Her stepbrother is there

He stood at the edge of the clearing, a ridiculous figure in his stained alchemist's robes, spectacles perched on his nose. He looked like he'd just stumbled out of a dusty library, not onto a battlefield.

"Raphael," I purred, "have you come to offer yourself as a sacrifice? A rather meager one, I'd say, even for these backwater heathens." My gaze dropped, sweeping over his form, lingering pointedly on the bulge… or lack thereof.

His cheeks flushed, a faint red spreading across his pale skin. He clutched a small, ornate box in his hand, his knuckles white. "This isn't about sacrifice. This is about balance. You've gone too far. Mother wouldn't approve."

I threw my head back, a cackle tearing from my throat. The sound echoed against the silence of the terrified villagers. "Mother? Yovanna cares only for pleasure, Raphael. And my conquest brings only hurt. I am and always will be above her and… well obviously you.” I took a step toward him, my voice dropping, laced with venom. "Besides, what could *you* possibly do? You, with your little potions and your even littler… *everything*?" I gestured vaguely at his groin, a cruel smile twisting my lips.

His jaw tightened. He didn't look away, though. A flicker of something, defiance perhaps, sparked in his eyes. "My intellect is my weapon, Stanna.”