Well… I said all that, but now what?

  After a quick breakfast, taking some supplies and guards with us, we were escorted to the carriage we were now in, while the guards rode behind us on their horses.

  Calling the situation awkward was not doing it justice, really. So, in my infinite grace, excusing both Elowen and me from this situation, I took out one of the books I had grabbed on our way out and was now reading it.

  Or that was the plan. But I couldn’t quite focus on the letters for some reason, as if my brain didn’t understand what it was looking at. I was never dyslexic, so either Valen didn’t know how to bloody read, or I wasn’t yet accustomed to the brain, eyes, and body I was now inhabiting and experiencing this new reality through.

  But then, Elowen broke the uncomfortable silence.

  “Count Valen, a question, if I may.”

  I raised my eyes from my plot-driven book, my light blue gaze meeting her yellow one.

  I hadn’t truly realized it before, but the woman was gorgeous.

  From what I remembered, Elowen was twenty-four when the events of the first volume began, mentioned once or twice in passing when the main character met the Arch-bishop. But now, she was clearly younger. Early twenties, at most. And the way she looked at me, hatred burning openly in her eyes, only made her more striking. The sharp structure of her face, her posture, her body, the tension in her expression at the question she wanted to ask… it was all breathtaking.

  “What is it?” I asked, my voice colder than I’d intended.

  “Why did you force Margrave Thosen into marrying his daughter to you?” she asked, tilting her head slightly. “I saw him, you know. Crying near his carriage before he noticed me.”

  God, this man really was fucking garbage.

  Still, I frowned at her question, frantically searching through the bastard’s memories. “What do you mean?” I asked. “He needed men to deal with issues in his territory. Something about farmers revolting and refusing to pay their taxes.”

  That was the wrong answer.

  Her expression hardened, perhaps wanting this, as she launched into a barrage of accusations, each one sharper than the last. I didn’t interrupt or refute her. She was mostly right, and completely entitled to say all that she wanted to say, even as a dull ache began to form behind my eyes. The bastard's body hated the attacks on his person.

  But then something clicked in my head.

  “There is more,” I said, raising a hand.

  “Oh, please,” she sighed, shaking her head. “Do enlighten me.”

  “He has no male heirs,” I began evenly. “He wanted my protection for next to no compensation while he spent his time sleeping in every brothel and whorehouse he could find, hoping one of the wenches would bastard him a son. You cannot seriously claim that the deal was fair.”

  She frowned. “How do you know all that?”

  Because, miss, I read the novel.

  And, in more or less a year’s time, Margrave Thosen would die from a sexually transmitted disease, leaving Valen as the sole male claimant to his territory, since his eldest daughter was already engaged to him.

  But I couldn’t exactly explain that to Elowen, so I opted for a casual lie.

  “I have my sources.”

  I had none, of course. Valen trusted no one’s information, only what his own eyes saw, a choice that had ultimately led to his downfall.

  “Is that so?” she asked, frowning. “Either way, that does not excuse asking… forgive me, pressuring the man into such a deal.”

  “So I should have instead allowed him to rob me blind?” I sighed, letting my back hit the wooden wall of the carriage. “Tell me, could you explain to the mothers and fathers of soldiers that their sons have died because their Lord was taken for a fool and sent them to their deaths with nothing to show for it?”

  “That is not what I meant. Gold, grain, trade routes, favors… everything would have been better than… what is this, the fourth or fifth marriage alliance you’ve made in two years?”

  Unauthorized duplication: this tale has been taken without consent. Report sightings.

  “Sixth,” I corrected.

  Elowen chuckled, a low, restrained sound that slowly escalated into full-blown laughter. “The Gods have cursed me, alright.”

  Well… touche. But still, ouch.

  Now that I am inhabiting the body, please refrain from such slander. I’m doing my best to fix an unfixable image here, okay? Cut me some slack.

  I ignored the jab and continued, returning to my original point as if she hadn’t insulted me.

  “I have gold aplenty. Grain to feed the entire population for ten years. Trade routes crisscross these lands as densely as in the capital because the people of my territory are well-off. Even the worst commoners here have seen more gold than some merchants in the capital. And favors? From whom? Him? Lord Thosen’s only favors were fish, whores, or his eldest daughter. I’ll leave it to you to decide which was the best option.”

  Brilliant, if I do say so myself.

  I leaned on some knowledge I’d remembered from the novel about Valen’s territory to counter her argument.

  Valen and his dead family, for all intents and purposes, were dogs disguised as humans. But by God Almighty, they knew how to maintain a territory, expanding it to the far limits of the times, keeping the people filthy rich.

  That was why they had remained in power. That was why I still was. The people, despite their fear of Valen, loved his competence. They stayed loyal and, of their own volition, sniffed out rebellions before they could even begin. They knew that if someone else replaced him, they would be taxed to the ends of the earth.

  And for all his antics… for them, Valen was the lesser evil.

  Better to bow their heads than empty their wallets.

  However, it seemed that not even my best explanation could sway Elowen. She was set on hating me.

  “He had more to give,” she muttered quietly. “You just failed to listen.”

  It was clear we wouldn’t see eye to eye. I shook my head with a loud sigh and returned to my book. Fixing this, earning her trust, would take patience. Patience that I was more than willing to give, provided my head stayed intact.

  An hour of silence passed. Using my poor reading skills as cover, I turned inward, trying to piece together Valen’s memories and the events of the novel before Elowen transformed the quiet into another argument.

  Most importantly, I needed to figure out exactly where in the timeline I was. Based on details like Elowen’s apparent age, I might have a fifty/fifty shot, but even a single year off could be disastrous.

  Even trying to deduce that from Margrave Thosen’s health issues and apparent death would be too risky.

  Sexually transmitted diseases do not kill quickly. So it was certain that he already had the sickness that would ultimately kill him.

  No… I hoped for a clearer, safer method to tell me when.

  Then, out of nowhere, from behind us: armor clanking, horses neighing, bodies hitting the ground. Most likely my own guards.

  “Do not move,” a voice shouted from outside the carriage. “If anyone dares to fucking move, cut their throats.”

  Every guard froze. The coachman didn’t flinch.

  “Bandits,” Elowen whispered, managing to watch through a small crack in the wood, “What do we do?”

  I had no clue. I hadn’t fought anyone since high school, and I wasn’t confident in my rusty fighting skills. But before I could formulate an answer, the carriage door flew open.

  “By the Gods…” the first man muttered, staring at Elowen as she became visible inside. “Boys, we hit gold.”

  Another whistled at the first person inside the carriage, then, in unison, they looked at the second. Me.

  My expressionless stare pinned them in place, as if they were disturbing my reading. For a moment, they looked confused at me, then at the sigil on the carriage. Their eyes widened, faces paling at the realization.

  “M-My Lord,” one stammered, bowing before slamming the door shut.

  Outside, the bandits helped the guards to their feet and remounted, apologizing in unison through the carriage walls.

  “Go,” I said sharply, knocking on the wood. The coachman obeyed instantly.

  Once we were moving again, I lifted my eyes from the book to meet Elowen’s gaze. She was bewildered.

  “What is it?” I asked, confused.

  “What... just happened?”

  Truth be told, I was clenching as hard as possible to avoid… my bladder taking control. We were just attacked by Bandits. Murderers. People who laughed while killing innocents. I was bloody terrified.

  But they... they had been staring down a man whose reputation terrified every corner of the kingdom. To them, Valen was a demon. A force of nature.

  Even if they knew him weak, with no Feralium beast at his side, it didn’t matter. Somehow, the man always came out on top in their eyes, as if the world itself moved to his sick desires.

  A load of bullshit, but one that had worked in my favor… this time.

  “Bandits,” I repeated her word with a shrug.

  She frowned at my tone. “And shouldn’t we have stopped them?”

  “No need,” I replied casually, despite my panic. “They’ll turn themselves in by tomorrow morning.”

  “Huh? Why would they?”

  “Because I’ve seen their faces,” I said coldly, again unintentionally. “They remember what happened the last time I remembered someone's face.”

  “And what was that?”

  I smiled, deliberately vague, choosing not to reveal Valen’s darker tendencies, slowly returning to my book.

  Hopefully, nothing else will happen over the next few days of travel. I already had enough to think about. Entering the Conclave Feralium required clear minds and calm hearts.

  Yet, between processing my new reality, trying to calm my bladder, and recalling the novel, I couldn’t stop wondering: what was Elowen thinking when she looked at me? Was I able to change her heart yet? At least in the slightest?

  Unfortunately, I couldn't know. And I sure as hell didn't dare ask.

  So... back to pretending to read we go.