Yes. Early Years, Part 1

Your first memories are fuzzy and disorganized as could be expected of a baby. Each of your moms were surrounding the crib, cooing, poking at your nose and chins while you feebly attempted to grab a hold of their probing fingers with your tiny hand while you made angry gurgling noises. Then they were insisting that you not wet the floor and instead use a tiny chamber pot. Another was when you woke up from a nightmare, climbing out of the crib to crawl over to their bed and under their covers for comfort. It was all very embarrassing especially when the extent of your communication were gurgles, shouts and excessive, imprecise hand gestures leading to otherwise avoidable accidents.

Figuring out walking had been an especially hard challenge, but one day you were confidently striding toward one of your ****-mother's open arms. Clearing that hurdle with a lot of praise and rewarded with a chance to nuzzling up into her slightly furred chest. Feeling warm and safe, even with feeling cat-mom's claws wrapped around you. She was a Monster Girl that mother had claimed after defeating her and her army in combat during the last Demon Lord's invasion. Finding common ground and even respect which later blossomed through their exchanges on the battlefield and outside it.

Usually marriages between monsters and the civilized races were frowned upon - although keeping them as slaves, or more accurately pets, wasn't - but the Marcher Lords protecting the empire's borders were an odd and independent lot and Leona al Rhiren-Alician wasn't an exception.

Since you loved her, none of that mattered and you thought the golden slitted eyes you had inherited from Clawdia were the prettiest part of your new body. Also owing your striking angular facial features to her. In second place came the pointed ears from Leona. During your childhood you had spent too much time playing with the sensitive and flexible organs, losing hours to looking in the mirror as you used them to catapult your ashen locks when they sprung back into place after you had bent them. While you were slightly pudgy with baby fat at this point, the start of the harsh training regime to finely hone your body still a few years away, there were hints of the lithe, long limbed and athletic young woman you'd eventually grow into.

You had taken surprisingly easy to not only being a child, but also thinking and acting like one for the most part and despite the actual age difference, happily playing with children around the age you were supposed to be. Not that there were that many, being fairly isolated on the borders of the empire. It didn't inhibit your learning however, once you had a firm grasp of the simple words from the fairy-tale books and could form them without lisping too much, it quickly expanded from there. Earning you the favor of your third and final mother.

The marriage between Orianna and Leona had been one of convenience rather than love. You could tell she longed to be in the thick of intrigue, weaving her charms both natural and of the spell variety to plot and scheme as she made her ascent through the Empress' court. So far as you understood, the addition of Clawdia had eased a lot of the tension since there was someone else now to keep her wife company, letting her focus on socializing with the lesser lords and important figures in Leona's fiefdom and maintaining contacts and alliances outside of it.

Whenever she visited and insisted upon teaching you proper etiquette, history, poetry and sometimes sneaking in a simple cantrip, you always paid extra attention and made an effort to impress her.

Instead much of your education was left to tutors, with you almost always outpacing their intended lesson plan. Part of that education was instruction in swordsmanship, Leona or Clawdia taught these as often as they could. Whenever they picked up one of the training swords, their jovial and boisterous attitudes were replaced with that of a stern taskmaster, punishing each mistake in your footwork and stance with a bruise. More than once you cried afterwards and not just because of the pain of your aching muscles. It was a stark reminder that you were an heir to a Marcher Lord and the expectations that came with it.

Between everything, you barely had any time to think about your strange encounter with the goddess over your first few years of living your new life. Even convincing yourself that it was only part of your imagination or a dream often for months at a time as you lost yourself in your new, mostly satisfying and happy existence.

Your life took a sharp turn once you turned 10 and knights sent from the capital on the Empress orders came to take you away as a political hostage.