Master of Minds, Master of Me

Okay. Once again. Last night didn’t go as I planned. I should convince my pretty flower to marry me, not scare her away by acting like that. I thought that after Theodore’s visit I would be calmer. I think I was, for like a couple of hours. I know that the part illusion mana draws out is a part of the real me. Some part I just want to press down, to keep hidden. And I don’t think that I can solely blame the illusion mana for my behaviour. I think that it’s her that makes me act like this. She is the one who draws that dark part of me to the surface, and illusion mana just makes me act on it, not able to resist.

I was planning to tell her the truth about me being Father Owen, hoping she wouldn’t be too mad about it. Hoping she would just realize that if she enjoyed Father Owen’s company, it only meant that she enjoyed my company. Since everything that I said while being a priest was my honest opinion. I talked to her just like I would while being me. I just toned down how I said things, but the context was still the same.

But once again, just imagining her inside the confession booth, trying to ask forgiveness for what we did yesterday… Goddammit, I really can’t contain myself with her at all. I really just hope that she isn’t so angry with me. I really don’t want my sexual desires to ruin my relationship with her. I mean, she did confess that she likes it rough, and it was pretty clear from her body alone. But all this is still so new to her, so I don't know what she thinks about it all when her mind is not consumed by lust.

I watch her sleeping next to me. I brought her back to my room yesterday, saying that the barrier in hers wasn’t ready, so it wasn’t safe for her to be there yet. That was of course a lie. But I just wanted her to stay longer. Since today we are getting back to the normal rhythm, I can’t see her that much anymore. If I could decide, I would just lock her up in my room. I really just hope that she comes to see me in our garden like she promised. Since I’m now back, I will have a group meeting with all the candidates tomorrow. Something I would rather skip. And tomorrow my present to my pretty flower arrives too. She is going to love it. I really did come up with the perfect gift.

I should get up. To get to work. But I don’t want to. I want to be here. It feels like I belong here, next to her. I really don’t know what I’m going to do if she doesn’t change her mind about being my Queen. I give a kiss on her forehead and force myself up, and head toward the shower. My dick is rock hard, no surprises there. Would jerking off in the shower while she sleeps in the next room be a horrible thing to do? But on the other hand, if I don’t, I might not be able to resist the urge to shove my dick inside her. And that is something I really don’t want to force her to experience without her consent. I have my morals too. They might not be very strict, but they are morals nevertheless.

Luckily, my pretty flower still sleeps peacefully when I get back from the shower. I fetch my clothes and start putting them on. As I slide my belt on, I notice my pretty flower’s mind getting lecherous. Two options: she is having a dirty dream, or she woke up and is watching me. I hope it’s the latter. I fasten the belt, slowly. Just in case she is watching. I take my shirt and slide my hands through the sleeves.

“I wasn’t aware that my pretty flower was also a peeper,” I say without turning around, shooting my shot.

I feel her mind getting embarrassed, and I can’t stop myself from smiling. I turn around to face her, but she pretends to be asleep. I button my shirt as I walk toward her.

“Pretending to sleep? You should know that would not work on me, you little peeper.”

She just lifts the blanket to cover her pretty face.

“I’m not a peeper!”

I chuckle at her, so cute.

“Peep all you want, pretty flower. I don’t mind.”

She turns around, facing her back toward me. I sit on the edge of the bed.

“Are you still angry?”

She stays silent, and that silence feels like a minor stab in my chest.

“I’m sorry for lying to you. But at that time I didn’t know that things would go this far. I didn’t know I would fall this hard for you. And when I realized how strong my feelings are, it was just too late to back out of it all. Our mornings together were far too important to me. I didn’t want to risk ending them by telling the truth.”

“Why did you decide to tell me now?” Her voice is muffled since she is still buried under the blanket.

“Because I thought there would be a chance that you would like to spend the mornings with the real me now. That you might start to enjoy my company so much that I could replace Father Owen.”

She stays silent. I can’t read her mind at all. It’s so full of mixed emotions that I can’t really pick up on any of them specifically. I want to just hear her voice. I don’t care if she yells at me. Anything would be better than silence. I don’t like silence at all.

“Are you only angry about me lying to you, or also about what I did to you yesterday at the church?”

All I get is silence. I guess I need to give her time to sort out her thoughts. I need to be patient with her. I don’t want to, but I have to. I don’t want to scare her away any more than I might already have.

“I need to go back to work. There are still many things to deal with. But your room is now ready. So if you want, you can go back there. All the candidates still have a free day today, so you can relax. If you want, you can stay here too.”

“I go to my room.”

A little bigger stab. But that was expected. She needs to do what she is the most comfortable with. And I honestly can’t blame her for wanting to get away from me. I can be pretty annoying company sometimes. And I really haven’t been that gentle with her. But I will step up. I can be someone more suitable for her.

“Milna will bring you breakfast and escorts you back after that. I will wait for you in our garden every day after dinner.”

No answer. But she promised yesterday that she will come to see me. She didn’t say how often, so I don’t know if she is planning to visit every day. I just hope she will. I lower the blanket only so that I can see her forehead and lean to give a kiss to it.

“See you later, pretty flower. I miss you already.”

I wait for a moment, hoping she will answer. But she doesn’t, so I force my body up and head toward the door. I place a note and a pawn on the table. I glance at her before closing the door.

Okay. I need to get my mind back to work. It’s still unknown how that assassin got in. He wasn’t part of the staff here. So he must have come through the gates. The thing I hate the most is the fact that he might have been after my pretty flower and not me. Since no one knew I was at the Palace, but she visited the garden every single day while I was gone. So there really is a possibility that Lo was working with the enemies. That would explain her hatred toward me at the beginning, her need to avoid me. And of course, it would explain how she knew about the ambush at the canyon and Hilver invading. So when the ambush failed, they probably knew it was Lo who told me about it. So it would make sense that they would want to get rid of her and send an assassin for her before she could spill out any more vital information.

That’s why I wanted Theodore to make that barrier. I want her to be safe at night too. And I will assign her one guard to protect her during the day too. Someone sneaky enough that she doesn't notice. I don’t want her to be bothered by knowing about it. She would most definitely not accept that. But her safety is the most important thing right now.

Her being on the enemy's side makes sense in many ways. But I just can’t understand why she would be so devoted to God if she was on the enemy's side. And she really doesn’t seem like someone conspiring treason. Of course, there is the possibility that someone is blackmailing her to cooperate. That seems more likely. And she herself thinks that she is a bad person, so that makes sense too if she is with the enemy.

And if the assassin really was after me, that means that there is someone inside the Palace leaking knowledge. Someone who noticed that I came back. And the first one that comes to my mind is Florentia. I know her letters back home have been all just nonsense. But I can’t just shake the bad feeling about her. It’s the same bad feeling I had about going to fight Hilver with a small army since Duke Callum agreed with it. And I was right about that one, so I trust that I’m right about this one too. But Theodore has been watching her, so there shouldn't have been a chance to do anything. Of course, there have been times Theodore hasn’t watched her. Like during building the evacuation site or when she was helping to kill those bastards from Hilver. So when I got back yesterday, it’s possible that Florentia was out there somewhere and saw me.

I open my office door and see Ted already waiting for me.

“Your Highness. You really should treat your hand before starting to work.”

“Oh, how lovely for you to worry about me like that, Ted. But I already got the best treatment I could ever have.” My mood rises only at the thought of my pretty flower patching me up.

“I asked from the physician, and he said that you never visited him.”

“I didn’t. Someone else patched me up.”

“Who?”

“My guardian angel.” I smile innocently.

“Your Highness. I really don’t understand your humor. Go see Doctor Freyland.”

“If I do, will you stop nagging?”

“Yes, Your Highness.”

I exhale heavily and exit the room. I’m sure my pretty flower patched me well enough. I really didn’t pay attention to what she did. I just trust her. So I just go there, show my hand, and convince the physician that I don’t need any other treatment. Since I don’t want anyone to touch something that my pretty flower did.

I knock on Doctor Freyland’s door.

“Come in!”

“Morning Frey!”

“Good morning, Your Highness. I’m glad you came, please show me your hand.”

I stretch out my hand to him. “It’s already treated, so there is nothing to worry about. Ted is just fussing over nothing.”

“Wounds are never nothing, Your Highness. And it’s my duty to make sure they are treated perfectly.”

He unwraps my bandage, and the stitched wound is now visible. I’m not an expert, but now that I look at it, it looks very neat.

“Who did this?”

I smile. “My guardian angel. Why do you ask?”

“Of course you are not required to tell me who it was. But whoever it was clearly knew what he was doing. It’s done perfectly.”

Well, of course it was. My pretty flower is perfect.

“I told you that there is nothing to worry about.”

“I guess you were right about that. I’ll wrap it up again. But I will come check on it every day. We need to make sure it doesn’t get infected.”

“Sure.”

“Relay my thanks to whoever treated you. He really must have much experience patching wounds.”

“You think so?”

“Yes. Of course anyone can stitch with little knowledge. But in your wound there is even, precise spacing, the wound edges meet neatly with no overlapping or puckering. The technique minimizes the tension across the wound, which is crucial when wanting minimal scarring. The knotting is just right, secure, but not bulky.”

“I had no idea that stitching could be that complicated. And it was a she, not a he.”

He looks at me with surprise on his face.

“She? It’s rare for a woman to have experience in treating wounds like these. Not even nurses do stitches. Was she someone who has been in a warzone perhaps?”

“No. Why do you think so?”

“Well, if women participate in taking care of the wounded, it’s usually during wars when there are not enough doctors to treat all the wounded.”

I furrow my brows. I did wonder to myself where she learned to treat wounds like that. Her answer about it being because of voluntary work was clearly a lie. But a war? There really hasn't been a war after the dark war eight years ago. And she was only 11 years old back then. So it can’t be that. It could be a war in another country, but she said that she has never been abroad.

But now that I think about it. She wasn’t startled at all by the dead man in the garden. I think any noble woman would be at least a little nervous or scared about seeing a dead person and blood spilling out. But she didn’t mind at all. So clearly that means she has seen corpses before.

I bid my farewell and head back to my office with a messed-up mind. My pretty flower is such a big mystery that it's impossible to try to figure things out. She thinks that she is a bad person, she knows about enemy movements, she is seeking God’s help for something, something she has to do over and over again. It’s like having pieces of a puzzle, but nothing to connect them.

Well, luckily I have the rest of our lives to complete that puzzle.