The Vampire & Her Witch

"Cruelty?" Jocelynn said, blinking in surprise as she turned away from the courtyard for the first time since Isabell had arrived to truly look at the other woman. In her hand, her teacup clattered lightly against the saucer on the table as she set it down. "Do you really, really see him that way?" she asked hesitantly.

After hearing how Isabell had fought in a brutal civil war for the right to bring her husband away from the court of the Emerald King, Jocelynn had hoped that Isabell would understand Owain better than anyone else. After all, Isabell had fought in just as many battles or perhaps even more battles than Owain had, and she still chose a life of love with the man who won her heart with poetry. If Isabell could do that, then... couldn’t Owain do the same?

"Cruel, ruthless and ambitious," Isabell said without sugar coating her words in the slightest. If she was going to make sure Jocelynn understood the danger she was in, Isabell couldn’t afford to leave any grey areas or doubts in the young woman’s mind.

"He reminds me of the men in the Emerald King’s court who thought he should follow his victory with a campaign of expansion," the engineer continued. "They wanted to turn on a vulnerable neighbor and resolve a centuries old dispute over a border with the might of the army the king assembled to win the civil war."

"Surely Owain is different," Jocelynn said. After all, those men were fighting their neighbors while Owain was fighting demons. Even though he was still fighting to expand his lands, he was also fighting a just and holy cause instead of one motivated solely by ambition and greed. That had to make him different.

"Did those men fight in the war themselves?" Jocelynn asked. "Or were they like the knights in Father’s court who dream of a chance to win glory in the next crusade without ever having fought in a battle before? Owain is like this because he throws himself into battle against the demons every year," she said in a voice that grew steadier with each word. "That’s very different from most men."

"No one came through that war unscathed," Isabell said sadly after sipping her tea. "I don’t call Owain cruel because he’s an extraordinary fighter who can slaughter many demons," Isabell said. "I call him cruel because, even in training, he fights his own men the way he fights demons," she said, pointing at the men who were helping each other to limp away from the courtyard after Owain’s beating.

"I call him cruel because when I’ve looked into his eyes," Isabell said, recalling all the times she’d faced Owain across the negotiating table in Blackwell City and ever since then. "I see a man who sleeps too well for someone who brutalizes his men this much. I’ve known other men who slept peacefully after battles where hundreds or thousands of men lost their lives... I call them cruel as well."

"And you?" Jocelynn asked hesitantly. "Did you sleep well after battles?"

"Not once," Isabell said, picking up a rich, buttery pastry topped with chopped nuts and nibbling on it slowly. "It wasn’t until we’d been fighting for months that I could get through a battle without emptying my stomach. The nightmares that followed," she said softly as her gray eyes grew clouded. "Those lasted for years, even after I returned home. If Casquas hadn’t been there for me... I might never have known a peaceful night’s sleep again."