2~2

The days melted into a blur of soft silks, decadent meals, and unsettling quiet. Julian found himself confined within the opulent walls of his assigned chambers, a gilded cage designed to soothe and contain. Servants flitted about, attending to his every need with silent efficiency, offering delicacies he barely tasted and grooming rituals he endured with a detached stoicism. The initial disorientation of his new body had begun to fade, replaced by a simmering restlessness. He spent hours pacing the room, flexing his strengthened muscles, and testing the limits of his newfound agility. The magical energy within him felt like a coiled serpent, eager to strike, but Zefeni had yet to offer any guidance on how to harness it - not that he wanted to face his wife at the moment. Just being around her caused him to lose sensibility and crave to have her under him in an endless rut cycle.

"Gosh damn it to hell and back - how did that spell go?"

Julian swore under his breath, trying to initiate his sister's butterfly spell. He'd never truly gained the comfort of it since it was more distinctly fairy magic. But after a few months of trying when he was younger, he'd managed to tweak the spell for human casting. His little messenger was a shimmering green hummingbird.

A faint shimmer of emerald light flickered around Julian’s outstretched hand, coalescing into a miniature form. It wasn’t the delicate butterfly Eira conjured, but a vibrant, iridescent hummingbird, its wings beating with frantic energy. The spell, though altered for human casting, felt strained and unstable, a pale imitation of its original grace. The hummingbird hovered momentarily, then darted erratically around the room, bumping into furniture and leaving a trail of shimmering dust in its wake. It lacked the purposeful direction and delicate precision of Eira’s butterflies. After a few chaotic loops, it finally settled on Julian’s shoulder, chirping weakly before dissolving into a wisp of green smoke.

Hours bled into one another as Julian relentlessly practiced the modified spell. The initial chaotic bursts of emerald light gradually softened, the hummingbird becoming less erratic in its movements. With each attempt, the creature’s form stabilized, its wings beating with a more controlled rhythm, and the shimmering dust it left behind became less abrasive, more akin to a gentle glow. By the end of his practice, the hummingbird was a miniature marvel, flitting around the room with a newfound grace, its emerald feathers catching the light. It hovered before Julian, chirping softly, a tiny beacon of controlled magic. It was still a far cry from Eira’s elegant butterflies, but it was his creation, a testament to his stubborn determination.

He hastily scribbled a letter to his sister before rolling it incredibly small and tying a twine thread around it.

"Take this to Eira."

He ordered his little bird. The bird seemed to gain the concept but as soon as it reached the window it poofed into green smoke, dropping his letter.

Julian’s carefully crafted message tumbled onto the plush carpet, a tiny scroll amidst the opulent surroundings. The hummingbird, having delivered its charge with a spectacular failure, flickered back into existence, hovering weakly before him, looking decidedly dejected. It chirped apologetically, its emerald glow dimmed.

He scratched his white hair sheepishly.

"To be expected isn't it? I can't go bothering her anymore... I'm the 'big brother' now aren't I?"

Julian sighed.

A shadow fell across Julian’s face, a flicker of regret clouding his features. He knelt, carefully retrieving the miniature scroll, his fingers tracing the delicate script. The weight of his new position, the Duke of Mondbaie, seemed to press down on him, a challenge in its own.

The heavy oak door to Julian’s chambers clicked open, revealing Zefeni standing in the doorway. She leaned against the frame, her arms crossed, a knowing smirk playing on her lips. She was clad in a flowing gown of midnight blue, embroidered with silver thread that shimmered in the dim light.

Julian enveloped the attempted letter in a ball of flames, burning it to ash before dusting his hands lazily.

Zefeni’s eyes followed the destruction of the letter with a cool, assessing gaze. The flames danced around the tiny scroll, consuming it in a flash of azure light, leaving only a wisp of grey ash that Julian carelessly brushed away. She didn't comment on the act, her expression remaining unreadable.

"You look fetching as ever wife. Why are you here?"

Julian muttered.

A delicate laugh escaped Zefeni’s lips, a sound like wind chimes. She pushed herself off the doorframe and glided into the room, her movements graceful and deliberate.

“Always so direct, my Duke.”

She purred, circling him slowly, her gaze sweeping over his form.

“A refreshing change from the simpering courtiers I usually endure.”

She paused behind him, her breath warm against his neck.

“I came to inform you that preparations for the welcoming feast are underway. The neighboring lords and ladies will be arriving within the week, eager to pay their respects to the new Duke and Duchess.”

She trailed a finger down his spine, sending a shiver through him.

“And, of course, to assess your… capabilities.”

"I've no interest in any of that."

Julian frowned.

Zefeni’s fingers stilled on his spine, but she didn’t pull away. She tilted her head, her golden eyes locking onto his.

“Oh, but you must.”

She said, her voice losing some of its playful lilt, gaining an edge of steel.

“It is your duty. As Duke, you are the face of this domain, the embodiment of its power. To shirk your responsibilities would be… unacceptable.”

She stepped closer, her presence radiating a subtle but undeniable pressure.

“Besides...”

She added, her voice dropping to a whisper.

“It will be an excellent opportunity to announce our grand news...”

Her hand slowly rose, tracing the flat of her abdomen expectantly.

Julian’s breath hitched, his eyes widening almost imperceptibly as Zefeni’s hand rested on her abdomen. The implication hung heavy in the air, a subtle yet potent declaration. He hadn’t even considered… the possibility. A cold dread began to creep into his veins, constricting his chest. He hadn’t been given a choice in this marriage, hadn’t been consulted about anything, and the thought of bringing a child into this twisted arrangement sent a wave of frustration through him.

"You have some nerve."

Julian growled out.

Zefeni’s smirk returned, sharper this time, devoid of any warmth. She didn’t flinch at his growl, her gaze unwavering.

“Nerve?”

She echoed, her voice laced with amusement.

“My dear Duke, I have everything. I am the Duchess Zefeni Mond, and you… you are bound to me.”

She tightened her grip on his arm, her nails digging lightly into his skin.

“Do not mistake my generosity for weakness. I have given you purpose, power, a life beyond anything you could have imagined. And in return, I expect… obedience. Especially now that I carry your precious cargo in my womb.”

"There's no way that child is mine. We've lain together but once and it's been only a few days since."

He responded calmly.

Zefeni’s eyes narrowed, the golden hue darkening to a predatory amber. Her grip on his arm tightened, the pressure now bordering on painful. A dangerous stillness settled over her, a stark contrast to her previous playful demeanor.

“Do not insult my intelligence, Julian.”

Zefeni’s voice was a silken threat, each word carefully measured.

“My powers are… considerable. Time flows differently for beings like myself. A few days are irrelevant. The seed has been sown, and it will bloom.”

She released his arm, stepping back to survey him with a chilling detachment.

“Consider it a blessing, a proof of your virile… usefulness. An heir to secure the Mondbaie lineage.”

She paused, a cruel smile twisting her lips.

“Or, perhaps, a convenient bargaining chip.”

“A sentimental request.”

She murmured, as if speaking to herself.

“Very well. Your sister, Eira, is… accessible. Though her presence here would be… disruptive.”

She paused, tapping a manicured nail against her chin.

“As for your aunt, she is currently engaged in delicate negotiations with those snobbish elves. A visit would be… impractical.”

She turned and began to pace the room, her gown swirling around her like a dark cloud.

“I suppose a brief encounter with your sister could be arranged. A supervised one, of course. She will be informed of your… elevated status, and reminded of her place.”

She stopped, her gaze locking onto Julian’s.

“Do not mistake this as a gesture of kindness, Duke. It is a calculated move. A show of generosity to quell any… discontent. And to keep your family in check.”

"When - "

Before Julian could finish his question, Zefeni raised a slender hand, cutting him off. Her expression was unyielding, her voice firm.

“Tomorrow afternoon. In the rose garden. A small gathering. Myself, you, and your sister.”

She stated, her tone leaving no room for negotiation.

“I trust you will conduct yourself with decorum. Remember, you are the Duke now. Act the part...”

~

As the following day came, Eira stood before a full body mirror with her wings fluttering, dimly lit to showcase her distress. She dressed herself accordingly in the green and white dress she had purchased three years ago for the lantern festival. With proper maintenance, it's just like the shopkeeper had stated. It was truly an investment, one well worth it to grow with her over time.

"Do I look the part, Hale?"

Her tone falling short toward Halston. She'd learned quite a bit of etiquette in her five years at the academy of Ad Laera~ but who's to say it'd be anywhere on par with the expectations of nobility.

Halston, leaning against the doorframe, offered a gentle smile. His ruby red eyes softened as he took in Eira’s appearance, the green and white dress accentuating her delicate features. He noted the slight tremor in her wings, the subtle distress clouding her usually bright blue eyes. He pushed himself off the frame, approaching her slowly.

"You are a vision to behold."

He murmured softly.

Halston’s words were a soft murmur, barely audible above the rustle of Eira’s wings. He stopped a few feet away, his gaze lingering on her face, a quiet admiration radiating from him. He didn't reach out, respecting the space she needed, but his presence was a comforting anchor.

Eira was stoic, her gaze darkened to a settled violet. Peering at her grimoire holstered to her side, grazing it's leather panel with her touch.

"It's a shame you can't join, I could really use the support... your restraint..."

She sighed, finally turning to face him.

Halston’s expression shifted, a shadow crossing his features. He knew she wasn’t referring to a simple desire for companionship. Eira’s words hinted at a deeper unease, a fear of the situation she was about to face, and a longing for his protective strength. He clenched his jaw, fighting the urge to disregard his orders and accompany her.

"Don't give me that look, I can handle myself... I just, hope I don't lash out is all.."

Eira murmured softly, smoothing out any invisible wrinkles in her dress.

Halston nodded, his face a mask of neutrality as he absorbed her words. He understood the weight of her concern. Eira was not one to shy away from difficult situations, but the tension of the unknown and the potential for political drama could strain even her formidable self-control.

Halston leaned in, grabbing her chin between his thumb and forefinger before pressing his lips against hers.

Halston's sudden movement caught Eira off guard, her violet eyes widening for a split second before her eyelids fluttered shut. The kiss was firm, yet tender, a silent promise that he would be there for her, even when he couldn't physically stand by her side.

He pulled back slightly, his ruby eyes searching hers, conveying a silent reassurance.

“You are more than capable, Eira. But remember… choose your battles.”

He released her chin, stepping back to allow her to have space.

"I've already informed mother... so auntThaline has a lot to answer for."

Eira murmured followed by a sigh. Halston was correct though, and she needed to go in open minded whilst still cautious.

"You're right... but know, my brother means a lot to me, even if I give him hell. If he's in danger..."

Halston’s jaw tightened at the mention of Thaline. He knew the Dragoon Captain's ambition and unwavering dedication to duty, but he also sensed a ruthlessness that worried him, especially concerning Julian. He offered Eira a reassuring nod, his gaze set for her departure...