<Duke’s Mansion, Early Morning>
The air in the bathing chamber was warm, the scent of lavender and herbs lingering in the steam that rose from the water. Aeliana sat still in the large, ornate tub, her slender form submerged to the shoulders as she endured the gentle ministrations of the maids. The water swirled softly around her, its heat soothing the ever-present ache in her muscles, but her mind was far from at ease.
The maids moved with practiced precision, their hands working carefully to cleanse her without hesitation. Their eyes, however, remained closed, as per her explicit instructions. They had learned early on that to disobey this rule—to so much as glance at her skin—was to face her wrath, a punishment no one dared provoke.
Aeliana’s fingers gripped the edges of the tub, her knuckles pale against the polished porcelain. The sound of water sloshing and the soft murmur of the maids’ movements filled the room, but she could sense their unease, even if they tried to hide it. They always did.
“Turn your head slightly, my lady,” one of the maids said, her tone neutral, her hands poised to rinse Aeliana’s hair. Aeliana complied without a word, tilting her head back as warm water poured gently over her dark tresses. The maids avoided her skin as much as possible, their hands brushing her hair and robes only when absolutely necessary.
Another maid reached for a soft cloth and began to scrub Aeliana’s arms, her motions delicate yet thorough. The heat of the water made the marks on Aeliana’s skin more visible beneath the surface—the blackened lines, the cracked and uneven texture that marred her once-perfect complexion. Even with their eyes closed, the maids could feel the texture beneath their fingers, but they dared not react.
Aeliana’s lips pressed into a thin line, her jaw tightening as she watched them work. “Do it quickly,” she said coldly, her voice cutting through the quiet. The maids flinched slightly but nodded, their hands moving more briskly.
“Yes, my lady,” one replied softly, her voice wavering just enough to betray her nerves.
When the bath was done, the maids guided her out of the tub with care, their eyes still tightly shut as they wrapped her in a thick, embroidered towel. Aeliana allowed them to pat her dry, her movements stiff and deliberate as she tried to avoid their touch. The heat of the bath lingered on her skin, mingling with the prickling discomfort of being exposed, even if no one could see her.
The comb moved through her damp hair in steady, rhythmic strokes, the sound oddly soothing. For a moment, Aeliana closed her eyes, letting herself sink into the sensation. But it didn’t last. Her thoughts clawed at her, relentless and cruel.
‘This is who I’ve become,’ she thought, her hands clenching the fabric of the towel tightly. ‘A creature so pitiful that I can’t even bear to let them see me.’
After drying her, the maids moved with efficient precision, fetching the simple garments that made up Aeliana’s wardrobe. The clothes were plain—unadorned blouses and skirts, chosen for their practicality rather than elegance. Aeliana had long abandoned the elaborate silks and embroidered gowns that once defined her station. What was the point, when no one could see them beneath her ever-present veil and robe?
The first maid helped her into the blouse, the fabric soft but functional, slipping over her shoulders with practiced ease. The second maid adjusted the skirt, fastening it securely at her waist. Their hands were quick, careful, and deliberately impersonal. Their eyes remained shut, their expressions neutral, as though willing themselves to become invisible.
Aeliana watched them silently, her jaw tightening with every moment. She hated this—hated the necessity of their hands on her, of their presence in her most vulnerable moments. But she said nothing, her pride and her shame locking the words in her throat.
When the final button was fastened, the maids stepped back in unison, bowing their heads slightly as they waited for her next instruction. Aeliana turned away from them, reaching for the thick, dark robe that hung over a nearby chair. She draped it over her shoulders, the heavy fabric settling around her like a second skin. The veil came last, its soft material brushing against her face as she adjusted it carefully to ensure no trace of her skin was visible.
The maids waited silently until she turned back to them, her veiled figure now completely concealed. “You may go,” she said curtly, her voice cold and detached.
“Yes, my lady,” they replied in unison, their heads bowing once more before they quietly exited the room.
For a moment, Aeliana stood in the silence, her hands clutching the edges of her robe. Her heart was heavy, her breaths slow and deliberate as she tried to steady herself. The bath had done little to ease the ache in her body or the weight on her mind.
A knock at the door broke her reverie.
“My Lady, are you ready?” a voice called from the other side. It was steady, polite, and unmistakably familiar.
Madeleina. Her attendant and the one tasked with overseeing her during the expedition.
Aeliana’s fingers curled around the edge of her robe. “Enter,” she said, her voice measured but edged with weariness.
The door opened, and Madeleina stepped inside. Her presence was calm and composed, her uniform pristine and her demeanor professional. Her gaze swept over Aeliana briefly, her expression giving away nothing as she regarded the veiled figure before her.
“The preparations are complete,” Madeleina said, clasping her hands in front of her. “The carriage is ready, and the knights have been briefed. I trust you are prepared as well?”
Aeliana nodded once, her movements slow and deliberate. “I am,” she replied, her tone clipped.
“Very well,” Madeleina said. “If you require anything further before we depart, now is the time.”
“I require nothing,” Aeliana said, her voice firm. “Let us go.”
Madeleina nodded, stepping aside to hold the door open. Aeliana straightened her posture, adjusting the folds of her robe one final time before stepping forward. Her steps were steady, but each one felt heavier than the last, the weight of anticipation and trepidation bearing down on her.
The corridor stretched ahead, lined with servants who bowed their heads as she passed. They didn’t look at her, didn’t dare lift their eyes, and Aeliana was both grateful and resentful for their deference.
This was it. Her first step outside the confines of her room in years, even if it was only to watch from afar. It wasn’t freedom, not truly—but it was something. And for now, it would have to be enough.
********
Lucavion arrived at the designated gathering place, a sprawling open courtyard near Stormhaven’s harbor. The air buzzed with tension and energy as dozens of individuals milled about, their armor and weapons gleaming under the afternoon sun.
His sharp eyes swept over the crowd, noting the variety of personnel gathered. Adventurers in mismatched gear exchanged stories and adjusted their equipment, their expressions a mix of excitement and unease.
Mercenaries stood in tight-knit groups, their stances radiating practiced confidence. Soldiers from the Duke’s household, clad in uniformed armor, moved with disciplined precision as they lined up in formation. Among them were mages, their robes marked with arcane symbols, speaking quietly among themselves as faint traces of mana shimmered around them. Stay tuned to empire
Lucavion adjusted his coat as he stepped closer, his presence unnoticed by most but drawing a few curious glances from those who felt the quiet intensity he carried.
[Quite the gathering,] Vitaliara remarked, her glowing form perched lightly on his shoulder. [Everyone looks so prepared.]
Prepared, but for what? Lucavion thought, his dark eyes narrowing slightly as he observed the assembly.
A raised platform at the front of the courtyard caught his attention. Standing atop it was a tall man in ornate armor bearing the Duke’s crest—a golden trident crossed with a sword. His commanding presence left little doubt that he was an officer of high rank.
‘Captain Edran….You certainly know how to look cool.’
As if on cue, the murmurs of the crowd quieted. The officer raised a hand, his voice cutting through the air with practiced authority. “Members of the expedition, hear me!”
The gathered crowd fell silent, their attention focused on the platform.
“Our mission is critical,” Edran began, his tone steady and deliberate. “The monsters we face have infested the sea trading routes, threatening the lifeblood of our region’s commerce and stability. This is not a simple hunt—it is a battle to secure our survival and prosperity.”
Lucavion listened intently, his dark eyes gleaming faintly as he caught the subtle weight behind Edran’s words.
“As you all know,” Edran continued, “sea warfare is vastly different from land warfare. The terrain is unpredictable, and the battles chaotic. Fighting on shifting waters adds layers of difficulty even for the most experienced among us.”
Lucavion noted the flickers of doubt in some faces, contrasted with the calm resolve in others.
“But well, that is the case for a normal place. There is a reason, we, Duchy of Thaddeus, is the strongest naval force in the entire world.”