Biyu and May were a week away from the Order of Ruthless Sundering, and they were making good time. They had plenty of supplies, the roads were clear, the weather was fine, and they met no bandits. Lady Chelsea was with the oxcarts of her entourage, bound by duty to lead them. Anton was with her, of course, even though they could keep up with May and Biyu easily. They had been granted permission to go ahead of the retinue, but Sir Stuart, selected by elimination, was escorting them. The stalwart man was the only one who had volunteered. Sir Leon was adamant about not being alone with Biyu, Sir Richard was indifferent, and Lady Chelsea was not allowed to leave her escort behind.

  Biyu had elected to forgo her mask, although she had a veil handy if she needed it. Being able to reveal her face felt strange after years wearing her mask, and she found herself feeling both free and strangely vulnerable. Biyu was certain she would feel less bare if she walked without a stitch and her mask than she did now. Fortunately, the mask had healed itself with a little help from a blessing from her. The road they were on was a rarely traveled road between the Midlands and the Southlands, only a little west from the North-South Road. The road they were on was straight, and they could see far ahead and to either side of the road, so unless they saw people coming, or she needed to talk to Sir Stuart, who shadowed them, she could go without.

  "Still upset about the bandits?" Lily May asked.

  Without a veil, May saw the fullness of Biyu's frown. Even without seeing her face, their current bond allowed her to feel how upset she was. May focused on her blessing, so she could experience her Master's thoughts. She sighed. "Yeah. You're more softhearted than you seem, huh?"

  "I think about what I could have done differently."

  "They were trying to kill people. They almost killed me! They had to have some other option. Like, maybe, telling people an ogre destroyed their village? It's all because they made bad choices."

  "I still killed refugees. They lost the life they should have had… and I was the one who ended it."

  "Lots of bandits are refugees. Them, or soldiers who fled a war. Take a page from the caravan guards. Your life first, your orders second, wondering why later."

  "Now is later," replied Biyu, but May rolled her eyes. Sir Stuart, trailing a bit, offered no words of his own. The whole trip he had been quiet, even though Biyu and May spoke in words for his benefit. There was, admittedly, a bit of normalcy too, which May appreciated.

  "Later means," May clarified, "in a pub and drunk." Biyu was not impressed.

  They crested a rise that gave them a clear view of the road ahead. There was an ox drawn carriage facing their direction about a kilometer off. Around it were two groups of soldiers in different colors, and it took only a moment to see that they were in combat. They could hear the clash of arms, and the cries of the wounded. One group, dressed in brown and blue, was dead or routed. The other, in white and black, was doing their best to slaughter the survivors.

  There was a hint of a shriek as a soldier in white and black leaped onto the carriage, and long fiery red hair came streaming out as the soldier wrestled the occupant out.

  No words passed between Biyu and May, not even through the blessing. May lowered herself, and Biyu leaped onto her back. Sir Stuart grabbed their discarded bags, and he followed them as they took off at a full run. As he attempted to catch up to them, they disappeared with one of Lily May's steps. Grumbling, he slowed to follow at a sustainable pace. There was little chance he would reach them before the fighting was done.

  May's first strike was the man gripping the woman. May's sword landed on the man's helmet, concussing him into releasing the woman and staggering back. A step, and May was gone, a baffling green shroud moving among the white and black soldiers. Sometimes she was striking a painful blow, and others giving one of the guards a chance to recover by deflecting a strike. The guards in brown and blue took advantage of the cover to recover and regroup. With May keeping the opposition off kilter, they struck back at the white and black.

  Left behind in May's wake, Biyu did not hesitate. She put a sword through the throat of the man threatening the red haired woman. Conferring the woman a blessing, she curtly shoved the stranger against the cart and put her back to her. Biyu placed herself between the woman and the soldiers, taking a defensive stance. She attempted to veil herself, but the cloth was tangled up, and she had not the time to untangle it. The startled woman, leaning against the cart, looked at the tiny back defending her, then at the newly rallied soldiers and the woman in green. Biyu remained at her station, striking when opportunity presented itself. Like the man May shoved in her direction.

  The fighting lasted not much longer. There were no Transcendents among the white and black, so between two Transcendents arriving and the battered defenders recovering, the white and blacks were inexorably overwhelmed. The enemy soldiers did not surrender or flee, dying to the last man. Biyu remained near the woman, often pressing her back against her to make sure she was still there. Unable to cover her face, she could not check on the woman until the last enemy soldier was dead. Lily May came to stand before her master, shielding her from the allied soldiers.

  The woman, curious about her savior, attempt to approach, but Lily May gently rebuffed her with a smile and a shake of her head. Before the woman could ask anything, her soldiers crowded her, dragging her away from the helpful strangers. Instead of thanking them, they were given scowls and weapons half-raised defensively. The woman spoke to the oldest guard, a man at least in his late forties. Biyu took the opportunity to fix her veil, and sighed in relief when it was in place.

  Sir Stuart, carrying the discarded bags, arrived as the woman and her guard conferred. He was scowling, but said nothing. Obviously disapproving of May and Biyu running ahead to involve themselves, She gave them back their bags, then took a stance to show that he was with them. He also made sure that the emblem of his Order was clearly visible. They waited on the woman and soldiers for what would come next.

  The woman, obviously in charge, spoke with the guard captain. Her back was straight, her eyes clear and determined. The guard captain made big sweeping gestures with his arms, but the woman was adamant in whatever she was saying. In the end, he could not convince her, and with a grim look he watched his lady approach the strangers.

  Biyu's eyes were attracted to the woman's brilliant red hair, a shade that looked unnatural to Biyu. No one she had ever met had a color like that before. The woman's pretty face was bejeweled with brilliant blue eyes. She wore a simple long traveling tunic of soft blue, belted with a thick and smooth braided cord that accentuated her generous hips, thin waist, and the swell of her breasts. She had straightened her dress after her ordeal, but it was still ruffled.

  Giving a last look to the guard captain, the woman introduced herself. "I am the daughter of Viscount Emanuel Kurt Lonelyknoll, Isolde. Thank you for your intervention." She paused, straightening her skirts for a shallow curtsy. "I do not have much, but how shall I reward you?"

  May and Biyu shared a look. Sir Stuart remained quietly uninvolved. May gave a deep bow before speaking, "No reward is necessary, Lady Isolde. I am Lily May, and I serve Biyu Kimmel Lostlakes Elderwoods Exile, the wandering Transcendent. This man here is our companion Sir Stuart, of the Order of the Stone Circle. May I inquire as to what was—" She looked at Biyu, head tipped. Sighing, she rephrased, "What happened?"

  The woman looked at them curiously, though with Biyu and May in their combat gear there was little to see. When Biyu met her eyes, she fidgeted and her eyes slid away. "I was betrothed to a son of Archduke Marble. There was friction between him and I, and the Archduke was willing to end our engagement amiably. His son, Lord Sebastian, elected to be insulted by the broken engagement and has decided to take me by force of arms. My parents were sending me north where I would be beyond his reach, but that hasn't work out as we hoped."

  "May I ask why it was broken?" May asked.

  "Because he does things like this," she said, indicating the corpses. "On a few occasions, he would boast to me about women he had lain with, or suggest I should play with one of his… possessions." Saying the word she scowled. "The Archduke was sympathetic. He has a few sons, and Sebastian was removed from consideration for succession due to his temperament. My parents had wanted the connection with the Archduke, of course, and had assumed Lord Sebastian to be a respectable son. When they learned it was otherwise, they begged Archduke Marble to allow them to retract their offer of my hand."

  May glanced at Biyu, and Isolde frowned at the emotions that flickered over May's face. May continued, "We would offer you an escort north, but we have urgent business in Lonely Knoll." May looked at the carriage, the dead oxen, and the dead and wounded soldiers. "May we help you?"

  Lady Isolde looked at the strangers with pressed lips, glanced at her soldiers, and then resolved herself. "Will you take me in, as one of your companions? I will be whatever will most help you, if you allow me to be among your number."

  Taken from Royal Road, this narrative should be reported if found on Amazon.

  Sir Stuart's jaw worked, as though he wanted to say something, but he withheld himself. Biyu hoped the man would not regret all the times he said nothing. May, glancing to Biyu once more, replied, "We can arrange it, but you kinda stand out."

  Lady Isolde smiled. "That will not be a problem. I am a Transcendent, and glamour is my aspect. I can change my appearance however you please." She was looking at Biyu rather intensely as she said that, but then she caught herself and looked away. May almost snickered at that, while Biyu remained the stoic observer. Giving a polite cough while settling herself, she continued, "I intend to have myself declared slain. You cannot find what has been turned to ash, but… I know I am asking a lot. Lady Biyu, I will swear any Oath you like to enter your service."

  "A maid?" asked Biyu, speaking for the first time.

  While Isolde was preparing to reply, May shook her head. "No, Biyu. I think she should be," and May met the woman's eyes, "your companion." The woman's eyes widened, and she began fidgeting once more. Biyu expected the woman's cheeks to color, but they did not. "A courtesan, or perhaps a concubine?" The woman could not hold May or Biyu's eyes, and turned away.

  "Better that than a mere maid," the old soldier grumbled.

  Sir Stuart finally broke, and said, "Why slain, Lady Isolde? That is a cowardly act. Surely there is something else you can do?"

  "Do what? Slay the man, and raise the ire of the Archduke? Even if the Archduke hates his son, and I believe he does, he will have to retaliate. My whole family will suffer. Allow him to capture me, and be in his power? Taking my own life is something I will not do, nor will I request you murder me. I've too much respect for the life you saved to do that. Allow Lord Sebastian to harass my family in his pursuit of them? Perhaps he will stoop to killing them." She shook her head. "No, it is not cowardice what I do. I fall on my sword to save my family. I lose everything. No longer will I be a noble. My family will not know me, even if they know the truth of the matter. My friends, the future I grew up expecting. That is all gone now, and I turn myself over to the mercy of strangers I have no reason to trust except that they had rescued me."

  Sir Stuart pondered the words, looking at the woman with renewed respect. "Surely, once the matter is settled, you can return?"

  "No, for to do so would be to spit in the Archduke's face. Even if he should figure it out, he will be honor bound to accept my exile-in-death. We call it a 'polite fiction'."

  May, what are you doing? Biyu asked.

  You find the way she can't quite look at you amusing, don't you? May replied.

  Maybe, but that is no reason to—

  You don't like making her flustered?

  That is not the point.

  Does that matter? May asked. This is the first time I have seen you interested in someone, Master. I feel sorry for Anya, but if you are interested in her, then perhaps you should pursue it. You keep telling me you want to try living a full life. A relationship is part of that.

  We have not properly met yet.

  Master…

  It is not as though she's attracted— Biyu shut up as May shared her judgment of the woman with Biyu. Oh. I cannot give her what she wants?

  You can't touch her?

  I do not want to.

  Mm. You don't desire to. You can. Maybe you'll find you want to, to make her happy. Why not try?

  It is not… why her, and not Anya?

  The reason was not words, but Biyu's own emotions for Anya tossed back to her. A little bit of fear, a lot of distrust, the certainty her motives were purely self-interested, and the certainty she would cross the boundaries she set up.

  The conversation was a moment of eye contact and expressions. With a sigh, Biyu asked, "Would you like to pretend to be my consort, Lady Isolde? Only until we can find better accommodations for you."

  Lady Isolde swallowed. The fingers of her hands writhed together nervously as she lowered her head. "I would be willing to do that for as long as you desire, Lady Biyu. Only, I cannot be your consort. I should play the commoner woman taken in. I can be a courtesan, although I lack the skills for that. While I can sing and dance, I'm not nearly good enough. I can be your concubine… or a kept woman."

  A kept woman. A companion kept for a while, paid for like a whore but with at least the veneer of affection. At the words, the guard captain reddened, and he stalked forward. "Milady, you cannot stoop to such a low station! How…"

  Turning, she looked into the guard captain's eyes, and her expression was set and certain. "This is the best option for all involved. Running will not work. We have seen that very well. My parents cannot afford to insult Lord Sebastian. The Archduke will be obligated to reprise against them, even if the Archduke himself wants to expel him from his family. Lord Sebastian will have no reason to continue to act against my parents.

  "These two came to our rescue. You would surely have died without their intervention. If they will have me, I will join them. You WILL go to my parents, explain to them the truth of things, and then have me declared deceased. Make for me a cairn on this spot, and I will in all ways have died.

  "You will NOT argue further. Be happy that I live, and am well. Your duty will be complete once the pyre is burned. For my parents' sake, and my own, do this, or forswear them now." She glanced at the white and black amid the brown and blue. Pursing her lips, she turned to Biyu. "Sebastian's soldiers do not deserve to be Lost Souls for being in service to a fool. Lady Biyu, can you perform the last rites for all those who died? I do not wish to say my own last rites. Just thinking about it is horrifying, and more than a little sad."

  Biyu hesitated. Part of her was afraid she would steal the souls of the recently dead, but she was all too aware that refusal in these circumstances would be viewed with suspicion. Sir Stuart, even if he had become better disposed to her since the incident with the Wizard, would likely take notice. So they worked to carry the bodies into a pile. Wood and grass were collected. The carriage itself was broken up for the pyre. A cairn was raised besides the road, to mark where Lady Isolde was slain by brigands.

  Biyu performed the Calling of the Deceased, and she felt her skin shiver as she swore she could feel the dead come to her. Once she was sure the souls had come, she said a generic Eulogy. After she performed Eulogy, she invited the soldiers and Lady Isolde a chance to offer their own words and praise for the deceased they knew, to beseech the gods to guide the dead to Judgment. She performed the Final Words, commending the souls to Judgment, then the Lighting of the Pyre with a tossed brand she was offered. The winds stirred with the smoke, and she one more felt a phantom wind taking the deceased east.

  When the rites were complete, and the soldiers began their trek back to their home city in defeat, Biyu gave praise to the gods, for she claimed not a single soul.

  "Lady Isolde—" May began.

  "Isolde is dead. You were at her funeral," Isolde said. She turned to Biyu. "Lady Biyu, would you honor me with a new name?" Again the fingers of her hand twisted together.

  "Lily," replied Biyu.

  "No! That's my name, even if I don't use it. Iris, Saffron, or maybe Daisy, but not Lily." May was not smiling as she objected.

  "Iris is good. It is a pleasure to meet you, Iris. We need to be in Lonely Knoll in a week. Can you make it on foot?"

  Iris was giving May a dirty look, but she smiled apologetically at Biyu as she shook her head. "I'm afraid not. My techniques take up most of my mana, and the rest is for using it. Even the way I enhance my body is just a part of the techniques, to help mold my form rather than empower it like you do." She looked ready to say something, but then she wilted. "I suppose one of your companions will have to carry me. Before that, do you have something else I could wear? I shouldn't be wearing Lady Isolde's clothes."

  "It'll show your ankles, but Biyu has some nice robes. Not too fancy, just nice," May said.

  Iris gave May a look, although it was more confused than vindictive. "Do you speak for your Master?" She made a noise. "Our Master."

  May and Biyu shared a look, but it was Sir Stuart who spoke up. "You had best get used to it. Miss May has become Lady Biyu's voice and hands. It is part of a technique, where they can share thoughts."

  That surprised Iris, who scrutinized May. "Are you two…"

  "No!" laughed May. "I like men, Miss Iris."

  "Do not address me more formally than Lady Biyu," Iris said, her words clipped. May smiled in response, but she did give a bow.

  "And how shall we say I know you?" Iris asked. She watched as Biyu rummaged through her clothing for something new for Iris to wear. A tunic and robe were produced, the tunic was long on Biyu, but too short to wear without hose for Iris.

  May gave Biyu a nudge of her foot, and the woman finally replied, "The truth. You were in a beset caravan, and we rescued you. The only lie will be you struck my fancy, so I took you in." May gave Biyu another nudge, and this one earned a look of annoyance. "Fine. That part is not a lie." Iris fidgeted again, smiling shyly at that, then took the clothes given her. The mix of colors was as matched as they could manage, but it would never pass muster in even the most rustic Manor court. "We will get you proper clothes in town."

  "And Biyu will pick them out for you."

  "We can say she was one of the people among those captured by the ogres. That way, we can trace her back to the tower," Sir Stuart said.

  May glanced at Sir Stuart with a raised brow. Biyu considered. She nodded. Iris was staring at them wide-eyed at the mention of ogres. "Very well. Iris, we shall tell you the story of the ogres and their Wizard so you will know how we met."

  While the women dallied in the tale, Sir Stuart stoically watched, waiting for them to get on with things. His expression was flat, but his down turned lips were easy to make out through his thick beard.

  "Do you have a preference for my appearance, Lady Biyu?" Iris asked nervously.

  Pick something, instructed May.

  Giving it a thought, Biyu asked, "Can you keep the hair color? I have never seen such a shade, and I admit I am taken with it."

  Sadly, Iris shook her head. "It is associated with my family. There is another shade," and she indicated her hair, which was now a dull orange rather than the vibrant red from before. Biyu smiled, and nodded in acceptance. "My eyes?"

  "What color can you make them?"

  Iris gave it a thought. "All the usual ones: brown, green, hazel, blue, and so on. I can also make them red, pink, gold… not really any limits. Even eyes like a goat, although that's obviously fake."

  "Red, like your hair?"

  Giving a nod, she reached up and passed a hand over her face. Her eyes were red, and Biyu frowned, shaking her head. "No, I do not like that. Gold?"

  Lifting a brow, Iris brought her hand back the other way over her face, and her eyes were gold. Biyu considered, then nodded. Iris smiled at the approval. "I will get dressed then. Give me a moment, Lady Biyu."

  So they waited. May cheerfully teased Biyu through the blessing, while Biyu refused to rise to the provocations. She was uncertain, and it showed through her veil. A part of her was certain this was a mistake, but she was unsure if it was her indifference to others or intuition at play. She was sure she would find out.

  Iris returned, and she was a sad sight of mismatched clothes. It was suitable for a woman who had just been rescued and clothed, and so they accepted it.

  May took Iris on her back. It would be wrong for Sir Stuart touch Iris so familiarly, and May was her Lady's faithful retainer. They traveled back to Iris's former hometown, soon overtaking the soldiers.