the pair.

“Madamoiselle Jane of London,” a white-wigged announcer called from the back of the room. It nearly startled Jane, but she stepped into the path of the room and walked through the doors. A ridiculously long table, which nearly stretched across the entire room, revealed little Eloise, the Duke, the Duchess, Roman, and Caden. Each corner of the room had a guard, and a line of cooks stood near the entrance of the kitchen. Everyone stood as the Duke and his wife joined hands and walked closer to where Jane stood. She bowed alongside the governess, muttering “Your Grace” and “Pleasure to meet you.”

“Oh, I can’t help it!” Charlotte lunged for Jane and wrapped her arms around her. She was a pale woman with curly, frizzy strawberry-blonde hair, large downturned green eyes, a button nose, and a bow-shaped mouth. She had a single mole on her right cheek. Slightly shorter than Jane, her comically large bust nearly cut off Jane’s circulation when she squeezed her so tight.

“Hi, call me Charlotte! Arnaud has told me so much about you two. You’re even more gorgeous than Roman could have ever described in the letter. I’m so happy to have you here!” the woman squeaked. Her British accent surprised Jane. Blinking at her with a flustered look, Jane smiled at the radiant woman before her. Charlotte had a porcelain-doll quality, and her bubbly personality fit her well; however, Jane hadn’t expected her voice to be so high.

“Nice to meet you, Charlotte.”

The Duke offered his hand for a shake, and Jane took it, happy to be over with the formalities. “Arnaud, It’s so nice to finally meet you. I hope you enjoy your stay here in Paris.” His French accent was thick, but she understood him clearly. Arnaud was tall, almost as tall as Roman. He had a thick beard, slanted almond eyes, a broad nose, full downturned lips, and dark skin. For a moment, the concept didn’t register, and a blank stare crept onto Jane’s face as she held his hand.

“You’re the Duke ?” she asked, dumbfounded.

A knowing smile crept onto Arnaud’s face. “I have my paperwork to prove it if you don’t believe me.”

“No—sorry. I mean… you know what? Never mind,” Jane scrambled to find the words.

“Relax. I get it. Not what you were expecting,” Arnaud laughed.

“Well… no,” Jane sputtered.

Suddenly, something tiny and furry ran through the gap between Jane’s feet, causing her to nearly stumble off balance. Arnaud caught her. A tiny body pushed past her feet on all fours, yelling in French.

“Mauvais chat! Come back here!” Eloise shouted.

“Good heavens!” the Governess gasped, clutching her chest. Eloise was chasing a white fluffy cat around the expensive dining room on all fours, meowing like a cat.

“Eloise! What did I tell you about chasing that cat?! Get off the floor! You’re terrorizing the poor thing!” Charlotte dodged for the little girl, crawling on the ground herself as Eloise chased the cat under the dining table. It was truly a sight to see, as most high born mothers did not bother reprimanding or even parenting their children.

Jane wasn’t sure if it was appropriate to laugh, but she had never seen anything like it in her life. Then the guards started chasing after all three of them—the cat, Eloise, and the Duchess—trying to prevent an accident and stop the cat from running up the drapes.

Arnaud turned to Jane with a tired look. “One thing I can say—I am never bored in this house.”

“I can see that,” Jane chuckled as he walked her to her seat next to Roman.

Roman pulled her chair out for her, and she took a seat, taking in all the wonderful dishes. A male servant greeted her and set a plate in front of her. The Duke sat across from them as if utter chaos wasn’t unfolding in front of them and started loading Jane’s plate with food. No one of Arnaud’s status had ever served her food.

She could feel Roman draw closer as he whispered, “You look stunning.”

“I hope so after how long it took to get ready,” she smiled.

Roman took her hand and kissed the back of it. Jane looked to Caden, who had been quiet as a mouse this entire time, watching Charlotte crawl past him with a determined look on her face as she grabbed hold of Eloise’s leg. Suddenly, Roman shifted in his seat and caught Eloise with one hand, lifting her in the air. There was a tiny shrill of her voice before she went limp in his iron grip.

“Pas juste!” she pouted. (No fair)

To Jane’s surprise, Roman muttered, “La vie n'est pas juste,” chuckling at the cat darting underneath the chairs before it was caught by a guard. (Life is not fair)

“Maybe for you,” Eloise teased.

Charlotte grabbed the child and quickly swatted her on the bottom, though it made no difference given how thick the child’s dress was. Instead, she just snickered as the governess took her to her room. Charlotte fixed her hair and straightened her dress before sitting down next to her husband. Order was restored to the room as Charlotte regained her breath. Arnaud looked to his wife and whispered something to her that caused her to giggle.

“I apologize that you all had to be subjected to that chaos. Eloise is a very advanced child, which means that left to her own devices, she will attempt to dominate whoever or whatever is in her vicinity,” Arnaud admitted. He almost looked proud of it, which made Jane look away to avoid laughing even harder.

“We hope the food is to your liking,” Charlotte added. They dug into the food, and at first, there was just the quiet of chewing and plate scraping. Then Caden decided to break the silence.

“So, Arnaud, how did you and Roman meet?” asked Caden. Jane finally got a good look at him now. A year’s worth of grime had been washed from his light chocolate hair, and he looked every bit of his teenage years—so baby-faced and bushy-tailed. He wore a matching brown jacket with black trousers. His hair was pulled back in a low ponytail. He looked uncomfortable, which was understandable. Although Roman and Jane had interacted with nobility in the past, Caden had never even seen a palace up close. Jane would be sure to check in with him when she had the chance.

“Roman and I are what one might say—adopted. We have a very similar backstory. We met when I took a trip to Germany as a young boy. The king was negotiating with their territory, and I saw someone my age playing in the ballroom. No introductions needed. Instant friends.”

“And he’s been a pain in my arse ever since,” Roman grumbled.

“Who are you telling? I can’t get rid of you,” Arnaud bantered.

“So I suspect your home is a bit further away?” Jane asked curiously. She hoped she wasn’t being too forward, but she had to know.

“Sierra Leone, actually.”

“I see,” a sad expression crossed her face. He was indeed a long way from home, just as she and Roman and Mary were—a feeling so unique from regular homesickness.

“What about yourself?” asked Arnaud.

“Trinidad, originally.”

One of his brows twitched in surprise. “How on earth did you two meet?”

“He… saved my life, actually.”

Roman rubbed the back of his neck. Jane didn’t understand his hesitance. “Long story…”

Jane took his hand and placed it on his lap subtly, not wanting to draw attention. It was reassurance. She felt safe to open up a bit. Arnaud and Charlotte were already drawn in, judging by their concerned expressions.

Jane cleared her throat. No turning back now. “Yes… he found me. The ship I was traveling on had a terrible accident. I was floating on a life raft for God knows how long. He found me and helped me get better. That was over a year ago. I owe my life to him.”

“You’ve saved my life as well. You have no debt with me, I assure you,” Roman muttered back quietly.

“Wow… what a strange way to meet a person. I’m so very glad you’re here with us, Jane,” said Charlotte.

“Who are you in relation to Roman?” Arnaud asked Caden.

“Roman took me in when I was young. He’s looked after me ever since. If you start meeting a lot of his friends, you’ll notice a pattern: everybody owes them their life. He nursed me back to health too. I think he has an affinity for finding the strays of the world,” Caden joked.

Arnaud let out a quick snort. “Very maternal, that one.”

“Now you’re pushing it,” Roman warned Arnaud. He chortled at Roman’s irritation.

“What about you, Charlotte? How did you and Arnaud meet, and how long have you been together?” asked Jane.

“A tavern in Southwark. His carriage broke down, and he came inside to have dinner. I served him. That was seven years ago now,” Charlotte smiled as she remembered the day fondly. Jane was even more confused.

“Served him?” Jane tilted her head.

“Why yes, I can only sell the highborn act for so long. I served beer to drunkards for a living, darling. My father was a farmer,” she giggled.

And there it was. Charlotte had a very approachable quality about her. Despite how pretty she was, there was a carefreeness to her that only someone working in the general public could have.

But how on earth was that marriage approved? Let alone them being from two very different parts of the world. However, Jane didn’t want her questions to come off as rude. She’s asked enough questions. One thing was for certain: they were an intriguing pair. Opposites certainly attract. She could tell Charlotte was the wild one, and Arnaud was the relaxed one. Perhaps she and Roman weren’t so different when it came to opposites. Jane had a tendency to be more reserved and withdrawn. It took time for her to get out of her shell. Roman was more straightforward, rougher around the edges. He wasn’t loud, but he wasn’t quiet either. He was just right for her, just opposite enough to make her a better person.

Breakfast was a surprising delight. The conversation was hysterical. Roman and Arnaud, as storytellers, were quite the pair. They were almost like siblings the way they shared mannerisms and inflections at times. Before they knew it, they had been sitting at the table for two hours.

Plans were made. There would be an official welcome dinner with all members of the Duke and Duchess's court. There were plenty of people that Jane hadn’t met yet. After that, Charlotte raved about the Opera with the live orchestra that she wished to invite Jane and Roman to. Jane had never been to a ballet, nor had she seen an orchestra play live before.

Until then, Arnaud took them on an expansive tour of the palace, which took every bit of an hour. She had no idea how or why the home of someone had to be so big. But it’s easy to forget just how many people lived in the palace: servants, soldiers, teachers, cooks, doctors and nurses, animal attendants, gardeners, and more. Not to mention the courtiers and advisors who lived there simply to keep the nobles company. The acreage was just as expansive. There was a vast greenhouse, gardens, orangeries, and horse pastures. Each bedroom was practically a mini museum, with portraits of the long line of royalty that once lived in the palace. Thankfully, there weren’t any in the bedroom they shared.

The rest of the day would be spent at her leisure. Charlotte decided to ride horses with Eloise. Arnaud and Roman went to have a drink on the balcony. They had a lot of catching up to do. She took this opportunity to have tea time, which apparently involved relaxing in a room lined with oil paintings, satin pillows, and floor-to-ceiling windows that swung open like doors. She brought Caden along with her.

“Are you okay?” Jane asked him quietly. The boy had his feet swinging over the side of the couch as he stared up at the mural above him.

“Why wouldn’t I be?” he asked with an inquisitive tone.

“Because I don’t want you to be uncomfortable.”

“I think they’re a bit strange. Not my idea of nobility. But I guess that’s a rather good thing, considering that with a warrant, Europe would be searching for Roman with dogs by now,” Caden scoffed.

“I think they’re rather sweet. Though I can’t imagine how people must talk about them behind their backs. Those poor people,” Jane muttered quietly.

“She probably gets the worst of it. She said that she’s a commoner, right?”

“Yes, which is why I don’t know how it happened. He must have some sort of favor. I don’t imagine an old king being nice enough to grant somebody their true love. It’s always duty and sacrifice with that bunch.”

“Rich people problems. Beats me,” Caden shrugged.

“How quickly you forget that you are, in fact, a rich man now. Though you’ve barely spent any of it quite yet. I’m very proud of you. Don’t let Rory set an example,” Jane sighed. Rory had suddenly decided he needed a new fur coat collection for the winter, which wouldn’t be for months.

“Why thank you Mother,” Caden teased. Jane chuckled. At times, Caden really did act like a teenager, which warmed her heart.

The room fell silent as she thought about their arrival for the trip. She understood Roman wanting to visit an old friend. But this was such a stark difference from what she was used to. With the way he talked about royalty, she never expected him to have any friends that were still affiliated. She felt there was more than one reason as to why they were here. She didn’t sense any malice or ill intent, thankfully, but he was so subliminal about the whole ordeal.

“Has Roman ever talked to you about Paris?”

“Taking you there, yes. Said something about how he had something special planned for you and to be on my best behavior, blah blah blah,” Caden sighed, turning over to face the cushion of the couch. “I’m taking a nap. Those bloody white-wigged bastards woke me up at 5 in the morning to dress me like some stupid baby. I’m tired.”

Jane scoffed and chugged the rest of her tea before retreating to her bedroom for the afternoon. Roman hadn’t come back yet, and she was starting to miss him. She had been informed that he’d gone into town, which surprised her. She would have gone with him had he asked her.

Later that evening, as the sun went down, Jane prepared for dinner with the court. This was an observed dinner with everyone from the Duke and Duchess's court included. Touch-ups were made to Jane’s hair and makeup. She changed into a deep blue dress. The bust, sleeves, and creases of the dress were trimmed with delicate black lace. The skirt was dramatic and wide, with flared sleeves, and the forearm of the dress was flared. She liked that this dress contrasted with the light, airy nature of the first dress. The finishing touch was a black lace choker, a smudge o black on the waterline, and a fake mole on her cheek. Face dots were especially popular here in France, and some women would cover their faces with them. Jane opted for just one. She changed into black heels, and a sheer glitter was added to her hairline. A matte dark red lipstick gave the look the perfect finish. A knock on the door grabbed Jane’s attention. It was Roman, holding a box in his hand. He had changed, and his hair fell down his back in damp waves.

“That will be all for now, ladies. Thank you,” she excused the group. The maids curtsied and left. Roman shut the bedroom door and closed the distance between them, standing behind the chair she sat in. The two of them faced a large mirror that nearly spanned the entire wall. “You are never wearing pirate hand-me-downs again. I forbid it when you look like that.”

A small smirk ghosted across Jane’s mouth before she rolled her eyes and crossed her arms. “Where have you been all day?”

“Oh, have I upset you with my absence?” Roman slyly leaned down and kissed the side of her neck. It took everything in her not to fall into him the way she usually would, to submit to the heat of his touch as she always had.

“I missed you. I had nobody to talk to. Caden went to sleep. It would have been nice to have company. I don’t know my way around here,” she pouted. Roman brushed his lips against her soap-scented skin.

“I went to the city to buy you something special to wear with your dinner dress,” he taunted. Carefully, he twirled the box in his hand and placed it in her lap. He pulled out a smaller second box and placed it on the table.

“You can’t open the little box quite yet. But this one is for tonight,” he explained. Jane hesitantly took the larger box, all blue and wrapped in red ribbon. She pulled off the silk and lifted it open to find a sizable necklace filled with sapphires and diamonds. She gasped at the way it glinted against the fireplace light.

“Roman… this must have cost you a fortune,” her hand flew to her mouth as she lifted it up, feeling the heaviness of it.

“Well, I couldn’t let you make your appearance without something special. These sorts of dinners are all about status, no matter how much they deny it. Having something nice on is a great way to avoid being treated poorly or ignored. It’s also a fantastic icebreaker. I can’t imagine what I’ll do if you are mistreated and I’d rather not find out. This will be a good conversation starter. I think it will match with your light blue dress. You can wear it for your portrait tomorrow.”

It took a moment for Jane to register what he was saying at first. “...My portrait?” she asked.

“Yes, your portrait. Here, let me see how it looks.” Jane reached up to take off her choker. He gently pulled the necklace from her grasp and placed it around her neck. She turned her neck to admire the way it sparkled. Truthfully, Jane wanted to inquire about the portrait, but there was so much going on at once that the thought slipped her mind when the jewelry hit her skin.

Her fingers graced the smooth stone. “It’s beautiful... I love it,” she murmured.

“ You wear it well”, he compliments.

“Will you walk with me to dinner?”.

“It would be my honor.”

They dressed Roman in what was called the habit à la française: his coat, waistcoat, breeches, silk stockings, jabot, cotton shirt, decorative cuffs, and cravat. His coat and breeches were a deep gray color. It complemented her outfit, and that’s when she realized that the people who dressed them corresponded. Beatrice escorted them to the great hall, and the doors opened for them, revealing a full room of people that looked like they wanted to eat her alive.

Roman POV

When you were presented before a court, you were sized up. It was one of the things he hated most about prestigious society. Roman wasn’t here for his health. A future for Jane must be secured, and in order to do that, he would be metaphorically offering the love of his life up to vultures. Except these vultures—more akin to peacocks—were flashy, rich, perfectly powdered, yet rotten on the inside. This would be their reality for the next two and a half hours.

The royal announcer called their names, ringing the dinner bell to hungry hounds as hollow, glistening, depraved eyes landed on the pair of them. Caden had already snuck his way into the room, his youth allowing him to sink into the background in a way they couldn’t. They paid their respects to the Duke and Duchess. Next came their courtiers and other members of rank. Jane’s bow was perfect. Charlotte kissed both sides of her cheek to show favor, something to sway the court. There would be a wait for dinner, and the great hall was full of bigwigs talking about feeble nonsense.

There were whispers, snickers, glares, and stares. Most of them were from the women, which was to be expected. Roman wasn’t particularly fond of the men and their obvious gawking. He and Jane stood near the dual windows overlooking the courtyard. Carts of beverages were rolled around. Roman grabbed a glass of champagne, while Jane chose water. She lifted the glass to her lips, her eyes widening as it fizzed against her palate.

“There’s something wrong with this water,” she warned.

“There’s nothing wrong. It’s supposed to be that way,” he chuckled at her shock as she cautiously took another sip.

“It’s bubbly… why is it bubbly?”

“Vichy water. It’s sparkling mineral water from Vichy, France, from the volcanic region. It has salts and healing properties. Sometimes they use it to treat gout or an upset stomach. Some people just like the taste.” He watched as she took small sips. She shrugged it off, seemingly satisfied with the sensation of the fizzing.

She fidgets, “Should I make conversation?” she asked hesitantly, looking around the room.

“No. Let them come to you.”

“How do you even know it’s me they’re staring at? It could easily be you. Pretty men are a rarity.”

A knowing smile crossed Roman’s face. “I’m not much of a crowd favorite. I wasn’t particularly known for my charming attitude prior to you. You’re shiny and new; I’m old news.”

Before Jane could even protest, a woman walked up. It was Madam Bernard. She was a woman in her late 30s, a member of Charlotte’s court and an official lady-in-waiting. Madam Bernard was a gossip but usually the most curious. She was also bitter that Roman would not bed her in his younger years. He nearly stepped protectively in front of Jane when her ghostly powdered face came into view. He resisted.

“Lady Jane, a pleasure to meet you. I go by Madam Bernard,” she smiled at Jane. Her teeth were always strangely sharp at the corners—an unnerving quality. Jane curtsied briefly.

“I believe we have met, Monsieur,” Bernard turned to Roman, a wicked glint bouncing off her eyes. Roman nodded stoically, not giving her the satisfaction of a true greeting.

“Where on earth did you get a necklace like that?”

“It was a gift,” Jane smiled, her disposition flustered.

Madam Bernard motioned toward Jane’s outfit. “It’s absolutely marvelous. And your dress… blue is your color, my darling.”

“That’s very kind of you to say,” Jane smiled. The room could smell her nerves. But this wasn’t Roman’s time to step in—not yet. Jane was more capable than most. This room, these people, were no different from the English—hungry with an appetite that would never be fulfilled. Jane knew how to navigate it. Two and a half hours. Just two and a half hours, and they’d be alone again. He was capable. She was capable.

So, with reluctance, he allowed their conversation to flow. He watched from afar. Eventually, Madam Bernard carried her off to her den of gossipers, and Jane was off and away. She mingled. She laughed. She twirled around in her dress to choruses of “Ooh la la!” and “Magnifique!”

One glance at Arnaud across the room. He looked miserable—he usually was at these kinds of gatherings. He cast Roman a knowing look as he held up a glass to his friend from afar. Roman did the same. Caden wandered over to him, snacking on a tray of berries now.

To Roman’s surprise, Jane had come out of her shell. She worked half the room. People came up in droves to speak with her. A kiss on the back of her hand had him adjusting his collar to keep himself cool. Jane was receptive, inviting, smiley, polite, careful. There was no doubt about it: Jane was beautiful. No matter how much anyone tried to ignore it, no matter how much she fit outside the lines of the standard for the region, Jane was beauty with a face. Parisians took eye-fulls of beautiful women with no shame. He also understood that there was a novelty to Jane. Nobody in the court looked like her. That was a cause for curiosity. Still, there was a thin line between intriguing, obsession, and possession. Nobility liked to own more than anything. But she knew that. Jane was a smart girl.

The courtiers were strange the way they struck up conversation. Topics were never meaningful. They believed their leaders to be invested more than they really were. Aside from who they served, they thought of themselves as supporting characters. They treated the room as their stage, believing others were paying more attention than they actually were. Maybe they were right, because Roman couldn’t help but notice how peculiar they were. Men would come up to Jane and ask her about the weather or talk about how hot the room was. They would randomly include her in conversations she wasn’t part of. They would say, “There are a lot of people here today,” with not so much as a hello. Jane remained unperturbed —careful, receptive.

Dinner was ready, and droves of chefs and servants flooded the hall to prepare the table. The Duke and Duchess would sit first. As Jane and Roman were seated, he could see the wheels turning in her mind.

“Do not touch your food until the Duke starts eating. Then you may eat. Use your utensils from the outside in. You start with the utensil furthest from the plate. Your fork is down on the table between bites,” he whispered quietly to her. He placed a napkin in her lap and then his. He could see a worried look on Jane’s face.

“If you get lost, just copy me,” he soothed. She gave him a quick nod and turned her attention back to the Duke, who quickly thanked everyone for joining him for the evening.

Dinner went on quietly. Roman shared quick glances with Jane. The man next to her struck up conversations about fashion and his favorite dishes. Jane chose Coq au Vin—or rather, the “red chicken,” which the gentleman found funny. He knew she didn’t speak French, so he ran down a list of French cuisines, sharing his favorites as well. This interaction was the least condescending or infantilizing conversation he’d heard directed at her all evening. It gave Roman room to relax.

After the main course, there would have to be a wait for dessert. Roman planned to excuse himself to the restroom, but a commotion could be heard behind the double doors of the great hall. In walked King Joseph De Pointe. The entire room rose as his presence was announced. He had aged severely since Roman last saw him decades ago. It was as if a ghost had walked into the room. He stood about 5'10", medium-built with a bit of a stomach from old age, and he had a militant walk. As he walked to the center of the room, everyone he passed bowed in his honor. The Duke and Duchess swiftly walked toward him and bowed deeply at his presence. He whispered something to the Duke, and they both looked at Jane. Now Roman knew why he had come so early into the trip; he wasn’t supposed to meet Jane for at least another two weeks.

From the outside looking in, it might not seem that a commoner would mean so much to the King, that he would interrupt dinner to meet her. But he would. The Persians are just that vain, and nobility is even vainer. It matters that Jane is beautiful; it matters that Jane is poised. It matters how they look together. And while a favor is owed, he has the final say. He who is associated with the crown is someone of purpose and beauty. One has to know how to perform.

The old man walked across the large open circle of the connecting dining tables that filled the room and headed straight for Jane. Roman whispered quickly, “Do not look him directly in the eye.”

“Why?!” she whispered.

“It’s an invitation.”

James's eyes widen before she lowers them. The King now stood directly in front of her. Roman bows first, followed by Jane, who says, “Your Majesty.” His eyes scan Jane as she nervously stares past him. The intensity of his gaze prompts Roman to gently wrap his arm around Jane’s waist. The King looks up at Roman as if he has suddenly appeared from thin air.

“Très bien,” he calls to the Duke over his shoulder.

He falters on his feet as little arms wrap around his leg. Startled, he bursts into a hearty chuckle as he picks up Eloise and holds her in his arms. She is happy to see her adoptive grandfather. She has no inkling of the atrocities and chaos he has caused in other countries. She does not understand his alignment with eugenics or the people he has left hungry in the streets of Paris. All she knows is the warmth and adoration of her grandfather, who is not of her blood. In some sick and twisted way, it is a testament to how powerful love can be and proof of how many people are undeserving of it. Maybe karma isn’t real. Maybe one’s own torturer is not holed up in a cognitive doom, regretful, reflective, and repentant. Even the worst of people live their lives and move on. At the very least, their victims should, too. And that’s why he must take the life Jane is owed.

Whispers hum across the court as people notice the interaction between Jane and the King. They wonder about her importance. This is a good thing; it will earn favor—anything to make her interactions within the court easier.

The King stays for dessert, and there’s another 20 to 30 minutes of mingling before people begin to retreat for the night. Proper farewells are given to those who require them. Roman escorts Jane back to their guest suite.He watches as she removes parts of her outfit while storming down the hall, moving quickly as they pass their posted Butler.

“30 minutes please, Joffrey,” says Roman.

“Very well, sir,” the butler responds.

Roman shuts the door, and Jane stands in front of the mirror, angrily taking the pins out of her hair. Her hair falls into long, voluminous curls that cascade onto her shoulders. She reaches for her corset, too proud to ask him for help.

“Let me get that,” Roman insists.

“NO!,” she barks.

Roman retreats from the sting of her tone and tosses his jacket on the floor as he sits on their bed. He runs a hand down his face, knowing he’s in for an earful. “Tell me what I’ve done.”

“What sort of agreement do you have with the Duke that the king of France is having a staring contest with me in front of a hundred fucking people?” she sneers.

Roman sighs.“Jane…relax.”

Her eyes narrow suspiciously. “Are you planning on giving me away? Are you trying to send me off with one of those rich old men?” she presses.

He stands at the accusation.“What!? N-No. I love you. Why would I do that?”

Her breathing is labored. Her eyes shoot around the room as if she’s coming up with a plan. “I won’t be his mistress or anybody’s mistress. I’m not marrying anybody you set me up with. You can act like it’s for the best or you’re doing me some favor by whoring me out but I’ll sooner die! If we’re done, then have the guts to say it, but I’m not staying here if—”

Roman’s eyes nearly buck out of his head as he rushes into her space, holding his hands up in surrender as he tries to reason with her. “Whoa, whoa, whoa!!! Let’s start over,”He can see the beginnings of that familiar panicked and trapped look returning to her—one he hasn’t seen in a long time, and it turns his stomach. He wishes not to return to that dynamic.

“Why would you think that I would ever send you away? You are my heart's keeper, Dove. You know this,” Roman says, pulling her hands into his and pressing the backs of her fists to his mouth. She turns her head away in protest. He gently grabs her chin and holds it between his fingers. Her eyes are glassy with tears as she tries to cover sadness with anger.

“I’m not going anywhere. You aren’t going anywhere. You are mine as long as you allow it. Let me explain it all to you. You’ll let me explain?” He presses his forehead to hers. His tone is quiet, just above a whisper—a trick he learned to ease her anxiousness. If she could barely hear him, then she would have to focus on listening. It could stall her panic and help her calm down. She hesitantly nods but he can feel the panic steaming off of her.

“I came here to secure your future—our future. I wrote to Arnaud weeks ago and asked for his favor in securing an honorific lordship title. Arnaud holds favor with the King. The King has the final say on who gets appointed a title, so he came to see what you looked like and will make his final decision soon. He wants to see how well you handle yourself in high society before he agrees. The only reason he made haste with the request was because I made a sizable donation to his church. This tactic is common in people who want something from him. People looking for political immunity or people who want to sway his opinion,” Roman explains.

Jane’s eyes shift from confusion to sharp understanding. However, she pulls away. “I thought you never wanted this life again. Why are you going back to what caused you so much pain? We have money. We don’t need these people.”

“You’re right; we do have money. However, we have no home. We have no property besides Totoguam which isn’t adequate enough in size if we were to settle roots there. We don’t even have bank accounts or investments. We will always have to hoard our stash; otherwise, we risk being suspected of criminal activity. If I go back to that ship and sail to another pirate-filled port after all this time, they will know. I’ll be a walking target. I am done putting you in harm's way. I want stability for you. If it means that you are safe, it will always outweigh the cost,” he pleads. Jane’s gaze switches back and forth between his eyes. She’s reading him. Confusion is still etched on her face. He may not win her over.

Jane shakes her head in denial. “But you love the sea. Why subject the rest of your life to being around these people you hate? That’s a miserable existence. Shouldn’t your happiness matter too?”

“We would rarely make appearances. It would only be the most necessary parties that we attend, maybe three to four times a year. The countryside is three hours away from here, near the beach. We won’t have to worry about keeping up with the Paris court. We can make our home whatever we want. It can be a sanctuary for all our brothers when they need it. If we want to sail, we sail. If we don’t want to sail, then we don’t. My point is that we will have something to come back to Jane. Out there in the open sea—it’s all temporary. In a split second you could lose it all. This will give us the opportunity to have a real home. A true home, Jane,” he urges. Jane goes quiet, and Roman’s stomach sinks; she is still not sold on the idea.

He sighs a defeated breath as he steps back to give her space. Her body language is open but defensive. He drops her hands gently. “I should have consulted with you first. Maybe I didn’t because I knew you would be hesitant. I didn’t go about this the right way. It was never my intent to scare you. It’s just that ever since we met, I’ve started to really think about the future, Jane. You must understand, before you came into my life, I didn’t bother picturing what life would look like ten years from then. I lived moment to moment. But now that I have you, I must do this right. I must seize this opportunity to give you the life you deserve,” he says. She’s slightly disarmed, and her eyes trail down to his mouth and then back up to his eyes. It was funny that even during a disagreement he could still see the love she had for him. That ultimately, they both wanted to understand each other even when their views were different. He loved her…

“You’ve sprung this on me very suddenly. You’re right; you should have consulted with me. You have made your points and I can see how you would feel the way you do. I need some time to think about this. I can’t make any promises yet,” she crosses her arms hesitantly. She looks down at the carpet. Her lips twitched as if she wanted to say more.

Roman says nothing but continues to study her. She walks back over to the bed, putting her head in her hands. “This is a big step. And while we may be afforded solitude, there is still a duty to be fulfilled. How would we be any better than the people who have hurt us? No matter how low in rank, we would be part of this system.”

He walks to her space, standing in front of her. “We would be part of the French gentry, which are titled non-nobles. I would indeed have a vague association with the King, and that is something I’m willing to sacrifice morally to ensure your future. I’ve pondered this for many nights. If there has to be a bad person in this situation, then allow me to be the monster. I won’t pretend that I’m not selfish when it comes to you. You make me impulsive…you make me uncooperative and irrational at times. Maybe even most of the time. My condolences to whoever gets in the way. But I…I must have you, Jane. You and you only.”

His words burn in his mouth, but from the ensnared gaze she sends his way, she is on fire. She plays with her necklace and hair, biting her lip as she contemplates what he said.

“I’m not giving you an answer right away, no matter how convincing you are. I need time to think,” she mutters and stands. He doesn’t know why she feels the need to put her foot down, but he can at least afford her this. He’s already made the mistake of being sneaky. Now he must pay.

“That’s fine,” he says, stepping closer, and she doesn’t move. Another step, and she doesn’t budge. He goes in for a kiss, and she dodges it at the last minute, turning around so he can undo her corset.

Jane's POV

Jane doesn’t think she’s ever been so conflicted in her life. Deep down, she can’t believe that he would want to leave his pirate years behind. What about Caden? What about Adhar? What about everyone? Everyone had a different idea of what their future would look like. William left to make things right with his wife. Other pirates, like Daniel and Gregory, retired alongside dozens of other mates. Rory wanted to keep sailing, and so did Caden. Roman, being a lord, also meant she would be his wife eventually. Could she do that? Could she do it well? How much of their lives would they give up to conform to this new standard? If she married him, would he change as they fell into domesticity? Would there not be enough excitement to keep him interested? Worst of all, what if she began to feel trapped? If she married him, he would own her. Could she take that chance?

Roman wasn’t there when she woke up. The servants informed her that he had picked out what he wanted her to wear for the portrait: a light blue dress and no makeup. As she sat to get her hair done, she noticed that Mary hadn’t brought any heating tools. “No sheep’s head style today?”

Mary shook her head. “Monsieur Roman requested that you wear it down for your picture. But don’t worry; I will give you a more elaborate style before the show,” she promised.

“So be it,” Jane rolled her eyes at the mention of him. As annoyed as she was with him, the requests warmed her heart. She remembered those quiet nights on the boat when it felt like they were the only two people in the world. Perhaps she was scared of change.

Mary wet her hair and wrapped her coils around her fingers, section by section. Each strand was left shiny and wet, waiting to air dry. She took breakfast in the courtyard to speed up the process. Caden spent most of his days in the library, and he showed it to her. There were so many books and documents to choose from. She spent lunch there before she was sent off for her portrait. She didn’t even understand why she agreed to this, but it was something to do.

She was escorted down a winding staircase that led to a marble hall. All of the rooms on this floor were open. At the end of the hall, she could see the Duke sitting next to someone. Arnaud was in front of a canvas.

“Your Grace?” Jane called from the doorway.

“Ah, Jane. Come inside. Make yourself comfortable,” he said.

Jane walked into a room full of paint and plants. Every piece of furniture was covered in sheets. The windows were open, letting in a lukewarm breeze. Jane gasped as she saw portraits of people, animals, fruits, houses, and a baby who looked a lot like Eloise.

“You did these?!”

“Of course. Who else?” Arnaud smiled. The man next to him started to mix paints, solvents, and thinners. The smell was strong, which was why the windows were open. She didn’t mind it.

“Can I sit here?” Jane motioned for a seat by the window. Arnaud studied the lighting and shadows of the room and agreed. A servant offered her tea, and she accepted: two sugars and a splash of cream.

“I had no idea you were such a talented artist. Is that little Eloise as a baby?” Jane smiled, motioning to the canvases on the wall.

“Oh yes. She was about eight months old there,” Arnaud said fondly.

“What about these other people?”

“Some of them are from my court—people I’ve met over the years. Some of them are from dreams.”

“I’m jealous. It must be a hard skill.”

“It’s a lot easier than you might think. Most of it is just shading and blocking. It’s about looking at the overall picture before focusing on the details. You can mold a shadow into the silhouette of a woman with practice. A trick I always use is squinting my eyes as I paint the foundation before I focus on the finer details. I’ve gotten better with practice.”

“I’ve never thought about it that way.”

His assistant continued to add more colors to his palette before he bowed and left. “So how have you been enjoying your stay?” Arnaud asked.

Jane went to speak but hesitated. Has she been having fun? There had been enjoyable moments, but the conversation with Roman had been sobering. The interaction with the King was strange. “It has been… interesting.”

Arnaud stopped his blocking and paused to look at her for a moment. Jane nodded cautiously. “Roman and I had a discussion last night. He finally came clean about why we’re here.”

Realization spread across Arnaud’s face. He looked slightly guilty. “You’re not the one who’s in trouble,” Jane chuckled.

Arnaud threw her half a smile and began painting again, building the structure of the picture. “And how do you feel about the idea?”

“I’ve never been more confused about anything in my entire life.”

“Ms. Ramlal, speak freely if you must.”

Jane raised a brow at him. Did he really want to know? Or maybe Roman was friends with him because of their shared ideas? Arnaud had been nothing less than graceful since she met him. She didn’t want to offend him. His regality could be a bit intimidating despite his kindness.

“I’m not sure it would be wise.”

“Do you honestly suspect my utter allegiance to a place that held me hostage? At the very least, I afford myself criticism. Others are allowed the same,” Arnaud sighed tiredly.

Jane paused. Well, he had a point. “Roman had a very difficult time in his early years. Europe has caused him much pain. It’s caused me much pain. I wonder if us being a titled family would make us guilty for the suffering of others. He says that if it does, he’s okay with it. Roman has a habit of becoming tunnel-visioned when it comes to me. He is willing.”

“Roman has a head made of stone when he sets his mind on something,” Arnaud said. Jane chuckled.

“We won’t be nobles, just low-titled. He makes that distinction as if it makes things better. Perhaps it does. But we answer to the crown at some point. Even being here—buying these expensive luxury goods. In some way we are contributing to someone’s suffering. I have a hard time getting over it. Being on the other side of it can feel very strange.”

“In some ways, you do,” Arnaud agreed.

“I feel that if I accept this position, then I am betraying the woman I used to be. Betraying the women who I lived with and grew to know. Betraying people like me,” Jane sighed.

“Now I must speak freely,” said Arnaud. His tone loosened, falling out of that distant, respectable voice.

“Please,” Jane urged.

“The grim reality, Ms. Ramlal, is that you do not get paid for suffering.”

Jane froze at those words. They rolled off his tongue easily. They were slightly sharp when they hit her, but the kindness in Arnaud’s eyes reassured her.

“Women like you, people like you—there is no reward for the pain. You get this life, and then you pass on. They dangle the idea of upward mobility above your head to keep you running. The minute you return to the earth, someone fills in your spot. It’s how the system sustains itself. It sustains itself on the guarantee that you will struggle and never see that reward. Not just you, but millions—of people just like you. You are born in one specific position and that is your assigned role. Your duty it to stay at the post you were given at birth. Miraculously, impossibly, you have snuck past your assigned post and now you are here. You are not here as a servant, or a slave, or for entertainment. You are here by sheer luck. You have been given resources that were never intended for you. You have been given security that is supposed to be systematically withheld from you. You may very well be one of the only women with your background, your skin, your life to ever have some semblance of security. You weren’t stolen, you weren’t bought. You are here out of free will. I imagine that could be quite frightening in some aspects ?” Arnaud glanced at her while mixing two colors to get a light blue shade.

“It is,” Jane said, her tone quiet and inward now.

“ You are guilty of no crime. You are not a bad person for ending up here. I don’t want to push you into this. Please believe me when I say that… I speak only from the purest intent when I say this. I believe that the people who came before you—all the people who have struggled in your bloodline—all the people who loved you, none of them want you to suffer. None of them want your life to be any harder than it used to be. They never get to see the seeds they planted sprout and turn into trees.”

Jane was unmoving as she stared back at him. She never would have guessed that he would say such a thing, to be so introspective from his pedestal.

“Instead, you have a choice. A choice is a beautiful thing to have, trust me, Jane. And within that choice, you make it alongside a man who is irrevocably, unabashedly in love with you—a rarity, even among the most noble of them all. There is no force, no violence. Only a blank canvas waiting to be filled,” he said.

The room went silent now. Arnaud’s eyes shifted from her face to the canvas. He was likely blocking in her face and hair now. She took a few sips from her tea, yet another small discovery since being here. She had never had it before. It was spicy and warm on her tongue—cinnamon, orange, vanilla, and other flavors she couldn’t describe. Would every day be like this? A realization of just how small her world used to be?

For a moment, she nearly lost it. There was a knot forming in her throat, her palms becoming wet. Her composure was so close to snapping that it caused her to shift in her seat. This stranger gave her the permission she couldn’t even give to herself. She hated the way her voice wobbled. She hates the vulnerability of it all. But his presence is quiet and knowing. If she closed her eyes, she could believe he was a vessel from the other side in that moment—or maybe just a manifestation of his natural wisdom. “At times, I worry that I’ve made my pain my identity,” she says.

The look he gives her nearly blows her away. It’s a slip of his mask, too—an acknowledgment, a subtle nod to the idea, a quiet “me too.”

She finishes her tea, and now Arnaud is really working the canvas. A few minutes of silence pass before she gets the courage to ask about him—really ask about him. She sits up straighter and clears her throat. “ Since we’re speaking freely. How exactly did you end up in Paris?”

Arnaud inhales quietly as if he almost prepares himself to say the words. “If you’ve heard Roman’s story, then you’ve heard mine. Except I was actually royalty in my homeland. I was stolen—plain and simple. I was about seven years old. I was a gift to the ‘Angel of Versailles.’ That’s what they call Queen Angelique De Pointe here. The King and Queen already had seven children at that point. Angelique’s last child—a child about 7 years old, passed away. It was becoming popular in Europe to have one of our kind as companions. Angelique wanted one, and Joseph would stop at nothing to make her happy. That’s where I came into the picture.”

“Very similar stories. I’m glad you two at least had a friend in each other.”

Arnaud nods. “One of the better things to come out of it.”

“Your daughter seems to adore him,” Jane suggests.

“He formed a soft spot for her in particular. All of his grandchildren are boys. He even has tea parties with her at the palace. Remarkable, isn’t it? That someone like him could hold adoration in his heart for a small child that has no relation to him in any way. I certainly wasn’t afforded any of his affections as a child. Then again, why would I want it? I would hate to love my kidnapper. It would make it all the more complicated to identify what is love and what is not,” Arnaud shrugs.

“... Do you want her to have a relationship with him?”

“Yes. She’s far too young to understand. She will know one day. For now, he’s just her grandfather.”

“He must hold some affection for you, though. I mean, you are a Duke. You have a royal title. You have some pull in the monarchy. That’s unheard of. I thought most adoptees just faded away.”

“I’ve often wondered why he would go out of his way to title me as well. The only thing that could explain it…is that he is old. He has but so many years left. The closest atonement he has for his sins is to give people what they want. He knows the destruction he’s left in his path. You see, it’s the ego—the cognitive dissonance of all of it. There is a belief that if you are a winner, if you are a conqueror, if you are stronger, you are favored by God. You MUST be a good person because of the power you hold. I'm sure that men like him believe this to be true. I’m sure that’s how he reasons with the violence. At least that’s my theory.”

“He had trouble swallowing his food, I noticed. Maybe you’re right. Maybe it’s old age… and guilt,” Jane says. Arnaud nods in agreement.

“Time has passed, and he has grown more tolerable. I'm no fool; I recognize that his growing friendliness toward me is less equal to that of a son and closer to how a man adores his dog. His children have married off and started their own families. For a while, I was the only one of his kids living at the palace. I regrettably and embarrassingly only started to live my life in my thirties. I was always there—reliable, constant. Thankfully, things started to look up when I met Charlotte. I wanted to give her a better life, so I started asking for more. He granted my wishes. I suppose that somewhere deep in his heart, buried in the most human parts of himself, he feels he owes me for all I’ve endured at his hands. Though the idea will never cross his mind in his wake.”

“I’m sorry…” Jane sighed sadly.

“It’s alright. It’s just the way life plays out sometimes. I have found parts of this world that belong to me alone, like my love for Charlotte, my beautiful daughter, my art, the home I’ve made of Palais Royal. This is the post I have made for myself. I will not abandon it.”

Jane smiles at the way his eyes light up as he talks about his family. His love for Charlotte is genuine, and Eloise is adored by everyone. “I’m happy you’ve found your family.”

“And so have you. Which is why I think you will be just fine if Roman becomes seigneur.”

“What exactly is a seigneur?”

“A seigneur, or lordship, is a feudal title appointed by His Majesty the King. He is granted a large piece of land to rule over. This land is governed by the seigneur, who lives on the land and builds a community. He establishes farms, crops, wheat mills, churches, manages taxes and tenants, and grants licenses. He organizes a town, and the people in it answer to him. Don’t worry about the land belonging to anyone else. The countryside of France is rural with not many inhabitants. Roman would most likely govern there.”

“I see. So essentially, Roman would have the power to create the community he wants?”

“Correct. Now, of course, there will be certain guidelines, but I’m sure he’ll find a way around them like he usually does. It would be whatever you two make it.”

“You very well may be saving him from sleeping in another room tonight,” Jane quipped.

A throat clears and it startles her. “Very bold of you to say, especially knowing you’d get the most horrible sleep of your life,” Roman scoffed.

Jane rolled her eyes at the smirk on his face. He strolls into the room and sat next to her on the couch.

“Don’t get ahead of yourself. I didn’t invite you to sit over here,” Jane sighed.

“Oh, don’t be like that. I just wanted to see how you were doing and ask if you’ll allow me in the room if I agree to sleep on the floor,” he smirks.

Jane shook her head, feeling a smile creep onto her lips. Roman leaned back into the couch, his long, muscular leg crossing over his knee. One of his arms sling over the seat as he stared back at her. He clearly felt no shame at her utter annoyance. There was nothing in his eyes but pure adoration, and his smile showed that he could feel hers, too.

“You know what? I think this picture would be much better with both of you in it,” Arnaud quips.

“Fine. How should I pose? Do we need to start all over again?” Jane asked.

“No. I’ve got your clothing down. I’ll just restart from the neck up. Just keep looking at him.”

And that’s how Jane found herself stuck staring at him for the next four hours. By the end, he had her laughing. He always did. He would say something, and she could feel the heat in the room rush to her skin. With nowhere to hide from the heat of his gaze, she was stuck. She should have known it was a ploy to get on her good side—and it worked. When Armaund left the room she pulled him down for a kiss.

After a quick dinner, the time for the Ballet was approaching. A deep red dress with black trimmings would match the theater curtains, or at least that’s what her stylist said. Jane had never been to a theater, and she was intrigued about how it would feel to finally sit inside one. Mary kept Jane’s natural curls but pinned them up in a pouf style, arranging her hair into a hive shape. A few face-framing curls pulled the look together. A ruby choker matched the color of her dress, but she kept her lips soft and bare; otherwise, it would be “too on the nose,” according to Gaston.

Gaston was a male makeup artist who wore gold on his eyes and rings on every finger. His accent was heavily Mediterranean, and he always wore a tightly curled white wig as a status symbol. Not only was his style eccentric, but so was he. He was rumored to be one of the best in Paris, so Jane trusted his judgment. The two agreed to repeat the same eye makeup on her as the night before. He would place a black kohl-like substance on her waterline. When she asked what it was called, Gaston recalled Arnaud’s friend's wife from North Africa. Apparently, she would smear a black color into her eyes to accentuate them.

“She used something called kajal! I made my own products to mimic it. It made her look so sultry. Like a cat! I absolutely loved it! But you know the French women here all want to look like children—so obsessed with wide eyes and pinched cheeks. Stupide et ennuyeux! I never get to experiment. This is why you are sent from heaven. You have yet to say no to me. Finally, somebody who lets me work!” Gaston gushed.

Jane laughed at the way he dramatically threw the back of his hand over his forehead. So far, there hadn’t been any misses with her assigned team of stylists. They always made her feel beautiful, and they were easy to talk to. Jane twirled in the mirror, admiring the final outcome of her look. “You are ready to own the night, Mon Cher. This will certainly get back to Versailles!” Gaston placed a jacket onto Jane’s shoulders.

“I take it you're in on the operation to get Roman and me titled as well? I’ve been walking amongst traitors.”

“You’re just now catching on? You’re a little late to the party, darling. Your beauty makes up for it. Now prepare to be copied. By the time they catch on, you’ll already be onto the next thing,” said Gaston.

Roman was quite pleased with the look. He stole many kisses in the carriage. Charlotte and Arnaud rode ahead of them and Jane couldn’t be more grateful for it. His beard burns across her décolletage as her fingers somehow loop themselves into his hair. What was once a ponytail was a tousled swell of silky black strands. Every time her hands would tug on his hair he would press into the side of her body harder—a welcomed punishment. She enjoyed the suffocation, the mugginess, the tight quarters. His teeth found her skin, gentle but alluring all the same. His mouth sucked the skin of her breasts leaving darkened flushed hues of pigment for anyone to see. Thank goodness for the low light of the theater. With many more appeasing yet reciprocal kisses, she convinced him that it was in fact important that they not skip the opera. After all, this was Jane’s first time.

“If you mess up my hair, we’re going to have a problem. Mary spent an hour on it,” Jane gently pressed her hand against her updo. It was still intact.

“What about me? My hair was pulled back before we got into this carriage, need I remind you? That’s not very fair,” he scoffed.

“It’s better down anyway,” Jane smirked.

Roman opened the carriage door and helped her down the steps. Arnaud and Charlotte stood near the entrance waiting for the pair. The sounds of horses stomping and neighing filled the stone-paved streets as carriages pulled up to attend.

“Watch your step; there’s horse shit everywhere,” Roman grumbled as he pulled her closer.

The tall, ornate doors, framed by intricate carvings of floral motifs and cherubic figures, loomed among the other buildings on the street. A marbled staircase, its steps worn smooth by the passage of countless patrons, ascended beneath a lavish canopy of crimson and gold fabric, fluttering softly in the evening breeze. Guests, adorned in their finest silks and lace, chatted animatedly, their laughter mingling with the strains of a distant orchestra. There were stares and whispers directed toward Roman and her; she had gotten used to it by now. The faint scent of perfume and the earthy notes of fresh-cut flowers from nearby arrangements wafted through the air, fighting against the smell of the horses. It dissipated the closer they got to the doors.

The towering columns seemed to reach the clouds, crowned by a grand pediment where allegorical figures danced in sculpted relief. The soft glow from within the theater spilled onto the steps. The foyer was noisy with the clicking of heels and the chatter of wealthy men and women. As they crossed the threshold into the auditorium, the stage revealed itself in all its splendor. Draped in deep crimson velvet, the proscenium arch was embellished with intricate golden filigree, framing a scene that was both inviting and magical. The stage itself, expansive and meticulously crafted, was decorated with lavish painted backdrops depicting ethereal landscapes, castles, and mythical realms.

The seating was arranged in a horseshoe formation, with plush, upholstered chairs in rich fabrics of burgundy and gold. Each seat was carefully positioned to afford an unobstructed view of the stage. Box seats lined the walls, each featuring velvet curtains that could be drawn to reveal or conceal the spectators within. These private enclaves, often reserved for the nobility, boasted intricate woodwork, showcasing the status of their occupants. The four of them would have the highest seats with a private catered booth.

Above, the ceiling soared—a magnificent expanse painted in soft pastels, depicting celestial scenes filled with cherubs and swirling clouds, as if the heavens themselves opened up to watch the stage. Ornate plasterwork framed the scenes, and the edges were lined with delicate gold leaf.

The theater buzzed with whispered conversations and laughter, the anticipation palpable as the lights dimmed, casting a soft glow over the audience. The smell of smoke was strong in the air. A waiter came with trays of tobacco, pipes, alcohol, and a small box placed discreetly in the back of the tray. He filled Charlotte and Arnaud's orders before turning to Roman.

“Brandy and a pipe. What about you?” Roman turned to her.

“The vermouth, please,” said Jane.

The waiter poured their drinks into sparkling, pristine crystal glasses. Her vermouth had oranges and limes in it.

“Oh, what is that?” Jane pointed to the carved black box on the serving platter.

“Snuff, madam. Would you like some?” the waiter asked.

“Does it go in the drink?” Jane asked curiously. Roman chuckled with Arnaud.

“You snort it, silly! It goes in the nose and makes you all fuzzy and happy. It’s like you drank ten cups of coffee. I’ll have some, sir,” Charlotte put out her hand and turned it over with her palm facing the ground. The server placed the powder on the back of her hand with a small scooper, and Charlotte sniffed it up.

“You don’t have to try it if you don’t want to,” Roman murmured quietly to her.

“Sensitive nose,” Jane excused. Charlotte looked a little disappointed but nodded.

“Don’t feel bad for Charlotte. She will find any excuse to party. You’ll see at the ball,” Arnaud chuckled.

“Not true,” Charlotte playfully rolled her eyes and scooted into Arnaud's lap. He patted the side of her thigh as he exhaled a puff of smoke.

“A ‘no’ is good for her every once in a while,” Arnaud joked. Charlotte flicked him on the forehead.

Roman took a small sip of his brandy and then a puff of his pipe. She drank a little from his cup. It wasn’t her favorite, but she deliberately placed her mouth on the part of the cup his lips touched. He caught her and his eyes darkened as he shook his head at her. She giggled mischievously when their eyes met.

Jane could see the wandering eyes of the other guests. Many people stole quick glances at the group. She wondered if they were glances of offense; it was often hard to tell with the Parisians. Either way, they had no authority to reprimand or kick them out. For once in her life, Jane felt untouchable—comfortable in a place that did not prioritize her comfort. Maybe it was their incredible hosts or just being alongside the man she loved. Jane sipped her own drink as she opened the brochure for the show while the curtains opened. The show began, and the room darkened. A single light appeared on the stage.

Iphigénie en Tauride is a tragic opera based on the myth of Iphigenia, daughter of Agamemnon. The story unfolds as Iphigenia, saved from sacrifice by the goddess Artemis, finds herself in Tauris, where she serves as a priestess. Her brother Orestes arrives, pursued by the Furies for avenging their father’s murder. The siblings, unaware of each other’s identities, are caught in a web of fate, sacrifice, and familial duty, ultimately leading to a reunion and a quest for redemption.

The experience of watching Iphigénie en Tauride was enthralling and emotional for Jane. The stage props depicted the rugged landscape of Tauris, enhanced by dramatic backdrops and oversized body parts like hands and heads. The costumes of the actors were rich and ornate, with performers clad in flowing robes that reflected their noble heritage and emotional trials.

As the music swelled, she was captivated by the powerful arias and choruses, her emotions stirred by the blend of tragedy and beauty. The orchestra was so loud that the vibrations of the music rumbled in her chest. The gas lamps flickered above, casting a warm glow that highlighted the faces of rapt spectators as they reacted to the unfolding drama. Gasps, tears, and applause rippled through the crowd, creating a shared experience of profound themes of love, sacrifice, and fate that resonated with everyone in some way.

Jane was moved to tears. It was embarrassing at first, but then she realized just how many others were affected. Plenty of men cried alongside the women. Roman pulled a handkerchief from his pocket and handed it to Jane, and she blotted her face with it.

“I would pay good money to see this for the first time again. I was like you,” Charlotte sighed as she fanned herself.

“How many times have you been?” Jane asked.

“This is my second year seeing it and my tenth time. It’s my favorite,” Charlotte swooned.

“The things we do for love. Grab your coat. ” Arnaud said, taking a final hit from his pipe and pulling Charlotte up from her seat. He placed her coat on her shoulders as she finished her glass of wine.

“I suppose those were tears of enjoyment?” Roman asked as he helped her into her coat.

“Enjoyment. Sadness. Relief. I’ve never seen anything like it. I wish we didn’t have to go,” Jane pouted.

“I’ll bring you back for another show,” Roman chuckled as they walked down the stairs to the foyer.

“Opera isn’t your forte, is it?” Jane suggested.

“I’m familiar with the arts. I’ve indulged in them to the point of apathy. But seeing you experience it was the best part of the night,” Roman replied.

The four of them were swallowed up in the crowd heading for the doors. When the night air hit them, Jane felt energized after such an intense show. She wasn’t ready to end the night.

“You two fancy a nightcap back at home?” Arnaud asked.

“Actually, I think we’re going to take the long way home. Don’t wait up for us,” Roman said.

Charlotte and Arnaud wished the two of them goodnight. Jane was happy to be out with just Roman. He tipped the valet and led Jane down the paved streets.

She was thankful she had taken a coat. She looped her arm around Roman’s as he led the way; he had a far better idea of where they were than she did. As the moon cast a silver glow over the cobblestone streets of Paris, she couldn’t help but notice the liveliness. Even though it was late, many people were still out and about.

Jane’s dark dress whispered against her ankles as she glanced up at the ornate facades of the buildings, their windows darkened, some lit by a single candle. Roman, tall and composed, occasionally pointed out the elegant details of the architecture, his voice low and warm against the backdrop of the night. The air was cool, filled with the faint scent of baking bread.

They passed the Seine, where the water glimmered like scattered diamonds, and the distant sound of laughter from a tavern mingled with the soft rustle of leaves. Groups of couples rode past them on bicycles.

A flickering lantern illuminated their path, and they paused for a moment, taking in the beauty around them. Jane marveled at how the night transformed Paris into a romantic tableau. As they continued their walk, the distant tolling of church bells marked the hour, a gentle reminder of time slipping away. Jane leaned closer to Roman, comforted by his presence. She had never been so enthralled and present in her environment. Jane had never people-watched or taken time to notice the beauty of London. Where was the time? Was there any beauty? Maybe if she had been happier back then, she could have found it. Roman squeezed her hand gently, grounding her in the present—a habit he had formed when he noticed her mind racing. It still perplexed her how he could tell when her thoughts were elsewhere. Jane perked up and looked at him.

“Don’t I owe you an ice cream?” he asked quietly. It took a moment for it to register before a knowing grin spread across her face.

“Yes, you do. You promised,” she chuckled.

“Well, I don’t break my promises. Let’s hunt you down some ice cream,” he said, pulling her forward as his pace switched to a determined one.

It didn’t take them long to find an ice cream stand. Roman ordered only one and handed it to her in a tiny goblet-like cup. They walked to a bridge overlooking the water. She dug into the treat and spooned it onto her tongue. Her eyes lit up. “Wow! That actually might be the best thing I’ve ever tasted.”

“I tried to tell you,” Roman laughed.

“Here,” Jane scooped more onto the spoon and fed him some. He insisted that it was hers only. She didn’t put up a fight.

Roman took her to Sainte-Chapelle, a stunning Gothic chapel with stained glass windows. Even so late at night, it was open to bystanders. Sainte-Chapelle has a striking Gothic presence characterized by its tall, pointed arches, intricate stone carvings, and vibrant blue and gold tiles. The exterior was littered with delicate sculptures and gargoyles. It was an incredibly old building, featuring two distinct levels—an upper chapel and a lower chapel. They walked inside to sit. Nobody was there, which made it deafeningly quiet.

The interior was breathtaking, dominated by stunning stained glass windows that rose to impressive heights. These windows, filled with vivid colors and intricate biblical scenes, created a luminous effect as light filtered through them, even during the night. The ribbed vaults of the ceiling soared above, enhancing the sense of grandeur. The atmosphere was serene and reverent. They slid into the seats.

“Surprised you wanted to come here. I thought you didn’t subscribe to religion ?,” Jane quipped.

“ You are my religion darling”, he quips. Her heart flutters but she hides it when she turns away to look at the large statues in the front of the room.

“I may not always agree with the talking points, but it’s beautiful, is it not?”

Jane nodded. “It is. It never ceases to amaze me how people come together to create these kinds of giants. It must take such a long time. It’s almost hard to believe they made it.”

“Not much can stop a determined man’s hands. Not even heights, apparently,” he retorted.

“Is that what you are? Determined?” Jane jokes.

“I am most urgent,” he hummed. Jane chuckled at that, but not a hint of humor gleamed in his eyes. His dark, toned eyes glossed over her face as he leaned further into the wooden pews of the church.

“What is making your haste?” Jane playfully turned her head back to him.

“You…” he said quietly. His eyes drifted to the muraled ceiling. Jane followed, throwing her head back onto his shoulder to enjoy the view.

“Me?” she echoed. A silent pause surrounded them.

“I had a vision when I went under,” he said. For a moment, his voice wavered. It stunned her. A man who was always so sure of himself and the conviction of his words had lost that command. Jane listened carefully, careful not to throw him off his train of thought.

“When it was black…I was not dead to the world. It was colorful. I saw many things. Revisited many instances. But what stunned me the most was that I saw memories I never had. Memories I was supposed to make…with you,” he whispered. A fragility in his voice wounded her. His words made it evident that this thought had been weighing on him.

“What did you see?” she asked quietly.

“My whole life with you. Me, old and withered. You, with white hair. You as my wife…” he said. Jane stilled, slowly lifting her head from his shoulder to sit up and look at him. His eyes found hers, mirroring her own—stunned and surprised.

“Look…I’m okay if you decline the lordship. But that vision, or dream—whatever you want to call it—instilled a fear in me that I have never known. And that fear is that somehow I’m making a mistake by not giving you a life of dignity. I’m making a mistake by not sharing your last name. I’m making a mistake by not being able to introduce you as my wife. And I can wait no longer. I can’t Jane”, he admits.

Her lip trembled as tears flooded her eyes. It nearly frightened her the way this feeling washed over her. Was it relief? Was it anxiousness? It was both. She hadn’t known how badly she wanted him to ask.

Roman slowly rose from his seat onto one knee. His stature was as tall as hers, even while she sat higher. He reached into his coat and pulled out the bright blue box she had seen days ago. He gently opened it to reveal a silver ring with blue sapphires circling around it. Jane shook as she looked down at it. With a hand over her mouth, she tried to hold back the sob that threatened to escape, but it was useless.

She could see tears glistening in the corners of his eyes. His voice cracked with the fear that she would say no—a fear he likely had already accepted as a possibility before he asked. “Jane Ramalal. Will you be my wife? Will you allow me the honor of carrying your last name?”

“Yes. Yes, I will,” she cried. Roman dove for her mouth like it was the only source of air between them. Her hands clawed at his hair, holding him against her. He pulls away to gently hold her hand. As he slid the ring onto her finger, she hurriedly wiped away her tears.

“It’s heavy,” she giggled, her laugh wet with tears. It was surreal. He wanted her last name of all things. And since he had dropped his own as a form of freedom, she had one to spare. So unorthodox and likely to ruffle many feathers. But wasn’t that their love at its core? Anything but ordinary. She was okay with that. She pulled him in for another hug, seeking the grounding feeling of his chest, scared that the high of this moment would make her float into the ceiling murals.

“I love you,” he whispered into her hair.

“I love you more. And you’re going to be a great Lord. You’re going to help a lot of people, Roman. I just know it. You’ll do great”, she sniffled.

“We are,” he murmured.

She can’t quite remember the walk back to the carriage. The ride back to the Palais was a blur. All she could think about was how grateful she was for another chance at life. She watched the trees pass by from the carriage window. The ride was quiet with the occasional “I love you”. And what more was there to really say?

Roman POV

“Are you going to sleep the day away?” Roman brushed the side of her cheek. They had gotten back very late last night, but now it was well after lunch. Jane rubbed her eyes as he opened the curtains. Streaks of black ran down her face from all the crying she did last night. Her hair was all over her head and smooshed in on one side. “You want help?” Roman asked.

Jane nodded quietly and sat with her back turned in the bed. He slid the pins out of her hair, and she sank her hands into the roots to shake it all loose. He brought her a wet cloth to wipe her face.

She made quick work of a bath, and he sat patiently for her at the foot of the bed, reading a book he had found in the room. She emerged naked and dry, slipped on a chemise, and called for assistance with a corset she had put on over it. She kept her hair down as she cleaned her mouth. It was a slow day at court. Many women hid in their rooms with beauty treatments that would paralyze them until late dinner. Men slept off absinthe-filled nights. There was no rush today.

Charlotte was having tea in the orangery. As soon as Roman walked in, Eloise swarmed him. “Is it true that you are getting married to Lady Jane?!!!”, she yelled.

Her mother groaned. “Too loud, mon petit,” Charlotte rubbed the back of her head. She was obviously hurting from the drinking last night.

“Oui,” Jane bent down to Eloise to show her the ring. Eloise squealed in that pitch only a little girl could manage—shrilly and glass-breaking. Charlotte gasped and rushed over to see as well.

“Congratulations! I told you she would say yes,” Arnaud clapped his hand down onto Roman’s shoulder proudly.

“About bloody time,” Caden called out from behind an orange bush, where he was filling his pockets with oranges.

“Oh, it’s huge! Good job, Roman!” Charlotte gushed as she held Jane’s hand up. They went to sit, and Eloise climbed onto Jane’s lap. Roman could see the humor on her face, considering that the two had had very brief introductions.

“Ummm—can I be your flower girl?”, she begged.

“Well, if it’s alright with your parents,” Jane looked up at Arnaud and Charlotte.

“You have no idea what you’ve just done,” Arnaud joked.

“Eloise loves weddings. She’s been a flower girl many times, and she will not take no for an answer. But if it’s alright with you and Roman,” Charlotte laughed.

“YAY!” Eloise squealed.

“And you’ll be the ring bearer, Caden,” Jane teased.

“No way. That’s for little kids,” Caden scoffed.

“It will probably be something small anyway,” said Jane.

“Well, what certainly won’t be small is the yew ball. Your invitations came today,” Charlotte quipped. Arnaud handed them the folded cards. “Whatever you’ve done has worked. You’re very close to becoming lordship now. The ball will really be the time to impress. My dressmakers are coming over today to fit pieces on you and Eloise. Expect to go all out. People wait all year for this ball.”

“I don’t understand why I would matter so much to someone as powerful as the King. Why all this performance? Why not just give Roman the title?”

“Nobility, in its very nature, is about performance above all else. Even with you two being non-nobles, it must be evident that the two of you are special enough to be bestowed a title. Your looks can get you far here in Paris. There have been enough whispers about you to make him send the invitation directly, despite it being open to the public.”

Jane agreed that she was ready and willing to do what needed to be done in order to get Roman titled. Roman was ready to start their lives outside of Paris. He was ready for a house to call their own and quiet nights with just the two of them. A town to do with as they pleased. A real community. But there was one last show. The Ball.

In unorthodox fashion, Roman stayed for the fittings—test runs for her makeup, test runs for the hair. He stayed for the dancing lessons with Beatrice, the older woman being very thorough and rigid about what was acceptable and what wasn’t. They went over dining etiquette and greetings. The whole thing felt like preparing for war, and by the end of the day, Jane was clearly tired.

Jane came to bed late from how much time she spent preparing. Roman welcomed her with open arms. She climbed onto his chest, allowing him to rest his head on her own.

“Roman,” her sweet voice called out into the dark.

“Mm?”

“You’ll tell me if you get bored, right? Tell me you want to go back to the sea if our new life doesn’t fulfill you. You won’t keep it from me?,” said Jane, her voice fragile and worried.

“Why on earth would I ever get bored so long as the woman of my dreams is by my side? I don’t think I even possess that level of selfishness,” Roman hummed. She could feel the shift of her head indicating that she was looking right at him.

“Our new life won’t have the twists and turns of the sea. There won’t be as much spontaneity.”

“Says who? I can think of several different things we can do to keep the spark.”

“Like what?”

“Jane can’t wear clothes in the house on Fridays,” Roman scoffed. He could nearly hear her eyes roll.

“You would love that, wouldn’t you?”

“I don’t need some grand adventure in the background to love as much as I did the day before. Don’t you and I, of all people, deserve some domesticity? Some normalcy? And what’s more spontaneous than creating the community you and I longed for when we were younger? Making that happen for somebody else who really needs it?”

Jane silently agreed. Roman knew that there wasn’t much he could say to calm her fears about marriage. Truthfully, that’s what this was all about. She feared that their marriage would become mundane and that he would grow bored of it. But Roman wasn’t the type of man to do that, and the only way he could prove it was by never turning into the man she feared. Easy enough.

Jane Pov

In true fashion for the night of the Yew Ball, everyone was running around in a frenzy. Gaston was sweating bullets. Mary wore a look of concentration she’d never seen before. It had taken hours for her to get ready, to the point that Roman and Arnaud had left. The girls would meet them there.

As Jane stood in front of the mirror, she marveled at the way the light danced off the rich fabric of her gown, illuminating the intricate details. The gown, a breathtaking creation in a solid gold color, shimmered like molten sunlight, each layer a testament to the artistry of Parisian couture.

The bodice was cut daringly low, exposing an enticing décolletage, which was a risky choice. The corseted waist was cinched tightly, making the bottom of the dress truly pop. The midsection of the dress was elegant, embroidered with patterns of swirling vines and blossoms in darker gold thread adorning the bodice. The sleeves were extravagant, flaring largely at the forearm, fashioned from sheer silk that flared out at the shoulders before gathering at her wrists, allowing for a playful glimpse of her skin beneath.

Beneath the opulent exterior, the dress cascaded into a voluminous skirt, lined with layers of rich satin that rustled softly with each movement. The hem was embellished with delicate lace. The fabric itself was a masterpiece, woven with threads of gold that caught the light at every angle, creating a mesmerizing effect that was nothing short of breathtaking.

To complete the ensemble, Jane paired the dress with a stunning diamond and gold choker that sparkled like stars against her skin, while a matching necklace draped elegantly over her collarbone. Her ears sparkled with dangling gold and diamond earrings that caught the light with every turn of her head.

Gaston decided that his impromptu kajal eye makeup was old news. He created his own gold-flecked eye shimmer. It was thick and extremely pigmented. He applied it with a gentle hand onto her eyes and added it generously to the front of her hairline. He kept her lashes dark and her lips and cheeks a soft, subtle pink. At the very last minute, he began to lightly dust her entire face, arms, neck, and chest in a sheer gold shimmer.

With hours of heat styling, it took Mary time to get Jane's hair just right. She gently twisted and wrapped Jane's natural curls around the heated rods, creating loose spirals that would later form the base of her lower transitional pouf. The pouf would rise high above her shoulders, showcasing her graceful neck, with a long framing curl that would fall down her back.

Once the curls had set, Mary carefully unwrapped the rods, revealing bouncy, voluminous spirals. With expert precision, Mary began to sculpt the pouf, gathering the curls at the back and securing them with delicate pins. The height of the hair was a status symbol, and tonight they went big, adding a few inches to Jane’s stature.

As the final touches were made, Jane’s hair was decorated with accessories: a few sparkling hair pins shaped like delicate blossoms, glinting softly in the light, and a sheer ribbon woven throughout the curls, cascading gracefully down one side. A small cluster of gold-painted feathers was tucked artfully into the pouf, adding a touch of whimsy and sophistication.

Most striking of all was the solid gold masquerade mask she held delicately in her hands. Its elaborate filigree design matched the gown perfectly, promising an air of mystery and importance the moment she stepped foot in the palace. With each detail carefully considered, she knew that tonight was not only about her. This was about all the people who came together to make this night possible for her: the designers, the makeup artists, the hairdressers, the shoemakers. All the people who used their creativity to make the elite look their best. These events created revenue for them, and despite her not wanting to go, she could at least bring attention to those who helped her.

Charlotte burst into her room with Eloise in hand, gasping at the sight of her. “You look amazing! You look like the gold sculptures of Versailles!”

“You two look incredible,” Jane laughed as Eloise twirled like a ballerina, showing off her dress. Charlotte wore a blue dress with puffy shoulders and a huge skirt that jutted out on the sides. Pearls and diamonds littered her skin, accentuating her eyes. Eloise looked like a princess in her pink fluffy dress, her hair twisted into a crown.

“Everyone is going to love my dress. I’m the best dressed,” Eloise sighed confidently. Charlotte and Jane burst into laughter. Eloise’s confidence knew no bounds, but Charlotte would never take that away from her—especially knowing that she would only experience about three hours of the party before it became adults-only.

“You’re absolutely right, mon chér,” Charlotte kissed the top of her head.

“We're already behind schedule. Let’s go now before they start dancing,” Charlotte said, grabbing Eloise’s hand, and the trio rushed for the door. Caden was already waiting in the carriage.

A wide-set carriage would have to do, given how big their dresses were. Even so, Caden was squished against the window, talking about how he refused to ride back with the rest of them. Eloise just laughed and teased him for the entire hour.

Roman Pov

“If she does not arrive within the next few minutes, I’m going to go look for her.” Roman anxiously sipped his brandy. The mask was rubbing against his face so uncomfortably that he nearly tore it off. The room was muggy, and the alcohol likely didn’t help. A good portion of the people in this room hated his guts. Some of their friends had met unfortunate ends by his hand. Those early days of running rampant around Europe, committing crimes would leave a lasting stain on how he was perceived. He didn’t care for forgiveness, but he knew that Jane’s reputation was in a fragile spot. Tonight, she must do well.

The parties of real nobility were where the true monsters resided. They did not care to hide their prejudices. Arnaud’s court was more tolerant and open-minded. However, these people were a different breed. They did not often brush shoulders with outsiders. They believed in a “natural order” and made it known. He would do his best to dodge those conversations.

“You forget how heavy those dresses are. It takes them ten minutes just to get downstairs to the carriages, and then even more time to get out. You’re anxious. Relax. She’s done this before,” said Arnaud. He always had the same laid-back disposition. Roman used to have it too, once upon a time. Then he met Jane, and the stakes were higher.

“I’m not anxious,” Roman scoffed.

“You’ve adjusted your tie about twenty times since you’ve been here—standing at the bottom of the stairs. You know these environments like the back of your hand. It will be what it will be,” Arnaud sighed.

“If I hear one thing that I don’t like, I might start flipping tables over, Arnaud. I mean it,” Roman warned, an edge to his voice that sounded more pirate than gentleman.

“You will do no such thing. There is too much at stake. You underestimate her,” Arnaud chuckled.

“I do not.”

Arnaud rolled his eyes. “You do. She’s a smart girl. I’ve seen her work her charm. The Parisians love charm. Now if you don’t relax, I’ll have to give you something stronger.”

Roman cursed under his breath as he adjusted his tie one more time. This event was open to the public, but direct invitees wore masquerade masks. This alone drew a line in the sand of who was important and who wasn’t. It also dictated who was invited to dinner and who wasn’t.

A commotion stirred at the top of the steps, and a wooden staff echoed across the room. Someone was coming.

“The Duchess of Orleans, Charlotte Du Pointe, and her lady daughter, Eloise Du Pointe!” the announcer projected across the room. Charlotte appeared at the top of the steps with her daughter Eloise. Their masks glistened against the soft lights of the room, matching their dresses.

Their dresses were big and bright: Charlotte in cotton candy blue and Eloise in light pink. Eloise had a big smile on her face as she yanked her hand from her mother’s hold. “HIII, everybody!!!” she yelled, waving to the room. The guests chortled, chuckled, and swooned at the little girl as a guard escorted her down the stairs in a hurry. She was still at that age where everyone looked at her with adoration and humor. Charlotte softly giggled instead of reprimanding her daughter, a clear indicator of her humble background. She allowed Eloise to be a child. Eloise, still fearless about the world and the people in it, immediately ran to Arnaud and buried her face in his knees.

“Papa, do you like my dress?!” she giggled. Arnaud picked her up with nothing short of pride in his eyes as he complimented the beauty of his daughter. His wife appeared poised and graceful by his side. He kissed her cheek. For a moment, the former pirate forgot what was at stake as Arnaud became enraptured with his family.

Three more clicks of a wooden staff, and the announcer cleared his throat. The room paused, chatter fading as always, ready to cast judgment, ready to gawk and gossip. The minute a glimpse of gold peeked over the stairs, the room fell from quiet to dead silent. “Mademoiselle Jane of London and Monsieur Caden of Grimsby!”

Jane, glimmering, golden, and shiny like stardust, stepped into everyone’s line of view at the top of the stairs, Caden by her side, a helpful arm for her to hold onto. Everything about her defied the rules of court, yet everything about her drew the crowd in. That gold on her, the way her skin absorbed it and then shot it back around the room like a source of light. Her body shimmered with it. Her mask, completely solid gold to match. The cut of the dress, her jewelry—her first step down the stairs set off an echo of gasps everywhere. The crowd inched forward slightly, each shift of her dress and click of her heel bouncing off the waxed marble floor, alerting everyone to her presence. Jane was a vision, a statue come to life.

As she made her way slowly down the stairs, Roman could hear the shock, the whispers, and murmurs.

“Provocante!” (Provocative)

“L’audace!” (The audacity)

“Audacieuse!” (Bold)

As she inched closer, the details of her beauty stood out against all others. She parted the room with each step. The murmurs grew louder as she stepped onto the main floor. Roman was there to greet her with a kiss to the back of her hand. He pulled her by the waist into his chest, her hands gently placed on his. Her sparkling eyes met his gaze, not an inkling of shyness in them.She had changed from when they first met. This was her final form. Or rather—her true one.

“You are absolutely stunning. I would ask you to marry me again, but I already did,” Roman sighed. To say that he was mesmerized would be an understatement. She laughed and raised herself on the tips of her toes to meet his kiss.

“Well, ask again if you must, but my answer will probably be yes, just so you know,” she smiled. She pulled away to look at his outfit. “You look absolutely amazing. They did such a good job matching us.”

“It was a nightmare letting them dress me. The stylist had to stand on a stool to put on my shirt. I’ll be glad to leave this place,” Roman complained.

“Not too fast. You owe me the night,” she purred.

“Do I? I don’t remember making any promises, but with how you look right now, I’m inclined to comply.”

“If you know what’s good for you,” she smirked.

They went to get a drink at the refreshment table. She kept complimenting his suit.

He wore a tailored deep black coat with a sumptuous finish that caught the light, fitted at the waist and flaring slightly at the hips. Beneath it, a crisp white linen shirt had billowing sleeves and a high ruffled collar. His black waistcoat featured intricate gold embroidery, complementing Jane's attire. The perfectly tailored trousers tapered at the ankles, revealing polished black leather shoes. He completed the look with a soft ivory silk cravat fastened by a delicate gold pin and a black masquerade mask adorned with a single feather, like Jane's.

Roman looked around the room at the glares directed at his fiancée. He noticed something quite particular: many of the women had teased, curly hair, clearly manipulated by heat to the point of frizz. They wore dark eye makeup and dark gowns. This style was not popular in the French court; women typically opted for bright colors. Dark colors were seen as too mature or even suggestive. So to see so many women in dark reds, greens, blacks, and blues was almost jarring.

That’s when he realized that Jane had become a bit of a muse. There would never be an admission as to who they were imitating. The thought nearly made him burst into laughter. And now she was wearing a color that was hard to produce: a pure gold dress—true to the color. Another peculiar choice for French society. Jane had left her mark.

“When is the food coming?” Caden interrupted, startling Jane as she forgot he was hovering around.

“Is that all you think about?” Roman laughed.

“I’m a growing boy. Ooo—hors d’oeuvres!” Caden trailed off, following one of the servers holding a tray of snacks.

After the arrival of guests, the opening ceremony started. The royal family was introduced with a live orchestra performance. After the opening ceremony, balls like these had a specific order: the first dance, dinner, special performances, more dancing, closing festivities, and departure. This would be a long night.

There would be no first dance without the King and Queen participating first. He pulled his much younger wife onto the dance floor. She wore a pristine all-white gown. Everything she wore was white, including her hair and the whites of her eyes. The King tried his best to match her, but the blueness of his veins stood out against the absence of color. Everything was so manufactured between the two of them, even down to the smiles they gave one another—a pretending love. A love that never was.

Everybody in this room should want to be them, to want what they had: as many children, as much money, as much power as they did. Roman looked at Jane as she watched the two of them, her expression indifferent but calm. He was standing next to the sun. He had something more valuable than what any monarchy could provide. A true love, an undefiled, uncultivated love. A love that money couldn’t buy. She caught his gaze. He held his hand out to her, and she took it without hesitation as they walked to join the dancing couple along with Arnaud and Charlotte.

The minuet, a slow and graceful dance characterized by its elegant movements and intricate footwork, was typically danced in 3/4 time. It involved a series of steps that included gliding movements, turns, and the signature minuet pose, where dancers would often bow or curtsy.

The most intimate part of the dance was when the couple circled each other, with one hand pressed against the other in the air. He always found the dance a bit silly, but not this time. Jane’s natural grace added beauty to the dance. The staring eventually got to her, and she decided she was ready to sit down. Soon after the first dance came dinner—a whole other beast.

Dinner was all about the King flexing his power over others. High-ranking nobles sat elevated in the center of the room. Anyone below the Duke and Duchess sat on the outskirts. Low-ranking nobles stood to eat. Special guests also stood to eat. The whole ordeal would have been unforgivable if not for the delicious food: stuffed lamb, roasted duck, Canard aux Cerises, Boeuf à la Mode, Poisson à la Sauce Duxelles, Soupe aux Choux, canapés, tarts, artisan breads dipped in butter, roasted vegetables of all kinds, fish, mussels, clams, oysters, lobster, mince pies, potato pies, quiches, mousse, cream, pastries of every variety, candied fruits with crackly coatings, marzipan. The list went on and on and on. Jane whispered to him how she’d rather eat alone with a spread like this, which made him laugh. Back on the ship, there were no manners besides keeping your food and hands to yourself. He’d seen her bite into the side of a chuck roast like a lion. He wasn’t much for manners himself; he found table manners taunting in a way. Food had to be eaten in a certain order with a certain utensil. Thankfully, with them placed on the outskirts of the room, there was nobody to witness him eat his slice of ham quiche in one singular bite, except for Jane of course. She had to swallow her food before she choked from laughing.

Nobles used toasts to shine the spotlight on their eloquence and wit—always circling back to the King and Queen. There had been five toasts that night, and soon it became rather pathetic. In the distance, Charlotte had to cover her mouth with a fan after the viscount stood to give a speech about France being the most powerful country and how good looking the King was— or something of the sort.

After dinner, there were performances. Ballet dancers entranced the crowd with their grace. A very young violinist by the name of Joseph Bologne stunned the crowd with his musicality, making his instrument create sounds beyond comprehension. Jane was particularly amazed by him. English circus performers showcased impressive skills, such as acrobatics, juggling, and contortion. They performed daring feats, captivating the audience with their physical abilities. Fire-breathing got the crowd rowdy and lively.

Magicians and illusionists interacted with the crowd, pulling doves from scarves and rabbits from hats. The performances were wrapped with plate-spinning dancers from Shanghai, who spun porcelain plates on ridiculously long sticks and walked on stilts, doing difficult stunts and synchronized dancing in colorful outfits with elaborate makeup.

More dancing ensued, this time with livelier dances like the gavotte. Dessert wines like Sauternes flowed as people became looser. Children were sent off to bed while the adults enjoyed the rest of the festivities. Parlor games were played during the intermission, like charades. Roman enjoyed a few rounds of the card game baccarat with Arnaud in a private salon near the ballroom, savoring a few smokes.

Jane was having a good time, and he was in no rush to ruin the fun. She had finally realized why they called Charlotte the life of the party. The two danced and drank repeatedly as the crowd became increasingly intoxicated. A fireworks show ended the night as the crowd slowly dissipated over the next few hours. With the King and Queen retiring to bed, there was no need to impress. People took champagne bottles for themselves. Roman had to search the room just to find Jane and Charlotte near the balcony, sharing a bottle of wine and grapes.

“Have you gotten it out of your system?” Roman stood a few feet away, watching the pair as they draped over each other.

“Just wait until the wedding,” Charlotte snickered.

“SMALL wedding,” Jane laughed. She reached her arms out for Roman, and he picked her up onto her feet. Arnaud was on his way to his wife, who was entering a zone of drunkenness that was inappropriate for court. But with most of the nobles gone, nobody really cared now. Jane was flirty, more handsy than usual. She had a light buzz but still had her wits about her.

“Did you have fun?” he whispered to her as he picked her up bridal style. She took the opportunity to kick off her heels and carry them.

Caden would stay the night along with Arnaud, Charlotte, and Eloise. Charlotte promised him a Versailles breakfast, and the young lad agreed—a bit drunk himself and cycling through sleep on one of the chairs near the dance floor.

“After everybody got drunk, absolutely. I danced circles around those old farts with Charlotte. Now my feet hurt,” Jane sighed.

“We can get you into a hot bath to help those feet, and you can tell me all about your night.”

“My night? What about your night? Did you like any of it?”

Roman set her down inside the carriage and stepped in foot first. “Maybe the food. I also won a gambling match with one of the viscounts from Italy. I won his gold watch. The old bloke was fuming.”

“Gambling? You really are a pirate, aren’t you?” Jane snickered.

The carriage dashed into the night with the horses rested and ready to sprint. Jane was already ripping at a piece of her costume and throwing it on the floor of the cart.

“This thing is so hot,” she grunted.

“It’s the wine. It’s a chilly night.

“ Help me take it off”, she whined. Roman obliged and loosened her corset for her.

“ Nono…I just need the skirt cage off “, she pleads.

“ I…I have to go under your dress and I can barely see anything.”

She rolls her eyes. “ What are you…scared something’s going to jump out and bite you? It’s not like you haven’t visited down there before. I don’t have an extra set of teeth—I promise.”

Roman chuckled at her bluntness. “ I don’t want to mess up such a beautiful dress. You know the stylists are really fickle about how you take off the dress. I could break something”

“ Roman. Take off the fucking cage.”

Taken aback by her tone he dives right into action and drops to his knees. “ Yes ma’am.”

On the floor, he pops under the skirt of her dress and feels along her skin. The smooth silk of her flesh is almost enough for him to forget the task until her hips wiggle when he stalls. She really wants it off. He feels up and over her hips where the buttons securing the contraption are held together. He blindly tugs and pulls away at the fabric until something snaps.

“ You got it”, her voice calls out in a dramatic hopeful tone. He backs away with the cage in his hands, pulling it from under her. The bottom of the dress deflates.

“ I mean I found something hard and smooth so I figured it had to be it.”

“ I knew you’d find it. You’re notoriously good at finding buttons. You may be the only man in Europe who actually can ”, she jokes suggestively. Roman chuckled quietly as he sat on his knees on the carriage floor. Her cage sat next to her and the clicking of horse hooves seemed to fill in the gaps of silence. Jane’s smile melts into something more assertive, more sultry.

With great attention to her expression, he testfully grabs onto one of her ankles and brings it to the side of his face, sniffing it before resting it on his shoulder

“ Did you put perfume here ?” He asks quietly. His voice swells with a daring tone. A hidden question really. Is he reading her correctly?

“ Yes”, she says in a quiet tone. A small smirk spreads on her painted lips.

“ Now, Why on earth would you do that?”, he tests.

“ Well it got your attention didn’t it ?”, she quips. A cheeky edge to her words. Her eyes— a challenge.

He says nothing, only takes the same leg on his shoulder and trails his fingers down the side of it in a slow manner. His eyes remain planted on her as he draws swirls up into her inner thigh. Her breath is slightly labored, the rise and fall of her breasts noticeable from the way the corset fabric sparkled in the low light.

Large and calloused hands massage her inner thigh. He can feel her muscles tense and release under his touch. He brushed the other thigh with the tips of his fingers, starting the process over and again. Working and winding her up as he watched her fingers dig into the cushion of the seat underneath her.

Slowly, he pulls down her undergarments and flings them behind him. The heat radiating from her skin met it’s peak here. She parts her legs further, a beckoning. An invitation to come closer.

His hand meet soft, wet, warm skin. He groans despite knowing it would be there. How could it not? It had been weeks since he last touched her. They had been busy and coming down on the high of finding the treasure. She was sopping. A true testament to how much her body missed him. They both groaned audibly when his thumb pressed that spot where she needed him most. She melts into his seat, head lulling back as she moans against each wet sweep of his thumb.

“ Were you like this…all night ?”

“ Yes”, she whines. Shifting in her seat, he closes the space between them until her butt is nearly touching his torso. Both of her legs rest on his shoulders as he firmly rubs her in circular motions.

“ Tell me…”

“ T-Tell you what?”, she stutters

“ What thought led to what I’m feeling underneath my fingertips right now”, he gruffs.

“ F-Fear”, she sighed breathlessly.

“ Of what?”

“ Fear that when you make me cum..it won’t be enough. It won’t be enough until I have all of you.”

“ You have me”, he urges.

“ Not in every way”, she gasped as his fingers speed up on her clit. It didn’t take much with her. Not with his skill.

“ Speak”, he commands. And he’s sure it feels like being doused in cold water with the way she jerks at the sound. Especially when all she wants to do is sink into the sofa and melt away. But now his breath was labored—heart racing as he anticipated the sound she would make.

“ I Need Your C— ,” and her sentence is cut short with an abrupt squeak as she cums against his fingers. He presses and rubs until her writhing stops . A restlessness still prevalent even after she’s gotten her fix.

“ You finish that sentence”, he leans in to kiss the sides of her neck as his hands trail up and down the sides of her. She’s hazy from the orgasm.

Shyly.. she continues in another way. “ What you’ve given me all this time. It was enough then…but not anymore”, she pants.

Roman needed no other explanation and he dare not make her second guess. Instead he sits back and pulls her to a straddle on top of him. She grabs his face and kisses him. The smokiness of his mouth makes her rut into his crotch feverently, nearly making him release into his pants. He has to stop her prematurely.

Kissing, tugging, pulling, gripping. The surprising sting of a bite to his chest. The tearing of fabric they’ll regret later. The panting across exposed skin. The drag of nails scraping across heated flesh. She made a mess of him to match her own. A whole hour swallowed by the lust of two.

When the carriage screeched to a stop they both paused to assess the damage. Roman’s top was destroyed. He noticed the way she glanced at her hands—likely wondering how she possessed the strength. He threw his coat over her shoulders as the help escorted them back up to their bedroom.

“ Hot water in the tub Joffrey”, he calls to the butler already waiting at the door.

Three servants take turns walking in and out the room to fill the tub awaiting in the other room. Jane watches quietly as she grips the oversized jacket around her. Her lips are swollen from him. Her biting the corners doesn't make it any better. It doesn’t make this any easier. Doesn’t give him any more composure .

Jane Pov

“ Will my bath slow the momentum ?”, she asks quietly. She doesn’t want the maids to hear.

“ Have I not proven my patience by now?”

“ Is it wrong to ask? Have you noticed you’re about to rip out of your pants?” Roman frowns at her in confusion. Her eyes trail down to his sizeable erection that jutted from his black dress trousers. His eyes meet it with surprise as if he forgot. So used to ignoring his body in respect of her boundaries. In respect of her limits.

“ I’ll take my bath cold…in the other room ”, he calls out to the servants in the bathroom.

With a kiss to her forehead, he leaves behind the servants. Maybe some distance would be for the best. The bath would give her time to think. The scented oils relaxed her but she still felt so empty. The desire to be filled, something foreign to her until now.

She took her hair down in the tub and pinned it up again, less uniform, uncaring if some strands got wet. She scrubbed her skin with something scented. She made quick work of it.

She dried off, creamed her skin, and took off her jewelry. She kept thinking about what to wear. What do people usually wear? Well …nothing by the end of it she supposed. But how to entice ? She knew nothing about seduction. So maybe nothing could be something ? She wiped the color from her lips from her mouth. No time to get rid of the eyes. She found a thick hair ribbon, she wrapped it around her neck and tied it into a bow. The dress that the maids brought up in pieces included the stockings that she rolled up her thighs. A once over in the mirror and she felt it was enough. Courtesan in a way.

She draped herself in her robe and waited. She didn’t send for him. He would come back when he was ready. It didn’t take long thankfully. She could hear him send away the butler for the night from behind the door. Her hands sweat as the doorknob turns.

He stands in the hallway. Brooding and wide, like when they first met. His hair wet and his skin coated with a light mist from his bath. No shirt, loose fitting cotton trousers. Every tattoo is even bolder than she remembered. His eyes were hungry but controlled as always. She stands carefully as he turns to close the door and lock it . By the time he turns back around she’s quickly slipped off her robe. He freezes in place, eyes darkening even in the light.

He doesn’t move to grab her. No throwing her down on the bed. Instead, he slowly walks over to the table at the far end of the room. A fire crackles next to it. He sits down at the chair, legs spread wide. He motions his finger for her. A quiet “stand in front of me”. Being gawked at all night did nothing for her. It didn’t move her. But under his gaze…she could barely take it. Hesitantly, she makes her way to him.

For a moment she’s stunned—nearly losing the steam to do this. To be this courageous, sexy, brave woman who takes charge. But when he finally speaks it’s simple. “Take down all your hair. Please”, he says. An authority in his voice, controlled, quiet. She reaches for her hair pins and lets her tresses down, loosening the curls with a shake of her hand. “ Perfect”, he whispers.

Going with her gut, instead of stepping closer she gets on her knees. Intrigued, his gaze tracked her movements as she began to crawl to him slowly. One hand extending out behind the other carefully and methodically. She reaches his knees and places her hands on the both of them. That cold bath did nothing for him clearly. His erection was jutting out of his pants like a sword.

“ Are sure ?”, he asks. She doesn’t answer, only slides her hands up his chest reassuringly. This is the man she loved. The man she was going to marry. This was safe. He was safe. He’d proven that long ago. She united the strings holding his cotton trousers. He lifted up when she pulled them down. His erection sprung out and hit his stomach.

She seized it in her hands and felt the pulse of him around his fingers. Roman had time to learn her. He studied the way she liked to be licked. The way he wanted his mouth slated against her cunt. The speed of his tongue. He knew how to make her fall apart in seconds. She had not learned him. Never tasted him in her mouth. Never felt the beat of his pulse on her tongue. She wanted to do this well.

His girth has always been impressive but not painfully thick. With time she could take the stretch of him without thought. His length, however, was a whole other feat. How on earth would all of it fit? She cut those thoughts off before she chickened out.

At least it was beautiful. Lengthy, curved upwards, a fleshy pink tip, dusky shaded skin, chiseled in thick veins, a heavy sack. Pearls of arousal glisten at the top of him. She swipes away at it with her tongue. He’s completely still, watching her closely, waiting for her to back out. But the alarms weren’t ringing yet. She needed to give him what he gave her. Or at least try her best to do so.

Boldly, she wrapped her lips around the head of him and looked up at him through her lashes. He’s biting his fist. She gives him kitten licks. He takes a deep inhale and grabs the arms of his chair with a vibe grip. She pulls back and softly strokes him with both hands.

“ I’ve never done this because I wanted to until now. So you’re going to have to tell me what you want. What you like and what you don’t”, she says quietly.

“ Well, you’ve got the first step down. You put your mouth around me. Don’t stop on my account”, he grunts. Jane resumes, taking him into her mouth.

“ Use your hands where your mouth can’t reach”, he says. A shaky edge to his tone. She listens, using the spit that rolled down his shaft beneath her hands.

She’s timid, careful not to hurt him. Not to squeeze him too hard. He’s so big that if she goes too far she gags a bit. That didn’t scare her knowing that she controlled the pace. The sound of him grunting was a motivator. Everytime she pressed her mouth further down his shaft, not only would her eyes water but her mouth would too. Her hands were drenched. She pulled away to get something to clean some of the mess up. He gently stops her.

“ You’re doing it perfectly, leave it ”, he says. His composure slipping through a clenched jaw. He didn’t want to cum but she sumized it would be easy to get him back up if he did.

So she goes back for more, inching further and further down his shaft. She made a proper mess of herself. She destroyed her eye makeup. Her nose was running, her mouth was watering like a spigot. He holds her hair for her but he keeps his hands clear from the back of her head.

She sort of liked the mess. The sound of her working him in her mouth, the choking, the sniffling, the sounds of his groans whenever her hand drifts to his sack. The sound he bit back when she massaged them. It was easy to get enthusiastic when she felt his composure slipping from him. When his groans turned into audible sighs when she sucked his head harder.

She pulls away to catch her breath, panting from the exertion of it. In some strange way she felt powerful. Which was funny considering that she was the one on her knees. But maybe it was the reassurance that she could please him successfully. That she was capable of giving back what she had received for so long.

“ Spit on it.”

“ spit on it ?”, She echoes.

“ Like it just pissed you off”, he dares.

Jane nearly laughs but he was clearly serious. And so she does. His hips shift as she works her hand over him before doing it again and licking it up. That earns a full out moan. She bobs up and down the length of him, getting as much in and she could comfortably allow. Bubbles form at the sides of her mouth. She wraps her mouth just around the engorged head and sucks firmly.

Instead of stroking him up and down she began to gently twist with each pump of her fist as her mouth suctioned around the head of him. Then ever so often she would twist her mouth as she came up. Roman, once so stoic and controlled, was hissing in agreement with her new found technique. The praise sent waves of arousal tingling on her breast, her cunt, and deep in her stomach.

“ God dammit…just like that. What a good girl you are. Are you my good girl ?”, he cooes.

“ —-Glaahhjksmm!—”, she talks around his cock as she pushes against the barrier of her reflex. Spit froths and flows as she gathers it around his sack and massages it in time with her strokes. A full on moan wrecks his throat from the vibration on her mouth. His eyes danced around the room and his head falls back.

And just as she’d been taught, she sucked it all up and spat it right back onto the head of his cock. A gut punching sounding groan falls from his lips. This time, instead of sucking, she begins blowing air around the cock in her mouth, gargling and gurgling against his skin as she pushed down down down down. His hips twist and bend. “ Alrightalrightaright wait... Fuuckkk. Stop”, he stutters. She pulls away quickly.

“ Did I knick you?” She panics.

“ No. But this will be over before it starts if you keep going dove. Fucking hell….”, he chuckles. She can see his brow broke out in the sweat earlier. She looks down at her hands. Her chin is drenched. Her makeup is sliding down her cheeks.

“ Maybe I should get cleaned up first”, she giggles. Roman looks at her, eyes full of admiration like they were when she came down the steps. To her shock he grabs her and kisses her, tongue and all. When he pulled away it stunned her.

“ Enjoy the taste ? ”, she chuckles .

“ I should ask you the same”, he teases. He disappears into the bathroom and comes back with a wet cotton rag, helping her to clean up her hands and mouth.

He places the rag on the table and abruptly picks her up. She squeals in surprise, wrapping her legs around waist.

Her back hits the bed. He climbs on it, going straight for her legs. Slowly, he peels her stockings off with his teeth. He’s sure to nip her ankles and the inside of her thigh. His beard a welcome sensory against the sensitivity of her skin.

He makes no introduction, only an immediate shot for her clit. He sucks her into his mouth and watches her thrash against him. Immediately sending her into sensory overload.

He laps at her with the tip of his tongue before running it over the entirety of her cunt. Pressing his entire mouth on it and sliding his lips across it like an open kiss. She can already feel her peak approaching as he hooks his arms under her thighs and pulls her closer. Her hands reach for his hair and tug aimlessly.

He makes a show of it, growling into her. Thumbing at her breasts. She’s about to cum already. Almost embarrassingly soon. But he had learned her for months now, an advantage that he took happily.

“ Are you in a rush?”, she whimpered.

“ I’m in no rush, your body on the other hand seems to be”, he mumbled against her skin. She fell apart on his mouth, back bowing against the bed. He left her no room to pull away, no room for reprieve as he sucked her through her orgasm and after. He made no move to pause until she cried out into the room, shouting expletives that were half gibberish.

He went back for more. She nearly protests this until she realizes just what she was up against. This generous foreplay wasn’t just for his pleasure or her own. It was to prepare her. She fought past the overstimulation and held herself to the mattress as he started all over again.

But Roman would take and take and take. What she would allow he would take for his own. For these matters he had no mercy. Enough was never enough. He would drink and never be full. With her second climax she dug her feet into his back, trembling against the intensity of it. That familiar haze washes over her, making her brain all muggy . Bringing a tingle to her lips and feet.

“ I know you have one more”, he rumbled against the side of her thigh.

“ Mmpphhmm”, she groans.

When his tongue dragged against her clit she flinched. His hands snaked around her waist as he swung his face in a nodding motion against her, lazily swiping his tongue up and down the entirety of her. Each pass, more sensitive than the other. His large hands rest at the bottom of her belly, pressing down each time her back tried to depart the bed. A reminder that she wasn’t going anywhere until she gave him exactly what he wanted.

Teasingly, the tip of his tongue would swirl around her clit, purposely missing where she wanted him most. Her hips followed his mouth, swirling and bucking towards him as pulled away further. His licks turned to gentle flicks, a glint of playfulness in his eyes as he watched her grow increasingly impatient. Suddenly, so responsive after claiming to be too sensitive.

“ Come on baby, right there”, she grabbed the backs of his hair with her fist and brought him to where she needed him. Still testing her patience, he kissed her skin gently instead. She threw her head back as she tried to push herself toward him.

“ Please …please”, she moaned.

And with that, he enclosed his mouth around her nerves and sucked hard. Instantly, she gasped as he punished her with fast hard licks, pressed firmly against her skin.

“ AAAH!!”, she cried. She came harshly against his mouth, throbbing against each pass of his tongue. He made her ride out her climax until the bitter end. Twitching—she pushed his forehead. He pulls away, kissing up stomach. He sucks bruises into her skin. The suction of his mouth pulls her nipples to pebbles, electrifying a path down her stomach.

“ Aren’t you going to unwrap me? I’m not fully undressed until you do”, she pants. She was tired from those series of mini climaxes that he inflicted upon her. She can feel the rumble from his chuckle vibrate against her chest. He kisses a path back up her chest. The scrape of his beard tickles her neck and he unties it with his mouth. His fingers reach down between her legs to feel her arousal.

Her heart races as he pulls her closer, adjusting his position between her legs. Involuntarily she stiffens. His fingers feel it along her muscles. He stops immediately to assess. “ Where are you right now ? Where did you go ?”

She blinks a few times before she answers. “ Habit. I’m sorry.”

“ Any moment. Even seconds from now or minutes or an hour from now. You can tell me to stop. We can start again when you want. We can try again on a different night. It’s your choice.” He grabs her face in his, his forehead against her own.

“ I know. I know, I want this now. I'm just anxious.”

“ It doesn't have to be perfect Jane," he says quietly. A thoughtful look spreads across his face. She had an idea in her head of what this would be. She would be responsive, she would look perfect, be perfect. But there was no audience. There was nothing to prove. This was for them and nobody else.

She nods quietly and reaches for him. She needed him close to drown out the panic and the noise. To feel his breath in her face, his warmth. He leans down, elbows on either side of her face. With one hand he reaches down and graces his fingers across her cunt, spreading around her arousal. When she relaxes he pushes in one finger. A small gasp leaves her lip but her composure remains.

He asks. “ Okay?”

“ Okay”, she nods.

He pumps it in slowly back and forth, gently sawing with the pressure. Roman is watchful, nearly nose to nose with her as he tests her. A second finger and she groans from the sensation. Her body could tell how long it’s been for her. She's pulsing around his digits as she involuntarily sucks him in. No pleasure was present quite yet. But that was to be expected. For now her focus was only on trying to stay calm.

“ I’ll let you. I’ll let you…”, she whispers to him. Her voice so fragile—in this moment she felt like she was made of glass. He felt it too. He stares at her for a moment, unsure if she’s sure. She nods silently. His fingers pull away and his right arm returns to the side of her head.

He uses his other hand, reaching in between them to center himself with her opening. Then she feels it, that pressure, the stretch. Her eyes widen as he surges forward gently. Jane’s hands fly to his shoulders as she feels a sound creeping up from behind her lips.

Determined to distract her, he grabs her face with soft hands. “ Hey…relax. Relax. Where are you right now? Are you with me ?”, he asks gently.

“ Yes I’m…yes I’m with yo—”, she loses control of her breathing as the air leaves her . She can feel all of him now. He’s sheathed inside of her and the fit is snug.

“ Am I causing you pain?”

“ No…yes…I mean no..I don’t fucking know”, she sputtered. The sensation was overwhelming. To be so filled, so stuffed. To feel the heat of him inside her. The tight fit despite her being the wettest she’s ever been……” You’re just so…big”, she sighed.

“ Your body will get used to it the more I move. We can try another—.”

“ NO …no, just give me a second”, she urged. So instead his mouth found hers as he waited for her body to relax. She was squeezing him so tight he wondered if he’d actually be able to move at all. Sly fingers slip back between them to swipe at her clit. Another wave of arousal seeps around him. He shudders from it. She sucks his tongue. He nips the side of her jaw.

“ Slowly…”, she rasps against his mouth. She can hear a decompressing sigh from him as his muscles shift and he pulls out and in, slowly. Methodically. The drag of him against her walls, his veins, his heat. Foreign, too foreign to derive pleasure so soon. Yet too comforting to hate.

She looked between them as he lifts up slightly, getting a full view of the way he appears and then disappears—coming out gleaming in her arousal. It was her body doing that. It was her body capable of that. It took a moment to register.

“ You’re still far away”, he pants. His composure bending against the pressure of his arousal. His tone swollen with need -velvety and full.

“ Maybe I’m just broken down there. I’m not exactly the type to finish during these endeavors”, she mutters. He doesn’t like that at all. She can tell by the way he tucks in his lips. He pauses for a moment, as he sits back on the heels of his feet. The head of him is just barely tucked into her body.

“ That wasn’t sex”, he says firmly. “ but this is…and it’s a head game. I mean your brain doesn’t even realize how close you are. I can feel it Jane”, he looked down at where they connect. His thumb rolls over her clit as he feels her contract around him. “How about this”. Roman searches the bed for the ribbon he pulled off her and holds it above her face. “ I’m going to put this over your eyes and we’ll see just how much you “don’t work”. With nothing to distract you, you have no choice but to feel”, he explains. Jane looks at the red ribbon. Who would have thought she’d be wearing it as an eye cover.

“ Okay”, she says. He placed the ribbon over her eyes, wrapping it twice around her head. Her fingers press gently against the silk when he’s finished.

Then he’s inside again. Behind the blackness of her lids, she imagines what it looks like. But with her mind racing and her sight missing, the feeling of him inside her is even more prominent. It quiets the noise of her mind as she listens to the soft grunts that escape him as he presses into her. Every little moan that leaves him raises the stakes of her arousal. She can hear how wet she is now and so can he. Her hands seek the wrists he balanced himself on. They wrap around them, feeling the veins in his skin. She can’t even enclose her fist around it. He was just that big. And strangely enough, that thought grew and grew into something more. A naughty thought that ignited all the other hidden ones.

His thrusts change and with a pass of his hips, they thrust upward and press. He brushes up against something startling. Again and again. Each pass becoming more and more sensitive. Her body learns to become reactive to his touch. The pleasure sneaks up on her and wraps itself around her like a thick smoke, clogging her mind. She envisions it as it invades her, fully claiming her. It arrives and her mouth wrenches open in a long, aching, desperate moan.

Encouraging murmurs fall from his mouth but they’re drowned out as small moans bursts from her mouth. Suddenly, she had no control over her volume, no control over what she said. It was as if this foreign pleasure that he promised her had already possessed her entirely.

“ Oh..OHH—fuck!”, she cried. Now she’s thankful for the ribbon. She wasn’t sure if she wanted him to see the way one of her eyes uncontrollably rolled into the back of her head. He surges a bit deeper than before and she can barely control the squeeze of her toes. It’s too complicated to focus on her breathing so every few thrusts she decided it was easier to hold her breath.

“ Breath or I stop ”, he warns.

“ I can’t…pleaseee”, she croakes. Her nails begin to bite the skin on his wrists. That just makes him surge deeper.

“ You can’t cum if you pass out. I need you awake. I need to watch your face when you finally do ”, he pants.

She can feel his mouth on the side of her ankle and his thumb on her clit again. Something rushes through her, it’s so overpowering that it forces the air back into her lungs and then out again, Her body erupts in tingles from head to toe.

This release is deeper, more concentrated, more intense than she’s used to. She squeezes around him so harshly that he hisses as she cums. Her legs shake as he rubs her clit in deep circles, wringing every bit of her pleasure out. She shakes against him like she’d been left out to dry. For a moment she remembers that Roman is greedy. He has no mercy for pleasure and he would very much let it drown her in it if she allowed it.

“ Okayyyy. Okay! Fuckfuckfuck!”, she bursts as she pushes against his chest. He pulls out and gives her some reprieve as she scrambles for the ribbon covering her eyes. He gets to it first, pulling it off for her.

Her eyes are wide when the lights of the room come into view. He’s flustered, sweaty, hair wild all over his head. Suddenly he bursts into a deep chuckle, showing his pearly white teeth as he gazes down at her bewilderment.“ You’d think you saw a ghost”, he snickered.

Her body still tingled, ears still buzzed. She sits up and so does he. “ So I may or may not have overreacted before all of this”, she admits sheepishly. He laughs even harder. No seriously, if she would have known it would be this easy. If she’d known that it would feel like that, she would have done it sooner.

“ Come here. We’re not done… ”, Roman turns to lay on his side. She crawls to him and he pulls her back against his chest. His arm pushes behind her head for cushion while the other hitches her leg up. He slides in with an almost comical ease compared to only minutes ago. Yet, she was just as breathless. Still gasping at the feeling of him inside of her. She turns her head to watch him as he keeps a steady but firm pace. She has to shake off another climax from his expression alone. His eyes are desperate. She swore she could read every dirty thought on his face. She so badly wanted her to enjoy this and it was so evident just by the way his fingers wouldn’t leave her clit. Desperate to make her cum. She can’t help but to steal another kiss because of it.

He angles his hips and her head lulls back into his arm, her eyes rolling up into the ceiling. He was brushing up against that spot again and her volume control went out of the window. The pleads spill out of her endlessly, calling out for something she couldn’t put into words.

“ Right there?”

She nods frantically. “YESyesyesrightthere”, she groans. He leans down to the side of her breast and presses his mouth against her nipple. One of her hands tangles against the duvet and the other scratches the side of his chiseled stomach. The way his hips roll into her should be a crime. His precision— unmatched. When his mouth pops off her flesh she reaches back and feels his hair. He leans closer, pressing his mouth against her ear. A sweet torture, a whisper from his mouth only to her own ears.

“ Is that what you want?”, he grunts.

“ Yes I need it. I need it”, she moans drunkenly. Her brows furrow, mouth biting for the skin of her own lip. The hand under her leg abandons it for her neck. She keeps her leg thrown over his own. She’s wide open to the room. When his hand clasps around her neck, her head falls directly on his arm giving her a full view of his face. A natural surrender. She can’t help the smile that creeps up in between shouts of ecstasy. There’s no pressure in his hand. It just means something. She never felt the desire to be owned or found the appeal. But To be coveted. To trust enough. To admit the defeat of her own walls and hangups. To even allow to let his hand to stay there. To not want him to pull it away. He catches the glint in her eye and a wicked grin spreads across his mouth.

The speed of his thrusts increase and that earns him a nice squeak of surprise on her end. The hand around her neck trails to her jaw. He was especially deep now, so deep she could hardly take a full breath. His eyes darkened as he pressed his fat thumb past her swollen lips and pressed down on her tongue. Her mouth closed around his flesh like it fed her oxygen. A guttural, brutish sound left his mouth at the sight. She could see his jaw clench. A sigh of avidity flows from him. Her eyes rolls back as the climax sweeps her. “ You beautiful creature, my desires incarnate”, he seethes into her mouth. Her tongue slips into his. She tastes the brandy on his tongue and it surges the kiss deeper.

Still, he doesn’t eaves her no time to recuperate as he turns her onto her stomach. His hands find her ass and squeeze. His chest to her back, her head to the mattress, his mouth just above her ear. He feels entirely different inside of her from this angle. He feels wider, endless. She moans his name as inches in.

With the buffer between her ass and his stomach, depth and pace could be more forgiving. However, the angle was even more precise. The tip of his cock dragged against that spot in the most toe curling fashion. He was practically poking it with the way he angled himself into her. He barely pulls out as he rocks into her. Her eyes cross behind her closed lids.

The feeling is so intense, her hands shoot above her head, reaching out for something. His palms come down over the back of hers, holding them flat to the mattress. It feels like he’s molding himself to her like a second skin. He guides her hands underneath her chest, cocooning himself over her body as he gains momentum. The sound of skin slapping echoes across the room, blending with each gasp from her mouth, timed perfectly.

“ You’re sooooo deep”, she grunts against the mattress, muffled and all.

“ You want some out ?”

“ I don’t fucking know—-oh my godddd”, she whines and sputters and twists as he rocks into her. She likes the weight of him against her. She likes the feeling of his heart beat on her back as he ruts into her, grunting his praises. The slickness of their bodies against each other. Grunting his appreciation.

But the sensitivity grows and blooms deep in her stomach. Every sensory combines and jumbles into a looming monstrous feeling.

“ Is it broken?” He taunts.

“ No!”, she shouts.

“ but I thought you said it doesn’t work?”, his thrusts turn to daggers. An attempt at compliance that she gave freely. Rubbing her words in her face.

“ It worksitworksss”, she screeches. His words only riling her up. Only making this deliciously more underable. And those shouts she tried so hard to control finally rolled into screame.

It was sobering to realize just how easily he could reduce her to a screaming, squirming, crying, whining, shell of herself. How easily he could control her body and play it with such precision. He had broken her down into bits, put her together, pulled her apart and washed her away with pleasure. It was scary to know the sheer power of his hands, his mouth, his body —and know that he actively chose to only inflict pleasure with them.

On this very night she was ruined. It could only be him. Now her mind was racing but not the way it was before. Nothing feels this good, nothing should feel this good. And every thought of him that pops up just adds to the pleasure. This is what she wanted for the rest of her days—gentleness, the whisper of sweet nothings, hearty breakfasts, warm beds that smell like him, cigar smoke, late nights, expensive wines, non judgemental ears and mind bending pleasure. In every fucking position. Missionary first and whatever this is second.

“ YES…. YES PLEASE ROMAN. PLEASEEE!!”, she bellowed from her stomach. She spat the words from her mouth like they were poisonous. Like the last words of a drowning person. Deep in her gut she felt the wraith of his passion. A transformative love that grabbed her soul and wrung it dry. Was it pleasure or torture? Could pleasure be torture? Was it natural to feel so much at once —to be loved to the point of insanity ? Because she already came and he was still going. Not even a shudder from his lips or a falter in his hips when she met her climax.

“ ITS SO MUCH!”, she yells .She’s soaked herself and him completely. A new wave of arousal making it’s appearance heard loud and clear. She didn’t think it possible to be aroused so heavily. To be throbbing with pleasure and still want more. To be so unraveled.

She wonders if she has the same effect. His mouth hung open just above the side of her face, brows furrowed, grunting with each thrust. And there was no shame, he didn’t hide his pleasure. His face broke up in the way hers did and her heart sang. She felt the firmness of his muscles on her back and ass, the sweat of him seeping onto her skin, the strength of his arm encompassing her, the powder of his hips. He was perfect…absolutely perfect.

“ Do you feel it my love ?I kept my promise.”

“ FUCKK”, she screeches, voice cracking from the exertion of release after release.

“ I know. I know.”, he whispers. And her emotions meet a peak. Should she be embarrassed to cry? Because she was about to. Howling, sighing, reasoning, praising him. In awe of his beauty, of his strength, of his love.

He was killing something inside of her. Something rotten that had taken root and burrowed itself deep within her being. In the fibers, tissues, blood, and bone of her existence. A spoiled bit that inflicted her mind with fear, desperation, sorrow. It had convinced her she would never be loved. That she would never know pleasure. That she would be left unsated, unhappy and unwanted. That she was nothing. He dug for that bit, seized it, squeezed it, and obliterated it with every swell of pleasure that left her trembling. He washed it away with whispers of ‘I love you’ and ‘you’re beautiful’. As he leaned over her, their eyes connected as her head turns. To hold his gaze only resulted in another wave of gut wrenching ecstasy.

I will take your darkness and turn it sweet. This I vow to you.

She remembers. She remembers those words. And Should could feel the orgasm building from her toes all the way to the nerves under her fucking teeth. “Roman….”, she pleads.

“ Give it to me.”

“It’s so much”, she warned weakly. Slightly afraid from the strength of the release she was harboring. A load too big to carry on her own.

“ I have you.” Roman liked to watch her fall apart. To deploy into the madness of climax. He liked the grit of an orgasm. Not being able to control the eyes or the face. The contortion of the body. Seeing the most primal, stripped down, raw version of someone. She could hardly catch her breath. There was tightness in her chest like she had been running. One of his hands slipped down between herself and the mattress to reach her mound. With just a few swift and firm circles against her clit , she was bursting at the seams.

She came so hard she burst into a hiccup of tears, shaking against the wrath of her orgasm like a leaf in the wind. Her ears rang, white washes over her vision like the sun came out in the middle of the bedroom. He kept his face pressed to hers. He pulled out every bit of her orgasm and rode her wave until the very end. When she finally relaxed into the mattress, nerves shot to hell, he allowed his climax. When he fills her up he shouts. He grinds until he’s twitching—his body yielding him to stop. He trembled as he pulled away.

She turns onto her back and he falls on top of her, careful not to crush her— though she doesn’t mind. They pant out into the room as they catch their breaths. He leans to wipe her face with the back of his hand.

With a voice raspy from the screaming she clears her throat…the first to break the ice. “ Yes again, to the marriage thing by the way.”

If this would be marriage. She could get used to this.

Roman Pov

The next few days were spent giving Jane many more firsts. They went horseback riding and hunting. He sat and watched Arnaud teach her Croquet. Jane was pretty good and became competitive over time. They played card games, went sightseeing and even attended Ballets.

The trip extended itself due to Charlotte wanting to help plan the wedding. In the Palais Royal, a few hundred meters from the property, sat its own chapel. It was an old building, but it was beautiful and surprisingly small compared to the rest of the estate. Jane had expressed numerous times that she wanted to get married soon, surrounded by the friends she’d made along the way. No extravagance, no dramatic entrances, no showboating. Roman obliged without any issue whatsoever. So as he stood at the altar in front of the minister, he wondered if this was enough—if the simplicity of this would be enough for her to remember fondly. Eloise wore a white poofy dress with shiny tap shoes, throwing white flowers down the aisle. She was hopping and skipping, eventually throwing the flowers on guests by accident, of course. Caden was the ring bearer, with much persuasion and bribes on his part.

When he saw her appear at the entrance of the chapel with Earl beside her, all doubt was washed away. Here Jane was in a simple white slip gown, hair down, holding a bouquet of white chrysanthemums that Eloise had picked for her in the garden.

She’d been crying, he could tell. But her smile was radiant. It was probably nerves—the same nerves he’d been feeling the night before and just moments prior. The hairstylist Mary, stylist Guston, Beatrice, Charlotte, and Arnaud were welcomed guests. Rory, Adhar, Cortez, and a dozen other pirates filled the rest of the seats. It was quite a sight seeing the filthy men cleaned up in fancy clothes for the event. It only made sense for Dr. Earl to walk her down the aisle. He cleaned her wounds, nursed her to health, and looked after her in her weakest moments. He’d taken care of everyone on that ship at one moment or another. In some strange way, he was a father to many. His quiet knowledge had been a lifeline at times.

When he took her hand in his as they exchanged vows, he looked deeply into her twinkling eyes. He could see their whole future in them. She’d never looked more beautiful than she did right now. Her thumb swept over the back of his hand when she spoke. He wished he could remember all that was said, but all he could focus on was how beautiful she was and how lucky he was. He stole kisses when he wasn’t supposed to, long before the minister could pronounce them husband and wife.

The reception was held in the orangery, filled with tables, food, cakes, and flowers. He struggled to pull away after the first dance, holding her in his arms, looking into her eyes, whispering things that made her laugh. He lost track of time.

Caden danced with Eloise, twirling her around as she squealed with joy. Rory asked Jane to dance, and she obliged. Adhar raided the dessert bar. Cortez had an intense conversation with Arnaud about his travels east. Charlotte and Earl spoke in German, and it seemed like a comfort for her to finally communicate that way, considering that her mother was German-born. Beatrice, Mary, and Guston enjoyed a drink. Roman was okay with just watching—just taking in all the amazing people he’d come to know. Jane and him had a community that was budding and growing. Now it was only a matter of time before they could give that community it’s own name.

On the high of post-marital bliss, the lordship announcement came late at night at the end of the week. A semi-vacant estate had been cleaned, prepared, and was being filled with help. It was located in the French countryside, overlooking a cliff leading down to the beach.

And after another extended week of waiting, the time finally came. Roman decided it would be better if they arrived first. Everyone else could come later, but this experience would be shared between the two of them first. Jane obliged, and they set out on a three-hour carriage ride with their belongings.

The French countryside alpes maritime offered greenery, peaks and valleys, cobblestone markets, and flower fields. It was comforting and quiet as they inched closer to the property. Jane was anxious, so he held her hand in his as they watched the scenery. A mile from their property, they approached green pastures that expanded for acres. Trees, flower fields, and fresh air with subtle hints of salt characterized the area.

The building itself was Georgian style, with a light brown brick surrounding the entirety of the home. It was characterized by its warm, buttery yellow façade, complemented by crisp white trim around the windows and doors. The exterior had a smooth finish, giving it a refined yet welcoming appearance. The roof featured dark slate tiles, contrasting beautifully with the lighter tones of the walls.

Pebbles rumbled and scratched against the wheels of the carriage as they came to a halt. Fifteen servants stood at the stairs. Tall, multi-paned windows allowed abundant light into the interior, framed by decorative white shutters. The entrance boasted a grand door, framed by a small portico supported by slender columns, creating a stately focal point.

The estate was set amidst lush, landscaped gardens that enhanced its beauty. The grounds were meticulously maintained, with vibrant flower beds filled with seasonal blooms, neatly trimmed hedges, and a variety of trees providing shade and privacy. A winding gravel path led up to the entrance, flanked by ornamental shrubs and colorful blossoms.

Two primary servants, a male and a female, stood to the left of the property. The pair seemed to be the head footman and the head housemaid. They greeted the couple, referring to Roman as Lord Ramlal and Jane as Lady Ramlal. Jane squeezed his hand as they approached the steps.

The interior featured high ceilings adorned with intricate cornices and decorative plasterwork, typical of Regency design. Large windows allow natural light to flood the spaces, framed by heavy drapes in rich fabrics that added warmth and texture. The color palette was warm and inviting, with soft creams, muted greens, and touches of gold. Floral-patterned wallpaper in the drawing room featured delicate designs that added a touch of refinement without overwhelming the senses. The dining room sported a richer hue, a deep navy, complemented by gilded accents.

There were two wings of the home, which housed additional bedrooms and private spaces. A staggering 9 bedrooms, each thoughtfully decorated to provide a unique yet cohesive aesthetic, along with eight well-appointed bathrooms featuring elegant fixtures that combined functionality and style. There was also a library and a study, serving as quiet retreats for reading or work.

The floors throughout the estate were a mix of polished hardwood. In common areas, rich rugs defined seating arrangements and added a layer of comfort, while the staircase featured a beautifully crafted wooden banister that was both sturdy and ornate.

The furniture was a tasteful mix of Regency-era pieces and more contemporary selections. Plush sofas and armchairs, upholstered in luxurious fabrics, invited relaxation, while mahogany tables and sideboards showcased intricate craftsmanship. Decorative accents, such as vases and paintings, added character to the rooms. The house felt lived in.

There were drawing rooms, two dining rooms—one for guests and one for more intimate parties—a small dancing room, servants' quarters, and multiple kitchens for staff and the family. It was almost too much to take in. Jane looked overwhelmed, and Roman was absorbing the information from the head maid.

When they were left to their own devices inside the piano room, the silence was deafening. This was it—the real beginning of their story—a long one he hoped. This house would soon fill with countless memories, its own smell, and the sound of happiness. They would bring her own touch to it.

Their respective wedding guests all piled into carriages to visit the property. The sound of their voices was nothing short of echoes of support and excitement. Caden chose his bedroom like an excited small child. While still wanting to be a pirate so badly, he promised to come and visit often. Being so young, he was still figuring things out. There would always be a home for him if he changed his mind.

Later in the day, they toured the town. It was practically barren, waiting to be filled with the lives of more residents. About twenty people lived there now, and most of them were from humble means. Roman introduced himself as he passed them. Jane, being a bit more shy, stayed behind in the carriage and waved. In his words, he promised to bring life back to the town—more jobs, better food. In the coming weeks, he had his work cut out for him.

But perhaps the best part of the entire estate was that just 800 meters from the back of the house sat a cliff overlooking the ocean. Stone steps lead down to the pebbled shore—a perfect spot for his crew to stop and visit.

The boat that carried them from the dragon's mouth sat in the distance. Roman and Jane walked down the steps followed by Ahdar, Cortez, Rory, and Caden. The rest of the crew waved from from the sides of the ship in the distance.

“It’s blue! They painted it blue!?”, Jane gasped.

A whoosh of salty wind burned their cheeks as they watched Jane. She got closer to the ship. At the front of the boat was a blue-carved figurehead—a mermaid. Jane squinted as her bare feet sloshed through the pebbled water. She looked up at the ship, and then her eyes widened. In her image—her face—was carved into the mermaid.

“’T’was Roman’s idea if you hate it,” Adhar blurted.

Jane was in shock, her mouth hanging open as she stared up at the giant statue of herself. Then her hands found her mouth, and her eyes teared up.

“It’s good luck—a mermaid in your likeness to bring us luck and protect us. She even wears your talisman around her neck. See?” Rory pointed at the mermaid's necklace. There it was—somehow carved in and bolted into the statue was her talisman. A huge smile spread across her face. She gushed about how much she loved it.

On the side of the ship, a blue Bakunawa was carved, chasing a fish. The god itself—a representation of the trials they’d all been through. Through its mercy, they all lived another day. Officially called the Blue Bakunawa, it would sail the seas as the largest pirate vessel ever—a giant among ants. Blessed by Lady Jane Ramlal. The Lady of Ramlal Manor. Lady Jane, of the Blue Bakunawa. The best thing that had ever happened to anyone aboard the Black Jewel. Imprinted on the black hearts of many pirates.

The goodbyes were teary. Jane didn’t want Caden to go. He unexpectedly got teary, too. Roman surprised him at the last minute by executing one of his final authorities as captain to appoint him an official crew member. Caden was a pirate. The young boy screamed with joy. His crewmates cheered.

The sun hid itself behind the horizon, going to sleep once more. It was getting late now. Roman took his pirate hat from his head and gently placed it on Adhar. For a moment, the young man did not register. And then he did.

Constant echoes of ‘Really, Captain?!’and ‘Are you sure, Captain?’ fell from his mouth. Fear and excitement clashed.

“You’ve served me well. I hope you find that girl in your journey east. I wish you all the luck. And when you get her back, bring her back here. We would love to meet her,” Roman chuckled. Adhar, still in shock, looked nothing short of a child as he nodded with exaggeration.

Rory picked Jane up and spun her around, as always. Sentimentally, he touched foreheads with Roman—a silent goodbye to two partners. Rory was his right hand, the man who did the hard jobs. A trusted friend.

Cortez and Adhar’s farewells were also surprisingly teary. Roman teased them for it. But then Jane lost it when Adhar hugged her. Understandably, this was hard. Adhar was yet another friend she’d come to know. He taught her sword fighting. They talked about London on numerous occasions and kept her company.

“I’m going to miss you. Write to me,” she sniffled.

“I will. I’ll be back soon, I promise. This time next year we’ll all come back. I’ll even drag William with me if I have to,” Adhar smile.

Roman grinned. “Thank you for all you’ve done for me and for her. You’ll make a great captain.” Adhar clapped a hand over Roman’s shoulder in appreciation.

Roman went on to thank Cortez for being such a fantastic helmsman. He steered the ship with iron hands and a remarkable knowledge of the sea and the monsters they faced. He was valued beyond measure. He got them back in one piece.

“A’right you mangy mutts. New change of plans. You’ll answer to Adhar now. I expect your presence at my dinner table in one year’s time. I order you lot to stay alive until then. Is that clear, you scallywags?!”

“Aye, aye, Captain!” the crew replied in unison. Their stances were rigid as they gave him a pirate salute—the swing of a palm towards the forehead. A final sign of respect.

Hundreds of hands and hats wagged and waved on the side of the Blue Bakunawa as the ship set sail once more. Roman and Jane waved their goodbyes as they watched their friends become smaller, and smaller, and smaller...and smaller.

“And then there were two,” Jane sniffled. She looked up at her husband with joyful, teary eyes, parting ways with the life of a pirate—a crew that had saved her long enough for her to find herself again.

“Two indeed. We have work to do, darling,” Roman quipped, giving her a swift kiss.

“You know what?”

“Mmm?”

“I think I know what my final wish will be,” she urged.

His eyebrows raised in surprise as he looked down at her determined face. “What is it?”

She sighed. “You said to use the wish on myself, but this is something I want. I want this now more than ever.”

“Okay...” he replied, waiting patiently. Her eyes closed as she leaned back into his chest.

“Uh... Dragon?” she called out.

A few moments later, a thunderous and regal voice responded. “What, child?”

“I’m ready to give you my last wish,” Jane blurted.

“...Go on,” said the dragon.

“I wish for our town—the town that Roman and I will build—to be a sanctuary for all misfits. For every ‘other.’ For every unprotected, unrepresented, undervalued person. A town that will share a real community. A town that does not steal from one another. A town that protects its women and children. A town of men with compassion and honor. A town with resources. Nobody will be needy. No one will want for anything. A town that is protected from hatred, prejudice, and disdain. Let this town grow in number and let us have enough housing to accommodate everyone. Let it attract those with open hearts. Allow this town to be a safe haven for all who may seek it. Grant good health to all those who live in this town. And most of all—let there be no evil force strong enough to penetrate it. Let this town be self-sustainable, resilient, and content,” she said.

When the dragon did not answer, she wondered if she had botched her wish. Roman could since her becoming nervous. She wanted quite a few things—surely it couldn’t count as one wish. Could it?

“It is done... goodbye,” said the ominous voice. It echoed and trickled away in the wind, just as Jane’s wish did. Now all that was left to do was watch it come to fruition.

Jane POV

Six months into building their town, Jane had realized a few things. She loved being a wife. She loved the flowers at the end of the week. She loved the candlelit dinners. She loved the authority; people called her Lady Jane or Seigneuress Ramlal. She loved wearing her ring on her finger. She loved the fact that Roman carried her last name. She loved it all.

She loved carpentry. Roman had built a wheat mill with his bare hands, along with the help of 20 other men. She had no idea that he had a background in carpentry and construction. He taught her the basics, allowing her to help along the way.

She fucking loved sex. She loved it so much it usually crossed her mind at least once a day. It was kind of ridiculous. Roman certainly didn’t mind. Her needs were met almost always on demand. It had become well known that all servants were to stay on their wing after 11 o’clock at night.

And last, she loved the friendships she was building. Not just any friendships—girl friendships! Mary was a frequent visitor, along with Charlotte. Three girls, cut from the same cloth, living a life they could be proud of. She never realized just how much they had in common, sharing stories by the fireplace over a bottle of wine, going on long walks on the estate until Ramlal Manor was the size of a dot, and sitting in the grass watching the horses graze. She had never felt the warmth of female friendship until now. Sure she had friends back in London but everybody had to work. There was no time to really bond. Now, She could talk about anything—no judgment. She told stories in detail, stories that would be far too painful for Roman to hear. They did the same, sharing memories—good and bad. There was no shame, only laughter and "me too's." It was comforting and recharging. She loved friendship.

People were coming to the town in droves. More buildings were being bult: farms, businesses, houses, apartments, theaters, taverns and more. The economy was growing and bursting. People needed jobs, and there were plenty to go around.

With much contemplation, she started writing to Aunt Jillian in Westminster, England. Jillian was one of the few relatives she had left. Most of her family in the islands had passed away. They exchanged letters over the span of four months. She wrote about Roman and how they met. She told the story of their love and the people she had come to know. She mentioned nothing of the dragons, monsters, or mysterious island. For now, it was all just "inheritance." She sent a sizable amount of money and planned to visit her family in the next few weeks to discuss relocating to a separate guest property on the estate. It was a relationship she was afraid to pursue, but Roman encouraged it when she brought it up over dinner. Jillian expressed how proud she was of her niece and was saddened that she hadn’t reached out sooner—a reminder to how one’s own suffering can cut them off from the world.

Money had the power to fuel generosity. Now, Jane could help people in ways that she couldn’t before. She couldn’t deny that it was somewhat self-serving; every donation felt like it healed something inside her. She thought back to all the times she wished someone would have come to her aid, all those nights she spent hungry, wondering if things would ever get better. She could be that glimmer of hope for someone.

She started sending money and letters to her old roommates in London with whom she had shared an apartment. It took weeks for them to respond out of skepticism. When they finally wrote back, they were convinced it was some scam and started asking her questions that only the "real Jane" could answer. She responded with precision. The next letter detailed their surprise and shock; they thought she was dead. A few days later, the eight of them were reunited as she convinced them to possibly move to her budding town. They all agreed to make the transition.

Roman had his own hobbies. He loved hunting with Arnaud and his gentleman friends. He enjoyed communing with his town members and made friends with the hardworking men at the mill. He loved reading in his office though Jane loved to interrupt him so that he could fulfill his “husbandly duties”. Roman tried his hand at growing his own tobacco to pair with his pipe collection, and it was a success; he raved about it all day long. Things were coming together well. They grew just as much as individuals as they would together.

While they sat in their dining room, Jane looked up at the portrait that Arnaud had painted of them. She loved it and often stopped to admire it as she passed through the house. As her fork pushed around her dinner, Roman noticed her distracted demeanor. “What’s on your mind? Does the food displease you?”

“No—no. It’s great. I’m just not as hungry.”

“What’s wrong?”

Jane paused for a moment. Was this really a good time? As understanding as he was, sometimes men got weird about these topics. He hadn’t brought it up, so she was taking a leap. “People around town have been asking me when I’m going to have a baby,” she blurted.

Roman paused mid-chew as he studied her face, a mix of light concern and surprise. She wanted to sink back into her seat. “Has this upset you? Who was it? I will have a talk with the—”

“No, no. I’m not upset at all. Besides, you know how middle-aged women can be sometimes. It’s natural for them to ask”, Jane insists.

“It does not have to be natural if you do not wish it,” he explained.

“I know—I understand. I think our life feels pretty full with just the two of us. I’m fulfilled. I’m happy with you all to myself. However, Eloise has changed my mind on a lot of things. She is very loved. I worry that my past would inhibit me from being a good mother.”

“I think if you care so deeply about being a good mother, then that’s usually a good indicator that you would indeed be a good mother,” Roman chuckled. Jane smiled.

“Well... what do you think? Should we?”

“I’m okay if we do. I’m okay if we don’t. After finding you, I feel no need to push my luck. If the innocence of a child is bestowed upon us, I will be most thankful for the privilege.”

“I think we should enjoy each other a bit longer. Maybe I’m selfish, but we’re due a few more years of just being husband and wife. Maybe it’s not in the cards. We’ve had a few accidents,” she shrugged.

“Is it an accident if you beg for it?” Roman scoffed. Jane laughed; he certainly had a point.

“Well… if it was going to happen, it would have happened by now.”

“You and I both know that a few accidents do not guarantee pregnancy. It takes consistency. If we really tried, it would be a everyday all day affair. The whole thing is very meticulous.”

“Have you not been meticulous?” she smirked.

“Negative. I can show you meticulous,” he warned. She shook her head playfully.

“How do you know all this anyway?” Jane squinted.

“I have plenty of fathers for friends. They give me unwarranted advice too. It’s not just you,” he snorted.

“I’m sorry to hear that.”

Roman pulled her chair closer to his. “Whatever future is ahead of us is a future fulfilled. I could ask for no more. I am incredibly lucky to have you.”

“And I you. I won’t push my luck. If it happens, it happens. If not, there is no loss. When we’re really ready, we will know,” she hummed.

“No loss whatsoever,” he agreed, placing a kiss on her temple.

A tap at the window alerted them. The two fell quiet, waiting for the sound again. Two more taps, and they stood up from the table. Roman walked over to the window and opened it. Jane followed closely behind as a cold draft wafted into the room. A tiny fluttering hoot called from the darkness, and the patter of tiny feet slapped against the balcony railing.

The hoot of two doves perched on the balcony called for their attention. They walked into the light, eyeing the couple.

Jane swooned. “Aww, what on earth are two doves doing all the way out here? Isn’t this a bit too close to the sea?”

“You know, I asked myself the same thing once, but then something really amazing happened,” Roman grinned.

“Let’s not question it then,” Jane smiled warmly.

The End.

Authors note: Well, there ya have it ! I would like to take this time to thank @sortudademais @2-muchsauce @joannasteez @thesamoanqueen @harmshake @fuffduff and many more for being so kind and making my writing experience such a pleasurable journey on this app. If you’ve sent me a kind message or interacted with this story, I Thankyou from the bottom of my heart. I cared so much about these characters. I hope I’ve done them justice.

Epilogue may be pending if I have something else to say but for the most part every end has been tied up. My next work in progress will feature Jey USO and it will be a surfer story so stay tuned for that. Thank you for reading. Reblogs always help but most importantly, tell me what you thought of the story if you’d like. It really makes writing all the more worth it. Bye for now! ❤️

[thebadjoe]

BAD JOE'S DRDT CH.2 CRIME SOLVING THEORY PART 6

Wow! It's been a long while, but it's finally here! DRDT Chapter 2 is back with part 2 starting since more than a week ago!

...Oh? What's that? There's some reveals that is damaging my theory and I should get to fixing? Awwww, man.... what a drag.... I am so doomed... nanchatte!

Anyways, hi! It's me, the dude who makes-overly-complex-and-ridiculously-long-theories-in-the-hopes-of-trying-to-solve-the-murder-case-that-not-many-people-agree-with-for-more-reasons-than-my-theory's-word-count. (Okay, the last part about the reasons is probably not true... yet!)

I am back yet again with some more updates regarding my theory.

NOOOOO!!! NOT AGAIN!!! PLEASE, I DON'T WANNA READ ANOTHER GODDAMN DICTIONARY LENGTH OF A THEORY POST!!!!

Woah! Calm down, imaginary self that is under the impression that some people were way too overwhelmed by my latest part of the theory post! You have nothing to worry about!

It would be silly of me to rewrite all of it again with some small changes. I will of course link up my part 5 later as source of reference, but really, all I'm gonna be doing here today is point out the newest problems with my theory ever since episode 12 and 13 and give my personal thoughts on those.

Also, to make sure that people hasn't forgotten what I've been all about since the beginning, I will do a short recap of my theory, displaying only what's most relevant to the murder case.

Besides, ain't no way I'm writing something this long ever again (except for maybe trying to solve the future chapters, but that's a matter for the far future).

With that said, I feel obliged to point out that this is spoilers for the fangan Danganronpa Despair Time Chapter 2, up until episode 13.

With that out of the way, let's get to it!

Hey look! I still remember how to use that show more button again, hurray! (I'm really sorry again to @1moreff-creator and everyone else who's been reading my very first posts last year that didn't have a show more button)

So, first things first, I'd like to apologize in advance because as amazing the episode 12 and 13 were, I will not be doing a reaction post of said episodes. I think I'm just too lazy to actually display my whole stream of consciousness through two whole videos and I think it is safe to say that practically all of us had a very similar reaction to those episodes.

What was the common reaction, you may ask? Well, it's simple, really... it went something like... OMG, THIS IS SO FUCKING HYPE! OMG!!! THAT WAS SO INSANE!!! THE DRAMA!!! DAVID BEING DAVID!!! THE LEVI REVEAL!!! THE FLASHBACK PART 2 SCENE!!! OMG, WHAT IS EDEN DOING?!! AREI IS HOLDING DAVID'S HANDS?! WE'RE FINALLY TALKING ABOUT THE MURDER METHODS?!?! OMG, SO GOOD!!!

...right? Yeah! I thought so! :D

Although I may not be showing proper and precise reactions to these episodes, if you're interested, I'd definitly recommend reading @venus-is-thinking 's, reactions on episode 12 and episode 13, @1moreff-creator 's reactions on episode 12 and episode 13 and @accirax 's reactions on episode 12 and episode 13. They're pretty good reads (and no, I'm not just saying this because they all believe that Eden is the culprit, I swear!).

And for those who are totally blind or new to my shenanigans, yes, I do believe that Eden is the culprit behind this murder case.

There is indeed a few problems that arose ever since the latest episodes, so to make sure that everyone is up to speed with what I'm gonna be talking about, I'm now going to be doing a short recap of the events, according to me.

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THE RECAP

DAY 1 : The day where everyone receives their mixed up secrets and explore the second floor. DAY 2 : The day where the attempted murder on Ace happened. DAY 3 : The day where Whit suggests David to chill for the evening in the relaxation room. DAY 4 : The day (morning) of the body discovery announcement.

Ever since Arei bullied Eden who then cried and exited the playground on DAY 2, that was what triggered Eden to decide to commit murder for the sake of escaping this hellish killing game. Knowing that her secret is that she kissed a girl, I deduced that she's probably trying to escape because she misses her beloved dearly.

So while she was off screen during most of that day, she spent time making plans for the murder set up and narrative, which is why she decided to share Arturo's secret (as seen in the flashback).

During the evening of DAY 2, Ace was working out in the gym, then he hears a conversation happening between David and Arei in the relax room. The conversation that Ace was quietly listening to did not happen in the evening of DAY 3, but rather the evening of DAY 2. Ace lied about when he was listening to that conversation.

At some point during the conversation or perhaps even after the conversation, Eden sneaks up on Ace and knocks him out with the turpentine that anyone could've gotten access to that day. Ace is Eden's chosen murder victim.

Sometime later, Eden eitheir used a letter or called out Arei's name to lure her into the playground or somewhere close to knock her unconscious with that very same turpentine. She then moves Arei's body into the relaxation room to lock her up inside because of the specific nighttime rules regarding that room.

Eden also brought old spares of clothing to cover Arei's body to make sure she doesn't get stained with starch from the water misting formula from the relaxation room.

During the night of DAY 2, she prepares the murder mechanism in the gym with some needed tools from the storage room and some wire that she took out from possibly a grandfather clock that she may have in her dorm. I deduced it as such because of Whit's description of everyone's dorms being suited to their needs.

I also deduced that there is actually a switch to turn on and off the fans, which is important since the attempted murder involved the fans. As Eden finished setting it up, as she was about to clear up with evidence, she heard someone using the elevator.

She hid in the dress up room, then Nico enters the second floor, looking for Ace to kill him. As Nico explores the gym, Teruko shortly enters the elevator to get to the second floor as well.

Teruko, looking for her spares, runs into Eden, who was hidden in the dress up room. After some talk, they heard a loud noise coming from the gym, which they both take a look inside.

Upon seeing this mess of a crime, Eden realised that her murder plan failed and that she needs to come up with a plan B really quick. So while she is taking time to "process this emotionally", Teruko was investigating.

Eden finally comes up with a plan B and figured that she needed to get her hands on the roll of tape ASAP. She managed to do so with a sleight of hand when Ace "suddenly wakes up", knocking Eden out of the way, distracting Teruko in the process.

Later that night, Eden proceeds with her plan B by making a murder mechanism in the playground. She also took the rope from the storage room. Once it's all properly set up, all's left was waiting for the relaxation to unlock at 8:00 AM on DAY 3.

In the morning of DAY 3, she retrieves Arei's unconscious body and proceeds with murdering Arei. Then, she proceeds to conceal the body somewhat behind the curtains in the relaxation room. She also grabs her glove, her monopad and the necessary materials in the dress up room for the next step of her plan.

She spends the rest of the morning to prepare her disguise trick. Then during lunchtime, Eden spends a short amount of time disguised as Arei to hide the actual time of death.

Once lunchtime is over, she returns to eitheir her or Arei's dorm to remove the disguise, spend time cleaning up, relax, power nap, etc. Then, during the evening of DAY 3, she spends time with Hu to fabricate her perfect alibi.

Later that evening, David explores the relaxation room. That's when he notices something wrong with the room and becomes the first person to discover Arei's dead body.

For some personal reasons, David brings the body back into the playground and hangs it by the swingset. Eitheir he or Eden (earlier in the morning) balls up the clothes and hides it in the closet of the dress-up room. Then, in the morning of DAY 4, David grabs everyone's attention to the fact that Arei is missing right before the secrets reveal. Then fast forward a bit, then we get the BDA of Arei

--------------------------------------------------------------------

And there ya go, that's my recap regarding how I believe the murder case happened. Pretty short, eh?

HELL NO!!! THAT WAS STILL PRETTY LONG!!! AHHHHH!!!!

Eh... I guess I couldn't really make it that shorter, my bad! If I tried to make it any shorter than that, it would've been extremely confusing.

Ah! Speaking of which, if you're confused in the sense that it feels like none of this should work at all, and there's a lot of contradictions and whatnot, then I would heavily recommend reading my actual theory post. I am not going to spend time refuting with people in the comments about points I've already pointed out in my previous post.

However, if there are things that are unclear to you, things that you do not understand and want to know what I'm talking about, please, feel free to ask away! I will help in any way I can.

With that out the way, I guess I can now start with pointing out the pr-

HAH! THERE IS A MAJOR ISSUE WITH YOUR THEORY!!! BASED ON EPISODE 12, THE MURDER COULD'VE ONLY HAPPENED IN THE MORNING OF DAY 4 BECAUSE OF THE BODY SWING! YOU'RE DONE FOR!

Ah... yeah... that! Of course! That's not a problem!

!!!

Let's talk about it first, shall we? :D

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AREI'S BODY SWING : CONFIRMED TIME OF DEATH???

I'd like to come clean with something, everyone. Ever since I came up with the theory that murder happened at a totally unexpected time, there was something that was constantly bothering me.

That's right, I was very well aware of the body swing happening during the BDA ever since the beginning.

HUH?! Then all this time, you wrote all of this despite knowing that?!

Correct! I'm really sorry about that, but please, understand that I had a very good reason for it. For you see... everytime I saw it, I was often under the impression that this was simply an eerie effect / animation, to give a more dramatic intensity towards the BDA, without meaning anything. I legit thought it could be a thing, I swear!

But despite all that... I couldn't help but feel uneasy about it. Deep down, I felt like that maybe there was an actual meaning to it, maybe it was an actual clue that I shouldn't disregard. But I figured that because of my theory beliefs, then it would be rather unlikely that it would be used as evidence.

But alas, I was wrong about that. The body swing plays a very important rule in determining what happened in this murder case. I cannot deny that fact, especially since Teruko brought it up, plain as day. Despite it seeming like it damages my theory, I'm thankful that the dev finally cleared that little doubt I had since then.

Then you admit it, the murder actually happened in the mor-

Oh, not so fast! Let's not jump to conclusions just yet, alright? Arei's body swinging by the swing set doesn't quite exactly prove that the murder occured during the morning of DAY 4. The body swing only proves that someone messed with the body by the swingset.

W-What?! That doesn't make sense! The murder clearly happened in the morning of DAY 4!

Nuh-uh, not quite. You believe it clearly happened in the morning because that's what the cast concluded on top of Charles pointing out that the culprit could've clearly fake the time of death by saving the fishes for later.

But unless we have decisive evidence that the murder happened in the morning, we can't be 100% sure that the murder happened in the morning of DAY 4.

From the looks of it, you just seem very desperate, if you ask me.

At first, when episode 12 released, I kind of was... up until I figured out a fairly logical solution to it. That's right! I have a way to explain who made the body swing and why.

You're not going to suggest that David did all of what he supposedly did in the evening of DAY 3, but instead in the morning of DAY 4, right?!

Nope! Not at all. Disregarding the facts that it wouldn't really make sense and that he'd have to move the body out of the relax room anyways before nighttime (because of the water misting rules), David actually has an alibi in the morning of DAY 4.

(As does Veronika too as she was with them in the cafeteria)

With all of these reasons mentioned above, as much as I initially wanted to make it somehow possible that David came back to the crime scene to mess with the body somehow, it just isn't possible.

So instead, someone else did it.

Then out with it already, you staller! Who is it?!

There is only one possible candidate that would make the most sense in that scenario : Eden. Eden is the person who messed with Arei's body in the morning of DAY 4.

WHHAAAAT?!?! WHY WOULD SHE DO THAT?! THAT'S SO RISKY!

That's what I initially thought at first, not gonna lie. But then... something hit me : Eden doesn't have an alibi for the morning of DAY 4 eitheir.

I thought that there would be absolutely no need for Eden to come back to the crime scene a certain short amount of time before the BDA, so instead, I needed to reverse my way of thinking.

What could she possibly aim to do that would prompt her to come back to the crime scene last minute?

Considering the facts (based on my theory, mind you) that she killed Arei in the morning of DAY 3, hid the body somewhere in the relaxation room, built up an evening to night alibi with Hu and that David was the first person to discover it during the evening, there is a simple explanation behind it.

Arei's BDA was meant to be triggered much earlier than the morning of DAY 4. The original intent behind this whole scheme was to have the BDA trigger during the evening of DAY 3.

That doesn't make sense!

No, that's wrong! It does make a whole lot of sense. Think about it. Let's say you were a participant in this killing game and were in David's shoes during the evening of DAY 3... you come across a dead body in the relaxation, what would you do?

!!!

That's right, you wouldn't just mess with the body and move it somewhere else, now would you? Aside from freaking out, the most natural and human thing to do would be to gather help.

If it were anyone else than David who discovered the body in that exact scenario, they would cry out for help, tell everyone that they found Arei dead inside the relaxation room, which would then result in a body discovery announcement.

But what if the person who found the body were to personally ask for Hu's and Eden's help, wouldn't that ruin her plan since it wouldn't trigger the BDA?

There's an easy solution to that. Eden could've simply decided to find more people to share the news to meet up with the corpse. This wouldn't ruin her plan in the slightest.

Quite the opposite, actually. If the body were to be discovered and trigger the BDA during the evening, it would solidify her air tight alibi even further as she wouldn't have any possible timeframe to commit murder in the evening as she was spending time with her friend Hu.

Ugh, so what? It didn't really happen anyways because of David being David! That doesn't change anything!

Actually, it does change things considerably. If you put yourself in the culprit's perspective where the whole intent was to have the body discovery happen in the evening of DAY 3 and that during the whole night, nothing happened, you would certainly find that very strange.

The culprit would be clearly confused, yet really curious to find out what even happened.

Couldn't she have taken a look much later during the night?

Perhaps, but she figured it would've been pointless. The reason why is that if she thought that nobody found the body, then the body would've still remained hidden in the relaxation room which would then be currently locked away because of the water misting.

So instead of checking it out during the late night of DAY 3, Eden decided to investigate during the very early morning of DAY 4, sometime past 7:30 AM.

But the relaxation room is still locked up until 8:00 AM! Why not wait until then?

It's simple! She just wanted to be there a little bit in advance to make sure she can enter the room as early as possible. And so... while she is waiting for the relaxation room to unlock, she probably figured that she should take a look around the other rooms, why not?

And thus, that leads to Eden finding the body being hung by the swingset, alongside fishes scattered around the floor for some reason.

To reconfirm, I still believe that David is the first person who discovered Arei's dead body in the relaxation room and that he's responsible for hanging her body alongside placing those fishes by the playground.

Okay, Eden discovers that the body has been moved to the playground? What now? Everything's already in place, so what could she possibly do with the dead body?

Well, since the BDA was not triggered on the evening of DAY 3, she figured that she may as well put Arei's monopad back into the corpse's pockets.

But what about her missing glove? Why didn't she return that as well if she wanted to return her monopad?

That's a good point, that's for sure. But there are two easy fixes to this counter argument. First one being that she simply forgot about the gloves. No one's really perfect, after all. She was so concerned about the body not being discovered yet that this completly slipped her mind.

The second fix would be that it would've been way too risky to try to retrieve the glove. Maybe initially, Eden, after she removed her disguise, she placed the clothes and the glove back into Arei's dorm. So if she wanted to retrieve the glove, she'd have to return to Arei's room, unlocking it with a monopad that isn't her own.

Would she really risk that again after making this much progress without getting caught so far? Like imagine if she tried to take that risk one last time only to get caught, that would be quite the devastating result, wouldn't it?

Ok, fine. Nevermind the gloves. Is that all she did?

Pretty much, yeah. She returned the monopad back into her pockets, which moved the body somewhat.

...

Well, it's also possible that she tripped and moved the body even more by accident. Or perhaps she felt like she was in such a hurry to avoid getting found out that she accidently bumped into Arei's dead body.

...Are you kidding me? There's no way that's gonna be enough to move the body for this long!

Well... maybe her being there at exactly 7:30 AM is not the exact time. She could've been there a couple minutes before 8:00 AM, which could make this possible.

But that's ridiculous! There's no way Eden is strong enough to make the body swing that way. To make the body swing for a good amount of time, she'd need more than just accidently bumping into the body! It needs considerable force.

And I'll stop you there. If you've read my last theory post, you should know by now that I'm a firm believer that because it's a work of fiction, anything that seems unlikely can become possible.

The main thing we should take from Arei's body swinging during the BDA is that at some point in time during the morning, someone messed with the body, proving that someone was there during the morning of DAY 4.

And there you go, that's my whole explanation as to how Arei's body was swinging during the BDA that doesn't necessarily mean that the murder occured during that exact morning.

If you're not quite convinced yet, there is a certain part of my theory that begins to make a lot more logical sense with this solution in mind. Take a look at this!

Thanks to the solution I suggested, these two lines become a lot more fitting to my updated theory. Here's why!

If Eden were to explore and find the body hanging by the swing set during the morning of DAY 4, she would know that at least 1 person found the body, but not who exactly.

Because of Whit's silly comment, Eden immediatly thought of the body in the playground and jumped to the worst conclusion : Whit is the person who found the body first.

So if they were to open the door to the playground, the BDA would not trigger since Eden is the culprit. So in a moment of panic, Eden uttered : "Teruko, wait--".

It is still pretty much the same as what I had in mind according to the previous part of my theory post, except that it works a whole lot better now that Eden personally saw the actual state of the dead body in the morning of DAY 4.

So there you have it. This seemingly major problem for my theory actually turned out to be very beneficial for my theory after all! Ah, the joys of making logical sounding deductions! My theory should be saf-

HAH! YOU THINK YOUR THEORY IS SAFE FROM HARM YET?! WRONG!!!! IN EPISODE 13, THEY ACTUALLY SHOWED HOW THE MURDER MECHANISM WORKED! NOT ONLY IS EDEN TOO WEAK TO OPERATE IT, BUT THEY PUT FISH WATER INSIDE THOSE JUGS! SINCE THEY REVEALED THAT MURDER METHOD, IT HAS TO BE THE SOLUTION. YOUR THEORY IS RUINED! GOOD DAY SIR!

Oh, you mean this?

Oh no, this murder mechanism is different from mine and this one requires a certain amount of strength that Eden possibly doesn't have! And the fishes! Since they brought it up, then there's no way my theory can work! Whatever shall I do??? It's joever.... just kidding!

I don't mean to alarm you guys, but the current proposed murder mechanism idea actually has flaws. Let's talk some more about the murder mechanism in the playground, shall we? :)

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TERUKO'S CURRENT MURDER MECHANISM IDEA : RIGHT OR WRONG???

Before I get into it, I'd like to remind everyone that just because we've been shown how the murder may have been done for the first time means that's how it actually happened. Let's not forget that they spent so much time arguing and discussing about the secrets that they barely ever talked about the murder case in itself.

So if anything, episode 13 is practically just them beginning their actual work! Mistakes are bound to happen. We shouldn't jump to conclusions just yet. Besides, there is actually a problem with this murder mechanism.

I'll present it to you in pictures to show you what I'm talking about.

The taped up wrists. This was practically the decisive proof that this wasn't a suicide nor could it have been an assisted suicide. So now that they've introduced a murder mechanism in an actual episode... what's actually the point of the taped wrists in that scenario?

If the culprit used exactly this kind of murder mechanism, then there would be absolutely no need to tape up her wrists together.

Maybe it was to stop Arei from trying to struggle?

Nope. If that was the case, we would've seen much more signs of struggle coming from Arei. There may be scuffs on the ground, but there's absolutely no other form of injury on Arei aside from her broken neck.

Well, I saw a theory where the accomplice was Levi and he could've easily overpower her!

(I believe that was something that @1moreff-creator theorized, if I recall? At least, that was the theory pre part 2)

It used to be borderline possible, but not this time anymore! Thanks to the first two episodes of part 2 of chapter 2, it seems extremely unlikely that Levi wanted to work with the culprit as an accomplice.

Not only because of what we find out regarding his secret, what kind of character he is, but also because of something he said in episode 12.

I don't know about you, but this doesn't look like something an accomplice would say at all, right? If the culprit was someone who didn't have an alibi in the evening, it would be a different story, but the most fitting theory for having Levi work as an accomplice is to work for Eden, who happens to have an alibi in the evening as you already know.

So since we gotta take Levi out of the equation, then we don't really have much other possible candidates who could've easily overpower Arei to the point where taping up her wrists would've helped better on that regard.

Therefore, the most logical solution would be that Arei was knocked unconscious with the turpentine. But since that's the most likely scenario, then what's up with the taped wrists?

If the taped wrists weren't used to prevent any remote chance for Arei to try to get out of this situation, then it must've been used as part of the murder mechanism.

But since the murder mechanism as shown by Teruko doesn't explain the taped up wrists whatsoever, then this becomes a discrepancy. Therefore, that can't be quite the correct answer to solving the how this murder mechanism works.

And since this murder mechanism idea is flawed, it also means that there's no guarantee that the jugs contained fish water inside, they could've simply gathered water somewhere else or perhaps there jugs were already filled with clean water to begin with.

Because this murder mechanism idea is flawed, there's no guarantee that the culprit used this method which required some unknown amount of strength, but an amount of strength regardless (unless the author wants to pass it off as anyone could've done it since it's easier to do it by spinning it, I'm not sure).

Because of that flaw, my theory isn't affected by the murder mechanism idea that Teruko suggested since there is no guarantee that this is the correct answer.

So yeah, there's no problem whatsoever! Also, as far as I'm aware, since the release of the latest episodes, I have a very logically sound reason to explain the taped up wrists as shown in part 5 of my theory.

To give you a small reminder, it was for something like this!

(Whole murder mechanism not properly shown in the drawing because I'm lazy as heck, but just take a close attention to the arms)

By having Arei's arms go between the pillars of the seasaw, you can make it so that she can't get out of it by taping her wrists together, which plays an important role in the murder mechanism. Not going to elaborate further, if you want to know more, you gotta read the big post right there!

And there you have it! Those were the two main concerns that could've negatively affect my theory, but fortunately for me, it doesn't. In fact, it supports it even more than before.

Especially regarding the David / Arei conversation flashback (shown from David's memory's perspective). This conversation told us a lot more between these two, do you know what that means?

That's right! It means that Ace is full of shit! There's no way he didn't hear anything else. The only way he could've not hear anything else is if he gets snuck up from behind and gets knocked out with the turpentine, but it could've easily simply been Ace witholding that information to make David look more suspicious.

Therefore, if he lied about this, he could've also easily lied about when he actually overheard that conversation for his own selfish gains!

There's also a few couple other points that could further support my theory, but I don't feel like going over every single little detail as of now. I mainly wanted to solve these two issues and nothing else.

So, DRDTers, I need to ask you the following : Do you still believe that I am delusional with this overly complex theory of mine? :)

Thanks for reading another one of my big posts, as usual!

Edit : Go read the finale of my theory next, it's worth it!

[atinyjules]

Eyes Off You Ft. Park Jisung {ch-6}

A/n: Welcome to chapter 6! Are you liking it so far? I hope you are! Omg my photocards are so pretty and good quality ✨️ I'll probably be ordering more in the future if I have money 😢 I don't have much to say so I'll leave the yapping for the next chapter lmaoo

The mini masterlist for this series can be found here

Tw: Angsty

After the whole ordeal at uni, Lianna decided that she needed some time alone, so she told the boys to go on without her. Truth is, she was scared to go home like a mess only for Johnny to see her. She didn't want her brother to worry about her, so she decided to kill some time in the park until Johnny left for his job after sundown.

Limping a little, Lianna managed to walk till the bench with great difficulty before finally relaxing and sitting down on one of the park bench. After calming her breathing, Lianna stared at her clothes and her hands. Her once, clean, and pretty varsity jacket was now looking like it had gone through two world wars. Yes, it was a bit of an exaggeration, but maybe it was her because of her emotional state right now.

She dusted her jacket and pants before taking out her phone. The sight of her new phone decorated with a cute white phone case paired with a matching pastel brown bear popsocket and a phone charm with beads that spelled Riize made Lianna smile for the first time after today's happenings.

Was it the fact that Riize got her all these goodies or the fact that they were more loyal than her previous friends that made Lianna feel more love for the seven boys? It was definitely the latter. Despite getting beaten up badly, they still stuck by her. It made her happy and kind of sad, too. Lianna wished that Jisung and the rest did the same for her. Too traumatized by the situations that were happening, a new wave of pain filled her body as she pressed a video she hadn't watched for a long while. Luckily, her Sim card and memory card didn't get destroyed, so she still had everything .

In the background of the video, the soulful sounds of the piano could be heard as an excited and young Jisung held a bouquet of roses while the others held confetti poppers and a cake that said 'Happy Lia Day !' They were preparing to surprise Lianna for her 13th birthday.

Lianna's

I chuckled dryly as I watched the video. They switched off the lights and busted into my practice room, singing happy birthday as 13 year old Lianna broke down into tears. Not wanting to watch further, I ended the video and pressed back quickly before sighing and putting on my headphones to listen to some music. Suddenly, Johnny's name shone through the phone making me panic a bit before picking up the call.

"Hello? Lia, hey... I forgot to send you a text earlier." Johnny said making me furrow my brows.

"What text?" I asked as he laughed nervously.

"Are you home yet? I actually have some work in Busan, I'll be back in a week. I forgot to call you so I thought I'd text you but I forgot. The house key is with the landlord." He said, making me internally let out a sigh of relief.

"I'm out with the guys." I lied as he sighed in relief.

"Thank goodness, remember, the key is with the landlord. I'll be back next week so I left dinner in the fridge and some money for you in case you don't want to cook. You know what, you can just get takeout. I'm sorry for not telling you earlier." He said making me shake my head, not like he sees it though.

"It's fine, I'll manage. Don't overwork yourself." I said as he chuckled.

"I won't, but you take care, alright? You can let Shotaro and Sungchan sleep over if you don't wanna be alone." He said as I hummed in response.

"Okay then." I said when he hummed.

"Hey, you alright? You sound really tired." He said making me panic as I chuckled.

"Yup, I'm fine. We did a lot of stuff at uni today... I'm just tired. I think I'm just burnt out." I said making him gasp.

"Well, that's not good. You sure you're okay?" He questioned making me groan internally.

"Yeah... Oh hey, John... can I just not go to uni for the week? I'm just really burnt out. If I rest it out... I'll be able to focus in class more." I said and bit my nails, scared as to what he'll say.

"Take all the time you need, I know how it feels when we're burnt out. You just rest and sleep it off until you feel better, alright? I'll send the university an email for you leave." He said making me panic.

"It's fine, I'll do it myself. You have a lot of work yourself. I'll send it now and rest." I said as he sighed.

"You really need to learn how to accept people's help... but if you say so. You take care, I'll be back in a week alright?" He said as I hummed in response.

"Take care, come back soon." I said making him chuckle.

"After I'm done, I'll take the first train back." He said in a loving tone.

After ending the call, I put on my headphones and began the trip back home.

I stopped in the middle of the road because of the pain in my abdomen and my legs. I sighed as I looked forward. My apartment was right there, and yet here I was. I sucked it up and gave myself a little pep talk before standing up straight and forcing myself to walk.

"You need help?" I turned to see Zhong Chenle making me widen my eyes before continuing to walk.

"No, thanks." I said making him sigh.

"You sure? You look like you need a piggyback ride. I'll get you to your door." He said, making me shake my head.

It sounds so tempting... shut up, Lianna! Him and his friends are the reason you're like this! But then again... he never did anything to you... and he did give you a drink during the university cleaning drive.

"Look... I'm sorry for everything my stupid friends did. And I'm even more sorry that I didn't do anything. I don't like making a scene... but because of my stupidity, you got even more injured." He said, making me turn to look at his face to search for any signs of insincerity. I sighed in defeat when I didn't find any signs of insincerity in his face.

"You sure? The elevator isn't working... I live on the 20th floor." I said in hopes to scare him away, but he smiled and kneeled in front of me.

"I inhaled three mega sized burgers and a big bowl of ramen today, so it'll help me burn my calories. Get on." He said, making me finally sigh in defeat before getting on his back.

"I'm warning you, I'm quite heavy." I said, making him chuckle.

"Oh please, you're not even half my warm-up weights. I might look like this, but I actually lift weights and work out a lot." He said making me chuckle.

"I can see that." I say sarcastically.

"Does that mean you forgive me?" Chenle asked as I sighed before tugging his hair.

"Ouchh!" He winced making me chuckle.

"Now you're forgiven." I said making him chuckle.

×××

Jisung's

I sighed as I watched Chenle giving Lianna a piggyback. After finding out the truth, I felt devastated and ashamed at my behavior towards Lianna back then and now. I walked home with slumped shoulders as I drank my coke.

"I really am gullible after all..." I mumbled to myself as I walked home.

After reaching home, I locked myself in my bedroom as I got on the bed and went through some of my old high school pictures.

"Park Jisung from high school... I became so popular so quickly that... the popularity and fame swallowed me whole until... until I became the Park Jisung I am now. If only... I had said no." I whispered before putting my phone down and lying face down on my pillow.

When I was about to start high school, Chaeyeon had gotten me to change my hair and my fashion. Although my style is different from how it was back then... I still am the boy who agreed to change myself to become popular. Would we have been friends if I didn't believe Chaeyeon and change myself?

I sigh and look at my pictures of when I was in middle school.

"He was so much happier back then..." I mumbled to myself as I looked at the girl with big transparent glasses and braces next to me.

Feeling tears brim my eyes, I quickly buried my face on my pillow as my hands clenched the pillow.

×××

Lianna's

I sighed as I lay down on my bed after a long day. After changing into my pj's and washing my face, I looked at my bruised face. Letting out a breath, I looked down on the sink before forcing myself to finish my night routine. Not wanting to eat tonight, I just sat on my bed in hopes of falling asleep. After miserably failing, I ended up sitting in a home studio with headphones as I blasted whatever music that came up.

"I'm scared to go to back ..." I mumbled, not hearing my own voice as I put my head down on my keyboard and closed my eyes.

I groaned as music blasted through my headphones, waking me up as I slightly opened my eyes to see the sunlight peaking through my blinds, making me open my eyes. I had fallen asleep in the home studio again.

"Gosh... I need to stop doing this." I said in an annoyed tone as I removed my headphones and stood up to look in the mirror.

"Great! It's just wonderful!" I said sarcastically as I grazed my fingers through my keyboard imprinted skin.

I let out a sigh as I ran my fingers through my hair before brushing and holding my hair in place with a claw clip.

"No class for a week, time to use that to my full advantage." I mumbled as I walked downstairs. Opening the fridge, I gasp as I see the food Johnny left for me... to have at dinner last night.

"Well... I guess it's breakfast now." I mumbled as I warmed up the curry, humming to the song I played from my phone while waiting.

Gradually, my hums became quiet as I stared at my reflection on the window by the sink. My eyes remained glued on the image of my face, the face that I hate so much. My glasses caused me to hate the reflection even more, making me remove my glasses.

"If I had switched to contacts... would I have been more accepted?" I asked myself before I heard the curry burning making me gasp before quickly closing the gas.

"Great... it dried up..." I mumbled before letting my head hit the counter as I groaned.

After eating rice and seaweed for breakfast, I dragged myself upstairs to my bed before sticking there for the rest of the day, binge watching some random kdrama while eating some of the snacks Johnny left.

I roll my eyes and sigh after hearing someone ring the doorbell and knock on the door for the fifth time. Lazily getting up, I headed downstairs and pressed the video button to see who's outside.

Upon realizing who it is I quickly press the audio button.

"Leave." I said in a cold voice as the person sighed and kept knocking.

"Let me in, I wanna talk." Haechan said, making me narrow my eyes as I pressed the audio button.

"Not me. Your actions were enough for me to know what type of person you are, so kindly leave me alone with my kdrama and food." I said as he groaned.

"You didn't come to uni as well... come on... I just wanna talk." He said, making me scoff before pressing the audio button.

"Don't expect me to come tomorrow as well or the day after!" I exclaimed before turning to walk away when Haechan's words caught my attention.

"Jisung is here too... we wanna apologize. " I clenched my fist as I opened the door roughly. Eyeing Haechan first before eyeing Jisung with dark eyes.

"You... and your stupid little gang of friends can bully me as much as you want... I'd rather get beaten to death than speak with you two." I said in a cold tone.

Jisung's

After not seeing Lianna at uni, I got worried as guilt started to eat me from the inside. Ever since I found out the truth, I've been extremely sad and wanted to speak to Lianna, but since she didn't come, I was feeling anxious. Haechan must've been feeling the same thing since he waited for me after class outside the dance studio and told me that he was gonna go and apologize to her.

I decided to go with him to her apartment to talk. After knocking for a long time, she finally spoke, her voice making me happy and sad because of the dark and cold tone she spoke in. After pissing her off by accident, she came out and stared down at us before speaking.

"You... and your stupid little gang of friends can bully me as much as you want... I'd rather get beaten to death than speak with you two." She said in a cold tone.

My eyes glossed as I noticed all the red and blue bruises around her face as she spoke. I wanted to say something, but at that time, I didn't have the courage to utter a single word.

"We were wrong... and we're so sorry." Haechan said making her chuckle.

"As you should. You see these? Your friends did this to me... do you even realise the pain that a single punch from someone like Jeno can give to a person like me? I got multiple punches and slaps thrown on me. My body is in so much pain... almost feels like I'm dying... but the pain you guys gave me... is more than these physical ones." She said in a shaky tone, making me look down, unable to look at the bruises around her eyes and face.

"I'm thankful that Johnny isn't here... my brother is too good... he doesn't deserve to see me like this, and nor does he deserve to know how evil you people really are." She said as Haechan stepped forward.

"I know... but... we really are sorry... you didn't deserve to be treated like that-" She cut his words with a sigh.

"You think... I don't know that? You guys are so insufferable... leave." She commanded, making me panic as I looked up at her.

"Lia..." I trailed when the door in front of us opened to reveal a bruised and battered Seunghan covered in bandaids. He looked different due to the bruise on his eye.

"Here to cause more damage?" He asked in a monotone and low voice as his face remained blank.

"We're only here to-" Seunghan cut my words while staring down at me.

"Apologize? Saying sorry, won't cut it. Lia... get in." Seunghan said, looking at Lia, who listened without a thought making Haechan hold her hand.

"Let go of her hand." We turned to see Sungchan and Eunseok.

"Yah, we're here to talk to Lia... not you." Haechan spoke in a warning tone, making Seunghan let out a dry chuckle.

"Oh, are you? Isn't that cute. But you see... she doesn't want to talk to you. We've all had our dreams of university crushed by your stupid gang... and we've had enough. Leave before we let out our anger and grief on you two." Seunghan warned, making me grab Haechan's hand after making eye contact with Seunghan.

"They're serious..." I mumbled to Haechan, who looked around at them before letting out a breath and walking away.

Riize and Lia have finally had enough!

That's it for this chapter 💖 ✨️

I hope you liked it despite it not being that good 💖✨️

Chapter 7 can be found here

Likes and rebloggs are appreciated 💖 ✨️

[fall0utmind]

Ch 6

Hiiiii

So

I'm so happy no one let vale continue with his shit here, and him FINALLY realising the consequences of his actions (it's been a long time coming)

Don’t you dare, he has every right to move on, you don’t give a shit about him. Don’t pretend you do. He’s wasted enough of his life over you when you went out of your way to ruin him”

E-xa-ctly , wack him more

Alex swearing him out in Catalan is just chef's kiss

I can't imagine how he must have felt watching Marc go through all that😭

Well, we all know he slept with half of the grid after Sepang, so it isn’t a giant leap

Lit jaw dropped, Valentino you shameless cunt how dare you

Did you know it was one of your fucking journalist pals that leaked my medical records? Were you part of that too? Did you take delight in all my pain, or was it just your fans? They never could let 2015 go, a little bit like you I suppose

Yes.

That entire bit with Marc standing up for himself is just perfect, please more of that, as much as I love the protection squad I need Marc to absolutely dog walk him

Valentino realises several truths at once.

Fucking finally you dumb bitch

I need to do everything to grovel just so I forgive him

You had your chance. Don’t come back

Perfect, no notes, love it

You’re a fucking idiot

Summed it up perfectly

He really has screwed up, and he has no idea how to fix it.

Well you better figure it out cause dovi is right there and ready🙄

Can't wait for the next ch, this was just 👌

(also since my other Halsey ask earlier I can't stop thinking about pet play rosquez amidst the divorce like 2015/16, just wish I was able to write but it ain't for me😭 really admire you and all the other writers)

Omg hi, I didn't see this until now I'm so sorry @cassndra93

I'm so glad you liked the chapter. I needed everyone to just have a go at Valentino, I found it very cathartic to write.

Valentino is absolutely a shameless cunt I agree.

I'm so glad you are as invested as me. I needed Marc to stand up for himself cause he's Marc and he doesnt take shit.

Haha, the bit about dovi. Yess. He's like I'm gonna respect your love for Vale and our friendship, but hey, you're attractive, and if you ever fancy it.....

That's the dovquez vibes of this fic!!!

Also okay

Pet play Rosquez... might put it on a to be written list.... no promises, but maybe ....

[gizkasparadise]

2023 wrapped: webtoon edition!

my final 2023 wrapped post for the year! unlike previous ones, this list is every series i read this year vs. ones that started this year. previous lists for this year:

cdrama edition

kdrama edition

ranked from least favorite to most favorite, which doesn't mean objectively best, just ones that hit me more. ones that are completed series will have a * after the title

15 my deepest secret*. omfg i hated this webtoon. the twist was asinine and frankly ignorant. none of the characters were likeable by the end. hate quit this one with like 5 chapters left to go i just couldnt

14 my second husband. seemed promising at first! i was hooked for the first 40 chapters or so but then it just started getting weirdly paced, had big plot holes, and nothing ever felt like it was getting resolved. the ML had like 0 charisma as well. dropped.

13 to love your enemy. this one was REALLY fun until the cult arc hit and then it was the biggest wtf is happening. dropped it shortly after

12 i dont hate us*. i liked this one until the timeskip ending, where then everyone and everything just felt really off. the second female lead gets a special mention because i HATED her at first but by the end she was my favorite character <3

11 romance 101.* this was okay. the art style was really cute and i loved the FL. but there never seemed to be any chemistry with the main ship to me, and the plot became really focused on the app/programming club which bored the hell out of me. dropped this one around chap 100

10 shadow bride. nothing bad but nothing particularly noteworthy for me. fluff read.

9 high spirits neoma. im not very far into this webtoon yet, or it'd be higher up the list im sure. im around ch 5 and finding it really charming and i love the color palette for it

8 dreaming freedom/freedom in dreams. although the art style isnt my cup of tea, i really enjoyed this fucked up high school revenge/romance webtoon but where im currently at (ch. 111ish) it's starting to feel a little circular. hoping it goes back to what it does best which is Unsettling Shit

7 my reason to die*. man this would've been in my top 3 but the ending arc is just. really boring??? like i dont want to watch them search for a pot farm for 10 chapters. i havent finished this one yet, but ive been putsing getting back into it ever since post reveal. the drama is very pretty though and the reveal chapters hit me like a truck in a good way

6 operation true love. i borderline hated this webtoon when i first started, but the reviews had me wanting to stick it out and im so glad i did!! around ep 10ish it really finds its footing and just keeps going for it! very kdrama in flavor and endearing FL.

5 unholy blood*. a fun, dark, and nostalgic webtoon about vampires and vampire hunting that brought me back to my tween years in the best way. the character designs are really awesome. it's a little lower on the list because the ending felt a bit rushed, but it's a really solid horror/action comic with a lil romance

4 surviving romance*. this one's complete but i got about 10 chapters left. it's a really fun horror comic (NOT romance, dont be fooled by the title) that reminds me of extraordinary you but if the plot was focused on the metaphysical horror of it a little more. fun characters and relationships. a little lower just because the second "return" arc feels tedious/unneeded so far. we'll see. TEAM RINA.

3 maybe meant to be/fate found by chance. ive found that i tend to gravitate toward darker webtoons, so this is my c-c-combo breaker! cute, funny, quirky, and really endearing. standard contract marriage plot but between two delightful weirdos

2 purple hyacinth. this series is everything. the art is gorgeous, it has its own OST built into the reading. the characters are nuanced and complicated and omg it's a ride and a half so far.

1 olgami/trapped*. INCREDIBLE characters and such an intense look at enemies-to-lovers. the drama starts as a psycho-thriller about gravedigging for a vampire and ends up about two leads who have never learned how to love willing to try it with one another in their fucked-up way. dysfunctional. hot. SO GOOD. the art evolution for this series was great as well

[studentbyday]

don't ask me to analyze poetry but sometimes i get the last lines stuck in my head bc it's a long road to get to where i wanna be in life...

D-37 & D-36 DAYS TO FREEDOM

yesterday i studied for 3h and 36 mins. i was supposed to study for 6+ hours. today i will try to make up for it bc yesterday was just not enough time to finish everything i was supposed to. i wonder how long it will take me to figure out (and be okay with) a reasonable to-do list. i really feel like i keep overwhelming myself with things to do that i just keep feeling defeated and demotivated every day bc it's impossible to finish it all in 1 day...

learning:

finish 2nd biochem discussion reply (took 2h 😑) ✅ (why is it *so* *hard* to read and understand biochem papers without reading at a snail's pace?? 😩)

finish 1.5 psyc ch for this week ✅ (OMG THE NEUROSCIENCE OF CONSCIOUSNESS IS SO COOL and also really freaky bc many different brain regions are so dependent on each other so damage may mean you don't actually perceive smth??? unfortunately to allow my brain to osmose the info, i need to slow down 🥺 i wish i could go faster.)

finish biochem sec 1, start sec 2 ✅

self-care:

physio exercises x2 ✅

journal x2 ✅

laundry ✅

update: i could not stick to pomodoro for more than 3h today and i didn't study anymore after that. i could not focus very well after the first hour and a half. i think it's because i didn't sleep well last night. so i'm gonna finally try to be consistent for a week and go to bed between 9-10 even if i don't feel like it and even if i can't fall asleep right away for the first couple of days. also, i think i'll try to reduce the amount of stuff i write on a day's to-do list. i'll still be aiming for 6-8h of studying per day, but we're gonna go with 4 or 5 tasks a day if 2 or 3 of them are small (takes an hour or less) and 3 if all the tasks are big (i.e. takes 2 hours or more) and if i finish early, then everything else i do will be a happy bonus, and if not, that's fine as well bc i'm still gonna get it done within the week, just not this instant. maybe tmr's update will feature a new bujo spread? (i changed it from the 2-page weekly to a super basic 6 column thing that would allow me to timeblock my days but...ofc that didn't help for very long bc all that space allowed me to overwhelm myself every day!)

🎶 liebesleid/love's sorrow - kreisler/rachmaninoff (yes the same set of songs keep getting stuck in my head. it seems to stay like that until i'm able to play them myself. so we're gonna be with this set for a while 😅 as a sidenote, this was a great song to listen to as i journalled about imposter syndrome 😂 it really fit the vibes 😎)

[chloeangelic]

Chloeeeeeeeeee!😱 OMG! Crescentina! I don't know if I should kiss you or punch (a friendly shoulder punch) you for writing that chapter. It was such a scrumptiously porny sequence, so damn hot and filthy with such an ending. How Joel ties her up and manhandles her is jaw-dropping in the best of ways. It made me go feral, squealing and squirming, lol! I'm so happy you're you, and you have the brain you have that comes up with such beautifully deliciously hot writing. I loved every word, not only the smutty parts (Joel feeding Ladybug felt like a pre-smutty part), but the shared intimacy made my heart burst with love for these two, plus Joel being that said gorgeous example of healthy masculinity that cries over ''Finding Nemo'', even if, from the first word, my mind kept telling me something would happen at the end. There was no way this blissful piece of heaven they found themselves living in could span the whole weekend they had planned.

I could keep gushing my love for the chapter forever if my brain could stop overthinking what the ending means for these two. I'm not asking for answers, but who is better to share my thinking than the person who's writing the story?

-I think I already made a comment on it, but is there something more about how much they like each other's smell, be it the clean one with shampoo/gel/cologne or the sweaty one? And how Joel smells her ovulation? I find it really hot, but I tend to be a bit hopeless in identifying metaphors and hidden images, and I cannot help but wonder.

-Who is at the door? A part of me wants it to be Gwen, so everything is finally out in the open. But just the idea of telling his wife he has been cheating on her has Joel hurting so much that it makes me want to wish it was someone else, like Tommy or Ellie. Despite the state of their relationship, there's still care and love (not necessarily romantic) between them, and Joel telling her he has cheated would be a harsh blow. If you add seeing him in the act doing things with an intensity, I get the vibe he has never done with Gwen, which ups it all to a whole new level. But who else would open that door when, by the feeling I got, the noise they were making left nothing to guess about what was happening in that room? Everyone else would go in the opposite direction. Unless the room is soundproofed, which I don't think it was.🤔

-Why do I feel like the plan B pill is not in their minds anymore? It might be quite complicated sometimes to get pregnant, but it can also take one time, and they have gone at it like rabbits.

Thanks for the chapter. It was mindblowing! I cannot express my need/desire/desperate beg (with no intention of being pushy) to read the next chapter.

Sorry, but not that much sorry for the ramble I'm just sending you! That’s how much you’re making me think. Love you! ♥️♥️♥️

hiii!!! im working on seeking 6 as we speak so i figured this was the perfect time to discuss ch 5 !!! first of all, thank you so much for your lovely words as always <3 i am SMILING reading through this for the third time

that punch is gonna move from my shoulder to my face really quick, believe me :S wouldn't it be absolutely psychotic if i wrote a chapter where absolutely nothing went wrong?? hahah

them liking each other's smell is honestly just my personal kink, though i think there's a strong compatibility thing around liking the smell of someone's sweat. no deeper meaning behind that - i'm also terrible with hidden meanings, so your first guess is usually right when it comes to my stuff.

you'll see who is at the door pretty quickly in the next chapter ;)

they have fully forgotten about the plan B HAHA and that is also mentioned in ch 6, which - if i get my shit together - could realistically be posted in a few days.

love YOU !! <3 <3

[lostfirefly]

You’ve Got the Same Dream as Me (Ch.8)

Hello, kiddos! The idea for this fanfic came to me from a dream (again) I had about a month ago. Тhe main characters were T. Cruise & H.Cavill (don't ask me why), but with a light hand they have been replaced. The main action of the dream took place somewhere in the sands. Аlthough this fanfic will feature Sir Crocodile and our beloved Buggy, the action shifts to the desert. No marines, ships etc. The devil fruit's abilities are preserved. Catch the Mummy and Indiana Jones vibes :) Different titles and names from the original source material will be used to emphasise the general OP's vibe.

Since English is not my native language, errors may occur. As always, feel free to share your thoughts :) 

And thank you to my dear @yujo-nishimura and @laurasoretta for believing in me :)

Description: Catherine, a librarian who is searching for the trail of her sister who went missing on an expedition. Notes in books and diaries lead her to Cairo. There she finds a retailer from an artifact shop who, in exchange for selling her a map and equipment, insists that Catherine take her along. They get into a little (or maybe a big) adventure.. 

Warnings: Catherine is still angry about the phrase Buggy said in Ch. 7 (he's a vulnerable idiot). That's why she can be a little annoying. F words. Croco x OC are two assholes. Adventures and fun are still here. Buggy x OC, Sir Crocodile x OC. Hope you enjoy it!

Words: 3262 (omg!)

The title is taken from «You've Got the Same Dream as Me» (Sonya Belousova & Giona Ostinelli) (One Piece, Netflix)

Taglist: @gingernut1314

✎﹏﹏﹏﹏﹏﹏﹏﹏﹏﹏﹏﹏﹏﹏

• Chapter 1, Chapter 2, Chapter 3, Chapter 4, Chapter 5, Chapter 6, Chapter 7

✎﹏﹏﹏﹏﹏﹏﹏﹏﹏﹏﹏﹏﹏﹏

"Oh, hi, sister!"

"Oh, hi, sister? Jules, are you fucking kidding me? You’ve been missing for almost two months, I come looking for you, and all you can say is, "oh, hi, sister"? Catherine could hardly contain her anger and slowly approached Jules. "What are you doing here? And why are you with the beehive?"

"Well, after breaking up with Pete, I decided to go on an expedition to clear my head.. There I met a man with a funny haircut in the shape of a three. He offered me an interesting case and good money. And this nice man is his boss", brown-haired girl said with a smile. 

"Oh, God! Could you please shut up?" Rika said with annoyance. She walked up to Jules and pushed her towards Catherine. "Welcome to the team of misfits."

"Heeey", Jules squealed.

"All right, ladies and the clown. Enough of this chit-chat and all this drama. Now you put your brains together, if you have them, read your maps, your diaries, and tell us where we're going next." 

Crocodile approached Rika. 

"You've done a great job, my love. Look and learn, clown, what kind of woman you should choose", Crocodile said with a sneer and kissed Rika again eagerly.

"Thank you! But I want to remind you that you hurt me at that old man's house," Rika returned the kiss. 

"It's still ew", Catherine said with disgust.

"Oh, fuck! You've tired me out this week," Rika stopped kissing Crocodile, approached Catherine and grabbed her shoulder. "You know how many times I wanted to punch you in your pretty face, so you'd finally shut up. Now be a good girl, go back to your loser's place and do what you've just been told."

"And when did you have time to contact Crocodile, Rika?" Buggy asked, taking Catherine’s hand and leading her behind him.

"About a month ago, why? Do you feel bad about me not being with you or something? No, thanks. I found the real man."

"Hell, please, no. Just curious. I don't understand why you need me."

"Oh, are you trying to sneak out, my clown boy? Well, somebody had to get us in here. Crocodile doesn’t know the exact way, and you've been here before, albeit from the other side, and you have our box. Plus, I knew you'd fall for the treasure and, obviously, the girl. So. Sorry, buddy."

"Will someone tell me what's going on here?" suddenly asked Jules and glanced at Buggy, "and who are you?"

"They are," Catherine pointed at Crocodile and Rika, "two bastards. And that brown-haired bitch I met at the airport. She gave me a flight ticket. And he..."

"What do you mean, she gave you the ticket?" Buggy interrupted Catherine and looked at her in surprise. "Did you just take the fucking ticket out of that girl's hand? Did you really think a random stranger would just give it to you?"

"Well...," she looked at him with round eyes and shrugged.

"God, you're even dumber than I am," he rolled his eyes and shook his head.

"Oh, yeah! And this is coming from the 'I don't need a plan' person," Catherine mocked Buggy, standing behind his back.

"That's enough!" Crocodile stepped closer to them. "Listen, clown. Please tell your girl and her sister to tell us where we need to go. Otherwise…"

He grabbed Jules with his hook.

"Okay, okay!" Catherine said, "I'll do what you want. Just don't touch her". 

"Catherine, don't!" Buggy hissed.

"I’m not gonna let some guy with the hook hurt my sister or you," - she said in a whisper and blushed slightly. "Come on, Jules. Let's take a look at the map". 

"Good girls. Laura, honey, stand next to that fucking clown. He's got powers and he could easily make a run for it," Crocodile sat on the floor and lit a cigar. 

"As you wish, boss."

Catherine and Jules sat on the cold rocks, shining flashlights on the map and diary entries. A light breeze walked through the space. They spent a long time going over the pages with their hands.

"Look," Catherine pointed to the coordinates in the diary. "We were here, here, and here. I think we're here now, right? The map’s drawn the path."

"First of all, I'm shocked at what's happening. What's going on? Second of all, what do you mean, the map's drawn a path? And third," Jules smiled wryly, "who's that guy with the red nose?"

"Fuck! I'm begging you, let's first get out of this fucking cave or wherever we are now. This is all your fault. If you hadn't disappeared, I wouldn't have come here and I'd be sitting at home with coffee right now, and everything would be fine." 

"Hey, I apologize for interrupting your family drama, but did you find anything?" Buggy squatted down next to them.

"Not yet. Why are you asking? Oh, you're worried you're gonna miss out on the treasure now? And then you can't get a girl for one night at the bar?" Catherine mumbled, turning the pages.

"Why are you so mad?" he asked in surprise.

"I'm not... I don't care about you and your late-sex life, actually. You could go out and fuck every girl in town in one night."

"Oh, wow, right to the heart!" he exclaimed in a mocking tone, but he changed it quickly. "Hey, listen. About what I said.. I want to ap--"

"How much longer are you going to suffer bullshit?" Crocodile asked with annoyance. "Any news?"

"Don't yell at me, the beehive! No upd.. Uh, wait. Buggy, hold the flashlight, please", Catherine ran her hand over the sheets and mumbled something to herself. "Hey, the hook man. Do you have the book with you?"

"Of course. Laura, give it to her," Crocodile said with a low voice.

Laura went to the bag, pulled out the book and handed it to Catherine. 

"Thank you, bitch," Catherine barked.

Reconciling the entries in the book and in her diary, Catherine continued to mutter something to herself and surveyed the space. She ran the fingers of one hand over the pages, the other hand drawing some shapes in the air. 

"What is she doing?" Jules asked Buggy with a whisper.

"I have no idea, I thought you knew. She’s your sister."

Rika and Crocodile watched Catherine's strange movements intently. 

"I got it!" - Catherine jumped up abruptly, grabbing the book and diaries and walked quickly forward. "Jules, look at the map. Are there any changes now?"

"I see nothing," Jules said, looking closely at the map. 

"Honey, you'd better tell us where to go next," Crocodile walked over to Catherine and took her firmly by the neck.

"Hey, let her go," Buggy walked over to Crocodile.

"Or what? All right, I can't cut you. But I can cut her. I can cut her sister. Or kill. You're not in a very good position right now, clown. So, save your heroics for some petty squabbling amongst lowlifes like you."

"You can threaten me as much as you want, I don't give a shit about it. But if you lay one finger or your hook on either of them…"

"Then what? Are you gonna kill me?" at that moment, Crocodile's hand began to turn to sand.

"Stop! Please!" Catherine took Buggy's hand and gave him a hard look. "It's okay. I’m fine. Anyway, the beehive, I have bad news for you. The map is useless now until we get out of here. It only points the way in daylight and, as I understand it, in direct sunlight. So, we'll follow the path where the road is drawn now, and if there's nothing further, we'll go blind."

Rika came over to Jules and looked at the map.

"I hate to break it to you, my love, but that bitch is right. So far, the path's partially drawn. I don't know why the fucking thing didn't draw it all the way through. You're not so stupid, are you, Catherine?"

Catherine rolled her eyes and started packing.

"What was that? His hand turned to sand. And what does that big man mean when he said he can't cut that guy?" she asked with horror in her voice.

"Ah, it's a side effect of the devil fruit," Catherine waved her hand, "I'll tell you later."

⥫⥫⥫⥫⥫⥫⥫⥫⥫⥫⥫⥫⥫⥫⥫⥫⥫⥫⥫⥭⥭⥭⥭⥭⥭⥭⥭⥭⥭⥭⥭⥭⥭⥭⥭⥭⥭

They walked along the winding rocky paths for over an hour, lighting the way with torches. The wind continued to blow through the cave, bringing smells of damp and rot. 

"God, I don't want to die in a cave and lie here like some pharaoh", Jules muttered to herself, shifting her feet heavily, "And at first that man with the hook seemed so nice."

"Bastards always seem nice at first. Don't they, Buggy?" Catherine cast a glance at the clown and adjusted her bag.

"If you have a problem with me, cotton candy, just say so," he said in a surprisingly calm tone.

"I don't have a problem with you, and I don't want to talk to you," she snapped.

Jules looked at them questioningly. 

"But you keep doing it, Cathie-pie", he said with a slight irony in his voice. "One minute you're mad at me, and the next..."

"Shut up, please, I hate you," she interrupted him with a quiet growl. "Shit, if you knew how much you piss me off, silly clown, I'd.... Ouch!"

Catherine didn't realize she'd hit a stone wall. 

"What the hell?" she touched the space in front of her. 

"Are you okay?" Buggy put his hand on her back.

"What? Yeah, I'm fine... But..."

"What happened?" Crocodile's voice came from behind her. "Where are we?"

"I don't know...," Catherine shone the torch on the wall. "We couldn't have lost our way. We could have taken a wrong turn… in theory... There are a million paths."

"We could have taken a wrong turn, huh? Are you kidding me?" Rika took two big steps and grabbed Catherine's arm. "I swear to God, I'll rip your head off if you take us down the wrong path."

"Get your crocodile hands off me!" Catherine tried to throw off Rika’s hand. "We're in a bloody ancient cave in the middle of Egypt. You think there's only one way in a cave like this? I’m really sorry that it's not lit up like a fucking highway. Just give me a minute. Jules, the map!"

Rika let go of Сatherine's hand and continued to stand by her side.

"That's why I love you, baby. For your temper," Crocodile walked over to Rika and put his arm around her waist. 

"It’s still ew, by the way," Catherine snorted and stared at the map. "Jules, the diary! Buggy, please, hold the torch. One more riddle is written here..."

Check the wall, and touch the floor, 

It can help to open the door. 

You'll be helped by a pillar of fire.

Just take it up a notch higher.

"And what does it mean?" Crocodile asked. 

"Well, you're supposed to be the smartest guy here, so think about it", Catherine said mockingly.

"I'm sick of you!" Crocodile hissed. "Laura, I think our redheaded smarty-pants is a little out of touch. Maybe a gun would help. Will you please point that pretty thing at her little sister?" 

Laura took out a gun, cocked the slide and put it to Jules' temple. 

"You’re truly a piece of shit," Catherine whispered. "If the four of you want to get to the treasure, shooting somewhere in the dungeon is not recommended. You'll turn to sand and escape, the clown will fall to pieces and escape too, and the four of us will be crushed by something heavy. No offense, but that's not how I pictured my demise."

"Very funny, yes," Crocodile grinned. "Now go to your blue-haired friend and open the door."

"Check the wall, and touch the floor.. a pillar of fire. Jules, Buggy, obviously, we need to check the walls and floor with the torch or the flashlight, there must be some clues there," Catherine said this with undisguised admiration. 

"I think you're beginning to like this whole treasure hunting thing," Buggy said with a grin.

"No, I just want to go home and be away from you," Catherine tried to sound serious. 

With the torch, Jules and Buggy lit every millimetre of the wall. Catherine sat on her knees and ran her hands over the floor. 

“You know, Crocodile, I know you're kind of mafia, but maybe you could help. The sooner we get out of here, the sooner you can get your gold”, Catherine said, probing the stone tiles in the darkness. “Check those rocks you're standing on, please.”

Crocodile snorted. Rika nodded her head slightly and they began to check the floor beneath them. 

"There are some drawings here," Rika said.

"Yeah, and there are some on the wall, too," Jules mumbled. 

Catherine sat down on the stone floor, Crocodile sat next to her. They both stared at the book. Rika and Buggy watched them both warily.

"Look, the hook, you see, one of the slabs in the book is marked with a sign. That's how the ancient Egyptians labelled something like a button, if I'm not mistaken."

"Buttons? To what?" Crocodile looked at Catherine questioningly.

"I don't know. Maybe it's your treasure behind the door, maybe it's sarcophagi with mummies or a bunch of man-eating scarabs. But you see, there's a drawing here. It's a diagram. We have to click on the pictures on the wall and the floor in the right order, I guess... But we need to find some kind of lever that activates it all."

"And if we press in the wrong order, then what?" Crocodile asked in a quiet voice.  

"Well, then we have a good chance of turning into mummies, and in a few hundred years local kids will be scared with scary stories about us." Catherine said, barely containing a nervous laugh. "Yes, I've always dreamed of dying next to the sandman and the clown."

Crocodile stood up and offered Catherine his hand. 

"Thanks, I guess," she said with surprise in her voice. "Okay, guys, we need to find a lever, a big button or something..."

Catherine and Crocodile continued to look at the book and diary while Laura, Rika, Buggy and Jules were exanimating the walls and floor. 

"People, there's another sign here," Laura said, lighting an obscure symbol with her torch.

"Wait, that's...," Catherine sat down next to her, "it's Seth's sign."

"How is Seth?" Crocodile asked.

"God, сome on! You're in Egypt. It's an Egyptian god."

"Then what do these symbols mean?" Jules' voice came from the wall. 

Catherine approached her. 

"Jules, sister, hold the book. Buggy, hold the torch and the diary," she began to run her hands over the wall and the pages again, muttering something to herself. 

"Anything?" Rika asked, coming up behind her. 

"Wait a minute, wait a minute, don't distract me," Catherine waved her hand away. "Guys, I get it. Look, these aren't just symbols. It's a puzzle. But not just a puzzle, a puzzle of myth. And a note that says "Beware of Seth".

"What myth?" Buggy asked in surprise.

"Osiris and Isis," Catherine said affirmatively.

"And what's it about?" Laura asked and Rika said together.

"Come on! Seth killed Osiris, Isis' husband, chopped him up and hid him in different places. Buggy, by the way, if you bother me, I'll do the same to you," she said with a slight smile.

"I'm sorry, what?" he raised his eyebrows. 

"Isis went in search of her husband's parts. The symbols on the wall and floor match the ones in the book. And if you look in the diary, you'll know in what order to press the buttons." 

"But what does this have to do with Seth?" Laura asked. "You know, I don't know much about all these Egyptian myths, but it seems to me that if something is mentioned in the text, you should take it into account." 

"Seth is the god of storms and deserts, that doesn't make sense," Jules said.

"But he was also considered the god of deception," Catherine whispered. "We need to press these slabs in reverse order. We have to find the lever and then start this infernal mythological machine." 

"There's something like a wheel in here, but to be honest, I don't really want to touch it," Jules said with excitement in her voice, pointing to a small object. 

Crocodile and Buggy approached the wheel. Turning it a few times they both looked round.

"And now what?" Crocodile asked.

Catherine looked at the book and started pointing with her hand. 

"Now we have to press the slabs in reverse order, that's what Laura, you over here, Jules, you over here, Rika, you on that slab, you two stand over there at those two slabs closer together. Just in case there's a door, of course."

She sat down on the ground, put the book next to her, and started rambling again. 

-Feet.. Arms... Body... Arms... Legs. Okay, first brown-haired bitch Rika. Then Jules. No, no, no, no.. first Laura. Then Rika. Then Jules. Then beehive. Then Buggy."

In that order, everyone pressed the slabs. 

"And what? Nothing happens. Are you sure you got it right?" Buggy asked with a distinct annoyance in his voice. 

"I-I.. I don't know, I hope so."

"If you decided to trick us...," Rika moved with a quick step towards Catherine.

Suddenly they heard a strange noise and the floor started to wobble. 

"Please tell me it was you who ran so hard," Catherine said with fear in her voice, getting up from the floor. "Oh-oh, that's not good." 

Slowly the walls began to fall down. The floor began to move more and more. 

"What's with the door?" Rika shouted.

"It won't open," Jules hit the wall with her hand. 

"Oh-oh, that's too bad!" Catherine looked around, dazed with shock. 

"Are you sure you read it right?" shouted Crocodile.

"Do you really have to ask that now?" Catherine yelled back. 

The heavy stone door began to open slowly. Crocodile and Buggy tried to pull it to move it, but to no avail.

"Yes! Yes! It's opening!! Hurry!" Jules took Laura's hand, and they slipped through the narrow passage.

"Catherine, hurry!" Rika grabbed her arm and dragged her towards the door. 

The floor began to slowly collapse. From the bottom of the cave came the muffled sounds of stone hitting stone. Catherine noticed the book that had been left on the floor.

"The book!" she broke free of Rika's grip and ran to get it. 

"Rika!" Crocodile turned into sand and picked Rika up. 

"Oh, Catherine, this was a bad idea. That's the dumbest idea ever," she muttered to herself as she watched the floor fall down in bigger and bigger chunks. 

Suddenly, she felt someone pick her up and book.

"You will be the death of me, cotton candy!" Buggy's flying torso threw her on his shoulder and carried her to the door. 

"Damn you and your chop chop abilities," she said, exhaling as she watched the remnants of the floor fall into the abyss of the cave. 

As soon as everyone was behind the door, it closed. 

"Is everyone alive?" Rika asked, lighting a torch from the wall.

"I think so," Laura and Jules squeaked in unison somewhere. 

Buggy lowered Catherine to the ground and put his body back on his feet. She looked around.

"Well. I have two bits of news. One, we're all alive. The second is that the way back is cut off".

[wild-karrde]

Hello Miss Karde! I have come to you again kindly beseeching you to behold some recommendations! I have said it once and i'll say it again I don't know how you keep doing this, but I'm grateful that you do!

Okie dokie! First up is the latest (and steaming hot!) chapter in the Shades of Dates Series (Soft hands for love) By @rain-on-kamino . OMG DOGMA!!! So sweet and then OH soooo steamy.... It's like witnessing the birth of a Dom... ooofta!! I giggled, my mind blanked, I had to stick my head in the freezer over the unwritten possibilities!!!!

Then there is the latest in the AU merWrecker Story Stormy Seas By @cloned-eyes . I wasn't sure when I started to read the series but it's cute and angsty and has mystery/ thriller vibes. But if that ain't yo jam then you should see the art they do! Gotta shout out this amazing piece of art of Shower Fives

For a feelgood giggle and all the cuties I reccomend you swing over to @ladykagewaki for her Bebe Batch comics they make me smile!

@daimyosprincess has truly gifted us with this Masterful series Ex Libris!!! It's got me feeling some kind of way.... Whoooooo it's hot. The latest (AND MOST INCINDIERIAY YET!!!!) chapter Dedication will have your panties spontaniously combust off of your body... you'll get second hand sub space....

Last but not least I have finally had the time to start reading the Chuckles fic with the lil Jedi bebos and OOOOOoooohhhhhhh!!!! Firstly I was not ready for the bittersweet amazingness that is going on (I'm only on ch 6), but Chuckles and the kiddos deserve the world. Mandalorians and their foundlings got me in the feels. THANK YOU!!!

This is QUITE a list! Everything from dates with Dogma to Mermaid AUs and College AUs! Its COMPREHENSIVE and has something for EVERYONE! And thank you so much for the kind words about One Step at a Time! I promise I'm getting back to writing it, and I'm hoping to have the next chapter posted before too long!

Participate in Fandom Friday to show your favorite creators from this week some love! :)

[handhelld]

omg do you have a pattern for the mini chilchuck?!

I dont have anything proper written up and released yet no! I do have some handwritten notes for it though and ill add those below!

Thats the basic pattern for his body! Heres the color key

None: brown

Yellow: skintone

Green: green

Grey: light grey

Blue: dark grey

And for the stitches its just

Mr: magic ring/magic circle

Sc: single crochet

Flo: crochet in the front loop only

Hdc: half double crochet

Dc: double crochet

Inc increase

Dec: decrease

Bbl: bobble stitch (i pull through with 6 loops on the hook for big ol bobbles)

His ears are 5hdc in a magic ring, then a row of 5 hdc increases

Hair is two of: ch5, sc, hdc,dc, and dc2, hdc in the last stitch

And the middle hair is similar but instead of that final hdc, do a chain and then repeat it backwards down the other side (sc, hdc, dc, 2dc ch 2dc, dc, hdc, sc)

Sorry if this is messy ;; I plan to get a better version out soon enough! But my priority rn is getting my senshi pattern written

ALSO yarn wise i tend to use doubled up worsted yarn for my plushies and a size 5.5 hook! And the details (hair n ears for chil) get 4 mm hook and just one strand of yarn

[m1ckeyb3rry]

A

PSYCHIC DAMAGE LMFAOOOP omg…now I’m shaking just thinking of the wc HAHAHA I’ll start mentally preparing…

OK DID YOU READ THE CH???? ANOTHER MANIFESTATION OFF THE LIST?? I’m strike throughing this to make it harder to read at first glance in case you haven’t read yet We literally said tabieita best duo because they’re mature enough and confident enough alone which allows them to duo without dependence THAT WAS LITERALLY LIKE HALF THE CH????

Yuki third wheel friend…yuki the “walk behind the duo on the sidewalk” third friend….tbh I think the person I’ve seen him with the most is actually Isagi??? From his little tantrum/rivalry moment….no ykw you’re so right we claim yuki!!

LMAOOOOOOO I’m crying this is so true to their dynamic and I love it sm….barou nagi honestly another iconic duo I can imagine Barou being like “you better stand six feet away from my ball at all times”…

STOP WAIT THATS GENIUS Barou one of the girls HAHAHA that’s so real though!! It kinda reminds me about how Kunigami was canonically like that before bllk because he hung around his sisters a lot!! IM GONNA SHIT MYSELF LAUGHING “y/n l/n is a lovely girl who can really keep a house clean. any man would be lucky to have her” GOODBYE the duo wingman plus imposter wingman dynamic im so living for this….

OOOH NICE!! Except for the knocked out part LOL I feel like I’ve heard that they have that effect…but fr!!! I have no idea how it’d work exactly but you could also maybe consider taking a smaller dosage to see if it’s enough to keep the nausea under control without glueing your eyes shut….that’s sometimes what I do with allergy meds LOL

PARAGLIDING omgggg HAVE FUN!!!! I can def imagine how it’d seem intimidating but I bet you’ll have a lot of fun once you’re in the air!! Just channel your inner crow HAHA THE EMO MOMENT LMAOO BUT DONT LOOK OUT THE WINDOW /hj I feel like seeing the scenery and other cars move from the side perspective makes that dizzy feeling worse…..could be different for you though but that’s what I’ve noticed!

REAL lowk I wonder if it’s maybe more of a he doesn’t actually know what loneliness is because he’s been left alone all his life kind of thing….but anyways…..

-Karasu anon

YOU SHOULD BE SCARED 😈 or alternatively grateful HAHA looking back at that 6-9k word count estimate is cracking me up because this one is making the otoya version look short 😭

I DID READ IT FINALLY AND OMG WHEN NAGI CALLED THEM A MATURE PARTNERSHIP I WAS LIKE ??? why is bro reading the tumblr convos that’s word for word what we said in the past 😟 also wait this is cracking me up…

CANNOT believe we have a canon panel of hollyhock sengoku era otoya now ⁉️ pov bro on his way to chill in y/n’s room instead of actually trying to find and kill reiji hiiragi as he was hired to 🤫

i do think i’ve seen him with isagi the most also because of the mancity match but tbh isagi has so many more relevant duos (rin, bachira, barou, even hiori and nagi) that it feels very very one sided?? i wish yuki and kuni or yuki and reo would become a duo because i think he would work w either of them really well!! technically reo and nagi are already a thing but it could be a way to break them up and let them find new friends and partners that push them more!! and kunigami + chigiri is also a thing but chigiri is so chill w everyone that i could see kuni and yuki being like a secondary duo the way isagi and hiori are

BAROUNAGI MY FAVS IN EVERY WAY!! truly they have the relationship rin and sae could have if they were just a tiny bit more normal abt things/their rivalry (but you didn’t hear that from me 😶‍🌫️) and LMAOO omg wait lowkey if only kunigami wasn’t busy in wildcard he would also be a hilarious prospect for that kind of thing 😭 barou gives me such one of the girls vibes though like i bet he’d let his gf braid his hair and whatnot…the SECOND one of the bllk boys says smth he tweaks heavy but he won’t take them out even if they’re shit because like his girl worked hard on them 🙁 LMAOOO the yuki barou team up would be wild especially when karasu is actively working against them 😰 and nagi is also just there for some reason too??? i think it would be funny if he gets dragged into things as a repeated bystander and eventually he gets super invested because it’s like an episode of a drama for him but irl 😭 so he somehow knows everything going on but refuses to intervene on either side (which pisses barou off) because he exclusively wants the tea and doesn’t really care how things end up 😩 he’ll randomly drop hints to move the plot along when it’s getting boring though but they’re cryptic enough that they end up causing more chaos than anything…like “karasu i heard y/n likes tall dark haired soccer players” “SHE LIKES ARYU???”

unfortunately i was knocked out on just half of a pill 😩 and paragliding was super super cool + not scary at all but i DID throw up into a little plastic baggie like 5 or 6 times and was nauseous/dizzy soooo would not repeat that experience 😓 but honestly i’m still glad i did it because it was so fun besides the vomiting and such a unique experience!! truly felt like a little bird hahaha…apparently nausea and motion sickness are a symptom of my birth control so once i’m back home i’m going to call the doctor and see if they have any tips!! for now we must endure i suppose 😔

truly i don’t think nagi understands human connection or loneliness or anything like that too well so he’s fine living without actual relationships because you can’t miss what you don’t know 🙁💔 but honestly he seems like he would’ve been very loving if he was raised normally?? like despite what everyone thinks he’s pretty loyal to reo and treats choki so nicely that if he had had a proper upbringing he probably would’ve been such a good friend/significant other 😪 that’s just my headcanon though until we get his actual backstory (like his childhood not just right before bllk) and see what things were like…adding this to the manifestation circle because i NEED to see baby nagi!! i bet he was soooo cute (and also i need to know if he escaped the bowl cut allegations 😭 his hair is wavyish so i think he must be safe?? but you never know)

[manonamora-if]

Weekly check in. Some little stuff, some bigger stuff.

Current word count: 23.323 (Ch.5), >8k (Ch.6)

And we're finally back on track with Harcourt, babyyyy. After a month of eh from both me (with the editing) and MelS (writing the next chapter), we both managed to break through our respective blocks.

As of a few days ago, I sent back the edited Chapter 5 to MelS, so he could answer my comments and check the changes. I finally got to read the missing bits (and they are creepy and yucky)... Can't wait to code all of that when it is ready. We definitely need another round of MelS editing the text and me checking it, before I can add that to the file.

Until I get the file back, I'll focus on other projects.

Like...

Yerup... I ended up finishing it. A little binksi with more vibes than story. Click if you dare :P

Making a binksi (or a bitsy/bipsi) had been something on my bucket list for a while now (almost a year actually), and I finally got to make one for realsies!

Honestly, the hardest part in all of this... was making the tiles/sprites in 8x8 pixels ;-; Anyway, the code is freely available on itch and my GitHub.

Fixed some accessibility issues yesterday:

textbox not getting in focus properly

links/buttons not changing state when in focus but not hovered

added image descriptions to pictures in French/English

Also added the logos of Twine and SugarCube when the game loads. Those are clickable too.

I have worked a tad more on the UI/missing elements. But not as much as I should have.

Next week, the final update should be out.

This is what I'll be fixing this month. Officially reopened the code files, stared at it, and cried. It's so bad. It's such a mess...

Not looking forward to it, but it needs fixing! (I've asked the Forum for help too in the commands...)

ALSO, I've decided there will be a hyperlink version of this game. Instead of the commands, click on words. It will be in the same file, and you get to choose at the start.

I’ve finished reviewing the EctoComp entries (except the Spanish-only ones because I suck at Spanish...) and have started reviewing the Bare-Bones Jam entry. An updated version of the reviews have been queues on the IFDB and @manonamora-if-reviews. I will probably go back to the IFComp entries after that (probably after the voting deadline... I've done 40 already...).

-_-

I've made a completely new intro post with all of the place I'm at (if you'd rather not be on Tumblr). It was a long time coming, and now I have clear channels of where I'm posting about stuff. Just need to be consistent...

I've also started migrating old dev logs and posts to my blog, especially the longer ones where I have a lot to say. Since the search function and archive on Tumblr is eh, I get to keep the important ones (not all of them are) in a more organised place. They are still on Tumblr, btw. It's not gone, just copied. It's been nice to revisit old dev logs, and see how far I've come (it's been a long way). It's pretty humbling (especially the typos, omg... I fixed so many of those).

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The IFComp and EctoComp, are always looking for players/voters. If you want to play a few short-ish games, take advantage of that! There is only a few days left for the IFComp and a few weeks for the EctoComp.

The @seedcomp-if is always looking for inspiration (text, images, code, etc…) in this current first round. If you have half-baked ideas or anything, really, come submit something!

Over @neointeractives, ShuffleComp! is looking for playlists and participats :)

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And that's it I think...

[ryuichirou]

DID YOU SEE CEREBRUS ORTHO

NOW WE HAVE, ANON. WOW.

This… Is such a cool fucking design; honestly, when it comes to Ortho, Toboso always does the unimaginable. This fucking slaps, this is too cool, too awesome, too freaking hot, we can’t function properly, holy fuck— 🔥🔥🔥😳

It’s also great that there are two more doggies with him (well duh, it’s a Cerberus), they look great! I am also greatful that we are getting an actual Cerberus in this story, I was kinda bummed out that ch6 only gave us a security system named after the dog.

ALSO ALSO I CAN'T BELIEVE I ALMOST FORGOT ABOUT IT, but the fact that this is post-ch.6(duh), which means that this version of Ortho consists human!Ortho!! The first thing this boy does after sort of re-entering realm of living people is this 😭

Human!Ortho's influence was already apparent in the final scenes of the ch.6, we know that he is cheeky and even a little bit of a bully sometimes. Which only makes this version more exciting omg

It was so fun looking at my twitter TL yesterday (and today) because all of the Shroud-centric artists lost their shit and went ballistic, and I truly get it, I really want to draw Cerberus Ortho too… with his niisan, of course 😭