For as long as memory serves me, I have often found myself confined to bed, unable to rise even for the most basic functions. At times, I lacked the strength or will to reach for the bedpan, succumbing instead to the indignity of soiling myself in sleep, losing control of my bowels during bouts of coughing, or from the sudden surge of pain coursing through other parts of my weakened form. I had grown accustomed to the sight of those entering my chamber only to be met with the foul stench, often covering their noses in disgust—even poor Fermina—forced to summon a retinue of maids who would lift me from the mire of my own making, cleanse me, change my linens, and replace my soiled garments. Though familiarity had dulled the sting of the experience, it never ceased to humiliate me.

  Such were but a few of the ignominies I had endured. Though there was no pride in it, I had thought myself resilient to such degradations, accustomed as I was to a life riddled with indignities. Perhaps, I had overestimated my fortitude.

  Even in that hollow existence, a mockery of life itself, barely clinging to the edge of vitality—wretched though it was—I clung to a certain pride in what I represented. I endeavored to conceal my pain from others, resisting the urge to weep in their presence. I held my impotent frustrations within, using my research as an outlet for my anguish. And even in my decrepit state, marred by decay and torment, I still dared to call myself a Lord of a noble house. I was the Baron of Stratna, and though bedridden and defiled by my own body’s failings, I commanded respect. One word from my mouth could unravel the fate of any attendant who dared displease me—though I had never wielded that power unjustly.

  Yet all of that pride crumbled to dust in the presence of Tirrha Lunatora. Never had I felt so debased, so utterly stripped of human dignity. Frivolous as it might seem, I harbored more resentment for what that little Lady had coerced me into than for what that maverick, Chelyo, had stolen from us and nearly inflicted upon Princess.

  “What’s wrong, Dubart? You seem a bit down. Oh! Do not tell me! Are you finally seeing why I did not want you to seek out Tirrha’s help?” Princess taunted with an air of smugness.

  “There is no need for sarcasm.” I shifted my attention from the hand mirror to the wall’s reflection instead. Lady Lunatora had refrained from endowing us dignified clothing, though she had deemed it fit to grant us our own chamber for rest. “It was never my intention for you to endure such treatment. I can do nothing now but offer you my deepest apologies, Aufelia,” I admitted with a heavy heart. “To say that my estimation of Lady Lunatora—that… woman—was erroneous would be a gross understatement. As soon as we return to Highsummit Manor, I shall compose a letter addressed to my father. We must find a way to ensure it is read and believed to be from me. It shall detail Lady Lunatora’s sickening behavior towards my caretakers. She must face the consequences.”

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  “What!?” Princess’s voice rang within my mind in disbelief. “Dubart, what are you saying?”

  “I am speaking of the unacceptable treatment you have been subjected to at the hands of that despicable, perverted woman. It is my duty to put an end to it.” Peering into our shared eyes, our fists clenched with righteous fury.

  Princess, however, found fault with my resolution. “No! Dubart, you can’t be serious! No, I won’t let you! W-why would you do something like that to Tirrha? And after she helped us!”

  “Even prisoners of war are afforded a certain dignity, especially nobles. The Old Graison Code demands it!” I countered, my indignation swelling. “That woman has… violated us.”

  “Don’t be so dramatic. What do you have to complain about? You got touched by a pretty girl. She spanked us a little, so what? It was on my head she stepped on and my body she demanded to see and inspect.”

  “Yes, just as the vilest prisoners from the most infamous dungeons are searched for contraband in their orifices!” I retorted, my grip tightening until our knuckles turned white. “Such treatment is abhorrent! When has a noble Lady ever been subjected to such an indignity? Aufelia, this was a crime.”

  “No, it wasn’t! It’s… not even the first time she’s done this,” Princess casually admitted, much to my horror. “I know our relationship is not exactly conforming to the norm, but I had you promise you wouldn’t judge us.”

  I did not recall ever giving such a promise, but at that moment, it was irrelevant. “She has subjected you to these humiliations? Regularly? Under the roof of my family’s esteemed and ancestral home?” My alarm grew with each word.

  “Calm down, Dubart. It is not as bad as it looks, or even bad at all. Tirrha and I… we were not hurting anyone, and it was in the privacy of either her chambers or somewhere empty. It is not a crime, do you understand? We were just… playing. Weird games.”

  It dawned on me then, painfully clear though I had refused to acknowledge it, since entertaining the possibility would have been a grave insult to Princess. She had not protested once during our ordeal insisting instead that I follow every command given. There could only be one explanation.

  “You derive pleasure from such… activities,” I ventured cautiously, choosing my words with care. “You enjoy… that sort of treatment.”

  “Not just from anyone!” Princess was quick to defend herself. “If you had made me do that, I would have gone straight to Lord Duke Archiments and told him his son had lost his mind. It’s just… Tirrha. No one else.”

  I was not so obtuse as to fail to grasp the profound embarrassment this revelation caused Princess. At the start of our conversation, she had even feigned disgust at what had transpired. This was not my place, and I had no right to interfere. Peculiar though it was, I had encountered far stranger customs in the literature I had devoured throughout my life.

  “Oh,” I muttered, piecing together the disjointed fragments. “I understand.” Princess sighed in relief within the recesses of my mind, offering no further elaboration. “So, I suppose there is no issue with what occurred in that chamber. We are to move past it.”

  “Yes,” she answered, her tone gentle. “I would appreciate that.”

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