The farewell

Neither of you said a word during the walk to the outskirts of Grant.

Yuna, of course, was very disturbed by the vivid scenes of lust that haunted her thoughts. It was difficult for the young woman to look at her sister without blushing. Jace remained more taciturn than usual, but he gave in to his old habit of effusive goodbyes when he saw the small wooden bridge, a sign that he had finally reached the edge of the region.

You want to take advantage of Jace's departure to put into practice the third phase of the plan: to make Mell a notable figure, talked about in the halls of the nobility and celebrated by the commoners. Constantly eclipsed by Jace's presence and prestige, Mell would not have the opportunity to stand out in deeds or acts of bravery and, even if he were admitted to the select group of royal knights, the lack of popular esteem and support could delay and even hinder the perfect achievement of your plans.

After waving one last time from the other side of the bridge, Jace turned his back on his daughters, without imagining what setbacks would make him extend his stay away from home for well over two weeks. Yana, still weakened by the disconnected and perverse memories that insist on bursting into her mind, seems about to burst into tears, but holds herself back. You squeeze her hand and feel the girl shiver at the contact.

"Come on, sis, it's just the two of us now," you say, "...and Neir, my beautiful and faithful little fox."

"Speaking of which, where did she go? Neir accompanied us for a part of the way and then disappeared," Yana replied, her voice wavering, trying to convey a naturalness that she was far from feeling: when she mentioned Neir's name, she had a brief glimpse of furry ears brushing her nostrils, and the vague memory of her nose running after a crazy urge to sneeze. Or was it not the urge to sneeze, but rather to cry? How else can a runny nose be explained other than as the result of a crying fit? Or maybe it wasn't his runny nose, but something else...

"I sent Neir on a mission," you answer, cutting off Yana's tortuous train of thought, "to rescue some orders, uh, equipment for knights. There are rumors that a new war has been declared and the southern borders need reinforcements. The Recruiters' delegation will soon arrive here in Grant and I intend to follow Neir to the epicenter of the conflict. Trifles, a stupid dispute over infertile territory, but it's on these occasions that a knight makes his name, builds his fame, isn't it? Stop looking at me like that, Yana! Knights earn a fat reward, paid in Gil, privileges and even land in the interior of the Kingdom. It would be the end of our worries about the king's tithe. Father is already getting old to make these long and dangerous journeys and you're still too young to accompany him or replace him in the fishing work. I don't want the same thing that happened to me to happen to you..." You pause. melodramatic and pretending to be overcome by a mixture of revolt, pain and repulsion as you recall your supposed days of captivity "oh, Yana, I will never forget the humiliations and deprivations I suffered at the hands of the **** traders" The words of regret and the silent gestures full of implications, like when you glanced sideways at your own wrists with the faded marks of the chains, had the desired effect. Yana's confusion had, at least momentarily, been dispelled by the detailed (and partially fictional) narration of the violations Mell suffered in prison. For you it was essential to corrupt Yana before Jace's return. Doing so was a matter of presenting yourself not as the executioner, but as the victim, just as Yana, confusedly, was feeling now.