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During Saturnalia, it is customary to get gifts for your loved ones. Or friends. Enemies? !!A couple of days earlier Quinn pokes $q_his head through the door frame. $q_He’s wearing a smile and not enough clothing for winter. \<<if $quinn_afraid is true>> “Quinn, why are you here?” I ask. We haven’t talked after I found out about $q_him. I’m not sure I’m ready. $q_He gives me a carefree smile, as if nothing is amiss in our relationship. “Do you want to go shopping with me?” $q_he asks. I sigh. $q_He’s still my friend. Maybe a shopping trip would make things feel like they were before. Maybe I’d like that. \<<else>> “Do you want to go shopping with me?” $q_he asks. <</if>>\ “Gifts?” I ask as I put my cloak on. “For your friends, yes,” Quinn says, emphasizing the word ‘friends’. <<button[[Continue|sat_gift]]>><</button>>

!!In the forum Quinn sticks out like a sore thumb in the forum. People are in a merry enough mood, but something about $q_him makes them avoid $q_him like a plague, their expressions turning sour when $q_he’s near. $q_His white hair flows in the winter breeze as he $q_he turns to give me a candid smile. “I like to be here with you,” $q_he says. \<<if $quinn_lover is true>> I take $q_his hand and smile. “Me, too.” $q_His eyes squint with delight at my words. “I love you,” $q_he says. $q_He always says it so easily, and $q_he never expects me to say it back to $q_him. Before I can answer, $q_he’s already switching the subject, “When people are smiling like this, it almost reminds me of our own market. Even if they’re Romans.” I don’t mind the forum today. It has felt a bit too busy in the past, even hostile. Today, people seem more friendly. They are expecting the celebration of Saturnalia with wide smiles on their faces. It almost makes me nostalgic. Our market wasn’t nearly as big as this one but this does remind me of it. It felt so big when we were small. \<<else>> I don’t mind the forum today. It has felt a bit too busy in the past, even hostile. Today, people seem more friendly. They are expecting the celebration of Saturnalia with wide smiles on their faces. It almost makes me nostalgic. Our market wasn’t nearly as big as this one but this does remind me of it. It felt so big when we were small. “This makes me think of our market,” I say. <</if>>\ Quinn says, “Do you remember when your father started the Winter Solstice early, got drunk, and half-forced people to dance with him in the market?” <<button[[I grimace at the memory. It was awkward.|awkwardsaturnaliafather]]>><</button>> <<button[[I laugh at the memory.|funnysaturnaliafather]]>><</button>>

“By the Twins, don’t remind me,” I sigh. He was always an embarrassing drunk, dancing and laughing too loudly. Then, he always repeated how much he loved me and the siblings. I told him to tell me that when the beer had disappeared from his breath. ‘You’re just like your mother,’ he answered, laughing. It wasn’t funny. Quinn gives me an understanding smile. “It was a little awkward. When he was drunk, he always told me that he loves me like his own child.” “Oh, no.” Of course Quinn had to endure it, too. “I’m sorry.” “It didn’t bother me too much. It was nice to hear, even if the words came from a drunk old man.” $q_He smiles. Musing on the memories, we skim the different booths in the market. “Do you have any idea what you want to buy for our mortal enemies?” Quinn asks. \<<if $camilla_bath is true>> <<button[["Camilla?"|sat_camillagift]]>><</button>> \<<elseif $tinsae_bath is true>> <<button[["Tinsae?"|sat_tinsaegift]]>><</button>> \<<elseif $lovetriangleroute is true>> <<button[["Niall?"|sat_niallgift]]>><</button>> \<<elseif $niall_soloroute is true>> <<button[["Niall?"|sat_niallgift]]>><</button>> \<<elseif $marcus_soloroute is true>> <<button[["Marcus?"|sat_marcusgift]]>><</button>> <</if>>

You can’t exactly say no to the chieftain, not when he’s forcing you to dance crazy with him. People gathered around him, clapping and laughing. He grabbed me to dance with him, too. He swirled me around, laughing like a child. “He made me dance with him,” Quinn says. “He lifted me up like I weighed nothing.” “You weighed nothing,” I say. “You were a small child.” Quinn scoffs with a smile. “He lifted the miller, too! That man must’ve weighed a ton.” “He fell down in the snow, in the end. I think he strained his back.” “Oh, he did.” Quinn chuckles. “The old man had so much energy during the festivities.” Musing on the memories, we skim the different booths in the market. “Do you have any idea what you want to buy for our mortal enemies?” Quinn asks. \<<if $camilla_bath is true>> <<button[["Camilla?"|sat_camillagift]]>><</button>> \<<elseif $tinsae_bath is true>> <<button[["Tinsae?"|sat_tinsaegift]]>><</button>> \<<elseif $lovetriangleroute is true>> <<button[["Niall?"|sat_niallgift]]>><</button>> \<<elseif $niall_soloroute is true>> <<button[["Niall?"|sat_niallgift]]>><</button>> \<<elseif $marcus_soloroute is true>> <<button[["Marcus?"|sat_marcusgift]]>><</button>> \<<else>> <</if>>

The men leave for the party and I’m left behind. Quinn should be here soon enough. With my clothes. I don’t have to wait for long. It’s as if $q_he was waiting for the right moment to strike. Here $q_he is, peeking from the door frame like a mischievous fairy with a big bag on $q_his back. <<button[[I am excited to get to play dress up.|sat_exciteddressup]]>><</button>> <<button[[I really don't feel like dressing up.|sat_nodressno]]>><</button>> <<button[[I feel indifferent about this.|sat_indifferentdress]]>><</button>>

!!Back at the barracks, present day. I open the door to my shared living space and halt. The men are changing into their better clothes, there’s nothing peculiar about that. However, someone’s clearly been waiting for my arrival. There’s Pec with a sly smile on his face, looking at me like a cat who just found a mouse to play with. “The birds been chirping,” he starts. “Oh, no.” Not the birds. Pec nods. “Yes, indeed. Chirping that you have someone you fancy.” Kegan’s eyes widen. “Really?” He scurries to the scene of gossip half dressed with his tunic hanging out. “Who?” Floyd frowns. “No, we don’t have to start talking about Hati’s private–” But Pec doesn’t care. He looks like he’s about to explode. He’s apparently been bottling this inside for a while now. \<<if $camilla_bath is true>> <<button[[Continue|sat_camillalover]]>><</button>> \<<elseif $tinsae_bath is true>> <<button[[Continue|sat_tinsaelover]]>><</button>> \<<elseif $lovetriangleroute is true>> <<button[[Continue|sat_ltlover]]>><</button>> \<<elseif $niall_soloroute is true>> <<button[[Continue|sat_nialllover]]>><</button>> \<<elseif $marcus_soloroute is true>> <<button[[Continue|sat_marcuslover]]>><</button>> \<<else>> <<button[[Continue|sat_quinnlover]]>><</button>> <</if>>\

\<<set $camilla_gift to true>> <<button[["I have a handwoven bracelet for her."|sat_braceletcamilla]]>><</button>> <<button[["A pretty flask for her wine."|sat_winecamilla]]>><</button>>

\<<set $tinsae_gift to true>> <<button[["I have a handwoven bracelet for her."|sat_bracelettinsae]]>><</button>> <<button[[Massage oil? Something that’ll help her relax, she works too much.|sat_oiltinsae]]>><</button>>

\<<set $niall_gift to true>> <<button[[I have a hand-woven bracelet for him.|sat_niallbracelet]]>><</button>> <<button[[Some herbal drink to soothe his nerves?|sat_herbaldrinkniall]]>><</button>> <<button[[A longer tunic to hide his thighs?|sat_niallthighs]]>><</button>>

\<<set $marcus_gift to true>> Quinn gags theatrically at the name. \<<if $determined is true>> I purse my lips. I suppose it makes sense to get him something. Yes, I want to see his head on a spike but that doesn’t mean I shouldn’t get him something first. Besides, it doesn’t have to be a nice present. \<<else>> I don’t know why I’m even bothering to get him a gift in the first place. But here I am. Might as well get him something. It doesn’t have to be a nice present. <</if>>\ I look at the selection. Something catches my eye… <<button[[A comb. The curse should be working by now...|sat_combmarcus]]>><</button>> <<button[[Some boring poetry book.|sat_bookmarcus]]>><</button>> <<button[[A stylus. He likes writing.|sat_penmarcus]]>><</button>>

\<<set $bracelet_camilla to true>> \<<if $camilla_user is true>> It’s not because I fancy her, naturally. I just need her to think that I do. And what better way to show that than me spending hours on this thing? \<<else>> Hopefully she appreciates the effort. <</if>>\ Quinn says, “Don’t tell me you made that yourself.” “I won’t.” $q_He raises $q_his brows. \<<if $hobby_fashion is true>> At least I managed to make it look beautiful. The color compliments the mix of brown and green in her eyes, the knot work looks almost professional. “I didn’t take you for an artist,” Quinn notes dryly. “Pretty good, huh?” Quinn shrugs, not willing to stroke my ego for longer. \<<else>> I’m not sure why I thought that I could make a bracelet for her but an attempt was made, certainly. It hangs pathetically from my hand as I inspect it, trying to will it to look more beautiful, more suitable for her noble wrist. “It does look rough,” Quinn helpfully comments. I quickly hide the thing in my cloak. “None of your business.” $q_He snickers happily. “You tried. I’m sure she’ll have a hearty laugh.” <</if>>\ \<<if $tinsae_gift isnot true>> "Are you going to get one for that... other lady?" $q_he asks, unwilling to say Tinsae's name out loud. <<button[["No."|sat_nogiftfortin]]>><</button>> <<button[["Yes."|sat_tinsaegift]]>><</button>> \<<else>> <<button[[Continue|sat_giftforquinn?]]>><</button>> <</if>>\

\<<set $wine_camilla to true>> I shouldn’t probably enable her drinking habits but at least this is something that she will find use for. \<<if $drinking_problem is true>> Besides, I don’t think I should be the one to condemn the way she deals with her problems. I’d be knees deep in wine, too, if excessive drinking wasn’t prohibited in the army. They really love to prohibit anything even remotely enjoyable. \<<else>> Besides, I can also let her know that she can fill it with water. Perhaps heavily distilled wine? Grape juice? <</if>>\ Quinn takes a look at the flask with an appreciative nod. “We should enable her drinking habits, she’ll be more malleable.” \<<if $camilla_user is true>> “She has a high tolerance already, I doubt that plan would work.” “Worth a try.” $q_He shrugs. “The design of the bottle is cute, though.” \<<else>> “We’re not making her more malleable with wine.” Quinn nods. “Indeed. She has too high of a tolerance for it. Good thinking.” “No, I didn’t mean–” “The design of the bottle is cute, though.” <</if>>\ The glass bottle is a beautiful shade of ice blue with veins of gold circling it like marble. It’s stylish. And I barely have enough of money for it. I’m sure she’ll appreciate it. \<<if $tinsae_gift isnot true>> "Are you going to get one for that... other lady?" $q_he asks, unwilling to say Tinsae's name out loud. <<button[["No."|sat_nogiftfortin]]>><</button>> <<button[["Yes."|sat_tinsaegift]]>><</button>> \<<else>> <<button[[Continue|sat_giftforquinn?]]>><</button>> <</if>>\

“The witch doesn’t deserve any, yes.” Quinn is all too happy with my decision. “Now, we can leave,” $q_he says, clearly uncomfortable. “What’s wrong?” “I hate the crowd. Makes me feel itchy and annoyed.” $q_He scratches $q_himself for the dramatic effect. “Fine, we have all we need.” <<button[[Continue|birds_been_chirping]]>><</button>>

“Let’s leave,” Quinn says, clearly uncomfortable. “What’s wrong?” “I hate the crowd. Makes me feel itchy and annoyed.” $q_He scratches $q_himself for the dramatic effect. “Fine, we have all we need.” <<button[[Continue|birds_been_chirping]]>><</button>>

\<<set $bracelet_tinsae to true>> She seems like someone who’d appreciate hand-woven crafts. She can acquire most everything money can buy, but not this one. \<<if $hobby_fashion is true>> I made it in the colors of her country, bright and bold. It turned out quite beautiful, even if I do say so myself. Almost something you could buy from an artist. “You look smug,” Quinn points out. “It’s not that pretty.” $q_His words barely get through to me. We both know $q_he’s just pouty because $q_he didn’t get one. \<<else>> She certainly couldn’t buy this one from an artist. No one in their right mind would craft something like this and try to sell it. I tried to emulate the design of her homeland but the colors I had to work with didn’t really do the trick. The mix of browns and grays doesn’t exactly bring in mind her homeland’s richly colored decor. “It looks rough,” Quinn points out. “Like something a cat threw up.” I quickly hide the thing in my cloak with a frown. Quinn shrugs. “At least now I don’t feel bad about not getting one.” “You’re mean,” I note. $q_He gives me a bright smile in return. <</if>>\ \<<if $camilla_gift isnot true>> "Are you going to get one for the mean wife?" "Camilla?" <<button[["I won't get her anything."|sat_nogiftforcam]]>><</button>> <<button[["I suppose I could get her something."|sat_camillagiftmaybeyes]]>><</button>> \<<else>> <<button[[Continue|sat_giftforquinn?]]>><</button>> <</if>>\

\<<set $oil_tinsae to true>> A beautiful glass flask of scented oil catches my eye. For massage? That would be relaxing. \<<if $loud_pervert is true>> My lips curl up from the thought of her naked skin. She must carry a lot of stress in her chest. I would massage her full breasts and– Quinn raises $q_his brows at the sight of my face. “I’m friends with a pervert,” $q_he mutters to $q_himself. “Don’t act surprised,” I say. “I really shouldn’t,” $q_he says with a sigh. \<<elseif $shy_pervert is true>> My lips curl up from the thought of her naked skin. She must carry a lot of stress in her chest. I would massage her full breasts and– Quinn raises $q_his brows at the sight of my face. “I’m friends with a pervert,” $q_he mutters to $q_himself. “Shut up,” I say and feel the heat creeping up to my cheeks. Quinn cackles to $q_himself. \<<else>> Her shoulders must be tense from working so much, I could give them a massage. Quinn raises $q_his brow at the purchase before looking away. At least $q_he’s quiet about the ‘evil witch’ thing. It was getting a little repetitive. <</if>> \<<if $camilla_gift isnot true>> "Are you going to get one for the mean wife?" "Camilla?" <<button[["I won't get her anything."|sat_nogiftforcam]]>><</button>> <<button[["I suppose I could get her something."|sat_camillagiftmaybeyes]]>><</button>> \<<else>> <<button[[Continue|sat_giftforquinn?]]>><</button>> <</if>>\

Quinn nods. “Now, we can leave,” $q_he says, clearly uncomfortable. “What’s wrong?” “I hate the crowd. Makes me feel itchy and annoyed.” $q_He scratches $q_himself for the dramatic effect. “Fine, we have all we need.” <<button[[Continue|birds_been_chirping]]>><</button>>

\<<set $comb_marcus to true>> I take the beautiful bone comb with a smile. The design has birds in it, two of them. The craftsmanship is immaculate, but that’s not the reason I’m buying it. “A comb…?” Quinn frowns. Then, $q_he exhales. “The curse?” I nod with a grin. “The hair should start to fall off by now.” “You beast!” Quinn laughs and smacks my back. “By that I mean, I love you.” \<<if $quinn_lover is true>> “I love you, too,” I say and give $q_him a quick peck on $q_his cheek. The store owner looks at our public affections with a raised brow but refrains from giving further comments. So, decorating everything with penises is completely fine, but public affections are frowned upon? Stupid Romans. \<<else>> I let out an awkward laugh. “Thank you?” At least $q_he doesn’t expect me to say it back to $q_him. <</if>>\ Quinn sighs wistfully. “I wish I was there when the first strands start falling off.” \<<if (($lovetriangleroute is true) and ($niall_gift isnot true))>> "Is this all? Do you need a gift for the oaf, too?" <<button[["Yes."|sat_giftfortheoaf?]]>><</button>> \<<else>> <<button[[Continue|sat_giftforquinn?]]>><</button>> <</if>>

\<<set $book_marcus to true>> I touch the scroll of Clutorius Priscus. The name sounds vaguely familiar, the ill-fated poet was sentenced to death because of something politics-related. Something like that ought to happen to this self-proclaimed poet, too. Quinn looks at the scroll in my hands with a frown. “Really? A book?” “He likes poems.” Quinn groans. “Don’t remind me that you know what he likes.” “Of course I know. I spend too much time with him as it is. And, if I recall, you told me to do that.” “Fine, I know. I did. You’re right, I’m sorry.” <<button[[Continue|sat_giftforquinn?]]>><</button>> \<<if (($lovetriangleroute is true) and ($niall_gift isnot true))>> "Is this all? Do you need a gift for the oaf, too?" <<button[["Yes."|sat_giftfortheoaf?]]>><</button>> \<<else>> <<button[[Continue|sat_giftforquinn?]]>><</button>> <</if>>

\<<set $pen_marcus to true>> I take the pen and inspect the cravings. The decoration has almost a Celtic design to it. “What is that? To stab him in the neck?” Quinn asks, $q_his voice hopeful. “It’s just a pen.” But it’s a nice pen. “Just a… Why?” “He likes writing.” Quinn’s eye twitches. “You’re giving him something because he might like it?” \<<if $determined is true>> “It’s just to get his guards down. You know this.” $q_He sighs in relief. “I know, I know. I just… Nevermind, you’re right.” $q_He gives me a quick smile, clearly relieved by my words. \<<else>> I look away. “Gifts are supposed to be something nice.” Quinn shakes $q_his head, as if $q_he doesn’t believe the words that are coming out of my mouth. “Don’t look at me like that,” I say. “You wanted me to buy him gifts in the first place.” “Not to him!” Quinn groans. $q_He takes a deep breath and closes $q_his eyes almost threatetically. “But I understand why this is needed. You need to have him believe that you’re close.” “Right.” I look at the pen and start to have second thoughts. Maybe it’s silly to buy him something nice. “Let’s buy the stupid pen,” Quinn says and starts to walk away. <</if>> \<<if (($lovetriangleroute is true) and ($niall_gift isnot true))>> "Is this all? Do you need a gift for the oaf, too?" <<button[["Yes."|sat_giftfortheoaf?]]>><</button>> \<<else>> <<button[[Continue|sat_giftforquinn?]]>><</button>> <</if>>

“It’s that weird friend of Hati’s that keeps following him around like his shadow.” “What friend?” Kegan frowns. “The one who looks like $q_he’ll kill you in your sleep if you talk to $q_him,” Floyd says. Then, after realizing that I’m looking at him, he backtracks, “I mean–” “Oh. Oh!” Kegan pales. “I remember $q_him. $q_He hissed at me for asking how long you’ve known each other. $q_He’s…” Kegan grimaces at the memory. “Not very pleasant to talk to.” That does sound like something Quinn would do. <<button[["Stop calling Quinn creepy."|sat_quinnisnotcreepy]]>><</button>> <<button[[They all have valid points.|sat_validpoints]]>><</button>> <<button[[Remain silent.|sat_quinnsilentrumors]]>><</button>>

“It’s our Lord Centurion!” Pec shouts out with his voice cracking a little at the end. He waits for the two people to gasp before continuing. “I know, we all saw it, but I thought we should still talk about it.” They wait for me to say something. <<button[[Get angry. Has he even thought through the implications of spreading such rumors?|sat_angryrumorsmarcus]]>><</button>> <<button[[''You saw it?''|sat_laughingmarcus]]>><</button>>

Pec takes a breath, as if preparing for the juiciest piece of rumor he’s heard in this lifetime. “It’s our good Lord Tribune.” The news is received with some audible gasps. Niall is the more unapproachable officer in their eyes, a beautiful thing to behold from afar. Always dressed in his finest, the visual cues of his status alone are enough to make him distant for a regular soldier. Niall won’t be happy about such rumors spreading around about us. <<button[["It's true, all of it."|sat_niallconfirmed]]>><</button>> <<button[[Deny it.|sat_niallrumordenied]]>><</button>>

“Listen up, lads,” he announces as if he’s delivering the news of the century. “It’s not just one. It’s two.” “Two?” Kegan gasps. When he feels my gaze on him, he looks away with his cheeks flushed. “I’m just surprised, not judging.” Floyd sighs. “It’s none of our business to judge anyone. I–” Pec continues with a wide smile, happy to have their undivided attention, “It’s Lord Tribune and Lord Centurion.” Silence falls in the room. Even Brick turns his gaze on me. They wait for me to say something. <<button[[Get angry. Has he even thought through the implications of spreading such rumors?|sat_angryrumorslt]]>><</button>> <<button[[Deny everything.|sat_denylt]]>><</button>> <<button[[''It's true. My butt is still sore from getting railed by two Lord dicks.''|sat_itsalltruelt]]>><</button>>

“The exotic merchant lady, of course. The one who does philanthropy. Helps babies and such.” “That’s a big word for your mouth,” Floyd says with an equally deep sigh. “Besides, don’t call her exotic.” Pec pouts his lips. “Fine, sorry.” He turns to me with a newly regained smile. “I get it, I get it. It’s nice that she’s nice and all but…” Pec starts drawing Tinsae’s curves in the air with his hands. Floyd slaps his hand. Pec yelps and retreats. “By the gods, old man, take another drink to loosen up.” Kegan looks at me with an open mouth. “Are you really dating her?” <<button[["I think I am."|sat_tinsaemaybedate]]>><</button>> <<button[[Deny everything.|sat_tinsaedeny]]>><</button>>

“It’s–” He takes a breath, looks around, and lowers his voice into a whisper. He starts saying it, but hesitates. And I know fully well why. “Get on with it,” Brick rumbles from the background. I didn’t even realize he was invested in the conversation, too. “Fine!” Pec snaps and beckons his crowd to come closer. “It’s the… Ah, fuck, I can’t say that. Hati will be executed.” I sigh in relief. At least he’s not as stupid as he– Maestus’s voice cuts in, “The Legate’s wife.” Kegan gasps. Floyd buries his face in his hands. Pec groans. “You weren't supposed to say it.” Maestus shrugs. “It’s all around the fort. The two were seen rolling around in the snow.” This is not good. <<button[["We weren't rolling around, she assaulted me."|sat_camassault]]>><</button>> <<button[["She is, indeed, my secret lover. And the elegant merchant lady, too."|sat_bothladies]]>><</button>>

Admitting to it isn’t really dangerous for me, but maybe Tinsae wouldn’t appreciate the rumors about us. Or would she care? It’s difficult to say. Kegan takes a moment to assess if I’m serious. Then, he erupts into a wide smile. “That is amazing. She is really elegant. I’ve seen her in the fort and she looks like a goddess.” Slight hue of redness rises up to his cheeks at the thought of Tinsae. “Do you have a crush on my girlfriend?” I ask playfully. There’s a part of me that feels wrong to call her that. She’s leaving soon and we haven’t really talked about it. “No!” The heat deepens in his cheeks. Pec starts laughing. “Take care of your lady so the squid won’t steal her from under your nose.” At this point, Kegan’s round cheeks are already reddened with embarrassment. He takes a step towards the door, fixing his tunic, getting ready to bolt. Floyd stops him on his tracks with fatherly advice. “You still need to put your clothes on.” A round of chuckles accompanies Kegan’s meek retreat back to his bed where his Cupid costume is waiting for him. “That’s not all, though,” Pec continues. “You were also seen rolling around in the snow with the Legate’s wife. How do you plead?” The room falls silent. Despite Pec’s light words, they hold extreme weight. The Legate could get me killed in an instant if he deemed the rumors to be true. <<button[["We weren't rolling around, she assaulted me."|sat_camassault]]>><</button>>

“Why would she do that?” Pec asks. “I don’t know.” “She just hates you?” This isn’t the piece of gossip he was hoping for. Floyd looks conflicted by the news. He must’ve thought she and I had something going on, since he asked Camilla to find me when I was wandering in the snow. Her assaulting me in the broad daylight clearly wasn’t what he thought would happen next. Floyd takes a step towards me. “No one deserves to be treated like that.” “I…” No, I suppose not. The situation seems more complex than Camilla lets on, but I doubt the assault was what I ‘deserved’ that day. Floyd brushes his beard. “You’ve attracted the wrath of the Legate’s wife. I don’t need to tell you how dangerous that is.” “No, you don’t.” I highly doubt Camilla has plans on killing me just yet, but to the outsider’s eyes the situation does seem more dangerous than it is. “Why hasn’t she gotten you killed already, though?” Pec asks. “Peculiaris, you can’t just ask someone why–” “No! I don’t mean she should, of course. I’m just… If she hates Hati, she could just as easily get him killed and be done with it. She’s just creating strange rumors about herself this way.” Pec is dangerously bright, something I hadn’t realized before. He sees things better than I thought. But since I won’t offer them any more details, the room falls silent, contemplating on my fate and the wife of the Legate who by now seems like a complete lunatic to them, attacking soldiers unprovoked. “I will just avoid her in the future, maybe that will deter her,” I say. “You are so brave,” Kegan says. “Can’t we do anything to help you?” “You’re doing enough, thank you,” I say. “Just let us know if we can help,” Floyd says. There’s really not much they can do against a noblewoman’s wrath, but the thought counts, I suppose. The men scatter to put on their clothes for the evening. Floyd, now dressed as a carrot, gives me a warm smile as the men are ready to depart for tonight’s festivities. He asks, “Are you coming?” “Later. I love the outfit.” He laughs and takes Kegan, dressed as a Cupid, by his hand and leaves for the party. Pec gives me one last confused glance, and his costume of an overgrown sunflower only adds to the look. <<button[[Continue|saturnalia_clothes]]>><</button>>

“I’m still sore from our late night tryst.” I stretch my back. Pec’s mouth opens as his eyes brighten at the prospect of such a juicy piece of a rumor. Then, he frowns in realization. “Now you’re just pulling my leg. There’s no way you’re shagging both the Legate’s wife and the rich merchant lady.” “Oh, so now it’s too much to believe. Maybe you should think twice about spreading such rumors in the first place.” He purses his lips. “Fine. I get it. I’m sorry. I just… I’m sorry.” “But what about the rolling in the snow thing?” Maestus asks. Pec nods. “Why indeed?” "She attacked me. It's complicated," I say. “Why would she do that?” Pec asks. “I don’t know.” “She just hates you?” This isn’t the piece of gossip he was hoping for. Floyd looks conflicted by the news. He must’ve thought she and I had something going on, since he asked Camilla to find me when I was wandering in the snow. Her assaulting me in the broad daylight clearly wasn’t what he thought would happen next. Floyd takes a step towards me. “No one deserves to be treated like that.” “I…” No, I suppose not. The situation seems more complex than Camilla lets on, but I doubt the assault was what I ‘deserved’ that day. Floyd brushes his beard. “You’ve attracted the wrath of the Legate’s wife. I don’t need to tell you how dangerous that is.” “No, you don’t.” I highly doubt Camilla has plans on killing me just yet, but to the outsider’s eyes the situation does seem more dangerous than it is. “Why hasn’t she gotten you killed already, though?” Pec asks. “Peculiaris, you can’t just ask someone why–” “No! I don’t mean she should, of course. I’m just… If she hates Hati, she could just as easily get him killed and be done with it. She’s just creating strange rumors about herself this way.” Pec is dangerously bright, something I hadn’t realized before. He sees things better than I thought. But since I won’t offer them any more details, the room falls silent, contemplating on my fate and the wife of the Legate who by now seems like a complete lunatic to them, attacking soldiers unprovoked. “I will just avoid her in the future, maybe that will deter her,” I say. “You are so brave,” Kegan says. “Can’t we do anything to help you?” “You’re doing enough, thank you,” I say. “Just let us know if we can help,” Floyd says. There’s really not much they can do against a noblewoman’s wrath, but the thought counts, I suppose. The men scatter to put on their clothes for the evening. Floyd, now dressed as a carrot, gives me a warm smile as the men are ready to depart for tonight’s festivities. He asks, “Are you coming?” “Later. I love the outfit.” He laughs and takes Kegan, dressed as a Cupid, by his hand and leaves for the party. Pec gives me one last confused glance, and his costume of an overgrown sunflower only adds to the look. <<button[[Continue|saturnalia_clothes]]>><</button>>

Admitting to the rumor isn’t really dangerous for me, but maybe Tinsae wouldn’t appreciate it. Besides, I’m really not her lover. She’s just offered me her shoulder and a bath from time to time. “I’m not,” I say. Kegan pouts in clear disappointment. “Did you want me to date her?” I ask. “Oh, no. I just… She’s really pretty.” “She is.” “That’s not all, though,” Pec continues. “You were also seen rolling around in the snow with the Legate’s wife. How do you plead?” The room falls silent. Despite Pec’s light words, they hold extreme weight. The Legate could get me killed in an instant if he deemed the rumors to be true. <<button[["We weren't rolling around, she assaulted me."|sat_camassault]]>><</button>>

“Pec,” I say, my voice filled with ire that I don’t need to pretend. He shrinks to himself at the sound of my voice, but still tries to hold his composure. “What?” he asks with a smile. “What do you think happens to men who prefer men in the Roman army?” “Well–” He takes a step back, his smile wavering. He knows where this is going. “What do you think happens to those who are rumored to have a relationship with other men?” “But it’s Lord Centurion. He wouldn’t let anything–” “Lord Centurion is a Roman nobleman, it would only make sense for him to be the dominant one in this hypothetical relationship. Maybe, if I claimed to be an 'effeminate' man, I wouldn’t be an outcast, maybe others wouldn’t act like I’m less than. But are you willing to bet on that? Besides, what if he loses his power? Who would protect my hypothetical man-loving ass then?” By now, Pec has completely shrunk to himself. “I’m sorry,” he whispers, looking away in clear shame. Floyd cuts in, now dressed as a carrot, “Pec, put your costume on, the rest of us are already ready. I’m sure you will shoot all such rumors down in the future to protect Hati.” “I will,” Pec says, nodding furiously. “I just… I… Well. Sorry,” he repeats. With a warm smile, Floyd looks at me and asks, “Are you coming?” “Later. I love the outfit.” He laughs and takes Kegan, now dressed as a Cupid, by his hand and leaves for the party. Pec gives me one last exasperated look, and his costume of an overgrown sunflower only makes him look more pitiful. "I'm sorry," he repeats before hurrying after the others. <<button[[Continue|saturnalia_clothes]]>><</button>>

\<<if $determined is true>> To think that my hatred has been mistaken for affection is both insulting and amusing. \<<else>> My anger towards him has been mistaken for affection. I’m not sure whether to be insulted or amused. <</if>>\ “Who didn’t? Lord Centurion is not exactly subtle,” Pec says. And he’s right. It’s Marcus’s fault that I’m now in the middle of our army’s rumor mill. I should probably shoot the rumors down. Or… I could fan the flames. <<button[[''Yes, we're together. And I'm the one on top.''|sat_marcustop]]>><</button>> <<button[[No, I won't.|sat_marcusnofanning]]>><</button>>

To think that the mighty Roman Centurion would be the bottom in a relationship with a Northern barbarian makes this rumor even more juicy than it already was. Pec’s already visioning it in his gossip-hungry head. On top of that, this kind of rumor won’t endanger my life. I will be seen as the manliest of men, topping Roman noblemen as I see fit. Marcus is the one who will suffer from this. So, I nod at Pec’s scandalous gasp, encouraging the rumor mill that’s already at full swing. “You’re… You’re…” He tries to find the right words. Another nod. Yes. “You’re the man!” he squeals in excitement. Brick smacks me on my shoulder, giving me a grunt of appreciation. I didn’t even realize he was invested in the conversation, too. Floyd, however, gives me a disapproving glance. “Enough gossiping, put your clothes on,” he says with the sternness of a father. Floyd is now dressed as a carrot as the men are ready to depart for tonight’s festivities. With a warm smile, he looks at me and asks, “Are you coming?” “Later. I love the outfit.” He laughs and takes Kegan, dressed as a Cupid, by his hand and leaves for the party. Pec gives me one last exasperated look, and his costume of an overgrown sunflower only makes him look more pitiful. "We need to talk properly later." "Just go already." <<button[[Continue|saturnalia_clothes]]>><</button>>

I dismissively bury the intrusive thought. I won’t feed this rumor. Not because Marcus doesn’t deserve it, but because it will most likely blow up on my own face. Pec gives me an expectant look. “Well?” “It’s all lies,” I say. “But–” Pec gives me a disappointed pout. “Leave Hati alone already,” Floyd, now dressed as a carrot, says as the men are ready to depart for tonight’s festivities. With a warm smile, he looks at me and asks, “Are you coming?” “Later. I love the outfit.” He laughs and takes Kegan, dressed as a Cupid, by his hand and leaves for the party. Pec gives me one last exasperated look, and his costume of an overgrown sunflower only makes him look more pitiful. “But–” he gives it one last try. "Just go already." <<button[[Continue|saturnalia_clothes]]>><</button>>

“Pec,” I say, my voice filled with ire that I don’t need to pretend. He shrinks to himself at the sound of my voice, but still tries to hold his composure. “What?” he asks with a smile. “What do you think happens to men who prefer men in the Roman army?” “Well–” He takes a step back, his smile wavering. He knows where this is going. “What do you think happens to those who are rumored to have a relationship with other men?” “But it’s Lord Centurion and Lord Tribune. They wouldn’t let anything–” “Maybe that would work if I wanted to let others think that I take it up my arse–by two men, no less. Lords are respectable Roman men, it would only make sense for them to be the dominant ones in that hypothetical relationship. Maybe, if I claimed to be an effeminate man, I wouldn’t be an outcast, maybe others wouldn’t act like I’m less than. But are you willing to bet on that? Besides, what if they lose their power? Who would protect my hypothetical man-loving ass then?” By now, Pec has completely shrunk to himself. “I’m sorry,” he whispers, looking away in clear shame. Floyd cuts in, now dressed as a carrot, “Pec, put your costume on, the rest of us are already ready. I’m sure you will shoot all such rumors down in the future to protect Hati.” “I will,” Pec says, nodding furiously. “I just… I… Well. Sorry,” he repeats. With a warm smile, Floyd looks at me and asks, “Are you coming?” “Later. I love the outfit.” He laughs and takes Kegan, now dressed as a Cupid, by his hand and leaves for the party. Pec gives me one last exasperated look, and his costume of an overgrown sunflower only makes him look more pitiful. "I'm sorry," he repeats before hurrying after the others. <<button[[Continue|saturnalia_clothes]]>><</button>>

“No,” I simply say, dismissing everything they’ve heard. “But–” “And if you think spreading such rumors isn’t a safety hazard for me, you’re even more of a fool than I thought.” That, finally, shuts him up. “I, uh… I’m sorry,” he mutters. Floyd cuts in, now dressed as a carrot, “Pec, put your costume on, the rest of us are already ready. I’m sure you will shoot all such rumors down in the future to protect Hati.” “I will,” Pec says, nodding furiously. “I just… I… Well. Sorry,” he repeats. With a warm smile, Floyd looks at me and asks, “Are you coming?” “Later. I love the outfit.” He laughs and takes Kegan, now dressed as a Cupid, by his hand and leaves for the party. Pec gives me one last exasperated look, and his costume of an overgrown sunflower only makes him look more pitiful. "I'm sorry," he repeats before hurrying after the others. <<button[[Continue|saturnalia_clothes]]>><</button>>

\<<set $lt_rumor_confirmed to true>> Stunned silence follows my crude words. Then, the whole room erupts into laughter. “You little slut,” Pec shouts in absolute delight. I acted my part in his play exactly as he envisioned. Should I be more careful about spreading such rumors? Perhaps. But I doubt anything serious actually happens. The others aren’t that interested in my relationships, or at least they have the tact to act like they’re not, and their conversation topics quickly change into what they’re going to do this evening. Pec, however, looks at me as if I’ve just admitted to a piece of the spiciest rumor he’s ever heard in his life. “Tell me everything,” he says as he puts on his costume for the evening. “What’s there to tell?” “Don’t play coy now.” He groans. “Do you understand how boring my life is? This is the most exciting thing I’ve heard in months. Let me live through you. Two Lords at the same time. Do you not understand how juicy that is?” His desperation makes me chuckle. The truth might not be as he envisions it, but it’s still fun to humor him. “Maybe later.” Pec purses his lips in disappointment, but accepts his fate. “Leave Hati alone,” Floyd, now dressed as a carrot, says as the men are ready to depart for tonight’s festivities. With a warm smile, he looks at me and asks, “Are you coming?” “Later. I love the outfit.” He laughs and takes Kegan, dressed as a Cupid, by his hand and leaves for the party. Pec gives me one last exasperated look, and his costume of an overgrown sunflower only makes him look more pitiful. "We need to talk properly later." "Just go already." <<button[[Continue|saturnalia_clothes]]>><</button>>

Pec gasps in absolute delight. “I thought it was but I didn’t dare to…” He takes my hand. “Tell me– I mean, tell us everything.” Floyd steps in, his forehead wrinkled in worry. “I don’t think you should spread such rumors. It could be dangerous.” “Hati said it’s fine,” Pec says as he protectively shields my hand against his chest. I nod at Floyd, but it’s not enough to wipe the frown off his face. “Go away, old man, let us talk in peace,” Pec says. Floyd grunts in annoyance and takes a step back to his bed where his carrot costume is waiting. Pec looks at me with his eyes bright. “Does he get you gifts?” he asks. “That’s your first question?” I laugh. “I can’t deny that I’m a little jealous,” he says meekly. “I want gifts and a pretty Lord boyfriend, too.” <<button[["He did try to buy me a new tunic."|sat_nialltunictry]]>><</button>> <<button[["He bought me a new tunic."|sat_nialltunic]]>><</button>> <<button[["You should probably put on your costume," I say, ending the conversation short.|sat_pecputyourcostumeon]]>><</button>>

\<<set $excited_outfit to true>> I can’t hide the smile from my face. I don’t even need to, Quinn looks just as happy when $q_he gently places the insides of $q_his bag on my bed. “You’ll love these,” $q_he says with confidence. There are five outfit options in total. Two that barely have enough fabric to cover me, one that only includes a helmet and a checkered cloak, and two with fur. One features a skull of sorts, and one that looks like a… mouse. <<button[[“What am I looking at, Quinn?” I ask.|sat_whatlooking?]]>><</button>>

I’m really not in the mood for this but I doubt fighting against these customs would prove fruitful. I can always leave early, if the mood strikes me. There are five outfit options in total. Two that barely have enough fabric to cover me, one that only includes a helmet and a checkered cloak, and two with fur. One features a skull of sorts, and one that looks like a… mouse. <<button[[“What am I looking at, Quinn?” I ask.|sat_whatlooking?]]>><</button>>

“Are you serious?” I ask with a sigh. “Deadly serious.” Quinn places the selection of outfits on the bed. “Why can’t I just go as myself?” “Because that’s boring! And, there’s a dress code. You might be kicked out. You don’t want that, right?” I didn’t realize it was that strict. Fine. There are five outfit options in total. Two that barely have enough fabric to cover me, one that only includes a helmet and a checkered cloak, and two with fur. One features a skull of sorts, and one that looks like a… mouse. <<button[[“What am I looking at, Quinn?” I ask.|sat_whatlooking?]]>><</button>>

“I’m so glad that you asked!” $q_He claps $q_his hands together like a little seal. $q_He’s awfully invested in my party plans. “Did you steal all of these?” I ask. “Yes.” “What–” “Now, let’s begin.” $q_He picks up the revealing women’s blue dress. “This doesn’t need any introductions, as I’m sure you recognize the Roman’s wiliest enemy’s costume.” $q_He shows me the skimpy dress with blue and gold embroidery on the hem and the neckline. The crown of the outfit is the golden headband. “Cleopatra?” I ask. I doubt the costume is historically accurate. “Yes! I think it would be fitting.” “And the other one?” “Hercules!” $q_He presents the golden loincloth with a wide grin. There’s a lion’s mane to top off the look. “This is the perfect choice if you really wanted to prance around naked but felt socially obligated to keep your clothes on.” The skimpy outfit looks like something Niall would wear. It’s just a loincloth with the skin of a lion’s head as a hood. “Is that a real lion?” I ask. “I guess. I stole it from the Legionary barracks.” “You stole– Quinn.” I frown. “Weren’t we supposed to lay low? And now you’re stealing a Saturnalia costume?” “It was just a little theft, no one will notice.” That’s not too convincing. \<<if (($build is "average") or ($build is "muscular"))>> “The perfect opportunity to show off your beautiful muscles.” $q_He gives me a bright smile. \<<else>> $q_He gives my arms a quick lookover, as if $q_he doesn’t already know them by heart. “I tried to find some leather sleeves that would’ve given you more of a muscular look but…” “You tried to find me fake muscles?” “But I failed. So I understand if you don’t want to–” I give $q_him a frown. “Are you serious?” “You’d look good either way, of course!” <</if>>\ \<<if (($build is "lithe") and ($sex is "female"))>> “How am I supposed to put this on? I can’t just–” I gesture at my chest. I’d rather not walk around bare chested at the party, even if I had a mask on. “Right! Not to worry,” Quinn says and scurries to fetch me something. $q_He hands me a lorica musculata, the similar cuirass the Legate wears. “It’s not real, it’s a replica,” Quinn says, as if it’s a shame. “I wanted to steal the Legate’s but–” “This is fine, thank you.” Soon the whole fort would be after me for stolen armor. “Hercules really liked to go around with his tits out but this would still look the part.” “Besides, you’d get that muscular look with this one. You’re a little scrawny for Hercules.” “You’re one to talk.” “But I’m not dressing up as Hercules, am I?” \<<elseif (($sex is "female") and ($build isnot "lithe"))>> “How am I supposed to put this on? I can’t just–” I gesture at my chest. I’d rather not walk around bare chested at the party, even if I had a mask on. “Right! Not to worry,” Quinn says and scurries to fetch me something. $q_He hands me a lorica musculata, the similar cuirass the Legate wears. “It’s not real, it’s a replica,” Quinn says, as if it’s a shame. “I wanted to steal the Legate’s but–” “This is fine, thank you.” Soon the whole fort would be after me for stolen armor. “Hercules really liked to go around with his tits out but this would still look the part.” <</if>>\ <<button[[''Carrying on...''|sat_carryonquinn]]>><</button>>

Quinn places the skimpy outfit back on the bed. “This one,” $q_he says and takes the helmet with two wings on it off the bed. “Is a replica of the helmet they said Arminius used in the battlefield against the Romans back when he surprised them with their pants down in the Teutoburg forest.” “Just the helmet and the cloak?” $q_He nods. “He used some Roman armor, so whatever you have works perfectly. Just go around talking about Teutoburg forest and make everyone piss themselves at the memory.” Quinn smiles wistfully at the thought. That’s certainly an option if I want to go with the least amount of effort. “And what’s this?” I look at the animal outfits. The mouse. There is a headband with two round, furry ears, and a full body outfit with a long tail. Quinn shrugs. “Mice are cute, you’d be cute, too.” $q_He pokes my nose with a grin. “We could paint your nose black and add some whiskers.” I swat $q_his hand away. “And the skull?” “Oh, this is just something I came up with.” $q_He shows me the wolf skull that’s missing its lower jaw, and a full body outfit with fur and real ribs sticking out of its chest. “You could scare people shitless with this one!” $q_He looks proud of $q_his creation. “Are these real bones?” “Yes, I boiled them, you know the drill.” \<<if $animal_lover is true>> “Did you kill a wolf for my costume?” I frown at the thought. “Well… I mean. The wolf lived a good life?” “Quinn.” “Sorry, I didn’t think it would bother you.” I sigh. At least $q_he apologized. Little good it does for the wolf, though. <</if>> "I'll pick the..." <<button[["Arminius outfit."|sat_arminius]]>><</button>> <<button[["Cleopatra outfit."|sat_cleopatra]]>><</button>> <<button[["Hercules outfit."|sat_hercules]]>><</button>> <<button[["Mouse outfit."|sat_mouse]]>><</button>> <<button[["Wolf monster outfit."|sat_wolfmonster]]>><</button>>

\<<set $arminius to true>> Quinn nods in approval. “Yes, good. Now, remember to talk about the Teutoburg, all sinister like. Maybe we’ll end up killing as many Romans as Arminius managed. Wouldn’t that be nice? Foreshadowing?” $q_He smiles brightly. \<<if $determined is true>> “He managed to kill two whole Legions,” I remind Quinn. “Let’s go for three!” \<<else>> “Us killing two whole Legions?” “Well, just one? Please?” I give $q_him a dismissive scoff. <</if>>\ “You can dress here. I won’t let anyone bother us," Quinn says. “Are you going to look at me change?” I ask. “Naturally.” \<<if $quinn_gender is "woman">> <<button[[Put on a show for her.|sat_showforquinn]]>><</button>> \<<else>> <<button[[Put on a show for him.|sat_showforquinn]]>><</button>> <</if>> <<button[[“Fine. Look.”|sat_finelookquinn]]>><</button>> <<button[["No. Turn around."|sat_noturnquinn]]>><</button>>

\<<set $cleopatra to true>> \<<if $sex is "female">> \<<set $mask to true>> <</if>>\ “Oh, a splendid pick!” Quinn claps $q_his hands. “I’ve missed seeing you in a dress.” “You and me both,” I say and take the dress to inspect it closer. There’s a considerate slit for showing off my thighs. My thighs most definitely deserve to enjoy some outdoor air after being concealed beneath trousers for so long. \<<if $sex is "female">> The neckline is also quite revealing. Good. Finally, a dress. I’m so tired of being called a man on a daily basis. Besides, my breasts need some time off from the bindings. “But what if the others will recognize me?” “Not to worry!” Quinn says and scurries off to fetch me a mask. It’s painted golden, the expression is fittingly neutral. Regal, even. “Now you can live off your dress dreams with your girls out and about.” I snort. “Thank you. You’ve really thought of everything.” “I aim to please.” \<<elseif $sex is "male">> “Do the Romans mind me dressing up like this? Should I be worried?” “It’s Saturnalia, they don't care.” “Oh, well. Good.” I’ve been soaked in masculine energy for months now. I think it’s time for a change. \<<elseif (($cis isnot true) and ($sex isnot "female"))>> I’ve suffered for long enough from being called a man on a daily basis. The thought of dressing how I want for a change makes the smile grow wider on my face. <</if>>\ “You can dress here. I won’t let anyone bother us," Quinn says. “Are you going to look at me change?” I ask. “Naturally.” \<<if $quinn_gender is "woman">> <<button[[Put on a show for her.|sat_showforquinn]]>><</button>> <<else>> <<button[[Put on a show for him.|sat_showforquinn]]>><</button>> <</if>> <<button[[“Fine. Look.”|sat_finelookquinn]]>><</button>> <<button[["No. Turn around."|sat_noturnquinn]]>><</button>>

\<<set $mask to true>> \<<set $wolfmonster to true>> “Oh, you’ll look absolutely deranged, a splendid pick!" $q_He claps $q_his hands in excitement. "You can dress here. I won’t let anyone bother us." “Are you going to look at me change?” I ask. “Naturally.” \<<if $quinn_gender is "woman">> <<button[[Put on a show for her.|sat_showforquinn]]>><</button>> <<else>> <<button[[Put on a show for him.|sat_showforquinn]]>><</button>> <</if>> <<button[[“Fine. Look.”|sat_finelookquinn]]>><</button>> <<button[["No. Turn around."|sat_noturnquinn]]>><</button>>

\<<set $mouse to true>> It’s a little silly but it seems like the most comfortable one out of the bunch. I will be covered up, I won’t be using a mask, just me in my one piece outfit and the cozy ears. Quinn’s eyes light up with delight. “A splendid choice, my friend. You’ll make a pretty little mouse.” $q_His eyes gleam with delight. “You can dress here. I won’t let anyone bother us." “Are you going to look at me change?” I ask. “Naturally.” \<<if $quinn_gender is "woman">> <<button[[Put on a show for her.|sat_showforquinn]]>><</button>> \<<else>> <<button[[Put on a show for him.|sat_showforquinn]]>><</button>> <</if>> <<button[[“Fine. Look.”|sat_finelookquinn]]>><</button>> <<button[["No. Turn around."|sat_noturnquinn]]>><</button>>

\<<set $hercules to true>> \<<if $build is "lithe">> Despite $q_him bullying me about it, or maybe precisely because of it, I choose the Hercules outfit. Quinn nods. “Hercules’s strength was in his heart, not in his–” “Shut up." \<<else>> "Excellent choice!" <</if>>\ “You can dress here. I won’t let anyone bother us," Quinn says. “Are you going to look at me change?” I ask. “Naturally.” \<<if $quinn_gender is "woman">> <<button[[Put on a show for her.|sat_showforquinn]]>><</button>> <<else>> <<button[[Put on a show for him.|sat_showforquinn]]>><</button>> <</if>> <<button[[“Fine. Look.”|sat_finelookquinn]]>><</button>> <<button[["No. Turn around."|sat_noturnquinn]]>><</button>>

I give $q_him a little smirk and start taking my clothes off in a suggestive manner. $q_He raises $q_his eyebrows in confusion. And that, in turn, makes me frown. What is there to be confused about? There’s not a trace of lust in $q_his gaze. $q_He just looks at me with curiosity and a strong sense of familiarity. \<<if $quinn_lover is true>> It almost makes me disappointed. <</if>>\ $q_He looks at my naked thighs. “You still have that nevus on your thigh,” $q_he says. “They don’t really leave.” $q_He nods thoughtfully. “Interesting.” <<button[[Continue|sat_quinndress]]>><</button>>

And $q_he does. For some reason, however, $q_his gaze isn’t as intrusive as I thought it would be. Instead, $q_he just looks at me with curiosity and a strong sense of familiarity. $q_He looks at my thighs, but there’s not a trace of lust in $q_his gaze. \<<if $quinn_lover is true>> It almost makes me disappointed. <</if>>\ “You still have that nevus on your thigh,” $q_he says. “They don’t really leave.” $q_He nods thoughtfully. “Interesting.” <<button[[Continue|sat_quinndress]]>><</button>>

$q_He gives me an annoyed purse of $q_his lips. “Really? But I’m your dearest friend and there’s nothing bad about me watching your perfect, naked skin.” “You made it really weird, Quinn, turn around.” With a little chuckle, $q_he obeys my words. <<button[[Continue|sat_quinndress]]>><</button>>

\<<if $cleopatra is true>> I put the dress on. It fits me like a glove, Quinn really knows what $q_he’s doing. I turn to Quinn to see $q_him looking at me with a wide smile on $q_his face. “You look radiant.” "Why, thank you." \<<elseif $arminius is true>> I put on the regular armor I wear almost daily. To top it off, I put the helmet and the cloak on. “Good,” Quinn says with an approving nod. “It’s low effort but sends the right message. Perfect.” <<button[[Continue|sat_quinnseriously]]>><</button>> \<<elseif (($hercules is true) and ($sex is "male"))>> I put the outfit on. Or, to be more precise, I remove all my clothes and put on a skimpy little loincloth. “You look dashing,” Quinn says with an approving nod. “If you twirled right now, I bet I’d see your butt cheeks.” “Is that a challenge?” $q_He grins. \<<elseif (($hercules is true) and ($sex is "female"))>> I put the outfit on. Or, to be more precise, I remove all my clothes and put on a skimpy little loincloth. And the lorica musculata. “You look dashing,” Quinn says with an approving nod. “If you twirled right now, I bet I’d see your butt cheeks.” “Is that a challenge?” $q_He grins. \<<elseif $wolfmonster is true>> Once the skull rests on my head and the ribs press on my sides, I feel… Different. More primal. The scent of death engulfs me. “You look absolutely terrifying,” Quinn says with a wide smile on $q_his face. “It’s amazing, I love it.” “Thank you.” Somehow, my voice rings a little lower. “What if you just massacred the whole tavern dressed like that?” Quinn asks with gleaming eyes. “Quinn.” “Oh, right, sorry. Just a little thought I had, sorry." \<<elseif $mouse is true>> I put the outfit on without much effort. It’s extremely snug, it makes me feel as comfortable as I thought it would. Quinn gives me a smile. The smile reveals too many teeth. “Quinn?” $q_He blinks, and the smile turns back to $q_his usual. “I knew you would look cute in it. So cute.” $q_He lets $q_his gaze slowly take in all of my mouse-clad body. “Quinn?” I say again. Something about $q_his gaze makes me take a step back. $q_He blinks at my movement. “Oh. You’re just so cute,” $q_he repeats the sentiment and smiles as if nothing out of the ordinary happened. “Anyway…” <</if>> <<button[[Continue|sat_quinnseriously]]>><</button>>

$q_He’s taking all of this awfully seriously. “Why do you care so much about me going to the party?” \<<if $quinn_lover is true>> $q_He gives me a pointed look. “Your friends will be there. The ones you’re supposed to befriend in order for us to reach our goals.” Always so quick to push me towards others, urging me to connect and get close. With others. It almost makes me feel like a prostitute. “You won’t be there?” $q_He gives me a surprised smile. “Of course not. I hate parties.” “But you’ll force me to attend one?” “Precisely. You’re the face of this operation.” I sigh. <<button[["I don't want to go without you."|sat_nogowithoutquinn]]>><</button>> <<button[["Fine. But I won't like it."|sat_wontlikeitquinn]]>><</button>> <<button[[Remain silent.|sat_silentnoquinn]]>><</button>> \<<else>> $q_He gives me a pointed look. “Your friends will be there. The ones you’re supposed to befriend in order for us to reach our goals.” “Besides,” $q_he continues, “Important things might happen.” “Might? You know something?” $q_He doesn’t give me an answer, just gives me a wide smile. “Could you just give me a direct answer when I ask for it?” “When it’s the right time. I won’t be there, of course.” Maybe it’s for the better. $q_He might end up killing someone. <<button[["I have a gift for you."|sat_quinngift]]>><</button>> <<button[["Thank you for the outfit. I should go now."|sat_quinngo]]>><</button>> <</if>>\

$q_He smiles. “Don’t be like that. You need to be there. Trust me, alright?” \<<if $quinn_trust is true>> “I’m trying,” I mutter. \<<elseif $trust_quinn_100 is true>> “Of course,” I say with a sigh. \<<else>> “You know I don’t,” I say, crossing my arms. Then, exhale a resigned sigh. “But fine.” <</if>>\ “It’s not about trust anyway,” I say with a small frown. “I want you to be there with me.” “Because…?” “Quinn. I want to spend time with you. Is that difficult to understand?” “Right, right.” $q_He waves my words off. Then, when $q_he sees my face, $q_he backtracks. “I mean, of course it’s not difficult to understand, not at all. And I would like to be there with you, too. But I have things to do, places to be. And the party is your place to be.” “...Right.” “For now.” $q_He gives me a quick smile. “Things will change soon. Trust me.” <<button[["I have a gift for you."|sat_quinngift]]>><</button>> <<button[["Thank you for the outfit. I should go now."|sat_quinngo]]>><</button>>

I don’t like this but Quinn won’t probably care. $q_He’s got that look on $q_his face that tells me $q_he’s lost all hearing and comprehension. $q_He’s just happy to help me get to the party. Quinn gives me a perky nod. “Yes, good. Glad that got sorted out.” <<button[["I have a gift for you."|sat_quinngift]]>><</button>> <<button[["Thank you for the outfit. I should go now."|sat_quinngo]]>><</button>>

“You don’t have to like it,” $q_he coos and starts putting the remaining clothes back into $q_his bag. “I won’t.” “I heard you for the first time.” “But it seems like you don’t care.” “Of course I care, you are my dear friend and your feelings are the utmost important thing for me in this whole wide world,” $q_he mutters as $q_he starts putting the remaining clothes back into $q_his bag. $q_He really looks like $q_he doesn’t care. <<button[["I have a gift for you."|sat_quinngift]]>><</button>> <<button[["Thank you for the outfit. I should go now."|sat_quinngo]]>><</button>>

“You should really get going,” $q_he says as $q_he starts to leave. “Wait, Quinn. I have a gift for you.” $q_His brows lift. “Oh! I don’t have anything for you. Well, apart from the power of my friendship. And the stolen clothes.” “That’s sufficient enough, thank you.” “I need to get you something.” “You don’t have to–” “I don’t have any money but I can–” “Don’t go stealing gifts for me, alright?” “...Fine.” Quinn strains $q_his neck to see what’s behind my back. “What is it?” <<button[[A bone amulet to protect from evil.|sat_quinnamulet]]>><</button>>

“You should really get going,” $q_he says as $q_he starts to leave. I give $q_him a quick, appreciative nod. At least I have something to wear, thanks to $q_him. “Have fun!” $q_he says and disappears through the door. I suppose I’ll have to try. <<button[[Continue|saturnalia!]]>><</button>>

\<<set $quinn_gift to true>> “What is this?” “I carved it. It’s–” “A rune. Protection from evil,” Quinn says, inspecting the amulet. Then, $q_he starts laughing. “I really need this.” “I know.” Whatever I felt during Samhain still sends shivers down my spine. “I hope it works.” \<<if $quinn_lover is true>> $q_He gives me a quick kiss on my mouth, catching me off guard. “It’s made by you, of course it works.” $q_He retreats with a big smile on $q_his face. “Your kisses are like little sneak attacks. They always catch me off guard.” <</if>>\ “You are such a good friend,” $q_he says with a fond smile on $q_his face. “The best. You don’t want me to die.” “Of course I don’t want you to die. What kind of a–” “And I think that’s beautiful. That’s what it means to be a friend.” “That’s certainly the bare minimum, yes.” There’s such a wide smile on $q_his face that it almost looks that it hurts. “Are you alright?” I ask. “I’m just so happy that you’re my friend.” Without a warning, $q_he grabs me into $q_his embrace. “You’re the best friend that I’ve had.” <<button[[Return the hug.|sat_hugquinn]]>><</button>> <<button[[Wiggle free.|sat_wigglefreequinn]]>><</button>> <<button[["Just a friend?"|sat_justfriendsquinn?]]>><</button>>

\<<set $bad_cook to true>> I clear my throat. Maybe I should’ve bought something, instead. I burned almost all of them, and the rest taste a little… Weird. But still, I give $q_him the bag. “Cookies!” Quinn takes one and puts it immediately in $q_his mouth. “I was so hungry, thank–” $q_He frowns and stops chewing. I clear my throat. “I tried my best.” “They’re a little different from what I usually eat,” $q_he says, $q_his tone cordial. “It’s… Interesting.” $q_He gives me a quick, reassuring smile. “But different doesn’t mean bad, of course. It’s really edible, thank you.” “Edible?” “Yes, mm. Really edible. Thank you so much. I will definitely eat all of these.” “When you say it like that, it sounds like you won’t eat them.” “How should I say it?” “I can take the cookies back.” “No, no. These are mine now. Thank you so much.” $q_He shields the bag from my hands.

I exhale and get comfortable in $q_his arms. $q_He hugs me like $q_he doesn’t ever want to let me go. $q_He hugs me with such ferocity, it’s almost difficult to inhale. “You could loosen your grip a little,” I say. “I hear your heartbeat,” $q_he says, ignoring my plea. “It sounds so beautiful.” “Alright, but could you–” $q_He lets me go with a big smile on $q_his face. “Thank you,” $q_he says again. $q_He puts the amulet on. “I really need this for tonight.” “What? What’s going to happen tonight?” “Oh? Nothing.” “Quinn.” “Nothing will happen because I have this! Anyway, I will have to go now. Have fun at the party.” $q_He gives me a quick, and less violent hug, and scurries to the door. “But–” “Have fun!” $q_he says and disappears. I’m left looking at the door with a frown on my face. The disappearing act is getting a little old. But it’s no use trying to get to $q_him. $q_He clearly wants to be alone, and for me to attend the party. ‘Have fun’? I suppose I’ll have to try. <<button[[Continue|saturnalia!]]>><</button>>

It’s like fighting against the jaws of a shark. “I hear your heartbeat,” $q_he says, ignoring my struggles. “It sounds so beautiful.” “Let me go!” “Oh?” $q_He looks at me with seemingly genuine surprise in $q_his eyes. “Sorry, didn’t mean to hug you so tightly.” $q_He lets me go. “But I meant to say that I really need this tonight.” “What? What’s going to happen tonight?” “Oh? Nothing.” “Quinn.” “Nothing will happen because I have this! Anyway, I will have to go now. Have fun at the party.” $q_He gives me a quick, and less violent hug, and scurries to the door. “But–” “Have fun!” $q_he says and disappears. I’m left looking at the door with a frown on my face. The disappearing act is getting a little old. But it’s no use trying to get to $q_him. $q_He clearly wants to be alone, and for me to attend the party. ‘Have fun’? I suppose I’ll have to try. <<button[[Continue|saturnalia!]]>><</button>>

My voice is a little hoarse from getting squeezed so tightly by $q_him. $q_He hugs me with such ferocity, it’s almost difficult to breathe. “I hear your heartbeat,” $q_he says, ignoring my question. It’s difficult to say if $q_he even heard it or if $q_he’s acting like $q_he didn’t. “It sounds so beautiful.” Why does $q_he say those affectionate things so freely, yet acts like we’re nothing more than friends? $q_He lets me go with a big smile on $q_his face. “Thank you,” $q_he says again. $q_He puts the amulet on. “I really need this for tonight.” “What? What’s going to happen tonight?” “Oh? Nothing.” “Quinn.” “Nothing will happen because I have this! Anyway, I will have to go now. Have fun at the party.” $q_He gives me a quick, and less violent hug, and scurries to the door. “But–” “Have fun!” $q_he says and disappears. I’m left looking at the door with a frown on my face. The disappearing act is getting a little old. But it’s no use trying to get to $q_him. $q_He clearly wants to be alone, and for me to attend the party. ‘Have fun’? I suppose I’ll have to try. <<button[[Continue|saturnalia!]]>><</button>>

The scent of sweat, perfume, and grilled meat assaults my nostrils as I open the door to the tavern. Movement litters the floor, people smacking each others’ backs, opening their mouths wide in laughter. There are vegetables and gods on the dance floor, swaying to the music. Amateur musicians battle over being heard the loudest over the drunk singing and shouting. Someone bumps on my shoulder, muttering curses over me blocking the doorway. <<button[[I love it.|sat_loveparty]]>><</button>> <<button[[Let's just get this over with.|sat_mehsaturnalia]]>><</button>> <<button[[No. I don't want to be here.|sat_extremelyreluctantsaturnalia]]>><</button>>

\<<set $party_animal to true>> Despite my previous protests, despite the sensory overload, I can’t help but to smile when I see the party unfolding in front of my eyes. I take a deep breath, inhaling everything the people here have to offer. Let the party begin. \<<if (($camilla_bath is true) or ($tinsae_bath is true))>> <<button[[Someone's playing lyre on the sofa.|sat_camilla?]]>><</button>> <<button[[I think I hear Tinsae.|sat_tinsae?]]>><</button>> \<<elseif $lovetriangleroute is true>> <<button[[There's a familiar brooding figure in the corner.|sat_marcus?]]>><</button>> \<<elseif $niall_soloroute is true>> <<button[[Where is Niall?|sat_niall?]]>><</button>> \<<elseif $marcus_soloroute is true>> <<button[[There's a familiar brooding figure in the corner.|sat_marcus?]]>><</button>> <</if>>\

\<<set $party_pooper to true>> I stifle the grimace threatening to force its way to my lips. Disgusting. Why am I here again? I can almost imagine Quinn giving my shoulder a light shove. ‘Have fun.’ I scoff. \<<if (($camilla_bath is true) or ($tinsae_bath is true))>> <<button[[Someone's playing lyre on the sofa.|sat_camilla?]]>><</button>> <<button[[I think I hear Tinsae.|sat_tinsae?]]>><</button>> \<<elseif $lovetriangleroute is true>> <<button[[There's a familiar brooding figure in the corner.|sat_marcus?]]>><</button>> \<<elseif $niall_soloroute is true>> <<button[[Where is Niall?|sat_niall?]]>><</button>> \<<elseif $marcus_soloroute is true>> <<button[[There's a familiar brooding figure in the corner.|sat_marcus?]]>><</button>> <</if>>\

Am I thrilled to be here? No. Will I suffer? Most likely. But I won’t let it show. \<<if (($camilla_bath is true) or ($tinsae_bath is true))>> <<button[[Someone's playing lyre on the sofa.|sat_camilla?]]>><</button>> <<button[[I think I hear Tinsae.|sat_tinsae?]]>><</button>> \<<elseif $lovetriangleroute is true>> <<button[[There's a familiar brooding figure in the corner.|sat_marcus?]]>><</button>> \<<elseif $niall_soloroute is true>> <<button[[Where is Niall?|sat_niall?]]>><</button>> \<<elseif $marcus_soloroute is true>> <<button[[There's a familiar brooding figure in the corner.|sat_marcus?]]>><</button>> \<<else>> <<button[[I wish that Quinn came with me.|sat_alone]]>><</button>> <</if>>\

Niall is nowhere to be found. There’s a flock of people, young and old, gathered to look at something. They’re smiling and laughing, they’re the loudest group in the tavern. “Excuse me,” I say and lightly push people out of my way. There’s a man in the middle of them all. A man I know too well. Niall. He’s dancing with two women. Strings of pearls rest upon his clean shaven chest. A crown of seashells decorates his red, wavy hair. A white loincloth barely covers his behind when he twirls with the rhythm of the music. His large body sways with grace and ease, completely immersed into the tune, the atmosphere, the people around him. He smiles at the crowd and they smile at him. He looks at home. He never looks like that with me. He’d trip on his feet if he was with me. <<button[[I should leave. I feel uncomfortable.|sat_niallleave]]>><</button>> <<button[[''Niall?''|sat_niallcallout]]>><</button>>

Marcus leans against a corner table with a bored look on his face. He’s only wearing a simple cloth covering his hips and the other half of his chest. There’s a small, dried leaf on his hair. \<<if (($loud_pervert is true) or ($shy_pervert is true) and ($marcus_bath is true))>> Before I can think better of it, I let my gaze wander on his muscular frame. I’ve already seen him naked, but when he’s not focused on trying to make me uncomfortable, inspecting his body feels different. Of course, I’ve seen him multiple times naked already. And something about the fact makes me shiver in disgust. Alas, he's not bad to look at, even if I’d never tell it to his face. \<<elseif (($loud_pervert is true) or ($shy_pervert is true) and ($marcus_bath isnot true))>> Before I can think better of it, I let my gaze wander on his muscular frame. I’ve already seen him naked, but when he’s not focused on trying to make me uncomfortable, inspecting his body feels different. He’s not bad to look at, even if I’d never tell it to his face. <</if>>\ \<<if $niall_fight is true>> His swollen nose must not have been part of his plan for tonight. He managed to get patched up well enough, but the aftermath of the fight is still clearly visible in his face. <</if>>\ He takes a sip of his wine and looks at the crowd. He almost looks like he’s waiting for someone. Seeing him this relaxed in such a different setting is almost off putting. It makes him look human, not the murderer he is. \<<if (($marcus_killer is true) or ($determined is true))>> Disgusting. <</if>>\ Well, I'm here. I suppose I should greet him. \<<if (($marcus_killer is true) or ($determined is true))>> He looks so lonely. It’s pathetic. \<<else>> I don’t need to dwell on the reasons why I’m currently walking towards him. Or why the thought doesn’t particularly disturb me. Or why I’m weirdly happy to see him. No. I can think about that later. <</if>>\ \<<if $mask is true>> <<button[[Continue|sat_marcus_mask]]>><</button>> \<<elseif (($mask isnot true) and ($fight_bystander is true))>> <<button[["How's your nose?" I ask.|sat_marcus_nose?]]>><</button>> \<<else>> <<button[["Io Saturnalia."|sat_marcus_iosaturnalia]]>><</button>> <</if>>\

There’s someone sitting in the corner of the room, plucking their lyre, listening to the sounds they make with their head tilted to the side. A golden mask hides their identity, and a purple-trimmed toga hides their body shape. Their red hair is a curly mess. The movement of their hands is familiar. “Emperor Nero, I presume?” The Emperor who laughed while Rome was burning. Camilla lets out a dry laugh, muffled by the mask. Her saffron perfume tries and fails to hide the faint scent of wine lingering on her. She lifts her mask just enough for her lips to show. She needs to be able to sip her wine, after all. <<button[["You got out of your room arrest?"|sat_camilla_roomarrest?]]>><</button>> <<button[[Sit beside her silently.|sat_camillasitbesideher]]>><</button>> <<button[[''I'll sit next to you if you promise not to beat me up again.''|sat_camillabeatmeup?]]>><</button>>

Tinsae’s bright laugh catches my attention over the chatter of the people. It’s all too easy to spot her in the sea of people. She’s dressed as the sun itself, rays of sunshine protrude out of the golden crown she’s wearing. Golden accessories compete with the brightness of her smile. Her curvy frame is barely concealed by her generous white dress. It hugs her full figure snuggly, her cleavage is prominently showing. Just then, I realize to look at the man she’s talking to. He seems to be one of the Legate’s friends, full of himself, in love with his own voice. When inspecting the situation further, the man talking to Tinsae seems to be, in truth, talking at her cleavage. He can’t seem to take his eyes off her breasts. <<button[[How disgusting of him to treat her like an object.|sat_objecttinsae]]>><</button>> <<button[[I look at Tinsae.|sat_looktinsae]]>><</button>>

Coming soon.

The said thighs are quite prominent and I can understand why he’d like to show them off, but he shouldn’t go around flaunting them. Especially during winter. Quinn nods. “Yes, he looks like a whore. A freezing one at that.” “Don’t call him a whore.” “Isn’t that why you’re covering him?” <<button[["No, he's just cold."|sat_coldwhore]]>><</button>> <<button[["Well, yes. But only I can call him that."|sat_exclusivewhorecallingright]]>><</button>>

I couldn’t possibly buy him anything he doesn’t already have. He’s a rich man, some would even call him spoiled, he’s got everything he needs. But he doesn’t have this one. I take the bracelet out of my cloak. \<<if $hobby_fashion is true>> The knotwork resembles Celtic knots, something he might appreciate. The color green will compliment his red hair and the floral embroidery will be to his liking. “It’s beautiful,” Quinn says. “Don’t tell me you made it yourself?” “It wasn’t that difficult.” I shrug. $q_He gives me a small pout, as if upset that $q_he didn’t get one. “Are you jealous?” I ask teasingly. “Hm.” $q_He stops to think. Then, $q_he nods fiercely. “Yes, this is definitely jealousy. It eats at my stomach.” $q_He frowns at the sensation. “Maybe if you’re nice, I’ll get you something, too.” “I’m always nice.” I let out an amused scoff. \<<else>> And, frankly, no one else should have one, either. I tried my best with the knotwork but my lack of skills got the better of me. I tried to work with the colors I had available, and the combination of browns, grays, and yellows don’t seem to work that well together. Quinn snorts loudly at the sight of it. “It looks like something a rat threw up.” “You won’t get one,” I say with a frown as I hide the bracelet back in my cloak. “Oh, no,” $q_he says, clearly sarcastic. <</if>> \<<if $lovetriangleroute is true>> "Is this all? Can we go now?" Quinn asks. <<button[["I'll get one for Marcus, too."|sat_marcusgifttoo]]>><</button>> <<button[["We can leave. Marcus doesn't need a gift."|sat_nogiftformarcus]]>><</button>> \<<else>> <<button[[Continue|sat_giftforquinn?]]>><</button>> <</if>>\

The man is quite jittery, prone to overthinking and emotional turmoil. He must already have the knowledge and the herbs to help with that, but it’s the thought that matters. \<<if $herbalist is true>> I help myself at the herbalist and choose an array of herbs that I know are comforting for the mind. \<<else>> I ask for the herbalist’s help to help me find calming herbs for a massive, jittery man. With a polite laugh, she helps me to pick the right ones. <</if>>\ I also buy a bottle of honey to sweeten the drink, and a little pouch for the herbs. The pouch has a cute little bee embroidered in it. It’s perfect. Quinn nods at the purchase. “Something for his nerves? He really needs that.” “You’re not helping with it. What’s with the death stare everytime you see him?” “I loathe him,” $q_he simply says. “He resembles everything that’s wrong with the world today.” “That’s a little dramatic.” “You don’t think so? He’s out here, baring his ass cheeks for the Romans. He should be leading the charge against them. He’s ridiculously soft and malleable.” “That’s a little–” “But, at least it means we can use him." \<<if $niall_user isnot true>> “You’re too harsh,” I simply say. I can’t deny that I’ve held some bitterness towards his Romanness, but the situation is more complex than that. “Romans kidnapped him when he was a child. They’ve brainwashed him.” Quinn lets out a dubious grunt. The resentment runs deep within $q_him. \<<else>> I can’t help but to somewhat agree with $q_him. Niall is soft and he’s grown too comfortable with living with the enemy. <</if>> \<<if $lovetriangleroute is true>> "Is this all? Can we go now?" Quinn asks. <<button[["I'll get one for Marcus, too."|sat_marcusgifttoo]]>><</button>> <<button[["We can leave. Marcus doesn't need a gift."|sat_nogiftformarcus]]>><</button>> \<<else>> <<button[[Continue|sat_giftforquinn?]]>><</button>> <</if>>\

\<<set $marcus_gift to true>> $q_He groans loudly. “Really? Why? Is it even a prank gift?” “We’ll see.” Quinn doesn't look happy about the information, but reluctantly follows me to the next booth with a smiling clerk. \<<if $determined is true>> Yes, I want to see his head on a spike but that doesn’t mean I shouldn’t get him something first. Besides, it doesn’t have to be a nice present. \<<else>> I don’t know why I’m even bothering to get him a gift in the first place. But here I am. Might as well get him something. Besides, it doesn’t have to be a nice present. <</if>>\ I look at the selection. Something catches my eye… <<button[[A comb. The curse should be working by now...|sat_combmarcus]]>><</button>> <<button[[Some boring poetry book.|sat_bookmarcus]]>><</button>> <<button[[A stylus. He likes writing.|sat_penmarcus]]>><</button>>

“Thank the Underworld, I agree. He doesn’t need one. Maybe a kick on the balls?” "Maybe." “Let’s leave,” Quinn says, clearly uncomfortable by something. “What’s wrong?” “I hate the crowd. Makes me feel itchy and annoyed.” $q_He scratches $q_himself for the dramatic effect. “Fine, we have all we need.” <<button[[Continue|birds_been_chirping]]>><</button>>

\<<set $niall_gift to true>> Quinn squints $q_his eyes at me in absolute delight. “Ah, yes. Pitting the two brothers against each other. Perfect.” \<<if $niall_user is true>> “Something like that,” I agree. \<<else>> “Well, no, I just–” “Perfect,” Quinn repeats, nodding to $q_himself, completely ignoring my attempts at denial. <</if>> <<button[[I have a hand-woven bracelet for him.|sat_niallbracelet]]>><</button>> <<button[[Some herbal drink to soothe his nerves?|sat_herbaldrinkniall]]>><</button>> <<button[[A longer tunic to hide his thighs?|sat_niallthighs]]>><</button>>

“Ooh, playing two dames at the same time,” $q_he says approvingly. “Thank the demons, too, I was worried that you’re putting all your money on the witch.” “Don’t call her–” “Yes, yes," $q_he says and starts walking towards the vendors. <<button[[Continue|sat_camillagift]]>><</button>>

“Uh-huh,” Quinn says, clearly not believing my words. With a scoff, I turn back to the tunics. I’m not some jealous partner who’s subtly slutshaming their significant other. No. I’m just concerned about Niall’s comfort. I don’t really have the money for the more fancier clothes, so I’ll have to resort to a plainer design. There’s one with Celtic-inspired knots on the hem and sleeves. It looks actually quite nice. \<<if $lovetriangleroute is true>> "Is this all? Can we go now?" Quinn asks. <<button[["I'll get one for Marcus, too."|sat_marcusgifttoo]]>><</button>> <<button[["We can leave. Marcus doesn't need a gift."|sat_nogiftformarcus]]>><</button>> \<<else>> <<button[[Continue|sat_giftforquinn?]]>><</button>> <</if>>\

“Excuse me,” Quinn says. “He is your whore, after all.” Quinn is taking every opportunity to insult Niall. I choose to ignore it. I don’t really have the money for the more fancier clothes, so I’ll have to resort to a plainer design. There’s one with Celtic-inspired knots on the hem and sleeves. It looks actually quite nice. \<<if $lovetriangleroute is true>> "Is this all? Can we go now?" Quinn asks. <<button[["I'll get one for Marcus, too."|sat_marcusgifttoo]]>><</button>> <<button[["We can leave. Marcus doesn't need a gift."|sat_nogiftformarcus]]>><</button>> \<<else>> <<button[[Continue|sat_giftforquinn?]]>><</button>> <</if>>\

“You didn’t accept it?” He looks at me as if the very thought confuses him. “It would’ve made me feel like I owe him, in a way. I’m not good with gifts.” “Gods, can’t relate at all,” he says with a dreamy smirk. “Maybe I should hand you the gifts he tries to give me.” “Yes, please!” Floyd cuts in, now dressed as a carrot, “Pec, put your costume on, the rest of us are already ready.” “Ugh, fine!” With a warm smile, Floyd looks at me and asks, “Are you coming?” “Later. I love the outfit.” He laughs and takes Kegan, now dressed as a Cupid, by his hand and leaves for the party. Pec gives me one last exasperated look, and his costume of an overgrown sunflower only makes him look more pitiful. "We need to talk properly later." "Just go already." <<button[[Continue|saturnalia_clothes]]>><</button>>

“Oh, the one that looks like it fits you perfectly? I knew it wasn’t chosen by you!” \<<if $hobby_fashion is true>> “Excuse me, I know my way around colors and patterns that compliment me,” I quickly defend myself. “But yes, I wouldn’t have had the money to get it myself.” \<<else>> “I can clothe myself, thank you very much. But yes, it does look good on me.” <</if>>\ “You lucky bastard,” he mutters. He gives me a wide, dreamy grin to let me know that he’s not serious in his jealousy. At least not in a way that I should be worried about. Floyd cuts in, now dressed as a carrot, “Pec, put your costume on, the rest of us are already ready.” “Ugh, fine!” With a warm smile, Floyd looks at me and asks, “Are you coming?” “Later. I love the outfit.” He laughs and takes Kegan, now dressed as a Cupid, by his hand and leaves for the party. Pec gives me one last exasperated look, and his costume of an overgrown sunflower only makes him look more pitiful. "We need to talk properly later." "Just go already." <<button[[Continue|saturnalia_clothes]]>><</button>>

He gives me a small pout. “Really? You’re giving me nothing?” “No. I doubt Niall would appreciate it.” “You’re referring to him by his first name? His given name?” His eyes widen at the piece of news I accidentally shared with him. Floyd cuts in, half dressed as a carrot. “Leave Hati alone and put your clothes on!” “Ugh, fine!” With a warm smile, Floyd looks at me and asks, “Are you coming?” “Later. I love the outfit.” He laughs and takes Kegan, now dressed as a Cupid, by his hand and leaves for the party. Pec gives me one last exasperated look, and his costume of an overgrown sunflower only makes him look more pitiful. "We need to talk properly later." "Just go already." <<button[[Continue|saturnalia_clothes]]>><</button>>

Only I can do that. “$q_He’s just had a difficult life.” Floyd gives me a quick, apologetic nod. “I’m sorry, you’re right.” He gives the rest of the group a stern look to stop them from commenting further. All of them manage to keep their mouths shut about this. Good. Rumors about $q_him and I can prove a nuisance, but most likely nothing more than that. Floyd, now dressed as a carrot, gives me a warm smile as the men are ready to depart for tonight’s festivities. He asks, “Are you coming?” “Later. I love the outfit.” He laughs and takes Kegan, dressed as a Cupid, by his hand and leaves for the party. Pec gives me one last disappointed look, and his costume of an overgrown sunflower only makes him look more pitiful. <<button[[Continue|saturnalia_clothes]]>><</button>>

Quinn certainly can come across as an unsettling individual, I cannot lie. So, I nod along with their accusations. “You’re not upset that we’re calling $q_him unsettling?” Floyd asks, most likely confused that he doesn’t have to offer me an apology for their words “No, not really. $q_He can be that.” The stare $q_he gives other people than me can be quite nightmarish. “Oh. Well… I’m still sorry.” “I’m not,” Pec mutters under his breath. Floyd throws a stern glance at him. Floyd, now dressed as a carrot, gives me a warm smile as the men are ready to depart for tonight’s festivities. He asks, “Are you coming?” “Later. I love the outfit.” He laughs and takes Kegan, dressed as a Cupid, by his hand and leaves for the party. Pec gives me one last disappointed look, and his costume of an overgrown sunflower only makes him look more pitiful. <<button[[Continue|saturnalia_clothes]]>><</button>>

The rumor about me and Quinn being together is hardly something to get excited about. \<<if $quinn_gender is "man">> Sure, he’s a man, so the relationship between us is a little taboo. However, neither of us are citizens of Rome, our relationship dynamics shouldn't be that interesting for the Roman army. <</if>>\ I doubt anyone cares. Even Pec looks like he wished his piece of information was juicier than it was. Floyd says, “I’m sorry for implying that $q_he’s unsettling.” I merely shrug and the conversation is over with that. The others proceed to put on their costumes for the night. Floyd, now dressed as a carrot, gives me a warm smile as the men are ready to depart for tonight’s festivities. He asks, “Are you coming?” “Later. I love the outfit.” He laughs and takes Kegan, dressed as a Cupid, by his hand and leaves for the party. Pec gives me one last disappointed look, and his costume of an overgrown sunflower only makes him look more pitiful. <<button[[Continue|saturnalia_clothes]]>><</button>>

I can already imagine Niall breaking down when he hears that our relationship is already a talk of the fort. \<<if $niall_user is true>> It would be a burden to witness. Besides, I’d rather not deal with these kinds of rumors myself. <</if>>\ “No,” I simply say, dismissing everything they’ve heard. “But–” “And if you think spreading such rumors isn’t a safety hazard for me, you’re even more of a fool than I thought.” That, finally, shuts him up. “I, uh… I’m sorry,” he mutters. Floyd cuts in, now dressed as a carrot, “Pec, put your costume on, the rest of us are already ready. I’m sure you will shoot all such rumors down in the future to protect Hati.” “I will,” Pec says, nodding furiously. “I just… I… Well. Sorry,” he repeats. With a warm smile, Floyd looks at me and asks, “Are you coming?” “Later. I love the outfit.” He laughs and takes Kegan, now dressed as a Cupid, by his hand and leaves for the party. Pec gives me one last exasperated look, and his costume of an overgrown sunflower only makes him look more pitiful. "I'm sorry," he repeats before hurrying after the others. <<button[[Continue|saturnalia_clothes]]>><</button>>

I smile behind my mask. I wonder if he’ll recognize me? \<<if $fire is true>> “Hello there, shithead,” I say as a greeting. He lets out a laugh, immediately recognizing me. “Io Saturnalia to you, too, moron.” \<<elseif $air is true>> I stare at him through my mask. He frowns at me, clearly not recognizing me. “Get lost.” Rude. Shouldn’t be a surprise. “Io Saturnalia to you, too,” I remark dryly. The frown on his face turns into surprise, then, weirdly enough, joy. "Io Saturnalia." \<<elseif $earth is true>> “Hello,” I simply say in a deadpan voice. He frowns at me, not recognizing my voice through the muffled mask. “Get lost.” “Io Saturnalia to you, too,” I remark dryly. The frown on his face turns into surprise, then, weirdly enough, joy. "Io Saturnalia." \<<elseif (($water is true) and ($wolfmonster is true))>> “Hello there,” I say. He frowns at my greeting. “Is that you under that freakish skull?” “No, it’s your mother.” He lets out a dry laugh. “My mother would’ve never. She had class.” “Where I come from, this is considered classy,” I say. “Io Saturnalia.” “Io Saturnalia.” \<<elseif (($water is true) and ($wolfmonster isnot true))>> He frowns at my greeting. Then, when he seemingly realizes it’s me, his face turns into something akin to joy. “Io Saturnalia.” <</if>> <<button[[Continue|sat_marcus_wearing?]]>><</button>>

He sighs. “Io Saturnalia to you, too, you asshole.” “I wasn’t the one who beat you up.” “No. But you were happy about it.” “No comment.” <<button[[Continue|sat_marcus_wearing?]]>><</button>>

He smiles at the sound of my voice, turning to fully see me. “Io Saturnalia.” Why does he look so happy to see me? \<<if (($marcus_killer is true) or ($determined is true))>> The idiot. \<<else>> Why am I even here? Why is there’s a strange sort of lightness in the pit of my stomach when I see the genuine smile on his face? The party is already making me lightheaded and I haven’t even touched wine. I shouldn't have come here. <</if>>\ <<button[[Continue|sat_marcus_wearing?]]>><</button>>

Marcus gives me an amused smile as he inspects my outfit. \<<if $cleopatra is true>> <<button[[Continue|sat_marcuscleopatra]]>><</button>> \<<elseif (($hercules is true) and ($build is "average"))>> “Hercules? How original,” he says with a smirk. I scoff. “Says the low effort whatever you’re supposed to look like. Besides, why not show off the assets the gods have given me?” I flex my bicep with the confidence of a true Hercules. He gives me an approving nod. In return, he flexes his own bicep. “Mine is bigger,” he says. “No, it’s not.” He scoffs. “It is clearly bigger. We need a measure…” “You’re delusional. Just look at it.” I bring my arm closer to his, with our skin almost touching. “Look at it,” I insist as I flex my muscles with every strength that I’ve got. When Marcus says nothing to deny the obvious fact, I glance at him. I didn’t realize how close his face is. And the look on his face makes me realize that this is not a good idea. I clear my throat and retreat. “All in all, mine is bigger.” “Agree to disagree,” he says with a little chuckle. \<<elseif (($hercules is true) and ($build is "muscular"))>> “Hercules? How original,” he says with a smirk. I scoff. “Says the low effort whatever you’re supposed to look like. Besides, why not show off the assets the gods have given me?” I flex my massive bicep with the confidence of a true Hercules. He gives me an approving nod. “Impressive.” “Show me yours,” I say. We both know that mine is bigger. I just want to see the look of defeat in his face. He chuckles. “I can admit defeat when it’s staring at me straight in the face.” “That’s a little boring,” I say as I retreat. \<<elseif (($hercules is true) and ($build is "lithe"))>> “Hercules? How original,” he says with a smirk. I scoff. “Says the low effort whatever you’re supposed to look like. Besides, why not show off the assets the gods have given me?” I flex my small bicep with the level of enthusiasm my outfit absolutely requires. And Marcus can’t hold his laughter at the show. “By the gods, you’re the smallest Hercules in existence. But you pull it off.” Sarcasm? Possibly. I won’t let it sway my confidence. \<<elseif $mouse is true>> “Fuck, you’re cute.” He looks at my ears with a wide smile on his face. The fondness in his voice sends a shiver down my spine. “Do you want cheese?” I ask, taking a piece of pecorino out of my basket to change the subject. He looks at the piece of dairy product in my hand and starts laughing. “Thank you, I was getting hungry.” He takes the cheese and stuffs it in his mouth. Immediately after, he frowns. “It wasn’t poisoned, right?” “Would you mind to die by my hand while I was dressed as a cute little mouse?” “You’re right.” He chuckles. “There are worse ways to go.” \<<elseif $wolfmonster is true>> “You look like a freak,” he says. “I like it.” "Thank you kindly." I wish I could rip his throat open. The thuoght makes me smile. Then, I blink and it's gone. \<<elseif (($arminius is true) and ($determined is true))>> The smile withers away when he looks at my helmet. “Are you serious? Do you want others to know that you hate us?” “Yes.” “I don’t know why I asked.” He chuckles. “At least it’s a good look. It fits you. Are you planning on killing my Legions?” “Yes.” “That’s a lot of work.” “I have time.” But I really don’t, not since I’m in a time crunch. It makes things more difficult. Marcus gives me an understanding smile. “Maybe settle for a few top players? Me and my father, perhaps?” “But Arminius–” “He had years to plan.” Hearing him console me on this makes the conversation a little curious, but I accept his comforting words nonetheless. But then, he continues, “You barely have any plan and you’re in constant danger.” “I have a plan,” I say with a frown. If by a plan you mean that I’m waiting for my time to strike without really knowing when or where. “Mm-hm.” He sounds unimpressed. \<<elseif (($arminius is true) and ($manipulated is true))>> The smile withers away when he looks at my helmet. “Are you serious? Do you want others to know that you hate us?” “Yes.” “I don’t know why I asked.” He chuckles. “At least it’s a good look. It fits you. Are you planning on killing my Legions?” “It sounds like a lot of work,” I say. “I’m still on the fence about it.” “If I were you,” he says, “I would just kill the top players and go home. Just quickly slaughter me and my father this evening, and leave.” “Why are you talking about this so casually? It’s a little weird.” He shrugs and gives me a grin. "Aren't you used to it already?" I suppose. <</if>> <<button[[Continue|sat_marcus_outfit]]>><</button>>

I frown at his outfit. “What are you supposed to look like?” I ask. “I’m Bacchus, naturally.” He points at the lone dry leaf on his black hair and the wine goblet on his other hand. “I would’ve never guessed.” “How could you? You’re but a mere barbarian from the lowlands. And this is high concept religious symbolism.” “Maybe I should just leave you and your high concepts here by yourself,” I say and start taking a step back. He raises his hand. “Wait, you can stay there.” “But will I?” He sighs and almost rolls his eyes. “Would you please stay?” “Are you that bored?” “Gods, yes. Niall is entertaining the plebs, Camilla is plucking her lyre looking like an absolute lunatic, Tinsae is mingling with the money people, and I’m here…” He gives me a reluctant look accompanied with the smallest of pouts. ”Alone.” He did look extremely lonely and bored. “Poor you. Don’t tell me you were waiting for me?” “I wasn’t.” I raise my brow. He sighs. “Maybe I was. Maybe you’re more entertaining than everyone in this room combined. Is admitting that a crime?” <<button[["I just might grace you with my presence. But are you worthy?"|sat_worthymarcus?]]>><</button>> <<button[["I'm not sure..."|sat_worthymarcus?]]>><</button>>

He smirks. “Should I kiss your feet to prove my worth to you? To make you stay?" <<button[["Oh, gods no. Even you don't deserve that."|sat_marcusnodeservetoes]]>><</button>> <<button[["That would be a proper start, yes."|sat_properstartmarcus]]>><</button>> <<button[["No."|sat_nomarcustoes]]>><</button>> <<button[[Remain silent. Wait for him to act.|sat_silentmarcustoes]]>><</button>>

He starts laughing. The laughter rings more carefree than usual. Saturnalia must be doing its magic on him. “Are they filled with fungi or what’s wrong with them? Now you got me curious.” “Let’s just say that months of not properly bathing has–” “Gods, no, I don’t need to hear it. Yes, keep your toes to yourself, you dirty wildling.” “Should I remind you why I couldn’t bathe for months?” “Do you want a drink?” he asks to change the subject. “Subtle,” I say. With a wide grin, he offers me a goblet of wine. <<button[[Continue|sat_marcus_takedrink]]>><</button>>

He raises his brow, accepting the challenge. He’s the kind of man who will not back down once his fortitude is in question. He will kiss my toes if I ask him to. <<button[["I was just kidding."|sat_marcusfeetkidding]]>><</button>> <<button[[I nod. "Do it."|sat_doitmarcus]]>><</button>>

“Not even just a little peck?” he offers with a mocking grin on his face. The one that looks like it ought to be punched out of him. “Is that a kink of yours? Stay away from my toes.” He laughs. “Fine, fine.” I give him a suspicious look. I really didn’t need to start picturing him licking people’s toes. Or mine, for that matter. Disgusting. “Don’t look so sour,” he says. “My night is already ruined and I just came,” I lament. “Always so dramatic. Take a drink.” <<button[[Continue|sat_marcus_takedrink]]>><</button>>

\<<if $teetotaller is true>> “I don’t drink,” I say. “Of course you don’t,” he says with a mocking grin. “You’re in for a dry evening, then.” “Don’t you have something else to drink than wine?” Marcus shrugs. “Do you want juice? That’s what the children drink.” “I’m not a child, I just don’t–” “I can fetch you some juice, little fellow.” He pats me on my head before I can stop him. With a chuckle, he’s off to fetch me a drink. Quickly enough, he comes back with a goblet of grape juice in his hand. “There you go, little one.” “Gods, you’re an idiot.” “Is that a ‘thank you’? Didn’t sound like it.” I focus on my drink, just so I won’t accidentally punch him in the throat. Wouldn't want to start a tavern fight. At least not yet. \<<elseif $lightweight_drinker is true>> “Oh, no, I can’t drink,” I say before I can think better. I blew it. I shouldn’t give him any ammunition against me. “Oh?” He gives me a lopsided grin. He can smell my weakness. “Just a little sip?” He offers me the goblet. I frown at the drink. Well, maybe it would make his presence more tolerable. Just a little sip. \<<elseif $drinking_problem is true>> “Gods, yes.” I grab the goblet. I was beginning to heavily judge my decision to not take a drink at the barracks. A proper party requires a healthy dose of alcoholic beverage. “You’re welcome,” he says with a little chuckle. <</if>> <<button[["What do you want to do?" I ask.|sat_marcusdo?]]>><</button>>

He shrugs. “Drink?” “Just drink?” “What else is there to do?” “Dancing, singing, eating, gambling…” He frowns at his goblet. “And you want to do those things?” <<button[["I'd like to dance, yes."|sat_marcusdanceyes]]>><</button>> <<button[["I wouldn't mind singing."|sat_marcussing]]>><</button>> <<button[["I need to eat."|sat_marcuseat]]>><</button>> <<button[["Gambling doesn't sound so bad."|sat_marcusgambling]]>><</button>>

The frown turns deeper, as if he’s in physical pain by the mere thought. “Oh, gods, no. I don’t dance.” “I remember.” His dance around the bonfire was quite a sad performance. <<button[[It's bold of me to say with my own dancing abilities.|sat_danceabilitiesmarcus][$bad_dancer to true]]>><</button>> <<button[[I'm used to shaking my hips, he just needs some practice.|sat_danceabilitiesmarcus]]>><</button>>

“With what money?” “Your money?” He laughs. “Why of course! I don’t mind gambling,” he says. “But I’m quite comfortable with my seat right now.” He does look like he’s taken roots to his seat. <<button[[Continue|sat_marcusboring]]>><</button>>

“Of course you do, you’re a little piggie,” he says. “Hey!” “You can feast on your cousin over there.” He gestures at the slowly roasting pig. “Just make sure to bring me some.” “Why would I bring you anything when you just called me a little piggie?” “Because you’re secretly in love with me and want to keep me fed?” he offers. “HA!” He smiles innocently. “Go on, little piggie.” “By the Twins, you’re an idiot.” “Yet, you’re still here.” "Not for long, gods.” He chuckles. “Besides," he continues, "I can't get up. I'm too comfortable.” He does look like he’s taken roots to his seat. <<button[[Continue|sat_marcusboring]]>><</button>>

“Singing?” He frowns at the thought just as a group of drunk soldiers next to us start singing off-key. He shields the ear in a quiet protest. “Can you even sing?” <<button[["You don't need to know how to sing in order to sing."|sat_marcusnosing]]>><</button>> <<button[["Yes, of course."|sat_marcus_ofc_sing]]>><</button>>

\<<if $bad_dancer is true>> He squints his eyes, clearly not pleased that I’m mocking him. “I remember you flopping around like a fish,” he says. “At least you were flopping with me with equal skills.” \<<else>> He squints his eyes, clearly not pleased that I’m mocking his dancing abilities. But since he can’t mock me about mine, he just scoffs. <</if>>\ "That’s it, find yourself another dancing partner," he says with a half-serious pout. “Oh, no…” With an annoyed grunt, he takes another gulp of his wine. "I told you that I don't want to do anything. I’m quite comfortable with my seat right now.” He does look like he’s taken roots to his seat. <<button[[Continue|sat_marcusboring]]>><</button>>

“Go sing with Camilla,” he says. “I mean, Emperor Nero or whatever the fuck she’s pretending to be.” I look at the Emperor Nero playing her lyre in the corner. “Is she alright?” I ask. “Is she ever?” Fair point. “Besides," he continues, "I’m quite comfortable with my seat right now.” He does look like he’s taken roots to his seat. <<button[[Continue|sat_marcusboring]]>><</button>>

\<<set $bad_singer to true>> “Spoken like someone who’ll sound like a torture victim when attempting to serenade.” I shrug. He can try to wound me all he wants, I don’t care. I need to listen to my heart. And my heart tells me to sing. Later. “Besides," he continues, "I’m quite comfortable with my seat right now.” He does look like he’s taken roots to his seat. <<button[[Continue|sat_marcusboring]]>><</button>>

\<<if $party_animal is true>> “That sounds extremely boring,” I complain, looking at the other people having fun. “I could sit and drink any other day.” “I’m an old man, Hati. I can’t stand up once my ass has taken roots.” \<<elseif $party_pooper is true>> Perhaps there’s a part of me that’s relieved by hearing that. It’s not that I necessarily want to party either. Marcus nods, clearly approving of my own boringness. “Sit and be boring with me, Hati.” \<<else>> “Fine,” I say. “Let’s just drink. For now, at least.” <</if>> \<<if $lovetriangleroute is true>> But, I realize that there’s something else I could be doing. “Maybe I want to see Niall, instead,” I say. “Oh?” he says, clearly trying to appear unbothered by my words. “He’s here somewhere. Probably surrounded by a rabble of admirers.” “Are you jealous?” He doesn’t sound like it, but it’s always fun to tease him. “Of plebeians circling me like a flock of seagulls? Why, of course.” His words are coated with sarcasm. “I better not get too close to him, I might get punched in the face again.” “Didn’t you say that you were fine with what he did?” “I must’ve had a mild concussion,” he says. “Of course it’s not fine. He could’ve killed me." <<button[[Continue|sat_marcusniall?]]>><</button>> \<<else>> <<button[[Continue|sat_marcusensues]]>><</button>> <</if>>\

I take a sip of the drink and take in the atmosphere. \<<if $party_pooper is true>> I look at the people dancing and laughing around us while sipping my goblet. Then I glance at Marcus. He stares at the people, clearly content with himself and his choice of not participating with the festivities. At least I’m with someone who understands the intricacies of not enjoying a party. <<button[[Continue|sat_marcuspooper]]>><</button>> \<<elseif $party_animal is true>> The rhythm of the music makes me sway my hips in anticipation. I want to dance, I want to feast. But Marcus just sits there with a frown on his face. <<button[[Continue|sat_marcuspartyanimal]]>><</button>> \<<else>> <<button[[Continue|sat_marcuspartymeh]]>><</button>> <</if>>\

\<<if $fight_bystander is true>> Then, he gives me a quick look. “Why am I complaining about it to you, of all people?” “I know. You’re not the brightest.” He chuckles, but there’s a layer of something else beneath all his sarcasm and the facade of confidence. He sounds almost sad. “Poor you,” I say. “I know.” \<<else>> “It must be rough,” I say. He lets out a grunt of agreement as he takes another gulp of his wine. <</if>> It’s difficult to say if he minded if I would go and spend some time with Niall. \<<if (($marcus_killer is true) or ($determined is true))>> Not that I cared either way. \<<else>> He does look so pitiful this evening, especially with his broken nose, that I’d almost feel bad leaving him alone. <</if>>\ "I'll try to find him," I say. "Do whatever you please," he says curtly. <<button[[Continue|sat_niall?]]>><</button>>

He raises his brow at my silence. But there’s something that’s clear in his gaze: he won’t do it unless I ask him to. Do I want him to grovel at my feet? <<button[[Shake my head.|sat_marcusfeetkidding]]>><</button>> <<button[[I nod.|sat_doitmarcus]]>><</button>>

His shoulders relax. He was preparing for a battle in his mind. “I wasn’t exactly looking forward to it,” he admits. “You didn’t bathe for months and I fear what–” “Should I remind you why I couldn’t bathe for months?” “Do you want a drink?” he asks to change the subject. “Subtle,” I say. With a wide grin, he offers me a goblet of wine. <<button[[Continue|sat_marcus_takedrink]]>><</button>>

\<<set $marcus_thetoekisser to true>> He gives me a small nod back. The deal is sealed. He gets up, steeling his jaw, tightening his shoulders. Meanwhile I sit down to get more comfortable, offering my leg. <<button[[This is embarrassing, but it's too late to back down now.|sat_embarrassingmarcus]]>><</button>> <<button[["Give them a good lick, too," I order him.|sat_ordermarcus]]>><</button>> <<button[[Let's see what he will do.|sat_letsseemarcus]]>><</button>>

Heat threatens to rise up to my cheeks but I try to not let it bother me. I would never hear the end of it if he saw me blushing. He’s now kneeling in front of me and my mind is screaming. He takes my shoe off with determination. He’s gentle enough, but as my mind is still shrieking in confusion and embarrassment, I’m not completely immersed in the tiniest details of what is happening. And, there’s a part of me who really wants to kick him in the face while he’s down there. Apart from that, what I know is that my toes are now free to breathe the tavern air. Then, there’s his hot breath against my naked skin. He tries to look me in the eyes, I don’t know why, but I can look at him. He’d see the heat in my cheeks. With a little chuckle, he closes in on my foot, and I hold my breath. His lips touch my toe gently, with purpose. He’s kissing my feet. <<button[["Alright, that's enough."|sat_marcusenough]]>><</button>> <<button[[Kick him in the face.|sat_marcuskick]]>><</button>>

His shoulders shake a little when he hears my command, he must be laughing to himself. It makes me squint my eyes in annoyance. “Are you laughing at me? You, who are about to kiss my feet like I was your master?” He steels his face and looks me in the eyes. There’s not a trace of amusement in his gaze when he says, “My apologies, Master.” The fake obedience makes me smile. With his gaze still locked with mine, he takes my bare foot near his lips. His breath is hot against my naked skin, and there’s a hint of hesitation in his gaze. He waits for me to act. To tell him to retreat, to abandon the gods’ forsaken mission that he’s on. But I won’t. So, he closes in on my foot, and I hold my breath. His lips touch my toe gently, with purpose. He’s a man who will fully commit to his task, no matter what it is. I can respect that about him. Then, his tongue peeks from between his lips. He’s going to lick it because I asked him to. <<button[["Good boy," I say.|sat_marcusgoodboy]]>><</button>> <<button[["Alright, that's enough."|sat_marcusenough]]>><</button>> <<button[[Kick him in the face.|sat_marcuskick]]>><</button>>

I don’t doubt that he will give my toes a kiss. I can see it in his eyes, the determination, the unwillingness to back down from a challenge. Even if the challenge was my toes. No, what I’m interested in seeing is how he will go about it. With his gaze still locked with mine, he takes my bare foot near his lips. His breath is hot against my naked skin, and there’s a hint of hesitation in his gaze. He waits for me to act. To tell him to retreat, to abandon the gods’ forsaken mission that he’s on. But I won’t. So, he closes in on my foot, and I hold my breath. His lips touch my toe gently, with purpose. He’s a man who will fully commit to his task, no matter what it is. I can respect that about him. <<button[["Alright, that's enough."|sat_marcusenough]]>><</button>> <<button[[Kick him in the face.|sat_marcuskick]]>><</button>>

My voice rings hoarser than I was mentally prepared for. It makes me clear my throat in haste, hoping he didn’t hear it. But of course he did. He’s still looking at me, completely focused on my every movement, completely tuned in reading my responses. He heard me. And what he heard made him quickly let go of my foot. He clears his throat, too. “So, you will stay now,” he says. His voice, too, sounds a little more deeper than I’m used to. “Do you want a drink?” he asks, quickly returning to his seat. Right. Let’s just forget about that. <<button[[Continue|sat_marcus_takedrink]]>><</button>>

Aggression takes over me and I kick him in his insufferable face. But I can’t. He’s holding onto my leg too tightly. “I knew you’d try that, you lunatic,” he says with an amused chuckle. \<<if $fight is true>> “What do you think would’ve happened to my nose?” His nose is still quite broken after Niall. “Nothing good,” I fully admit. “I just have this urge to kick you in the face when offered the opportunity.” “Of course, I can’t blame you,” he says with a chuckle. And it almost sounds like he doesn’t blame me. I can try to kick him in the face all I want. How nice of him. \<<else>> “You could’ve broken my nose.” “Will have to try again later,” I say with a small smile, by now picturing his mangled nose that I could've caused. He lets out a laugh. He doesn’t seem too bothered by my violent outbursts. He’s used to it. It’s weirdly nice to take my aggressions on him. <</if>>\ Cautiously, when he’s deemed me harmless for the moment, he lets go of me. “Now, do you want some wine?” <<button[[Continue|sat_marcus_takedrink]]>><</button>>

My voice rings hoarser to my ears than I thought it would. Meanwhile Marcus, still keeping an eye contact with me, holds still like a statue of Mars. The tips of his ears turn red. “You’re blushing,” I say. He quickly stands up, leaving my naked foot hanging. “Do you want more wine?” he asks, as if he could get away with this with wine. “You were blushing!” He tightens his lips into a thin line before taking a big gulp of his wine. “You were–” I start, but he interrupts me. “You are insufferable, did you know that?” “You’re one to talk. Besides, I won this round.” “Please, Hati. Nobody likes a bad winner.” I chuckle, kicking my feet. This didn’t turn out to be such a bad party, after all. He offers me a goblet of wine. <<button[[Continue|sat_marcus_takedrink]]>><</button>>

She stops playing to stare at me. Her smiling mask looks a little deranged on her face. “Sit down,” she commands in clear irritation. “A sore subject?” She snorts out a bitter laugh. “That’s why you asked.” “Perhaps.” <<button[[Continue|sat_camillasilentsit]]>><</button>>

She tilts her head. Beneath her mask I heard a muffled scoff. “Sit down, druid.” “You’re not going to apologize?” “I already did, you little shit. You want me to grovel at your feet?” \<<if (($loud_pervert is true) or ($shy_pervert is true))>> The thought makes me grin. She barks out a laugh. “Sit down, you fool.” \<<else>> “No,” I say. She did apologize. Multiple times. I don’t have to forgive her, but I did choose to come here. So, might as well sit. <</if>> <<button[[Continue|sat_camillasilentsit]]>><</button>>

Without another word, I sit down. She seems content with her lyre, I don’t want to disturb her. Silence weighs heavy between us as I look at her playing, listen to the soothing song. “I wonder if he actually laughed?” she muses to her lyre as she plucks her tunes. \<<if (($loud_pervert is true) or ($shy_pervert is true))>> <<button[[Continue|sat_pervhatiwithcamilla]]>><</button>> \<<elseif (($loud_pervert isnot true) or ($shy_pervert isnot true) and ($dummy is true))>> <<button[[Continue|sat_dummywithcamilla]]>><</button>> \<<else>> <<button[[Continue|sat_smartiepantscamilla]]>><</button>> <</if>>\

Silence weighs heavy between us as I look at her playing, listen to the soothing song. “I wonder if he actually laughed?” she muses to her lyre as she plucks her tunes. \<<if (($loud_pervert is true) or ($shy_pervert is true))>> <<button[[Continue|sat_pervhatiwithcamilla]]>><</button>> \<<elseif (($loud_pervert isnot true) or ($shy_pervert isnot true) and ($dummy is true))>> <<button[[Continue|sat_dummywithcamilla]]>><</button>> \<<else>> <<button[[Continue|sat_smartiepantscamilla]]>><</button>> <</if>>\

Ignoring her question, I focus on her long fingers. It’s not often I’d call her graceful, her demeanor is blunt and harsh, but there’s something about her fingers moving on the strings that’s graceful. She’s the master of the instrument, she commands it with elegance. Her touch moves with purpose on the strings. She’s really good with her fingers. \<<if (($camilla_sex is true) and ($loud_pervert is true))>> I knew that already, of course. The thought conjures up a grin on my face. She turns her gaze to me. I can imagine her squinting her eyes. “I’m trying to have an intelligent conversation with you.” “I don’t do those,” I say. “Gods, I know.” Despite her grimness, a smile rings through her words. \<<elseif (($camilla_sex isnot true) and ($loud_pervert is true))>> I wonder how far her expertise with her fingers reaches? The thought makes me smirk. She turns her gaze to me. I can imagine her squinting her eyes. “I’m trying to have an intelligent conversation with you.” “I don’t do those,” I say. “Gods, I know.” Despite her grimness, a smile rings through her words. \<<elseif (($camilla_sex is true) and ($shy_pervert is true))>> I knew that already, of course. The thought makes me look away with a sly smile on my face. I can imagine her squinting her eyes at me. “What are you blushing for?” “Nothing.” “I’m trying to have an intelligent conversation.” “By all means,” I say, clearing my throat. \<<elseif (($camilla_sex isnot true) and ($shy_pervert is true))>> I wonder how far her expertise with her fingers reaches? The thought makes me look away with a sly smile on my face. I can imagine her squinting her eyes at me. “What are you blushing for?” “Nothing.” “I’m trying to have an intelligent conversation.” “By all means,” I say, clearing my throat. <</if>>\ “Anyway, what were you talking about?” I ask. “Something about laughing.” A scoff. “I’m talking about Nero.” \<<if $dummy is true>> <<button[[Continue|sat_dummywithcamilla]]>><</button>> \<<else>> <<button[[Continue|sat_smartiepantscamilla]]>><</button>> <</if>>\

“Huh? Who?” She scoffs lightly at my question. But it seems that she expected my ignorance. “Nero,” she says. “I don’t think he started the fire that burned down the whole of Rome.” “When did that happen?” “Over a hundred years ago.” She’s starting to sound a little annoyed. But when isn’t she annoyed? “Alright?” I don’t know why we’re talking about this man. “You’re such a good conversationalist,” she says with a scoff, but continues her thought. “He didn’t start the fire, but what if he was happy about it? If it was just a show for him. What if the screams of the burning people acted as a background music for his songs that he liked to pluck on his terrace?” \<<if $water is true>> I frown at the thought. The mental image is too clear, too raw. What even brought this on? <</if>>\ “You’re more grim today than usual,” I say. “I didn’t think our conversation would start off with burning people.” She lets out an exhausted exhale. “Being locked inside your room like a misbehaving child does that to you.” Grim she may be, but she’s also more talkative than usual. “He had a taste for people in flames,” she continues, plucking her lyre in thought. “He liked to make human torches out of Christians. They illuminated the Imperial garden with their burning flesh.” Her tone is completely emotionless as she retells the events as if she herself was there. “Wait a moment, were you there? How long ago was this?” “Yes, my fool, I’m a hundred years old. Don’t I look good for my age?” “Alright, you weren’t.” Her words don’t wound me as much as they could’ve in the past. Now, I just see something wrong with her posture. She’s tense. “But you sound like you were,” I continue. That gives her a pause. She shifts position on the sofa. “I wasn’t,” she says. <<button[[''Can we talk about something else than burning people?''|sat_burningpeoplenope]]>><</button>> <<button[[''Are you alright?''|sat_camilla_alrigth?]]>><</button>> <<button[[''I wonder how long those torches lit up the place?''|sat_camillatorches?]]>><</button>> <<button[[''Didn't the Senators have anything to say about the screaming people in the backyard?''|sat_senatorscamilla?]]>><</button>> <<button[[Remain silent.|sat_camillasilent2]]>><</button>>

“Nero? I heard that him burning down Rome was just a rumor. Sure, he did benefit from it, since he got space for his Domus Aurea.” She hums in pleasure at my knowledge. “You know about his abomination of a building? Impressive for a barbarian.” Backhanded compliments, her favorite. She continues, “He didn’t start the fire, I’m sure. But what if he was still happy about it? What if the screams of burning people acted as a background music for his songs?” \<<if $water is true>> I frown at the thought. The mental image is too clear, too raw. What even brought this on? <</if>>\ “You’re more grim today than usual,” I say. “I didn’t think our conversation would start off with burning people.” She lets out an exhausted exhale. “Being locked inside your room like a misbehaving child does that to you.” Is it the treatment of a child that bothers her, or the fact that someone can take her freedom away with such ease? Perhaps both. Grim she may be, but she’s also more talkative than usual. “He had a taste for people in flames,” she continues, plucking her lyre in thought. “He liked to make human torches out of Christians. They illuminated the Imperial garden with their burning flesh.” Her tone is completely emotionless as she retells the events as if she herself was there. <<button[[''Can we talk about something else than burning people?''|sat_burningpeoplenope]]>><</button>> <<button[[''Are you alright?''|sat_camilla_alrigth?]]>><</button>> <<button[[''I wonder how long those torches lit up the place?''|sat_camillatorches?]]>><</button>> <<button[[''Didn't the Senators have anything to say about the screaming people in the backyard?''|sat_senatorscamilla?]]>><</button>> <<button[[Remain silent.|sat_camillasilent2]]>><</button>>

The screams of the people burning alive is not something I’d rather not think about right now. “It dampens my party mood a little.” “Oh, we wouldn’t want that,” she says. Her words are accompanied with an amused scoff. But, to her credit, she does change the subject. <<button[[Continue|sat_camillalooksproperly]]>><</button>>

It’s not just about the topic at hand, it’s also because she seems extremely tense. Maybe the house arrest is the reason, or whatever else happened in her room this morning. However, the way her hand fidgets her flask of wine as she talks about the burning victims makes me wonder. “You keep asking that,” she says. “Why?” “You seemed highly distressed the last time we met.” An understatement. “And now you’re talking about lunatic Emperors.” She snorts out a laugh. “Right.” But she doesn’t answer the question. She’s drunker than usual, yet still her lips are tightly sealed once again. “Is it about your family? Who’s locked in the Emperor’s palace without you?” She stares at me, unmoving, unflinching. How I wish I could see her face now. Finally, she says. “Yes.” “Do you plan on–” “No. There’s nothing I can do,” she says in a stern tone. It’s time for another topic. <<button[[Continue|sat_camillalooksproperly]]>><</button>>

How long does a human burn? I suppose it depends on the amount of fat the victim has. Camilla gives me a long look. Then, in an emotionless tone, she says, “I’d cover them in animal fat to make them burn longer.” “That’s a good idea!” “Is it?” She snorts out a laugh. “Well, if you were already going to do it, might as well be efficient about it.” She chuckles. “That’s true.” <<button[[Continue|sat_camillalooksproperly]]>><</button>>

“They gossipped, denounced the unnecessary cruelty. But didn’t dare to say it to his face.” “Romans thought it cruel? The very same Romans who crucified six thousand slaves after Spartacus's revolt?” Camilla lets out a little chuckle, fully acknowledging the hypocrisy. “That crime shook the very foundations of Rome. That is unforgivable.” “Foundation of Rome. Slaves?” “Social hierarchy.” She falls silent once again, taking a sip of her honeyed wine. <<button[[Continue|sat_camillalooksproperly]]>><</button>>

Something about this conversation topic is important to her. Perhaps it has something to do with the fact that her family is in the Palace with the Emperor who’s said to be mad? She’s worried, most likely. There’s really nothing I can do about that, so I choose silence. <<button[[Continue|sat_camillalooksproperly]]>><</button>>

\<<if $cleopatra is true>> “Oh,” she says. A smile lingers on her lips. “You look beautiful.” The compliment is sudden, blunt, and almost unfit to her mouth. Yet, the small smile on her face tells me that she’s speaking truthfully. <<button[[Do a little twirl for her.|sat_twirlcamilla]]>><</button>> <<button[[The compliment takes me by surprise and I look away.|sat_bashfulcamilla]]>><</button>> <<button[[Show off my muscles.|sat_musclescleopatracamilla]]>><</button>> <<button[["Thank you. You look handsome."|sat_handsomecamilla]]>><</button>> \<<elseif $hercules is true>> <<button[[Continue|sat_camillahercules]]>><</button>> \<<elseif $mouse is true>> “What are you wearing?” “I’m a mouse.” I show off my tail and the fluffy ears. “I can see that.” Her tone is both dry and slightly intrigued. “Why did you ask, then?” She gives me a long look. Then, she lets out a snort. “Cute. Didn’t expect that from you.” “I even brought you some cheese,” I say and offer her a piece of pecorino. She wheezes. “Thank you.” She takes a bite of the cheese and hums in pleasure. <<button[["Why Nero?" I ask as I look at her outfit.|sat_whynero?]]>><</button>> \<<elseif $wolfmonster is true>> “You look deranged,” she says with a small smile. “I like it.” “Thank you kindly.” I look at her white neck. I wonder how the taste of makeup would mix in with the blood if I tore her throat open? Intrigue lits up her gaze. “You look hungry,” she says. I smile. Then, I blink and the thoughts go away. <<button[["Why Nero?" I ask as I look at her outfit.|sat_whynero?]]>><</button>> \<<elseif $arminius is true>> She snorts out a laugh. “Arminius? How fitting.” “I’m here to remind you all what happens when you trust a barbarian.” “Make them all remember,” she muses under her breath. “How many Legions are you going to take with you?” she asks. <<button[[Continue|howmanylegions?]]>><</button>> <</if>>

Since I’m finally able to twirl in a dress, I give her exactly that. She looks at me with a content smile on her face, fully taking in my show. “Beautiful,” she repeats as her gaze shamelessly lingers on my form. “You need to wear dresses more often.” There’s an aura of command in her tone. “You know I can’t do that.” “Not in public, no,” she says with a wicked smile. “But I know a place…” “Oh? Why does that sound a little ominous?” She cackles. <<button[["Why Nero?" I ask as I look at her outfit.|sat_whynero?]]>><</button>>

I clear my throat and attempt to fix my dress. There’s nothing to fix, but it reveals more of my skin than I’m used to. And her gaze is as penetrative as ever, she’s undressing me with her hungry gaze. The smile on her face grows a little wider as she looks at my show of coyness. The smile reveals more of her teeth. “You are too sweet.” Heat burns in her gaze. It makes me clear my throat. With a chuckle, she releases me from the clutches of her gaze. <<button[["Why Nero?" I ask to change the subject.|sat_whynero?]]>><</button>>

The smile on her lips grows a little wider, revealing some of her teeth. “Thank you, dearest plebeian.” I can’t deny that her haughty demeanor is fitting for an Emperor. It’s as if she was born to play one. <<button[["Why Nero?" I ask.|sat_whynero?]]>><</button>>

\<<if $determined is true>> “I should try to one up Arminius’s achievement.” “Three? Let me know if I can help,” she says with an amused smirk. “You’re going to butcher whole Legions now, too?” I grin at the thought. Of course she would. “We need an army,” she muses in thought, as if seriously considering her options. \<<else>> “I don’t have an army,” I remind her. “You’re talking like someone who’s already lost.” “If massacre means I’m winning, maybe I’d prefer to lose.” “How boring,” she says with a scoff. Still, there’s a small smile on her lips. “I could kill two Legions for you.” “For me? How romantic.” The smile grows a little wider. <</if>> <<button[["Why Nero?" I ask to change the subject.|sat_whynero?]]>><</button>>

“He’s interesting,” she says. There’s more to it than that, but she’s not keen on letting me in on her motivations. “Is that a wig or hair dye?” I ask, looking at the red hair. “Dye. I gave it a good curl, too. I wanted to channel my inner mad Emperor.” “It suits you.” “Madness?” <<button[["The hair."|sat_camillahair]]>><</button>> <<button[["Yes."|sat_camillamadness]]>><</button>>

Camilla gives me a cold smile. “You shouldn’t dress like a slut if you don’t want to be treated like one.” “That’s rude.” I might lack clothing, but I still don’t want to be treated like an object. She shrugs and shifts her focus on her flask. “You’re thin-skinned for a revenge-hungry barbarian.” “And you’re an asshole.” <<button[["Why Nero?" I ask as I look at her outfit.|sat_whynero?]]>><</button>>

\<<if $build is "lithe">> I flex my bicep with the confidence of a true Hercules, and give her a little smirk. She bursts out laughing. “By the gods, you pull it off.” She wheezes. “Thank you for that.” The outburst makes me smile to myself. It’s not often I hear her laugh like that. Even if it was at my expense. <<button[["Why Nero?" I ask as I look at her outfit.|sat_whynero?]]>><</button>> <</if>> With a confident little smirk on my face, I flex my muscles. It’s been a while since I’ve been able to show off my thighs. I don’t often feel like going about pantless during winter, but this is a special occasion. I’m just a little chilly. Camilla gives me an appreciative chuckle. “Quite good. You should dress like a slut more often.” \<<if (($loud_pervert is true) or ($shy_pervert is true))>> “Maybe I should,” I give her a cheeky grin. \<<else>> “You think I look like a slut?” I say, shielding myself from her hungry gaze. Sure, I’m showing more skin than clothing, but– She snorts. “A cute slut.” My frown deepens. <</if>> <<button[["Why Nero?" I ask as I look at her outfit.|sat_whynero?]]>><</button>>

I do a little twirl, hoping that the loincloth doesn’t show off my butt cheeks. At least too much. Camilla looks at me with a content smile on her face, fully taking in my show. “Beautiful,” she repeats as her gaze shamelessly lingers on my form. “You need to dress like a slut more often.” There’s an aura of command in her tone. \<<if (($loud_pervert is true) or ($shy_pervert is true))>> “Maybe I should,” I give her a cheeky grin. \<<else>> “You think I look like a slut?” I say, shielding myself from her hungry gaze. Sure, I’m showing more skin than clothing, but– She snorts. “A cute slut.” My frown deepens. <</if>> <<button[["Why Nero?" I ask as I look at her outfit.|sat_whynero?]]>><</button>>

\<<if (($build is "average") or ($build is "muscular"))>> She tilts her head in appreciation. “My, how refreshing. I expected a twirl and a giggle.” “Might as well show off the other assets gods have given me.” She nods in agreement. Her gaze shamelessly lingers on my arms, lowering down on my form. “You need to wear dresses more often.” There’s an aura of command in her tone. “You know I can’t do that.” “Not in public, no,” she says with a wicked smile. “But I know a place…” “Oh? Why does that sound a little ominous?” She chuckles. \<<elseif $build is "lithe">> Sure, there might not be that much to flex, but my confidence makes up for it. Camilla snorts out a laugh. “You cannot hurt me with your words,” I say. Quinn already tried. “I didn’t say anything,” she says. <</if>> <<button[["Why Nero?" I ask as I look at her outfit.|sat_whynero?]]>><</button>>

An air of amusement leaves her nostrils. “Thank you.” “I don’t think you’re that mad,” I say. “Maybe I am,” she says as she looks at the lyre deep in thought. “Let’s be mad together, then.” I doubt the amnesia and the occasional voices in my head are completely normal, either. She lets out a bright laugh. It sounds lighter than her usual bouts of amusement. “Let’s.” “Do you plan on doing something other than to mope here and play your lyre?” I ask. “No,” she says. She gets back to playing, humming a song that’s not familiar to me. Her voice is pleasant to the ears. It’s deep, like undiluted wine. “Do you yearn for the dance floor?” she asks in between her humming. She looks at the people swaying with the rhythm of the drums with disdain. <<button[["Can I sing with you?" I ask.|sat_singwithcamilla?]]>><</button>> <<button[["Yes. But I can dance to your music."|sat_camilladance]]>><</button>>

The smile doesn’t die from her lips as she looks at me. Her gaze penetrates me. Finally, she says, “You, too.” “I’m not mad,” I say. Would I play songs when people die from fire? Of course not. Do I see things others don’t? Yes. But that’s different. “Whatever you say,” she says with a knowing smirk. Something about that dismissal sends a jolt of shiver down my spine. It’s better to talk about something else. Just as I'm about to come up with another topic, she offers me a goblet. \<<if $teetotaller is true>> She offers me a goblet of something. “I don’t–” “Just take it,” she says and shoves the cup in my hand, almost spilling the liquid on me. Just as I’m about to complain, I realize that the drink isn’t wine. It’s grape juice. “Oh. Thank you,” I say. How weirdly thoughtful of her. \<<elseif $lightweight_drinker is true>> “Oh, I don’t think I–” “Just the one,” she says with a small smirk. “Did you poison it?” I ask as I take the goblet. Her smirk is suspicious. “I would never kill you with poison.” I frown at her words. But still, I take a sip of the wine. Perhaps I need some liquid courage to continue to exist in this place. \<<elseif $drinking_problem is true>> I sigh in relief. “Yes, thank you.” I take a healthy gulp of the honeyed wine. It spreads its blessing over my tastebuds, and continues its path into my stomach. I already feel better. <</if>>\ “Do you plan on doing something other than to mope here and play your lyre?” I ask. “No,” she says. She gets back to playing, humming a song that’s not familiar to me. Her voice is pleasant to the ears. It’s deep, like undiluted wine. “Do you yearn for the dance floor?” she asks in between her humming. She looks at the people swaying with the rhythm of the drums with disdain. <<button[["Can I sing with you?" I ask.|sat_singwithcamilla?]]>><</button>> <<button[["Yes. But I can dance to your music."|sat_camilladance]]>><</button>>

\<<if $gender is "cisman">> “How very Greek of you,” he says with a lopsided grin. “What?” I frown. There is a stereotype that Greek men are more feminine than Romans. Is that– He shakes his head with a smile. “Forget it. You look beautiful.” “Oh.” I clear my throat. \<<elseif (($gender is "ciswoman") and ($air is true) or ($earth is true))>> “You let your breasts hang free for tonight. Bold.” “Hang free?” I stifle the urge to roll my eyes. Did I expect a genuine compliment? From him, out of all people? His features soften just a little at the sight of my expression. “You look beautiful.” Despite his idiocy, his tone almost sounds genuine. But I won't let it sway me. Instead, I just give him a stare. He lets out a small chuckle. “I love that death stare of yours.” \<<elseif (($gender is "ciswoman") and ($water is true))>> “You let your breasts hang free for tonight. Bold.” “Hang free?” I stifle the urge to roll my eyes. Did I expect a genuine compliment? From him, out of all people? His features soften just a little at the sight of my expression. “You look beautiful.” Despite his idiocy, his tone almost sounds genuine. “Well… Thank you.” Instinctively, I fix the dress to shield the said hanging breasts from his judging gaze. “I’m sorry,” he says with a chuckle. “I’m just being an idiot.” “We can agree on that, yes.” \<<elseif (($gender is "ciswoman") and ($fire is true))>> “You let your breasts hang free for tonight. Bold.” “Hang free?” I stifle the urge to roll my eyes. Did I expect a genuine compliment? From him, out of all people? His features soften just a little at the sight of my expression. “You look beautiful.” Despite his idiocy, his tone almost sounds genuine. “Me and my hanging breasts might just go somewhere else for tonight.” “Please, stay. You and your breasts are a welcomed guest at my table.” I scoff. Why did I even come here? \<<else>> He nods at my outfit. “You look beautiful.” “Oh?” A genuine compliment or sarcasm? One can never know with him. He lets out a laugh. “Don’t look so sour, I mean it.” “Well. Thank you.” I don't believe a word that comes out of his mouth. <</if>> <<button[[Continue|sat_marcus_outfit]]>><</button>>

Something about the scene feels uncomfortable. He doesn’t smile like that with me. He’s not that comfortable with me. He doesn’t dance like that with me. I turn on my heels to leave, but I stumble on someone and fall on the wine-stained floor with him. “I’m sorry,” I mutter when I get back up. When I turn to look at Niall, he’s stopped dancing. He looks at me as if he’s seeing a ghost. As if he doesn’t want to see me. The stare stabs me in my chest. “Hati?” he asks. The woman in his arms looks at me, too. They all do. I shake my head. \<<if $fire is true>> I grind my teeth, tighten my jaw, do everything I can not to say something I regret later. I need to leave. Now. \<<elseif $earth is true>> I nod at Niall as a farewell, for I’m not sure what else to do. I should leave. \<<elseif $water is true>> With tears of shame and confusion prickling at the corners of my eyes, I start walking away without another word. \<<elseif $air is true>> “Io Saturnalia,” I say in an emotionless tone, my voice light and airy, yet resonant. I turn around. I should leave. <</if>>\ He clearly doesn’t want me here. <<button[[''Wait!''|sat_nialldidn'tleave]]>><</button>>

Immediately upon hearing my voice, he stops on his tracks. He turns to me with his eyes widened. It’s as if he’s looking at a ghost. His mouth turns into a grimace. It’s as if he didn’t want to see me. And, immediately after, he trips on his feet, grabbing one of the women with him on the wine-stained floor. The woman shrieks as she’s pulled down. They’re now both on the floor. Niall's face is bathed with his own blushing blood. The crowd gasps in unison, some erect their hands in an attempt to help Niall. But no one does. Their eyes turn to me. I’m not wanted here. I’m an outsider. <<button[[That's silly, of course I am wanted. He just tripped, like he always does.|sat_nialltrippedsilly]]>><</button>> <<button[["What are you all staring at?"|sat_niallstareat?]]>><</button>>

“Classic Niall,” I say in a forcefully light tone. I smile, but my cheeks hurt. I take a step towards Niall, who darts his gaze at me like a cornered rabbit. Then, he forces out a laugh, as forced as my smile, and gets up. “How clumsy of me,” he says as he helps the woman up. The woman looks at me. She looks at me as if there’s something wrong with me. As if I interrupted something. “Io Saturnalia,” I say with a fake smile. I’m clearly not wanted here. That’s their problem. I assumed that Niall would be happy to see me. After all we’ve been through so far, I’d say that’s not a baseless assumption. <<button[[Continua|sat_nialldidn'tleave]]>><</button>>

My voice comes out grumpy and defensive. Niall darts his gaze to me like a rabbit that’s caught in a corner, and tries to smile. But it comes out wrong. “Hati, my friend,” he says in a forcefully light tone. “It seems that I’m interrupting something.” “No, I just danced. I like to dance.” “I can see that,” I say curtly. The air around is tense and heavy, the others look at me, as if holding their breath. <<button[[Continue|sat_nialldidn'tleave]]>><</button>>

\<<if (($build is "average") or ($build is "muscular"))>> “Hm,” she says, clearly pondering on the validity of my statement. Then, she nods. “Yes, indeed.” “Did you even have to think about that?” She lets out an amused hum. <<button[[Do a little twirl.|sat_twirlcamillahercules]]>><</button>> <<button[[Show off my muscles.|sat_showoffcamilla]]>><</button>> <<button[[Clear my throat. This is a little awkward.|sat_camilla_awkwardhercules]]>><</button>> \<<elseif $build is "lithe">> “The smallest one,” she says in amusement. “You’re too late with your insults, I’ve already heard that one. I won’t let your words get to me,” I say. She gives me an almost apologetic smile. “You look good.” “Oh. Well, thank you.” <<button[[Do a little twirl.|sat_twirlcamillahercules]]>><</button>> <<button[[Show off my muscles.|sat_showoffcamilla]]>><</button>> <<button[[Clear my throat. This is a little awkward.|sat_camilla_awkwardhercules]]>><</button>> <</if>>

She gives me a small frown. “I don’t know any songs from your land,” she admits. Admitting that she doesn’t know something doesn’t come easily to her, which shouldn’t be a surprise. “I expected as much. You can teach me your favorite song.” “Hm.” She squints her eyes at me, pondering on my request. “Fine.” She positions herself better and starts singing, “Vivamus, mea Lesbia, atque amemus…” Let’s live, let’s love. She sings a song of a woman called Lesbia, how we shouldn’t care about the opinions of old men. Give me a thousand kisses, then another hundred, until we jumble the count. She sings the song in a low, almost wistful tone. When she’s done, she gives me an expectant look. “That’s a romantic song,” I note. “How astute of you,” she says. “Mock me all you like, but it sounds like you’re a romantic at heart.” My theory is met with a dismissive scoff. But a slight smile rings from her words as she says, “You wish, you little shit. Do you think you can learn the words?” I grin, ignoring the insult, and start singing, “Vivamus, mea Camilla…” She barks out a laugh. “Not quite.” “Is there a reason why the lady is called Lesbia?” I ask. She shrugs. “It’s a poem from Catullus. It’s a pseudonym for his lover. I think he admired Sappho, the famous poet.” \<<if (($ciswoman is true) or ($transwoman is true))>> <<button[[''Oh?''|sat_ohsappho?]]>><</button>> \<<else>> <<button[[Continue|sat_camillasing]]>><</button>> <</if>>\

“I didn’t think you’d say yes,” she admits. “Dancing seems… Excessive.” “Hush now, and pluck me a tune.” Instead of a tune, she shoots me with a wrathful glance. “I’m not your–” “Hurry up now,” I urge her as I start shaking my hips in anticipation. Her head tilts slightly backwards in confusion before she glances at the people around us, as if to see if someone’s watching us. Then, she seems to decide that she doesn’t care about that. After positioning herself better, she starts singing, “Vivamus, mea Lesbia, atque amemus…” Let’s live, let’s love. She sings a song of a woman called Lesbia, how we shouldn’t care about the opinions of old men. Give me a thousand kisses, then another hundred, until we jumble the count. The song has a passable rhythm to it, it doesn’t take long for me to find a way to sway my shoulders and my hips to Camilla’s singing, to the tune of her lyre. “Vivamus, mea Lesbia, atque amemus…” I start singing along. A smile rings through Camilla’s singing when I join the song. I turn to look at her when I feel her gaze on me. She doesn’t even pretend to look away from my dance, she devours every movement of my hips, of my arms. The dark makeup she wears only enhances the fierceness of her gaze. She’s stopped singing. <<button[[Dance suggestively.|sat_suggestivedancecamilla]]>><</button>> <<button[[I start to feel self-conscious.|sat_meekdancecamilla]]>><</button>> <<button[[Just dance.|sat_justdance]]>><</button>>

She talks about the famous poet who loved women. “What do you think of Sappho?” I ask. “I…” She gives me an inspecting look. “I think you’re trying to get a specific answer out of me.” “I would never.” “I think that she was a formidable poet, worthy of Catullus’s admiration.” There's a long silence as she ponders on her next words. “And I… Can’t deny that the love of women she had was…” She gives my form a quick look, almost shy. “Intriguing.” <<button[[''Are you blushing?''|sat_camillablush?]]>><</button>> <<button[[Clear my throat and fix my outfit.|sat_fixoutiftcamilla]]>><</button>>

“Vivamus, mea Lesbia, atque amemus…,” I start to sing again. She gives me a pleased half grin and joins the song. We sit side by side, sharing the warmth of our bodies, singing together as if we were two friends. Her fingers dance on her lyre as easily as breathing. She lives the song, meaning every word with all of her heart. Disgust seeps from her words as she sings about the old men who hold the traditions dear to their hearts, a silent, glimmering hope takes place when she wishes she could ignore them and all the rest. Something about her like this makes my stomach feel a little lighter. “You stopped,” she says accusingly. I did, and I didn’t even realize it. <<button[["You don't like your life, do you?"|sat_camilladontlikelife]]>><</button>> <<button[[Remain silent.|sat_camillasilent3]]>><</button>>

It’s difficult to tell from underneath her mask. A fierce frown rings through her dismissive words, “Shut up.” “‘Shut up’? Not ‘of course I’m not, you little shit’?” “Of course I’m not, you little shit,” she mimics my words. “Of course, you would never.” She all but growls, the mask amplifying the sound. “Now, are you going to sing with me, or not?” she asks forcefully. <<button[[Continue|sat_camillasing]]>><</button>>

\<<if $cleopatra is true>> I wipe imaginative dust off the hem of my dress and clear my throat. Camilla lets out an amused scoff at the sight. “I can spill my wine on your dress if you want to wipe something off.” Does she just want to see me in a soaked wet dress? I wouldn’t put it past her. She smirks. “Now, are you going to sing with me, or not?” \<<elseif $hercules is true>> I wipe imaginative dust off the hem of my loincloth and clear my throat. Camilla lets out an amused scoff at the sight. “I can spill my wine on your loincloth if you want to wipe something off.” “No, it’s fine, thank you.” She smirks. “Now, are you going to sing with me, or not?” \<<elseif $mouse is true>> I start playing with my tail, not sure what to do with my hands. Camilla lets out a small chuckle at the sight. “You look ridiculously adorable in that.” “Thank–” “Makes me want to squeeze you to death.” “Alright.” She smirks. “Now, are you going to sing with me, or not?” \<<elseif $wolfmonster is true>> I wipe imaginative dust off my rib bones and clear my throat. Camilla snorts at the sight. “You’re meek for a monster.” “I’m just taking my time to amp up the terror.” “We’re waiting.” She smirks. “Now, are you going to sing with me, or not?” \<<elseif $arminius is true>> I wipe imaginative dust off my armor and clear my throat. Camilla snorts out a laugh at the sight. “You’re meek for a woman after revenge.” “I’m not. There was a stain.” “Whatever you say.” She smirks. “Now, are you going to sing with me, or not?” <</if>> <<button[[Continue|sat_camillasing]]>><</button>>

Niall looks at his people with a wavering smile. “I’m sorry, I need some space. Could you…?” The crowd slowly scatters, still looking at me, and at Niall. Soon enough, however, the party goes on as before. Now, there’s just me and Niall. He still doesn’t look at me. Instead, he smiles nervously at his nails. Then, he takes a deep breath, and turns his gaze on me. Finally, when our eyes meet, the smile on his face turns genuine. Finally, he looks happy to see me. Why did it take so long? What’s with him tonight? <<button[[''Why did you look at me like that?''|sat_nialllookwhy?]]>><</button>> <<button[["You look good." I try to ignore the weirdness.|sat_lookgoodniall]]>><</button>>

“Like what?” he asks. He’s acting dumb. He’s buying time. “Like I was maggot,” I say. His face falls. Shame, confusion, and everything between battles for dominance in his expressive features. Finally, he says, “You saw that.” He doesn’t deny it. He knows he looked at me like that. “Of course I saw it,” I say. What kind of a statement is that? “I’m not blind.” “You see everything,” he mutters under his breath, rubbing his naked biceps. “You are acting weird,” I say and take a step back. “No,” he says. “No, I’m acting like myself. I just want to dance.” “Dancing has nothing to do with this, Niall. Why are you acting like we’re strangers?” “I just want to dance without stumbling on my feet, is that too much to ask?” “What are you talking about?” He takes a deep breath. “I don’t know. All I know is that when you’re near me, I feel like a failure. I feel ugly and naked. I stumble over my feet, I fall, I feel like a… Failure,” he repeats the last word as a whisper. \<<if $niall_user is true>> My breath quickens with anger. Is he saying that I’m the problem? After spouting out all that nonsense, he’s now saying that I make him feel like that? Is he implying that he wants to– \<<else>> Hearing those words stabs me deep in my stomach. I flinch, shield myself, try to process his words. How could I make him feel that bad with me? Am I doing something wrong? <</if>>\ “Maybe I shouldn’t be near you, then,” I say. That’s the only logical solution. He looks around him. He looks at the people who reluctantly left his side, whose attention he so readily craved. \<<if $fight is true>> Then, he looks in the direction where Marcus is. He yanks his gaze away, back to the floor. <</if>>\ Then, he says in a quiet voice, “Maybe… You shouldn’t.” The voice is silent and shameful. And deeply insulting. <<button[[Leave without a word.|sat_leavenowordsniall]]>><</button>> <<button[[''I didn't think you were such a coward.''.|sat_cowardniall]]>><</button>> <<button[[Maybe this is for the best. I'll leave soon, after all.|sat_leavesoonniall]]>><</button>>

I don’t know what to say. So, instead of talking, I turn on my heels and start walking away. “Wait–” I hear him saying after me. What else would he want to say? He already said he doesn’t want me here. I keep walking, and he doesn’t run after me. [[Continue|sat_marcusniallcupid]]

“It’s written all over your face. If you feel like a failure, maybe that’s because you are.” My words are pure poison, meant to harm him, meant to stab him like he stabbed me. He flinches at my words, retreating from me, shrinking to himself. All he manages to do is to give me a nod of agreement. He believes those words as readily as I do. Now that everything’s been said, I turn on my heels and start walking away. He doesn’t follow me. [[Continue|sat_marcusniallcupid]]

\<<set $go_niall_go to true>> I take a shaky and confused breath. I didn’t expect this evening to turn out like this. But, maybe this is for the best. \<<if $determined is true>> He would’ve only been in my way, anyway. I am, after all, planning on killing his father and brother. Why did I think it would be a good idea to get close to him, anyway? He’s a liability. He’s always been that. This is for the best. \<<else>> I will leave with my siblings soon, anyway. Just a few more days and I will leave these people behind. I will leave Niall, too. Maybe this is his way of distancing me from himself. The thought stings, but it is what it is. <</if>>\ So, I give him an understanding nod. “I see,” I say. My voice sounds detached, even if I wasn’t ready for a night like this, I will leave with my head held high. \<<if $determined is true>> I would’ve preferred to be the one to leave him, but the thought rings a little vain. “Let's just stay out of each other’s way,” I say. <</if>>\ He looks at me in confusion. It’s as if he didn’t expect me to say that. As if he wanted me to… What? Fight? Cry? Insult him and kick him in the face? No. I won’t entertain him any longer. “Io Saturnalia,” I say and turn on my heels. “Wait,” he says silently, but I don’t stop to listen. And he doesn’t follow me. [[Continue|sat_marcusniallcupid]]

There’s someone in the crowd I don’t recognize. It’s difficult not to notice him, there’s a commanding aura about him. And I presume he’s a man, he’s built like one, but his face is completely covered by a mask of a golden eagle. He stands alone, leaning against the wall. He peers over his goblet of wine, looking at the people around him. He looks like he doesn’t belong, but that it doesn’t bother him. Despite the lack of people around him, he looks content with himself. He scans the room leisurely, but with the calculating stance of a predator. His sinewy frame is draped in an expensive pure white toga. <<button[[Look at him from afar.|sat_lookatemperor]]>><</button>> <<button[[I'm not interested. I look away.|sat_notinterestedemperor]]>><</button>>

\<<set $emperor_bestie to true>> Then, his beak turns to face me and his gaze locks with mine. He knew that I was looking. There were many eyes on him, but no one dared to look at the lone golden masked man as long as I did. There’s something about his aura that prevents me from looking away. He’s a magnet, drawing my gaze with his silent confidence. Something, however, tells me that I should walk away from him. Now. The instinct of a prey tries to kick in. <<button[[Ignore it. I'm a predator myself.|sat_predatoremperor]]>><</button>> <<button[[I should leave.|sat_leavemperor]]>><</button>>

He seems trouble. I have enough on my plate right now to add more to it. So, I focus my attention elsewhere. <<button[[Continue|sat_legate]]>><</button>>

\<<set $predator to true>> If I didn’t know any better, I’d say he gave me a smile. Then, as anticipated, he starts walking towards me. A sense of foreboding fear tries to warn me again, but I promptly ignore it. It’d be foolish to show him weakness. He stops only a couple of steps away from me, almost standing too close, almost invading my personal space without any regard for my comfort. He stares at me in complete silence. I know this game all too well. Instead of showing any sense of discomfort, I give him a smile. \<<if $masked is true>> He might not see it, but he does notice my relaxed body. \<<else>> I might be mistaken, but I think he returns the smile. <</if>> \<<if $cleopatra is true>> “My lady,” he says. His voice is detached and cold, yet there’s a layer of amusement beneath. It takes but a moment to realize that he’s referring to my outfit. “It’s been a while since you’ve stepped your graceful foot on the soil of Rome.” His voice sounds polite and buttery enough, but it’s raspy. As if a play of make believe such as this doesn’t come naturally to him. As if he’s more used to barking out commands. <<button[[Play along.|sat_playalongemperor]]>><</button>> \<<elseif $hercules is true>> \<<elseif $mouse is true>> “Looks can be deceiving,” I say in a low voice, matching his intimidating energy. Mustering that kind of energy when wearing a mouse outfit is a feat of its own. “A wolf, are you?” he asks, his tone fully intrigued and amused. “I can scarcely believe it.” “I’m not here to prove myself to you.” //shut up// //he will kill you// I frown at the voice. What is it talking about? He seems like any other haughty Roman highborn. No. Maybe not. His stance is like that of a man who has nothing to prove to anyone in this room. The other Senators walk like they have everything to prove and nothing to show for it. “Who are you?” I ask. But he doesn’t answer. <<button[[Continue|sat_emperor_leaves]]>><</button>> \<<elseif $wolfmonster is true>> “You look like you could rip every throat open in this room.” His voice is low, intrigued. His gaze slowly moves down on my body. “Could you?” “Not by your command,” I say. //don’t provoke him// “Oh? By whom then?” “None of your business.” //no no no// He lets out a cold chuckle, like a cough. He’s not used to laughing. “You look like a messenger of the gods. The wild ones, the ones who burn their faithful in the pyre.” It’s not a question. He’s stating it as a fact. A fact that intrigues him. And it makes me snarl. “Don’t talk like you know me.” //burn burn burn// Another chuckle. A croak of a raven. He has a sudden urge to pick my brain. <<button[[Continue|sat_emperor_leaves]]>><</button>> \<<elseif $arminius is true>> <<button[[''Arminius, is that you?''|sat_arminiusemperor]]>><</button>> <</if>>\

\<<set $prey to true>> If I didn’t know any better, I’d say he gave me a smile. Then, as I feared, he starts walking towards me. A sense of foreboding fear tries to make me flee. //run little rabbit// \<<if $fire is true>> I take a step back, and immediately almost curse at myself. I shouldn’t show him weakness. But I did it anyway. \<<elseif $air is true>> I empty my mind. Instead, I look at him approaching me with a sense of detachment. I shouldn’t show weakness. \<<elseif $earth is true>> I wait for him to approach me. Despite the myriad of feelings stirring within, I let none of it show on my face. \<<elseif $water is true>> I take a step back, and it’s a mistake. He’s marked me a prey now. <</if>> \<<if $cleopatra is true>> “My lady,” he says. His voice is detached and cold, yet there’s a layer of amusement beneath. It takes but a moment to realize that he’s referring to my outfit. “It’s been a while since you’ve stepped your graceful foot on the soil of Rome.” His voice sounds polite and buttery enough, but it’s raspy. As if a play of make believe such as this doesn’t come naturally to him. As if he’s more used to barking out commands. <<button[[Play along.|sat_playalongemperor]]>><</button>> \<<elseif $hercules is true>> \<<elseif $mouse is true>> “A rodent. At least you act your part.” An amused smirk rings through his words. Something tells me that I should play along unless I want my head to fall on the ground like a ripe apple. “Why a mouse?” he asks. <<button[[''Mice are cute.''|sat_cutemice]]>><</button>> \<<elseif $wolfmonster is true>> “A monster, a predator, acting like a little rabbit. How…” A heavy pause. “Amusing.” A smirk rings through his words. Something tells me that I should play along unless I want my head to fall on the ground like a ripe apple. <<button[[''You caught me, my Lord.''|sat_preymonsteremperor]]>><</button>> \<<elseif $arminius is true>> <<button[[''Arminius, is that you?''|sat_arminiusemperor]]>><</button>> <</if>>\

!!Later that night. Now there’s a man I recognize all too well. His family won’t be happy about him being here. Legate doesn’t have a costume on, he’s walking around with a purewhite toga on him. His guards make him way through the crowd. \<<if $masked is true>> He won’t recognize me with the mask on, and that’s a small blessing. He looks like he’s looking for something. Or someone. His runaway wife? His rebelling son? He’s a failed pater familias in any sense of the word. And the thought makes me smirk to myself. \<<else>> He looks like he’s looking for something. Or someone. His runaway wife? His rebelling son? All I can hope is that he won’t notice me. However, it’s questionable if he’d even remember me. I’ve crossed paths with him from time to time, but I’m just a soldier for him. A ‘friend’ of his son, perhaps, but a regular soldier still. <</if>>\ As I look at him, a thought pops into my mind. \<<if $teetotaller isnot true>> The mad plan seems all but fueled by the alcohol I’ve consumed. <</if>>\ A smirk tries to creep onto my lips. I could have my revenge on Marcus in a wholly different way. <<button[[Yes, let's explore this thought.|sat_explorelegate]]>><</button>> <<button[[No. I don't like where this is going.|sat_noexplorelegate]]>><</button>>

\<<if (($loud_pervert is true) or ($shy_pervert is true))>> Only I can do that. <</if>>\ She doesn’t look comfortable with the conversation. How could she? The man is disgusting. She looks like she’s trapped in the conversation with him. Without a second thought, I start walking towards the pair, to try and get Tinsae’s attention through sheer power of my will. \<<if (($masked is true) and ($wolfmonster isnot true))>> She turns to look at me, feeling my gaze on her. Of course, she doesn’t recognize me because of my mask. She returns my gaze with a polite smile, wondering who I am, if she knows me, if she should know me. There are so many people she has to know in her line of work, unless she wants to hurt any potential business partner’s feelings. Then, finally, she recognizes me. “Oh!” I can hear her exclamation. \<<elseif (($masked is true) and ($wolfmonster is true))>> She turns to look at me, feeling my gaze on her. Of course, she doesn’t recognize me because of my mask. She returns my gaze with a polite smile, wondering who I am, if she knows me, if she should know me. There are so many people she has to know in her line of work, unless she wants to hurt any potential business partner’s feelings. When she fully takes a note of my outfit, the smile on her face turns into a confused one. There’s a flash of concern in her gaze. That is, before she realizes who I am. “Oh!” I can hear her exclamation. \<<else>> When her gaze meets with mine, the polite smile turns into something more genuine. <</if>>\ She says something brief to the Senator, who by now looks mildly irritated. He looks for the source of interruption, spots me, and gives me a disgusted grimace. Tinsae, completely ignoring the man by now, walks towards me with a relieved smile. <<button[[Continue|sat_tinsaecostume]]>><</button>>

Despite the smile on her face, there are signs that she is, in fact, uncomfortable with the conversation. She wears the mask of politeness extremely well, even when facing a slimy man such as the one she’s talking with. I wonder if he’s one of her benefactors, or business partners. Either way, she seems stuck with the one-sided conversation. \<<if (($masked is true) and ($wolfmonster isnot true))>> She turns to look at me, feeling my gaze on her. Of course, she doesn’t recognize me because of my mask. She returns my gaze with a polite smile, wondering who I am, if she knows me, if she should know me. There are so many people she has to know in her line of work, unless she wants to hurt any potential business partner’s feelings. Then, finally, she recognizes me. “Oh!” I can hear her exclamation. \<<elseif (($masked is true) and ($wolfmonster is true))>> She turns to look at me, feeling my gaze on her. Of course, she doesn’t recognize me because of my mask. She returns my gaze with a polite smile, wondering who I am, if she knows me, if she should know me. There are so many people she has to know in her line of work, unless she wants to hurt any potential business partner’s feelings. When she fully takes a note of my outfit, the smile on her face turns into a confused one. There’s a flash of concern in her gaze. That is, before she realizes who I am. “Oh!” I can hear her exclamation. \<<else>> When her gaze meets with mine, the polite smile turns into something more genuine. <</if>>\ She says something brief to the Senator, who by now looks mildly irritated. He looks for the source of interruption, spots me, and gives me a disgusted grimace. Tinsae, completely ignoring the man by now, walks towards me with a relieved smile. <<button[[Continue|sat_tinsaecostume]]>><</button>>

“Darling,” she says as if I was the one she was waiting for the whole night. “I was expecting you.” “You were?” I look at the man who was left behind. Tinsae touches my chin lightly, guiding my gaze back to her smiling face. She says, “You are the most interesting person in this whole room, dear.” \<<if $cleopatra is true>> <<button[[Continue|sat_tinsaecleopatra]]>><</button>> \<<elseif $hercules is true>> \<<elseif $mouse is true>> “And you are so cute!” she says with a wide smile. “Can I pinch on your cheeks?” <<button[[''Absolutely not, we are not married yet.''|sat_marriedmouse]]>><</button>> <<button[["Go for it." I fill my cheeks with air.|sat_cheeairtinsae]]>><</button>> \<<elseif $wolfmonster is true>> “Especially with what you’re wearing,” she says as she takes a step back to admire my attire. “You are properly terrifying.” “Thank you kindly.” “I mean it. You look…” She searches for the right word. “Slightly demonic.” I nod at the compliments. “Only slightly?” She lets out a laugh. “Properly demonic?” “Thank you, thank you. That was what I was going for.” She shakes her head with a wide smile. “You are quite welcome.” Then, she gives me a teasing smile. “Are you a kind monster, or an evil one?” <<button[[''I'm kind, I promise.''|sat_kindmonster]]>><</button>> <<button[["I will devour you whole." I smile at the thought.|sat_devourtinsae]]>><</button>> \<<elseif $arminius is true>> <<button[[Continue|sat_tinsaearminius]]>><</button>> <</if>>\

\<<if $determined is true>> That’s a lie. And she knows it, too. She knows the costume fits me too well, and I like it a little too much. How people look at me in concern, even fear. It makes me smile. And she knows it. Despite that, Tinsae takes a curious step towards me. “I see,” she says. She wants to believe me. \<<else>> I try to be. Despite the occasional screams in my head, I try to behave my best. Tearing peoples’ throats open would be rude. I blink at my thoughts. They’re more prominent tonight. I wonder why. She gives me a small, reassuring smile. “I believe you,” she says. She does. She appreciates the effort and she’s here to support me. For now. <</if>>\ She touches the skull on my face. There’s a myriad of feelings dancing within her gaze when she looks at me. Everything between grief and intrigue. She tilts her head slightly, as if to see me better beneath the bone. I can hear her thumb caressing the dead surface of my mask. “You disturb me,” she says with a small smile. <<button[[Grab her arm.|sat_grabtinsae]]>><</button>> <<button[[Behave.|sat_behave]]>><</button>>

To be the one to extinguish her light would be a treat. The way the skull resonates my words makes them sound even more deranged. Despite that, Tinsae takes a curious step towards me. “Why?” she asks. She seeks to understand me. She doesn’t shy away from darkness, despite her light. “Because…” I take a moment to wonder if I can tell her. If she could ever understand. But, no. It’s not the time. And I tell her as such. Tinsae smiles, both of us unsure what is said in a jest, what is serious. \<<if $manipulated is true>> I hope everything I just thought was a jest. The intrusive thoughts have been quite strong tonight. <</if>>\ She touches the skull on my face. There’s a myriad of feelings dancing within her gaze when she looks at me. Everything between grief and intrigue. She tilts her head slightly, as if to see me better beneath the bone. I can hear her thumb caressing the dead surface of my mask. “You disturb me,” she says with a small smile. <<button[[Grab her arm.|sat_grabtinsae]]>><</button>> <<button[[Behave.|sat_behave]]>><</button>>

Tinsae lets out a shout when I grab her soft arm, squeeze it with almost too much force. She catches her breath, looks at me with widened eyes. She doesn’t try to fight her arm back. She wants to see what I’m going to do with it. “Is everything alright?” A man dressed as a cabbage asks Tinsae. He looks at me with suspicion. She blinks once, twice. Then, a polite smile appears on her face as she says, “Of course.” Her eyes are still locked with mine. Finally, she turns to the man. “Thank you for asking.” The cabbage man doesn’t look too convinced, but convinced enough that he continues walking. Finally, I let go of her arm. She will bruise. She gives me a faint smile. “Do you want to dance?” [[Continue|sat_tinsaedance]]

I merely smile underneath my skull. Maybe I disturb myself, too. Maybe I should take the skull off my face. Maybe, maybe. Tinsae lets out a little laugh. “I jest,” she says, but it’s a lie. She gives me a faint smile. “Do you want to dance?” [[Continue|sat_tinsaedance]]

“Oh, I absolutely adore what you’re wearing. Cleopatra was a formidable woman and you look the part.” \<<if $cisman is true>> She gives me a playful smile. “Well… You know what I mean, darling." <</if>>\ “You look good, too,” I say. “Why, thank you so much.” She twirls in her golden dress. Once she stops, she looks at me expectantly. She waits for me to answer her twirl with a twirl. <<button[[Indulge in some twirling.|sat_twirltinsae]]>><</button>> <<button[[I don't feel like it.|sat_notwirltinsae]]>><</button>>

Why not? It’s been so long since I’ve got to twirl in a dress. I take Tinsae’s hands and she giggles in surprise. “Are you going to–” I start to spin around in a circle with her hands in mine, her dress and mine flowing with the movement. Tinsae laughs brightly as we spin around like two children in a meadow. \<<if (($water is true) or ($fire is true))>> And I laugh with her. Something about this reminds me of my childhood. Tinsae’s eyes twinkle with joy when she looks at me, my laughter only amplifying the sound of her own. \<<else>> And I smile at the sound of it. I didn’t spin around in a meadow when I was a child, but something about this feels nostalgic still. <</if>>\ When we finally stop, partly because a woman dressed as a carrot almost bumped into us,, Tinsae is out of breath. The smile on her face is wide, yet almost self-conscious. “By the Goddess, I really should exercise more. You are barely affected.” I shrug. “Comes with the life of a soldier.” She gives me a sneaky smile. “You look the part, too.” Her eyes linger on my arms. “You look stunning.” Suddenly, her hand rests on my cheek. She looks at me with a gentle gaze. “Please, tell me if this bothers you.” <<button[["Be careful," I say. "I might get ideas."|sat_ideastinsae]]>><</button>> <<button[[I just stare at her, unsure what to say.|sat_staretinsae]]>><</button>> <<button[[Retreat from her touch.|sat_retreattinsae]]>><</button>>

“Maybe later,” I say. She pouts in playful disappointment. “Of course, we need to save something up for later in the evening. Still…” Her eyes linger on my arms. “You look stunning.” Suddenly, her hand rests on my cheek. She looks at me with a gentle gaze. “Please, tell me if this bothers you.” <<button[["Be careful," I say. "I might get ideas."|sat_ideastinsae]]>><</button>> <<button[[I just stare at her, unsure what to say.|sat_staretinsae]]>><</button>> <<button[[Retreat from her touch.|sat_retreattinsae]]>><</button>>

She starts laughing brightly at my jab. “Why, of course, I forgot the ritualistic cheek pinching of marriage.” “Indeed, you harlot, keep your hands to yourself.” Her laughter turns even brighter and louder. “By the Goddess, yes. And I’m a proud harlot, thank you very much.” I give her a grin. Then, as a revenge, she quickly pinches my cheeks. “Ouch!” “Oh! I’m so sorry,” she says, caressing the skin of my cheeks. “I got carried away.” There's a smile on her face that implies it wasn't a complete accident. I smirk at the thought. Then, I only just realize how close she is to my face. Not only that, but how gently she’s touching me. <<button[["Be careful," I say. "I might get ideas."|sat_ideastinsae]]>><</button>> <<button[[I just stare at her, unsure what to say.|sat_staretinsae]]>><</button>> <<button[[Retreat from her touch.|sat_retreattinsae]]>><</button>>

She laughs at the sight of it. “I can’t pinch them if you do that.” “Oh, no,” I say and fill them again. Then, she does the unthinkable. She pokes my cheeks with her index fingers, deflating them empty, and piches them both at the same time. “Ouch!” “Oh! I’m so sorry,” she says, caressing the skin of my cheeks to take the pain away. “I got carried away.” I only just realize how close she is to my face. Not only that, but how gentle her touch is. <<button[["Be careful," I say. "I might get ideas."|sat_ideastinsae]]>><</button>> <<button[[I just stare at her, unsure what to say.|sat_staretinsae]]>><</button>> <<button[[Retreat from her touch.|sat_retreattinsae]]>><</button>>

“Ideas that involve something more than your cute cheeks?” she asks with a smile, her tone still playful. But something changes in her gaze. Her dark eyes glimmer with gold. She holds my gaze for a while longer as she continues to run her soft fingers across my cheeks. Then, the spark dies. She retracts her hand. “You are right. I will be more careful,” she says with a smile. The sudden change in her demeanor leaves me in confusion. “I–” “I’m sorry, dear, I just remembered something.” That’s not really an explanation. Or is it? I frown in confusion, but it seems that she isn’t willing to continue the conversation further. “Do you want to dance?” she asks to change the topic. [[Continue|sat_tinsaedance]]

I open my mouth to say something, anything, but nothing comes out. There’s only her, so close to me that I can feel her warm breath on my skin. She smells of flowers and wine. Something changes in her gaze when she looks at me. Her dark eyes glimmer with gold. She holds my gaze for a while longer as she continues to run her soft fingers across my cheeks. Then, the spark dies. She retracts her hand. “You are right. I will be more careful,” she says with a smile. The sudden change in her demeanor leaves me in confusion. “I–” “I’m sorry, dear, I just remembered something.” That’s not really an explanation. Or is it? I frown in confusion, but it seems that she isn’t willing to continue the conversation further. “Do you want to dance?” she asks to change the topic. [[Continue|sat_tinsaedance]]

For whatever reason, I don’t feel like being touched like that, not right now. “I’m sorry,” she says with an apologetic smile. “I hope I didn’t make you uncomfortable.” “It’s alright, I just…” “There is no need to explain yourself, dear. It’s really alright.” I nod. She gives me another disarming smile. “Do you want to dance?” she asks. [[Continue|sat_tinsaedance]]

(Dancing and having fun with Tinsae coming soon.) Then... <<button[[There's a man I don't recognize.|sat_emperor]]>><</button>>

I’m not sure what else to say. And it’s the truth, he does look good. With a meek ‘oh’, he looks at his outfit, as if checking to see what I see. His flat stomach is shaved clean. “You’ve lost weight,” I remark. The soft stomach of his is gone. He looks even more like the statues of Celtic warriors. “I was on a diet,” he says, letting out a self-conscious laugh and moving a little to the side, as if trying to hide his belly. He clears his throat. “I wanted to look my best for the party.” The words leave him slightly more confidently than usual. He knows he looks good. This is his natural habitat, around people admiring him, showering him with praise. “I love Saturnalia,” he says, as if to explain himself further. “The people are always so happy. They buy each other gifts, laugh, dance…” He smiles to himself, looking at the crowd. “You look good, too,” he says with a smile. He barely spares a glance at my outfit, his gaze is already elsewhere. He fidgets his pearls. There’s no way around it. Clearly something is wrong and I need to directly ask about it. “What’s wrong?” I ask. “Nothing. I… I just wanted to dance.” “I don’t forbid you from dancing.” “No, of course not, but… It’s complicated.” “It must be. I don’t understand anything.” I don’t understand what’s the problem. “Me neither,” he admits, and the statement rings true. “I don’t know why I’m like this with you,” he says. “I’m not just saying it to be coy or mysterious or… I just don’t know. All I know is that when you’re near me, I feel like a failure. I feel ugly and naked. I stumble over my feet, I fall, I feel like a… Failure,” he repeats the last word as a whisper. \<<if $niall_user is true>> My breath quickens with anger. Is he saying that I’m the problem? After spouting out all that nonsense, he’s now saying that I make him feel like that? Is he implying that he wants to– \<<else>> Hearing those words stabs me deep in my stomach. I flinch, shield myself, try to process his words. How could I make him feel that bad with me? Am I doing something wrong? <</if>>\ “Maybe I shouldn’t be near you, then,” I say. That’s the only logical solution. He looks around him. He looks at the people who reluctantly left his side, whose attention he so readily craved. \<<if $fight is true>> Then, he looks in the direction where Marcus is. He yanks his gaze away, back to the floor. <</if>>\ Then, he says in a quiet voice, “Maybe… You shouldn’t.” The voice is silent and shameful. And deeply insulting. <<button[[Leave without a word.|sat_leavenowordsniall]]>><</button>> <<button[[''I didn't think you were such a coward.''.|sat_cowardniall]]>><</button>> <<button[[Maybe this is for the best. I'll leave soon, after all.|sat_leavesoonniall]]>><</button>>

\<<if $teetotaller is true>> I take a sip at the grape juice with a deep frown on my face. Oh, how I have the urge to drown myself in wine right now. But I won’t. I won’t let him ruin my soberness. He already ruined my evening. \<<else>> I take a healthy gulp of the vinegary wine and grimace at the taste. Mead would be much more preferable, but of course these Roman fools don’t have it here. This will do. Niall already ruined my evening, I won’t let the wine do the same. <</if>>\ I drink for a while, stew in my annoyance, not sure what to do with my time now. Did he actually just end our relationship? We didn’t even have any relationship! \<<if $party_pooper is true>> I didn’t even want to be here in the first place. \<<elseif $party_animal is true>> I didn’t dress up for this, I won’t let him ruin my evening. With newfound determination, I get up and brace myself for having fun. <</if>>\ “I wish I could say that I’m surprised that he made you cry,” someone says. And I know that voice all too well. “But… Maybe I shouldn’t be.” “I’m not crying,” I say to Marcus. [[Continue|sat_notcrying]]

\<<if (($water is true) or ($fire is true))>> Maybe tears of frustration threatened to fall on my cheek, but I refused to let them. Marcus gives me a small grin. “You look like you’re about to.” He sits down next to me. \<<elseif (($air is true) or ($earth is true))>> I stare at him to prove my words to be true. Marcus smirks at the sight. “You’re not, you’re right. You just look slightly psychotic with that expressionless face of yours.” He sits down next to me. “Don’t cut his balls off, it would be a hassle.” <</if>>\ Just as I’m about to ask him to leave, he says, “He’s been acting a little weird with you, did you know that?” He’s noticed something, too? “What do you mean?” “It’s difficult to explain,” he muses as he sips his wine. “When he’s with you, he’s more of a fool. In an endearing way, I suppose.” “So he wasn’t such a fool before?” “He was always vain and loved attention. With you, he seems more like an open wound.” Another sip. “I think he likes you.” “He’s like a festering wound with me and you think that’s because he likes me?” “Something like that,” he says with a shrug. “Love works in mysterious ways. Or something. I don’t know.” “Thank you for the words of wisdom, truly,” I say, my words oozing of sarcasm. He gives me a playful grin. \<<if $lovetriangleroute is true>> “So you don’t mind that he likes me?” Neverminding what just happened with Niall, him being here to defend his brother like this is interesting. “No,” he says flatly. “He’s going to crawl back to you soon enough. I will be here to enjoy the show.” He gives me one last smirk and leaves. I’m left looking at his receding naked back. He claims he doesn’t mind my relationship with Niall, but I wonder. Well, I’ll give Niall until I’ve drunk my goblet to crawl back to me, or else I’ll follow Marcus. Or just go home. \<<else>> “He pushed me away and you’re here saying that he likes me.” “He’s going to crawl back to you,” he says with a smile. “He’s sulking in some corner with a jug of wine in his hand, readying himself for an apology.” The smile turns into a grin. “Just you wait.” With that, he leaves. I frown at the sight. Who does he think he is, coming up to me to talk like we’re friends? However, his words make me question the route my night is going to take. <</if>>\ He said he’ll be drinking in the corner somewhere? It does sound plausible. \<<if $go_niall_go is true>> However, I wonder if it even matters. <</if>> \<<if $lovetriangleroute is true>> Niall is nowhere to be seen. So, I guess I'll go and find Marcus. <<button[[Continue|sat_marcusafterniall]]>><</button>> \<<else>> <<button[[Continue|sat_camillapoisonsniall]]>><</button>> <</if>>\

Before I can regret my hastily made decision, I’m already walking towards the man who took everything away from me. Who should die for everything he’s done. “Io Saturnalia,” I say. \<<if $water is true>> My tone manages to sound almost friendly. \<<elseif $fire is true>> My voice comes out as a growl more than a jovial greeting. I clear my throat and force a smile on my face. \<<elseif (($air is true) or ($earth is true))>> My tone is flat, devoid of emotions. <</if>> \<<if $masked is true>> He doesn’t hide the irritation over being addressed by a stranger. He’s the mighty Legate, after all. “Io Saturnalia to you, too.” Since he doesn’t recognize me, there is little to no reason for him to act friendly with someone he’s never seen before. With that, he doesn’t even bother giving me a nod of farewell. Damn it, there goes that plan. Was it even a plan? No. Maybe it’s better this way. <<button[[Continue|sat_noexplorelegate]]>><</button>> \<<else>> <<button[[Continue|sat_legatecontinues]]>><</button>> <</if>>\

\<<if $teetotaller isnot true>> That was definitely the wine talking. I will continue my evening in a more pleasant way. \<<else>> I can’t even blame the crossing thought on wine. Nevertheless, I will continue my evening in a more pleasant way. <</if>> (more coming soon)

\<<set $marcus_wife to true>> The frown on his face quickly disappears when he sees who I am. “Gods be damned, am I glad to see you, boy.” He smacks my shoulder with a wide grin on his face as he blasphemes his gods. “Are you having fun?” “So much fun, my Lord.” My tone is extremely dry, but it doesn’t seem to bother him. I wonder if he’s even used to reading other people’s emotions. A man like him doesn’t need to bother. “That’s great to hear!” He smiles brightly and squeezes my shoulder. Then, the smile transforms into a more forced one. “Have you seen my son?” Hm. I wonder if I should tell him. Different possibilities run through my mind. \<<if (($marcus_soloroute is true) or ($lovetriangleroute is true))>> “He had to run back to the barracks, my Lord. I’m sure he’ll be here soon enough.” “What good news,” he says, relief relaxing his tense shoulders. \<<else>> However, there’s the small detail of me not even knowing where he is. “I haven’t, my Lord.” “Oh, well,” he says with a small, annoyed frown. He really wanted to meet him. <</if>>\ “May I ask, my Lord?” He nods with a wide smile. “Why are you looking for him?” “I’m arranging for his transfer back to Rome. He’s still here, acting out like a stubborn little boy despite having a wife and a perfect career waiting for him in the City.” “He has a… What?” “Can you believe that he’s still here in the periphery of the Empire wasting his life (and fertility) away? Now, soldier, don’t you go thinking that I’m complaining about Germania. I love the people here, they are an absolute delight. Their simplistic worldview is a breath of fresh air after the schemes of Rome.” \<<if (($marcus_soloroute is true) or ($lovetriangleroute is true))>> I barely listen to his insulting view of the simple folks here, since my mind is still processing what he just said about Marcus’s wife. <<button[[Not that I care, of course. It was just a surprise.|sat_justasurpriselegate]]>><</button>> <<button[[I'm not sure what to think of this.|sat_legatenotsure]]>><</button>> <<button[[Why do I feel betrayed and angry?|sat_legateangry]]>><</button>> \<<else>> I listen to his insulting views of the simple folks here, wondering if I can use this information against Marcus somehow. However, a secret and an absent wife seems barely an important piece of information. So, I nod, wondering what I should do about him. <<button[[Continue|sat_otherslegate]]>><</button>> <</if>>\

\<<if $niall_soloroute is true>> I doubt Niall would be thrilled about what I’m going to do. Sure, we are technically not in a relationship in any sort, but it’s still his father that I’m planning on… Well. Needless to say, he wouldn’t be happy. \<<elseif $camilla_bath is true>> I wonder what Camilla thinks of me talking to his husband like this? If she knew what I had in mind? She doesn’t seem too keen on him, and I can’t really blame her. Besides, she would understand the need for revenge. She’s the type. \<<else>> I wonder if Tinsae would care about what I had in mind? She seems to keep me at an arm’s length at times, so we are definitely not inclusive in our relationship. If there even is a relationship to speak of. <</if>>\ Besides, would Marcus even care if I did what I’m planning on doing? At least it would be insulting, if not outright wounding. <<button[[Continue|sat_legatewhatnow?]]>><</button>>

\<<if (($determined is true) or ($marcus_killer is true))>> Why should I care? I plan on making him pay anyway. A small part of me perhaps hopes that his wife and him aren’t that close, just so she won’t be left in the world to mourn after a man like that. That would be embarrassing for her. However, I’m not sure if I care either way. \<<else>> Why should I care? I was leaving anyway. And it sounds like he’s leaving, too. Good. Mutual leaving will happen. But something about this makes me clench my jaw. <</if>> No, it’s the part of lying that irks me. He wasn’t supposed to keep things from me, not things like this. Not after what he did to me. <<button[[Continue|sat_legatewhatnow?]]>><</button>>

I slightly frown at the stirring emotions within, not sure what to think about this. I’m not sure if I care that he has a wife, maybe that was to be expected. He’s of that age, after all. Maybe it’s the lying part that irks me the most. On the other hand, why would he tell me? It’s not like we’re friends. Or… Anything else for that matter. Right? Right. <<button[[Continue|sat_legatewhatnow?]]>><</button>>

I frown at the emotions stirring within me. I’m not supposed to care about this. This has nothing to do with me. He can have ten secret wives for all I care. Right? The words sound logical and reasonable enough in my head, but something prevents me from taking solace in them. This is… Ridiculous. I almost laugh at the anger that tries to lash out at the man in front of me, gushing about the beautiful woods here that the Romans are actively chopping down. Gushing about the simplistic folks that he deems lower than him. This man and his son with an arranged marriage are the bane of my existence. Romans are the bane of our communal existence. They should all die. <<button[[Continue|sat_legatewhatnow?]]>><</button>>

He doesn’t seem to care much for my silence. He keeps talking about Marcus, how he should man up and take responsibility for his life. “The other Senators have already started whispering. How I can’t keep my boy in check. An absolute disgrace, he is.” He’s breathing heavily when talking about Marcus, his disgrace of a son. I look at the Legate. I doubt he actually thinks his son is a disgrace. Something about him tells me that he desperately wants to be closer to him, and wants him to listen to him. For some reason, this man seems to trust me. Most likely because he mistakenly thinks that his son and I are close. That somehow, he could worm his way to his son through me. He’s desperate. This opens up doors for me. Should I seduce his father to hurt Marcus? <<button[[No, it's not worth it.|sat_closethedoorlegate]]>><</button>> <<button[[Yes.|sat_goallin]]>><</button>>

This was a stupid idea. If I gained nothing else from this, at least I learned about Marcus’s secret wife. “My Lord,” I say when the conversation has run its course. “Please forgive me,” the polite words grate my soul, “but I must take my leave.” \<<if (($camilla_bath is true) or ($tinsae_bath is true))>> “Wait just a moment, my boy,” he says, his smile waning just a little bit. “I’ve heard of rumors about you and my wife.” Blood stops still. “Oh?” Is all I manage to say. He will kill me. This is it, he will– “Let us be clear. I know my wife can act like a feral animal from time to time, and she can lash out at anyone.” He thinks Camilla attacked me without a reason? His words bring me a temporary relief, but– “But if I ever hear again that you’ve wrestled around in the snow in front of the whole fort, I will have to do something about it.” He smiles. But the smile is cold and emotionless. He’s already thought about having me executed. He takes a step forward, leaning towards me, still smiling, his teeth showing. “I will not be embarrassed by you, or that woman. Do you understand, son?” “Yes, my Lord.” There is nothing else to say. He’s letting me know that he could have taken my head already, but he chose not to. He chose to be lenient. As if that makes his heart good and filled with forgiveness. “I am glad we could come to an agreement,” he says, his smile warming up once again. “Now, I believe you said you have somewhere else to be?” “Yes, my Lord.” With my head lowered, I leave. Anger stirs within. (more coming soon) \<<else>> “Of course, my boy. Run along now,” he says and shoos me off like one of his slaves. (more coming soon) <</if>>\

I would be a fool to waste this opportunity. I see the way his gaze lingers for too long on my frame. I wonder if he thinks that his son and I are in a relationship? That would make his interest in me all the more perverse. What a disgusting family. “My Lord,” I say, my tone oozing honey. He tilts his head at the change of my voice. He’s intrigued. “I think that you deserve obedience from your children,” I say what he wants to hear. “I think that you, my Lord, are worthy of more than what he gives you.” His shoulders relax at my words. He wanted someone to say it out loud to him, he’s been desperate to hear it from someone. “Yes,” he says, closing his eyes, taking in my confirmation. He soaks it in like a needy sponge. He opens his eyes with a wide smile. “You are a brilliant young man. What was your name again?” He doesn’t even remember my name, yet he confides in me like a friend. What a peculiar man. “Hati, my Lord.” “What a weird name,” he says, musing to himself. “Exotic, one would say.” I force myself to smile at the backhanded compliment. He smiles. “Do you want to drink with me as I wait for my son?” “Of course.” He leads me to a vacant table. Well, it wasn’t vacant before, but his presence made it so before he had to even utter a word. Wherever he goes, everyone gives him room. No one dares to approach him. But they do whisper from afar, they gush about such a highranking man who graces the party with his presence. “Wine?” he asks. \<<if $teetotaller is true>> “No, thank you. I don’t drink alcohol.” A sense of puzzlement crosses his face. Then, he smiles to himself as he pours some for himself. “There are philosophers who abstain from drinking. I’ve always thought it a little snobbish. Before I can say anything, he says with a hearty laugh, “I didn’t mean to say that you’re a snob, my lad. You are…” He thinks on his next words. “Interesting. This just adds to it.” \<<else>> I nod. I’m starting to feel a little lightheaded. <</if>> <<button[[Continue|sat_legatewine]]>><</button>>

Something tells me I should. Something tells me that he wouldn’t hesitate to discard me like an old toy if I didn’t play to his whims. I became his toy the moment he felt my eyes on him. I sigh in a way only a haughty Queen would. “And how dreadful the welcome is, my Lord.” He reveals his amused lips, just barely lifting his mask so he can take my hand and place a small, yet in no way chaste, kiss on my hand. His gaze is locked with mine. His eyes are that of a shark, sizing me, wondering what I would taste like. “Dreadful, my lady. Is your heart filled with hatred towards the insolent plebeians? Should I punish them on your behalf?” <<button[[''My heart is filled with forgiveness, my Lord.''|sat_forgivenessemperor]]>><</button>> <<button[[''Kill them all, my Lord.''|sat_killthememperor]]>><</button>>

He gives me a cold smile. “Forgiveness? You are too kind, my Lady. But, you are right. If gods can forgive, so should we.” “Depends on the god.” I’m not sure if Twins forgive. “I am a forgiving god when I want to. Good and just. Are you?” \<<if $determined is true>> “No,” I say. “I didn’t mean anything I said. I deceive.” He stares at me in silence. Finally, he says, “Good.” \<<else>> “Yes.” There’s a small smile lingering on his lips. It’s a cold one. Still, he says, “Good.” <</if>> <<button[[Continue|sat_emperor_leaves]]>><</button>>

He gives me a cold smile. “Your wish is my command. Come night, every person here will be executed. In your name.” I let out an awkward laugh at the absurdity of the conversation. He, too, lets out a small chuckle. It’s more like a cough than a spout of genuine joy. The sound of a man who’s not used to laughing. “That’s a lot of work for one man,” I note. “I’m resourceful.” Maybe I’d be willing to help. A couple of men here would deserve it. But, this is all hypothetical. <<button[[Continue|sat_emperor_leaves]]>><</button>>

\<<if (($lovetriangleroute is true) or ($niall_soloroute is true))>> Then, someone’s familiar slurring voice rings from behind. “Hati, I’m sorry, please let me–” But Niall’s words are cut short when he sees the man that I’m with. Niall frowns at the sight of him, and I’m unsure if it’s because he suspects the motives of the man, or something else. “Am I interrupting?” Niall asks. There’s an uncertain smile on his face as he tries to sober up to make sense of what’s happening. The man all but ignores Niall. There’s a sense of disdain in the unknown man’s voice as he says, “Do have a pleasant evening.” Niall frowns at the receding back of the man. “Who was that?” Then, he adds in a self-deprecating tone, “Did you already replace me?” He adds an awkward laugh to let me know that he’s joking. <<button[[''Replace? We're just friends, remember?''|sat_justfriendsniall]]>><</button>> <<button[[''Do you really think you can joke like that after what you–''|sat_notinthemoodniall]]>><</button>> <<button[['Yes, he's my future husband. Any other questions?''|sat_futurehusbandniall]]>><</button>> <<button[[''No.''|sat_noniallno]]>><</button>> \<<elseif $marcus_soloroute is true>> I feel a presence behind me. It’s Marcus. He stares at the man as he takes a step forward, shielding me from him with his body. Marcus doesn’t look at me, his eyes are on the stranger. “Who are you?” Marcus asks. His words are sharp and demanding. He knows everyone at this party, but not him. It disturbs him. Instead of answering, the unknown man ignores Marcus, and looks straight at me. “Enjoy the rest of the party.” With that, he disappears into the crowd. Marcus stares at the receding back of the man for a few moments longer. Then, he turns to me with a deep frown on his face. “Stay away from that man.” <<button[[He seems weirdly serious about this.|sat_weirdlyseriousmarcus]]>><</button>> <<button[[''Do you think you can order me around?''|sat_marcusorder?]]>><</button>> \<<elseif $camilla_bath is true>> “What are you doing?” A familiar voice asks. Camilla looks at me with a deep frown on her face. But her annoyance isn’t aimed at me. “I was just…” I turn to look at the unknown man, but he’s not there anymore. He disappeared into the crowd. Camilla looks at the crowd, as well. She peers into the crowd with the intensity of a prey, searching for the source of the cracking of a branch that spooked her. It’s unlike her. “You were talking with someone,” she says. “A man, yes. He didn’t tell me his name.” Pregnant silence hangs heavy on us as she weighs on my words. Finally, she says, “Don’t talk to strangers.” Something about her words makes me stop myself from questioning the intent. She’s serious. And she’s concerned. So, I give her a nod. “I’m sure it was no one.” She doesn’t look convinced by my words. But still, she gives me a small nod. It’s as if she wants to believe me. <<button[[Continue|sat_legate]]>><</button>> \<<else>> “I was wondering where you–” But Tinsae’s words are cut short when she sees the man I’m with. A confused, and quite perturbed smile takes over her face. Instinctively, her hand lightly grabs my arm, as if readying herself to flee with me if the need arises. The unknown man looks at Tinsae, then me. A cold smile rings through his voice as he says, “Have a pleasant evening, both of you.” Tinsae remains silent. She looks at the man leaving, her forehead slightly creased in worry. “Did you know him?” I ask. My question seems to wake her up from her thoughts. “No. I don’t think so.” “You should stay away from him,” she says. Her voice is tight. <<button[[''Are you jealous?'' I smirk.|sat_jellytin?]]>><</button>> <<button[[''I plan on doing so, yes.''|sat_yesdeftin]]>><</button>> <</if>>\

“Cute,” he says, as if pondering on the meaning of the word. “Perhaps they are.” “They are, my Lord. Have you looked at one from up close?” He ponders on my question. “No.” He lets out a small chuckle, as if a cough. It’s the laugh of a man who’s not used to the act. Suddenly, he grabs my chin, forcing me to look at him. //don’t move// I hold my breath and stifle any urge to retalliate. \<<if $fire is true>> I want to bite him, I want to kick him, but I… \<<else>> I want to do something, to try and free myself from his grasp. But I… <</if>>\ I can’t. Something tells me that he would kill me on the spot. And no one would bat an eye. //good good good remain in place let him smell you let him take you you’ll have your time// He inhales me through his mask, squeezing my chin too hard just because he can. Finally, he says, “Yes.” He lets go of me. “Quite cute.” I breathe out. That was about cute mice? He grabbed me like it’s nothing to stare at my face like a maniac. Who does he think he is? <<button[[''Thank you, my Lord.''|sat_thanksemperor]]>><</button>> <<button[[Remain silent and look away.|sat_awayemperor]]>><</button>> <<button[[''I can't say the same, my Lord. Your beak isn't to my taste.''|sat_nobeakpls]]>><</button>>

Despite the rough handling I received, I look at him with a polite smile on my face. The act of looking at him in the eyes is a statement in its own. He looks pleased by it. I make a mental note of it. Something tells me I should. <<button[[Continue|sat_emperor_leaves]]>><</button>>

Do not provoke him. Do not look at him. Do not– He remains silent, almost as if he’s used to reactions similar to mine. He’s used to people looking at the ground around him. There’s an air of boredness around him. <<button[[Continue|sat_emperor_leaves]]>><</button>>

//no no no// He tilts his head slightly at my insult. By the Twins, $name, why can’t you just keep your mouth shut? But before I can berate myself further, he lets out another chuckle, even more cough-like than the other. <<button[[Continue|sat_emperor_leaves]]>><</button>>

He lets out a small chuckle, as if a cough. It’s the laugh of a man who’s not used to the act. Suddenly, he grabs my jaw, forcing me to look at him. //don’t move// I hold my breath and stifle any urge to retalliate. \<<if $fire is true>> I want to bite him, I want to kick him, but I… \<<else>> I want to do something, to try and free myself from his grasp. But I… <</if>>\ I can’t. Something tells me that he would kill me on the spot. And no one would bat an eye. //good good good remain in place let him smell you let him take you you’ll have your time// He inhales me through his mask, squeezing my jaw too hard just because he can. Finally, he says, “Sheep in wolf’s clothing.” He lets go of me. “Amusing.” I breathe out. He grabbed me like it’s nothing to stare at my face like a maniac. Who does he think he is? <<button[[''Thank you, my Lord.''|sat_thanksemperor]]>><</button>> <<button[[Remain silent and look away.|sat_awayemperor]]>><</button>> <<button[[''I can't say the same, my Lord. Your beak isn't to my taste.''|sat_nobeakpls]]>><</button>>

His tone is playful enough, but there’s something off about it. It’s as if he’s not used to it. As if he has to force it out. “Are you going to give me back my legions?” \<<if $dummy is true>> “Give you back what?” He gives me a long, deadpan look. The disapproval in his gaze is only amplified by his expressionless avian mask. “What you’re lacking in wit, you barely make up with your looks.” I frown at the backhanded compliment. No, it wasn’t a compliment at all. It was a complete insult. Who does this man think he is? //shut up shut up// I frown at the voice. I shouldn’t tell him that he’s a complete ass? I take another look at him. He wears his toga like a man who has nothing to prove. Who wouldn’t mind his purewhite toga to be stained with my blood, should the need arise. Right. I should probably be quiet. \<<else>> “Isn’t Varus more guilty of your Legions’ disappearance than I?” He gives me a thoughtful nod. “A Roman Senator drowned in a goblet of wine like a fruit fly.” He takes a step towards me. “Yes. He’s to blame.” Another step. “But you are the one who filled the cup.” “And I would do it again.” //no no no stop it he will// The man lets out a laugh. It sounds more like a cough. He’s not used to laughing. He could chop off my head. It would fall on the ground like a ripe apple. No one in this room would bat an eye. <</if>>\ “Disgusting creatures,” he says. Repulsion seeps through his words like rot oozes from an infected wound. “Germans?” I ask. I wouldn’t need to. He doesn’t answer. He looks at my helmet as if it personally offends him. <<button[[Continue|sat_emperor_leaves]]>><</button>>

She lets out a bitter laugh. She doesn’t wear a smile this time. “Please, don’t take my words lightly.” “What’s wrong? Who was him?” She keeps looking at the man, despite the fact that he’s already gone. It’s as if she wants to make sure she won’t come back. Her hand is on her amulet. “No one, I’m sure,” she says. She forces a smile on her face. It would fool strangers to think it’s genuine. “I just… thought I knew him. I don’t. Don’t worry.” I didn’t worry too much before, but her words make me question it. Maybe I should. She smiles. “Never mind him. Let us take our minds off things.” She offers her hand and leads us away from the scene. <<button[[Continue|sat_legate]]>><</button>>

Her shoulders relax. “Good.” She keeps looking at the man, despite the fact that he’s already gone. It’s as if she wants to make sure she won’t come back. Her hand is on her amulet. “Are you alright?” I ask. She sighs. “Of course. I just… thought I knew him. I don’t. Don’t worry.” I didn’t worry too much before, but her words make me question it. Maybe I should. She smiles. “Never mind him. Let us take our minds off things.” She offers her hand and leads us away from the scene. <<button[[Continue|sat_legate]]>><</button>>

My tone is as dry as my mouth is. I need a drink. “I know, I just… It was a stupid joke.” He rubs the back of his neck, looking like he’s ready to flee at any moment. “It was. But no, I don’t know that man.” Niall frowns at my words. He looks at the direction where he went, but he’s already gone. “Something seemed off about him,” he says in a quiet tone. “Or is it just me?” “Definitely not just you,” I say. “He looked like someone important.” I nod at the assessment. “And I think you should stay away from him.” He frowns, his tone growing a little more commanding. When I look at him, he says, “I mean, just a suggestion.” “Let's move on to the question of why you’re here after you practically told me to leave you alone." "Let's, uh, talk about it while sitting down. If you don't mind?" <<button[[Continue|sat_nialltable]]>><</button>>

Niall raises his hands in defense. “I’m sorry, it was a stupid joke.” “It was,” I say and cross my arms. “But no, I don’t know the man.” Niall frowns at my words. He looks at the direction where he went, but he’s already gone. “Something seemed off about him,” he says in a quiet tone. “Or is it just me?” “Definitely not just you,” I say. “He looked like someone important.” I nod at the assessment. “And I think you should stay away from him.” He frowns, his tone growing a little more commanding. When I look at him, he says, “I mean, just a suggestion.” “Let's move on to the question of why you’re here after you practically told me to leave you alone." "Let's, uh, talk about it while sitting down. If you don't mind?" <<button[[Continue|sat_nialltable]]>><</button>>

Niall lets out an awkward laugh. “I don’t think that he was husband material.” “I beg to differ. I would love to wake up with my neck broken after our wedding night.” Niall frowns. “That’s not funny. He really looked like he would–” “I’m not marrying him, Niall, if that is what you fear.” “I mean, no, but… Uh, yes. Let’s move on.” “Yes, let’s move on to the question of why you’re here after you practically told me to leave you alone.” "Let's, uh, talk about it while sitting down. If you don't mind?" <<button[[Continue|sat_nialltable]]>><</button>>

My tone is as dry as my mouth is. I need a drink. “I, uh…” He lets out an awkward laugh. “It was just a joke.” I nod. "Did you, uh... Know that man?" "No." Niall frowns at my curt words. He looks at the direction where he went, but he’s already gone. “Something seemed off about him,” he says in a quiet tone. “Or is it just me?” “Not just you,” I say. “He looked like someone important.” I nod at the assessment. “And I think you should stay away from him.” He frowns, his tone growing a little more commanding. When I look at him, he says, “I mean, just a suggestion.” “Let's move on to the question of why you’re here after you practically told me to leave you alone." "Let's, uh, talk about it while sitting down. If you don't mind?" <<button[[Continue|sat_nialltable]]>><</button>>

“Don’t you look handsome today, dear.” Then, there’s a slight frown on her forehead when she realizes what I’m wearing. “Are you the German fellow who…? Teutoburg?” “Yes.” She sighs heavily. “Why would you– Here?” She looks at the Roman soldiers around us. “Just a little joke.” “Your little jokes could get you killed one of these days.” “We’ll see what happens.” A flash of irritation, perhaps even anger, flares in her eyes. Then, she sighs with a small smile on her face still. “I am not your mother. Do what you will.” [[''My mother would be thrilled to see how I'm dressed.''|sat_thrilledmother]] [[''Of course you're not my mother. Don't say things like that.''|sat_notmother]]

I don’t know why I’m so defensive about this. “She would?” She starts saying something, but finally decides against it. Instead, she settles for, “I see.” I’m not sure if my mother would approve of my outfit. She might call it reckless and reprimand me for not being done with my quest already. \<<if $determined is true>> I'm trying my best. //your best isn't good enough// \<<else>> And she would call me an even bigger of a fool since I don’t believe in the ‘quest’. <</if>>\ Something about my face makes Tinsae’s tenseness melt from her own. She says, “I didn’t mean to–” “I know. Let’s just change the subject.” Sudddenly, she places her hand on my cheek. Her touch is gentle and light. “I’m sorry,” she says. “I didn’t want to make you think anything you didn’t want to. I just don’t want you to be in danger.” “I can’t really help it,” I say, almost forgetting that I am, indeed, wearing the outfit of the enemy. I am rubbing the Romans’ loss in their faces, waiting for a reaction. Tinsae sighs, yet still holds my cheek with her soft hand. “I’m sorry, darling, but you are a bit of a fool.” “I hear that sometimes.” She laughs lightly, her thumb caressing my skin. I look at her as she holds me with her tender gaze. <<button[["Be careful," I say. "I might get ideas."|sat_ideastinsae]]>><</button>> <<button[[I just stare at her, unsure what to say.|sat_staretinsae]]>><</button>> <<button[[Retreat from her touch.|sat_retreattinsae]]>><</button>>

I really don’t want to think about her right now. She would call me a fool for taking my time with the quest. \<<if $determined is true>> I'm trying my best. //your best isn't good enough// \<<else>> And she would call me an even bigger of a fool since I don’t believe in the ‘quest’. <</if>>\ Something about my face makes Tinsae’s tenseness melt from her own. She says, “I didn’t mean to–” “I know. Let’s just change the subject.” Sudddenly, she places her hand on my cheek. Her touch is gentle and light. “I’m sorry,” she says. “I didn’t want to make you think anything you didn’t want to. I just don’t want you to be in danger.” “I can’t really help it,” I say, almost forgetting that I am, indeed, wearing the outfit of the enemy. I am rubbing the Romans’ loss in their faces, waiting for a reaction. Tinsae sighs, yet still holds my cheek with her soft hand. “I’m sorry, darling, but you are a bit of a fool.” “I hear that sometimes.” She laughs lightly, her thumb caressing my skin. I look at her as she holds me with her tender gaze. <<button[["Be careful," I say. "I might get ideas."|sat_ideastinsae]]>><</button>> <<button[[I just stare at her, unsure what to say.|sat_staretinsae]]>><</button>> <<button[[Retreat from her touch.|sat_retreattinsae]]>><</button>>

“I’m interesting because I’m friends with your son?” “No, not just that. I must admit, that was the initial reason I wanted to get to know you. Him and I… Well. We don’t get along that well. You must’ve seen it, or maybe he told you.” There’s a strained smile on his face. “Something about my late wife, his mother. I’m not sure, I didn’t really follow his logic when he was shouting at me.” “My Lord, if you don’t mind me asking… What happened to his mother? To your wife?” He takes a drink. “Childbirth happened.” Why would Marcus be bitter at him because of that? However, he doesn’t seem too keen on elaborating further. And I’m not sure if I want to pry. “Well, let bygones be bygones. She was a good woman. A good wife, and a good mother. Now, I have that maniac of a– I mean,” he says with a cough. “One shouldn’t live in the past too much.” “My Lord… Did you just call your wife a maniac?” \<<if (($camilla_bath is true) or ($tinsae_bath is true))>> “She attacked you, didn’t she?” he says with a frown. His meaningful stare makes me flinch. I didn’t realize he knew about that. However, it doesn’t seem that he holds the incident against me. If anything, he seems angry at Camilla. He continues, “It wasn’t even a first incident with her. She’s a…” He sighs. “A handful.” \<<else>> He waves my questions off like an annoying fly. “If you’ve seen her, you know what I’m talking about.” <</if>>\ “My Lord,” I say. “Can I ask?” “Of course.” “Why did you marry her then?” He seems a little taken aback by the question. Then, he lets out a laugh that could almost be charming if it didn’t come from him. Hearing it makes it easy to imagine how he looked when he was younger. “Boy, do you have the balls to ask such a question. That’s why I like you.” He lets out another laugh, almost embarrassed, definitely self-conscious. “I married her because she needed help. I can’t say no to a thing like her, even if she wants to kill me in my sleep. Besides, she was more subdued when she appeared on my doorstep.” Pity marriage? Interesting. Most definitely not born out of love. And it seems it hasn’t developed there, either. He frowns at the memory, and most probably at his current situation. Then, he smiles. “Nevermind that, let’s not talk about the women in my life, dead or otherwise.” He focuses his gaze on me. “I want to talk about you.” <<button[["Me, my Lord? I'm nobody." I give him a coy smile.|sat_coylegate]]>><</button>> <<button[["Of course, my Lord. What do you wish to know?" I smile sweetly.|sat_sweetlegate]]>><</button>> <<button[["What do you want to know?" I ask neutrally.|sat_neutrallegate]]>><</button>>

He scoffs playfully. “Don’t be like that! You are somebody. You must be, my son wouldn’t like you if you weren’t.” ‘Like’ is a strong word. I’m not even sure how to respond to that. “So?” He probes me with an encouraging smile. “Tell me of your father. Of your background.” \<<if $fire is true>> What was my backstory again? Did I even have one? “A son of a priest,” I say with a confident smile. The best lies have some truth in it. He gasps in surprise. “Truly? What are you doing in the army? Did your father disown you?” “Oh, right, yes, he definitely did. I just really wanted to join the army and serve the Empire. I just //really// want to serve the Empire.” I look at him boldy in his eyes as I spout nonsense. \<<elseif $water is true>> What was my backstory again? Did I even have one? By the Twins, what am I doing? “A son of a… priest.” Yes. I smile sweetly to hide the confusion. He gasps in surprise. “Truly? What are you doing in the army? Did your father disown you?” “Yes, he did.” “What did you do to earn such a fate?” “I… Left. To the army. Because I wanted to serve the Empire.” Yes, I’m a patriot, through and through. \<<elseif (($air is true) or ($earth is true))>> “I’m a son of a priest,” I say, quickly coming up with a believable lie. Then, I realize that I would’ve probably continued my father’s profession. “But, I always wanted to serve the Empire, so I left home and never returned.” <</if>>\ He nods in complete understanding. “That is admirable of you, my boy. Absolutely. To serve the Empire is the greatest honor a man could have.” He ponders on my words. “It is even more important than to serve thy father. You made a difficult and admirable decision.” <<button[[Continue|sat_legatelie]]>><</button>>

He gives me a surprised smile of his own. He seems pleased by my demeanor, and with a small cough, he continues, “Tell me of your father. Of your background.” \<<if $fire is true>> What was my backstory again? Did I even have one? “A son of a priest,” I say with a confident smile. The best lies have some truth in it. He gasps in surprise. “Truly? What are you doing in the army? Did your father disown you?” “Oh, right, yes, he definitely did. I just really wanted to join the army and serve the Empire. I just //really// want to serve the Empire.” I look at him boldy in his eyes as I spout nonsense. \<<elseif $water is true>> What was my backstory again? Did I even have one? By the Twins, what am I doing? “A son of a… priest.” Yes. I smile sweetly to hide the confusion. He gasps in surprise. “Truly? What are you doing in the army? Did your father disown you?” “Yes, he did.” “What did you do to earn such a fate?” “I… Left. To the army. Because I wanted to serve the Empire.” Yes, I’m a patriot, through and through. \<<elseif (($air is true) or ($earth is true))>> “I’m a son of a priest,” I say, quickly coming up with a believable lie. Then, I realize that I would’ve probably continued my father’s profession. “But, I always wanted to serve the Empire, so I left home and never returned.” <</if>>\ He nods in complete understanding. “That is admirable of you, my boy. Absolutely. To serve the Empire is the greatest honor a man could have.” He ponders on my words. “It is even more important than to serve thy father. You made a difficult and admirable decision.” <<button[[Continue|sat_legatelie]]>><</button>>

Yes, I’m in the process of seducing the fool. However, I can barely keep up with the facade of acting to like him. I’m already over it. This will have to do. He, however, doesn’t seem to mind my aloof question. “So?” He probes me with an encouraging smile. “Tell me of your father. Of your background.” \<<if $fire is true>> What was my backstory again? Did I even have one? “A son of a priest,” I say with a confident smile. The best lies have some truth in it. He gasps in surprise. “Truly? What are you doing in the army? Did your father disown you?” “Oh, right, yes, he definitely did. I just really wanted to join the army and serve the Empire. I just //really// want to serve the Empire.” I look at him boldy in his eyes as I spout nonsense. \<<elseif $water is true>> What was my backstory again? Did I even have one? By the Twins, what am I doing? “A son of a… priest.” Yes. I smile sweetly to hide the confusion. He gasps in surprise. “Truly? What are you doing in the army? Did your father disown you?” “Yes, he did.” “What did you do to earn such a fate?” “I… Left. To the army. Because I wanted to serve the Empire.” Yes, I’m a patriot, through and through. \<<elseif (($air is true) or ($earth is true))>> “I’m a son of a priest,” I say, quickly coming up with a believable lie. Then, I realize that I would’ve probably continued my father’s profession. “But, I always wanted to serve the Empire, so I left home and never returned.” <</if>>\ He nods in complete understanding. “That is admirable of you, my boy. Absolutely. To serve the Empire is the greatest honor a man could have.” He ponders on my words. “It is even more important than to serve thy father. You made a difficult and admirable decision.” <<button[[Continue|sat_legatelie]]>><</button>>

He seems pleased with my lie. And, he seems to believe it fully. “How did you meet my son?” he asks. “It’s a long story, my Lord. But one could say that it was an eventful night, one that I will never forget.” \<<if $fire is true>> I almost laugh at the lie. Instead of laughing – that might seem a little too suspicious – I smile so widely it almost hurts. This whole situation is hilarious. \<<elseif $earth is true>> I look at him with an expressionless face. Then, I realize that I should probably smile at the memory of us meeting in this imaginary scenario. I smile. I wonder if it seems a little forced. \<<elseif $air is true>> I give him a neutral smile. It’s always been easy to lie. It comes to me as easily as breathing. \<<elseif $water is true>> I smile at him sweetly. It’s easy to latch on to the truth in the lie, because I certainly won’t ever forget that day. It makes my smile a little too bitter. <</if>>\ “Are you and–” He starts to ask, but then seems to think better of it. Instead, he smiles. “We can talk about that later. Let us drink for a while before he comes back.” So, we drink. \<<if $teetotaller is true>> I sip on my grape juice and listen to him talk about life in Rome. \<<else>> I sip on my wine and listen to him talk about life in Rome. <</if>> \<<if $fire is true>> I stifle a yawn that’s threatening to take over. Instead, I smile and nod a little too eagerly. \<<elseif $earth is true>> A fake smile is glued to my face. It starts to feel ridiculous. I can’t keep it up for too long. \<<elseif $air is true>> I stare at him with an eternal smile on my face, but don’t really see him. My mind is elsewhere. \<<elseif $water is true>> It’s growing increasingly difficult to keep smiling. It hurts my cheeks a little. <</if>>\ I should probably do what I’m here to do. “My Lord,” I say. He perks up, probably because he started to grow a little bored of his own voice, too. Doubtful. <<button[[It's time to be bold.|sat_boldlegate]]>><</button>> <<button[[It's time to act coy.|sat_coylegate1]]>><</button>> <<button[[It's time to get straight to the point.|sat_tothepoint]]>><</button>>

He has some nerve if he thinks he can– “Will you shut up about that for once?” “How dare–” “$name,” he says. His voice is low and rumbling. \<<if $height is "short">> He bends down to look me in the eyes. \<<else>> He looks me in the eyes. <</if>>\ “Stay away from that man,” he repeats himself. The frown on his face betrays… Worry? Naturally, I noticed that the man was trouble, but why would Marcus take this so seriously? It’s not like the man was about to cut my head off at the spot. <<button[[''Just for that, I will go look for him.''|sat_lookforemperor]]>><</button>> <<button[[''Fine. Are you happy now?''|sat_finehappy?marcus]]>><</button>>

With a small frown I look after the stranger. “Do you know him?” “No,” he says. He gives me a glance. He knows that won’t be enough to sate my curiosity. With a tired sigh, he explains, “He has power, yet I don’t know who he is and why he’s here. He has the stance of a man who’s killed before. So…” He looks me in the eyes. “Stay away from him.” “I will. I’m not a fool.” He sighs in clear relief. “Good.” <<button[[Continue|sat_legate]]>><</button>>

Marcus groans loudly at my words and rubs his face. “By the gods, you’re a moron.” “I just don’t take orders from morons.” “Fine, go and get yourself killed for all I care.” “Fine!” <<button[[Continue|sat_legate]]>><</button>>

“Rarely,” he says. “But…” With a frustrated sigh, he looks back at the direction where the stranger went. “I feel a little better.” “Do you know him?” “No,” he says. He gives me a glance. He knows that won’t be enough to sate my curiosity. With a tired sigh, he explains, “He has power, yet I don’t know who he is and why he’s here. He has the stance of a man who’s killed before. So…” He looks me in the eyes. “Stay away from him.” “I will. I’m not a fool.” He scoffs. “Could’ve fooled me.” “Hey!” <<button[[Continue|sat_legate]]>><</button>>

Marcus sits peacefully in the same spot I left him in. He gives me a slightly surprised grin when he sees me. “Niall didn’t come?” With a sigh, I sit down. “You were wrong.” “I’m never wrong,” he says. “He’s just biding his time in some dark corner somewhere.” “Or, he’s dancing with other people, happily forgetting me.” Marcus gives me a long, pondering look. Finally, he says, “Give him time, he’s an idiot.” “Takes one to know one,” I say, sipping my drink. Why am I actively choosing to spend time with these two fools? Am I the fool? Marcus doesn’t return the insult. Instead, he gives me a small chuckle. <<button[[Continue|sat_marcusensues]]>><</button>>

\<<if (($determined is true) or ($marcus_killer is true))>> Besides, I’m not here to enjoy the party. I should try to work on my non-existent plans. I don’t even know what I’m doing. If I’m about to leave soon, anyway, why do I even bother to plan anything? It would just jeopardize my departure with what family I have left. With a sigh, I take another sip of my drink. Marcus gives me a small grin at the sound of my sigh. “You can leave if you want to.” “No, it’s not that,” I say, looking at my drink. “I’m just unsure what will happen later.” And it makes me anxious. The grin on his face shifts, transforming into a small smile. “I understand.” And it seems like he does. I’m not sure if I like it that he understands me, that he seems to understand what I imply. \<<else>> At least this will take my mind off me leaving. Watching these people twists a knot in my stomach. I want to leave. Yet, I’ve grown accustomed to this life, somehow. “Your face looks a little sour,” Marcus says helpfully. “Thank you for noticing,” I say. “You can join the others if you want.” “It’s not that. I’m just… In thought.” “I understand,” he says with a small smile. He focuses his attention back to the chattering people. <</if>> <<button[[Continue|sat_marcuspeoplewatching]]>><</button>>

“Why are you like this?” I mope. “Why don’t you want to dance, why don’t you want to feast?” He scoffs with a laugh. “You can do whatever you like.” I could, but for some reason I expect him to do those things with me. “Are you really going to just sit there and drink? The whole evening?” “Yes,” he says with a content smile on his face. “No one is going to bother me tonight (except for you) and I get to drink in peace.” “You could do that at home.” “Hati, if my boring self bothers you, you have my permission to go and do something with someone else. I’m sure Tinsae would make time for you if you asked.” \<<if (($determined is true) or ($marcus_killer is true))>> I could just leave. However, I’m not sure if I’m here to have fun. If I should still think about what I’m going to do with my nonexistent plans. I don’t even know what I’m doing. If I’m about to leave soon, anyway, why do I even bother to plan anything? It would just jeopardize my departure with what family I have left. So, with a heavy sigh, I sit down next to the fool. \<<else>> ‘But I don’t want to spend time with Tinsae,’ I almost say, but I’m not sure if I want to explore that thought further. Because that would imply that I want to spend time with him, instead. So, I sigh heavily and sit down next to the fool. <</if>>\ He pats me on my shoulder. I flinch at his touch, but the deed doesn’t seem as atrocious as it has felt before. Still, I give him a slight frown for daring to touch me so freely. He gives me a carefree grin in return. “People-watch with me,” he says. <<button[[Continue|sat_marcuspeoplewatching]]>><</button>>

“Are you really going to just sit there and drink? The whole evening?” I’m not sure if I want to do anything else, either, but still. “Yes,” he says with a content smile on his face. “No one is going to bother me tonight (except for you) and I get to drink in peace.” “You could do that at home.” “Hati, if my boring self bothers you, you have my permission to go and do something with someone else. I’m sure Tinsae would make time for you if you asked.” \<<if (($determined is true) or ($marcus_killer is true))>> I could just leave. However, I’m not sure if I’m here to have fun. If I should still think about what I’m going to do with my nonexistent plans. I don’t even know what I’m doing. If I’m about to leave soon, anyway, why do I even bother to plan anything? It would just jeopardize my departure with what family I have left. So, with a heavy sigh, I sit down next to the fool. \<<else>> ‘But I don’t want to spend time with Tinsae,’ I almost say, but I’m not sure if I want to explore that thought further. Because that would imply that I want to spend time with him, instead. So, I sigh heavily and sit down next to the fool. <</if>>\ He pats me on my shoulder. I flinch at his touch, but the deed doesn’t seem as atrocious as it has felt before. Still, I give him a slight frown for daring to touch me so freely. He gives me a carefree grin in return. “People-watch with me,” he says. <<button[[Continue|sat_marcuspeoplewatching]]>><</button>>

“Is that Camilla?” he says with a small frown. There’s a red-headed woman lurking in the shadows. She has ditched the mask, and her eyes are squinted as she peers into the crowd. “Is she alright?” I ask. “She seems a little deranged,” he says, his tone almost worried. “More so than usual.” “Does she need help?” Just then, Tinsae starts approaching her like one would approach a wild animal. Camilla shakes her head vigorously, trying to banish her friend. Finally, Tinsae manages to take her hand and lead her to the tables. “Thank the gods for that woman,” Marcus mutters under her breath. “Tinsae always takes care of things.” “You could’ve tried to help her, too. Isn’t she your step–” “No. Look at her. She would bite my head off.” Perhaps she would. The situation seems resolved when Tinsae gets her to sit down next to her. I wonder what’s with Camilla tonight? \<<if $marcus_gift is true>> <<button[[Continue|sat_marcusgiftgive]]>><</button>> \<<else>> <<button[[Continue|sat_marcus_no_gift]]>><</button>> <</if>>\

There’s a friend group exchanging colorful linen-wrapped gifts, and it makes me realize that Marcus might expect a gift from me. Would he? Is he that kind of a fool? Better to clear the air in that regard. “I didn’t get any gift for you,” I say. “Just wanted to let you know.” He raises his brows at me. “I didn’t expect anything from you. I’m just happy your ‘gift’ isn’t a knife in my back.” \<<if (($determined is true) or ($marcus_killer is true))>> “The night is still young, perhaps you’ll get the knife.” “Can’t wait." \<<else>> “Well, you aren’t getting anything.” “Alright.” “Yes." <</if>> \<<if $lovetriangleroute is true>> <<button[[Continue|sat_marcusleaves]]>><</button>> \<<else>> <<button[[Continue|sat_marcuscontinues]]>><</button>> <</if>>

“I have a gift for you,” I say. His features brighten up. “Let me guess. Is it a knife to kill me with?” “Ugh, how predictable would that be?” “I know, it would lack a little imagination, wouldn’t it? Well, what is it then?” I give him the gift. He looks at the wrapping with a small grin on his face. “It’s so cute. Absolutely adorable. Did you wrap it up yourself?” “I did. Open it.” “It’s not a trap, is it?” “Of course not.” \<<if $psycho is true>> When I kill you, I will do it with a knife and see the light leave your eyes. I smile at the thought. He gives me a doubtful look. <</if>>\ Slowly, carefully, he opens the present. \<<if $book_marcus is true>> <<button[["A... Scroll?"|sat_marcusscroll]]>><</button>> \<<elseif $comb_marcus is true>> <<button[["A... Comb?"|sat_marcuscomb]]>><</button>> \<<elseif $pen_marcus is true>> <<button[["A... Stylus?"|sat_marcuspen]]>><</button>> <</if>>\

He opens the scroll with a small, inspecting frown on his face. “Clutorius Priscus?” he says. “I… Didn’t expect this.” “It’s a poem book.” “I know… I. Thank you?” “I think the poet died because he got on the wrong side of politics.” “I remember…” “Please make sure that happens– I mean, that it doesn’t happen to you, too.” He bursts out laughing. “I knew there was something I was missing. Thank you for this. I haven’t read his production and it’s a nice addition to my collection.” “You are quite welcome.” He looks quite pleased with the gift. \<<if $lovetriangleroute is true>> <<button[[Continue|sat_marcusleaves]]>><</button>> \<<else>> <<button[[Continue|sat_marcuscontinues]]>><</button>> <</if>>

He frowns at the present. He touches his hair in thought. His eyes widen in realization. “It was you.” “What?” “My hair’s been falling off. I thought I was just–” “Growing old? It happens, you can’t possibly blame me for it.” “You…” The frown on his face deepens. “You wouldn’t tell me if it was you.” “I really don’t know what you’re talking about.” “Hati, I swear to the gods above, if I find out it was you and I actually lose my hair–” <<button[[Fine, I'll tell him the truth.|marcus_truth_comb]]>><</button>> <<button[[No. Let the man go bald.|marcus_bald_gogo]]>><</button>>

He gives me a surprised look. Then he frowns in thought, as if trying to decipher a hidden message behind the gift. “Are you going to stab me in the neck with it?” “Quinn asked me that, too, but no. It’s just for writing.” “Just for…” He frowns, even more puzzled by the news. “You gave me a stylus to write with?” I nod. “Because I like writing?” Another nod. “I… Thank you?” “You’re welcome.” He gives me one last glance, as if he’s still not sure if he believes me. I give him a shrug in return. “I can take the pen back.” “No, no.” He hides the stylus in his hands. “The decoration is nice. It reminds me of… Well.” I nod. This is getting a little awkward. \<<if (($determined is true) or ($marcus_killer is true))>> How embarrassing for him to think that I’d give him a real gift because I’m starting to get soft on him. He’s more clueless than I thought. Or, he's a good actor. \<<else>> I don’t know why I got him an actual gift. This is almost embarrassing. We should talk about something else. <</if>> \<<if $lovetriangleroute is true>> <<button[[Continue|sat_marcusleaves]]>><</button>> \<<else>> <<button[[Continue|sat_marcuscontinues]]>><</button>> <</if>>

I sigh. I think he’s suffered enough. For now. “Were you really upset when you found out that you were losing your hair?” I ask. I need to picture it. “Of course I was.” “Can you walk me through your range of emotions? Were you scared? Ashamed?” He takes a deep breath. “I was. And if you cursed me–” “I did,” I confess. “I shouldn’t be surprised that the Twins granted me this blessing, but they did.” I smile at the thought. “Think of the things I could do.” Marcus looks at me with his gaze deeply worried. “Could you give me my hair back?” “I suppose I could. Just because I’m so nice.” “You just cursed me. That’s far from–” “I can always choose not to do it,” I say with an evil smile. He gives me a quick, understanding nod. “You are, indeed, the nicest person I’ve ever encountered.” “That’s better.” I take a sip of my drink. “I can’t ensure that the lost hair grows back, but I can prevent the rest from falling.” He sighs. “That’s… All I can ask.” With a deeper sigh, he takes a gulp of his wine. “Remind me not to piss you off.” “You do it daily.” He grimaces at the thought and briefly touches his hair. \<<if $lovetriangleroute is true>> <<button[[Continue|sat_marcusleaves]]>><</button>> \<<else>> <<button[[Continue|sat_marcuscontinues]]>><</button>> <</if>>

I can already picture his distress that will only grow when he realizes that the balding won’t stop. It’s nice to see that my curses still have potency. Twins really care for me. Maybe I will tell him the truth when all of his hair has fallen off. Maybe I’ll buy him a wig just to spite him. I smile inwardly at the thought. Marcus gives me a look that says that he doesn’t believe a word I say. However, he doesn’t have proof. Besides, he probably doesn’t actually believe that my powers are that potent. How wrong he is. “Well,” he says, looking at the comb. “Thank you for the gift.” “Of course,” I say with an innocent smile. \<<if $lovetriangleroute is true>> <<button[[Continue|sat_marcusleaves]]>><</button>> \<<else>> <<button[[Continue|sat_marcuscontinues]]>><</button>> <</if>>

“You look like shit,” someone’s voice says flatly. I turn around to see an expressionless person dressed in a toga looking at me. “Camilla?” Instead of answering, she takes a seat in front of me. She takes off her golden mask. “Niall is acting like an insolent slut.” “What?” She looks at me. ‘You heard me,’ she says without words. I did. I’m just unsure what brought this on. Her breath smells like wine as she leans toward me. “Do you want me to kill him?” My brows rise to my forehead. Her tone doesn’t imply that she’s joking. However, it’s extremely difficult to tell with her. <<button[["Killing is a bit extreme. Maybe something else?"|sat_killingisextreme]]>><</button>> <<button[["Could you kill Marcus, instead?"|sat_killmarcusmaybe?]]>><</button>> <<button[["Please don't kill anyone."|sat_nokillingplease]]>><</button>>

The silence ensues as we keep people-watching. Soon enough, however, Marcus stands up. “I need to take a piss,” he announces. Before I can comment on it, he’s already strotting away. Well, might as well take a breather from his vicinity. I was getting a little too comfortable with his presence, anyway. I wonder if there’s anyone else I could talk to. <<button[[There's a man I don't recognize.|sat_emperor]]>><</button>>

The silence ensues as we keep people-watching. Soon enough, however, Marcus stands up. “I need to take a piss,” he announces. Before I can comment on it, he’s already strotting away. Well, might as well take a breather from his vicinity. I was getting a little too comfortable with his presence, anyway. <<button[[Continue|sat_camillapoisonsniall]]>><</button>>

She nods. “I knew you didn’t have it in you.” Before I can answer, she says, “I already poisoned his wine.” “You did what?” She shoots me a feline grin. With that, she disappears into the crowd. She poisoned his wine? With what? A part of me is sure that the poison isn’t lethal. Camilla wouldn’t just kill Niall like that. She isn’t that deranged. Right? There was something off about her tonight, though. That look in her eyes makes me doubt my conviction. <<button[["Darling, is the party treating you well?"|sat_tinsaetotherescue]]>><</button>>

Sure, Niall is acting like a fool, but if I had to pick between the two of them… She nods slowly. “Both?” I ponder on the matter. At least Niall wouldn’t have to be left behind and cry over the fool. Camilla looks at me expectantly, as if she was ready to leave at a moment’s notice and murder the men in question. “Sure, kill both of them,” I say. At least the night will prove more eventful if they’re found dead in the storage room. Camilla gives me a small smile. At least, I think it was a smile. It could’ve also been a grimace. No, it’s definitely a grin. So, she’s either joking or really excited to go on a killing spree. Either way, I will just have to see what comes of this. “You surprise me,” she says, her words oozing of approval. “Good thing that I already poisoned Niall’s wine. I thought you wouldn’t approve.” “You poisoned it? With what?” She shoots me another feline grin. “See you around.” With that, she disappears into the crowd. She poisoned his wine? With what? A part of me is sure that the poison isn’t lethal. Camilla wouldn’t just kill Niall like that. She isn’t that deranged. Right? There was something off about her tonight, though. That look in her eyes makes me doubt my conviction. <<button[["Darling, is the party treating you well?"|sat_tinsaetotherescue]]>><</button>>

It should be enough that I have to worry about Quinn going on a killing spree. Now her, too? I let out a deep, weary sigh. She gives me a deadpan look. “Why not?” “Because you shouldn’t kill people, Camilla. Even if they’re idiots.” “That’s precisely why they should die.” There’s a small grin on her lips. This seems to be her idea of a joke. At least she seems invested in my wellbeing, in her own way. “No matter,” she says. “I already poisoned his wine.” “You–” She shoots me a feline grin. “See you around.” With that, she disappears into the crowd. She poisoned his wine? With what? A part of me is sure that the poison isn’t lethal. Camilla wouldn’t just kill Niall like that. She isn’t that deranged. Right? There was something off about her tonight, though. That look in her eyes makes me doubt my conviction. <<button[["Darling, is the party treating you well?"|sat_tinsaetotherescue]]>><</button>>

A familiar voice makes me look up. Tinsae smiles at me like the sun itself. Rays of sunshine out of the golden crown she’s wearing. Thank the Twins that she’s here. “I just learned that–” “I know the poison she uses,” she says, as if she was talking about the weather. “You know–” “I have the antidote. Do with that what you will.” She hands me a small vial. For Niall? I certainly didn’t expect a rescue mission. “I’ll be here for a while longer if you need me,” she says. “Io Saturnalia, dear.” With that, she slowly disappears into the crowd. I look at the small vial in my hand. <<button[[I need to save him.|sat_saveniall]]>><</button>> <<button[[I'd rather not save him. At least immediately.|sat_nah]]>><</button>>

With my heart beating in my ears, I rush through the crowd to find the man who explicitly told me to leave him alone. But he shouldn’t die for that. I don’t even know if the poison is lethal, but I won’t take any chances. You can’t really tell with Camilla. She seemed even more deranged than usual. I should’ve asked Tinsae if the poison would kill him. I scan the room, expecting him to dance in the crowd like he did before. But he’s nowhere to be found. Then, just when I’m about to lose my faith, I spot him sitting in the corner of the tavern with a goblet of wine. He looks absolutely miserable, but I doubt it’s caused by what happened between us. The look on his face is pure pain. “Niall!” He grimaces at the sound of my voice. “Camilla really poisoned you,” I say. I didn’t really have time to doubt it, but I hoped it wouldn’t be true. He bends down, wheezing, holding his stomach. “She came by and–” A groan of pain interrupts him. “She smiled at me. I should’ve known.” “Quickly, drink this,” I say. “It’s the antidote.” Without another word, fully trusting in my word, he takes the vial and gulps it down in one go. He sits down with tears gathering in the corners of his eyes. “It doesn’t help,” he wheezes. “It’ll take time, just wait.” He nods, and it makes a small tear fall down his cheek. <<button[[Give him comfort.|sat_niallcomfort]]>><</button>> <<button[[Wait in silence.|sat_niallwait]]>><</button>>

I look at the vial in my hand. He did tell me to stay away from him. A small grin stretches my lips. Maybe he’ll try to find me after he’s struck with the pain that’s about to hit him. I’ll wait. I don’t have to wait for long, for the crowd starts to chatter in distress. Concerned questions litter the air as the crowd makes way for something. Someone. Niall, being held by two young men, tries to make his way out of the party. His face is of pain, he holds his stomach and groans. <<button[[Ignore him and his pain.|sat_niallignore]]>><</button>> <<button[[Wave at him and smile.|sat_niallsmilewave]]>><</button>> <<button[[The sight makes me feel a little bad...|sat_niallfeelbad]]>><</button>>

Despite what he said, a part of me wants to comfort him in his time of need. With a sigh, I say, “You need to lie down.” “But the floor is dirty,” he says in the smallest of voices. I lay a cloak on the floor and beckon him to sit down with me. Without another word, he slumps next to me and puts his head on my lap. He whimpers like a little dog in pain. With a resigned sigh, I start caressing his hair. It’s less messier than usual, braided and beautiful. His hair smells like lavender. “I’m still mad at you,” I say. “I know,” he whispers. “I try to be better.” I wonder if it even matters? I'll be gone soon, anyway. As I caress his hair, I start humming a song my father used to sing to me when I was ill. It’s a tale about a little bear who got lost in the woods. Birds guided him back home. He smiles at the sound of my voice. With his eyes closed, he seems to lose all signs of the pain that had a grip on him just moments before. The antidote worked. That’s good. When I stop caressing his hair and stop humming, he gives me a small, disappointed frown. “You already feel better,” I say. “Yes,” he admits. “But I was enjoying myself.” I let out an amused scoff. “Get up, you.” <<button[[Continue|sat_whathappenedniall]]>><</button>>

He just told me to stay away from him. Despite his apparent pain, I can’t make myself approach him and give him comfort. So, I wait. I stay close to him, but won’t touch him. I stay with Niall as his mind begins to clear and his body sweats the poison away. His naked chest glistens with cold sweat. Still, he groans, but his gaze is focused. <<button[[Continue|sat_whathappenedniall]]>><</button>>

I let him stew in his juices for a while longer. I’m sure the antidote will work after a while of waiting. Besides, the poison doesn’t seem lethal. There is undoubtebly something wrong with Camilla, but I don’t think she’d kill her stepson in the middle of a Saturnalia party. Niall’s groans of pain force my attention back at him. He does seem to be in quite the pain. I squeeze the vial in my hand. Fine. <<button[[Continue|sat_reluctanthelp]]>><</button>>

A small giggle leaves my lips as I give him a little wave. However, it seems that he’s in such a state that he can’t even see me. That’s too bad. I squeeze the vial in my hand. Fine. <<button[[Continue|sat_reluctanthelp]]>><</button>>

I wonder if it’s too late? I purse my lips and look at the vial. Perhaps I should. I squeeze the vial in my hand. Fine. <<button[[Continue|sat_reluctanthelp]]>><</button>>

The men who are carrying him give me a hesitant look when I walk up to them. I shoot them a tired glare and they quickly leave their Tribune groaning on the ground. He looks at me with feverish eyes. A groan leaves his lips. “$name?,” he asks, his tone pained and hopeful, as if I was his lifeline. “You should drink this,” I say. Without another word, fully trusting my word, he takes the vial and gulps it down in one go. He lies down on the dirty floor with tears falling down his cheeks. “It still hurts,” he wheezes. “It’ll take time, just wait.” Especially since I waited to give him the remedy. He trusts my word, or maybe he’s too delirious to begin to doubt me. \<<if $build is "muscular">> I take a breath and lift the delirious man off the ground. “What are you–” he starts asking with a displeased tone, but I interrupt him. “Just shut up and let me take care of you.” He lets out another displeased and pained grumble, but he’s in no state to fight me. I carry him away from the crowd like a sack of beetroots. \<<else>> “You,” I say with a stern voice at the two men who stayed behind to observe the situation. “Help me move him.” And, without a protest, they do. I lead them away from the crowd. <</if>>\ When he’s back on the floor, he whimpers, “The floor is so dirty. My clothes…” \<<if $hobby_fashion is true>> Fully understanding his plight, I move him so I can slip a cloak beneath his firm buttocks and his pure white loincloth. \<<else>> “Who cares about–” I’m about to say, but when he gives me a pleading look, I sigh in frustration. I slip a cloak underneath his firm buttocks and the pure white loincloth he’s so eager to protect. This is why you shouldn’t wear white. <</if>> <<button[[Continue|sat_reluctantniallhelp]]>><</button>>

When that’s out of the way, it’s time to wait for the antidote to work its magic. Niall seems like he’s in and out of consciousness, groaning in pain. The poison was far more potent than I anticipated. Camilla has officially lost her mind. Who knows what would’ve happened to Niall if Tinsae wasn’t there with the antidote? \<<if $herbalist is true>> I just hope that his innards didn’t take any damage from the poison. “Do you have a tingling sensation?” I ask, hoping the poison wasn’t aconite. “I don’t think so,” he says. That’s good. <</if>> Niall whimpers like a hungry puppy who lost his mother. He complains that his stomach aches. <<button[[He can bear it.|sat_bearwithitniall]]>><</button>> <<button[[Fine. I'll comfort him.|sat_comfortniall]]>><</button>>

He’s a grown man, he can bear a little pain. He’s not the only one who’s suffered. Mother would’ve done the same. The antidote will work soon. I stay with Niall as his mind begins to clear and his body sweats the poison away. His naked chest glistens with cold sweat. Still, he groans, but his gaze is focused. <<button[[Continue|sat_whathappenedniall]]>><</button>>

With a resigned sigh, I move his head on my lap. He lets out another groan of pain, but accepts his fate. What else could he do in this state? Slowly, absentmindedly, I start caressing his hair. It’s less messier than usual, braided and beautiful. His hair smells like lavender. Without a thought, I start humming a song my father used to sing to me when I was ill. It’s a tale about a little bear who got lost in the woods. Birds guided him back home. He smiles at the sound of my voice. Through pain, he smiles. And, little by little, the pain in his features subside, and he opens his eyes. His gaze is focused as he looks at me. “Your voice is beautiful,” he says. “You’re delirious,” I answer. “Yes,” he admits. "A little." <<button[[Continue|sat_whathappenedniall]]>><</button>>

“What happened?” he asks with his words a little slurred still. “Camilla poisoned you,” I say. There’s no mincing words with that. “She… What?” Still feeling the aftereffects of the poison, he takes a shaky breath and closes his eyes. “Why would she–” He frowns at something, probably a memory that popped into his head. “She said that I shouldn’t act like an insolent whore and I should mind myself with you,” he says as he gives me a quick, ashamed glance. “But I didn’t think she’d actually try to murder me for it.” “I don’t think she tried to murder you.” I’m not sure. The symptoms seemed serious enough, though. He gives me a doubtful look. “So, she gave you the antidote?” “Tinsae did. She gave me the option to give it to you.” “The option? Why didn’t she just–” He takes a deep, shaky breath. “You know what? I don’t care. No, I do care. How could I not? But the most important thing is that you saved me. I…” A heavy pause. “I… Thank you.” <<button[["Of course." I give him a small smile.|sat_smallsmileniall]]>><</button>> <<button[["Are you going to go and dance with your girls now?"|sat_danceiwithothers?]]>><</button>> <<button[[Remain silent.|sat_niallsilent1]]>><</button>>

“Do you think there’s something between us?” I give him a bold smile. “Something?” He seems intrigued. He gives me a slow nod. “I have felt a spark, of sorts. But I fear that–” I stop his sentence with my hand. “My Lord, if I may say, you don’t have to worry about that. You don’t have to worry about anything.” “I don’t?” He sighs in relief. He wants to believe that. His shoulders relax a little more at my words. Was he afraid that Marcus and I were as close as he suspected? I need to put his fears at rest. Leaning towards him, I give him a sultry and confident smile. “Let me take care of you, my Lord.” I put my hand on his thigh and smile at the way his muscles tense against my palm. He gives me a smile that almost crosses the line of confidence, but it seems he’s not as used to flings as his position would let on. In another world, that would almost be adorable of him. And I suppose that makes me special in his eyes. How quaint. Looking at my hand, he gives me a small nod, eager and willing. “I… I will.” “Follow my lead, my Lord,” I say with a soothing smile. He wants to be led and taken care of. <<button[[Continue|sat_legateupstairs]]>><</button>>

“Are you interested in getting a blowjob from me?” I ask. Wine goes through his wrong hole and he starts coughing uncontrollably. “By the gods, Hati, you can’t just ask–” “Are you?” I’m tired of games, let’s just get this over with. He frowns in both confusion and intrigue, leans back a little, still frowning lightly, and says, “Yes?” I nod. “Good. Follow me, my Lord.” <<button[[Continue|sat_legateupstairs]]>><</button>>

I raise my shoulder just a little, so it’s not too obvious. I smile sligthly at the attention he’s giving me. I bite my lip just enough to make my point clear, just enough for him to see it. He clears his throat. “I, uh… I know that you and my son are–” “Oh, no, my Lord,” I say quickly. “We are just good friends. It’s you I’ve had my eye on,” I say in a low voice, hoping it sounds suitably sultry. “Really?” he asks, sounding properly confused and surprised. When he seems to realize it, he clears his throat. “I mean, I’ve suspected it. And I’m not surprised.” He gives me a smile that almost crosses the line of confidence, but it seems he’s not as used to flings as his position would let on. In another world, that would almost be adorable of him. And I suppose that makes me special in his eyes. How quaint. My thoughts are interrupted by his hand on my thigh. By reflex, I almost strike him right across his face. Just in time, I manage to calm myself and give him a small, coy smile instead. He doesn’t seem too taken aback by my inner battles, and it’s not surprising that a man like him wouldn’t excel at social intelligence. Better for me. “Lead the way, my Lord.” I smile. <<button[[Continue|sat_legateupstairs]]>><</button>>

There are private rooms upstairs, perfect for something like this. But, before I proceed with the plan, I leave something for Marcus to be able to find us when he gets back. \<<if $arminius is true>> I leave my helmet as a lure for Marcus, hoping no one will find it too appealing to take it for themselves. Legate chuckles at the sight of my helmet. “You know, I think that’s funny.” “I’m happy to hear someone understood the joke, my Lord.” “It’s even more humorous since we’re in Germania where it all happened.” In fact, he seems unsure if he understood the joke. “That makes it utterly hilarious.” I grin at him. \<<elseif $hercules is true>> I leave my lion fur on the stairs as a lure for the fool. When I feel eyes on me, I turn to the Legate who’s trying to take a peek beneath my loincloth. Playfully, I frown. Inwardly, I try not to hit him. “Apologies,” he says with a small smile. \<<elseif $cleopatra is true>> I tie my head piece as a decoration, as a lure, on the stairs, hoping no one will find it too appealing to take it for themselves. “You look like a proper goddess in that outfit,” Legate says with lust lurking in his words. He tries to grab my ass, but I evade him with a playful laugh. He laughs with me. He thinks I’m being coy. I should gut him for that. \<<elseif $wolfmonster is true>> I tie my skull mask as a decoration on the stairs. In truth, it’s the lure for the fool. “I must say, that outfit of yours makes you look properly terrifying,” Legate says. I grin with teeth at his words. “Good.” \<<elseif $mouse is true>> I tie my furry ears as a lure for the fool. Legate chuckles. “I almost hoped you would keep them on.” I smile at the fool’s father and continue making my way upstairs. <</if>> I lead the entourage of him and his bodyguards through the stairs. When we find an empty room, Legate nods at his bodyguards. They will, obviously, stay outside. Something tells me Marcus should be here any moment now. I hope it’s the Twins telling me so, and not just my foolish hope. In any case, Marcus will be interested to see where I’m hiding. He knows he has to keep an eye on me. Finding his way here and seeing his father’s guards at the door, he might even think that I’m in the process of murdering him. Which would be a suicide, since the guards are right in front of the door. I’m not that stupid. Legate gives me an almost shy smile. “Shall we?” he says and opens the door to the small, windowless room with a single bed. A brazier is fighting a losing battle against the cold and the darkness in the corner of the room. <<button[[I'm confident with the plan.|sat_confidentplan]]>><</button>> <<button[[I may not have thought this through.|sat_hesitantplan]]>><</button>>

This will hurt Marcus and this will ruin their already brittle relationship. I give Legate a small smile and step through the door. The bed isn’t comfortable. But I won’t be the one sitting on it. I push the Legate on the bed and he lets out a surprised laugh. “Alright, I–” “When we are in this room, my Lord,” I say and press my finger against his lips. “You will keep your mouth shut.” I give him a small smile. “Is that clear?” His wife is Camilla, he must be used to this kind of talk. Besides, I really don’t want to hear his voice when I’m doing this. And, true enough, he melts under my touch and gives me a small nod, keeping his mouth completely shut, as ordered. Good. Let’s get this over with. I put a pillow under my knees and place myself in front of him, in between his legs. Without a word, without a glance at him, I quickly take his trousers off. <<button[[Fade to black.|sat_fadetoblacklegate]]>><</button>> <<button[[There it is.|sat_legatesex]]>><</button>>

I clear my throat and look around the room. I might have to put the blame of this situation on my reckless nature. Father always said that I act before I think. “Are you having second thoughts?” Legate asks as he looks at me with a small, understanding smile on his face. Yet, there’s an underlying sense of hurry. He’s a busy man and he doesn’t have all night. “No,” I say with a frown. I’m committed to this. I’m committed to hurting these both fools. I will break their relationship and smile doing it. I step through the door with a determined frown on my face. The bed isn’t comfortable. But I won’t be the one sitting on it. I push the Legate on the bed and he lets out a surprised laugh. “Alright, I–” “When we are in this room, my Lord,” I say and press my finger against his lips. “You will keep your mouth shut.” I give him a small smile. “Is that clear?” His wife is Camilla, he must be used to this kind of talk. Besides, I really don’t want to hear his voice when I’m doing this. And, true enough, he melts under my touch and gives me a small nod, keeping his mouth completely shut, as ordered. Good. Let’s get this over with. I put a pillow under my knees and place myself in front of him, in between his legs. Without a word, without a glance at him, I quickly take his trousers off. <<button[[Fade to black.|sat_fadetoblacklegate]]>><</button>> <<button[[There it is.|sat_legatesex]]>><</button>>

"Is my father there?" A voice through the door asks. Marcus! What perfect timing. Legate gives me a panicked glance, gesturing me to be silent. He tries to put his pants back on, but I stop him. Now all I need is his... <<button[[Marcus opens the door.|sat_marcusopensthedoor]]>><</button>>

His dick, hard and ready for me. Did I expect to see the dick of the man who murdered everyone I hold dear? No. \<<if $marcus_handjob is true>> And to think that I’ve already seen two of them. The thought almost makes me cackle to myself. My life is a comedy. But it wouldn’t be proper to laugh at a man’s erection. Not yet, at least, when there’s something I need from him. \<<else>> I don’t know what to do with that thought, how to process it properly. Maybe I don’t need to do anything with it. Not yet, when there’s still something I need from him. <</if>> Time to get on with it. <<button[[Be rough.|sat_roughlegate]]>><</button>> <<button[[Be gentle.|sat_gentlelegate]]>><</button>>

He deserves the pain. He deserves it and more. All of them do, and I will deliver. I grab his erection, and he groans in both surprise and anguish. He gives me a look of uncertainty, but it’s quickly overcome by lust when I squeeze his dick once more. “Remember to keep your mouth shut, my Lord,” I say to him with a grin baring my teeth. \<<if $psycho is true>> ‘Or I will bite your dick off,’ my smile says without words. He flinches at the sight, but his dick twitches in need. <</if>>\ Satisfied by the silence and the slight horror in his eyes, I take his dick fully into my mouth. It tastes like herby soap. Neverminding the taste, I start wanking the thing furiously. I shouldn’t be too quick, however, Marcus isn’t here just yet. “By Jupiter, you’re tearing it—” I give him a glare. He closes his mouth immediately, his breath hitching. He groans when I touch his dick with my teeth to remind him who’s in charge. He might be the powerful man in his day to day life, but here, in this room, I hold all the power. And he knows it. It thrills him. His hand twitches, he wants to hold me by my head, but he’s too scared to do so. And it pleases me. He should be scared. He should fear for his life. I stroke him quickly, harshly, keenly listening to his pained moans. <<button[["Is my father there?"|sat_marcusarrives]]>><</button>>

Not because of him, I think. Hurting him physically isn’t the goal right now. What I need from him isn’t that. So, with a gentle touch, I put my hand on his thigh to let him get used to me. His thighs harden under my touch and his cock twitches, craving for attention. I look at him and give him a small smile. His pubic hair is unshaved, as is proper for a Roman man. Nothing I’m surprised by, but the hair might get in my mouth. It’s a small inconvenience, one that I realize I might focus on just to buy me more time. Alright. Just get in, get what you need, and get out. With my mind made up, I take his fully erected cock into my mouth. It tastes mildly like herby soap. “By Jupiter, I–” He tries to start in a shaky voice, but I give him an evil glare. I told him to keep his mouth shut. He’s quick to realize this, and obeys my glare. Satisfied with the silence, I begin. I give the top of his cock a careful lick. I stroke him gently, taking my time, listening to the door for the arrival of Marcus. The groans of his father makes it difficult to hear. I told him to— <<button[["Is my father there?"|sat_marcusarrives]]>><</button>>

A voice through the door asks. Marcus! What perfect timing. Legate gives me a panicked glance, gesturing me to be silent. He tries to put his pants back on, but I stop him. With a confused look on his face, he can only watch as I start pumping his dick quicker and quicker. “You need to come, my Lord,” I say with my tongue out, ready to take the load into my mouth. He flinches at the sight, looks at the door, unsure what to do with himself. But I won’t give him any option. I gobble up his dick, bury it deep into my mouth and fight against the urge to gag. I’m in a hurry. I move my tongue on his tip, forcing him to groan just so Marcus will hear it. His dick twitches and I prepare myself for his seed. I take him out of my mouth just to say, “Gaius, fill my mouth with your cum.” His eyes widen at the sound of his first name. To hear me say it is insolent, just what he needed for me to push him over the edge. He shoves his dick back in my mouth and holds my head in place as his dick pumps warmth into my mouth. He squeezes my shoulder and tries to push his dick even deeper against my throat. I have half a mind to bite his dick off to teach him manners but I settle for pushing his hand away. My mouth is filled with his hot cum as he lets out an awkward groan that he tries to hide under a fit of fake coughs. Now, I have everything I need. <<button[[Marcus opens the door.|sat_marcusopensthedoor]]>><</button>>

He looks at me. And I smile at him. Revenge tastes salty and metallic with a hint of bitterness. “Hati?” Marcus says. His voice cracks a little. Alarm and disappointment coat his words and he takes a small step back. <<button[[Show him the load in my mouth.|sat_showtheseed]]>><</button>> <<button[[His voice makes me hesitate.|sat_hesitatevoice]]>><</button>>

Just to see his reaction, I open my mouth. I stick my tongue out to let him see his father’s seed. And the look on his face is easily worth it. Disgust. Hurt. Pain. His gaze shifts back to meet mine. And I hold it. I smile and swallow the load. The exaggerated sound of the gulp makes him flinch. He tries to speak. Perhaps to ask what’s wrong with me, perhaps an insult would leave his horrified lips. But nothing comes out. Absolutely nothing. He just looks at me. Finally, he gives me a curt nod. And he leaves. Legate is left looking after his son. Silence hangs between us as he ponders on his next words. Finally, when utters them out, they’re curt and filled with regret, “This was a mistake.” No. That's where you're long, dear Legate. This is just the beginning. I will break that man. Both of you.

The look on his face makes me pause and I silently swallow the cum. He sees it. He sees me swallowing. Disgust. Hurt. Pain. That and more. It’s all there on his face. His gaze shifts back from my throat to meet mine. And I hold it. I want to say something. A part of me wants to say I’m sorry, another part wants to gloat and make him hurt more. He tries to speak. Perhaps to ask what’s wrong with me, perhaps an insult would leave him. But nothing comes out. Absolutely nothing. Instead, he gives me a curt nod. And he leaves. Legate looks after his son. Silence hangs between us as he ponders on his next words. Finally, when utters them out, they’re curt and filled with regret, “This was a mistake.” I find myself nodding along. Yes. Perhaps it was.

It takes a lot more than an intense look to scare me. I give her a confident smirk and continue dancing. She doesn’t return the smile. Instead, she looks at me straight into my eyes. And I return the gaze as I shake my hips to the rhythm of the drums. Heat creeps to my cheeks, caused by both the physical strain and her heated gaze. Suddenly, she gets up and walks up to me. \<<if (($height is "tall") and ($wolfmonster is true))>> She takes me by my fur and forces me to bend down. \<<elseif (($height is "tall") and ($cleopatra is true))>> She takes me by my neckpiece and forces me to bend down. \<<elseif (($height is "tall") and ($mouse is true))>> She takes me by my fur and forces me to bend down. \<<elseif (($height is "tall") and ($hercules is true))>> She takes me by my lion fur and forces me to bend down. \<<elseif (($height is "tall") and ($arminius is true))>> She takes me by my sleeve and forces me to bend down. <</if>> She looks at me with an unreadable gaze. There’s heat in there, but it’s drowning in the freezing sea of her heart. She inspects my face, takes in every detail of me. Then, she smiles. “Are you my sacrificial lamb?” she asks with a hungry smile. I return the smile. “Do you plan on sacrificing me?” An amused smile lingers on her lips. “It’s better to keep the lamb in the dark.” “Maybe I don’t want to play with you anymore.” “It’s out of our hands now,” she says with an intense stare. Her tone is both serious and partly playful. Her words don’t seem like a game anymore. <<button[[Continue|sat_somethingbadcamilla]]>><</button>>

Her gaze is penetrating, it stabs me with its intensity. She lets out a pleased hum. “You’re shy.” “Could you maybe… Look away?” She won’t look away if I ask her to. But it’s worth a try. She barks out a laugh. “You can’t dance in the middle of a tavern filled with people and expect them not to look.” “Not people. You.” The others don’t look at me like you do. Like they want to devour me whole. Eat me piece by piece. A slight smile stretches her lips. “I see.” She gets up, and soon enough she’s facing me. \<<if (($height is "tall") and ($wolfmonster is true))>> She takes me by my fur and forces me to bend down. \<<elseif (($height is "tall") and ($cleopatra is true))>> She takes me by my neckpiece and forces me to bend down. \<<elseif (($height is "tall") and ($mouse is true))>> She takes me by my fur and forces me to bend down. \<<elseif (($height is "tall") and ($hercules is true))>> She takes me by my lion fur and forces me to bend down. \<<elseif (($height is "tall") and ($arminius is true))>> She takes me by my sleeve and forces me to bend down. <</if>> She looks at me with an unreadable gaze. There’s heat in there, but it’s drowning in the freezing sea of her heart. She inspects my face, takes in every detail of me. Then, she smiles. “Are you my sacrificial lamb?” she asks with a hungry smile. I frown at her words. “Do you plan on sacrificing me?” An amused smile lingers on her lips. “It’s better to keep the lamb in the dark.” “This isn’t funny.” “It’s out of our hands now,” she says with an intense stare. Her tone is both serious and partly playful. <<button[[Continue|sat_somethingbadcamilla]]>><</button>>

She can watch all she likes, I’m just here to dance. When I turn back to look at her, I almost shout in surprise: She stands in front of me with a hungry smile on her lips. She barks out a laugh. “You should see your face. Like a scared little lamb.” \<<if (($height is "tall") and ($wolfmonster is true))>> She takes me by my fur and forces me to bend down. \<<elseif (($height is "tall") and ($cleopatra is true))>> She takes me by my neckpiece and forces me to bend down. \<<elseif (($height is "tall") and ($mouse is true))>> She takes me by my fur and forces me to bend down. \<<elseif (($height is "tall") and ($hercules is true))>> She takes me by my lion fur and forces me to bend down. \<<elseif (($height is "tall") and ($arminius is true))>> She takes me by my sleeve and forces me to bend down. <</if>> She looks at me with an unreadable gaze. There’s heat in there, but it’s drowning in the freezing sea of her heart. She inspects my face, takes in every detail of me. Then, she smiles. “Are you my sacrificial lamb?” she asks with a hungry smile. I frown at her words. “Do you plan on sacrificing me?” An amused smile lingers on her lips. “It’s better to keep the lamb in the dark.” “This isn’t funny.” “It’s out of our hands now,” she says with an intense stare. Her tone is both serious and partly playful. <<button[[Continue|sat_somethingbadcamilla]]>><</button>>

She traces my jaw with her fingers. Her gaze is fixated on the movement, on my skin. She’s avoiding my gaze. “Something bad will happen tonight,” she says in a hushed voice. Her tone turns serious while her fingers still remain against my skin. “What is it?” She gives me a manic smile. “I feel it. Eyes at my back, just like at home.” It’s as if she wants to talk about her worries, but she’s not used to it. “Who is it?” Her gaze is glued to the crowd, unseeing. “Maybe I’m imagining it.” She retreats her fingers and fidgets the fabric of her toga. With that, she steps back to her couch to get to her lifeline — her wine. <<button[[Continue|sat_camillapity]]>><</button>>

She gives me an instant frown. “What do you claim to know about my life?” “Not much. But I think you’d rather be someone else. I think you’d rather run and leave everything behind.” Something flashes in her eyes, something akin to worry, horror, as if she’s being found out. But it’s quickly replaced by anger. “You don’t know me,” she hisses. “Don’t even try.” “I don’t know you. Every truth about you has been a lie.” A cold smile spreads on her lips. “Are you talking about the charade during Samhain? About my poor old father who died so tragically?” “Yes.” “Who told you that it was a lie?” “I doesn’t—” “It always matters.” “Why lie about your father? Did you think it would bring us closer? Because my…” I swallow the rest of the sentence. She raises her chin. “Yes,” she simply says. <<button[["You’re a manipulative asshole."|sat_manipulativecamilla]]>><</button>> <<button[[Remain silent.|sat_camillasilent3]]>><</button>> \<<if $camilla_user isnot true>> <<button[["You just continue to hurt me."|sat_camillahurt]]>><</button>> <</if>>

I wonder what has made her loathe the people around her so much. I don’t know what’s true about her anymore, and I can’t even begin to guess the reasons behind her actions. Something made her how she is now. I wonder if it will be revealed, or if she will remain an enigma in my past, forever hidden in the cloud of my mind. She frowns at my silence. “You are staring at me.” It bothers her. It makes her think that I know more than she does. “I’m just thinking,” I say. She gives me an unreadable gaze. Finally, she says, “Bad things will happen tonight.” "What things?" Her lips stretch into a manic smile. “I feel it. Eyes at my back, just like at home.” “What are you—” “You’ll see,” she says and reaches for her lifeline — her wine. I feel... <<button[[Pity.|sat_camillapity]]>><</button>> <<button[[Anger.|sat_camilla_angry]]>><</button>>

She nods at my words, fully agreeing with them. I thought that confronting her would bring me some conclusion, some sense of clarity. Instead, I have this. “Are you expecting me to apologize?” she asks. “No.” I suppose I’m not. All she gives me is a nod. And a long, unreadable stare. Finally, she says, “Bad things will happen tonight.” “Are you an oracle now? What are you—” She gives me a manic smile. “I feel it. Eyes at my back, just like at home.” “Are you trying to manipulate me to—” “You’ll see,” she says and reaches for her lifeline — her wine. I feel... <<button[[Pity.|sat_camillapity]]>><</button>> <<button[[Anger.|sat_camilla_angry]]>><</button>>

She hurts me physically and mentally. She lies through her teeth, she insults me. Still, I sit here like a fool next to her, thinking that we’re… something. She gives me an unreadable gaze. I’m not sure if she even hears me. Finally, she says, “Bad things will happen tonight.” “Are you an oracle now? What are you—” She gives me a manic smile. “I feel it. Eyes at my back, just like at home.” “Are you trying to manipulate me to—” “You’ll see,” she says and reaches for her lifeline — her wine. I feel... <<button[[Pity.|sat_camillapity]]>><</button>> <<button[[Anger.|sat_camilla_angry]]>><</button>>

Pity tries to raise its head within me when I look at her. And it’s a blessing that she doesn’t see it. She’s someone who’d take pity for an offense. Her gaze is glued to the crowd. \<<if (($camilla_gift is true) and ($bracelet_camilla is true))>> Maybe a gift would take her mind off things. “I have something for you,” I say and take the wrapped gift out of my bag. She gives me a suspicious look, as if I was going to give her poison as a present. “It’s not anything bad.” “I’ll be the judge of that,” she mutters and takes the gift. <<button[[Continue.|sat_braceletcamillagift]]>><</button>> \<<elseif (($camilla_gift is true) and ($wine_camilla is true))>> Maybe a gift would take her mind off things. “I have something for you,” I say and take the wrapped gift out of my bag. She gives me a suspicious look, as if I was going to give her poison as a present. “It’s not anything bad.” “I’ll be the judge of that,” she mutters and takes the gift. <<button[[Continue.|sat_flaskcamillagift]]>><</button>> \<<else>> Suddenly, Camilla’s eyes widen. "What is it?" I ask. <<button[[She doesn't answer.|sat_noanswercamilla]]>><</button>> <</if>>\

\<<set $camilla_angry_saturnalia to true>> I’m done with this. She can drown in her wine for all I care. Without another word, I leave. Unsure what to do with my time, I look around the room. <<button[[I should see what Tinsae is doing. (polyamory route)|sat_tinsae?][$polyroute to true]]>><</button>> <<button[[There's a man I don't recognize.|sat_emperor]]>><</button>>

Her lips move, but nothing comes out. Terror devours her gaze. “Camilla?” She looks at me. “Nothing,” she says. Her tone isn’t convincing. She clears her throat, clearly hearing the same thing I do. “Leave me alone,” she says with more force. “What did you–” “Nothing,” she repeats. “I want to sit down.” Before I can say anything more, she flees to her chair with her chest rising and falling rapidly. Her hands shake when she opens her flask and starts downing her wine. <<button[[Try to comfort her.|sat_camillacomforttry]]>><</button>> <<button[[Try to find out what's the matter.|sat_camillawhat]]>><</button>> <<button[[Just sit next to her silently.|sat_sitnexttoher]]>><</button>> <<button[[Give her space.|sat_giveherspace]]>><</button>>

She looks at the flask with a pleased smile on her lips. “It’s good quality.” She traces the golden veins with her finger. “Exquisite.” There’s a pleased smile on her lips as she says. “Excellent.” Without another word, she starts pouring her wine into the flask. \<<if $drinking_problem is true>> I purse my lips slightly at the scent of wine lingering around us. I can’t bring myself to reprimand her for her drinking, even if it seems excessive tonight. I take a sip of my goblet and remain silent. “Thank you,” she says. There’s even a small smile on her lips. “You’re welcome.” \<<else>> “Maybe you could put some juice into it? Water, perhaps?” She frowns at my suggestion. “What are you on about?” “I just…” The flask is already filled to the brim with her expensive wine. I don’t know what I expected. With her eyes peered into me, she takes a sip of her new flask, as if challenging me. “Fine, drink your wine. I just think you’ve had en—” “Shut it. And thank you.” “You’re welcome.” <</if>> Suddenly, Camilla’s eyes widen as she peers into the crowd of people. “What is it?” <<button[[She doesn't answer.|sat_noanswercamilla]]>><</button>>

She takes the bracelet out of the wrappings and gives it a small frown. \<<if $hobby_fashion is true>> “Did you make this?” She gives me a doubtful gaze. “I did.” “Extremely impressive,” she mutters and looks at the bracelet with a frown still lingering on her features. “Thank you.” She gives me a small, amused scoff. With that, she gives her wrist and says, “Put it on.” While I’m not surprised that she finds the bracelet beautiful, I am a little taken aback that she wants to wear it immediately. \<<else>> “You made this,” she says, as if it was an accusation. I clear my throat. “I did.” “It looks like it was made by a child.” Before I can come up with a rebuttal, she gives me her wrist. “Put it on.” “Really?” She gives me her wrist, briefly bobbing her head. ‘We don’t have all day,’ she says without words. <</if>>\ <<button[["Put it on yourself."|sat_putitonyourselfcamilla]]>><</button>> <<button[["Fine."|sat_fineobeycamilla]]>><</button>>

Her rudeness makes me want to disobey her commands, even if the intent is nicer than usual. She purses her lips and starts fidgeting the bracelet herself. But her fingers tremble. “Fine,” I say. I didn’t realize she was physically unable to do it herself. “I can do it!” she hisses and shields her wrist from me. “Don’t act like a child, let me—” “I’m not a child, let go of—” After a brief scuffle, I manage to put the bracelet on her. She looks less than pleased by the prospect. But at least she didn’t bite my head off. Suddenly, Camilla’s eyes widen as she peers into the crowd of people. “What is it?” <<button[[She doesn't answer.|sat_noanswercamilla]]>><</button>>

Despite her rudeness, I obey her command. At least her intent is nicer than usual. I take her slim wrist and, as I touch her hand, she flinches at the skin contact. The movement makes me look at her. She gives me a challenging glare, refusing to elaborate on her reaction. I wonder. Still, the bracelet is now decorating her wrist, and she gives it an approving glance. “Thank you,” she says. Suddenly, Camilla’s eyes widen as she peers into the crowd of people. “What is it?” <<button[[She doesn't answer.|sat_noanswercamilla]]>><</button>>

“Whatever is bothering you–” “Shut it,” she spits out and takes another gulp of her wine. Alright, that didn’t work. What if… “I’m here for–” “I don’t need you.” I take a deep breath. At least not attacking me this time. I almost let out a small chuckle at the thought. Thankfully, I manage to swallow it. “Fine,” I say with my hands raised in surrender. “I will let you alone for a while. If that is what you want?” She throws me a hateful glance. “Finally.” I take another deep breath. She is testing my patience. “I will come back,” I say. She doesn’t bite my head off at the notion. At least that’s a win. Instead, she falls silent and stares at the crowd, as if something would jump out and assault her. It feels wrong to leave her alone. But I can’t really force my presence on her, either. So, without another word, I leave her. Unsure what to do with my time, I look around the room. <<button[[I should see what Tinsae is doing. (polyamory route)|sat_tinsae?][$polyroute to true]]>><</button>> <<button[[There's a man I don't recognize.|sat_emperor]]>><</button>>

“Who did you see?” “No one.” “Who did you think you saw?” She throws me a dirty glance. “Do you know?” “No?” Why would I know? What is this? She takes another gulp of her wine. “Forget it.” “But—” “Leave me alone.” She’s clearly hurting, but insists on pushing me away. “Fine,” I say. She nods at my curt words, clearly relieved that she didn’t have to throw me out. Without another word, I leave. Unsure what to do with my time, I look around the room. <<button[[I should see what Tinsae is doing. (polyamory route)|sat_tinsae?][$polyroute to true]]>><</button>> <<button[[There's a man I don't recognize.|sat_emperor]]>><</button>>

She keeps drinking her wine as if it was water. Little by little, alcohol finally soothes her nervers. “I need to be alone,” she says. “Are you—” “Just leave.” Beneat the anger, there’s worry and weariness. “Fine,” I say with my hands raised in surrender. “I will let you alone for a while. If that is what you want?” She throws me a hateful glance. “Finally.” I take another deep breath. She is testing my patience. “I will come back,” I say. She doesn’t bite my head off at the notion. At least that’s a win. Instead, she falls silent and stares at the crowd, as if something would jump out and assault her. It feels wrong to leave her alone. But I can’t really force my presence on her, either. So, without another word, I leave her. Unsure what to do with my time, I look around the room. <<button[[I should see what Tinsae is doing. (polyamory route)|sat_tinsae?][$polyroute to true]]>><</button>> <<button[[There's a man I don't recognize.|sat_emperor]]>><</button>>

“Fine,” I say with my hands raised in surrender. “I will let you alone for a while. If that is what you want?” She throws me a hateful glance. “Finally.” I take another deep breath. She is testing my patience. “I will come back,” I say. She doesn’t bite my head off at the notion. At least that’s a win. Instead, she falls silent and stares at the crowd, as if something would jump out and assault her. It feels wrong to leave her alone. But I can’t really force my presence on her, either. So, without another word, I leave her. Unsure what to do with my time, I look around the room. <<button[[I should see what Tinsae is doing. (polyamory route)|sat_tinsae?][$polyroute to true]]>><</button>> <<button[[There's a man I don't recognize.|sat_emperor]]>><</button>>

Instantly after seeing my smile, his face falls. “But I don’t deserve it. I’m an insolent whore.” “Camilla was just feeling especially poisonous today.” “But I…” He sighs. Then, something other than selfpity occupies his mind. “I think I need to visit the, uh, toilet. I… Well.” He gestures at his stomach, and I really don’t need to know more about the aftermath of his poisoned body. “Sure,” I say. “I’ll be here.” Maybe. I’m left wondering what to do next with my time. <<button[[There's a man I don't recognize.|sat_emperor]]>><</button>>

My words seep of bitterness and they make him frown deeply. “I’m in no state to dance.” “So that’s the only reason–” “I wouldn’t want to dance with them anyway,” he says, as if that’s the problem in the first place. I sigh in frustration. There’s no making sense of him. He gives me a helpless look. “I’m sorry, I–” He groans. “I think I need to visit the, uh, toilet. I… Well.” He gestures at his stomach, and I really don’t need to know more about the aftermath of his poisoned body. “Sure,” I say. “I’ll be here.” Maybe. I’m left wondering what to do next with my time. <<button[[There's a man I don't recognize.|sat_emperor]]>><</button>>

I’m not sure what else to say. I didn’t expect a murder attempt for tonight. Or did I? Maybe. Niall gives me an unreadable expression. “I think I need to visit the, uh, toilet. I… Well.” He gestures at his stomach, and I really don’t need to know more about the aftermath of his poisoned body. “Sure,” I say. “I’ll be here.” Maybe. I’m left wondering what to do next with my time. <<button[[There's a man I don't recognize.|sat_emperor]]>><</button>>

He leads me to his table. There’s a small, awkward smile on his face as he looks at me. “I’m sorry,” he says. The apology seems sincere enough, but there’s the underlying question of whatever even happened that made him push me away in such a way? He shifts on his chair uncomfortably as I look at him. “I don’t know,” he says before I can even ask him. He takes another gulp of wine and grimaces. “I don’t think you should drink that after you just—” “I know,” he says while continuing to drink. “I won’t let her ruin my party.” There’s a small, determined frown on his face. “I love Saturnalia and I won’t let her ruin it.” <<button[["She was defending me. In her weird way."|sat_camilladefender]]>><</button>> <<button[["She does seem a little unhinged."|sat_camillaunhinged]]>><</button>> <<button[[Remain silent.|sat_niallsilent2]]>><</button>>

Maybe she and I will be the best friends of all time. Or, maybe she was just feeling outrageously petty today, and Niall’s actions made for a good excuse to ruin someone else’s evening, too. Niall offers a quick nod at my words. “I know. And she was right. I…” He sighs. “I don’t know.” <<button[[Continue|sat_niallheavysilence]]>><</button>>

I’ve never met a family where quarrels are solved with poison. Tinsae, too, seemed all too familiar with Camilla’s way of handling things. Niall nods with a frown. “She’s not usually quite like this.” He looks over his shoulder, as if afraid to see Camilla stomping his way with murder on her mind. He lets out a heavy sigh. “I’m worried.” “That she’s going to try to kill you again?” I wouldn’t put it past her. “No! I’m sure this was just a one-off. But there’s something bothering her, if she’s acting like this.” “What would excuse this?” Another, deep and weary sigh leaves his lips. “I don’t know.” <<button[[Continue|sat_niallheavysilence]]>><</button>>

I’m not sure what to make of Camilla’s actions. She seemed to defend me, in her weird way, but it’s difficult to defend the actions of a woman who poisoned her stepson. Niall sighs, as if in agreement. “I don’t know.” <<button[[Continue|sat_niallheavysilence]]>><</button>>

Heavy silence falls between us. Niall, still frowning from pain, takes another sip of his wine. He seems extremely uncomfortable, and not just because of the poison. “Listen,” he starts, clearly unsure how he wants to finish that sentence. “I… Well. I’m really sorry for what I said. And how I acted.” “So you don’t want me to stay away from you?” “I do,” he says with a firm nod. When I frown at his words, he says, “I mean, it would be best for the both of us.” I sigh tiredly. “Is this because you fear what might happen to me?” “Yes. But also, I would love to be like I was before. Before I met you. Before I wasn’t like this.” So, that hasn’t changed in his mind. “I still don’t understand how–” “Me neither,” he says with a deep sigh. He takes another sip of his wine. “Try to tell me what’s wrong with you. Try to make me understand.” “When you saw me with the people… When I was dancing, when everyone was laughing. I was like that before. But now.” He gives me a brief, uncertain look. “I’m… Not.” Disgust seeps into his features. “Now, I’m a fumbling fool.” “You’re not–” “I am. You don’t have to try and defend me.” “So, if that is what you were,” I start. “Did you want to sleep with those women? With whom you were dancing?” He gives me a long look. “I would have,” he says. His words make me tense up. “Before I met you, that is,” he says quickly. “And it made things weirder. Somehow I thought that if I slept with them, everything would turn to normal. I would be myself again. But… I just… Didn’t want to.” “You thought that sleeping with them would solve this?” What kind of logic is that? He shifts uncomfortably. “I didn’t say it was a good plan. And it just made things worse.” <<button[[There must be a logical explanation to this.|sat_logicalniall]]>><</button>> <<button[["You're saying that I've bewitched you in some way?"|sat_bewitchniall]]>><</button>>

“So, you feel self-conscious around me,” I say. He nods. “And, for some reason, you don’t want to continue your past self’s tendencies to act like an ‘insolent slut’?” “I– Well.” He gives me another, reluctant nod. This one is accompanied with a hint of redness on his cheeks. “The explanation that makes the most sense is that… Maybe you just like me?” I offer. He frowns at my words, even if they make the most sense. Not the reaction I anticipated. When he realizes my vexation over his reaction, he’s quick to say, “I mean, maybe.” With that, his cheeks flush. “I mean, I don’t like you like that. You are a good friend that I’m trying to protect from the world and the–” “By the gods, Niall, let’s just talk about something else.” This conversation will go nowhere. “Good thing that I’m leaving, anyway.” I let out a dry laugh. “You can continue your old life in peace.” He frowns. “I… Oh.” It’s as if he just remembered it. He rubs his face. “You need to leave. It’s safer.” <<button[["So, you don't care that I leave?"|sat_dontcareniall]]>><</button>> <<button[[Let it be.|sat_niallletitbe]]>><</button>>

He nods slowly. “Maybe I am saying that. That would make the most sense.” “Really?” I doubt that would make the most sense, but if it makes him feel better. “I didn’t do it on purpose, at least.” “I know,” he says with a determined nod. “You wouldn’t do that to me.” \<<if $niall_user is true>> Well, debatable. But, the truth is that I didn’t. <</if>>\ Was it Quinn? I frown at the thought. It’s not $q_his style to bewitch people in such a way. $q_He’s much more… Direct in $q_his approach. Niall lets out a heavy sigh. “I don’t know. I should just accept this.” “You don’t want to find the cause?” “I do, but I don’t know where to start. I mean, you’re the root cause, but I don’t know what to do with you.” “Other than push me away?” “Look what that did to me,” he says with a small, self-deprecating chuckle. “Good thing that I’m leaving, anyway.” I let out a dry laugh. “You can continue your old life in peace.” He frowns. “I… Oh.” It’s as if he just remembered it. He rubs his face. “You need to leave. It’s safer.” <<button[["So, you don't care that I leave?"|sat_dontcareniall]]>><</button>> <<button[[Let it be.|sat_niallletitbe]]>><</button>>

“Of course I care,” he says with a deep grimace on his face. It pains him to hear me say it. “But because I care, I–” This conversation will lead us nowhere. “I think we should do something else.” He sighs. “I agree.” <<button[["Let's dance."|sat_danceniall]]>><</button>> <<button[["I think I need another drink."|sat_drinkniall]]>><</button>>

He’s already made the decision in his mind that leaving will protect me. Nothing I say right now will change it. His words might ring true, but why do they make me feel tightness in my stomach? He sighs. “I mean, you know what I mean. I don’t want you to–” This conversation will lead us nowhere. “I think we should do something else.” He sighs. “I agree.” <<button[["Let's dance."|sat_danceniall]]>><</button>> <<button[["I think I need another drink."|sat_drinkniall]]>><</button>>

“Dance?” he asks with a small grimace. “I mean… If you can manage?” “I can,” he says. “Probably. There’s still some poison in my system.” He gets up with wobbly feet and gives me his hand. “Let’s try.” He walks to a spot where there aren’t that many drunk vegetables littering the floor, and gives me an unsure smile, coated with pain. “Are you sure you can do this?” I ask. “Yes,” he says with a slight frown on his face. “I’m sure.” Then, with determination, he starts dancing. First, his movement is careful, exploring, unsure if his body can take it. With every movement of his hips, he grows more confident with his body. He gives me a smile. “Join me.” I give him my hand. <<button[[Let's dance.|sat_dancenialldance]]>><</button>>

Niall gives me a firm nod. “Me, too.” I’m about to say something about the poison, but he’s already chugging his wine down as if he was in a hurry. The evening has taken its toll on him. But I doubt this is the right way to handle it. <<button[[Take the wine away.|sat_niallnowine]]>><</button>> <<button[[Let him drink.|sat_niallletdrink]]>><</button>>

His body moves like water. He’s not as confident in his movements as he was with the crowd before, but still he seems to be able to get lost in music. His hips shake with the rhythm of the drums, his eyeliner smudging a little due to sweat. “I love your outfit,” I say. He bites his lip and stops dancing, as if to hear my compliments more clearly. “Thank you. It’s…” He gives his skimpy outfit a quick glance. “A little different.” He knows he looks good, but he still seems to yearn for adoration. From me. <<button[[Shower him with compliments.|sat_showerniall]]>><</button>> <<button[[He expects me to give him more compliments. I won't.|sat_nocompliments]]>><</button>> <<button[[Try to give him more compliments.|sat_trycomplimentniall]]>><</button>>

“You look like a god become flesh,” I say. It’s true. Like Neptune, but with more flair and a touch of femininity. “Really?” His eyes widen, his gaze glimmers with pleasure, his cheeks burn up with heat. “I love Salacia, the goddess of the sea. The hair…” He gestures helpfully at his ornate hair. “Is inspired by her.” \<<if $clueless is true>> I look at the pearls resting against his tight chest. They compliment beautifully the tone of his skin, and the pastel blue seashells look alluring on his red hair. He looks god-like. A beautiful man that rose from the sea to bewitch the mortal beings and bring them back to the deep waters. The clearing of Niall’s throat makes me look at him. His face is flushed red, and I can’t quite understand why. Then, I realize that my fingers are playing with his pearls. My fingers touch his naked skin, making him shiver. “Oh!” I exclaim and yank my hand off. “I’m sorry, I was deep in thought and–” “No, it’s alright!” Niall says and violently clears his throat. \<<elseif $loud_pervert is true>> “And the pearls,” I say and touch his chest where the pearls lie, play with one of the pearls almost absentmindedly. A breath hitches on my throat as his chest tightens against my touch. He nods with a painful swallow, I can see it from the way his throat moves. He’s nervous. It makes me want to tease him. “You look so good I wish I could eat you up,” I say in a whisper, meant for his ears only. “Right here, right now. In front of everyone.” His eyes widen at my words. Immense heat rushes to his cheeks, it’s a joy to witness. Even his throat is red. I touch the skin of his wildly racing pulse briefly. He flinches at my touch, shrinks to himself. I chuckle at the sight. Teasing him is always too easy. Still, I let him off the hook. This time. He sighs in relief when I let go of him. But there’s something else buried beneath that exhale. Frustration. It makes my grin grow a little wider. \<<elseif $shy_pervert is true>> “And the pearls,” I say and touch his chest where the pearls lie, play with one of the pearls almost absentmindedly. A breath hitches on my throat as his chest tightens against my touch. He nods with a painful swallow, I can see it from the way his throat moves. His nervousness makes me second-guess my actions. But the pull of his naked flesh makes me place my palm against his pec. It makes him shiver. I hold it there for a while longer, taking in how his heart beats wildly against my hand. I look him in the eyes, expecting to see him flushing and embarrassed. Instead, I’m met with his heated gaze. His chest starts rising and falling quicker. Someone shrieks in joy close by. It makes Niall blink. Something clicks in his mind, and he starts clearing his throat. I quickly take my hand off him. \<<elseif $not_interested is true>> “And the pearls,” I say as my gaze briefly lingers on his other ornaments. He’s beautiful to look at, I can’t deny it. Like Neptune himself. And he gleams happily when he hears me say that. “Thank you,” he says again, this time with more chest, with more confidence. <</if>> <<button[[Continue|sat_nialloutfitappreciation]]>><</button>>

He looks like a little puppy, eager to be called a good boy. There’s a part of me that refuses to comply. When I refuse to shower him with compliments, he gives me a small, yet extremely disappointed, pout. And I give him a small smile in return. <<button[[Continue|sat_nialloutfitappreciation]]>><</button>>

I could tell him how he reminds me of a god, how the pearls compliment his skin. But the words sound silly in my head. It’s better to keep it simple. “It’s a good look,” I say. “Is it?” He perks up, eager to hear more. “Yes. It makes you look… Good.” He waits for a brief moment longer, as if I would come up with something better. But I think that this is sufficient enough. So, I merely nod. Self-consciously, he rubs his arm before giving me a quick smile. “Thank you.” <<button[[Continue|sat_nialloutfitappreciation]]>><</button>>

\<<if $arminius is true>> He sighs at my outfit. “Hati,” he starts. There’s a mix of disappointment and tired amusement in his tone of voice. “I’m just here to remind the people what happens when they turn their backs on barbarians,” I say with an innocent shrug. He lets out another tired sigh. “I’m sure most of them will think of it as a bad joke. Most of them might not even remember.” “I think they do. Arminius killed three of their Legions. That’s impressive.” “That’s not impressive, that’s–” “Don’t you think you could follow the man’s footsteps?” He frowns at my words. “Your fates are pretty similar in nature. Maybe your road would–” “No,” he says flatly. “Please don’t joke about that.” I’m not joking, but I hold my tongue. For now. He almost starts to rake through his hair, but remembers just in time that he has an array of ornaments in there. With a frown, he says, “Still, when I saw you rushing to my rescue, I just saw you, not the man who slaughtered the armies. And I really wanted to… Well.” He clears his throat. “To give you a hug.” \<<elseif $hercules is true>> He smiles at my outfit. “I’ve been meaning to compliment you.” I tilt my head to hear him better in the chatter of the tavern. His smile grows. “The loincloth suits you well. You look marvelous.” “Thank you.” “Your thighs…” He clears his throat. “Well…” I strain my thigh muscles and show him my bicep. He laughs, showing his. He continues, “When I saw you swooping into my rescue dressed as Hercules himself, I wasn’t sure if I had died already. And I really just wanted to give you a hug.” \<<elseif $cleopatra is true>> He smiles at my outfit. “I’ve been meaning to compliment you.” I tilt my head to hear him better in the chatter of the tavern. His smile grows. “I didn’t expect you to see you in a dress. You look beautiful.” “Thank you,” I say and give him a little twirl. “Beautiful,” he repeats. Then, he quickly clears his throat and looks away. “Anyway… When I saw you swooping into my rescue dressed as Cleopatra herself, I wasn’t sure if I had died already. And I really just wanted to give you a hug.” \<<elseif (($wolfmonster is true) and ($psycho is true))>> He lets out a little chuckle at my outfit. “I’ve been meaning to say that you look a little terrifying.” “Oh? Do I scare you?” “No,” he says with a weak voice. He tries to clear his throat and almost says it again, before evidently realizing that it would be a little silly of him. His meek demeanor makes me want to jump at him and rip his throat open. I smile at the thought. Niall lets out an awkward laugh. “Seeing a skull-faced thing swoop into my rescue was almost enough to make me question the reality. If you’re Mors herself taking me to the Underworld.” “Or Donn,” I say, subtly reminding him of his roots. “Or Donn,” he repeats my words silently. “And when I realized it’s you, I just wanted to give you a hug.” \<<elseif (($wolfmonster is true) and ($psycho isnot true))>> He lets out a little chuckle at my outfit. “I’ve been meaning to say that you look a little terrifying.” “Oh? Do I scare you?” “No,” he says with a weak voice. He tries to clear his throat and almost says it again, before evidently realizing that it would be a little silly of him. His meek demeanor makes me want to jump at him and rip his throat open. I blink at the intrusive thought. Niall lets out an awkward laugh. “Seeing a skull-faced thing swoop into my rescue was almost enough to make me question the reality. If you’re Mors herself taking me to the Underworld.” “Or Donn,” I say, subtly reminding him of his roots. “Or Donn,” he repeats my words silently. “And when I realized it’s you, I just wanted to give you a hug.” \<<elseif $mouse is true>> He lets out a chuckle at my outfit. “I’ve been meaning to say that you look extremely cute today.” I look at my soft grey clothing. “Thank you.” “When you swooped into my rescue dressed as a cute little mouse, I just wanted to give you a tight hug.” <</if>> <<button[["You can hug me now."|sat_niallhug]]>><</button>>

He gives me a warm, relaxed smile. Without a moment of hesitation, he takes me in his arms. I’m squeezed tightly against his abdomen, against his naked chest that’s still a little damp due to the pain he went through. He starts swaying me as the music plays, awkwardly forcing me to join his slow dance while still in his embrace. The dance is clumsy. It looks silly. I almost fall down, but he holds me in place with a little chuckle moving his belly. Still, he holds me close. <<button[[Maybe it's not that bad. I lean into him.|sat_leanintoniall]]>><</button>> <<button[[Laugh and continue dancing.|sat_laughdanceniall]]>><</button>>

My first instinct is to fight against the embrace of the mountain of a man, but with every wobbly step, I find myself quite comfortable in his embrace. I take a deep breath and choose to be content with my current situation. I close my eyes and focus on his beating heart, on the damp warmth of his skin. My mind starts to drift away as he holds me close, tightly against his strong frame. It’s as if I’m safe in a cocoon made of Niall. “Uh, are you alright?” I hear Niall asking. He stopped dancing. “I almost fell asleep,” I say. It’s already been a long night. He starts chuckling and his chest shakes along with his amusement. “Were you that comfortable?” He gives me a surprised smile, as if his embrace being a safe haven for me is surprising to him. Maybe it is a little surprising. Even for me. “Hush now,” I say. “And continue cradling me through the dance floor.” I lean fully into him, he’s more than strong enough to handle my weight. With a little chuckle, he continues to drag me through the floor, half-heartedly swaying me to the music. Finally, I’m almost falling asleep in Niall’s arms. I need something to wake me up. “I have something,” Niall says and leaves to fetch me another drink. <<button[[Continue|sat_legate]]>><</button>>

\<<if $teetotaller is true>> It’s silly, but maybe that’s exactly what I need right now. \<<else>> Maybe it’s the wine making foolish decisions for me, but I feel a little giddy and don’t mind the silliness. <</if>>\ So, I let go of my hesitation and start dancing with him, too close for comfort with our legs tangling into each other. I let out a laugh when we almost fall down, and he gives me a surprised look. As if he hasn’t heard me laugh before. He lets out a small laugh in return along with a warm, affectionate glance. Before I can react, he continues to guide me through the dance floor like we were two drunkards trying to hold each other for balance. The melody becomes slower, more controlled, less dance-worthy. I give Niall a small, disappointed frown. \<<if $height is "tall">> In return, he squeezes me close to him. \<<else>> In return, he buries me in his chest. <</if>>\ “What—” “Let’s dance like this for a while,” he murmurs against my hair. The frown on my face remains, but my mind is open to different sorts of dancing. So, I lean against him and accept my destiny. I take a deep breath and choose to be content with my current situation. I close my eyes and focus on his beating heart, on the damp warmth of his skin. My mind starts to drift away as he holds me close, tightly against his strong frame. It’s as if I’m safe in a cocoon made of Niall. “Uh, are you alright?” I hear Niall asking. He stopped dancing. “I almost fell asleep,” I say. It’s already been a long night. “Thank the gods the music is lively again.” But Niall’s embrace left me drowsy. I need something to wake me up. “I have something,” Niall says and leaves to fetch me another drink. <<button[[Continue|sat_legate]]>><</button>>

I give him a small, disapproving glance. I’m not the one to judge other people’s drinking habits, at least not on the regular. However, I am going to do that when they’re recovering from a murder attempt by poison. “Don’t look at me like that,” he slurs. “You might die due to alcohol poisoning.” “I want to enjoy my Saturnalia.” “You can do so without dying.” I yank his wine away. “Hey!” He gives me a sad little frown. “No wine for you.” He pouts and crosses his arms. “What a shit party,” he says. It seems he has lost all will to try and have fun. \<<if $party_pooper is true>> “Hear hear,” I say and give the man passing us a death glare. I was already done with this party at the door when I arrived, and it hasn’t really gotten any better. Niall gives me a small laugh. “You look so grim. It’s cute.” “Cute?” I frown. I almost roll my eyes at the compliment. \<<else>> Still, I say, “Don’t say that. The night is still young.” “No, it’s not. And I almost died.” Well, yes. There is that. <</if>>\ We sit in silence for a while longer. Soon enough, I feel Niall’s gaze on me. <<button[["What is it?" I ask.|sat_niallwhatisit]]>><</button>>

I’m not the one to judge other people’s drinking habits, even when they’re recovering from a murder attempt by poison. I guess I should look after him. If he shows signs of poisoning, I will probably have to do something. \<<if $herbalist is true>> At least I know herbs that can help with alcohol poisoning. <</if>>\ He puts the goblet down with a deep frown on his face. “What a shit party,” he slurs. It seems he has lost all will to try and have fun. I can’t really fault him. \<<if $party_pooper is true>> “Hear hear,” I say and give the man passing us a death glare. I was already done with this party at the door when I arrived, and it hasn’t really gotten any better. Niall gives me a small laugh. “You look so grim. It’s cute.” “Cute?” I frown. I almost roll my eyes at the compliment. \<<else>> Still, I say, “Don’t say that. The night is still young.” “No, it’s not. And I almost died.” Well, yes. There is that. <</if>>\ We sit in silence for a while longer. Soon enough, I feel Niall’s gaze on me. <<button[["What is it?" I ask.|sat_niallwhatisit]]>><</button>>

\<<if $arminius is true>> "I've been meaning to talk to you about your..." He sighs at my outfit. There’s a mix of disappointment and tired amusement in his tone of voice. “I’m just here to remind the people what happens when they turn their backs on barbarians,” I say with an innocent shrug. He lets out another tired sigh. “I’m sure most of them will think of it as a bad joke. Most of them might not even remember.” “I think they do. Arminius killed three of their Legions. That’s impressive.” “That’s not impressive, that’s–” “Don’t you think you could follow the man’s footsteps?” He frowns at my words. “Your fates are pretty similar in nature. Maybe your road would–” “No,” he says flatly. “Please don’t joke about that.” I’m not joking, but I hold my tongue. For now. He almost starts to rake through his hair, but remembers just in time that he has an array of ornaments in there. With a frown, he says, “Still, when I saw you rushing to my rescue, I just saw you, not the man who slaughtered the armies. And I really wanted to… Well.” He clears his throat. “To give you a hug.” \<<elseif $hercules is true>> He smiles at my outfit. “I’ve been meaning to compliment you.” I tilt my head to hear him better in the chatter of the tavern. His smile grows. “The loincloth suits you well. You look marvelous.” “Thank you.” “Your thighs…” He clears his throat. “Well…” I strain my thigh muscles and show him my bicep. He laughs, showing his. He continues, “When I saw you swooping into my rescue dressed as Hercules himself, I wasn’t sure if I had died already. And I really just wanted to give you a hug.” \<<elseif $cleopatra is true>> He smiles at my outfit. “I’ve been meaning to compliment you.” I tilt my head to hear him better in the chatter of the tavern. His smile grows. “I didn’t expect you to see you in a dress. You look beautiful.” “Thank you,” I say. “Beautiful,” he repeats. Then, he quickly clears his throat and looks away. “Anyway… When I saw you swooping into my rescue dressed as Cleopatra herself, I wasn’t sure if I had died already. And I really just wanted to give you a hug.” \<<elseif (($wolfmonster is true) and ($psycho is true))>> He lets out a little chuckle at my outfit. “I’ve been meaning to say that you look a little terrifying.” “Oh? Do I scare you?” “No,” he says with a weak voice. He tries to clear his throat and almost says it again, before evidently realizing that it would be a little silly of him. His meek demeanor makes me want to jump at him and rip his throat open. I smile at the thought. Niall lets out an awkward laugh. “Seeing a skull-faced thing swoop into my rescue was almost enough to make me question the reality. If you’re Mors herself taking me to the Underworld.” “Or Donn,” I say, subtly reminding him of his roots. “Or Donn,” he repeats my words silently. “And when I realized it’s you, I just wanted to give you a hug.” \<<elseif (($wolfmonster is true) and ($psycho isnot true))>> He lets out a little chuckle at my outfit. “I’ve been meaning to say that you look a little terrifying.” “Oh? Do I scare you?” “No,” he says with a weak voice. He tries to clear his throat and almost says it again, before evidently realizing that it would be a little silly of him. His meek demeanor makes me want to jump at him and rip his throat open. I blink at the intrusive thought. Niall lets out an awkward laugh. “Seeing a skull-faced thing swoop into my rescue was almost enough to make me question the reality. If you’re Mors herself taking me to the Underworld.” “Or Donn,” I say, subtly reminding him of his roots. “Or Donn,” he repeats my words silently. “And when I realized it’s you, I just wanted to give you a hug.” \<<elseif $mouse is true>> He lets out a chuckle at my outfit. “I’ve been meaning to say that you look extremely cute today.” I look at my soft grey clothing. “Thank you.” “When you swooped into my rescue dressed as a cute little mouse, I just wanted to give you a tight hug.” <</if>> <<button[["You can hug me now."|sat_niallhugsit]]>><</button>> <<button[["No hugging."|sat_niallnohugs]]>><</button>>

He gives me a bright smile and makes his way to my chair. He opens his arms and grabs me to his warm embrace, forcing me to stand up and lean against him. I’m squeezed tightly against his abdomen, against his naked chest that’s still a little damp due to the pain he went through. He starts swaying me as the music plays, awkwardly forcing me to join his slow dance while still in his embrace. “What are you doing?” I wheeze. “A little hug dance,” he says. <<button[["No hug dances for me," I say with a little frown.|sat_nohugdance]]>><</button>> <<button[[I reluctantly remain in his embrace.|sat_reluctanthugdance]]>><</button>>

“Oh, I, uh, of course,” he says quickly, clearly embarrassed that he asked. \<<if $niall_user is true>> I let him stew in his embarrassment for a while longer as I sip my drink and look at the people around us. I give him a small glance as he fidgets with the pearls that lie against his chest. “I love your outfit,” I say. \<<else>> “I just don’t feel like it right now,” I say with a small smile to make him feel better. He looks so defeated. “Oh, no, don’t apologize. I completely understand. I shouldn't even ask after...” I look at him playing with the pearls on his chest. “I love your outfit,” I say to change the topic. <</if>>\ His eyes brighten up as a pleased surge of heat rises to his cheeks. “Thank you. It’s…” He gives his skimpy outfit a quick glance. “A little different.” He knows he looks good, but he still seems to yearn for adoration. From me. <<button[[Shower him with compliments.|sat_showersitniall]]>><</button>> <<button[[He expects me to give him more compliments. I won't.|sat_nocomplimentsniall]]>><</button>> <<button[[Try to give him more compliments.|sat_trytocomplimentniall]]>><</button>>

“I don’t do hug dances,” I say with a little frown on my face. “Oh, right,” he says with an embarrassed laugh. “Of course you don’t.” “What is that supposed to mean?” “Nothing, nothing.” He lets out another laugh and starts fidgeting with the pearls that lie against his naked chest. “I love your outfit,” I say. He looks beautiful tonight, and knowing him, he would like to hear it. His eyes brighten up as a pleased surge of heat rises to his cheeks. “Thank you. It’s…” He gives his skimpy outfit a quick glance. “A little different.” He knows he looks good, but he still seems to yearn for adoration. From me. <<button[[Shower him with compliments.|sat_showersitniallhug]]>><</button>> <<button[[He expects me to give him more compliments. I won't.|sat_nocomplimentsniall]]>><</button>> <<button[[Try to give him more compliments.|sat_trytocomplimentniall]]>><</button>>

My first instinct is to fight against the hug dancing embrace of the mountain of a man, but with every wobbly step, I find myself quite comfortable in his embrace. I take a deep breath and choose to be content with my current situation. I close my eyes and focus on his beating heart, on the damp warmth of his skin. My mind starts to drift away as he holds me close, tightly against his strong frame. It’s as if I’m safe in a cocoon made of Niall. “Uh, are you alright?” I hear Niall asking. He stopped dancing. “I almost fell asleep,” I say. It’s already been a long night. He starts chuckling and his chest shakes along with his amusement. “Were you that comfortable?” He gives me a surprised smile, as if his embrace being a safe haven for me is surprising to him. “Yes,” I admit. He gives me a thoroughly pleased and proud smile. He fidgets with the pearls that lie against his chest. “I love your outfit,” I say. His eyes brighten up as a pleased surge of heat rises to his cheeks. “Thank you. It’s…” He gives his skimpy outfit a quick glance. “A little different.” He knows he looks good, but he still seems to yearn for adoration. From me. <<button[[Shower him with compliments.|sat_showersitniall]]>><</button>> <<button[[He expects me to give him more compliments. I won't.|sat_nocomplimentsniall]]>><</button>> <<button[[Try to give him more compliments.|sat_trytocomplimentniall]]>><</button>>

!!<h2>Chapter 8</h2> It’s the morning of Saturnalia. The army has to be on standby despite the holiday, so some soldiers are forced to stay on watch and not partake in the festivities for a few days. However, give it to Romans to have any excuse to drink and gamble for days on end, so they will definitely have their chance later. Our squad is not part of the reserves for the first part of the celebrations, which means we got to sleep late today. I would’ve slept if I could. My headache is getting worse. I wake up multiple times a night, biting my teeth, hoping that the Twins take it away. “Couldn’t sleep?” Floyd asks. I give him a nonchalant nod. \<<if $dummy is true>> He’s been trying to treat me as he did before but something’s changed after I told him about the vision. He flinches when I look at him for too long. Like he’s afraid I can read his thoughts. After the headaches started, he started looking at me like I’m on the verge of a mental breakdown. \<<else>> He gives me a sympathetic smile. He’s been a little more wary of me after I saw the eyes at the back of his head but thankfully I shut my mouth about it. Still, he probably thinks I’m on the verge of a mental breakdown because of my headaches. <</if>>\ Perhaps I am. “Did you take your medicine?” he asks. Before I can answer, Pec looks at me with pursed lips. “You look like shit.” “Thanks.” “But!” he shouts, making me flinch, sending a jolt of pain through my skull. “Today we’ll drink! I’m sure it’ll bring a smile even to your grumpy face.” \<<if (($teetotaller is true) or ($lightweight_drinker is true) or ($drinking_problem is true))>> <<button[[Continue|c8_drinking]]>><</button>> \<<else>> <<button[[''I don't drink.''|c8_don't_drink]]>><</button>> <<button[[''I don't think I'll indulge. I can't hold my alcohol.''|c8_canthold]]>><</button>> <<button[["Thank the gods." The thought of alcohol makes me smile.|c8_problem]]>><</button>> <</if>>\

\<<if (($teetotaller is true) and ($height is "short") and ($build is "lithe"))>> “You don’t drink?” he looks at me as if I’ve lost my mind. “I don’t drink, either.” Kegan jumps in my defense. “You’re a little cockroach and booze gets straight into your little head, of course you don’t drink.” Pec gives me a quick lookover. “I mean…” “I’m a little cockroach, too?” “Yeah, something like that.” He sighs. “Fine, have fun sober.” \<<elseif (($teetotaller is true) and ($height isnot "short") and ($build isnot "lithe"))>> “You don’t drink?” he looks at me as if I’ve lost my mind. “I don’t drink, either.” Kegan jumps in my defense. “You’re a little cockroach and booze gets straight into your little head, of course you don’t drink." He sighs. “Fine, have fun sober.” \<<elseif $lightweight_drinker is true>> “I won’t indulge. I can’t hold my alcohol.” I shouldn’t have said that. Pec starts rubbing his hands together like a fly preparing for the feast of his lifetime. “You can’t, huh?” he asks. “You’re going to spike my drink?” He lets out an evil laugh and skips away through the door. “Hey! Watch it mister!” A small voice carries through the door. Antonia. \<<elseif $drinking_problem is true>> The thought of wine alleviating some of the headache plaguing my skull is not an unwelcome one. "See?" Pec says. "You're already smiling!" Might as well get a drinking problem on top of everything else. <</if>>\ <<button[["Continue"|c8_antonia]]>><</button>>

“You don’t drink?” he looks at me as if I’ve lost my mind. “I don’t drink, either.” Kegan jumps in my defense. “You’re a little cockroach and booze gets straight into your little head, of course you don’t drink.” \<<if (($height is "short") and ($build is "lithe"))>> Pec gives me a quick lookover. “I mean…” “I’m a little cockroach, too?” “Yeah, something like that.” <</if>>\ He sighs. “Fine, have fun sober.” <<button[["Continue"|c8_antonia]]>><</button>>

“I won’t indulge. I can’t hold my alcohol.” I shouldn’t have said that. Pec starts rubbing his hands together like a fly preparing for the feast of his lifetime. “You can’t, huh?” he asks. “You’re going to spike my drink?” He lets out an evil laugh and skips away through the door. “Hey! Watch it mister!” A small voice carries through the door. Antonia. <<button [["Continue"|c8_antonia]]>><</button>>

The thought of wine alleviating some of the headache plaguing my skull is not an unwelcome one. "See?" Pec says. "You're already smiling!" Might as well get a drinking problem on top of everything else. <<button [["Continue"|c8_antonia]]>><</button>>

Antonia peeks through the doorway, giving me a wide grin. She’s lost another tooth quite recently. “Hi there!” she chirps. Before I can ask, she says, “I came to fetch you for the boring temple thing.” \<<if $camilla_bath is true>> “Aunt Camilla told me to.” “She did?” I frown. She wants me to join her? “Yes. And she didn’t even insult you when she asked me.” “How nice of her.” “Too much, I mean. She did tell me I could beat you with a stick if you were still sleeping.” “Why, of course.” \<<elseif $marcus_bath is true>> “Uncle told me to.” “Marcus?” I scoff involuntarily. “Yes, that one.” She imitates my scoff and rolls her eyes. \<<elseif $niall_bath is true>> “Uncle told me to. Not the asshole.” “So, not Marcus… Niall?” “Yes, that one.” She smiles brightly. \<<elseif $tinsae_bath is true>> “Aunt Tinsae told me to. She told me to sing you a little song if you were still sleeping.” She sighs in clear relief. “Thank Saturn you’re awake.” <</if>>\ The other soldiers in the room look at me with curious eyes. \<<if $camilla_bath is true>> It’s not every day the Legate’s wife herself invites you to the Saturnalia festivities. She’s being careless. Why? \<<elseif $marcus_bath is true>> I sigh. Of course Marcus doesn’t care that the rumors about us are starting to spread. I really don’t need this. \<<elseif $niall_bath is true>> It’s unusual for the commanding officer to invite his soldier to Saturnalia festivities. Niall is usually more careful than this. At least he acts like that. I don’t know if he expected that no one would be here. \<<elseif $tinsae_bath is true>> It’s unusual for someone like Tinsae to invite a mere soldier to Saturnalia festivities. Thankfully, nothing dangerous will happen if they know. That doesn’t mean they won’t bully me for this. Great. <</if>> <<button[[Continue|c8_boot]]>><</button>>

Well, not everyone is interested. Brick doesn’t care. He gives me a look that says he couldn’t give two shits about whom I’m involved with, and continues to get dressed. Thanks, Brick. Pec peeks his head from the doorframe. “You fucking that one?” Floyd snarls immediately at the sound of the dirty word. “Mind your language, there’s a child right next to you.” Pec looks at the said child beside him as if just realizing she’s there. Antonia shrugs as a greeting. Pec frowns. He reframes his question and tries again, “I mean… You making sweet love to that one?” Floyd throws a shoe at him – a leather boot with hobnails. It misses, barely. Pec laughs maniacally as he flees. Floyd groans and looks at me. “Just leave before he comes back. Avoid him when he’s drunk, if you can.” <<button [[Continue|c8_antonia1]]>><</button>>

Antonia gives me a meaningful look before we depart. She doesn’t ask about the details of <<if $camilla_bath is true>>Camilla's<<elseif $marcus_bath is true>>Marcus's<<elseif $niall_bath is true>>Niall's<<elseif $tinsae_bath is true>>Tinsae's<</if>>relationship. It’s much appreciated, even if there’s barely anything to tell. “What do you mean by a boring temple thing?” I ask. It will be another dull Roman religious ceremony, no doubt. “Where they kill the ox and stuff. And mutter to themselves. And to Saturn, of course,” she hastily adds. “Sounds thrilling.” “It’s the most boring part of Saturnalia but you have to be there to show respect for Saturn. He might strike you down otherwise.” “I doubt they would strike you down for that.” “You never know. I’m not a gambling woman,” she says with a serious frown on her small face. The words of an adult make me smile inwardly. <<button [["I’m not thrilled about the ox killing part," I admit.|c8_animal]]>><</button>> <<button [[Ask her about her plans for today.|c8_antoniaplans]]>><</button>>

\<<set $animal_lover to true>> Animal sacrifices are something I’m used to by now but it never gets easy. When I do it, I try to comfort them as best as I can. When I’m not in control of the situation, it feels different. More cruel. She frowns. “I know. Me neither.” Silence falls between us as she ponders on her next words. “But at least the ox had a good life. Not all animals do.” Again, she thinks on her words. This is an important topic for her. “At least that’s what ma says when I’m sad about that.” “That’s a small grace, yes. Your mother is right.” She smiles with pride. “My ma is as bright as the stars in the night sky.” “Poetic.” “Uncle says I have a knack for it.” “For once, your uncle is right.” She giggles in agreement. <<if $camilla_bath is true>> <<button [[We go outside.|c8_camillaoutside]]>><</button>> <<elseif $marcus_bath is true>> <<button [[We go outside.|c8_marcusoutside]]>><</button>> <<elseif $niall_bath is true>> <<button [[We go outside.|c8_nialloutside]]>><</button>> <<elseif $tinsae_bath is true>> <<button [[We go outside.|c8_tinsaeoutside]]>><</button>> <</if>>

“So, what do children do during Saturnalia?” “I love food. And presents.” “In that order?” “I’m not sure…” She frowns, pondering on my question as if it means a lot to her. “I really like peppered honey cake. But I also like presents.” “It sounds like they’re equally as important to you.” “Yes. Exactly that.” She nods firmly in agreement. “I asked for a doll and I was searching the house a little…” She gives me a quick look, seemingly wondering if she can trust me. “They tried to hide it but I found it in the cellar. I know I will get one.” “Is it one of those that can move their limbs?” “Uh-huh!” She smiles. “I can’t wait!” She rubs her little hands together in anticipation. I used to be as eager during the Winter Solstice. Not necessarily for the presents but for the food. Oh, the food. <<if $camilla_bath is true>> <<button [[We go outside.|c8_camillaoutside]]>><</button>> <<elseif $marcus_bath is true>> <<button [[We go outside.|c8_marcusoutside]]>><</button>> <<elseif $niall_bath is true>> <<button [[We go outside.|c8_nialloutside]]>><</button>> <<elseif $tinsae_bath is true>> <<button [[We go outside.|c8_tinsaeoutside]]>><</button>> <</if>>

Camilla waits for us in the courtyard. She’s in a bad mood, as usual. However, this time her bad mood oozes from her very pores, I can see it from afar. “Is she alright?” I ask Antonia. She gives me a deadly serious look. Antonia beckons me to bend over, she has something to whisper in my ear. “Aunt is in a bad mood. Something’s happened.” “Isn’t she always in a bad mood?” “Yes. But something’s different. She seems… Worried.” Antonia gives me a quick frown, she’s clearly concerned. And if it’s enough to make Antonia worried… “Took you long enough,” Camilla snaps at me. \<<if $fire is true>> “You should be happy that I’m here at all,” I snap back. She scoffs but doesn’t disagree. Instead, she gives me a small, lopsided smile. Or maybe it’s a grimace, it’s difficult to say with her. She looks like the facial movement gives her physical pain. \<<elseif $earth is true>> I give her a dead stare. And she stares right back at me. \<<elseif $air is true>> I sigh and let the insult flow through me as if it's not even there. \<<elseif $water is true>> I sigh. "You don't have to lash out at me for having a bad day." She squints her eyes at me. "I'm not–" <</if>>\ “I’ll be off now, Aunt.” But, before Antonia leaves, she hesitates. She looks at Camilla one more time before asking, “Are you sad?” A brief moment of silence ensues as Camilla seemingly ponders on her answer. “No, not sad,” she finally says. “Don’t worry about it, little spider.” Antonia doesn’t look convinced but as Camilla remains silent, she gives up. <<button [[Continue.|c8_camilla_angry]]>><</button>>

Marcus gives me a grin when he sees me. “Look who decided to wake up.” <<button [[“Look whose face makes me wish I didn’t.”|c8_marcusface]]>><</button>> <<button [[“How do you cope with him as your uncle?” I ask Antonia.|c8_marcuscope]]>><</button>> <<button [[Remain silent.|c8_marcussilent]]>><</button>>

Niall gives me a bright smile when he sees us approaching. “Good job, Antonia,” he says and rubs her head like she was a little dog. Antonia doesn’t seem to mind too much but she’s clearly expecting something else on top of head rubs. “Right.” Niall clears his throat and gives his little messenger a silver coin for her troubles. I raise my brow at the coin. Her services seem a bit overpriced. “Good doing business with you,” she says in an overly professional way as she shoves the coin away in her cloak. “Have a nice day, uncle. You too, Hati.” She throws me a quick, genuine smile before scurrying away with her little dress billowing in the air behind her. “She won’t join us?” I ask. “Her mother is expecting her.” “Couldn’t you just fetch me yourself?” I cross my arms. Well, that would’ve most likely been even more suspicious. “I’m not lazy.” He’s quick to defend himself. “She wanted to see you. She likes you.” “For whatever reason,” I add. “You’re easy to like,” he says with a small smile. <<button [[Oh. I clear my throat.|c8_niallclearthroat]]>><</button>> <<button [[“That I am.”|c8_package]]>><</button>>

Tinsae gives me a warm smile when she sees me. “Thank you, little Juno,” she says to her little messenger. “No problem, Auntie.” “A hug?” she asks Antonia. “Of course!” she chirps and surrenders to Tinsae’s tight embrace. Tinsae kisses the crown of her small head. “Promise me you’ll have fun tonight.” “I will.” She smiles before giving me a quick glance. She whispers something in Tinsae’s ear. Tinsae giggles in a conspiratory fashion and they both look at me. “What?” I can’t help but to ask. “Nothing! Anyway, I need to go,” Antonia says with a small grin and scurries off. “What did she say?” I ask again. “I believe she implied that I should marry you. She’d like you to be her uncle.” \<<if (($sex is "female") or ($gender is "nonbinary") or ($gender is "transwoman"))>> She gives me a quick, apologetic look. “Of course, she doesn’t know about your real gender.” <</if>> <<button [[“Are we going to get married now?” I jest.|c8_tinsaeawkward]]>><</button>> <<button [[Remain silent.|c8_tinsaesilent]]>><</button>> <<button [['"Maybe that’s a little soon. We have to disappoint her."'|c8_tinsadisappoint]]>><</button>>

“Fine.” She sighs. “But I still want my payment.” “As you should.” Camilla gives her a silver coin. “Good doing business with you,” she says in an overly professional way as she shoves the coin away in her cloak. “Have a nice day, Aunt. Try not to pout. You too, Hati.” She throws me a quick, genuine smile before scurrying away with her little dress billowing in the air behind her. “‘Try not to pout’?” Camilla smirks after her. “You are pouting more than usual.” She gives me an unreadable look. There’s fear and weariness in her gaze but soon enough, anger and darkness take over her features once more. \<<if $camilla_plan is true>> “Do you still have the key to my house?” she suddenly asks, glancing at me with suspicion. “Yes. I haven’t yet had the chance to–” “So you haven’t used it?” “No. What’s with the–” She looks like she doesn’t believe me. She’s about to snap again but a pleasant voice disturbs the quarrel that was about to erupt. <</if>>\ “Greetings, friends.” I turn to look at Tinsae smiling at us. Then, when her gaze lands on Camilla, worry takes over her features. “Is something the matter?” Camilla purses her lips. She’s clearly trying not to say something. Finally, she says, “I’m fine. Stop asking. Let’s just go.” She starts walking towards the temple district, leaving Tinsae and I watching her receding back. Tinsae asks, “Do you know what’s wrong with her?” \<<if $dummy is true>> “The usual? Isn’t she always like that?” Tinsae lets out a light laugh but there’s no joy in the sound. She seems actually worried. \<<else>> “Something’s happened. It doesn’t seem like her usual antics.” “No,” Tinsae agrees, deep in thought. “It really doesn’t.” <</if>>\ “Oh, right, I forgot. Io Saturnalia, darling,” she says with a smile. “Io Saturnalia.” “Happy Winter Solstice? Or what is it that your people celebrate?” “Something like that. The dates don’t match but I’ll find a way to celebrate it my way.” “Good. Let me know if I can help.” With that, we start catching up on Camilla. <<button [[I'd rather be with Quinn, though.|c8_quinnsolo]]>><</button>> <<button [[I'm worried about Camilla.|c8_worriedcamilla]]>><</button>>

Tinsae lets out a laugh but it sounds a little more forced than before. “I’m afraid we’ll have to disappoint Antonia for now.” \<<if $tinsae_hurt is true>> A slight frown tries to invade my features. I was just joking, she must know that. Why does the mere thought make her sound so disturbed? “I was only kidding.” “I know.” She lets out a slightly uncomfortable laugh. Hearing it makes me frown deeper. \<<else>> “I would be able to get to your riches that way.” She laughs more freely. “Antonia gets an uncle, you’ll get money, what do I get?” “A dashing trophy spouse, of course.” Another, an even brighter laughter follows my words. “Why, of course!” She gives my cheek a light caress. “The most dashing of them all.” Her dark eyes glimmer in the morning sun. <</if>>\ <<button [["What are you giggling about?" A familiar, stern voice asks.|c8_tinsaecamilla]]>><</button>>

She gives me an awkward giggle. “I’m afraid we’ll have to disappoint Antonia for now.” “I’m sure she’ll manage.” “I’m sure.” <<button [["What are you giggling about?” A familiar, stern voice asks.|c8_tinsaecamilla]]>><</button>>

Tinsae smiles in relief. “Yes, well. She still has her actual uncles.” “Hm. Poor Antonia.” “Hey,” Tinsae says, laughing lightly. “Niall is a good uncle, if not a little gullible.” “I’ll tell him you called him gullible.” “No!” she raises her voice uncharacteristically high, making me chuckle. “I mean… No, please don’t.” <<button [["What are you giggling about?" A familiar, stern voice asks.|c8_tinsaecamilla]]>><</button>>

Camilla looks at us with a deep frown on her face. If looks could kill, both of us would be dead by now. Venom oozes from her gaze, from her very pores. <<button [['"Did you get up on the wrong side of the bed?"'|c8_camillawrongside]]>><</button>> <<button [['"Are you... Alright?"'|c8_youalrightcamilla?]]>><</button>> <<button [[Move behind Tinsae to shield myself from Camilla’s anger.|c8_behindtinsae]]>><</button>> <<button [[Remain silent and look at Tinsae.|c8_tinsaesilent]]>><</button>>

Niall frowns at the sound of my throat, as if suddenly realizing what came out of his own mouth. “You are,” he says defiantly. Familiar redness creeps onto his cheeks but he stands his ground. “You are kind and fair and–” \<<if (($psycho is true) and ($marcus_punch is true))>> Someone starts laughing uncontrollably at Niall’s kind words. “Kind!” I turn to Marcus behind me, crying like he heard the best joke in the world. I give him a dead stare. "Yes, kind!" Niall jumps in my defense. Then, he gives me a hesitant look. “As kind as he can be, given the circumstances.” “He broke my nose.” “Good.” Niall nods at me, almost proudly. “You deserved it.” Marcus frowns and tries to object but falls silent. His nose seems to have healed. Heh. The grin on his face turns into a frown and, seemingly instinctively, he gently touches his nose. It makes me grin. “What do you want?” I ask. “I wanted to join your little excursion, of course.” \<<elseif (($psycho is true) and ($marcus_punch isnot true))>> Someone starts laughing uncontrollably at Niall’s kind words. “Kind!” I turn to Marcus behind me, crying like he heard the best joke in the world. I give him a dead stare. "Yes, kind!" Niall jumps in my defense. Then, he gives me a hesitant look. “As kind as he can be, given the circumstances.” “He looks like he’s ready to tear my limbs off. Look at him.” Niall nods. “But he doesn’t. Anyway, why are you here?” “I wanted to join your little excursion, of course.” \<<elseif $determined is true>> “Kind?” Someone awfully familiar laughs at Niall’s words. “He always looks at me like he’s ready to tear my limbs off.” And I turn to see Marcus grinning at us. “What do you want?” I ask with a sigh. “To join your little excursion, of course.” \<<elseif $manipulated is true>> “Kind?” Someone awfully familiar laughs at Niall’s words. “Don’t let his placid demeanor fool you, brother, he might still kill you in your sleep.” And I turn to see Marcus grinning at us. “What do you want?” I ask with a sigh. “To join your little excursion, of course.” <</if>>\ \<<if $marcus_angry_kiss is true>> Then, to my absolute horror, Marcus winks at me. Oh gods, he thinks our angry kiss meant something. No, he’s just taking a piss at me. And he almost managed. Niall’s frown deepens at our non-verbal exchange. <</if>>\ Marcus gives his brother a small smile. “I presume it doesn’t bother you, right? You’re just friends, after all.” “Yes. No.” Niall almost groans at the stumbling of the words. “Yes, we’re just friends.” “Excellent,” Marcus says and shoves his unwanted self into our entourage. <<button [[I'm not happy about this. I wanted to spend time alone with Niall.|c8_niallsolo]]>><</button>> <<button [[I sigh inwardly. Fine. Let’s just get this over with.|c8_niallLT]]>><</button>> <<button [[I don't care either way. I'd rather be with Quinn.|c8_quinnsolo]]>><</button>>

Niall chuckles at my words. “Confident, too. The whole package.” I raise my brow at him. “I mean…” He clears his throat. “For someone who’d want your package.” “My package?” “Oh, gods. I mean– Let’s just go.” “You two are spending more time together?” An awfully familiar voice asks. “Should I be jealous?” And I turn to see Marcus grinning at us. \<<if $marcus_punch is true>> The grin on his face turns into a frown and, seemingly instinctively, he gently touches his nose. It makes me grin. “What do you want?” I ask. “I wanted to join your little excursion, of course.” \<<else>> “What do you want?” I ask, thoroughly annoyed to see his face. “Rude,” he says but doesn’t seem actually bothered. “To join your little excursion, of course.” <</if>>\ \<<if $marcus_angry_kiss is true>> Then, to my absolute horror, Marcus winks at me. Oh gods, he thinks our angry kiss meant something. No, he’s just taking a piss at me. And he almost managed. Niall’s frown deepens at our non-verbal exchange. <</if>>\ Marcus gives his brother a small smile. “I presume it doesn’t bother you, right? You’re just friends, after all.” “Yes. No.” Niall almost groans at the stumbling of the words. “Yes, we’re just friends.” “Excellent,” Marcus says and shoves his unwanted self into our entourage. <<button [[I'm not happy about this. I wanted to spend time alone with Niall.|c8_niallsolo]]>><</button>> <<button [[I sigh inwardly. Fine. Let’s just get this over with.|c8_niallLT]]>><</button>> <<button [[I don't care either way. I'd rather be with Quinn.|c8_quinnsolo]]>><</button>>

\<<set $niall_soloroute to true>> Niall senses my annoyance, giving me a quick, hesitant look. “Are you alright?” he asks. “Of course he’s alright,” Marcus says. “Look at him.” I frown. “See? He always looks sour like that.” Niall frowns with me. Marcus groans. “Gods, you’re boring. Let’s just go.” “Do we have to go with him?” I ask Niall just barely when Marcus is out of earshot. Niall gives me an apologetic smile. “He can be difficult. We’ll figure out something…” <<button [[Continue|c8_ritual]]>><</button>>

\<<set $lovetriangleroute to true>> Marcus gives me a quick grin. “You’re not saying you don’t want me with.” “It should go without saying,” I remark dryly. “Should it?” Niall cuts in, “It really should.” “I still hear no objections,” Marcus says and starts walking toward the temple district. Niall gives me a quick, hesitant look. “Are you alright?” he asks. I nod. I’m not sure if I am but I still nod. He gives me a quick, reassuring smile. “Bear with me. You’ll have fun in the evening.” We’ll see about that. <<button [[Continue|c8_ritual]]>><</button>>

\<<set $quinn_soloroute to true>> I wonder what $q_he’s doing today? Is $q_he lighting up a bonfire in the forest? Eating cookies in the mill? Dying in a ditch somewhere? Why isn’t $q_he here? \<<if (($niall_bath is true) or ($marcus_bath is true))>> I just realize that Niall’s looking at me with a concerned frown on his face. “Would you rather go alone?” he asks, reading me just right. “It’s fine. Let’s just go.” \<<elseif (($camilla_bath is true) or ($tinsae_bath is true))>> Tinsae gives me a worried glance. "Do you need to be elsewhere? I can handle Camilla if you'd rather– “It’s fine. Let’s just go.” <</if>>\ <<button [[Continue|c8_ritual]]>><</button>>

Angry she may be, but her hostility has been more subdued before. And it’s never been directed this clearly at me. Or Tinsae, for that matter. Did I do something? Does she think I did? Whatever it is, she doesn’t seem to want to hear reason. <<button [[Continue|c8_ritual]]>><</button>>

The temple yard is packed with people chattering happily despite the freezing wind. Little fires litter the yard and fill the cold air with smoke. \<<if (($camilla_bath is true) or ($tinsae_bath is true))>> Camilla refused to speak to us the whole walk there and she’s still holding a grudge. Tinsae gives my questioning gaze a light shrug. \<<elseif (($marcus_bath is true) or ($niall_bath is true))>> The walk was surprisingly peaceful, neither man spoke too much. There’s tension in the air, something unresolved. <</if>>\ The scent of incense fills the air as the breeze dies out just as the ritual is starting. I sense no divine intervention but I can’t claim to know the will of Roman gods. Maybe it was Saturn making sure that the start of his celebration runs as smoothly as possible. The thought makes me tighten my cloak. The Twins haven’t looked kindly upon me partaking in other deities’ ceremonies before. \<<if $quinn_soloroute is true>> I miss Quinn. <<button [[Continue.|c8_quinnritual]]>><</button>> \<<elseif (($camilla_bath is true) or ($tinsae_bath is true))>> <<button [[Tinsae gives my shoulder a light touch.|c8_tinsaecamillaritual]]>><</button>> \<<elseif (($marcus_soloroute is true) or ($lovetriangleroute is true))>> <<button [[Marcus notices my movement and gives me a curious look.|c8_marcusritual]]>><</button>> \<<elseif $niall_soloroute is true>> <<button [[Marcus notices my movement and gives me a curious look.|c8_niallritual]]>><</button>> <</if>>\

Her gaze darts to me with such hostility I almost take a step back. Alright, she’s not in the mood for jokes. She’s never in the mood for jokes but this day seems even more serious. Tinsae reaches for Camilla, trying to soothe her. Camilla, however, flinches away. “Don’t. I’m fine.” “Alright,” Tinsae says, trying to calm Camilla’s raging emotions with placating hands. “I understand. Did you want to come with us to the ritual?” <<button [[Continue|c8_wannacomewith?]]>><</button>>

She seems to be more on edge than usual. “Nothing,” she barks out. Evidently, something is wrong. Tinsae gives me a quick glance to agree with my assessment. Tinsae reaches for Camilla, trying to soothe her. Camilla, however, flinches away. “Don’t. I’m fine.” “Alright,” Tinsae says, trying to calm Camilla’s raging emotions with placating hands. “I understand. Did you want to come with us to the ritual?” <<button [[Continue|c8_wannacomewith?]]>><</button>>

Tinsae is more used to her friend’s hateful stare than me. Let her handle it. “Really, druid? Hiding behind Tinsae like a scared child?” There’s slowly igniting anger in Tinsae’s voice when she says, “You are acting with immense hostility, Camilla. Do not take it out on Hati.” Tinsae reaches for her, perhaps trying to soothe her anger. Camilla, however, flinches away. “Don’t. I’m fine.” “Alright,” Tinsae says, trying to calm Camilla’s raging emotions with placating hands. “I understand. Did you want to come with us to the ritual?” <<button [[Continue|c8_wannacomewith?]]>><</button>>

“It’s not that bad, is it?” he asks with a smirk, touching his jaw. “Stop flirting in front of me, it’s embarrassing,” Antonia’s displeased voice makes me blink. “Flirt? I’m not–” “You were flirting?” Marcus gasps in mocking surprise. Antonia groans. “Stop it and give me my payment, you old fool.” Marcus purses his lips in displeasure, probably because of the ‘old’ part of Antonia’s groaning. <<button [[Continue|c8_marcusbusiness]]>><</button>>

Marcus cocks his brow at me. “Stunned into silence?” “He just wishes he didn’t come here to see your ugly face,” Antonia says dryly. Marcus starts laughing. “Why did you drag Hati here if I’m so horrible?” “Because I want my money,” Antonia answers. “You sold Hati out for a mere copper–” “Silver,” Antonia corrects him. Marcus scoffs. “Silver? Your services are expensive.” “You wanted the best, you’ll pay for it,” Antonia says in her most professional-sounding voice like the true, friend-selling mercenary she is. <<button [[Continue|c8_marcusbusiness]]>><</button>>

Antonia sighs dramatically. “You don’t know half of it.” “Hey,” Marcus says with a frown. “I’m right here.” “And both of us wish you weren’t,” Antonia strikes back. Marcus starts laughing. “Why did you drag Hati here then?” “Because I want my money,” Antonia answers. “You sold Hati out for a mere copper–” “Silver,” Antonia corrects him. Marcus scoffs. “Silver? Your services are expensive.” “You wanted the best, you’ll pay for it,” Antonia says in her most professional-sounding voice like the true, friend-selling mercenary she is. <<button [[Continue|c8_marcusbusiness]]>><</button>>

“Good doing business with you,” she says in an overly professional way as she shoves the coin away in her cloak. “Have a nice day, uncle. You too, Hati. As nice as you can with him,” she says under her breath. She throws me a quick, genuine smile before scurrying away with her little dress billowing in the air behind her. Then, we’re left alone. Marcus gives me a small glance. When he notices I saw it, he grins. “I’m surprised you wanted to take part in a Roman religious tradition.” “You know how much love I harbor for everything Roman,” I remark dryly. He chuckles. <<button [['"I'm just waiting for the evening. I want food."'|c8_marcusfood]]>><</button>> <<button [['"I really don’t know why I’m here. I should probably go back to the barracks."'|c8_marcusback]]>><</button>>

“Ah, yes. I should probably cut your rations. We don’t want you to roll down the hill like a barrel at the enemy.” “Very funny. Hilarious, even.” “I aim to please,” he says with a cheeky grin. “The food will be good, though. Father knows how to throw a party.” There’s a sense of bite in his words. <<button [[Continue|c8_marcusniallarrives]]>><</button>>

“Hey now,” Marcus says and grabs my shoulder. \<<if $fire is true>> “Unhand me, you murderer,” I hiss through my teeth. He quickly lets go of me. <<button [[Continue.|c8_turmoilmarcus]]>><</button>> \<<elseif $earth is true>> I look at the hand on my shoulder and he quickly lets go of me. <<button [[Continue|c8_marcusniallarrives]]>><</button>> \<<elseif $air is true>> I look at the hand on my shoulder. He dares to touch me without my consent? The mere thought is abhorrent. He quickly lets me go. <<button [[Continue|c8_marcusniallarrives]]>><</button>> \<<elseif $water is true>> “Please don’t touch me,” I say with a frown. He quickly lets go of me. <<button [[Continue.|c8_turmoilmarcus]]>><</button>> <</if>>\

I turn to the voice of someone clearing their throat. Niall stands there in his rose-colored tunic and a purple cloak. He clears his throat again and looks away when our eyes meet. “Hello,” he says. "Hello?" I say. I expect him to elaborate whe he's here. But he doesn’t. He just stands there. He shifts his weight on his legs and looks at the sky, as if there’s something utterly important to see. Finally, he says, “Do you need company for the ritual, Hati?” Marcus scoffs. “Aren’t you scared shitless about being seen with him?” “One of us has to worry, since you don’t seem to care,” Niall shoots back. He breathes out and turns to ask me, “Can I come with you?” <<button [["Sure, I don't mind." At all, actually. (love triangle route)|c8_lovetriangleroute]]>><</button>> <<button [[I find myself wanting to be alone with Marcus.|c8_solomarcus]]>><</button>> <<button [[I don't care either way. I would rather be here with Quinn.|c8_quinnsolo]]>><</button>>

Marcus notices my movement and gives me a curious look. “Afraid Saturn will strike you down like the heretic you are?” “No. I’m cold.” I’m not giving him the satisfaction of reading me right. Besides, it’s not Saturn I’m worried about. After the blessing, I’ve felt the Twins’ presence in the air, everywhere I go. They’re here, watching me. I doubt they’d care but still, something squeezes my heart tighter. “Want my cloak?” he asks. “No.” “Are we going through with this again?” “We’re in public,” I remind him. “Are you in the habit of giving your freezing soldiers the cloak off your back?” That’s a surefire way to spread rumors and get me killed. Not that he cares, apparently. \<<if (($niall_the_oaf is true) and ($lovetriangleroute is true))>> Niall clears his throat. He doesn’t know about my identity but he seems worried about me nonetheless. <<button [[I wish I would've told him.|c8_wishtold]]>><</button>> <<button [[I’m not sure I can trust him to keep the secret.|c8_niallbadatsecrets]]>><</button>> \<<elseif (($niall_the_oaf is true) and ($lovetriangleroute is true) and ($marcus_sex is true))>> <<button [[It just never came up. I was… preoccupied.|c8_marcussexthought]]>><</button>> \<<elseif (($niall_the_oaf is true) and ($lovetriangleroute isnot true))>> Niall clears his throat. He doesn’t know about my identity but he seems worried about me nonetheless. <<button [[The crowd falls silent.|c8_crowd]]>><</button>> \<<else>> Niall clears his throat. “I have to agree. You’re constantly endangering Hati’s life. You should care about his well-being more.” Marcus frowns, as if his brother’s words finally cut through to him. But instead of agreeing, he just looks away. <<button [[The crowd falls silent.|c8_crowd]]>><</button>> <</if>>

“Is everything alright? Do you want to leave?” Niall asks with a concerned frown. “If you’re cold, we can go to a tavern and drink some mulled wine and–” “I’m fine, Niall.” <<button [['"Thank you, anyway. For taking care of me."'|c8_thanksniall]]>><</button>> <<button [["I’m cold, yes. I want your cloak," I say with a sneaky smile.|c8_sneakyniall]]>><</button>> <<button [[Remain silent.|c8_silentniall]]>><</button>>

Tinsae gives my shoulder a light touch. She smiles in understanding. “I’m sure your gods won’t mind.” I let out a small, unamused laugh. They will mind, the problem is how much. After the blessing, I’ve felt their presence in the air, everywhere I go. They’re here, watching me. Tinsae takes my hand and gives it a small, encouraging squeeze. Camilla’s gaze, however, is glued on the spot where the ox will be sacrificed. Her knuckles are white from squeezing her fists too tightly. <<button [[“Do you want to go home?” I ask her.|c8_camillahome?]]>><</button>> <<button [[Ignore her.|c8_camillaignore]]>><</button>>

Instead of loathing, as I expected, she throws me a look of fear. “You can talk to me,” I whisper, looking around the crowd. The place is not ideal for a heart-to-heart conversation. “I’m not safe there,” she whispers in what sounds like a spout of honesty. “I… Back off,” she hisses and moves away. I sigh at her hostile words. There’s no doubt about it, she’s afraid of something. \<<if $dummy isnot true>> Or, she’s acting. She’d be one hell of an actress. <</if>> <<button [[The crowd falls silent.|c8_crowd]]>><</button>>

If I asked, she’d just insult me more. I don’t really need that right now. <<button [[The crowd falls silent.|c8_crowd]]>><</button>>

It almost makes me feel bad that he’s still in the dark about me. He clearly has some feelings towards me, it feels like I’m fooling him. So much time has already passed that there’s no way he doesn’t feel left out by the news. I sigh. Great. <<button [[The crowd falls silent.|c8_crowd]]>><</button>>

I give Marcus a side glance and he grins at the sight of it. It’s as if he can smell when I think about him. Whether or not I wish I would’ve told Niall is irrelevant. So much time has already passed that there’s no way he won't feel left out by the news. I sigh. Great. <<button [[The crowd falls silent.|c8_crowd]]>><</button>>

A veiled man coming out of the temple. The priest of Saturn. The priest acolytes lead an ox behind them to the sacrificial altar. The crowd looks at the animal with a bated breath. If he refuses to be sacrificed willingly, it’s a bad omen. Especially for the celebration of the sowing of the first winter crops. The ox moos in annoyance when he’s pushed to move closer to the knife. He doesn’t seem to sense danger, though, and he’s still munching on a carrot he’s been offered beforehand to keep him satisfied. He trusts the people around him. They will break his trust soon enough. \<<if $animal_lover is true>> He’s a happy ox, you can see it from his shiny coat of fur, the way he looks at the people around him with trust in his eyes. At least he lived a happy life. That’s more than many animals or people can claim. I’m sorry for what they’ll do to you, friend. <</if>>\ The dagger flashes in the winter sun and the smell of blood fills the air. Pain splits through my brain like an ice pick. My feet almost give up and a pained groan leaves me. Crap, the headaches are getting worse. It's right at the back of my eyes. I should just go back to the barracks. I’m not sure why I’m here anyway. I open my eyes and see… \<<if $camilla_bath is true>> <<button [[Camilla.|c8_camillavision]]>><</button>> \<<elseif $tinsae_bath is true>> <<button [[Tinsae.|c8_tinsaevision]]>><</button>> \<<elseif (($niall_soloroute is true) or ($lovetriangleroute is true))>> <<button [[Niall.|c8_niallvision]]>><</button>> \<<elseif $marcus_soloroute is true>> <<button [[Marcus.|c8_marcusvision]]>><</button>> <</if>>

I made the right decision of not telling him. It’s enough that Marcus knows, I don’t want to worry about anyone else to blabber my secrets out. Sure, it seems that he has feelings towards me and it will only make things more complicated but… I need to take care of myself first. <<button [[The crowd falls silent.|c8_crowd]]>><</button>>

He gives me a warm smile, warm enough to battle against the winter breeze. “It’s my duty to take care of you,” he says with a warm smile. Then, he frowns at his own words. “I mean, as your commanding officer.” Right. Again with that. Marcus groans at our exchange. “Gods, it’s like listening to a bad play.” “Shut up,” Niall says and Marcus yelps in surprise. Evidently, Niall elbowed him. Quite hard, from the looks of it. <<button [[The crowd falls silent.|c8_crowd]]>><</button>>

“My… cloak?” He frowns and looks at the crowd of people around us. “I can’t just–” “I want to be embraced by your smell,” I say and look at him turn familiarly red. I’m just teasing him, of course. It’s the look on his face that makes me grin happily. He sighs. “You’re making fun of me.” “Yes. It’s too easy.” Marcus chimes in, “It really is.” Finally, we can agree on something. <<button [[The crowd falls silent.|c8_crowd]]>><</button>>

He opens his mouth but decides against saying anything. Instead, he shrinks to himself and tries to focus on looking at the ritual site. “By the gods, it’s like looking at a lovestruck puppy.” Marcus sighs. I give Marcus a death stare. <<button [[The crowd falls silent.|c8_crowd]]>><</button>>

There’s a golden wreath on her head. It digs into her skin and blood pours from the hundreds of little cuts on her head. Her eyes are black as the pit of the deepest ocean. Blood trickles from the corner of her mouth. When she opens her mouth, maggots crawl out, black as her eyes. They wriggle as they fall on the ground, turning to ash. There’s a dagger in her hand. In the end, didn’t I know she would be the end of me? “I knew it. Kill me, get it over with,” I say with a laugh. I try to take a step back but my body refuses to move. I can only watch as she plunges at me, thrusts her knife into my heart. I touch the smooth skin of her cheek and she twists the blade. <<button [[I blink.|c8_camillablink]]>><</button>>

Her white dress is soaked with blood. Just as I’m about to ask about it, I notice that her ribcage is open, her dress torn. Waves of blood pump out of her chest with the rhythm of her bared heart. Thu-thump. Thu-thump. I look at Tinsae’s eyes. They’re golden. There are no irises, they’re lifeless and ethereal. I can see my reflection, dark as a bottomless pit. She smiles gently and a blinding light makes me shield my eyes. I mutter a prayer to the darkness before my skin starts to peel, my blood starts to boil. I disintegrate. <<button [[I touch my face.|c8_tinsaevision2]]>><</button>>

He looks at me but he has no eyes. As I’m about to ask, I notice bloody roots hanging out of his feet, his hands. They’re torn, rot has eaten away their tips, they flung pitifully in the air, grasping at nothing. He raises his hand towards me. I try to move, to evade him but I can’t. He grabs my left arm. Roots start to slither along my skin, trying to penetrate it, find their new foundation. “Let me go,” I try to say but nothing comes out. Niall only smiles blindly at my voiceless plea. I look as the damaged roots start to devour my skin. When they’re through, they plunge deep inside my veins. Niall lets out a sigh of relief when he spreads through my system, making us one. I blink. “Hati, what’s wrong?” Niall still holds my hand. \<<if $fire is true>> “Let go of me!” I shout and yank my hand away from him easily. Too easily. \<<elseif $water is true>> “What are you doing to me? Let go of me!” I wheeze as I yank my hand away from his grasp. \<<elseif (($air is true) or ($earth is true))>> Instinctively and without a word, I yank my hand away from his grasp. I stifle the urge to punch the light out of him. This feels familiar. <</if>>\ That’s when I realize there are no roots keeping me in place. They’re not invading my veins, they’re– I look at Niall, whose face is a mess of concern and confusion. “I… Saw something,” I mutter to myself. I rub my face in annoyance. Just another visage. Another violent, disturbing visage. The visages are extremely hostile and everything about them always feels so real, I don’t think I will ever get used to it. What do I even do with this information? \<<if $chosen_one is true>> There must be a reason for my gift, there must be. Just because I can’t see it right now, doesn’t mean there isn’t one. I need to give this more thought. \<<elseif $believer is true>> My faith is a little shaken but it’s nothing I can’t shrug off. There is a reason for my visions, I’m sure of it. I just need to give this more thought. \<<elseif $doubter is true>> It feels more like a curse than a gift. No. No. I believe that the Twins have something greater in store for me. This is just part of their plan. <</if>> <<button [["Are you sure you're alright?" I hear Niall asking me.|c8_niallyoualright?]]>><</button>>

He’s turned to me and I almost ask what’s his problem. Then, a sword in his hand makes me ready my stance. Where did he get that? Is he finally going to kill me, in front of all these people? Am I going to lie on the ground with my blood pouring out like that ox? No. I’m not. You will not get me. I will kill you before you’ll kill me. I look at the blade in his hand and realize that he’s not holding it. It’s melted into the stub of his arm, it’s a part of it. I open my mouth to ask about it but nothing coherent comes out. Instead, I look at his face. His black eyes ooze dark red tar. His mouth twists into a voiceless howl of pain as he swings his arm at me. My body refuses to move. I can only watch as the blade sinks deep into my shoulder, almost severing my arm. He did it. He finally did it. I laugh. <<button [[“And laugh.”|c8_laughmarcus]]>><</button>>

It’s still there. It’s not gone. “Hati?” A careful question. Then, in a much more silent voice, “$name? Do you feel ill? Do you need help?” Tinsae looks at me when I open my eyes. Her dress is intact, she’s not blindingly bright anymore. “I–” No. Careful with words. It was one of the visions. Don’t give them more reason to doubt your sanity. I squeeze my eyes shut and nod. Yes, I’m fine. \<<if $chosen_one is true>> There must be a reason for my gift, there must be. Just because I can’t see it right now, doesn’t mean there isn’t one. I need to give this more thought. \<<elseif $believer is true>> My faith is a little shaken but it’s nothing I can’t shrug off. There is a reason for my visions, I’m sure of it. I just need to give this more thought. \<<elseif $doubter is true>> It feels more like a curse than a gift. No. No. I believe that the Twins have something greater in store for me. This is just part of their plan. <</if>>\ “Do you need a doctor?” Tinsae asks. “I have a friend who–” “No.” I quickly shake my head. I forgot to say it out loud that I’m fine. “I’m fine. It’s just… a headache.” I vaguely gesture at my head. I can’t tell them, they wouldn’t understand. Tinsae sighs in exasperation. She doesn’t believe me and her polite, smiling mask is starting to crack. With much willpower, she manages to conjure up a smile on her face. “Fine. You’re fine,” she repeats. “Just a headache?” <<button [[“Yes. Exactly.”|c8_tinsaelie]]>><</button>>

Tinsae sighs in exasperation. She doesn’t believe me and her polite, smiling mask is starting to crack. With much willpower, she manages to conjure up a smile on her face. “But you looked slightly…” “Unhinged,” Camilla adds helpfully. “Not how I would’ve put that but… Yes.” “I was numbed by the pain," I say. Tinsae frowns in concern. “Really?” She puts her warm hand against my forehead, as if checking for temperature. “If you need anything from me, let me know. Do you have medicine?” “Some, yes–” “You will be delivered more. Do not worry. Headaches can happen due to stress and–” Camilla groans. “And you believed that crap?” Tinsae takes a step away from me with a small frown aimed at her friend. “I can clearly see that $he’s not lying about the pain.” “$He’s lying through $his teeth. $He might as well be possessed by a demon for all we know.” “Hati’s not…” Tinsae gives me a quick glance. “I’m sure that’s not the case.” She didn’t sound as confident as I would’ve liked. Now they think I’m possessed. Great. “Yes. Exactly.” “That’s… Fine.” She tightens the cloak around her and looks at the sky, away from the ritual site, away from me and Camilla. Then, she gives me a more genuine smile. “Do you want to leave? If your headache is as bad as it seems…” “Yes, please.” <<button [[Continue.|c8_tinsaewalk]]>><</button>>

And when I stop laughing, I realize I’m not almost split in half anymore. Then, there’s Marcus, looking at me as if I’ve lost my mind completely. It’s a familiar look on his face by now. I sigh deeply and banish the last remnants of laughter. “Headache,” I quickly say as a defense. Just a headache. I rub my face in annoyance. Just another visage. Another violent, disturbing visage. The visages are extremely hostile and everything about them always feels so real, I don’t think I will ever get used to it. What do I even do with this information? Marcus is going to try and kill me, what else is new? \<<if $chosen_one is true>> There must be a reason for my gift, there must be. Just because I can’t see it right now, doesn’t mean there isn’t one. I need to give this more thought. \<<elseif $believer is true>> My faith is a little shaken but it’s nothing I can’t shrug off. There is a reason for my visions, I’m sure of it. I just need to give this more thought. \<<elseif $doubter is true>> It feels more like a curse than a gift. No. No. I believe that the Twins have something greater in store for me. This is just part of their plan. <</if>>\ “You’re in your head again,” Marcus says and I realize that I am. <<button [[I am. I should probably stop that.|c8_marcushead]]>><</button>>

“I need to go and lie down a bit. I…” He gives me a look of something unfamiliar. If I didn’t know better, I’d call it concern. Maybe he’s concerned if I start acting out due to whatever is plaguing me. Maybe he’s ready to put me down like a sick dog. “I need to lie down a bit. I have a headache,” I state overly clearly. I have a hundred needles poking at my skull at the moment, I don’t need to be interrogated about my condition, thank you very much. “Hati,” he says and the tone of it makes me frown in annoyance. As if there’s something wrong with me. “I’m fine. I have a headache, how many times do I have to say it? I’m going now. Bye.” I start walking back to the barracks. I didn’t feel like eating the meat of a sacrificed ox today, anyway. <<button [[Someone's running after me. Of course he'd follow me.|c8_marcusfollow]]>><</button>>

“Niall didn’t come?” I ask. “He wanted to. I told him it’s fine.” I mutter something and start walking again, uninterested in his company right now. Not after I just saw him hack me in half. “Look, moron,” he says and grabs my shoulder. The one he just split in the vision. Just as I’m ready to snap at him, he continues, “I know there’s something wrong with you... Your head.” He gestures at his head, as if it would make me follow the conversation more easily. “Are you calling me insane? I don’t have to listen to this–” “No, listen!” he says in a way that makes me halt my step. It has a weird tone to it. Anxiety. He continues, “If you…” He takes a breath, preparing to say something he clearly doesn’t want to say. “If you want me to send you away, I will.” “Send me away?” “Back to your home. Isn’t that what you want?” “You know I can’t leave without my–” “They’re on their way now. Tinsae found them. They were sold into a temple, probably because they heard about their druidic education.” “They’re… What?” “It should take a week. The roads are–” “What?” I ask despite hearing every single word he’s saying. They’re alive and they’re on their way back to me. “Were they mistreated?” “Not to my knowledge. Temples are usually one of the more preferable places for a child slave to be in. The thought of them being in the mines–” “Stop talking,” I say as relief washes over me. I don’t need to hear him vocalize my fears from the past months. Everything I’ve dreaded for is proved wrong. They’re alive and well. \<<if (($manipulated is true) and ($marcus_killer isnot true))>> I can finally go home. With the family I have left. <<button [["Thank you so much, Marcus." Tears of relief start to gather up to my eyes.|c8_thanksmarcuscry]]>><</button>> <<button [["Thank you so much, Marcus." Tears of relief try to start to gather up to my eyes but I stop them.|c8_thanksmarcusnocry]]>><</button>> <<button [['"I will go home. And you won't try to stop me?"'|c8_trytostopmarcus]]>><</button>> \<<elseif (($determined is true) and ($hesitant_revenge is true))>> But my joy is cut short when I realize the implication of their arrival. Oh no. They can’t come here, not yet. I can’t let them see what I will do. I need to kill… I look at Marcus. Him. I need to kill him. And his father. Before they get here. And I can’t get caught because I’m all they have. <<button [[Is that even what I want anymore?|c8_hesitantrevengemarcus]]>><</button>> \<<elseif (($determined is true) and ($hesitant_revenge isnot true))>> <<button [[This is bad. I have one week left to act.|c8_revengehurrymarcus]]>><</button>> \<<elseif (($manipulated is true) and ($marcus_killer is true))>> <<button [[This is bad. I have one week left to act.|c8_revengehurrymarcus]]>><</button>> <</if>>\

My chest is intact. Camilla looks at me. My hand still caresses her cheek. Instead of slapping my hand away, she stares at me. Her mouth is slightly ajar as she’s seemingly looking for her lost words. I let my hand stay there, as if afraid to move. It would break the spell she’s under. Finally, she blinks and glances around. People are looking at us, at my hand, at Camilla. The show we’re giving is even more interesting than the ritual taking place. A matriarch getting fondled by a random soldier out in the open. Camilla slaps my hand away. “We need to leave. Now,” she hisses. “I–” She doesn’t repeat herself. Instead, she starts walking away, grabbing Tinsae’s hand and dragging her with her. I quickly jog after them. <<button [[Continue.|c8_camillafollow]]>><</button>>

“How dare you start fondling me in front of everyone?” she says when we’re far enough from the crowd. <<button [[“You didn’t seem to mind.”|c8_camilladontmind]]>><</button>> <<button [['"I wasn't thinking straight. I'm sorry."'|c8_sorrycam]]>><</button>> <<button [[Remain silent.|c8_camillasilent]]>><</button>>

\<<if (($camilla_bath is true) or ($tinsae_bath is true))>> “Have you seen your friend around?” Tinsae asks, her smile strained. “No.” The lie leaves me easily. $q_He’s around at this very moment, I can feel $q_his presence. After the blessing, I’ve started to sense when $q_he's nearby. Tinsae’s tense shoulders relax slightly. She gives me a small smile. It’s unclear whether she believes me or not but that seems unimportant. Camilla, instead, gives me a look that tells me she knows I’m lying. Tinsae continues, “We’re just worried about–” <<button [["Don't."|c8_dontbetinsae]]>><</button>> <<button [["Thank you. I appreciate it."|c8_thankstinsaequinn]]>><</button>> \<<elseif (($niall_bath is true) or ($marcus_bath is true))>> “Have you seen the little creep around?” Marcus asks. I frown at the question. “You can’t just call Hati’s friend a creep,” Niall cuts in. Marcus raises his brow. “You’ve seen $q_him, right?” “Well–” Niall clears his throat. “Yes. But we don’t know $q_him. $q_He might be a lovely person to know.” I look around the crowd as they’re talking. I swear I can sense $q_his presence somewhere close. After the blessing, I’ve started to sense $q_him when $q_he’s nearby. Then, I see someone familiar in the crowd. Far away from the crowd, looking in a different direction than the others. My heart sighs in relief. Just who I wanted to see. Without saying goodbye, without uttering another word, I start walking towards Quinn. <<button [[Like a moth to a flame.|c8_mothquinn]]>><</button>> <</if>>

Tinsae halts her tongue with a small frown. Camilla cuts in, “You rude son of a bitch, she’s worried about you.” “You don’t need to be worried about me. Neither of you.” I don’t even know what I’m doing here. I haven’t seen Quinn for a couple of days. It always makes me a little worried. Then, I see someone familiar in the crowd. Far away from the crowd, looking in a different direction than the others. My heart sighs in relief. Just who I wanted to see. Without saying goodbye, without uttering another word, I start walking towards Quinn. <<button [[Like a moth to a flame.|c8_mothquinn]]>><</button>>

I give them both a small, polite smile. I don’t mind their company but it’s not where I’d rather be. I haven’t seen Quinn for a couple of days. It always makes me a little worried. Then, I see someone familiar in the crowd. Far away from the crowd, looking in a different direction than the others. My heart sighs in relief. Just who I wanted to see. Without saying goodbye, without uttering another word, I start walking towards Quinn. <<button [[Like a moth to a flame.|c8_mothquinn]]>><</button>>

“Oh, hello,” Quinn says, utterly unsurprised to see me here. “Fancy seeing you.” “You’re not here for the ritual?” Judging by the gasps from the crowd, the ox met his bloody fate. “I wanted to see you,” $q_he says a little sheepishly. “Why didn’t you come and get me?” “I loathe your friends.” Right. “I feel your eyes on me constantly,” I say. It’s true. There’s the distinct feeling of being watched everywhere I go. “Not constantly,” $q_he denies my claims playfully. “I’m making sure you’re alright.” <<button [['"Please don't do that."'|c8_quinndontstalk]]>><</button>> <<button [['"Or are you making sure I'll act according to our plans?"'|c8_quinntrust?]]>><</button>> <<button [["That's... nice." I suppose.|c8_quinnnice?]]>><</button>> <<button [[At least Quinn is watching over me. That’s a comforting thought.|c8_quinncomforting?]]>><</button>>

“Don’t make sure you’re alright?” “I want my privacy.” “Oh,” $q_he says, as if it’s the first time $q_he’s ever thought about that. “From me?” When I nod in confirmation, $q_he frowns. “I see. I’ll try not to watch over you so much, then.” $q_He mutters something to $q_himself. It sounds like 'that much'. <<button [['"How do you always find me?"'|c8_quinnhowfind?]]>><</button>>

“Something like that,” $q_he admits. “Don’t you trust me?” “Trust?” $q_He looks at the sky. “I guess I do?” $q_He rethinks $q_his words. “I’ve never trusted anyone save for…” The sentence cuts off and $q_he brushes it off with a wide grin. “But I trust you to be wise and act accordingly.” $q_He nods, as if the matter is settled. “What were you going to say?” “Nothing. Anyway, not important.” <<button [['"How do you always find me?"'|c8_quinnhowfind?]]>><</button>>

“Yes,” $q_he says. “I’m glad you see it that way. Someone has to watch over you to make sure you won’t get yourself in trouble.” “Sure.” <<button [['"How do you always find me?"'|c8_quinnhowfind?]]>><</button>>

I can’t help but to let a small smile curl up my lips. It’s difficult to feel lonely nowadays, when I know that $q_he’s always there watching me. Making sure I’m alright. Quinn nods, $q_his shoulders relaxing. “I thought you were going to make it an issue.” “Why?” “I don’t know. But it’s good that you didn’t!” $q_He gives me a quick, tight hug. $q_His face is free of worries when $q_he looks at me. <<button [['"How do you always find me?"'|c8_quinnhowfind?]]>><</button>>

I’ve been meaning to ask that for a while now. $q_He always knows where I am but I don’t know where $q_he is. “I can smell you.” “You can… what?” “Uh-huh.” $q_He takes a good sniff at me. “You smell like home. I just follow my nose and will always find you.” “Is it the blessing?” “Isn’t it always?” “I don’t have a heightened sense of smell.” I frown. Why did I get the most useless talent? “Don’t worry,” Quinn says with a smile. “Maybe they’ll turn out later.” So, $q_he can smell me. <<button [[That's a concerning thought.|c8_concerningsmell]]>><</button>> <<button [[That's a comforting thought.|c8_comfortablesmell]]>><</button>>

“Why are you frowning so?” $q_He asks. “What if I don’t want to be found?” “Why wouldn’t you? I need to always find you if you need help. Right?” Another frown. There’s some sense in $q_his words but a part of me feels uneasy about this. “My dear friend,” $q_he says, placing $q_his bruised hand on my shoulder. “I would never violate your privacy.” I suppose all I can do is to trust $q_his word. “You didn’t want to stay with your friends?” $q_he asks, tilting $q_his head towards <<if (($camilla_bath is true) or ($tinsae_bath is true))>> Camilla and Tinsae. <<button [['"They're not my friends. You're my only friend."'|c8_quinnonlyfriend]]>><</button>> <<button [['"I suppose they're my friends. Sort of. But I wanted to spend time with you."'|c8_quinnspendtime]]>><</button>> <<button [['"I missed you. I feel like I see others more than you."'|c8_missyouquinn]]>><</button>> <<elseif (($niall_bath is true) or ($marcus_bath is true))>> Niall and... Marcus? $q_He frowns at the thought. <<button [['"They're not my friends. You're my only friend."'|c8_quinnonlyfriend]]>><</button>> <<button [['"I missed you. I feel like I see others more than you."'|c8_missyouquinn]]>><</button>> <</if>>

I don’t have to worry about getting lost. $q_He will always find me. “You didn’t want to stay with your friends?” $q_he asks, tilting $q_his head towards <<if (($camilla_bath is true) or ($tinsae_bath is true))>> Camilla and Tinsae. <<button [["They're not my friends. You're my only friend."|c8_quinnonlyfriend]]>><</button>> <<button [["I suppose they're my friends. Sort of. But I wanted to spend time with you."|c8_quinnspendtime]]>><</button>> <<button [[“I missed you. I feel like I see others more than you.”|c8_missyouquinn]]>><</button>> <<elseif (($niall_bath is true) or ($marcus_bath is true))>> Niall and... Marcus? $q_He frowns at the thought. <<button [["They're not my friends. You're my only friend."|c8_quinnonlyfriend]]>><</button>> <<button [["I suppose Niall is my friend. Sort of. But I wanted to spend time with you."|c8_maybeniallfriend?]]>><</button>> <<button [[“I missed you. I feel like I see others more than you.”|c8_missyouquinn]]>><</button>> <</if>>

$q_He purses $q_his lips. $q_He’s not as annoyed by the idea of me choosing $q_him over the others as $q_he was in the past. $q_He’s gotten more used to the idea. $q_He seems more pleased. And it makes me happy. $q_He’s all that I have. <<button [[Continue|c8_quinnmill]]>><</button>>

“It’s good to have friends,” $q_he says. “Apart from the witch, that is.” “Don’t start with Tinsae.” “I started. She wants to kill me.” “What are you talking about? She doesn’t.” “She wants to curse me and make me wither away. Well, that’s not important now.” $q_He beckons me to follow $q_him. $q_He hums a song that sounds familiar but I can’t quite put my finger on it. Something from our childhood, I bet. People chatter around us but none of them bump into us. It’s as if they’re making way without even realizing it. Quinn walks by everyone without them even noticing $q_he’s there. <<button [[Continue|c8_quinnmill]]>><</button>>

Quinn nods. “Because you should, right?” “But–” “No buts, love. You should focus on the task ahead. However,” $q_he adds when $q_he notices my annoyance, “Because it’s near the Winter Solstice, I agree that we should spend more time together. If not for the annoyingly drunk Romans that will litter the streets soon enough.” $q_He scoffs. $q_He beckons me to follow $q_him. $q_He hums a song that sounds familiar but I can’t quite put my finger on it. Something from our childhood, I bet. People chatter around us but none of them bump into us. It’s as if they’re making way without even realizing it. Quinn walks by everyone without them even noticing $q_he’s there. <<button [[Continue|c8_quinnmill]]>><</button>>

“It’s good to have friends,” $q_he says. “Even if it’s the oaf. Maybe he can offer some emotional support.” “Don’t bully him.” “He looks like he’d offer good hugs. At least that’s what he’s good for.” “Quinn.” “Sorry, yes. The oaf is not important.” “No, I didn’t mean–” $q_He beckons me to follow $q_him. $q_He hums a song that sounds familiar but I can’t quite put my finger on it. Something from our childhood, I bet. People chatter around us but none of them bump into us. It’s as if they’re making way without even realizing it. Quinn walks by everyone without them even noticing $q_he’s there. <<button [[Continue|c8_quinnmill]]>><</button>>

$q_He leads me to a mill that’s nearby $q_his favorite bakery. The door creaks in agony when Quinn forces it to open. “You’re staying here?” I frown at the sight of a small lair of blankets in the corner of the mill. The floor is littered with flour dust and footprints – both mice and humans. “Yes,” $q_he says, as if not understanding the meaning behind my question. There’s a lone brazier fighting off the winter breeze creeping from the cracks of the walls. It’s a losing battle. I tighten the cloak around me. A lone mouse scurries past us in fear. At least it’s a mouse, not a rat. “It’s…” <<button [["Nice."|c8_quinnmillnice]]>><</button>> <<button [["A shit hole."|c8_quinnmillshithole]]>><</button>> <<button [["Uh. Don't you get cold?"|c8_quinnmillcold?]]>><</button>>

“Thank you,” $q_he turns to me with a smile as $q_he’s looking for something in $q_his bag. “I mean it’s a shithole but I appreciate you lying.” I let out a laugh. “Why can’t you just, I don’t know, persuade someone to give you money and get a better place?” “Do you imply that I should rob people? Where are your morals?” “Very funny.” “Hehe. I try to keep my power-using to a minimum when it comes to myself. I’d rather use my life force on you.” $q_He smiles as if what $q_he says was the most normal thing to utter out loud. <<button [["Your life force?"|c8_quinnlifeforce?]]>><</button>>

Quinn lets out an incoherent sound of agreement while $q_he’s searching for $q_his bag. “I barely feel it anymore.” “Why can’t you just, I don’t know, persuade someone to give you money and get a better place?” “Do you imply that I should rob people? Where are your morals?” “Very funny.” “Hehe. I try to keep my power-using to a minimum when it comes to myself. I’d rather use my life force on you.” $q_He smiles as if what $q_he says was the most normal thing to utter out loud. <<button [["Your life force?"|c8_quinnlifeforce?]]>><</button>>

“I know, but it’s home.” I raise my brow. “Yes, well, no it’s not home either. But I appreciate your honesty.” “Why can’t you just, I don’t know, persuade someone to give you money and get a better place?” “Do you imply that I should rob people? Where are your morals?” “Very funny.” “Hehe. I try to keep my power-using to a minimum when it comes to myself. I’d rather use my life force on you.” $q_He smiles as if what $q_he says was the most normal thing to utter out loud. <<button [["Your life force?"|c8_quinnlifeforce?]]>><</button>>

“So… Everytime you use your powers, you’re closer to dying?” “Well–” $q_He shrugs, as if unsure how to continue the sentence. Instead of saying something, $q_he opts for silence. With an even deeper frown, I look at $q_his leg, the same one that was infected the last time I saw it. \<<if $quinn_bandage isnot true>> That I didn’t help clean up. <</if>> $q_He doesn’t put weight on it. “How is your leg?” I ask. “It’s better, thank you for asking,” $q_he says with a perky nod. “You’re lying.” $q_He gasps. “How did you know?” “It doesn’t take a genius. Now show me your leg.” “No.” “Quinn, for the love of all that is holy and good, show it to me at this instance.” Quinn groans at my tone and mutters something about ‘fine’ and ‘pushy’ and ‘overbearing’. $q_He drops $q_his pants and crosses $q_his arms in expectation. \<<if (($loud_pervert is true) or ($shy_pervert is true))>> I raise my brow at the show. But instead of seeing $q_his naked lower body for what it is, I see fresh bruises. And the wound… \<<elseif (($not_interested is true) or ($clueless is true))>> I let out an incoherent string of words and look away. $q_He laughs. “How did you think that I was going to show it to you? Besides, you already saw more when I was bathing.” “I was surprised, alright?” I look back at $q_his innocently smiling face as $q_he presents to me $q_his boney legs. There are more fresh bruises in there. And the wound... <</if>> \<<if $quinn_bandage isnot true>> The wound looks immensely worse. “Ah, shit. Stay right there.” I quickly take my first aid pack and fall down on my knees to examine the wound further. “It’s…” <<button [['"Bad. Really bad."'|c8_quinnwoundbad]]>><</button>> <<button [['"Fine. Don't worry about it."'|c8_quinnwoundfine]]>><</button>> \<<elseif $quinn_bandage is true>> I frown at the sight of my own bandage that’s still there, unchanged. “Why haven’t you taken the bandage off?” I ask. $q_He offers me no other explanation than a shrug. “You should’ve let it breathe. You can’t just–” I let out a ragged breath. This is going to be bad. “I didn’t want to look at it,” $q_he confesses meekly. “It feels weird and it hurts, I just ignored it.” I try to remain calm after the confession. $q_He has lost all sense of taking care of $q_himself. I should’ve known. “Sit on that chair so I can take a better look.” “Alright.” Without a peep of protest, $q_he walks up to the chair and sits with a goofy smile on $q_his face. “What?” I ask. “I’m just happy you’re taking care of me. Makes me feel special.” “By the Twins,” I groan and take the bandage off. “It’s…” <<button [['"Bad. Really bad."'|c8_quinnwoundbad]]>><</button>> <<button [['"Fine. Don't worry about it."'|c8_quinnwoundfine]]>><</button>> <</if>>\

‘Try’ is the keyword here. I wouldn’t let him. I would claw my way through him if he tried. But instead of saying that he would, he just shakes his head. “You’re free to go.” <<button [['"Am I supposed to be grateful now? Say thank you?"'|c8_supposedtobegrateful]]>><</button>> <<button [[Relief washes over me.|c8_reliefmarcus]]>><</button>>

He frowns at my words. “Of course not. I expect you to bite my finger at this very moment.” “I’m not some animal.” “I beg to differ,” he says with a small, amused smile. And I give him a frown in return. If anything, I might miss our banter. He gives me a small, joyless smile. “It’s more dangerous and slower to travel in winter.” The fact isn’t lost on me. Is he going to ask me to stay here for the spring? “But if you need to leave now, I understand.” “You… do?” I don’t know what I expected. “Of course. You don’t belong here.” I frown at the words. No. I don’t. <<button [[But something about those words stings.|c8_marcussting]]>><</button>> <<button [[There is barely any home to go back but I'll manage.|c8_illmanagemarcus]]>><</button>>

I sigh, deeply relieved. By the Twins. The news I’ve been waiting for. He gives me a small, joyless smile. “It’s more dangerous and slower to travel in winter.” The fact isn’t lost on me. Is he going to ask me to stay here for the spring? “But if you need to leave now, I understand.” “You… do?” I don’t know what I expected. “Of course. You don’t belong here.” I frown at the words. No. I don’t. <<button [[But something about those words stings.|c8_marcussting]]>><</button>> <<button [[There is barely any home to go back but I'll manage.|c8_illmanagemarcus]]>><</button>>

Silence falls as we continue walking. “You’re fine with me going home?” I ask. He doesn’t seem keen on killing me, that’s much is certain, so why wouldn’t he help me get home? Unless he was the bastard who enjoys toying with my life. But everything I see now before me makes me rethink that. “It’s more dangerous and slower to travel in winter,” he states. That didn’t answer the question. “Other than that you’re fine with it?” Why was I sure that he’d try to keep me here? “You don’t belong here.” I frown at the words. No. I don’t. <<button [[But something about those words stings.|c8_marcussting]]>><</button>> <<button [[There is barely any home to go back but I'll manage.|c8_illmanagemarcus]]>><</button>>

I frown at the feeling that’s needling at my heart. I didn’t expect it. Didn’t expect to feel anything else but happiness. I’ve already gotten used to everyone. Floyd, Niall, Kegan… Him. He’s the reason I’m still alive. He’s saved me many times before. It’s unexpected. He lets out an awkward laugh. “Why are you looking at me like that?” <<button [['"Maybe there are some good sides to you."'|c8_marcusgoodsides]]>><</button>> <<button [['"I might miss you."'|c8_mightmissmarcus]]>><</button>> <<button [["No reason." Look away.|c8_marcusnoreason]]>><</button>>

There are distant relatives ready to give us shelter, I’m sure. I will have to start writing letters and maybe even Quinn will help me. Quinn. I almost grimace at the thought. $q_He will be disappointed. But surely $q_he will see reason? “Where will you go?” Marcus asks. “I have a cousin I’m close with. We’ll manage.” “He can be trusted?” “Of course.” He smiles bitterly at my confident words. “Did you know that there were tribes who helped with the assault against yours?” I frown at the information. No. I didn’t. “Can you tell me which ones?” “Yes. Later.” He puts his finger against his lips. It must be something you can't just discuss out in the open. He doesn’t say anything more. The walk back to the barracks is long and silent. \<<if (($quinn_lover is true) or ($quinn_first_pick is true) and ($quinn_afraid isnot true))>> There’s something tugging at my heart. Something I should do. I should go see Quinn. <<button [[Continue|quinn_secondpick]]>><</button>> \<<else>> It’s time to prepare for the evening. <<button [[Continue|Saturnalia]]>><</button>> <</if>>

He’s saved me multiple times already. He didn’t have to do that. “You’re growing soft on me?” he asks with a chuckle. But the chuckle rings off today. \<<if (($marcus_killer isnot true) and ($dummy isnot true))>> “Are you going to bring up my father again?” I ask. “To push me away?” His tactic in the baths was pathetically obvious. That erases all traces of amusement from his face. “You brought him up this time.” I did. Maybe I shouldn’t have. \<<else>> “Did the steamy bath change your mind?” He gives me a suggestive look. “Ugh, forget it.” He lets out a small laugh. <</if>>\ After a while, he asks, “Where will you go?” “I have a cousin I’m close with. We’ll manage.” “He can be trusted?” “Of course.” He smiles bitterly at my confident words. “Did you know that there were tribes who helped with the assault against yours?” I frown at the information. No. I didn’t. “Can you tell me which ones?” “Yes. Later.” He puts his finger against his lips. It must be something you can't just discuss out in the open. He doesn’t say anything more. The walk back to the barracks is long and silent. \<<if (($quinn_lover is true) or ($quinn_first_pick is true) and ($quinn_afraid isnot true))>> There’s something tugging at my heart. Something I should do. I should go see Quinn. <<button [[Continue|quinn_secondpick]]>><</button>> \<<else>> It’s time to prepare for the evening. <<button [[Continue|Saturnalia]]>><</button>> <</if>>

I almost say it out loud. But I would never hear the end of it. And I’m not sure if I’m ready to say it. If there even is any point in saying it. Maybe it’s for the best that we’ll part our way and I’ll forget about everything. About him. When all I give him is silence, he shrugs. The air feels heavy with the things left unsaid. Finally, he asks, “Where will you go?” “I have a cousin I’m close with. We’ll manage.” “He can be trusted?” “Of course.” He smiles bitterly at my confident words. “Did you know that there were tribes who helped with the assault against yours?” I frown at the information. No. I didn’t. “Can you tell me which ones?” “Yes. Later.” He puts his finger against his lips. It must be something you can't just discuss out in the open. He doesn’t say anything more. The walk back to the barracks is long and silent. \<<if (($quinn_lover is true) or ($quinn_first_pick is true) and ($quinn_afraid isnot true))>> There’s something tugging at my heart. Something I should do. I should go see Quinn. <<button [[Continue|quinn_secondpick]]>><</button>> \<<else>> It’s time to prepare for the evening. <<button [[Continue|Saturnalia]]>><</button>> <</if>>

“Just admiring the view?” he asks. “Something like that.” After a while, he asks, “Where will you go?” “I have a cousin I’m close with. We’ll manage.” “He can be trusted?” “Of course.” He smiles bitterly at my confident words. “Did you know that there were tribes who helped with the assault against yours?” I frown at the information. No. I didn’t. “Can you tell me which ones?” “Yes. Later.” He puts his finger against his lips. It must be something you can't just discuss out in the open. He doesn’t say anything more. The walk back to the barracks is long and silent. \<<if (($quinn_lover is true) or ($quinn_first_pick is true) and ($quinn_afraid isnot true))>> There’s something tugging at my heart. Something I should do. I should go see Quinn. <<button [[Continue|quinn_secondpick]]>><</button>> \<<else>> It’s time to prepare for the evening. <<button [[Continue|Saturnalia]]>><</button>> <</if>>

Eoganan and Eithne come back to me. I need to be done before they’re here. But I need Quinn to help me. I can’t kill everyone without getting caught, not without $q_his help. “You don’t look happy,” Marcus says. “It’s just a lot to take in,” I say. And it’s not a lie, not really. Just a moment ago I wasn’t even sure if they’re alive. Now, they’ve given me a time limit to act so we can leave together when I’m done. “It must be,” he says. “For what it’s worth, I’m–” “Don’t say it,” I all but hiss at him. I don’t need to hear it. <<button [[Calm yourself. Charm him and murder him.|c8_blackwidow]]>><</button>> <<button [[He already fully knows that I'm here to murder him. No need to act coy.|c8_openmurdermarcus]]>><</button>>

\<<set $blackwidow to true>> I take a deep breath. I need a new strategy. One with less hostility and open anger. “I mean…” I take a deep breath and give him a small smile. “I know that you are. I’m just not ready to hear it right now. Alright?” He gives me a hesitant look. With him, it’s always difficult to know if he believes my words. But something about him tells me that he wants to believe me. “Right,” he says, looking away. “Just so you know, there were tribes who helped with the assault against yours,” he says. He looks at me. “Something to keep in mind.” “So I can’t even trust my relatives?” I let out a bitter laugh. Of course things can’t be simple. “Do you know who acted against us?” “Yes. We can talk more later.” I look at his side profile as we walk. I wonder if it would be pushing it if I told him that I’ll miss him? Would he know that I’m lying? Everything he’s done so far makes me believe that he doesn’t want me to get killed. He saved me from the health inspection, he didn’t let me get flogged. He has feelings for me. Feelings of guilt, perhaps? That’s definitely something I can use against him. “What are you looking at?” he asks. <<button [['"Maybe there are some good sides to you."'|c8_marcusgoodsidesblack]]>><</button>> <<button [["No reason." Look away.|c8_marcusnoreasonblack]]>><</button>>

\<<set $honest_marcus_murderer to true>> “Right,” he says, looking away. “Just so you know, there were tribes who helped with the assault against yours,” he says. He looks at me. “Something to keep in mind.” “So I can’t even trust my relatives?” I let out a bitter laugh. Of course things can’t be simple. “Do you know who acted against us?” “Yes. We can talk more later.” We walk in silence for a while. Finally, he asks, “If something happens to you, what would you like to be done with the little ones?” I frown at the question. Does he expect me to get myself killed? But maybe it’s a valid topic to think about. “I will have to think about that,” I say. “I’m not ready for that sort of commitment,” he says. “I might like children but–” <<button [[“In what world would I give them to you?”|c8_whatworldmarcus?]]>><</button>> <<button [[“If I go down, you’re going down with me.”|c8_yougowithme]]>><</button>>

“Just admiring the view?” he asks. “Something like that.” I shouldn’t be too obvious. He might suspect me. The walk back to the barracks is long and silent. \<<if (($quinn_lover is true) or ($quinn_first_pick is true) and ($quinn_afraid isnot true))>> There’s something tugging at my heart. Something I should do. I should go see Quinn. <<button [[Continue|quinn_secondpick]]>><</button>> \<<else>> It’s time to prepare for the evening. <<button [[Continue|Saturnalia]]>><</button>> <</if>>

“You’re growing soft on me?” he asks with a chuckle. But the chuckle rings off today. \<<if (($marcus_killer isnot true) and ($dummy isnot true))>> “Are you going to bring up my father again?” I ask. “To push me away?” His tactic in the baths was pathetically obvious. That erases all traces of amusement from his face. “You brought him up this time.” I did. To rub it in his face. I should probably do that less if I want him to trust me more. \<<else>> “Did the steamy bath change your mind?” He gives me a suggestive look. “Ugh, forget it.” He lets out a small laugh. <</if>>\ Well, that wasn't too obvious. The walk back to the barracks is long and silent. \<<if (($quinn_lover is true) or ($quinn_first_pick is true) and ($quinn_afraid isnot true))>> There’s something tugging at my heart. Something I should do. I should go see Quinn. <<button [[Continue|quinn_secondpick]]>><</button>> \<<else>> It’s time to prepare for the evening. <<button [[Continue|Saturnalia]]>><</button>> <</if>>

“What? I’m good with children.” “Antonia insults you on the regular.” “It’s just banter. You can ask her for a referral.” I can’t help but to chuckle at the conversation. It’s absurd. He lets out a dry laugh, too. “I made you laugh.” “Don’t let it go to your head.” The walk back to the barracks is long but not wholly unpleasant. I have to see Quinn. \<<if (($quinn_lover is true) or ($quinn_first_pick is true) and ($quinn_afraid isnot true))>> There’s something tugging at my heart. Something I should do. I should go see Quinn. <<button [[Continue|quinn_secondpick]]>><</button>> \<<else>> It’s time to prepare for the evening. <<button [[Continue|Saturnalia]]>><</button>> <</if>>

“Ah, but of course.” He grins. “Well, what about Niall? He’s good with children. Granted, he’s too much of a pushover to not let them run over him but… At least he’s got the funds and the will to spoil them rotten.” “I don’t know about that. Tinsae, perhaps?” “Oh, no. That woman will carry them over the border and leave them at your relative’s door.” “That might not be so bad, either.” Neither of us utter Camilla’s name out loud. The walk back to the barracks is long but not wholly unpleasant. I have to see Quinn. \<<if (($quinn_lover is true) or ($quinn_first_pick is true) and ($quinn_afraid isnot true))>> There’s something tugging at my heart. Something I should do. I should go see Quinn. <<button [[Continue|quinn_secondpick]]>><</button>> \<<else>> It’s time to prepare for the evening. <<button [[Continue|Saturnalia]]>><</button>> <</if>>

I frown at the thought that popped up. Of course it is. It must be. But how nice would it be to just leave? Marcus gives me a small, amused smile. “You’re hesitating.” “I’m not. This is just a lot of information. I don’t even know where we would go.” He nods with a frown. He seems to believe my words. “There were tribes who helped with the assault against yours,” he says. He looks at me. “Something to keep in mind.” “So I can’t even trust my relatives?” I let out a bitter laugh. Of course things can’t be simple. “Do you know who acted against us?” “Yes. We can talk more later.” We walk in silence for a while. Finally, he asks, “If something happens to you, what would you like to be done with the little ones?” I frown at the question. Does he expect me to get myself killed? But maybe it’s a valid topic to think about. “I will have to think about that,” I say. “I’m not ready for that sort of commitment,” he says. “I might like children but–” <<button [['"In what world would I give them to you?"'|c8_whatworldmarcus?]]>><</button>> <<button [['"If I go down, you’re going down with me."'|c8_yougowithme]]>><</button>>

We walk in silence towards the barracks. Tinsae is deep in her thoughts. It makes me feel more comfortable with falling deep in my own mind, to make sense of what I saw. \<<if $manipulated is true>> Why was I the darkness in that vision? She engulfed me with her light as I was praying to the Twins. Something about that vision makes me feel sick to my stomach. \<<elseif $determined is true>> Was I the darkness in that vision because of my plans? But I’m doing it for my people. Doesn’t it make it just? <</if>>\ “Do you want to go home, dear?” Tinsae asks me, pulling me away from my thoughts. “The barracks?” I ask. Aren’t we already on our way there? Hardly something I’d call home, either. “No. Home. Back to the North.” “Huh?” Camilla and I say at the same time. “You don’t need to worry about the little ones anymore, I found them. They’re alive and well. A temple bought them after they learned of their druidic education.” “They’re… What?” “It should take a week. The roads are–” I hear every single word she’s saying but it’s still not sinking in. They’re alive and they’re on their way back to me. “Were they mistreated?” I ask. “No. The temple has taken good care of them.” Relief washes over me as everything I’ve dreaded for the last couple of months proves blissfully wrong. They’re alive and fine. “Now, you can go home.” She smiles at the prospect, everything about her is radiating relief. \<<if $manipulated is true>> I can finally go home. With the family I have left. \<<elseif $determined is true>> But my joy is cut short when I realize the implication of their arrival. Oh no. They can’t come here, not yet. I need to kill before they get here. And I can’t get caught because I’m all they have. <</if>> <<button [[Continue|c8_camilladidntknow]]>><</button>>

\<<if $quinn_bandage isnot true>> “Bad?” $q_He frowns. “How so?” “It’s… Have you looked at it?” White ooze drips out of it as we speak. “No, I’ve kept my pants on at all times so I don’t have to look at it.” “So you haven’t even washed it?” “No…” “By the Twins.” I sigh and rub my face. I should’ve known $q_he can’t take care of $q_himself. \<<elseif $quinn_bandage is true>> “Bad?” $q_He frowns. “How so?” “If you don’t let the wound breathe, it will get infected." White ooze drips out of the opening. It’s bad. It’s really bad. “How do you know that?” $q_He frowns, as if it’s all new information to $q_him. I bite my lip. “Because I listened when mother taught us about medicine.” “Right.” $q_He grins sheepishly. “I wasn’t really interested.” "I can see that," I mutter under my breath. <</if>>\ “Well it can’t be that bad,” $q_he says with a smile. “Besides, I’m dying already and–” “You’re going to die a lot faster now if we don’t treat this thing.” “Oh. Well.” $q_He shrugs. \<<if $fire is true>> “Don’t you ‘oh well’ me,” I say with such a frown it almost hurts my face. “Um, sorry,” $q_he says, retreating to $q_himself. “I didn’t know what to do about it.” \<<elseif $earth is true>> I give $q_him a deadly stare. $q_He says in a silent voice, almost a whisper, “I didn’t know what to do about it.” \<<elseif $air is true>> I give $q_him a deadly stare. $q_He says in a silent voice, almost a whisper, “I didn’t know what to do about it.” \<<elseif $water is true>> “Quinn, you need to listen to me right now. I don’t want you to die and this is serious. I’m not kidding.” “Oh,” $q_he says, retreating to $q_himself. “I didn’t know what to do about it.” <</if>>\ “You should’ve asked me.” “Sorry…” <<button [['"Now shut up and let me treat you."'|c8_quinnshutup]]>><</button>> <<button [[I sigh and try to calm down.|c8_quinncalmdown]]>><</button>> <<button [['"It's my fault. I should've been here with you."'|c8_myfaultquinn]]>><</button>>

I give $q_him a small smile that I hope doesn’t betray my worry. $q_He tilts $q_his head at me and nods. “I wasn’t worrying,” $q_he says. “It shows,” I say through my teeth. “This is… I mean. Let me clean it up for you.” “But if it’s not bad…” “Just to treat it so it gets even better.” I give $q_him a feigned smile. Shit shit shit. \<<if $quinn_bandage is true>> I frown at the sight of my own bandage that’s still there, unchanged. “Why haven’t you taken the bandage off?” I ask. “I didn’t want to look at it,” $q_he says. “You should’ve let it breathe. You can’t just–” I let out a ragged breath. This is going to be bad. “I didn’t want to look at it,” $q_he confesses meekly. “It feels weird and it hurts, I just ignored it.” I try to remain calm after the confession. $q_He has lost all sense of taking care of $q_himself. I should’ve known. “Sit on that chair so I can take a better look.” “Alright.” Without a peep of protest, $q_he walks up to the chair and sits with a goofy smile on $q_his face. “What?” I ask. “I’m just happy you’re taking care of me. Makes me feel special.” “By the Twins,” I groan. I take the bandage off. White ooze drips out of the wound and a foul smell assaults my senses. It’s bad. It’s really bad. $q_He can’t lose $q_his leg on top of everything. That would be– \<<else>> Once $q_he sits down on the chair I pointed $q_him to, I can clearly see the state of the wound. White ooze drips out of it. The smell is getting foul. This is not good. I need to wash it right now. “Is it–” $q_he starts to ask but I give $q_him a quick smile. “It’s fine, just need to clean it." <</if>> \<<if (($fire is true) or ($water is true))>> “$name?” Quinn asks, $q_his tone unsure. “You look like you’re worried.” “No. I’m not. I will take care of everything.” \<<elseif (($earth is true) or ($air is true))>> Despite my racing thoughts, I manage to keep them out of my face, out of the top of my mind. <</if>> “It's good to sit," $q_he says. "I was feeling a little ill.” The infection is spreading, of course $q_he’d feel ill. <<button [[Continue|c8_woundcleaningoblivious]]>><</button>>

Anger makes me grab $q_his leg a little rougher than I should. $q_He whines in response. “Sorry,” I mutter. “Don’t worry about it. Mangle it all you want. I feel like I deserve it.” “No, I’m sorry. I’m just angry.” $q_He gives me a weak smile. “Sorry.” “Don’t apologize, let’s just clean this thing.” <<button [[Continue|c8_woundcleaning]]>><</button>>

It’s not $q_his fault, it’s not my fault, it’s no one’s fault. This is happening and we need to fix this. “Are you alright?” $q_he asks sheepishly. “Let’s just clean this thing.” <<button [[Continue|c8_woundcleaning]]>><</button>>

Regret drips from my words like pus from $q_his rotten wound. I saw how bad the wound was, why did I think that $q_he’d be able to take care of $q_himself. Quinn shakes $q_his head. “No, I’m an adult, I should be able to–” “You’re barely even eating,” I say. $q_He’s lost weight in the past couple of months. “I eat something,” $q_he defends $q_himself. “Sweets are not food.” “Oh. Sorry.” $q_He shrinks to $q_himself again. “Don’t apologize, let’s just clean this thing.” <<button [[Continue|c8_woundcleaning]]>><</button>>

“I didn’t–” she says before pursing her lips shut tight. “I wasn’t sure if you were even alright in the head. You looked at me like–” She holds her words and stares into my eyes in clear hostility. “Are you right in the head?” she asks. “I am, yes.” But my words probably don’t raise a lot of confidence within her. \<<if (($chosen_one is true) or ($believer is true))>> I shouldn’t say that. It’s a blessing. <</if>>\ I try not to act more suspiciously as I struggle to make sense of what I saw. Is that the Twins’ way of warning me about her plans? Is she planning on killing me? \<<if (($camilla_user is true) and ($dummy isnot true))>> Isn’t that what I’ve been expecting all along? But to think that she would actually murder me? Or was it a figurative vision? I doubt I should take their message for face value. \<<elseif (($camilla_user is true) and ($dummy isnot true))>> Isn’t that what I’ve been expecting all along? The truth was shown by the Twins. Her plan is to murder me. \<<else>> I don’t know what else it could mean. <</if>>\ <<button [[Continue|c8_camillayoualright?]]>><</button>>

“You weren’t–” she says before pursing her lips shut tight. “Clearly you weren’t. You looked insane.” The visions are proving to be quite a hindrance. \<<if (($chosen_one is true) or ($believer is true))>> I shouldn’t say that. It’s a blessing. <</if>>\ I try not to act more suspiciously as I struggle to make sense of what I saw. Is that the Twins’ way of warning me about her plans? Is she planning on killing me? \<<if (($camilla_user is true) and ($dummy isnot true))>> Isn’t that what I’ve been expecting all along? But to think that she would actually murder me? Or was it a figurative vision? I doubt I should take their message for face value. \<<elseif (($camilla_user is true) and ($dummy isnot true))>> Isn’t that what I’ve been expecting all along? The truth was shown by the Twins. Her plan is to murder me. \<<else>> I don’t know what else it could mean. <</if>>\ <<button [[Continue|c8_camillayoualright?]]>><</button>>

I’m not sure what to say. I wasn’t exactly in my right mind and I can’t tell her about the gift. Something within me says that I shouldn’t let anyone know. That they wouldn’t understand. The visions are proving to be quite a hindrance. \<<if (($chosen_one is true) or ($believer is true))>> I shouldn’t say that. It’s a blessing. <</if>>\ I try not to act more suspiciously as I struggle to make sense of what I saw. Is that the Twins’ way of warning me about her plans? Is she planning on killing me? \<<if (($camilla_user is true) and ($dummy isnot true))>> Isn’t that what I’ve been expecting all along? But to think that she would actually murder me? Or was it a figurative vision? I doubt I should take their message for face value. \<<elseif (($camilla_user is true) and ($dummy isnot true))>> Isn’t that what I’ve been expecting all along? The truth was shown by the Twins. Her plan is to murder me. \<<else>> I don’t know what else it could mean. <</if>>\ <<button [[Continue|c8_camillayoualright?]]>><</button>>

Tinsae gives me a warm, yet slightly concerned, smile. “Are you sure you’re alright, dear?” “Yes. Just a headache,” I confirm. A weary sigh leaves her full lips. “Headache made you act like you were possessed?” “I was numbed by the pain.” She frowns in concern. “Really?” She puts her warm hand against my forehead, as if checking for temperature. “If you need anything from me, let me know. Do you have medicine?” “Some, yes–” “You will be delivered more. Do not worry. Headaches can happen due to stress and–” Camilla groans. “And you believed that crap?” Tinsae takes a step away from me with a small frown aimed at her friend. “I can clearly see that $he’s not lying about the pain.” “$He’s lying through $his teeth. $He might as well be possessed by a demon for all we know.” “Hati’s not…” Tinsae gives me a quick glance. “I’m sure that’s not the case.” She didn’t sound as confident as I would’ve liked. Now they think I’m possessed. Great. Tinsae places her hand on my shoulder. “Don’t worry, dear. We will take care of you.” She leans back with a wide smile on her face. “For now, I think that some good news is in order.” She takes a breath, clearly preparing for something. "Do you want to go home?" <<button [["The barracks?"|c8_camillahuh?]]>><</button>>

Aren’t we already on our way there? Hardly something I’d call home, either. “No. Home. Back to the North.” “Huh?” Camilla and I say at the same time. “You don’t need to worry about the little ones anymore, I found them. They’re alive and well. A temple bought them after they learned of their druidic education.” “They’re… What?” “It should take a week. The roads are–” I hear every single word she’s saying but it’s still not sinking in. They’re alive and they’re on their way back to me. “Were they mistreated?” I ask. “No. The temple has taken good care of them.” Relief washes over me as everything I’ve dreaded for the last couple of months proves blissfully wrong. They’re alive and fine. “Now, you can go home.” She smiles at the prospect, everything about her is radiating relief. \<<if $manipulated is true>> I can finally go home. With the family I have left. \<<elseif $determined is true>> But my joy is cut short when I realize the implication of their arrival. Oh no. They can’t come here, not yet. I need to kill before they get here. And I can’t get caught because I’m all they have. <</if>>\ <<button [[Continue|c8_camilladidntknow]]>><</button>>

“I did not know about this,” Camilla says, clearly displeased by the news. “I did not know you were going to leave so soon,” she continues. Displeasure oozes from her words as she looks at Tinsae. “So much unexpected news in such a short period of time.” She smiles but the smile lacks any warmth. “It doesn’t please me.” \<<if $fire is true>> “Doesn't please you? What is wrong with you?” \<<elseif $earth is true>> I look at her. She tries to put up a front of not caring but there’s something cracking beneath the surface. \<<elseif $air is true>> I smile. The comment is ludicrous. “Do you mean you’re not pleased by the wellbeing of my siblings?” “No,” she says. "I mean I don't mean that." She scoffs. "Don't twist my words." \<<elseif $water is true>> I frown. The comment is ludicrous. “Do you mean you’re not pleased by the wellbeing of my siblings?” “No,” she says. "I mean I don't mean that." She scoffs. "Don't twist my words." <</if>>\ Camilla avoids my gaze. Instead, she says, “Tinsae. Did you hire someone to do that?” Tinsae’s brows furrow but still she manages to wear a little, disarming smile on her face. “Do you mean finding Hati’s siblings?” “Don’t play dumb. Only you know about him. Unless you told–” She stops and turns her icy glare on me. “You.” “What?” “You and Tinsae worked together? Is that it?” Her chest moves frantically, she’s almost hyperventilating. “No one is working with anyone, Camilla, do not blame Hati for–” “You know about me, you’re conspiring against me. Both of you. And you’ll leave me. First you tell him about me, then you leave me to him.” She’s digging her nails to her skin, making herself bleed. She’s panicking. <<button [[Touch her and try to calm her.|c8_camillatouch]]>><</button>> <<button [[Remain silent. I don’t know what to say.|c8_camillasilenthysteria]]>><</button>>

“Camilla,” Tinsae says in a stern voice. “Neither of us know what you’re talking about. No one has betrayed you. We’re in this together.” “You’re the only one who knows,” she repeats the mantra that’s clearly a running loop in her head. “You sent him after me. I’m not prepared. You told him about me. Now you leave me alone with him. I will not be left alone with him, never again. I will kill–” “Camilla!” Tinsae raises her voice to snap her out of whatever state she’s in. But it doesn’t work. Camilla stares at me with sheer panic in her eyes. She’s a cornered animal but no one else sees the predator about to devour her. “Stop lying. It was you.” With panic bordering on madness in her eyes, she jumps at me. I fall on my back with her on top of me. She locks my arms on the ground and snarls. “What is wrong with you?” “You’re with HIM,” she hisses as she locks her thighs so I can’t move. <<button [[Try to reason with her.|c8_camillareason]]>><</button>> <<button [[Wrestle her off me.|c8_wrestlecamilla]]>><</button>> <<button [[Shout help from Tinsae.|c8_camillatinsaehelp]]>><</button>>

She hisses like a cornered wild cat when I touch her cloak. I retreat my hand as if I touched something scorching. “I don’t know what you’re talking about.” “How can you not? She’s the only one who knows,” she says, snarling at Tinsae. “You know now, too. You know, you both know and you think you’ve outplayed me.” “Camilla, please–” “You told him about me. Now you leave me alone with him. I will not be left alone with him, never again. I will kill–” “Camilla!” Tinsae raises her voice to snap her out of whatever state she’s in. <<button [[Try to reason with her.|c8_camillareason]]>><</button>> <<button [[Wrestle her off me.|c8_wrestlecamilla]]>><</button>> <<button [[Shout help from Tinsae.|c8_camillatinsaehelp]]>><</button>>

She locks her thighs against my ribs to keep me in place. Her lower body strength is surprisingly powerful. “I don’t know who ‘him’ is but right now you’re letting him control you.” “What?” She stops trying to subdue me. An advantage. “You’re angry. That’s you giving him leverage.” Her breathing starts to slow down. “But wasn’t it you?” she asks one last time. And all I need to do is to shake my head for her to finally believe me. She accepts my words but still she remains on top of me. I could easily roll her off me but something in her eyes stops me from doing that. She’s scared. She doesn’t look at me. Instead, she’s inside her head, reliving something she will not share here, if she ever will. Something about her admitting that I’m telling her the truth made the situation in her head somehow even worse. “Camilla,” I whisper. “He’s not here.” She rolls off me and ends up lying in the snow. She doesn’t look at me. Instead, she’s inside her head, reliving something she will not share here, if she ever will. Finally, she says, “Leave me.” “Camilla, please just tell us what’s wrong.” “Leave me,” she whispers at the sky, her dress drenched, her features bare and spiritually beaten. A broken, soggy doll left out in the open. “I’m sorry.” Another whisper, even smaller than the last one. “What happened this morning?” I ask. None of this makes any sense. She starts to get up. “Leave me.” <<button [[Help her.|c8_camillahelp]]>><</button>> <<button [[Don't help her.|c8_camilladonthelp]]>><</button>>

\<<if $build is "muscular">> I’m stronger than her but she’s got the upper hand she gained from her element of surprise. \<<else>> She’s surprisingly strong. And she has the element of surprise. <</if>>\ And she’s extremely angry. She locks her thighs against my ribs. Or tries to. I slipped my elbows in before she had the chance. I didn’t wrestle with my brother for nothing. It gives me an advantage. And her matriarch dress isn’t meant for battles. I free my hand and yank hard on her silky cloak covering her head. The cloak rips her wig off with it, making her unbalanced and distracted. I lock her legs with mine. I roll her off me. The roles are reversed. She snarls, she hisses, she trashes under me. “Calm down,” I order her but it does nothing. Instead, she tries to claw at me, to bite, to do anything in her power to get the advantage back. Tinsae’s voice is pleading as she says, “Camilla, for the love of Isis and Jupiter, he wasn’t in your bedroom.” That makes Camilla stop trashing. She looks at me as anger slowly subsides, giving room for fear and shame. Gradually, her body starts to relax under me. She keeps looking at me with shame and resignation. Her features are bare and spiritually beaten. It feels so off place in her gaze that it almost makes me look away. Then, she tenses up again. “Get off before people see.” I obey but it's already too late. Camilla looks at the dozen passersby who stayed for the show. The wind carries their scandalized whispering to our ears. She takes up her wig but doesn’t put it on. It’s drenched and ruined. <<button [[Continue.|c8_camillaoutburst]]>><</button>>

“Tinsae! Help!” Can she peel the crazy woman off me? Maybe if we combined our strength, she’d– But instead of opting to peel her off me, Tinsae resorts to words. Her voice holds authority and certainty as she says, “Camilla, you will release $him. He wasn’t in your bedroom.” That cuts through her. Her breathing starts to slow down. “You didn’t do it?” she asks one last time. And all I need to do is to shake my head for her to finally believe me. She nods meekly. Something about her admitting that I’m telling her the truth made the situation in her head somehow even worse. “Camilla?” I ask. My voice makes her realize that she’s still on top of me. She rolls off me and ends up lying in the snow. She doesn’t look at me. Instead, she’s inside her head, reliving something she will not share here, if she ever will. Finally, she says, “Leave me.” “Camilla, please just tell us what’s wrong.” “Leave me,” she whispers at the sky, her dress drenched, her features bare and spiritually beaten. A broken, soggy doll left out in the open. “I’m sorry.” Another whisper, even smaller than the last one. “What happened this morning?” I ask. None of this makes any sense. She starts to get up. “Leave me.” <<button [[Help her.|c8_camillahelp]]>><</button>> <<button [[Don't help her.|c8_camilladonthelp]]>><</button>>

“I’m not leaving you here,” I say in a steady voice and offer her my hand. She looks at it for a while, as if the very sight of it offends her. But the offence doesn’t feel personal, it’s not because it’s my hand in particular. Finally, her gaze loses the last spark of fight she had in her. She gives me a meek nod. I take her cold hand and yank her up. Her legs are wobbly but she remains standing. <<button [[Continue.|c8_camillaoutburst]]>><</button>>

I don’t offer my hand to her. Her assault makes me take steps away from her. Tinsae gives my back a light caress and a little smile. “Don’t worry,” she whispers. She gives her hand to Camilla, urging her to accept her help. “Please, Camilla. Let us help you.” But Camilla shakes her head slowly. Instead of answering, she gets up on her own, refusing to grab on Tinsae’s erected hand. <<button [[Continue.|c8_camillaoutburst]]>><</button>>

The outburst of emotions has left her completely drained. Whatever happened in her bedroom this morning has left her mind in shambles. I recognize the look on his face. It’s exactly how I’ve felt when I’ve seen things I’m not supposed to see. “My Lady,” a voice says, interrupting the scene. I turn to look at Camilla's bodyguards approaching us. Camilla doesn’t raise her gaze to meet theirs. She doesn’t look surprised they’re here. If anything, she ignores their existence. Without another word, she starts walking back to the barracks, back to her villa. Her bodyguards follow her. No. It’s more likely that they’re leading her back there. Away from the eyes of the townspeople who saw a noblewoman who lost her mind in public. Tinsae gives me a helpless look. But there’s anger buried in a shallow grave in her gaze. “What happened? Why did she accuse you?” I ask. She shakes her head slowly, as if trying to decide what she can tell me. “There is something I know about her. Something that no one else does.” “What is it?” “I cannot tell you. It isn’t my place. But the fact that she’d think that I did something about that information, it’s… Disturbing.” Tinsae looks after Camilla, her gaze hard despite the worry. “A part of me thinks that we should just run after her but after what she said and did…” She gives me an apologetic smile. “She shouldn’t have attacked you. That’s unforgivable.” <<button [['"I will go after her."'|c8_goaftercamilla]]>><</button>> <<button [['"Do you want to go after her? With me?"'|c8_goafterwithme?]]>><</button>> <<button [['"I don't feel like going after her."'|c8_noaftercamilla]]>><</button>>

She looks at me with surprise. “Do you forgive her?” “I don’t know but she’s clearly not well.” She gives me a relieved smile before shaking her head. “You can’t just run after her.” \<<if $dummy is true>> “Why not?” I frown. “I will–” “What? You will run after her, tackle the guards, and take her into your arms and flee?” The unsual amount of sarcasm from her lips catches me off guard. She sighs and gives me a patient smile. “What I mean is that no, you can’t go after her right now. You shouldn’t be that close with her, and you wouldn’t be able to talk to her anyway.” “But…” She’s right, even if she was being weirdly mean about it. “I’m sorry,” she says with a sigh. “I’m just… Please. Forgive my words. \<<else>> “Right, of course.” I let the emotions get the better of me. I can’t just run after her. I’m a random soldier in their eyes, what reason would I have to run after the wife of the Legate. <</if>>\ “If I know anything about Camilla, she will placate Gaius in no time and she will be able to attend the evening party.” I give her an uncertain look. She brushes a strand of hair off my face and says, “Don’t worry about a thing. She’s always been one resilient little…” She stops her words, rethinking them. “Rat?” She lets out a little, joyless laugh. “Yes. A little rat.” She sighs and looks away, as if she’s in a hurry to leave. <<button [["I'm a little rattled over what happened. Can I come with you?"|c8_comewithtinsae?]]>><</button>> <<button [[Let her leave.|c8_tinsaeleave]]>><</button>> <<button [['"Do you want a hug?"'|c8_tinsaehug?]]>><</button>> \<<if $tinsae_kiss is true>> <<button [['"Can I get a farewell kiss?"'|c8_kisstinsae?]]>><</button>> <</if>>

She quickly shakes her head. “I don’t think so, no. I… need to go home now.” She looks at the direction her home is, as if itching to leave already. “I have work,” she says in clarification, her smile a little more genuine. “Besides,” she quickly adds, “I doubt it would be helpful. We can’t exactly run after her while her bodyguards are there. I could on my own but… I’m sorry.” She gives me an apologetic smile. Camilla’s accusations really wounded her. She sighs and looks away, as if she’s in a hurry to leave. <<button [["I'm a little rattled over what happened. Can I come with you?"|c8_comewithtinsae?]]>><</button>> <<button [[Let her leave.|c8_tinsaeleave]]>><</button>> <<button [['"Do you want a hug?"'|c8_tinsaehug?]]>><</button>> \<<if $tinsae_kiss is true>> <<button [['"Can I get a farewell kiss?"'|c8_kisstinsae?]]>><</button>> <</if>>

Tinsae gives me an understanding nod. “I doubt she’d even be willing to tell us what happened. She can be… Difficult.” An understatement. She sighs and looks away, as if she’s in a hurry to leave. <<button [["I'm a little rattled over what happened. Can I come with you?"|c8_comewithtinsae?]]>><</button>> <<button [[Let her leave.|c8_tinsaeleave]]>><</button>> <<button [['"Do you want a hug?"'|c8_tinsaehug?]]>><</button>> \<<if $tinsae_kiss is true>> <<button [['"Can I get a farewell kiss?"'|c8_kisstinsae?]]>><</button>> <</if>>

She gives me a warm smile. But it’s a wavering one. “I would love to. But there is something I need to do before the evening falls.” “What is it?” “Just some work, dear.” She touches my shoulder briefly. Then, she leans in, engulfing me in her scent. She places a light kiss on my cheek, whispering, “Please don’t worry. Think about your future, how you will get away from here.” I sigh deeply, remembering the discussion before Camilla snapped. Eoganan and Eithne are alive and well. I need to start making sense of that. <<button [[Continue|c8_quinnappears]]>><</button>>

“Do you want a hug?” She looks like she needs it. Camilla might have physically assaulted me but she blamed Tinsae more than me. Her gaze wanders the skyline as she shifts her weight from side to side. When her wandering mind registers my question, she quickly forces her frame rigid and gives me a practiced smile. “Of course.” She opens her arms to let me enter. But before I do, I ask, “Are you sure you’re alright?” “Just a little shaken over what happened, nothing more.” She smiles the same way she always does but something about it makes me wonder. Before I can ask any more questions, she takes a step towards me and buries me in her embrace. “Don’t worry,” she says in a whisper. “The most important thing is that the little ones are alive.” I sigh deeply at the sound of her voice. It’s true. She gives the crown of my head a little kiss and lets me go. “I will have to go now. Please try not to worry about Camilla.” I’m almost more worried about Tinsae now but remain silent about it. She doesn’t seem willing to share her burdens for now. Or maybe she did already but I’m being paranoid after Camilla’s outburst. Seeing my discomfort, she leans in, engulfing me in her scent. She places a light kiss on my cheek, whispering, “Please don’t worry. Think about your future, how you will get away from here.” I sigh deeply, remembering the discussion before Camilla snapped. Eoganan and Eithne are alive and well. I need to start making sense of that. “We’ll see later in the evening?” I ask. She smiles. “Of course. I will look for you. I can’t wait to see your costume.” <<button [[Continue|c8_quinnappears]]>><</button>>

Her gaze wanders the skyline as she shifts her weight from side to side. When her wandering mind registers my question, she quickly forces her frame rigid and gives me a practiced smile. “Of course.” “Wait,” I say, dodging her kiss. “What’s wrong?” “Just a little shaken over what happened, nothing more.” She smiles the same way she always does but something about it makes me wonder. Before I can ask any more questions, she takes a step towards me and buries me in her embrace. She lifts my chin and gives me a light, lingering kiss. Her flowery scent soothes my racing mind. Suddenly, she lets go of me. “Huh–” But before I can ask, I feel someone’s eyes on us. A passerby stayed behind to gawk at the encore. Tinsae plays with her golden bracelet. “I’m sorry, Romans don’t care for public shows of affection.” “Stupid Romans always ruining everything,” I mutter and give the inquisitive fellow a stare. He quickly starts walking away. Tinsae says a little awkwardly, “I will have to go now. Please try not to worry about Camilla.” I’m almost more worried about Tinsae now but remain silent about it. She doesn’t seem willing to share her burdens for now. Or maybe she did already but I’m being paranoid after Camilla’s outburst. Seeing my discomfort, she leans in, engulfing me in her scent. She places a light kiss on my cheek, whispering, “Please don’t worry. Think about your future, how you will get away from here.” I sigh deeply, remembering the discussion before Camilla snapped. Eoganan and Eithne are alive and well. I need to start making sense of that. “We’ll see later in the evening?” I ask. She smiles. “Of course. I will look for you. I can’t wait to see your costume.” <<button [[Continue|c8_quinnappears]]>><</button>>

“We’ll see later in the evening?” I ask. She smiles, almost as if in relief that I didn’t pry more about her situation. “Of course. I will look for you. I can’t wait to see your costume.” <<button [[Continue|c8_quinnappears]]>><</button>>

Quinn appears next to me, I don’t even have to look at $q_him to know it. I can sense $q_him better these days. I know when $q_he’s close. “Was it you?” I ask. “Did you spook Camilla?” “No, it wasn’t me. I get how you’d suspect me, though.” $q_He shrugs. “It was a ghost from her past.” \<<if $dummy is true>> Quinn starts laughing. “Yes, a real ghost that spooked her, can you imagine?” I frown at $q_his ridicule. “What was it, then? What does that mean?” Quinn ignores the question and says, “She lied about her father. He didn’t die during Samhain.” I frown. \<<else>> “Someone from her past. I don’t know anything about it.” “No, you don’t. And what little you know she lied about.” “What do you mean?” Quinn ignores the question and says, “She lied about her father. He didn’t die during Samhain.” <</if>>\ “Uh-huh. He’s dead but he’s been dead for a long time now. And the man died peacefully.” “Why would she lie?” “To get sympathy? To make you feel like you have something in common?” “What else do you know?” “Nothing,” $q_he says with a smile. It’s almost certain that $q_he knows more than $q_he lets on. “Nothing important.” “You should let me decide–” “Do you suspect that the Legate will do something to her?” $q_he asks. “You should.” “Has he already done something?” “Not yet. She’s locked inside her room as we speak. Who knows if she’ll be able to attend the party.” “That’s hardly what matters now. Is he going to hurt her?” “Not yet. He’s still figuring out what happened. And with whom.” $q_He gives me a pointed look. “He might be a cuck at heart but public humiliation isn’t something he can stomach.” “She can get killed because of me?” “Wasn’t it always the case? She’s not exactly free to mingle. A married woman that she is.” “You need to help me–” “Anyway,” $q_he says with a small yawn. “There’s nothing we can do now, nothing that wouldn’t rouse suspicion and get that woman killed faster. I’ll be off now. We have to make sure you look presentable during the evening’s costume party.” <<button [['"Are you sure she will be alright?"'|c8_yousurequinn?]]>><</button>> <<button [['"I need to try to help her."'|c8_ineedtotryandhelpcamilla]]>><</button>> <<button [[I guess there's nothing else to do.|c8_quinnsilent]]>><</button>>

“I’m sure, the bastard wouldn’t kill her just because she’s assaulting his soldiers in the broad daylight.” Quinn shrugs. “I mean, maybe if he found out you two were fucking…” “Quinn.” “Sorry, I’m sure it won’t happen. If it makes you feel better, I could snoop around and see what’s going on.” “Yes. And if you see anything that even implies that she’s in danger, let me know.” “Yes, yes.” I frown. Quinn is a fickle one to put my trust in. “Don’t worry about a thing,” $q_he says with a smile. “I like her, too. I’ll make sure to let you know what I find.” “Goodbye, dear friend,” $q_he says and places a quick kiss on my cheek. Surprise flashes through me but before I can act, $q_he’s already skipping away in the snow. However, there’s a limp in $q_his usually light step. And soon enough, $q_he’s gone as quickly as $q_he disappeared. <<button [[Continue|c8_camillalied]]>><</button>>

Quinn sighs. “Listen. If you’re really worried about her, I can try to contact her. Would that make you feel better?” “Why can’t I–” “Because you’d get yourself killed. I’d hate that to happen. Just when you learned that the little ones are on their way.” I bite the inside of my cheek. “Fine.” I can’t just storm the villa. “Let her know…” <<button [['"That I forgive her for assaulting me."'|c8_forgivecamilla]]>><</button>> <<button [['"That she’s a mean witch but I still like her."'|c8_meanwitch]]>><</button>> <<button [['"That she hurt Tinsae’s feelings and she should apologize to her."'|c8_hurttinsae]]>><</button>>

“Don’t worry about a thing,” $q_he says with a smile. “I will take care of things and you can just worry about your costume for the evening.” Right. The party will– “Goodbye, dear friend,” Quinn says and places a quick kiss on my cheek. Surprise flashes through me but before I can act, $q_he’s already skipping away in the snow. However, there’s a limp in $q_his usually light step. And soon enough, $q_he’s gone as quickly as $q_he disappeared. <<button [[Continue|c8_camillalied]]>><</button>>

“And for lying, too.” “You have a forgiving heart,” $q_he says with a small grin. “Is there anything else on that list?” “I think that’s it. For now.” “For now, indeed.” I frown. Quinn is a fickle one to put my trust in. “Don’t worry about a thing,” $q_he says with a smile. “I like her, too. I’ll make sure to let you know what I find.” “Goodbye, dear friend,” $q_he says and places a quick kiss on my cheek. Surprise flashes through me but before I can act, $q_he’s already skipping away in the snow. However, there’s a limp in $q_his usually light step. And soon enough, $q_he’s gone as quickly as $q_he disappeared. <<button [[Continue|c8_camillalied]]>><</button>>

“What a poet you are, Hati. My heart would melt if you sent me those words.” “Quinn, for the love of–” “Yes yes, I’m going.” I frown. Quinn is a fickle one to put my trust in. “Don’t worry about a thing,” $q_he says with a smile. “I like her, too. I’ll make sure to let you know what I find.” “Goodbye, dear friend,” $q_he says and places a quick kiss on my cheek. Surprise flashes through me but before I can act, $q_he’s already skipping away in the snow. However, there’s a limp in $q_his usually light step. And soon enough, $q_he’s gone as quickly as $q_he disappeared. <<button [[Continue|c8_camillalied]]>><</button>>

“Oh, poor Tinsae,” $q_he says, ridicule tainting $q_his words. “Quinn.” “I’ll let Camilla know that she hurt the witch’s feelings.” “No, Tinsae’s–” “Yes, the evil witch. Anyway.” I frown. Quinn is a fickle one to put my trust in. “Don’t worry about a thing,” $q_he says with a smile. “I like her, too. I’ll make sure to let you know what I find.” “Goodbye, dear friend,” $q_he says and places a quick kiss on my cheek. Surprise flashes through me but before I can act, $q_he’s already skipping away in the snow. However, there’s a limp in $q_his usually light step. And soon enough, $q_he’s gone as quickly as $q_he disappeared. <<button [[Continue|c8_camillalied]]>><</button>>

I’m left frowning after Quinn. Camilla lied. Is it a surprise? \<<if $camilla_user is true>> No. It is as expected. However, there are questions. Did she already know that my father had passed? Did she use the information to get closer to me? A ruthless plan. \<<elseif $camilla_user isnot true>> Did she already know that my father had passed? Did she use the information to get closer to me? The thought is highly unnerving. <</if>> \<<if (($quinn_lover is true) or ($quinn_first_pick is true) and ($quinn_afraid isnot true))>> Quinn's already gone but there was something worrying about $q_his limp when $q_he left off running. I should go see $q_him. <<button [[Continue|quinn_secondpick]]>><</button>> \<<else>> With that, I leave alone for the barracks. It’s time to prepare for the evening. <<button [[Continue|Saturnalia]]>><</button>> <</if>>

I sigh deeply and start with the cleaning. Quinn remains blissfully quiet the whole time I’m working. The well nearby provides me with clean water and I manage to clean the wound as best as I can. I put some salve onto it and at this point, I can only hope for a miracle. “It’s done,” I say with a small smile. “You didn’t need to do that,” $q_he says. “All this fussing just for a little wound.” “Just for a–?” I start but halt my tongue and steady my breathing before I can. Is it even beneficial to keep $q_him in the dark about this? “Quinn, it’s not just a flesh wound. It might take your leg. I might literally have to saw it off.” “Oh.” I wait for $q_him to continue but nothing else comes out of $q_his mouth. “That’s all you have to say?” I ask. “It’s a little extreme to think that you’d saw it off but I’ve accepted my fate and–” “You are rushing your fate,” I say with a frown. “That is selfish of you.” $q_He frowns, as if not understanding my words. “Do you want me to saw it off?” “I don’t think so, no.” $q_He gives me a sheepish smile. And I have to take a deep, deep breath in order to keep my peace. It’s like looking after a child. <<button [["No reason." Look away.|c8_quinntea]]>><</button>>

“I have herbs in my bag that you should drink every evening and morning.” “Twice a day?” $q_He groans, as if the mere thought is daunting. “You can’t do that?” “I will forget.” “What else do you have to do here?” $q_He shrinks to $q_himself. “Nothing.” $q_He’s not going to drink the medicine on $q_his own. “Then, I will come here to make sure.” “You don’t have to. It’s a long way and–” <<button [[“I will. Because I love you and I don’t want to lose you.”|c8_loveyouquinn]]>><</button>> <<button [[“I don’t trust you to drink it on your own.”|c8_notrustquinn]]>><</button>> <<button [[“No buts.”|c8_nobutsquinn]]>><</button>>

$q_He smiles brightly at my words. “You don’t?” “What kind of a question is that? Of course I don’t want to lose you.” “Good.” $q_He nods. I breathe deeply. “I’ll see you this evening.” <<button [[Continue|c8_beforeleavequinn]]>><</button>>

“You don’t trust me?” $q_he asks with a small pout. “Of course I don’t! Look what happened when I trusted you to take care of yourself.” “Just a small mishap.” “You literally just said you can’t even take the medicine on your own.” “Yes, I did…” $q_He swings $q_his weight from $q_his heels to $q_his toes. “Umm. I’ll see you this evening?” “Yes.” <<button [[Continue|c8_beforeleavequinn]]>><</button>>

“But–” “What did I say?” $q_He nods sheepishly. “Alright. I will wait for you.” <<button [[Continue|c8_beforeleavequinn]]>><</button>>

Before I leave, $q_he needs to take the first dose. I brew the herbs into a drink. All the while Quinn looks at me with a small smile on $q_his face. “What are you smiling at?” I ask when the drink is finally ready. “Ah, well,” $q_he says with a small hue of redness creeping onto $q_his cheeks. “I love to watch you work so confidently. And for my sake.” I let out a small laugh. “Just drink it.” I look at $q_his legs. “I’d ask you to put your pants on but the wound needs to breathe. Do you have any long tunics?” “So I won’t accidentally show off my ass cheeks to the Romans?” “Yes. That would act as your revenge.” “Ha! My ass cheeks are a sight to behold, it would be a blessing to perceive them.” Quinn grins and skips to $q_his bag. Without shame, $q_he starts changing despite my presence. \<<if (($loud_pervert is true) or ($shy_pervert is true))>> I give $q_his said butt a quick look but what I see just manages to make me frown in worry. Bruises litter $q_his skin. “What’s with the bruises?” I ask. “You’re naughty for looking but I can’t blame you,” $q_he says, striking a naked pose. But when I keep looking at $q_his face instead, expecting an explanation, $q_he sighs. “I don’t know.” \<<else>> I turn around to give $q_him privacy. However, $q_he took $q_his clothes off so quickly that I could see new bruises on $q_his skin. “What’s with the bruises?” I ask. “Oh? You looked? You naughty thing.” But after a moment of silence, $q_he sighs. “I don’t know.” <</if>>\ “How can you not know?” “They just appear. It’s weird and I try not to think about it.” I purse my lips. Another thing to worry about. “Don’t worry about it,” $q_he says with a wide smile. “It’s a normal thing, right?” I rub my face. “It’s not.” “Oh. Well.” “Quinn, I need to leave now. I’ll bring you more medicine before the party.” “Oh, alright. I try not to die in the meantime.” “Not funny.” <<button [[Continue|Saturnalia]]>><</button>>

She scoffs. Tinsae seems to take it as a ‘yes’. Camilla starts walking towards the temple district. She throws us a quick, annoyed glance to make sure we’re following her. “What’s with her?” I whisper. “I really don’t know,” Tinsae whispers back. “She’s never been like this.” She rethinks her words. “Well, not often.” That doesn’t sound good. With that, we start catching up on Camilla. <<button [[I'd really rather be with Quinn now, though.|c8_quinnsolo]]>><</button>> <<button [[I'm worried about Camilla.|c8_worriedcamilla]]>><</button>>

I turn to the voice of someone clearing their throat. Niall stands there in his rose-colored tunic and a purple cloak. He clears his throat again before frowning at my agitated state. “Is there a problem?” He aims his words at Marcus. Marcus shrugs and looks away. “Here to ruin the mood?” he asks. “I’m doing exactly that if your mood includes making Hati upset.” Marcus gives Niall a sarcastic smile. “How did you know?” “This is not a joke, you–” “Alright, you two, play nice,” I say, playing the intermediator. Not sure why I even bother. The fight would be a spectacle but it would draw in too many eyes. Niall breathes out and turns to ask me, “Can I come with?” <<button [["Sure, I don't mind." At all, actually. (love triangle route)|c8_lovetriangleroute]]>><</button>> <<button [[I find myself wanting to be alone with Marcus.|c8_solomarcus]]>><</button>> <<button [[I don't care either way. I would rather be here with Quinn.|c8_quinnsolo]]>><</button>>

\<<set $marcus_soloroute to true>> \<<if (($determined is true) or ($marcus_killer is true))>> I don't need Niall to make a mess of things. However, he looks like he's already coming with us. \<<else>> I frown at the thought. Why would I want to be alone with him? Ridiculous. <</if>>\ Niall rubs the back of his head, as if sensing my thoughts. “I can just– “Just come with us, this is getting embarrassing,” Marcus says. <<button [[Continue|c8_ritual]]>><</button>>

\<<set $lovetriangleroute to true>> If anything, at least I have an ally against Marcus. That’s the only reason, naturally. Not the fact that it’s fun to see them bicker. He gives me a bright smile. “That’s great.” He ignores his brother’s eyeroll and we’re off to the temple district. <<button [[Continue|c8_ritual]]>><</button>>

Maybe he’s the one who took them away from me in the first place but he helped me to get them back. He didn’t have to. Tears gather up to my eyes. To think that the torment of not knowing is over, at least when it comes to them. Relief washes over me, causing tears to fall down on my cheeks. Marcus looks at me with a small grimace on his face. “Are you crying?” he asks, as if willing it not to be true. I wipe the tears on my sleeve. “No.” He groans. “Can you… Manage?” \<<if $marcus_gift_insult is true>> “Do you have the handkerchief I gave you?” “That was one of the most insulting gifts I’ve ever received.” “So, no?” “No.” \<<elseif $marcus_gift_laugh is true>> “Do you have the handkerchief I gave you?” I start laughing at the thought. To think that he already found a way for me to use the damned thing. At least the reason is the happy kind this time. “You’re laughing,” he says, unsure if it’s a good kind of laugh or the one that means I’ve lost the last of my marbles. “The gift was stupid,” I say. “I tried my best.” He gives me a small pout. Still, hesitation and something else lingers on his features. \<<elseif $marcus_gift_nice is true>> “Do you have the handkerchief I gave you?” “Yes,” I admit. I do have it. He gives me a small smile with a nod. “So?” “So?” I ask but he looks at me expectantly. He waits for me to use it. With a sigh, I take it and use it to wipe the tears. He looks content. But then, his features grow more sullen. <</if>>\ “Afraid you’ll have to comfort me? To give me a hug?” “I will if you ask me to.” He looks pained by the prospect but willing to give it a try. I give him a suspicious glance. A hug from him? <<button [[“Yes. Comfort me.”|c8_marcuscomfort]]>><</button>> <<button [[“No, thank you.”|c8_marcusnocomfort]]>><</button>>

I will those tears not to fall, not in front of him. I look away and say again, “Thank you.” Maybe he’s the one who took Eoganan and Eithne away from me in the first place but he helped me to get them back. He didn’t have to. To think that the torment of not knowing is over, at least when it comes to them. “You shouldn’t thank me. Tinsae did the heavy lifting. Besides…” His throat moves as he swallows. “Still,” I insist. “Thank you.” He doesn’t know what to do with himself. Finally, he resorts to saying, “You’re… welcome.” It sounds more like a question than a statement. Of course he wouldn’t know what to do with himself. I smile at the thought. “Now you’re just mocking me,” he grumbles. “Just a little.” <<button [[Continue|c8_disbeliefmarcus]]>><</button>>

The words leave me before I can rethink them. If I did, maybe I wouldn’t have said them. But it’s out now. His usually smug gaze is filled with hesitation. He takes a deep breath and after one long stride, I find myself in his arms. He feels stiff as a board. I’m as stiff as he is, if not more so. His scent makes me almost dizzy. I take a deep breath, inhaling more of him. Little by little, my muscles start to relax. To think that he found them. “Thank you,” I say again. “You don’t need to–” “I want to.” He grunts at my stubborn response. “Fine. You’re welcome?” “Don’t ask that, just say it.” He sighs and I can feel his chest move against me. Slowly his muscles, too, become less tense. “You’re welcome,” he says, his voice low and silent, almost a whisper. Hearing him makes me smile a little. I linger for a while more. Tears stop flowing and I rub my wet cheeks on his tunic. He sighs. “Great, now I have to wash it.” “It’s my revenge,” I say and retreat from his embrace. He gives me a small laugh. <<button [[Continue|c8_disbeliefmarcus]]>><</button>>

He sighs in relief. “Thank Jupiter.” “Don’t thank that old man, thank me for my boundless kindness.” He grins, clearly happy that the conversation turns to more light. “Kind? You? In what world?” “Oh, so you want me to force you to hug me?” He quickly shakes his head. “Fine. Thank you, oh kind one. Want me to kiss the ground you’re walking on?” “Later tonight, perhaps. The ground is soggy and I’m merciful.” He chuckles. <<button [[Continue|c8_disbeliefmarcus]]>><</button>>

I zoned out again. “I need to go and lie down a bit. I…” “Alright,” Niall says, nodding his head in fierce agreement. Whatever he’s seeing on my face is making him concerned. “Let’s just go back to the barracks, alright?” With an absentminded nod, I start walking away from the temple and the dead ox. Frosty snow cracks underneath my boots, my visible breath flees my mouth in the cold morning sun. And I hear the sound of two men gossipping behind me. “Look at him, he’s walking in a daze.” Marcus’s voice. It sends a jolt of anger through me. Why can’t he just– “Shut up”, Niall growls at Marcus. “Don’t you know when to shut up?” “Well, excuse me for being worried over our friend’s wellbeing.” Niall grunts as a response. And Marcus continues, “Who knows if he’s possessed by a demon. He looks quite possessed at times. Have you noticed?” “Marcus,” Niall warns him. “He's losing it.” I hear Marcus whispering in Niall’s ear. Judging by the sound, Niall shoves him with his elbow. Quite hard, too. “Shut up!" With a sigh, I stop walking. They’re not even following me anymore. They’ve stopped to argue in the middle fo the road, and Marcus is cradling the place where Niall elbowed him. \<<if $niall_the_oaf isnot true>> <<button [[Continue|c8_smackdown]]>><</button>> \<<elseif $niall_the_oaf is true>> <<button [[Continue|nialltheoaf]]>><</button>> <</if>>

\<<set $fight to true>> Niall’s fists are tightened. The elbow wasn’t enough to shut Marcus up. “How dare you keep pestering him after all you’ve done.” The tone is aggressive, a growl of a bloodhound. That, finally, is something that shakes Marcus’s resolve. It wipes the grin out of his face. Niall continues, smelling the blood in the air. “How dare you keep poking $him like an arena animal?” Niall takes a step towards me, shielding me from Marcus. “You know?” Marcus asks with a little grin on his face, buying time. He quickly throws a glance at me. “Finally Hati told you about him?” he asks, regaining some of the posture he lost. “Finally you’re not the only one who doesn’t know?” Niall doesn’t let his words shake him. “$He told me when he felt safe enough to do so.” Niall takes a step towards Marcus. “You’ve made him scared for his life.” Marcus takes a step back. His mind must be running calculations. “I’ve helped–” He tries. “How? Hati should’ve been sent home already. Instead, you’ve been harassing him every step of the way. You’ve been leering at him in the baths, fully knowing that he could be found out at any moment–” “If you put it like that, it does sound–” \<<if $niall_truth_father is true>> “You murdered his…” Niall’s voice cracks as he raises his arm to shield me further. “His father. In front of his eyes.” “You don’t need to remind me,” Marcus says coldly. “Don’t I? Why are you here needling $him about the state of $his mind? The mind that you helped to shatter?” Marcus scoffs. “I shattered it? Oh, please–” Before I can object to the notion that my mind is shattered, Niall lunges at Marcus, tackling him into the snowbank. \<<else>> “You were there. You killed his people.” “You would’ve been there, too,” Marcus retorts. “No.” Niall quickly shakes his head. “I wasn’t–” His resolution shakes. If he was there, would things be any different? I chime in before Marcus gets the upper hand, “He killed my father.” “What?!” Niall barks, raising his arm to shield me further. My breathing quickens, finally I have someone who listens. “I saw it, too. He beheaded–” Before I can utter another word, Niall lunges at Marcus, tackling him into the snowbank. <</if>> Marcus is completely submerged in the deep snow as Niall holds him by his tunic’s collar. “You killed them all and you dare to rub it in his face?” Niall tries to punch Marcus but Marcus barely manages to hold his massive fist at bay. He won’t be so lucky next time, the next punch will land. Niall’s got the upper hand, and he's stronger. <<button [[Enjoy the show.|c8_enjoytheshow]]>><</button>> <<button [[Try to pull Niall off from Marcus.|c8_pullnialloff]]>><</button>> <<button [[Let them fight it off.|c8_letthemfight]]>><</button>>

“I don’t know what your deal is with Hati but I won’t tolerate this behavior anymore.” “What behavior?” Marcus asks with a small grin. “You know exactly what I’m talking about. You’re pestering him. He can’t go to the baths without you leering at him like a creep. You’re his superior officer. Act like one.” Marcus lets out a laugh. It shakes Niall’s conviction. “Still you don’t know about him?” Marcus asks. Oh, no. Marcus gives me a wide grin. “You haven’t told him? He’s here defending your honor like a blind fool. It’s breaking my heart.” Niall turns to me with a confused frown. “Told what?” \<<if $sex is "female">> Before I can say anything, Marcus says, “Hati is a fugitive. Part of the tribe we defeated in the North. On top of that, he's trying to hide what’s underneath his pants.” “Underneath…” Niall repeats the words, visibly confused. He takes a step away from me. “What?” “You’re smarter than you look, you must’ve had doubts. He really shouldn’t be here.” Niall grows ever more bewildered. \<<else>> Before I can say anything, Marcus says, “Hati is a fugitive. Part of the tribe we defeated in the North.” Niall takes a step away from me with a confused frown. “What?” <</if>> <<button [['“I wanted to tell you but there was no good timing.”'|c8_nogoodtiming]]>><</button>> <<button [[“Shut up, Marcus” I hiss.|c8_hissmarcus]]>><</button>> <<button [[Remain silent.|c8_remainsilent]]>><</button>> <<button [[“I wasn’t sure if you’d be able to keep the secret,” I say.|c8_nosuresecret]]>><</button>>

And it’s a joy to see. I can’t help but to smile at the sight of Marcus being pinned beneath the man shouting nothing but truths in his face. To look at Marcus getting the brunt of the consequences of his actions. Another punch. A sickening sound of bone cracking fills the air. That one landed straight on Marcus’s nose. \<<if $marcus_punch is true>> The sound of his nose breaking is already too sweet and familiar. <</if>>\ Is this enough? Should I interfere? <<button [[Yes. Pull Niall off Marcus.|c8_pullnialloff1]]>><</button>> <<button [[No. I need to see more blood!|c8_moreblood]]>><</button>>

While I can appreciate the gesture of defending me, no one benefits from this. “Niall, stop that,” I command him. But it’s like he doesn’t hear me. “Niall!” Instead, he punches Marcus again. And this time, the punch lands. The sound of Marcus’s nose breaking fills the air. \<<if $marcus_punch is true>> The very same nose I broke once already. It hasn’t even healed properly yet. <</if>>\ “Niall!” I grab his hand, raised to punch Marcus again. \<<if (($build is "average") or ($build is "lithe"))>> Niall swings his arm, trying to get rid of whatever’s holding his wrath at bay. And I fall on my behind on the icy road. “Ah!” I shout. The sound finally makes Niall snap out of his daze. At least he stops. Then, he turns to me, his eyes clearing from their haze. When he realizes what happened, he shouts. “Hati!” He runs to me, holding my hand gently with his bloodied hand. “What?” he asks, as if he doesn’t realize what happened. When he sees the blood on his hand, he frowns and lets go of me. \<<elseif $build is "muscular">> He tries to swing his hand, probably to get me off him. But I hold my ground, managing to contain the beast despite its best efforts to the contrary. Niall growls like an animal before turning to look at who dares to deny him the right to punish his brother for his sins. When he sees me, the haze in his eyes slowly clears. “Hati?” He looks at the fist I’m holding. It has Marcus’s blood on it. “Oh, gods,” he mutters, getting up. He looks at his hands. He blinks. He looks at Marcus in the snow. <</if>> <<button [[Continue|c8_marcusgroans]]>><</button>>

\<<set $fight_bystander to true>> I’m not sure what else to do than to watch them. Niall reminds me of an enraged bull. Technically, I could try to stop Niall. But I’m not sure if I care enough. Besides, I doubt he’d actually kill Marcus in broad daylight. If he did, it would be a weird turn of events for this Saturnalia. The sound of blood gurgling fills the air. Marcus can’t breathe through his freshly broken nose. Niall prepares for another blow. I wonder if this one will be Marcus’s last? <<button [["Lord Tribune!" Someone shouts.|c8_lordtribune]]>><</button>>

\<<set $psycho to true>> I wonder how far Niall will take this? Will Marcus’s face be nothing but a mess of mangled meat and bone shards in the end? Will he… die? How exciting! I almost clap my hands at the thought but manage to stifle the urge. Wouldn’t want to appear too unhinged. Marcus’s defeated gurgles of blood in his mouth caress my ears. If I had known Niall was capable of killing his brother in the broad daylight, I would’ve chosen his company sooner. It’s like having my very own attack dog. <<button [["Lord Tribune!" Someone shouts.|c8_lordtribune]]>><</button>>

I wouldn’t mind watching Niall beat Marcus for the rest of the day but enough is enough. Besides, there are a couple of nosey soldiers gathering around us already. “Alright, Niall, let him go now,” I say. But it’s like he doesn’t hear me. “Niall!” Instead, he punches Marcus again. “Niall!” I grab his hand, raised for another attack. \<<if (($build is "average") or ($build is "lithe"))>> Niall swings his arm, trying to get rid of whatever’s holding his wrath at bay. And I fall on my behind on the icy road. “Ah!” I shout. The sound finally makes Niall snap out of his daze. At least he stops. Then, he turns to me, his eyes clearing from their haze. When he realizes what happened, he shouts. “Hati!” He runs to me, holding my hand gently with his bloodied hand. “What?” he asks, as if he doesn’t realize what happened. When he sees the blood on his hand, he frowns and lets go of me. \<<elseif $build is "muscular">> He tries to swing his hand, probably to get me off him. But I hold my ground, managing to contain the beast despite its best efforts to the contrary. Niall growls like an animal before turning to look at who dares to deny him the right to punish his brother for his sins. When he sees me, the haze in his eyes slowly clears. “Hati?” He looks at the fist I’m holding. It has Marcus’s blood on it. “Oh, gods,” he mutters, getting up. He looks at his hands. He blinks. He looks at Marcus in the snow. <</if>> <<button [[Continue|c8_marcusgroans]]>><</button>>

\<<set $fight_bystander to true>> <<if $psycho is true>> I grimace at the sound, at the sight of soldiers rushing to placate the bull. They ruined it. \<<else>> A group of soldiers rush to placate the bull. <</if>>\ It takes 4 grown men to yank the enraged tower of a man from his victim. Niall breathes heavily, angrily, still under whatever spell his mind is under. It takes everything for him not to rush back and continue beating Marcus. <<if (($dummy is true) and ($manipulated is true))>> The sight is brutal. His hands are bloodied, his eyes filled with rage. Pure, unfiltered rage. It looks familiar. Something I’ve felt in my heart, too. \<<elseif (($dummy is true) and ($manipulated is true))>> The sight is brutal. His hands are bloodied, his eyes filled with rage. Pure, unfiltered rage. It looks familiar. Something I’ve felt in my heart, too. Something that feels so foreign to me in the first place. Does it feel familiar to him, I wonder? \<<elseif (($dummy is true) and ($manipulated isnot true))>> The sight is brutal. His hands are bloodied, his eyes filled with rage. Pure, unfiltered rage. It looks familiar. Something I’ve felt in my heart, too. \<<elseif $dummy isnot true>> Wait. A spell? Could it be? I look around, getting a feel of the area. Getting a sense of who might be watching the scene. I wonder if– <</if>>\ Then, I feel Niall’s gaze heavily on me. Slowly, the haze in his eyes starts to clear. It’s replaced by confusion. He looks at his hands. He blinks. He looks at Marcus in the snow. The soldiers are pulling him up. Another blink. His eyes widen in horror. “Gods,” I can see him mutter under his breath. He looks at his hands like he doesn’t quite understand what he’s seeing. <<button [[Continue|c8_marcusgroans]]>><</button>>

“Ah, fuck,” Marcus groans on the ground in a deep, snowy crevice. He gets up to his shaky feet. With great effort, he manages to almost look like he didn’t just get hit by a meat-wagon. And didn't almost just get killed by his own brother. \<<if $lovetriangleroute is true>> <<button [[Tend to Marcus|c8_tendtomarcus]]>><</button>> <<button [[Console Niall.|c8_consoleniall]]>><</button>> <<button [[Try to do both at the same time.|c8_sametimes]]>><</button>> <<button [[Rush to Niall to give him a price for what he did with a smile on my face.|c8_derangedsmile]]>><</button>> \<<elseif $niall_soloroute is true>> “Niall,” I say, taking a step towards him. He takes a step back and looks away. “Don’t look at me,” he groans, hunching his shoulders, stepping away from me. “Niall,” I repeat. “Calm down.” He takes a shaky breath. My words got through to him. In the background, Marcus is taking shaky steps towards the town, probably to meet with his doctor. He’ll manage. Even if I didn’t care about that, Niall does. His large frame shakes like a leaf in a storm. <<button [["Follow me," I order him. We need to talk in private.|c8_followme]]>><</button>> <<button [[“Let's just go, alright?” I ask.|c8_comealright?]]>><</button>> <<button [[Give him a hug first. He looks absolutely broken.|c8_niallhug]]>><</button>> <<button [[Rush to Niall to give him a price for what he did with a smile on my face.|c8_derangedsmile]]>><</button>> <</if>>

Niall’s gaze is filled with shame as he looks at his brother, trying to make the blood stop from pouring from his nose. I take a step towards Niall, and he quickly retracts from me. “No,” he says. “Please take care of Marcus.” I sigh. Fine. Marcus gives me a bloody grin when I approach him. It’s a miracle his teeth are still intact. “Are you going to kiss me better?” Did I expect something else to leave his bloody mouth after almost leaving this world? I suppose I didn’t. <<button [["Gods, you're an idiot," I mutter and check the damage.|c8_idiotmarcusdamage]]>><</button>> <<button [['"Do you want to get punched again?"'|c8_punchagain?]]>><</button>> <<button [[Remain silent and check the damage.|c8_checkthedamage]]>><</button>>

I take a step towards him, away from Niall. From the corner of my eye I can see Niall shrinking to himself in shame. Marcus gives me a bloody grin. It’s a miracle his teeth are still intact. “Are you going to kiss me better?” Did I expect something else to leave his bloody mouth after almost leaving this world? I suppose I didn’t. <<button [["Gods, you're an idiot," I mutter and check the damage.|c8_idiotmarcusdamage]]>><</button>> <<button [['"Do you want to get punched again?"'|c8_punchagain?]]>><</button>> <<button [[Remain silent and check the damage.|c8_checkthedamage]]>><</button>>

“Niall,” I say, taking a step towards him. He takes a step back and looks away. “Don’t look at me,” he sobs, hunching his shoulders, stepping away from me. “Niall,” I repeat. “Calm down.” He takes a shaky breath. My words got through to him. In the background, Marcus is taking shaky steps towards the town, probably to meet with his doctor. <<button [["Follow me," I order him. We need to talk in private.|c8_followme]]>><</button>> <<button [[“Let's just go, alright?” I ask.|c8_comealright?]]>><</button>> <<button [[Give him a hug first.|c8_niallhug]]>><</button>>

Meekly, he nods and with his head hung low, he starts following me like a dog to the barracks. He’s quiet for the rest of the walk. I guide him toward the barracks and back to his office. <<button [[Continue|c8_barracksniall]]>><</button>>

It takes him a moment to realize what I’m saying. Then, finally, he nods meekly and takes a step towards me, letting me guide him wherever I need him. I guide him toward the barracks and back to his office. <<button [[Continue|c8_barracksniall]]>><</button>>

\<<if $marcus_sex is true>> Marcus nods. “Right, because $he eagerly assaulted my dick and made me cum in your–” “Shut up,” I hiss at him. But it’s too late, Niall’s eyes are already wide as plates. “Cum in my–” “Pool, yes,” Marcus says with a nod. Niall gasps for air and takes another step back away from me. Marcus rubs the back of his neck. “This got a little more awkward than I anticipated…” What did he expect, exactly? Of course Niall would get hurt by his words. Now he looks surprised by the fact? \<<else>> “No good timing,” Niall repeats after me, slightly soothed by the information. It makes it more palatable in his mind. Bad timing isn’t his fault, not something he can control with his actions. “No good timing, other than the months you’ve known by now,” Marcus chimes in, giving his brother a faux sympathetic look. It’s difficult to say what his aim is in this situation. Does he want to hurt me for leading his brother on? Or just in general? Niall is the one hurting the most in this situation. Niall sinks back to himself, beaten by Marcus’s words. <</if>> <<button [[Continue|c8_marcusshouldbegoing]]>><</button>>

But the damage is already done. Niall looks like he’s about to crumble from the touch. He looks betrayed. To think that his brother has known for months now, while he’s been in the dark. And he didn’t learn it from me. Marcus gives me a small smirk. <<button [[Continue|c8_marcusshouldbegoing]]>><</button>>

There isn’t much else to say. I could tell Marcus off but what good would it do? He’s all too happy with himself that he got the last laugh. Even if it was at his brother’s expense. So, instead, I choose silence. So does Niall. His chest rises and falls quickly, he’s unsure where to look. <<button [[Continue|c8_marcusshouldbegoing]]>><</button>>

It’s as if my words were just another stab at his heart. He looks me in the eyes, deeply hurt. “I’m sorry,” he says. ‘Sorry that I couldn’t be worthy of your trust.’ “Niall,” I say. “You don’t have to–” Marcus sighs dramatically. “He thought you were a gossiper, brother. Or too dumb to keep your mouth shut.” <<button [[Continue|c8_marcusshouldbegoing]]>><</button>>

“Well, I should be going,” Marcus says. “I think you should clear the air between you two.” Niall quickly shakes his head. “No.” That’s all he manages to say before running away. Marcus and I look at him leave. Marcus gives me a shrug. “Well, there he went.” “You did that on purpose.” “Of course. But at least he knows now. See you in the evening.” With that, he turns on his heels and starts walking back towards the town. \<<if (($fire is true) or ($determined is true) or ($marcus_killer is true))>> It takes everything in me not to run after him, tackle him, and smash his head against a rock. <</if>>\ He did this to hurt me, Niall got caught in the crossfire. I turn my head back to the direction where Niall went. I doubt he’d appreciate me running after him. I can only hope he can forgive me after the initial shock has worn off. \<<if (($quinn_lover is true) or ($quinn_first_pick is true) and ($quinn_afraid isnot true))>> With a sigh, I start walking towards the barracks. I should probably try to find Quinn. Something tells me $q_he’s nearby. <<button [[Continue|quinn_secondpick]]>><</button>> <</if>> With a sigh, I start walking towards the barracks. It’s time to prepare for the evening. <<button [[Continue|Saturnalia]]>><</button>>

“I try my best,” he says, managing to hold the painful grin on his face. His nose is broken. His lip is split. I hold two fingers for him to see. “How many?” “Fingers?” he asks. "No, toes." I roll my eyes. His chuckle turns into a painful cough. After recovering, he squints his eyes. “Ten?” “You need to lie down. Now.” “How forceful–” “I’m not kidding. You could have a concussion.” Marcus sighs wearily. “Where’s Niall?” I turn to look at where he was before. No one’s there. He left. “We should focus on you first.” I lend him my shoulder and we begin the slow walk back to the barracks. <<button [[Continue|c8_barracksmarcus]]>><</button>>

He flinches at my words. It makes him look pathetic. “I was kidding,” I say, unsure if I was. But I can’t kick a man who’s already on the figurative ground beaten so badly. Not even when it’s him. His nose is broken. His lip is split. I hold two fingers for him to see. “How many?” “Fingers?” he asks, evidently trying to come up with something funny. When his beaten brain comes up with nothing, he sighs and squints. “Ten?” “You need to lie down. Now.” “How forceful–” “I’m not kidding. You could have a concussion.” Marcus sighs wearily. “Where’s Niall?” I turn to look at where he was before. No one’s there. He left. “We should focus on you first.” I lend him my shoulder and we begin the slow walk back to the barracks. <<button [[Continue|c8_barracksmarcus]]>><</button>>

His nose is broken. His lip is split. I hold two fingers for him to see. “How many?” “Fingers?” he asks, evidently trying to come up with something funny. When his beaten brain comes up with nothing, he sighs and squints. “Ten?” “You need to lie down. Now.” “How forceful–” “I’m not kidding. You could have a concussion.” Marcus sighs wearily. “Where’s Niall?” I turn to look at where he was before. No one’s there. He left. “We should focus on you first.” I lend him my shoulder and we begin the slow walk back to the barracks. <<button [[Continue|c8_barracksmarcus]]>><</button>>

!!Back at the barracks I pour vinegar on Marcus’s nose, making him wince in pain, despite his best efforts to remain unbothered. “You don’t need to act tough with me,” I say. “I don’t act,” he says with a grin. “I just survived Niall. I am pretty tough.” I do have to agree. \<<if $fight_bystander is true>> <<button [["I tried to get him off you. He didn't budge." A lie.|c8_liebudge]]>><</button>> <<button [["I wanted to see you mangled but the soldiers pulled Niall off you."|c8_mangledmarcus]]>><</button>> \<<else>> <<button [["I wanted to see you mangled but the soldiers pulled Niall off you."|c8_afraidniall]]>><</button>> <<button [["I tried to get him off you. He didn't budge." It's the truth.|c8_truthbudge]]>><</button>> <</if>>\

But it’s a lie he must wish was true. So, instead of doubting me, he lets out a dry laugh. “He’s a bull when he’s angry. There’s no getting to him in that state.” “Isn’t that concerning?” “His wrath is just,” Marcus says with a small shrug. “He looked like he was ready to kill you.” “That would’ve been embarrassing for me, yes.” Interesting. Despite what happened, he doesn’t hold Niall responsible. “I’m just surprised that Niall is capable of such violence.” He frowns, not sure what to say. It must’ve surprised him, too. But there’s something preventing him from accusing his brother for the assault. \<<if $fight_bystander is true>> <<button [[Most likely, Niall wasn't fully in control of himself.|c8_quinnsus]]>><</button>> \<<else>> <<button [[Continue|c8_nosegrimace]]>><</button>> <</if>>\

“Good thing they were there,” he says in a small, pondering voice. I raise my brow at the non-comment. He sighs. “Are you expecting a shocked gasp? Of course I know you want nothing more than to watch me die.” Good that we’re on the same page about that. “He would’ve killed you if they didn’t intervene.” “That would’ve been embarrassing for me, yes.” Despite what happened, he doesn’t hold Niall responsible. Interesting. “I’m just surprised that Niall is capable of such violence.” He frowns, not sure what to say. It must’ve surprised him, too. But there’s something preventing him from accusing his brother for the assault. \<<if $fight_bystander is true>> <<button [[Most likely, Niall wasn't fully in control of himself.|c8_quinnsus]]>><</button>> \<<else>> I should probably ask Niall about this later. <<button [[Continue|c8_nosegrimace]]>><</button>> <</if>>\

Marcus lets out a dry laugh. “He’s a bull when he’s angry. There’s no getting to him in that state.” “Isn’t that concerning?” “His wrath is just,” Marcus says with a small shrug. “He looked like he was ready to kill you.” “That would’ve been embarrassing for me, yes.” I sigh. Despite what happened, he doesn’t hold Niall responsible. Do I? <<button [[Yes. I realize I'm terrified of him.|c8_niallterrified]]>><</button>> <<button [[I need to talk with him later.|c8_nosegrimace]]>><</button>>

Yet, Marcus acts like this isn’t out of character for him. I wonder why? “Is it normal for Niall to almost beat you to death?” I ask. “Normal?” He chuckles at the implication. “It’s not like he’s doing it on a daily basis, no. But…” He touches his swollen cheek, checking the damage. Then, instead of continuing his line of thought, he just shakes his head, refusing to analyze his brother’s actions further. Something is holding him back. Does he think he deserved the beating? That would require a consciousness of one’s actions that I never thought he’d be capable of. I should probably ask Niall about this later. <<button [[Continue|c8_nosegrimace]]>><</button>>

I grimace at the sight of his nose. It’s bad. “Your nose needs to be realigned,” I say. Snow will help with the swelling but the bones are all mangled. If he doesn’t want to live with a crooked nose, he needs to get that fixed. “Want to do the honors?” he asks, clearly joking. “To cause you more pain?” <<button [["Of course," I say with a nod.|c8_eagerpain]]>><</button>> <<button [['"No, you need something to dull the pain."'|c8_dullpain]]>><</button>>

Marcus frowns, as if I was the unreasonable one. “Don’t look so grim. I deserved this.” \<<if $determined is true>> “You did, but it makes Niall look…” “Unhinged? No. He’s just…” He searches for the right word, as if it would save the situation. “Emotional.” I raise my brow at the excuse. “Don’t look at me like that. Tend to my wounds, soldier.” I roll my eyes at the command. \<<else>> “Why do you say that?” I ask. He frowns. “Why do you even ask that?” I… Don’t know. After what he did, I should wish for his early demise. But here I am, tending to him. He looks at me weirdly. Like there was something wrong with me. I clear my throat and focus on his injuries. <</if>>\ I suppose I should talk with Niall later. <<button [[Continue|c8_nosegrimace]]>><</button>>

And he starts laughing. “I love that you’re so eager but I think I’ll trust my physician to do it.” I give him a small pout of disappointment. “Now, now,” Marcus says, placating my feelings with his raised, bruised hands. “You can mutilate me later. I just need to be certain that my handsome features aren’t damaged too much.” “You promise I can maim you later?” “It’s a date.” He chuckles. That causes him to start coughing. “You cough like a pathetic old man.” “Gods, you’re ruthless even on my deathbed.” He laughs. “Didn’t expect anything else.” <<button [[Continue|c8_doctorisinthehouse]]>><</button>>

I look at the nose with a frown on my face. “Wine. Maybe even some poppies.” “You want my pain to be soothed?” he asks, as if he’s genuinely surprised by that. I shrug. “I’m not thrilled by your pain.” \<<if (($determined is true) or ($marcus_killer is true) or ($psycho is true))>> <<button [['"My bloodthirst has been quenched by the sight of your mangled face."' It's the truth.|c8_quenchedbloodthirst]]>><</button>> <<button [[It's a lie but I have a sense that he wants to believe it.|c8_liarmarcus]]>><</button>> \<<else>> <<button [[He gives me a dubious look. "Really?"|c8_really??]]>><</button>> <</if>>\

He gives me a dubious look. “What? I’m not.” “Aren’t you here on a potential murder spree?” I shrug. Maybe I’ve changed my ways? Maybe he wants to believe it. <<button [[Continue|c8_doctorisinthehouse]]>><</button>>

He nods. “That makes sense.” Does it? Does any of this? I chuckle at the thought. “You’re truly deranged,” Marcus says with a wide smile on his face. “Look who’s talking,” I say with another chuckle. <<button [[Continue|c8_doctorisinthehouse]]>><</button>>

“Really,” I say with a tired sigh. Maybe I should be. Maybe this would be easier if I was. “How weird of you,” he says. “How weird of you to expect that I was.” “Maybe…” The conversation itself is peculiar and I can’t help but to be glad when it’s run its course. <<button [[Continue|c8_doctorisinthehouse]]>><</button>>

!!Outside Finally, the doctor arrived and my presence was no longer needed. Although, I don’t know if it was that in the first place. \<<if (($quinn_lover is true) or ($quinn_first_pick is true) and ($quinn_afraid isnot true))>> I should probably try to find Quinn. Something tells me $q_he’s nearby. <<button [[Continue|quinn_secondpick]]>><</button>> <</if>> It’s time to prepare for the evening. <<button [[Continue|Saturnalia]]>><</button>>

!!Back at the barracks He sits on the couch with his hands securely hidden in between his legs. His breath hitches when I sit next to him with a bottle of vinegar in my hand. He doesn’t turn to look at me when I take his hand, he surrenders it into my care. Reluctantly, yes, but surrenders it nonetheless. Vinegar washes off the blood from his knuckles. He takes it without wincing, his gaze locked to his hands. Still, he’s silent. <<button [[Remain silent, too. I don't know what to say.|c8_remainsilentniall]]>><</button>> <<button [["I was afraid of you," I admit.|c8_afraidniall1]]>><</button>> <<button [["You have nothing to be ashamed of," I say.|c8_noshameniall]]>><</button>> <<button [[Kiss his bloody knuckles. He deserves a treat for what he did.|c8_kissknuckles]]>><</button>>

Sure, Marcus may be physically broken but it doesn’t look like Niall wanted it to happen. Why? What could’ve possibly made him snap like that? Neverminding the question, at least for now, I open my arms and look at him with determination. “No, I don’t–” he says, trying to flee. But it’s too late. I’m already holding his large, trembling frame. He wheezes in a futile protest when my arms curl around him, when I press my head against him. \<<if (($height is "average") or ($height is "short"))>> His heart beats like a small animal trying to escape his chest. <</if>>\ Then, he sighs, his tense muscles relaxing just a little. “It’s alright,” I say what he needs to hear. “Marcus is fine.” He lets out another shaky breath. It’s not alright, he knows it. It won’t be alright in his mind for a long while, not after hundreds of apologies that will feel insufficient and meaningless. But it still comforts him to hear it. That I think so. He takes a few more breaths. It helps with the shaking. That, and me squeezing my arms around him a little tighter. Whatever happened to you, I’m not leaving you alone with it. Finally, when he feels ready for a walk, I turn to look at him. “Let’s go,” I say. He gives me a meek nod before looking at the ground. He doesn’t want to meet my gaze. I guide him toward the barracks and back to his office. <<button [[Continue|c8_barracksniall]]>><</button>>

I don’t know what to think of this. All I can do is to focus on his bloody knuckles. I wash them carefully. Marcus’s blood washes off, leaving behind small scrapes that will heal in a day. Then, we just sit there. Not a word is uttered out loud, despite the air feeling heavy and awkward. Finally, he says, “There is no excuses.” He shrinks to himself, looking more like a lost puppy than the warhound he just was. I give him an expectant look. He looks into the distance, his gaze unfocused and unseeing. Finally, he says in a small voice, “I just thought of you. Your father. Your pain. Your… I’m sorry,” he whispers. He just saw Marcus pestering me again, making fun of my head when it was Marcus himself who… caused it. I sigh. It does make sense. I’m still unsure what to say. \<<if (($determined is true) or ($marcus_killer is true))>> However, I’ve been meaning to kill Marcus myself. That, and he has a punchable face. \<<else>> Marcus has been cruel. I’m not sure if he deserved the beating he got but… <</if>>\ “I don’t know what to say,” I admit. “I understand,” he says silently. "I don't expect you to say anything." He gives me a small, weak smile. \<<if (($dummy isnot true) and ($fight_bystander is true))>> <<button [[Something is not adding up.|c8_smartbystander]]>><</button>> \<<else>> “I need to see Marcus,” he says. I nod. With that, he stands up in a hurry. He gives me an apologetic look. “I… Uh. Thank you for… Thank you.” I give him a nod and he’s off, leaving me to his office alone. The scent of dry herbs is pleasant enough, and I take a moment to enjoy it. <</if>> \<<if (($quinn_lover is true) or ($quinn_first_pick is true) and ($quinn_afraid isnot true))>> I should probably try to find Quinn. Something tells me $q_he’s nearby. <<button [[Continue|quinn_secondpick]]>><</button>> <</if>> What an eventful start of Saturnalia. <<button [[Continue|Saturnalia]]>><</button>>

\<<set $niall_afraid to true>> The pain in his eyes deepens. It forces him to look away. “I’m sorry you had to see that.” I look at his knuckles accusingly, not ready to meet his gaze either. “You almost killed him.” “There is no excuse.” He shrinks to himself, looking more like a lost puppy than the warhound he just was. He lost control. “Do you remember what happened?” I ask, still willing to give him grace despite what happened. He looks into the distance, his gaze unfocused and unseeing. Finally, he says in a small voice, “I just thought of you. Your father. Your pain. Your… I’m sorry,” he whispers. He just saw Marcus pestering me again, making fun of my head when it was Marcus himself who… caused it. I sigh. It does make sense, in a way. \<<if $determined is true>> Haven't I felt the urge to do the same? <</if>> <<button [['"I forgive you."'|c8_forgiveniall]]>><</button>> <<button [["I just don't understand." Something doesn't add up.|c8_noaduppniall]]>><</button>>

The words leave me easily enough. I can’t hold this against him. The thought of him being capable of something like this will haunt me but I have to forgive him. \<<if (($determined is true) or ($marcus_killer is true))>> Especially when I’m ready to kill Marcus myself. \<<else>> Marcus has been cruel. I’m not sure if he deserved the beating he got but… <</if>>\ “No.” The thought almost makes me laugh. “I’ve seen monsters. You’re not one of them.” My words aren’t enough to convince him, at least for today. He flinches when I reach for his hand. Then, he gives in, accepting his fate with a defeated sigh. I take his big hand in my lap. “It’s alright,” I repeat. Neither of us quite believe it but it needs to be said. And it seems to help Niall, just a little. \<<if (($dummy isnot true) and ($fight_bystander is true))>> <<button [[Something is not adding up.|c8_smartbystander]]>><</button>> \<<else>> “I need to see Marcus,” he says, taking his hand back. There’s urgency in his tone. “You should," I agree. With that, he stands up in a hurry. He gives me an apologetic look. “I… Uh. Thank you for… Thank you.” I give him a nod and he’s off, leaving me to his office alone. The scent of dry herbs is pleasant enough, and I take a moment to enjoy it. <</if>> \<<if (($quinn_lover is true) or ($quinn_first_pick is true) and ($quinn_afraid isnot true))>> I should probably try to find Quinn. Something tells me $q_he’s nearby. <<button [[Continue|quinn_secondpick]]>><</button>> <</if>> What an eventful start of Saturnalia. <<button [[Continue|Saturnalia]]>><</button>>

How could you beat your own brother like that? What else is he capable of? Niall shakes his head. “I’m sorry,” he whispers and looks at his hands. \<<if $dummy is true>> This isn’t going to be resolved today. All I can do is to sit in silence with him. \<<else>> There is something missing from this picture, something that feels off. A sudden, uncontrollable spout of violence and anger. It doesn’t feel like him. <</if>> \<<if (($dummy isnot true) and ($fight_bystander is true))>> <<button [[Something is not adding up.|c8_smartbystander]]>><</button>> \<<else>> “We need to talk about your anger management,” is what I would say if I had that issue figured out in my own life. Anger makes me impulsive at times, even if I haven’t beaten anyone to death's door lately. With a sigh, I rub the back of my neck. Niall imitates my sigh and rakes his hair with too much force with his newly cleaned hands. “I need to see Marcus,” he says. There’s urgency in his tone. “You should," I agree. With that, he stands up in a hurry. He gives me an apologetic look. “I… Uh. Thank you for… Thank you.” I give him a nod and he’s off, leaving me to his office alone. The scent of dry herbs is pleasant enough, and I take a moment to enjoy it. <</if>> \<<if (($quinn_lover is true) or ($quinn_first_pick is true) and ($quinn_afraid isnot true))>> I should probably try to find Quinn. Something tells me $q_he’s nearby. <<button [[Continue|quinn_secondpick]]>><</button>> <</if>> What an eventful start of Saturnalia. <<button [[Continue|Saturnalia]]>><</button>>

His breath hitches when my lips touch his skin. “What are you doing?” he asks, his voice hoarse with emotion. “Giving you your price,” I say, placing another gentle kiss on his bruised skin. His blood mixes with Marcus’s. There’s so much more of Marcus’s blood still stuck on his skin. Finally, he asks, “But… Aren’t you scared of me?” “No,” I say between the small, bloody kisses. “You did it for me and I appreciate it.” “But I could’ve killed him,” he says. <<button [['"But you didn't."'|c8_youdidntniall]]>><</button>> <<button [['"Good. Try harder next time."'|c8_tryharderniall]]>><</button>>

I take his hand on my lap. He’s too stunned by my words to fight back. He frowns in confusion. “How can you say that?” “Because he deserved every bit of it. He would’ve deserved more.” “But…” He frowns in confusion. “More would’ve killed him.” I give him a pointed look. Exactly what I mean. He takes his hand back with a terrified gasp. But he doesn’t say anything. He doesn’t have words to defend himself, not after what he did. He sits there with his defenses down, completely vulnerable, and ready for every bit of kindness he yearns but knows he doesn’t deserve. I take his hand, again. This time, he accepts his fate. <<button [['"But you didn't."'|c8_youdidntniallnokiss]]>><</button>> <<button [['"Good. Try harder next time."'|c8_tryharderniallnokiss]]>><</button>>

He yanks his hand back, cradling it against his chest. “There won’t be a next time.” I smile at his words. “Whatever you say.” “No, you need to believe me. I will never do that again.” I don’t say anything, I just smile. Then. “Can I have your hand back?” He lets out a shaky breath. Finally, as if defeated, he gives his hand back. “Good,” I say with a smile. He doesn’t look happy about the compliment but lets me place another gentle kiss on his mangled hand. It lingers as I inhale the coppery sweet scent of Marcus’s blood. “You’re weird,” he inhales the words, trying to take them back as they come out. He knows he should be accusing anyone at this moment. “I’m sorry,” he mutters. I don’t even have to reprimand him to get an apology. I give him a meaningful glance with his hand hovering on my lips. \<<if $loud_pervert is true>> “Don’t tell me you’re not a little excited?” I accentuate the question with the tip of my tongue, licking the blood off his bloody hand. Blood and vinegar dance on my tongue. His eyes are wide as plates by now. His gaze follows my tongue. “I can see that you are, Niall.” I look at his erection. “I–” Nothing else comes out of his mouth, despite the apparent effort. It makes me smile. “Want me to lend you a hand?” I ask, helpfully. His eyes widen even more. He shakes his head. “No,” he whispers. “No, I don’t feel like–” “You don’t feel like it?” I grin. He starts coughing, apparently choking on his own spit. Classic Niall. I sigh. Fine. Enough teasing. \<<elseif $shy_pervert is true>> I give his hand another kiss with my eyes fixated on his bloody knuckles. A hint of blush threatens to rise to my cheeks when I realize what I’m doing. I look at him, and, without much thought, lick my lips. They taste of vinegar and blood. Niall’s eyes are wide as plates by now. His gaze follows my every move. Instinctively, my gaze drops to his lap. His erection is quite prominent by now. “Oh,” I say. I clear my throat and give him a small smile. “Want me to lend you a hand?” That’s it, that makes Niall’s face completely red. That, in turn, makes my cheeks heated. His eyes widen even more at the sight of my heated cheeks. He shakes his head. “No,” he whispers. “No,” he repeats. I let out a little laugh. “Fine.” \<<elseif $oblivious is true>> Absent-mindedly, completely focused on his face, I give his knuckle a little lick with the tip of my tongue. Blood and vinegar dance on my tongue. His eyes are wide as plates by now. His gaze follows my every move. I fight against the blush that’s about to rise to my cheeks when I realize what I’m doing. Niall’s face is completely red, too. And something else catches my eye in between his legs. Oh, no. Maybe this is enough for now. I clear my throat and give him a small smile. He looks away, his face completely flushed. The sight makes me smile. He’s cute. A cute little attack dog. \<<else>> With a blush, he looks away. The sight makes me smile. He’s cute. A cute little attack dog. <</if>>\ <<button [[Continue|c8_appreciateniall]]>><</button>>

“But… I could’ve,” he insists. I remain silent. He doesn’t need to hear me say that I wouldn’t have minded. He knows it but he doesn’t want to hear it. It makes it more real in his mind. So, I play the gentle caregiver, soothing his mind, choosing not to provoke him further. There is no need for that. Instead, I give his hand another kiss. It lingers as I inhale the coppery sweet scent of Marcus’s blood. “You’re weird,” he inhales the words, trying to take them back as they come out. He knows he should be accusing anyone at this moment. “I’m sorry,” he mutters. I don’t even have to reprimand him to get an apology. I give him a meaningful glance with his hand hovering on my lips. \<<if $loud_pervert is true>> “Don’t tell me you’re not a little excited?” I accentuate the question with the tip of my tongue, licking the blood off his bloody hand. Blood and vinegar dance on my tongue. His eyes are wide as plates by now. His gaze follows my tongue. “I can see that you are, Niall.” I look at his erection. “I–” Nothing else comes out of his mouth, despite the apparent effort. It makes me smile. “Want me to lend you a hand?” I ask, helpfully. His eyes widen even more. He shakes his head. “No,” he whispers. “No, I don’t feel like–” “You don’t feel like it?” I grin. He starts coughing, apparently choking on his own spit. Classic Niall. I sigh. Fine. Enough teasing. \<<elseif $shy_pervert is true>> I give his hand another kiss with my eyes fixated on his bloody knuckles. A hint of blush threatens to rise to my cheeks when I realize what I’m doing. I look at him, and, without much thought, lick my lips. They taste of vinegar and blood. Niall’s eyes are wide as plates by now. His gaze follows my every move. Instinctively, my gaze drops to his lap. His erection is quite prominent by now. “Oh,” I say. I clear my throat and give him a small smile. “Want me to lend you a hand?” That’s it, that makes Niall’s face completely red. That, in turn, makes my cheeks heated. His eyes widen even more at the sight of my heated cheeks. He shakes his head. “No,” he whispers. “No,” he repeats. I let out a little laugh. “Fine.” \<<elseif $oblivious is true>> Absent-mindedly, completely focused on his face, I give his knuckle a little lick with the tip of my tongue. Blood and vinegar dance on my tongue. His eyes are wide as plates by now. His gaze follows my every move. I fight against the blush that’s about to rise to my cheeks when I realize what I’m doing. Niall’s face is completely red, too. And something else catches my eye in between his legs. Oh, no. Maybe this is enough for now. I clear my throat and give him a small smile. He looks away, his face completely flushed. The sight makes me smile. He’s cute. A cute little attack dog. \<<else>> With a blush, he looks away. The sight makes me smile. He’s cute. A cute little attack dog. <</if>>\ <<button [[Continue|c8_appreciateniall]]>><</button>>

“I appreciate you,” I say. That’s what he needs to hear at a time like this, when he’s confused and terrified by his own actions, when he’s afraid of himself, afraid of my judgment. That I accept him as he is, even when he doesn't. My words melt the tension off his shoulders just a little bit. He doesn’t ask any more questions because he doesn’t want to hear the answer. It’s better to be quiet, to let me tend to him. \<<if (($dummy isnot true) and ($fight_bystander is true))>> Even if what happened doesn't really move me one way or another, there is something peculiar about all of this. <<button [[Something is not adding up.|c8_smartbystander]]>><</button>> \<<else>> “I need to see Marcus,” he says, taking his hand back. There’s urgency in his tone. “You should," I agree. With that, he stands up in a hurry. He gives me an apologetic look. “I… Uh. Thank you for… Thank you.” I give him a nod and he’s off, leaving me to his office alone. The scent of dry herbs is pleasant enough, and I take a moment to enjoy it. What an eventful start of Saturnalia. <</if>> \<<if (($quinn_lover is true) or ($quinn_first_pick is true) and ($quinn_afraid isnot true))>> I should probably try to find Quinn. Something tells me $q_he’s nearby. <<button [[Continue|quinn_secondpick]]>><</button>> <</if>> It’s time to prepare for the evening. <<button [[Continue|Saturnalia]]>><</button>>

I’m not sure if Niall was wholly behind his own actions. “Niall,” I start. He gives me a careful look, clearly hearing the shift in my tone. “Did you feel something different about your head before it happened? A headache?” He frowns, unsure if he understood my questions correctly. “I… Felt angry.” “That much was established, yes.” “I, uh… I’m not sure. I did feel a little different. Like a wave of hatred just crashed onto me. It felt a little…” “Foreign?” “I…” He looks like he’s about to agree but quickly enough, he shakes his head. “I don’t want to put the blame on anyone else but me. There is no one else to blame but me.” “Sure…,” I say, not convinced. “I need to see Marcus,” he suddenly says, deeming our conversation finished. There’s urgency in his tone. “You should," I agree. With that, he stands up in a hurry. He gives me an apologetic look. “I… Uh. Thank you for… Thank you.” I give him a nod and he’s off, leaving me to his office alone. The scent of dry herbs is pleasant enough, and I take a moment to enjoy it. What an eventful start of Saturnalia. \<<if (($quinn_lover is true) or ($quinn_first_pick is true) and ($quinn_afraid isnot true))>> I should probably try to find Quinn. Something tells me $q_he’s nearby. <<button [[Continue|quinn_secondpick]]>><</button>> <</if>> It’s time to prepare for the evening. <<button [[Continue|Saturnalia]]>><</button>>

\<<if (($camilla_bath is true) or ($tinsae_bath is true))>> I run after $q_him. Even if $q_he’s fast and nimble, the limp in $q_his step is slowing $q_him down. “Quinn!” I shout after $q_him when $q_he’s in the view. $q_He looks back, slowing down. “What? Why did you run after me?” $q_He looks thoroughly confused. “You’re limping,” I say. “Huh?” $q_He looks at $q_his leg. “What of it? It’s just… something. Don’t worry about it.” “Fine. But I still wanted to see you.” “Well, you saw me now,” $q_he says with a grin and starts walking away. “Quinn, don’t be an asshole,” I say. $q_He turns to me with a smile. “Sorry. Do you want to see my place?” <<button [[Continue|c8_quinnmill]]>><</button>> \<<elseif (($lovetriangleroute is true) or ($niall_soloroute is true))>> I walk without hesitation to where I know $q_he is. Something within me knows exactly where $q_he is. There, in the snow, leaning against a tree as if $q_he’s meant to be there. $q_His lithe frame doesn’t shiver from the cold, despite the lack of sufficient clothing for the weather. <<button [[Continue|c8_quinnwhatafight]]>><</button>> \<<else>> <</if>>\

What is your sex? [[Female|female1]] [[Male|male1]]

\<<set $sex to "female">> What is your gender? [[Woman.|height1][$gender to "ciswoman"]] [[Nonbinary.|height1][$gender to "nonbinary"]] [[Man.|height1][$gender to "transman"]]

\<<set $sex to "male">> What is your gender? [[Man.|height1][$gender to "cisman"]] [[Nonbinary.|height1][$gender to "nonbinary"]] [[Woman.|height1][$gender to "transwoman"]]

Whose bath did you go to? [[Camilla's.|camilla1][$camilla_bath to true]] [[Tinsae's.|tinsae1][$tinsae_bath to true]] [[Niall's.|niall1][$niall_bath to true]] [[Marcus's.|marcus1][$marcus_bath to true]] [[Camilla's, first choice Quinn.|camilla1][$camilla_bath to true; $quinn_first_pick to true]] [[Tinsae's, first choice Quinn.|tinsae1][$tinsae_bath to true; $quinn_first_pick to true]] [[Marcus's, first choice Quinn.|marcus1][$marcus_bath to true; $quinn_first_pick to true]] [[Niall's, first choice Quinn.|niall1][$niall_bath to true; $quinn_first_pick to true]]

Did you have sex with Camilla? [[Yes|camilla_used?][$camilla_sex to true]] [[No|camilla_sexnope]] Are you attempting to use Camilla? [[Yes|Chapter 8][$camilla_user to true]] [[No|Chapter 8]]

Are you using Niall to your advantage? [[Yes|niall1][$niall_user to true]] [[No|niall1]] Did Marcus enter the scene? [[No|Chapter 8]] [[Yes|marcus?niall]]

Did you have sex with Marcus? [[No|niall?]] [[Yes|marcus1][$marcus_sex to true]] Do you want to kill Marcus? [[Yes|Chapter 8][$marcus_killer to true]] [[No|Chapter 8]]

Did you have sex with Niall? [[Yes|Chapter 8][$niall_handjob to true]] [[No|Chapter 8]]

Did you feel used by Camilla? [[Yes|Chapter 8][$used_by_camilla to true]] [[No|camilla_user?]]

[[Yes|Chapter 8][$camilla_user to true]] [[No|Chapter 8]]

Are you attempting to use Camilla? [[Yes|Chapter 8][$camilla_user to true]] [[No|Chapter 8]]

Did you kiss Marcus? [[No|marcus?niall]] [[Yes|marcus?niall][$marcus_kiss to true]] Did you punch Marcus? [[No|Chapter 8]] [[Yes|Chapter 8][$marcus_punch to true]]

Do you love Quinn? [[Yes, but I don't trust Quinn.|route][$quinn_lover to true]] [[Yes, and I fully trust Quinn.|route][$trust_quinn_100 to true; $quinn_lover to true]] [[No, but I trust Quinn.|route][$trust_quinn_100 to true]] [[Absolutely not on all fronts.|route]]

Are you determined to get revenge or slightly confused? [[Just a little confused.|faith?][$manipulated to true]] [[I'm determined.|faith?][$determined to true]]

What is your relationship with your gods? [[I'm their chosen one.|quinn??][$chosen_one to true]] [[I'm a firm believer.|quinn??][$believer to true]] [[Sometimes there's doubt in my heart...|quinn??][$doubter to true]]

I look at the mangled Marcus on the ground with a smile on my face. I can’t hide the glee, and there’s no need to. The soldiers gathered around us are helping Marcus to get back on his feet. I wait just enough to see his face. I want to see if there’s a hole in where his face is supposed to be. That would make me happy. But, no. I sigh in disappointment. His face is intact. His nose is but a bloody mess but otherwise he looks fine enough. Maybe it’s for the best. Maybe his death would’ve been premature. I can still stab him emotionally, though. Just one last thrust as he’s hoisted up like a dead fish. I hope his eyesight is enough to see my face when I give him the biggest smile. He squints at me and it’s unsure if he sees me. Oh, well. I rush to Niall, still wearing the same, happy smile. He flinches at my face, his gaze jumping between my happiness and the bloody Marcus in the background. “You did good, Lord Tribune,” I say. I will even call him by his title, since he did so well. “What’s wrong with you?” he asks, taking a step away from me. “What’s wrong with me?” I throw the question back at him. And immediately he knows he fumbled. He just almost killed his brother. “I’m sorry, I… I, uh. I–” “It’s alright, Niall. I forgive you. You did great.” \<<if (($loud_pervert is true) or ($shy_pervert is true))>> “Watching you made me excited. You’re like a force of nature.” He takes a step back with a horrified look on his face. “Don’t be like that,” I say with a smile. “I’m paying you a compliment.” “I don’t want it,” he breathes out. I take a step towards him and he stays put. “Maybe we should go somewhere more private?” Despite everything, he nods. \<<else>> “Maybe we should go somewhere more private?” Despite everything, he nods. <</if>>\ I guide him toward the barracks and back to his office. <<button [[Continue|c8_barracksniall]]>><</button>>

“What a fight,” $q_he says without turning to see me. Smile rings through $q_his voice. $q_He enjoyed watching it. \<<if (($fight_bystander is true) and ($dummy isnot true))>> “Did you cause it?” “Me?” $q_he asks, as if completely oblivious to the meaning behind my words. $q_He sighs when I don’t entertain $q_his show. “No, I didn’t make him attack Marcus.” “Did you nudge him?” I insist. $q_He rolls $q_his eyes. “No.” $q_He could be lying. More than likely, $q_he is. “I’m not lying,” $q_he says with a smile. $q_He knows that I’m suspecting it, but it doesn’t bother $q_him. “I’m not sure I believe you.” “Trust is key in any relationship,” $q_he says with a bright grin. “Especially in ours.” Vague words that mean nothing. <</if>>\ “You were watching?” I ask. “From afar, yes. I’m growing to enjoy Niall and I don’t mind you spending time with him.” Quinn nods with a wide smile on $q_his face. “He’s a good asset to our cause. A great choice, my friend.” \<<if $manipulated is true>> I sigh at the sound of ‘our cause’. Quinn must’ve heard it, but there’s no reaction. <</if>>\ “Why did you come to see me?” $q_he asks. “Because I wanted to see you?” Is there a need for a better reason? “How kind of you.” $q_He ponders on my words. “Yes. Lovely. Let’s go.” $q_He starts dragging me through the snow. \<<if (($build is "average") or ($build is "muscular"))>> Or, $q_he tries to. I don’t feel like being dragged around and $q_his physique isn’t enough to make me move without my will. $q_He turns to me with a frown on $q_his face. “Don’t make me ask, it feels wrong.” I snort out a laugh. Fine. $q_He looks so miserable that I let $q_him drag me away with $q_him. \<<else>> And I let $q_him. <</if>> <<button [[Continue|c8_quinnmill]]>><</button>>

\<<if (($gender is "cisman") or ($gender is "ciswoman"))>> \<<set $cis to true>> <</if>>\ What is your height? [[Tall|height1][$height to "tall"]] [[Average|height1][$height to "average"]] [[Short|height1][$height to "short"]] What is your build? [[Muscular|height1][$build to "muscular"]] [[Average|height1][$build to "average"]] [[Lithe|height1][$build to "lithe"]] And are you slightly deranged in your bloodthirstiness? [[Yes, quite. I might be caught licking blood off people's faces after I punch them.|height1][$psycho to true]] [[No, I'm mentally stable (as stable as I can be).|height1]] [[Continue|element1]]

Your height is $height and build is $build. \<<if $psycho is true>> You are also slightly deranged. \<<else>> You are as mentally stable as you can be at this point in time. <</if>>\ What is your personality element? [[Fire|quinn?1][$fire to true]] [[Water|quinn?1][$water to true]] [[Earth|quinn?1][$earth to true]] [[Air|quinn?1][$air to true]]

Is Quinn a man or a woman? [[A woman.|perv??][$quinn_gender to "woman"]] [[A man.|perv??][$quinn_gender to "man"]]

\<<if $quinn_gender is "woman">> \<<set $q_he to "she"; $q_him to "her"; $q_his to "her"; $q_hers to "hers"; $q_himself to "herself" $q_He to "She"; $q_Him to "Her"; $q_His to "Her"; $q_Hers to "Hers"; $q_Himself to "Herself">> \<<elseif $quinn_gender is "man">> \<<set $q_he to "he"; $q_him to "him"; $q_his to "his"; $q_hers to "his"; $q_himself to "himself"; $q_He to "He"; $q_Him to "Him"; $q_His to "His"; $q_Hers to "His"; $q_Himself to "Himself">> <</if>>\ Describe your perversion level. [[Not interested.|hobby?][$not_interested to true]] [[Openly perverted.|hobby?][$loud_pervert to true]] [[A shy pervert.|hobby?][$shy_pervert to true]] [[Completely clueless.|hobby?][$clueless to true]]

Would you call yourself observant or oblivious? [[Oblivious.|determinedor][$dummy to true]] [[Observant.|determinedor]]

“He’s a bull when he’s angry. There’s no getting to him in that state.” “Isn’t that concerning?” “His wrath is just,” Marcus says with a small shrug. “He looked like he was ready to kill you.” “That would’ve been embarrassing for me, yes.” Interesting. Despite what happened, he doesn’t hold Niall responsible. “I’m just surprised that Niall is capable of such violence.” He frowns, not sure what to say. It must’ve surprised him, too. But there’s something preventing him from accusing his brother for the assault. \<<if $fight_bystander is true>> <<button [[Most likely, Niall wasn't fully in control of himself.|c8_quinnsus]]>><</button>> \<<else>> <<button [[Continue|c8_nosegrimace]]>><</button>> <</if>>\

Are you knowledgeable about fashion and clothes? [[Yes.|hobby?][$hobby_fashion to true]] [[No.|hobby?]] Are you interested in herbalism? [[Yes.|dummy??][$herbalist to true]] [[No.|dummy??]]

\<<set $quinn_first_pick to true>> I traverse through the slush and sleet, wondering if I’m even on the right path. Quinn wasn’t specific with the directions. \<<if $quinn_angry is true>> $q_He probably thought it funny to see me trying to find the right place. Anger makes me grit my teeth. Anger makes me almost wish I would’ve chosen one of the others. I take a deep breath and continue walking. <</if>>\ The forest turns ever darker. It’s getting late and I’m cold and annoyed. Why can I imagine Quinn laughing up in the trees, watching as I wander here aimlessly? What does $q_he even do during the day? $q_He wanders the fort occasionally but I don’t know what $q_he actually does or where $q_he sleeps. It feels like $q_he’ll only see me when it suits $q_him. There’s no way for me to contact $q_him. Or is there? I close my eyes and focus on $q_him, on $q_his face. //where are you?// I call $q_him. And listen. But hear nothing in return. All my pondering managed to do is to make me feel like an absolute fool. Of course Quinn wouldn’t just pop into my head and tell me that $q_he’s on $q_his way. I don’t know how this all works. I don’t know any– The crack of a twig makes my ears strain. [[There's someone coming.|c6_q_someonecoming]]

\<<set $quinn_monster to true>> $q_He frowns. “A monster? I’m…” $q_He takes a hesitant step back, seemingly searching for the right words. “I’m sorry?” “You can’t apologize for that.” $q_He smiles sadly. The smile is still so warm and full of affection. “Let’s say I’m a monster. Will you still love me?” “How can you ask that? I feel like I barely know you anymore.” The smile slowly dies on $q_his face. There’s confusion. “Let me try to understand your point of view.” “But there shouldn’t be anything to learn. You should already know that killing is wrong.” Why am I explaining this to $q_him? Am I the one who’s insane? \<<if $marcus_bath is true>> Confusion still paints $q_his face as $q_he says, “But your boyfriend has murdered more than I have. Why am I different?” [[My boyfriend? "Marcus?"|c6_q_boyfriend]] \<<elseif $camilla_bath is true>> “Your girlfriend has blood in her hands. You know this, do you?” “Camilla?” I frown. “She’s not my–” “You’re awfully cozy with her and I don’t blame you for it. I implored you to get close to her. But you do know that she’s killed in her lifetime?” [["How do you know that?" I ask.|c6_q_how?]] [["No, I didn't," I say.|c6_q_camillamurderer?]] [["Yes, I do." I cross my arms.|c6_q_camillamurdereryes]] \<<else>> “But they were Romans,” $q_he says as a defense. "Most of them. I didn’t ask where they were from. I didn’t have time to be picky.” //had to hunt had to come for you// The words in my head make me grimace. This is all too much. I take a deep breath and try to make sense of my emotions. [[Quinn looks at the dark gray sky.]] <</if>>\

$q_He nods, as if it was self-evident $q_he’s talking about him. As if the thought isn’t preposterous. \<<if $quinn_first_pick is true>> “The only reason I even went with his bath was because you left me wandering alone in the woods.” “I did,” $q_he admits. “And I don’t blame you for it, of course. You just seem so close to him. I try not to be too jealous, of course. You’re doing what you have to do.” “You’re jealous?” “Well, he’s an obnoxious murderer who still manages to have your attention.” $q_He grins. “I just think that’s ironic.” <</if>>\ \<<if $marcus_killer is true>> “He’s definitely not my boyfriend. You know I hate him.” $q_He tilts $q_his head in thought. “You’re right, of course. My words were hasty. You hate him with all your heart.” “Of course I hate him for what he’s done.” “Just like you hate me?” [["No, I don't hate you," I admit.|c6_q_nohate]] [[Remain silent.|c6_q_silent4]] \<<else>> [["He's not my boyfriend," I say.|c6_noboyfriend]] [["That's different," I say.|c6_q_different]] <</if>>\

I’m not sure how I feel about Quinn. But I know that I hate Marcus. $q_He gives me a warm, understanding smile. At least the dead were offered to the Twins. Does it make it better? Do I even know if the Twins demanded it? $q_He continues with the same, warm smile on $q_his face. “I love you just the way you are, I hope you know that.” “Don’t.” $q_He falls silent, as per my request. [[Quinn looks at the dark gray sky.]]

My words are resigned and tired. And I know that it makes me a hypocrite. If I hate Marcus for killing all those people, why not Quinn? At least the dead were offered to the Twins. Does it make it better? Do I even know if the Twins demanded it? I groan and rub my face. Why is this so difficult? “I’m sorry for making things so messy.” A quiet voice. It almost makes me believe that $q_he’s sorry, most likely for the wrong reasons. [[Quinn looks at the dark gray sky.]]

$q_He tilts $q_his head. “Different how? His victims fell without a sword, too. His victims left behind grieving families, broken hearts. All those years of murder and he hasn’t cared.” “How do you know that?” “Do you think he has? Have you blinded yourself, $name?” $q_He gives me a sad smile. “I cannot blame you. You’ve done what you have to. But please don’t think I don’t see the hypocrite in you. It’s burning my eyes.” “You–” Desperately, I try to find the right words to dismiss $q_his claims. “He’s a soldier. It’s his job.” “Do you not think he could find another job? He’s the son of a senator. He chooses to be there, you know that.” I bite my lip, annoyed that $q_he speaks the truth. I… don’t know what to say. I look at $q_him with my mind a mess. It’s different. How? Because I like Marcus? No. That can’t be it. That’s absurd. Why would I– “No.” That’s all that comes out of my mouth. There’s nothing else, just denial of everything. And Quinn merely gives me a warm smile in return. [[Quinn looks at the dark gray sky.]]

$q_He gives me a sad, understanding smile. “Don’t think that I blame you, friend. You’re doing what you must. I’ve implored you to.” “But he’s not my–” “All I ask of you is to hold others to the same standards you hold me.” $q_He gives me another smile. “I must admit that I love that I’m special to you.” “Special? Because I expect you to not to be a mass murderer?” “Something like that,” $q_he muses silently. [[Quinn looks at the dark gray sky.]]

$q_He scoffs. “Are you really asking me that?” No. The real question is whether or not $q_he’s telling the truth. Knowing Camilla, it seems plausible. “I don’t know the extent of her deeds,” I say. I don’t know who’s her victim, if they deserved it. “You will find out in time. And all I ask of you is to hold her to the same standards you have for me.” “I…” I sigh. I’m surrounded by murderers. [[Quinn looks at the dark gray sky.]]

Quinn gives me a small, self-deprecating smirk. “Do you hold it against her just as you hold this against me?” “I don’t know the extent of her deeds.” “You will find out in time. And all I ask of you is to hold her to the same standards you have for me.” “I…” I sigh. I’m surrounded by murderers. [[Quinn looks at the dark gray sky.]]

$q_He bursts into a wide smile. “That’s why I love you. You’re so out of place here, amidst all the monsters. My sweet light.” $q_He smiles at me like all $q_he sees is me. “You are everything to me, I hope you know that.” “Don’t… Don’t change the subject.” “I’m not. But if my love disturbs you, I can hold it back for now.” [[Quinn looks at the dark gray sky.]]

$q_He looks at the dark gray sky, almost black already. Steam from the spring frames $q_his thoughtful face. “I think I understand now,” $q_he says. “I shouldn’t have killed anyone and should’ve just followed you to Rome without any powers to help either of us. I should’ve let us both die.” “Your sarcasm does neither of us any favors.” “It’s not sarcasm, I don’t think.” $q_His words are slow and thoughtful, as if $q_he’s trying to make sense of things as $q_he speaks. “Maybe that would’ve been the best option for both of us.” I sigh. “So, you regret it?” “Yes.” $q_He nods firmly. “I do. I regret it. I regret what I did. I regret how it made you see me.” “Are you just saying that because that’s what I want to hear?” $q_He nods. “Yes? No? I think I mean parts of it.” “Parts?” I rub my face with a weary sigh. Why do I have to deal with– Quinn’s face is there when I open my eyes. $q_He’s too close. “I’m sorry that I hurt you with my actions. But I can’t take it back.” [[Quinn is too close. Back off.]] [[I remain still.|c6_q_remainstill]]

I shift away from $q_him. “You’re really close.” “Sorry. I wanted to see your face.” “Are you nearsighted? Look from afar.” $q_He smiles at my jab. “I’m happy to hear the lightness in your tone, friend. I was afraid that I lost you.” [["You didn't. But it's close."|c6_q_itsclose]] [[Remain silent. I don't know what to think.|c6_q_silent6]]

I remain still. My breath is stuck into my throat. $q_He studies my face with $q_his head tilting slightly. $q_He looks at my lips. “Do you still want me to kiss you?” $q_he asks. I draw in a sharp breath. Do I? After all that I know? [[Shake my head and retreat.|c6_q_retreat]] [["You only want to kiss me to manipulate me." The accusation rings true.]] [["No." And it hurts.|c6_q_noandhurt]] [["Not right now." I need time.|c6_q_ineedtime]] [["Yes." Even if I shouldn't.|c6_q_yesbutshouldn't]] \<<if $quinn_gender is "man">> [[Kiss him before he can.|c6_q_kissquinn]] <<elseif $quinn_gender is "woman">> [[Kiss her before she can.|c6_q_kissquinn]] <</if>>

$q_His eyes lighten up with delight. Without a word, $q_he places $q_his lips against mine. It’s a light, almost a chaste kiss, curious more than anything. It’s like $q_he’s deeply intrigued by my closeness and delighted to have my permission to be there. There’s not a trace of passion in $q_his movements, only scribe-like intrigue. Then, when I shift my position, $q_he grabs my frame tightly, as if afraid that I’d have changed my mind in the middle of the kiss, preventing me from leaving. When $q_he’s content that I’m still here and won’t leave, $q_he relaxes again. Playfully, $q_he pokes my lips with $q_his tongue, eagerly studying my reaction. $q_He breaks the kiss with a curious look on $q_his face. “Do you like it when people use their tongue?” [["I don't know. I'm not the most experienced kisser."|c6_q_noexperience]] [["Maybe. I like confidence in my partner."|c6_q_confidence]]

I don’t know how long I’ll need to process all of this. But it’s too soon for intimacy. $q_He tilts $q_his head, $q_his gaze glued to my lips. Then, a warm smile appears. “I understand. I will wait for you forever, if I need to.” Forever? I let out a dry laugh. “I doubt it’ll take that long.” “I’m prepared for anything,” $q_he says with a small smile. “I’m just happy you don’t hate me.” \<<if $quinn_monster is true>> “I just called you a monster.” “I deserved that.” $q_He swallows hard and looks away. “Maybe I am that.” “Quinn…” “I’m not saying it because I want pity,” $q_he quickly retracts. “I just…” $q_He smiles sadly. “I mean… Let’s just forget about it. For now.” With a deep sigh, $q_he backtracks back to $q_his rock and sits down. Weariness weighs heavy on $q_his shoulders. <</if>>\ "I don't hate you," I say in a hushed tone. And $q_he smiles at me. [[Continue|"I think something broke in me."]]

“I don’t,” I say with my voice choked. $q_He lingers, $q_his breath caressing my skin. $q_He looks at my lips, longingly. Then, resigning to $q_his fate, $q_he backs off. “I understand.” $q_His voice is thick with emotion. $q_He clears $q_his throat. “If you need time, I’ll–” “I don’t think it’s about that. I’m not sure if I can forgive you. It’s not even my place to forgive you, it’s the…” I sigh. “I understand,” $q_he repeats. I don’t know if $q_he does. But $q_he clearly tries. And $q_he respects my feelings on the matter. That’s how it seems. I almost say that I’m sorry but I shouldn’t. It’s not that $q_he expects that, either. $q_He gives me a somber smile. “I’m sorry. I didn’t mean this to happen. I didn’t…” $q_He looks at me with fresh tears gathering into $q_his eyes. “It wasn’t supposed to go like this. I’m sorry,” $q_he repeats $q_himself, lost and alone. \<<if $quinn_gender is "man">> [[Hug him.|c6_q_hughim]] \<<else>> [[Hug her.|c6_q_hughim]] <</if>>\ [[Remain still.|c6_q_remainstill2]]

Despite everything, I kiss $q_him. And I need to do it before $q_he can. I need to be in control in this situation. I need to be the one to kiss first. And $q_he hums happily against my lips. Relief makes $q_him melt in my embrace, $q_he sighs deeply. It feels as if $q_he’s inside my mind. $q_His emotions are mine, the joy that $q_he feels when I hold $q_him is intoxicating, it floods my mind with violence. I break the kiss as quickly as I started it. $q_He gives me a bright smile. “Did you like that?” “Did you?” I can never be sure with $q_him. Reading $q_him proves almost impossible. “If you did.” “Quinn, you can’t say that.” “Oh. Well. Yes. I enjoyed it very much. It made me happy.” I could tell as much. I smile at $q_his clumsy words and $q_he returns the smile right back at me. "You're weird," I say. "Sorry." I smile. [[Continue|c6_q_postkissquinn]]

\<<set $quinn_understand to true>> $q_He gives me a surprised frown. “You do? I expected you to–” $q_He pauses, thinks. “No. Of course you would understand, that’s why I love you.” “You–” “I love everything about you!” $q_he all but shouts and I flinch at the almost manic sound. “You are my light in the darkness.” [["Calm down." I laugh.|c6_q_calmdown]] [[The outburst makes me bashful.|c6_q_bashful]] [[Judge the method of execution. I would've done a better job.]] [[Change the subject. I’m not comfortable with the direction the talk is heading.]]

“Right, of course. I just… I’m just happy. That you see me. Despite everything.” “I see you. And I certainly hear you if you shout like that.” I look around. It would be a drag if the Romans found us right now. Quinn reads my worries and says, “They won’t find us. Just like you didn’t find the hot spring by yourself.” “How did you do that?” “Just a neat trick.” $q_He laughs. Then, $q_his gaze softens. “But you do know that I love you?” [["I do. And I love you."|c6_q_iloveyou]] [[Change the subject.|c6_q_changethesubject]]

“You love me?” “I’ve already said that, right?” “But you say it so casually, it’s easy not to believe you.” “Oh?” $q_He tilts $q_his head. “So, I shouldn’t say it?” “No, you should. If you mean it.” “But I’ve always meant it. I’ve loved you for years.” “How?” “How?” Another tilt of $q_his head, confused. “Like one loves a sibling? A friend?” “How many kinds of love are there?” $q_he asks and the question rings genuine. “Of course there are many ways to love someone.” $q_He nods, $q_his features still thoughtful and open to hear my words. Then, a wide, bright smile curls $q_his lips. “I love you in the way that makes my chest lose its weight everytime I see you.” “Oh.” $q_He nods. “Only when I see you, I feel like I can breathe properly. Like you’re the air I need to breathe. Like I would suffocate without you.” “I–” Heat creeps to my cheeks to hear $q_his sudden declaration of love. “Your voice makes me forget everything bad that’s happened in my life. All I want to hear is you talking. Whatever you want to talk about. It’s like I exist only when you–” “That’s enough Quinn.” “Huh?” $q_He tilts $q_his head, confused. “Too much?” “Yes.” My voice is choked. $q_His words ringed so genuine, no one’s talked about me like that before. My cheeks are warm as I look away. “Oh,” $q_he says, as if just catching up on my mood. Suddenly, $q_his cold finger guides me by my chin to look at $q_him. $q_He smiles widely. “I take it that this means that you love me back?” [["I do," I admit.|c6_q_iloveyou]] [["I'm not ready yet."|c6_q_notyet]]

The conversation is getting a little uncomfortable to my liking. I just learned about everything $q_he did, I’m not ready to hear how important I am to $q_him. Forgiveness takes time. If there even can even be one. $q_He gives me a quick, careful look. A brief flash of sadness crosses $q_his gaze before $q_he gives me a smile. “Of course. I understand.” $q_He sighs and looks at the dark gray sky. “You know… I’ve been a little tired lately,” $q_he says in a hushed voice. “You don’t say,” I say, weariness weighing on my words. $q_He gives me a smile. “I really hate it here. I hate everything about this country. I hate the people here. I hate–” “There are good things. Like cookies.” $q_He bursts out laughing. “I’ve started to feel a little ill after cookies. Is that normal?” “Yes, it is. You should eat something else, too.” “Right.” $q_He chuckles. “But I don’t like anything else.” “Then you’ll starve.” There’s levity in my words but also genuine worry. $q_He doesn’t seem to care for $q_his health whatsoever. “Should we build a shrine to those who you murdered?” I ask, still almost cringing at the word ‘murder’. But it is what it was. I should use the proper terms, that’s the least I owe to the victims. Even if I didn’t do it, I still feel responsible. “Sure,” $q_he says, $q_his voice quiet and I can almost sense a layer of remorse in there somewhere. “You should build it. And try to get their forgiveness.” “I…” $q_He shifts uncomfortably. “If that’s what you want.” “It is. But it also should be what you want.” $q_He nods slowly, taking in my words. Finally, $q_he says, “I think that would be good.” “Did you know their names?” “No.” I sigh. The conversation topic is almost absurd. “We’ll figure out something.” $q_He gives me a bright smile. “Thank you.” Then, $q_he sighs. “You’re too good for me.” “What do you mean?” [[Continue|"I think something broke in me."]]

\<<set $$psycho to true>> "I just don't understand why you had to slit their throats." I almost playfully interrupt $q_his confession of love to judge $q_his method of murder. “Why didn’t you use a wickerman? Why didn’t you burn them?” $q_His brows raise at my words. $q_He opens $q_his mouth as if to say something, but then, $q_he bursts out laughing. “Oh, to be scolded by a professional!” “I’m just saying that there was a better way.” “I’m sorry, a wickerman would’ve been a pain to build alone.” “Right, of course.” “I didn’t have the resources, I had to make due with what I had. And, to be honest, the thought of burning someone alive is a… I…” $q_He shifts uncomfortably. “You felt bad for them?” “Don’t sound so surprised.” $q_He pouts. “It’s just a nasty way to go, alright?” $q_He creeps closer, wearing only a small smile on $q_his face. “But if you open someone’s neck right about here,” $q_he says and puts $q_his finger on my neck on my pulse. “They’re gone in a few heartbeats.” $q_His breath caresses the skin of my cheek and $q_his finger lingers. “That’s how it should be. Quick and painless.” “To bleed out is probably not painless.” $q_He grimaces at the notion. “No, but it’s quick. Look, I try my best.” \<<if $herbalist is true>> “I can show you herbs that will kill your target in a few heartbeats. Almost painless. If that’s what you want.” “Thank you!” $q_He smiles brightly. “You are incredible. Your knowledge of the herbs is…” $q_He smiles, and the sight of it is almost suggestive. “Incredible.” \<<else>> “If you stab here,” I say while moving $q_his finger to an even better spot on my neck, “they will die even quicker.” $q_His face brightens up with wonder. “I didn’t even realize. You are incredible. Your knowledge of anatomy is…” $q_He smiles, and the sight of it is almost suggestive. “Incredible.” <</if>>\ $q_He looks at my lips. “Do you still want me to kiss you?” $q_he asks. [[Shake my head and retreat.|c6_q_retreat]] [["You only want to kiss me to manipulate me." The accusation rings true.]] [["Yes." Even if I shouldn't.|c6_q_yesbutshouldn't]] \<<if $quinn_gender is "man">> [[Kiss him before he can.|c6_q_kissquinn]] <<elseif $quinn_gender is "woman">> [[Kiss her before she can.|c6_q_kissquinn]] <</if>>

Despite everything, I do. $q_He opens $q_his mouth in surprise. “You do? I mean, of course you do!” “Why did it come as a surprise to you?” “You’re perfect and I need you. I was afraid that… Well.” $q_His cheeks grow a little redder. “You know.” “That I didn’t love you back?” $q_He nods. It’s a shy, almsot embarrassed nod. Yet, $q_he still gives me a bright smile. “But I’m so happy you do.” $q_He studies my face with $q_his head tilting slightly. $q_He looks at my lips. “Do you still want me to kiss you?” $q_he asks. [["You only want to kiss me to manipulate me." The accusation rings true.]] [["Not right now." I need time.|c6_q_ineedtime]] [["Yes." Even if I shouldn't.|c6_q_yesbutshouldn't]] \<<if $quinn_gender is "man">> [[Kiss him before he can.|c6_q_kissquinn]] <<elseif $quinn_gender is "woman">> [[Kiss her before she can.|c6_q_kissquinn]] <</if>>

“Of course,” $q_he says with an eager nod. “I will wait for you to be ready. You can take as long as you need.” $q_He lets me go, a smile still brightening $q_his face. “I’m just so happy that my words make you feel like that.” I touch my cheeks. “Bashful?” “Yes! It’s exciting.” I let out a dry laugh. “Right.” “I know that I matter to you but I… don’t know? If that makes sense. Relationships are complicated.” “They are,” I admit. \<<if $marcus_sex is true>> I just gave Marcus an angry handjob and here I am, listening to Quinn tell me how important I am to $q_him. I rub my face. Quinn squints $q_his eyes at me with a smile. “You’re doing such a great job.” I clear my throat. “Thank you.” \<<elseif $niall_sex is true>> I just gave Niall a handjob and here I am, listening to Quinn tell me how important I am to $q_him. I rub my face. Quinn squints $q_his eyes at me with a smile. “You’re doing such a great job.” I clear my throat. “Thank you.” \<<elseif $camilla_sex is true>> I just let Camilla have her way with me. And here I am, listening to Quinn tell me how important I am to $q_him. Quinn squints $q_his eyes at me with a smile. “You’re doing such a great job.” I clear my throat. “Thank you.” \<<elseif $tinsae_kiss is true>> Quinn squints $q_his eyes at me with a smile. “You’re doing such a great job.” I clear my throat. “Thank you.” <</if>>\ “Should we build a shrine to those who you murdered?” I ask, still almost cringing at the word ‘murder’. But it is what it was. I should use the proper terms, that’s the least I owe to the victims. Even if I didn’t do it, I still feel responsible. “Sure,” $q_he says, $q_his voice quiet and I can almost sense a layer of remorse in there somewhere. “You should build it. And try to get their forgiveness.” “I…” $q_He shifts uncomfortably. “If that’s what you want.” “It is. But it also should be what you want.” $q_He nods slowly, taking in my words. Finally, $q_he says, “I think that would be good.” “Did you know their names?” “No.” I sigh. The conversation topic is almost absurd. “We’ll figure out something.” $q_He gives me a bright smile. “Thank you.” Then, $q_he sighs. “You’re too good for me.” “What do you mean?” [[Continue|"I think something broke in me."]]

“Why are you crying?” “Because of you.” Because I fear you. And it hurts my soul. I wipe the lone tear and grimace. Confusion invades $q_his features, twists it into a face of guilt. “Because I killed those people.” It’s not a question. At least, this time, it’s not a question. “I fear you,” I confess. I fear what this means. I fear for– “You fear me?” he asks. “I… No. Please don’t.” $q_He takes a step towards me and I take a step back. Seeing it halts $q_his step. The realization that I truly fear $q_him hits $q_him like a hammer. $q_He looks like a child lost in the woods. Lost and forgotten. “You… Do. Fear me.” $q_He takes several steps back, almost falling down in the water, walking all the way to the other edge of the spring. “You fear the blood in my hands. You fear my broken mind. You fear–” $q_He looks at me with fresh tears gathering into $q_his eyes. “It wasn’t supposed to go like this. I’m sorry.” [[Step into the pool.|c6_q_intothepool]] [[Stay put.|c6_q_stayput]]

\<<set $quinn_hurt to true>> Without a word, I step back into the pool and start walking towards $q_him. $q_His small, beaten frame. $q_He shakes as a surge of emotion rattle $q_him. $q_He flinches at my arrival, afraid of what I will do to $q_him. I take $q_his naked, frail frame into my arms and $q_he starts sobbing silently against my cloak. $q_He keeps repeating that $q_he’s sorry. That if $q_he could, $q_he would take it all back. “I had to do something,” $q_he says through $q_his tears. “But it was wrong. It made you sad. I–” I caress $q_his white hair and take in $q_his scent of evergreen trees. I don’t know if I can forgive $q_him. But $q_he’s all I’ve got left. I can’t just abandon $q_him now. $q_He squeezes me harder, entwines $q_his arms around me, deeply grateful that I’m there, afraid that I’ll change my mind, afraid to let go. //don’t leave don’t leave don’t leave// I can hear $q_his fear in my head. I can feel $q_his despair. It’s dark and invasive and suffocating. “It’ll be alright,” I say. “How could it be? You hate me.” “I don’t.” “Hate and fear–” “Are two different things.” $q_He shakes $q_his head against my shoulder, unable to accept my words. This is not the time for words. I’m not sure if I fully believe them and I can’t expect $q_him to. So, instead, I just hold $q_him. And $q_he holds me, deadly afraid that I’ll let $q_him go. I won’t. We only have each other. Finally, when $q_his tears have dried on my cloak, $q_he lets me go. $q_He doesn’t meet my gaze. “Quinn…” I hold $q_his hands. The same ones which murdered all those people. I can almost see the dried blood underneath $q_his broken nails. $q_He curls $q_his hands into fists, hiding $q_his nails. There’s really nothing in them but $q_he fears that I’d see something. We walk back to the rocks. Quinn sits down next to me, hugging $q_his knees, staring at the water like $q_he hates what $q_he sees. “Fuck it all,” $q_he mutters. And I can’t help but agree. [[Continue|"I think something broke in me."]]

\<<set $quinn_afraid to true>> I can’t run up to $q_him. All I can do is watch $q_him slowly sink into the water, soaking the freshly bandaged wound on $q_his thigh. It will need to be re-bandaged. I smile bitterly at the thought. I still think of $q_his well-being, after everything $q_he’s done. [["I'm sorry, I need time," I say in a hushed voice.]] [[Remain silent.|c6_q_silent2]]

$q_He nods but says nothing. All $q_he does is to watch in the distance, unseeing and seemingly unhearing. Uneasy heaviness lingers in the air. There’s nothing neither of us is ready to say. \<<if (($quinn_first_pick is true) or ($quinn_lover is true) or ($quinn_friend is true))>> \<<set $quinn_afraid_hurt to true>> <</if>>\ I can’t approach $q_him and it hurts me. I’m afraid of $q_him and it hurts me. I wish I could just go to $q_him and hug $q_him like I used to. But I can’t. “Don’t blame yourself for feeling that way.” $q_His silent words cut through the silence. “This is all my fault.” “I wish everything could just be the way they were,” I say. “Me, too. With all my heart.” But things can never be as they used to be. [[Continue|"I think something broke in me."]]

Neither of us have words to fill the moment of hurt. \<<if (($quinn_first_pick is true) or ($quinn_lover is true) or ($quinn_friend is true))>> \<<set $quinn_afraid_hurt to true>> I can’t approach $q_him and it hurts me. I’m afraid of $q_him and it hurts me. I wish I could just go to $q_him and hug $q_him like I used to. But I can’t. “Don’t blame yourself for feeling that way.” $q_His silent words cut through the silence. “This is all my fault.” “I wish everything could just be the way they were,” I say. “Me, too. With all my heart.” But things can never be as they used to be. [[Continue|"I think something broke in me."]]

“I think something broke in me when it all happened.” $q_He stares into the distance, $q_his eyes glassy and unseeing. “When it happened, my mind split. Or it became whole. I’m not sure.” The anguish in $q_his tone is raw and genuine. The truth seeps from $q_his usually deceitful words. “The blood and the screams made me lose myself. I still hear it. The screams, they wake me up at night.” //the rats keep $q_him company when $q_he shrieks into the void// I don’t know what to say. What happened… $q_He wasn’t $q_himself. But can it ever excuse murder? $q_He continues, $q_his words heavy, raw, afraid. “I felt someone reaching out to me, offering a solution. So I…” “So you took it.” $q_He nods. “So you’re not sure it was the Twins.” $q_He blinks, looks away. $q_He doesn’t answer. “It could’ve been anything, Quinn. It could’ve been a malicious spirit taking over you. You cannot know–” “They wanted to help me. That was all I needed to know.” “You… What can we do?” “Do?” $q_He takes a step back, curling $q_his arms around $q_his naked body. “Nothing, I guess. Stick with the plan.” \<<if $manipulated is true>> [["I don't care about the plan," I say.|c6_q_dontcare]] \<<else>> [["The plan," I repeat silently. "What is the plan?"|c6_q_whatstheplan?]] <</if>>\

$q_He frowns, confusion taking over $q_his features. “You don’t?” “I never did. I told you. All I need to do is to find Eoganan and Eithne.” $q_He blinks slowly, taking in my words. Finally, $q_he says, “Of course. The children are the first priority. But what happens after? Will you just go home with them?” The tone of $q_his voice is unreadable, unemotional. It’s as if $q_he’s hearing my reasoning and motivation for the first time. “The details aren’t yet clear to me, I just need to find them first.” “Of course,” $q_he says with the same unattached tone. Then, with a confused frown on $q_his face, $q_he asks, “You just… Don’t want to kill anyone?” “No.” “Even after what happened?” [["I'm not a killer," I say defiantly.|c6_q_notakiller]] [["I'm tired." I want to go home.|c6_q_tired]] [["I will die if I try anything. Is that what you want?"|c6_q_wantmetodie?]]

$q_He perks up, $q_his energy quickly surging back at the prospect of revenge. “Of course. First, we need to kill the Legate.” “Why start with him? I’m closer to Marcus.” “Because it will make that idiot hurt more if he knows that he could’ve stopped you. But he didn’t.” I nod slowly. That’s certainly true. It’s a miracle he hasn’t stopped me yet. “Do you know why he hasn’t done anything?” “Something about guilt.” $q_He waves my question away like an annoying fly. “Who cares? The most important thing is that he’s unable to act against you.” \<<if $marcus_bath is true>> “Especially since you’re so cozy with him,” $q_he adds. I give $q_him a quick glance. Is that jealousy I hear in $q_his voice? <</if>>\ “But how will I kill the Legate? It shouldn’t be obvious that it was me.” “Patience, dear friend,” $q_he says, as if $q_he’s got it all figured out. \<<if (($camilla_plan is true) and ($camilla_user isnot true))>> “You’re already allied yourself with a suitable plotter. Camilla’s plans coincide with ours.” “Don’t you think she’s going to betray me?” “We’ll deal with that if it comes to it.” “Are you sure you have a plan?” “Of course! Just trust me.” \<<elseif (($camilla_plan is true) and ($camilla_user is true))>> “You’re already allied yourself with a suitable plotter. Camilla’s plans coincide with ours.” “She’s probably going to betray me,” I say. “Indeed. It’s good that you have your head up straight.” $q_He gives me a lopsided grin. “But she will still be useful for us.” I nod. She will be. <</if>>\ [["Why can't you just tell me what you have in mind?" I ask.|c6_q_inmind?]]

$q_His eyes widen in horror. “Of course not! I would never let it happen. I’ve already saved you multiple times,” $q_he says. “When?” “When you’re not watching. I’m keeping you safe.” “I should just trust you?” “Yes,” $q_he says without hesitation. “We’re in this together.” “But what if I don’t want to kill anyone? What if–” Quinn shakes $q_his head. [["You must remember what happened."|c6_q_youmustremember]]

“Tired,” $q_he says, tasting the word. “I’m tired, too,” $q_he confesses. Hope perks me up. $q_He could leave with me. “We could leave once the twins are found.” A wistful smile appears on $q_his face. “I wish it would be that easy.” “It is. The Romans wouldn’t follow us that far up North. Sure, the road there would be dangerous, they might catch us, but–” “I care what happened to everyone,” $q_he says. “And I plan on making those responsible pay.” I frown. The implication of $q_his words are not lost on me. “Do not imply that I don’t care.” “You must care in your own way,” $q_he says, almost condescendingly. “Quinn,” I say, anger seeping into my words. [["You must remember what happened."|c6_q_youmustremember]]

$q_He snorts at my comment. “What’s so funny about that?” I ask in irritation. “Nothing, sorry.” Amusement lingers on $q_his features despite $q_his best efforts. I don’t understand why it’s there in the first place. What’s so funny about this? “I’m not you,” I say, my intention to take a jab at $q_him, to make $q_him flinch. Instead, $q_he nods in agreement. “No, you are not.” $q_He plays with the water, deep in thought. [["You must remember what happened."|c6_q_youmustremember]]

Then, a coughing fit takes over $q_his fragile frame. The coughs sound painful. To think that the Twins would want this. When the coughing attack finally starts to come to an end, I can’t help but to ask, “Was it the Twins who gave you the blessing?” $q_He gives me an unreadable smile while the last remnants of the coughing fit still shakes $q_his frame. “You think it was someone else? Someone making a…” Cough. “A fool out of me?” “Twins wouldn’t do this to you. They wouldn’t infect you with a disease that kills you. They wouldn’t ask for blood in return.” At least I hope so. $q_He sighs. “Maybe I’m but a fool, Hati. Maybe it was Balor masquerading as a god, infecting me with his cruelty and darkness.” I frown at the light words. “This is not the time for one of your stupid jokes, I–” “I’ve changed haven’t I? That would explain it.” [[Is that true?|c6_q_true?]] [["Stop joking or I'll leave."|c6_q_illleave]]

“Everything will come into fruition when the Emperor arrives.” “The Emperor…” “He will be the key.” “So, the plan is to kill him, too?” “Naturally. All in good time. But we need to get rid of the Legate first.” “I should probably try to get close to him?” “Yes. Approach him with information about Marcus. They’re drifting apart, he yearns for a connection and seems to think you have that with his son.” \<<if $marcus_bath is true>> “And he’s not wrong.” $q_He gives me a meaningful glance. \<<elseif (($camilla_plan is true) and ($dummy is true))>> “Camilla asked me to find information about the anti-Imperialists. Quinn nods. “Do you know what that means?” I shake my head. “Something sinister.” Quinn grins. “I love that about you.” “What?” I frown. “Nothing.” Another annoying grin. “She’s planning on her husband’s murder,” $q_he explains. “Perhaps she’s preparing to sell out his husband to the Emperor when he arrives. How cunning of her.” [[Continue|c6_q_coughingfit]] <<elseif (($camilla_plan is true) and ($dummy isnot true))>> “Camilla asked me to find information about the anti-Imperialists. Quinn nods. “Do you know what that means?” “She’s plotting his death.” Quinn nods. “You’re a smart cookie, I love that about you.” $q_He beams proudly at me. “Perhaps she’s preparing to sell out his husband to the Emperor when he arrives. How cunning of her.” [[Continue|c6_q_coughingfit]] <</if>>\ “Too bad you didn’t accept the deal with Camilla,” $q_he laments. “We can handle this without her. She seems like a person who’d sell me out in a heartbeat.” “She does. But I like that about her.” “You like that she’s probably plotting my death?” “No! Not that part. Besides, I’ll protect you.” [["I can take care of myself."|c6_q_noneedforprotection]] [["Thank you," I say, almost relieved.]]

“But of course, you are capable,” $q_he says with a smile. I give $q_him a frown. It doesn’t sound like $q_he’s being serious. “Don’t look at me like that,” $q_he says. “You’re big and strong, of course you can take care of yourself. If someone finds out about you, you can just throw your fists at them.” Sarcasm oozes out of $q_his words. [[Continue|c6_q_coughingfit]]

It feels good to have someone watching my back. $q_He gives me a wide smile. “Anything for you, my precious friend. We’re in this together.” [[Continue|c6_q_coughingfit]]

\<<if $herbalist is true>> I keep my stance tense and ready for anything. \<<else>> It’s not a rabbit, it’s too big. Not a wolf, too small. I relax my stance. Whatever it is, it’s not big enough to be a threat. <</if>>\ Then, a shade of gray fur comes to view. //Hello there human,// the fox chirps at me. “Frog?” I ask, even if it’s a futile question. It’s not like the forest is filled with other talking, hopping foxes. //You’re here in vain. The bloody one is gone,// she says, putting her ears back, listening to the trees in alert. “Quinn?” She yawns at the mention of Quinn. //The one with the weird smell.// I look around. There’s not a sign of $q_him, nor the hot spring $q_he promised. I grit my teeth in disappointment. I really needed the bath. “Do you know if there’s a hot spring nearby?” Frog tilts her head. //No hot water. Lots of cold!// I frown in disappointment. “But $q_he said…” //Anyway,// she says chirpily and starts hopping away. [[Let her go. Something tells me that I shouldn't talk to her.|c6_q_gofroggo]] [["No, wait!"|c6_q_waitfroggo]]

There’s something wrong with that creature. Something tells me that I shouldn’t talk to her any more than is necessary. She is an unnatural creation. One of the Twins’ victims come to life. I should keep my distance. I sigh at the empty forest. $q_He’s not here. I should just accept it. And, more importantly, the hot spring is not here. Great. Just great. [[Back to the fort.|c6_q_backtothefort]]

\<<set $frog_friend to true>> //What is it, human?// “How are you?” She tilts her head. //I’ve hunted many frogs. They’re easy to eat when they’re sleeping.// “Don’t they sleep in the water? Don’t you get wet when you hunt them?” //Never wet, no. Should I be?// Unnatural. It’s probably got something to do with Cernunnos. She’s going to be a blight to the local frog community. “That’s handy.” I look at the oak trees. “Did the Green One contact you? Is that why you’re here?” Is that hope in my voice? //No. I know to follow your scent, that’s what the Old One told me.// She tilts her head at me. //You smell like blood, too.// “What do you mean?” She starts sniffing the air. //A mouse!// she chirps and starts hopping away. I reach for her momentarily before retracting my hand. There’s no reason to yell after her, she’s already gone. I smell like blood? I frown. What does that even mean? \<<if $dummy is true>> I take a sniff of my sleeve just to make sure. Nothing out of the ordinary. <</if>>\ I sigh at the empty forest. $q_He’s not here. I should just accept it. And, more importantly, the hot spring is not here. Great. Just great. [[Back to the fort.|c6_q_backtothefort]]

Disappointment makes me drag my feet through the wet snow. My clothes, my boots, everything is wet and soggy. Again. It’s as if I enjoy this as my pastime, slugging through wet snow. I was already mentally prepared for a warm bath and now I’m still quite dirty with an extra layer of freezing water. With another sigh of defeat, even deeper this time, I continue towards the fort. Just when the old road with the tombs is on sight, I stop. There’s a familiar person in the distance. [[Camilla.|c6_q_camilla]] [[Tinsae.|c6_q_tinsae]] [[Niall.|c6_q_niall]] [[Marcus.|c6_q_marcus]]

Just as quickly as I see her, she spots me. As she does, she stops in her tracks and looks around. When no one is there to witness her, she starts marching towards me like an executioner. She throws me a look of annoyance, as if I’m intruding on her afternoon walk. As if she didn’t choose to walk up to me by her own accord. When I say nothing to her as a greeting, her sour face is too unwelcoming to say anything, she asks with a frown, “Why are you wet?” [["I was looking for a hot spring to bathe in," I say.|c6_q_hotspringbathe]] [["None of your business."|c6_q_noneofyourbusiness]]

She doesn’t spot me for a good while even as I walk towards her. Her bodyguard isn’t with her this time either. She looks like she’s either lost or deep in her thoughts. It’s a wonder she doesn’t get robbed on a daily basis with her fancy clothes and the dreamlike state she prances about. Finally, when I’m almost directly behind her, she turns around. “Oh! Dearest, you scared me. I was happily in my head, thinking and– Never mind that.” The initial smile on her face turns into horror when she gasps, “My dear!” She gives me a quick lookover, as if to make sure nothing else is amiss than my soaked clothes. “What is the matter? What do you need?” [["I need a bath."|c6_q_needbath]] [["I wouldn't mind a warm hug."|c6_q_tinsaehug]]

Niall gives me a wide smile when he sees me. “Oh, hello–” Then, he frowns at the sight of my clothes. “Why do you look like you were wandering in the forest for hours?” “Because I was, Niall.” “But why?” He looks thoroughly confused. [[Tell him the truth.|c6_q_nialltruth]] [["Don't ask questions. Offer me a bath."|c6_q_niallshutup]] [["It's none of your business." I'm cold and tired and just want to leave.|c6_q_noneofyourbusinessniall]]

Oh, shit. I cringe at the sight of that man and look for a way to walk around him. Then, as if he smells me, he turns in my direction. He squints his eyes and starts walking towards me, clearly having not recognized me just yet. Right. Because he has the eyesight of a vole. Just when I’m about to run past him and flee the scene, his line of vision becomes clearer and he grins like a fool at the sight of me. “Thought it was you, I smelled you from afar. You look like a wet rat,” he says as a greeting. [["Not now," I say and try to walk past him.|c6_q_notnow]] [["Eat shit and die," I reply as a greeting.|c6_q_eatshit]] [["Yours was the last face I needed to see."|c6_q_nowanttosee]] [[Remain silent and continue walking.|c6_q_continuewalking]]

But he stops me with his arm on my chest. “This is the perfect time to talk about your little adventures, don’t you think?” “Let me go,” I say with a frown as I free myself from his clutches. “Don’t be so grim. Now, why were you out there?” he asks, looking at the direction I walked from. “None of your business.” “But it is. I’m your superior officer, I need to know everything you do in your free time. That is the law.” “It’s not.” “It is now.” He waits for my response. I provide him with none. He sighs. “Why do you always refuse to co-operate?” He knows why. “You’re grimy,” he says. “What’s it to you?” “You smell like shit. As your superior officer, I’m obliged to command you to take a bath. And since you refuse to use the public ones, I’m inviting you to mine.” “Yours?” I frown. And what’s with this crap that I refuse to use public ones? He knows I can’t use them. He’s known all along. “I won’t be there, of course. Unless you want me to.” He gives me a lopsided grin. And I don’t even bother giving him an answer. “Fine, arrange me with a bath,” I command him. It’s his fault that I’m in this position anyway. “Please?” he says. “No.” He shakes his head, as if deeply displeased with my rudeness. But it’s all part of the act, as everything is with him. In the end, he does give me the directions to his villa. It’s better than nothing. He owes me that much. [[Go to Marcus's bath.]]

He chuckles. “Today is not a good day to die due to shit eating.” He looks at the forest I came from. “Were you plotting the demise of the Romans out there?” “Yes. I’m starting with burning the fort down. Now, if you’ll excuse me–” He stops me with his arm on my chest. I almost growl in response. “Don’t touch me.” “You’re grimy,” he says. “What’s it to you?” “You smell like shit. As your superior officer, I’m obliged to command you to take a bath. And since you refuse to use the public ones, I’m inviting you to mine.” “Yours?” I frown. And what’s with this crap that I refuse to use public ones? He knows I can’t use them. He’s known all along. “I won’t be there, of course. Unless you want me to.” He gives me a lopsided grin. And I don’t even bother giving him an answer. “Fine, arrange me with a bath,” I command him. It’s his fault that I’m in this position anyway. “Please?” he says. “No.” He shakes his head, as if deeply displeased with my rudeness. But it’s all part of the act, as everything is with him. In the end, he does give me the directions to his villa. It’s better than nothing. He owes me that much. [[Go to Marcus's bath.]]

“What’s wrong with my face?” “The sight of it just makes me deeply ill.” Seeing him grin as a response makes my blood boil. “Now now, you’re being dramatic. Unless your poor tummy truly feels ill, you can take a day off.” I roll my eyes. “Anyway…” He looks at the forest I came from. “Were you plotting the demise of the Romans out there?” “Yes. I’m starting with burning the fort down. Now, if you’ll excuse me–” He stops me with his arm on my chest. I almost growl in response. “Don’t touch me.” “You’re grimy,” he says. “What’s it to you?” “You smell like shit. As your superior officer, I’m obliged to command you to take a bath. And since you refuse to use the public ones, I’m inviting you to mine.” “Yours?” I frown. And what’s with this crap that I refuse to use public ones? He knows I can’t use them. He’s known all along. “I won’t be there, of course. Unless you want me to.” He gives me a lopsided grin. And I don’t even bother giving him an answer. “Fine, arrange me with a bath,” I command him. It’s his fault that I’m in this position anyway. “Please?” he says. “No.” He shakes his head, as if deeply displeased with my rudeness. But it’s all part of the act, as everything is with him. In the end, he does give me the directions to his villa. It’s better than nothing. He owes me that much. [[Go to Marcus's bath.]]

He stops me with his arm on my chest. I give him a deathly stare in response and he promptly ignores it with his arm still preventing me from leaving. Out of spite, I yank myself free from his grasp. “Why were you out there?” he asks, looking at the direction I was in. “None of your business.” “But it is. I’m your superior officer, I need to know everything you do in your free time. That is the law.” “It’s not.” “It is now.” He waits for my response. I provide him with none. He sighs. “Why do you always refuse to co-operate?” He knows why. “You’re grimy,” he says. “What’s it to you?” “You smell like shit. As your superior officer, I’m obliged to command you to take a bath. And since you refuse to use the public ones, I’m inviting you to mine.” “Yours?” I frown. And what’s with this crap that I refuse to use public ones? He knows I can’t use them. He’s known all along. “I won’t be there, of course. Unless you want me to.” He gives me a lopsided grin. And I don’t even bother giving him an answer. “Fine, arrange me with a bath,” I command him. It’s his fault that I’m in this position anyway. “Please?” he says. “No.” He shakes his head, as if deeply displeased with my rudeness. But it’s all part of the act, as everything is with him. In the end, he does give me the directions to his villa. It’s better than nothing. He owes me that much. [[Go to Marcus's bath.]]

“That’s evident, my dear.” She gives me another concerned look. “Isn’t there a bath in the barracks?” “Yes, but… I can’t use it.” As I’m about to come up with some kind of excuse, she stops me with the elegant move of her hand. “You needn’t say anything more, dear. I will arrange for you to have a private bath. Don’t worry about a thing.” “I… Thank you.” She shakes her head with a smile, implying that thanks aren’t necessary. “Is there anything else you need?” “No, thank you.” With her, everything seems so easy and effortless. You just get a bath out of her if you ask her. Unlike some people who just leave me hanging cold and wet in the middle of a forest. [[“Do you need a walk back home?” she asks.|c6_q_needawalkhome]]

Without another word, she buries me in her arms like an alley cat she found in the snow. \<<if $not_interested isnot true>> I’m buried against her soft bosom. <</if>>\ Her embrace warms me up quickly enough, even if I know it to be only temporary; the Northern wind will whip my skin once more once the hug is done with. But now, I’m taking in her floral scent, her warmth, and the uncomplex feelings she has for me. She wants to take care of me. She wants to warm me up and give me comfort. That much seems clear. It’s a nice change from a certain someone who just left me wandering the freezing forest for hours. Finally, when she senses that I’m satisfied, she lets me go with a smile on her face. “Do you need anything else?” "Yes. A bath." “That’s evident, my dear.” She gives me another concerned look. “Isn’t there a bath in the barracks?” “Yes, but… I can’t use it.” As I’m about to come up with some kind of excuse, she stops me with the elegant move of her hand. “You needn’t say anything more, dear. I will arrange for you to have a private bath. Don’t worry about a thing.” “I… Thank you.” She shakes her head with a smile, implying that thanks aren’t necessary. “Is there anything else you need?” “No, thank you.” With her, everything seems so easy and effortless. It's... refreshing. [[“Do you need a walk back home?” she asks.|c6_q_needawalkhome]]

“Is that proper?” A woman of her stature shouldn’t walk about without a chaperone. Roman customs. Stupid Roman customs. She purses her lips in thought. “No,” she admits. “Caleb isn’t here, either. I…” She sighs. “I’m sorry. Social conventions can be foolish.” “Will you be alright?” “Don’t worry about a thing. I was just about to visit a friend and the house isn’t far. Please just fetch yourself a change of clothes as soon as possible, you look like you’re freezing your sweet little buttocks off.” Despite the lightness in her words, she’s clearly concerned. “My sweet buttocks? Really?” “Do you disagree, dear?” With a warm smile on her face we bid farewell. [[Go to Camilla's bath. (Tinsae's bath entrance coming soon)|Go to Camilla's bath.]]

The frown on her face turns ever deeper. “Hot spring? There are no such things here.” “Really?” Did Quinn lie? She gives me a penetrating look, as if trying to make sense of something she’s missing from my explanation. “Why were you looking for a hot spring?” she asks. I shrug. No reason. “Why won’t you use the public bath?” she asks in a rapid fire. “I just don’t feel like being perceived right now.” The lie leaves me easily enough because it’s not a lie, not technically. She ponders on my answer. Then, she nods. “If it’s a bath you need, I will arrange you with one.” “I–” I don’t need her help? Was that what I was going to say? Because I do. “Fine,” I say, begrudgingly. [["Thank you," I add.|c6_q_politecamilla]] [[I leave without another word.|c6_q_camillaleave]]

She scoffs. Then, she gives me another quick lookover. “You look terrible.” “Thanks.” “Dirty, too.” “I know, yes.” I sigh in annoyance and start walking away. “Wait,” she commands. When I don’t stop, she quickly walks up to me with a frown. “I will arrange a bath for you.” “You will? Why?” “Because you look pathetic and smell vile. Now stop asking questions and accept the gift.” I give her a skeptical look. It’s not like I have other choices since Quinn ditched me. “Fine.” “Fine,” she snaps back at me. But her tone rings more amused than annoyed. She gives me directions to the bath house. [[Go to Camilla's bath.]]

She opens her mouth, ready to strike me with an insult. Then, she bites down. Instead, she says through her teeth, “You’re welcome.” “That’s surprisingly nice of you,” I state the obvious. “Don’t get used to it.” “I certainly won’t,” I say with a small, lingering smile. “Do you want me to walk you back to the fort?” “No,” she snaps. Then, she looks at the wet snow with a spiteful scorn. “You know I can’t be seen with random soldiers.” Right. “I’ll see you later,” she adds before starting to march away in the snow. She always looks like she has important places to be. Maybe she has, I wouldn’t know. At least I’ll get a bath out of this. [[Go to Camilla's bath.]]

She doesn’t feel the need to act polite, so why should I? She doesn’t utter a word after me and I didn’t expect any. At least I’ll get a bath out of her. [[Go to Camilla's bath.]]

“I was looking for a hot spring that I was told was in there.” “Oh.” He frowns. “I don’t think I’ve ever seen one in my foraging trips.” “Really?” Defeat deflates my shoulders. I wouldn’t have thought that Quinn lied to me. “But of course, I don’t know everything about the forest. It’s a vast place. I just usually sense any nearby water and haven’t–” “You sense water? How?” “You know.” He shifts his feet and looks around, looking like he wants to be anywhere else than here. “That’s not important.” He focuses his attention back to me and frowns. “What’s important is your soaked clothes.” “Niall–” “You will have to come to my bath. In my villa,” he says with a stern look on his face. Then, the confidence melts away and he adds, “I mean, while I’m not there. If you don’t want me to be. And if you want to go there. I mean you look like you need to and–” “Yes, thank you. That’s exactly what I need,” I cut in to stop him from rambling. “Great! I will arrange you a carriage.” [[Thank him.|c6_q_thanksniall]] [[Give him a suspicious look.|c6_q_susniall]]

“Huh?” He looks around to see if anyone’s listening in. “I mean, yes, of course. You look like you really need it. You can come to my villa.” “Aren’t you going to ask me why I don’t want to use the public one?” “Should I?” My question only managed to confuse him. “I don’t like to bathe in public either, I thought it was just–” “Right, that’s exactly the reason. I just don’t like it.” “Alright…” He gives me a small, puzzled frown but decides against asking any more questions. Good. Instead, he promises to arrange me a carriage that will fetch me to his villa. [[Go to Niall's bath.]]

With a tired sigh, I try to dodge him but he steps in front of me with a worried frown. “Please, Hati, you’re soaked and dirty. You smell like sewage.” “Hey!” “I’m sorry,” he says as heat rushes to his cheeks. “I could’ve said that without the insult, yes. But it’s pretty bad. And I’m worried about you. You haven’t been in the baths with your comrades.” I frown. “It’s none of your–” “Because I understand. Is there anyone who prefers a public bath to a private one?” he asks, as if the answer is self-evident. That no one does. “Most of the Romans do,” I say. “Well, yes. But not all of us.” I raise my brow at the notion of ‘us’ but remain silent. “Anyway, my point is that I’m inviting you to my villa. To bathe. I won’t be there, of course. Unless you want me to but I doubt you do and–” I frown at his rambling. It doesn’t seem like a trap but a genuine offer. “Thank you,” I say to halt his waterfall of words. “Yes, you’re welcome.” He smiles in relief and promises to arrange me a carriage that will fetch me to his villa. [[Go to Niall's bath.]]

“Thank you, Niall,” I say with a small, grateful smile. He might talk a lot but he’s ready to help when I need it. It’s a nice change from a certain someone who just left me wandering the freezing forest for hours. “Don’t worry about it,” he says with a bright smile. “I’m just happy I can help.” [[Go to Niall's bath.]]

He offered me the bath far too easily. Is he planning on revealing my identity? Has Marcus already told him and he wants to confirm it? Sure, he doesn’t look like there’s even a trace of deception in that seemingly empty head of his. But it doesn’t mean there isn’t. He could be an excellent actor. He clears his throat and I realize I’ve been looking at him for a good while now. “Sorry, I don’t mind the silence. I just… You stared at me quite intensely.” Right. I clear my throat. “I should go.” [[Go to Niall's bath.]]

!!Back at the barracks \<<if $camilla_bath is true>> “A message for you, master.” A boy shoves something in my hands that I can’t even ask who’s it from. He’s already gone. I frown at the letter. [[Continue|c6_q_camillaletter]] \<<elseif $marcus_cry is true>> “A message for you, master.” A boy shoves something in my hands that I can’t even ask who’s it from. He’s already gone. I frown at the letter. There's also a little pouch accompanying it. [[Continue|c6_q_marcusletter]] \<<elseif (($niall_refusal is true) or ($niall_handjob is true))>> “A message for you, master.” A boy shoves something in my hands that I can’t even ask who’s it from. He’s already gone. I frown at the letter. There's also a little pouch accompanying it. [[Continue|c6_q_niallletter]] \<<else>> I’m so tired I wish I could just lie on the bed and die. Figuratively. It’s been a long day. [[Continue|c6_q_afterletters]] <</if>>\

Someone’s hands. I try to close them into a tight fist but they’re not mine to control. The owner of the hands is distraught, their heart pounds so fast it almost flees their chest. My mind blurs with theirs. There’s blood. Blood on the ground. Blood and dirt underneath my nails, bruises on my flesh. I’m scared. Blood rushes in my ears, my heart pounds. But I don’t fear judgment. No. I’m scared of the unknown. If they’ll hear me. I raise my gaze to a woman’s cold, unseeing stare. Her mouth is agape, forever twisted into a scream that no one will hear. Another one’s dead eyes stare at me but my heart remains unbothered by the sight. I ignore the gore, ignore the pair of dead holding their bound hands as they died, the elderly shielding each other in eternal embrace. I focus on the meaning of the flesh pile. The Righteous Butcher, please take them. Please don’t let this be in vain. Please help $name. Please… “I sacrifice,” the person says and the sound is painfully familiar. It’s Quinn. [[Wake up!|c6_q_wakeup]]

I don’t know what woke me up but it’s still too early. Just as I'm about to lie down and continue sleeping, I frown at the sight of a note on my chest, almost falling on the floor. Someone placed it there when I was asleep. Carefully, looking around to see if there’s Pec behind the corner cackling at his prank, I take the note and take off to a nearby brazier to give me light. The scribble on the note proves difficult to read. I squint at it, turn it around, and finally deduce it to say, “Hot spring. Now.” Quinn. There’s a little drawing of a bird in it. At least I think it’s a bird. It might also be a stain. I look at the note with my heart throbbing at my throat. $q_He wants to meet me. Good. I wanted to meet $q_him too. It’s already too early for the morning horn, I might have enough time to slip out of the fort unnoticed. \<<if $quinn_first_pick is true>> I already tried to find $q_him before but there was nothing. There are no instructions on the note, so I can only assume I should wander to the same direction I did before and expect a different result this time. It seems foolish. <</if>>\ [[Continue|corpse lake]]

\<<if $quinn_first_pick is true>> I frown at the already familiar trees and wonder if Frog is looking at me from the distance. Probably. <</if>>\ Finally, I see a stream of steam lingering in the air ahead. That’s it. That’s where Quinn is. When I see the pond, all I’m left with is puzzlement. Quinn is here, yes. But $q_his naked body floats in the steaming spring like a freshly killed carcass. $q_He’s completely naked and utterly unaware of my gaze. $q_His eyes are wide open, aimed at the sky, unseeing and dry. $q_His body looks malnourished. Bruises litter $q_his skin like clouds of storm. It’s like I can see $q_him clearly for the first time. There’s a fresh wound on $q_his leg, soaking in the hot water. “Quinn?” I say, my voice betraying a tremble. What would I do if $q_he’s dead? \<<if (($quinn_first_pick is true) or ($quinn_lover is true) or ($quinn_friend is true))>> Anxiety digs at my stomach, makes my chest heavy. “Quinn?” I ask again, this time with a softer tone, hoping it would wake $q_him up. <</if>>\ I touch $q_his skin and it’s cold as ice. $q_He’s dead. “Quinn!” I shake $q_his shoulders, splashing the water on my sleeves. Finally, $q_he turns $q_his head to me slowly, aiming $q_his unfocused eyes at me. After what feels like an eternity, recognition slowly lights up $q_his eyes. “It’s you,” $q_he says, lacking emotion. Then, $q_his skin starts to regain its warmth. $q_He smiles. “You’re here with me.” \<<if $quinn_first_pick is true>> “I already tried to find you but you were nowhere to be seen. I–” <</if>>\ $q_He starts coughing loudly, the cough fit stemming from the deepest depths of $q_his lungs. It almost makes me imagine pieces of $q_his lungs flying out of $q_him. Red lumps of meat. $q_He’s breaking to pieces in front of my eyes. \<<if $quinn_gender is "man">> [[Help him. Somehow.|c6_q_helphim.]] [[Remain in place and let him recover by himself.|c6_q_recoverhimself]] <<elseif $quinn_gender is "woman">> [[Help her. Somehow.|c6_q_helphim.]] [[Remain in place and let her recover by herself.|c6_q_recoverhimself]] <</if>>

$q_He gives me a long, confused look. Finally, $q_he says, “Is that bad?” “Of course it is!” I back off from $q_his lips, creating much needed distance. “That’s manipulation.” “It is?” $q_He frowns, as if the concept is truly foreign to $q_him. “Yes. You should want to kiss me on your own volition.” “What if I want to?” $q_He leans closer again but I dodge $q_his attempts. “I wouldn’t believe you, not after what you just admitted.” I give $q_him a deep frown. $q_He’s on thin ice as it is. “Oh.” $q_He backs down again, confusion distorting $q_his features. “I think I understand.” “You thi–” I bite my lip. The conversation is going in circles. Quinn gives me a sad look. “I’m sorry. I know that I hurt you. I keep hurting you with my words.” I sigh. At least $q_he knows that much. \<<if $quinn_monster is true>> “I’m a monster,” $q_he repeats my words and looks at the water. Hearing it makes me sigh deeper. [["I was just saying it. I don't think you are."|c6_q_justsaying]] [[Remain silent.|"I think something broke in me."]] <</if>>\

I need to help $q_him. I start beating $q_his back, not sure what else to do. There isn’t a piece of meat stuck in $q_his throat so it does little to help $q_him. But it’s something. It makes me feel like I’m doing something. $q_He keeps coughing. When there’s nothing else to do, I start stroking $q_his back. Still, $q_he keeps coughing. Finally, little by little, the coughing subsides and $q_he regains control of $q_himself. I stop stroking $q_him. [["Is this normal for you?" I ask.]]

I look at $q_him cough, a part of me wondering if it’s an act. To make me feel sympathy towards $q_him. If it was, it’s really convincing. The coughing fit ensues and I start to fidget with my fingers. I should try to help. $q_He’s my friend. Still, $q_he is. I can’t just… With a deeply frustrated groan, I start beating $q_his back, unsure if it’ll do anything to help $q_him. At least it’s a way to relieve me of my aggressions towards $q_him. “Stop beating me up, you maniac,” $q_he wheezes between the coughs. “Oh, right.” I stop and clear my throat. “Sorry.” Finally, little by little, the coughing subsides and $q_he regains control of $q_himself. [["Is this normal for you?" I ask.]]

“The coughing fits?” $q_he asks, as if I’d ask about anything else in a time like this. “Somewhat.” I frown. “What does it mean? And why were you floating in the pond like a corpse?” “Sorry about that. I think my body had some sort of malfunction.” “Your body had a what?” $q_He ponders for a moment, taking in my gaze, seemingly contemplating on $q_his choice of words. “I mean that I felt ill. Nothing serious. Nothing to worry about.” $q_He smiles, trying to appear normal, as if nothing is wrong. But it makes $q_his features look even more grotesque, out of place. “You felt cold to the touch. Your eyes were lifeless. I thought you were dead.” $q_He shrugs. “Not yet.” [[I feel tears forming in my eyes. I was scared. I'm a mess of things.|c6_q_mess]] [["How can you be so nonchalant about this?" I'm getting angry.|c6_q_angry]] [[Remain silent.|c6_q_silent5]]

“Oh, no. Please don’t cry. I just felt a bit bad and… You know how it is.” \<<if $fire is true>> I blink angrily at the tears, forcing them to leave me. “No, I don’t! People have never mistaken me for a corpse!” $q_He blinks at my words. “Right. That’s not normal to you.” “No, it’s not! And why is it that I have to explain that to you?” “I… Don’t know what’s happening with me. So I just try to ignore it. I try to make a joke out of it. And it’s not funny, I guess.” I exhale in exhaustion. The flood of emotions is tiring and I just got here. “It’s not your fault,” I say. “Sorry for snapping at you.” “I’m just happy you care,” $q_he says with a sincere smile on $q_his face. The statement is selfish in nature but at this point, I expect nothing less from $q_him. \<<elseif $earth is true>> I blink and the tears are gone. For now. Now, there’s just the remnants of the fear and panic I felt. I stare at Quinn, the culprit of those feelings. “No, I don’t know how it is. I’ve never been mistaken for a corpse before.” “Huh. I suppose you haven’t.” “That’s not normal.” “No. But…” $q_He gives me a careful smile. “I like it that you care.” I stare at $q_him expressionlessly. I shouldn’t expect anything less than to hear that my fear and anxiety are appealing to $q_him. “Don’t look at me like that,” $q_he squirms. “I mean… Let’s forget about this.” \<<elseif $air is true>> I blink and the tears are gone. For now. Now, there’s just the remnants of the fear and panic I felt. I stare at Quinn, relieved that $q_he’s alive, but something about $q_his carefreeness makes me uneasy. “I… Like it that you care.” $q_He smiles. I raise my brows at the statement. I shouldn’t expect anything less than to hear that my fear and anxiety are appealing to $q_him. “Don’t look at me like that,” $q_he squirms. “I mean… Let’s forget about this.” \<<elseif $water is true>> Tears flow freely down my cheeks. “I thought you were dead,” I repeat. “I was mentally preparing myself for your death. I–” $q_He shifts towards me, reaching to wipe my tears away. $q_His skin is still cold as $q_he touches me. $q_He looks at me with regret written all over $q_his face. “I didn’t want to make you cry,” $q_he says. “Seeing me like that scared you,” $q_he says but it’s difficult to say if it’s a question instead of a statement. “Yes.” “And I love you for it. It’s beautiful that you care.” “I…” I gawk at $q_his face. “My grief and fear are beautiful for you?” $q_He rubs the back of $q_his neck. “It sounds weird if you put it like that.” “There isn’t any other way to put it.” “Right.” <</if>>\ [[Continue|c6_q_givehimacarefullook]]

It’s an all too familiar feeling with $q_him nowadays. Anger at $q_his jovial words, $q_his carefree attitude when it comes to $q_his wellbeing. When it comes to anything at all. $q_He treats it all like a big joke. “I… Don’t know what’s happening with me. So I just try to ignore it. I try to make a joke out of it. And it’s not funny, I guess.” I exhale in exhaustion. The flood of emotions is tiring and I just got here. “But I think I’m fine enough now. I feel fine. And I’m happy that you’re here.” $q_He actually looks happy." [[Continue|c6_q_givehimacarefullook]]

I really don’t know what to say. $q_He treats this all as a big joke. $q_His health, what happened… Quinn shifts uncomfortably, looking away, fully sensing that I’m not in the mood right now. “I… Don’t know what’s happening with me. So I just try to ignore it. I try to make a joke out of it. And it’s not funny, I guess.” I exhale in exhaustion. The flood of emotions is tiring and I just got here. “I think I’m fine enough now. I feel fine. And I’m happy that you’re here.” $q_He actually looks happy. [[Continue|c6_q_givehimacarefullook]]

$q_His body is in bad shape. $q_He’s malnourished, $q_his ribs are clearly visible. The way $q_he coughed tells me all I need to know about the state of $q_his innards. “How long do you have?” I ask frankly. There’s no need to beat around the bush. $q_He’s dying and the Twins won’t help $q_him. \<<if $cernunnos_quinn_promise is true>> I can only hope that Cernunnos will. <</if>>\ Quinn looks deadly tired. “Weeks? Months? Maybe till spring. I can help you still.” $q_He smiles and nods, desperately trying to appear like $q_his old self. [["You should leave. Go home."|c6_q_gohome]] [["We should leave together."|c6_q_weshouldleave]] [[Remain silent.|c6_q_remainsilent6]]

Hope raises its head within me. It would explain everything, if it wasn’t the Twins infecting $q_him. It would take a load off my chest, it would– “Don’t look so happy about it,” $q_he says with a tired smile. “I just… I would prefer it if it wasn’t them,” I admit. “But what’s the alternative? That there’s a malign god or a demon after us now? Wouldn’t you prefer it if the explanation was something far more familiar? Something we can understand?” “I don’t know.” I rub my face. I don’t want it to be true. But for now, there’s no other alternative. Besides, there’s a smell about $q_him. Something I’ve smelled many times before. Something awfully familiar. The scent that lingered in the grove. "Why don't you want it to be true?" $q_he asks. [[I don't want them to give Quinn a blessing instead of me.|c6_q_jelly]] [[I don't want them to require blood for their blessing.|c6_q_noblood]] [[It just feels wrong. A curse instead of a blessing.|c6_q_curse]] [["No. I know it to be true," I say with conviction.|c6_q_conviction]]

“My whole life is a joke,” $q_he closes $q_his eyes wearily. “I’m sorry for my light words, I’m just a little tired. I find this whole topic a little redundant.” “Why?” “You know it’s true. That it was the Twins.” I don’t want it to be true. But for now, there’s no other alternative. Besides, there’s a smell about $q_him. Something I’ve smelled many times before. Something awfully familiar. The scent that lingered in the grove. "Why don't you want it to be true?" $q_he asks. [[I don't want them to give Quinn a blessing instead of me.|c6_q_jelly]] [[I don't want them to require blood for their blessing.|c6_q_noblood]] [[It just feels wrong. A curse instead of a blessing.|c6_q_curse]] [["No. I know it to be true," I say with conviction.|c6_q_conviction]]

It’s selfish, it’s vain. But it’s the truth. I’ve been begging for them to notice me for months, even years before this. When I needed them most, they would’ve chosen to answer Quinn instead of me? It’s… insulting. It pains my very core. [[Continue|c6_q_readingmythoughts?]]

To think that they’d require blood sacrifice in order to act, to do something to help. Why? Why didn’t they answer when I called for them earlier? But… It does make sense, in a way. The Twins must’ve felt desperate when the grove was burnt down. Maybe they couldn’t answer due to the confusion, maybe the connection was broken due to chaos. Why wouldn’t they lash out, grasp at straws? Quinn offered them a straw. Maybe… Maybe that’s the answer. [[Continue|c6_q_readingmythoughts?]]

I know it could’ve been an accident, maybe they didn’t mean it to happen to Quinn. Or, maybe they didn’t care for a single mortal life. With a frown, I banish the blasphemous thought away from my mind. The Twins are good, the Twins care for us. Maybe they didn’t care for Quinn. Maybe they will care for me. [[Continue|c6_q_readingmythoughts?]]

\<<set $trust_quinn_100 to true>> “Totally understand– I mean, what?” “I trust you. And I place my trust in the Twins, just as I’ve always done. And there’s a scent about you.” I step closer to take in the scent of For a moment, Quinn looks like $q_he’s about to burst into tears. Tears glimmer in the corners of $q_his eyes. “You are incredible,” $q_he says with a hushed, breathy voice. “Wha–” Before I can ask, $q_he’s already hugging my frame tightly. “I always knew you were reasonable, that your faith is strong. That’s why I love you so much.” \<<if $quinn_lover is true>> “Alright, alright,” I say through a chuckle. \<<else>> “And I love you,” I say through a chuckle. <</if>>\ A feeling of belonging embraces my heart and I can’t help but smile. I belong here with $q_him. Surrounded by the scent of the Twins. $q_He lets me go with a smile on $q_his face. $q_His eyes are adoring, $q_his cheeks look like they hurt from smiling. “I will give you a gift most precious, my dear friend.” I hold my breath. Is $q_he talking about– “The blessing. I will give you a part of it and you will be blessed, just like me.” $q_His words make me smile widely, my heart filling with joy. “But,” I start with a small frown. “All of it. Does it mean…?” “No. You won’t die. Trust me.” I do. With all my heart. [[Quinn takes the ceremonial dagger.|c6_q_dagger]]

All the while I ponder on the matter, Quinn stares at me. $q_His gaze is almost disturbing, too all-seeing, like $q_he’s– “Are you reading my thoughts?” “No.” But with $q_him, it’s difficult to know when $q_he’s not lying. “Do you trust me?” [["Fuck no."|c6_q_fuckno]] [["Absolutely not."|c6_q_fuckno]] [["Yes. I mean, I try to..."|c6_q_trytotrust]] [["I want to but I don't."|c6_q_wanttotrust]]

$q_He bursts out laughing. “I wish I could be offended but I’m not.” With a chuckle, $q_he asks, “Do you trust the Twins?” \<<if $chosen_one is true>> “With my life,” I say without hesitation. “You know I do,” I say, offended by the unnecessary question. Quinn gives me a poignant look. ‘This is what the Twins want,’ $q_he says with $q_his eyes. \<<elseif $believer is true>> “Yes, of course. It’s almost offensive to ask,” I say with a tense smile. “I apologize.” Quinn gives me a poignant look. ‘This is what the Twins want,’ $q_he says with $q_his eyes. \<<elseif $doubter is true>> “Yes, of course,” I say, years of practice in the grove doing all the heavy lifting for my faith. And the voice of my mother. $q_He gives me an unreadable look. “Of course you do. Isn’t it almost offensive that I asked?” “It is,” I confirm, kicking myself that I didn’t say it earlier. Of course it’s offensive that $q_he’s questioning the strength of my faith. It is strong. <</if>>\ I look away. I don’t know if the blessing is from the Twins. I don’t know for certain. I don’t– [[Quinn takes my hand.|c6_q_hand]]

\<<set $quinn_trust to true>> It feels almost foolish to say that out loud. How could I still trust $q_him when $q_he’s lied? Even now, I’m wondering if $q_he’s lying. But I want to believe that there are good reasons for $q_his previous lies, that $q_he wouldn’t lie when it comes to important things. “I trust your judgment to know when not to lie,” I say. A slow smile creeps onto $q_his lips. There’s something unreadable about it, it’s not a happy smile. Then, $q_he asks, “Do you trust the Twins?” \<<if $chosen_one is true>> “With my life,” I say without hesitation. “You know I do,” I say, offended by the unnecessary question. Quinn gives me a poignant look. ‘This is what the Twins want,’ $q_he says with $q_his eyes. \<<elseif $believer is true>> “Yes, of course. It’s almost offensive to ask,” I say with a tense smile. “I apologize.” Quinn gives me a poignant look. ‘This is what the Twins want,’ $q_he says with $q_his eyes. \<<elseif $doubter is true>> “Yes, of course,” I say, years of practice in the grove doing all the heavy lifting for my faith. And the voice of my mother. $q_He gives me an unreadable look. “Of course you do. Isn’t it almost offensive that I asked?” “It is,” I confirm, kicking myself that I didn’t say it earlier. Of course it’s offensive that $q_he’s questioning the strength of my faith. It is strong. <</if>>\ I look away. I don’t know if the blessing is from the Twins. I don’t know for certain. I don’t– [[Quinn takes my hand.|c6_q_hand]]

“Completely understandable, but...” $q_he says with a small smile. “Do you trust the Twins?” \<<if $chosen_one is true>> “With my life,” I say without hesitation. “You know I do,” I say, offended by the unnecessary question. Quinn gives me a poignant look. ‘This is what the Twins want,’ $q_he says with $q_his eyes. \<<elseif $believer is true>> “Yes, of course. It’s almost offensive to ask,” I say with a tense smile. “I apologize.” Quinn gives me a poignant look. ‘This is what the Twins want,’ $q_he says with $q_his eyes. \<<elseif $doubter is true>> “Yes, of course,” I say, years of practice in the grove doing all the heavy lifting for my faith. And the voice of my mother. $q_He gives me an unreadable look. “Of course you do. Isn’t it almost offensive that I asked?” “It is,” I confirm, kicking myself that I didn’t say it earlier. Of course it’s offensive that $q_he’s questioning the strength of my faith. It is strong. <</if>>\ I look away. I don’t know if the blessing is from the Twins. I don’t know for certain. I don’t– [[Quinn takes my hand.|c6_q_hand]]

I almost refuse it but when I look at $q_him, I let $q_him take it, as if in daze. Fervent faith burns in $q_his gaze, making me feel the same heat in my own heart. $q_He wants me to share the blessing with $q_him. $q_He wants me to be a part of it. “Listen.” $q_he says. I close my eyes. I hear the water, the trees. The dead forest muted by snow. But there’s something else. //cuckoo cuckoo// My eyes open wide at the unnatural sound of a cuckoo during winter. They should have migrated to warmer lands by now. Quinn gives me a firm nod when my gaze finds $q_his. Then, the screech and chatter of a shrike joins the song. Shrike and cuckoo. The birds of the Twins are here during winter. Most unnatural, most… My breathing starts to quicken. They’re here. This is no coincidence. They’re here. Then, the scent of something awfully familiar creeps into my nostrils. The smell of sweet copper and the evergreen forest. The scent of the Twins. They’re here. They’re responsible for the blessing, they accepted the blood sacrifice. [[My heart fills with joy. They're here to help us.|c6_q_joy]] [[I'm struck down with grief and confusion. They accepted the blood.|c6_q_grief]] [[I don't know how to feel about this.|c6_q_dunno]]

I knew it. I knew it all along. I shouldn’t have doubted them. There is no need for me to analyze the blessing, all I need to do is to have faith in them. [[Continue|c6_q_gift]]

Quinn gives me a look of sympathy. “You look defeated.” “I just can’t believe that they’d ask for blood. Or accept it. I…” Twins wouldn’t do that. $q_He gives me a long, unreadable look. I ask, “Does it bother you that I’m bothered?” For a while, $q_he doesn’t give me an answer. Then, $q_he says, “The Twins didn’t demand my sacrifice. There were whispers in the trees saying that it might help.” “So you… Did it on your own accord.” “They were desperate times. You know this.” “But I…” What if it was me? What if the Twins asked me for a human sacrifice? Could I do it for them? Are they going to ask for one? Are they– Quinn takes my hand in $q_his. \<<if $quinn_afraid is true>> I yank my hand quickly back in fear, bordering on disgust. $q_He killed all those people with those hands. $q_He– Quinn takes a step back. “Oh, I… I’m sorry. I shake my head. It’s not fine but at least it’s something that $q_he realizes to give me space when I need it. “Sorry that I touched you. I will remember that better in the future,” $q_he says and clears $q_his throat. \<<elseif $quinn_afraid_hurt is true>> I yank my hand quickly back in fear. “I–” I’m sorry? For not being able to let $q_him touch me like I used to. For fearing $q_his bloodsoaked hands. “Please don’t apologize for anything,” $q_he says quickly, taking a step back, looking away. My heart feels heavy at the sight. I wish things could be like they used to be. “Sorry that I touched you. I will remember that better in the future,” $q_he says and clears $q_his throat. I want to say that I don’t mind $q_his touch but I do. I just wish I didn’t. \<<else>> “You needn’t worry,” $q_he says. $q_His tone of voice is almost convincing. “They wouldn’t force you to do anything like that. It was my choice.” “How do you know that?” “Wishful thinking on my part?” $q_He gives me a small smile. “But seriously, you know they love you. Have they ever made you do anything you don’t want to do?” “No… I don’t think so.” “See?” I take a deep breath. <</if>>\ [[Continue|c6_q_gift]]

Quinn gives me a slow, inspecting look. Then, $q_he smiles. “You’re taking this well.” “Well? I don’t know how to react. What to feel.” “Joy over them seeing you and wanting to help? They wouldn’t be here if they didn’t want to help. Maybe fear over the thought that they accepted the blood sacrifice and as their druid, you might also be asked for that?” \<<if (($psycho is true) and ($dummy isnot true))>> $q_He quickly shakes $q_his head. “I take that back. I think you’re ready for anything.” I nod. I think I am. “And I admire that about you.” $q_He gives me an appreciating smile. “Thank you.” “Anything for the good of us,” $q_he repeats, emphasizing the word ‘us’. I take a deep breath. Alright. I know what I need to do. \<<elseif (($human_sacrifice is true) and ($dummy isnot true))>> Would I be worried about that? I frown. Maybe I’ve toyed with the thought but– “But I don’t think that’s the case with you,” $q_he says with an appreciating smile. “I admire that about you.” “Thank you?” \<<elseif $dummy is true>> My eyes widen. “I might be?” “I thought it was obvious,” $q_he says with a small frown. “But you shouldn’t worry about that.” “I wasn’t worrying before you said it.” “Well, yes. I thought… Anyway. Not important. But it’s good that you don’t worry about that. I did the sacrifice on my own accord. They didn’t ask for it from me. They love you. They would never make you do anything you don’t want to do.” \<<else>> The thought did cross my mind, among other things. $q_He gives me a small smile. “You know they love you. Have they ever made you do anything you don’t want to do?” “No… I don’t think so.” “See?” I take a deep breath. <</if>>\ [[Continue|c6_q_gift]]

“I will give you a part of the blessing that runs within me.” \<<if $dummy is true>> “You will?” I frown. “I was leading up to it, yes.” “I didn’t notice.” “Well, I’m telling you now.” I take a deep breath. \<<else>> I nod. That much seemed clear from $q_his words. <</if>>\ “It will help you with your mission. It will help you stay alive. And…” $q_He gives me a meaningful glance. “It will make you ever closer with the Twins.” Yes, something in my heart knows it to be true. I need to receive this blessing in order to be even worthier for the Twins. \<<if (($quinn_afraid is true) and ($quinn_afraid_hurt))>> “Even if you doubt me, even if there’s fear in your heart for what I did,” $q_he says in a heavy tone, “This has nothing to do with me. It’s for the Twins.” <</if>>\ \<<if $chosen_one is true>> I nod with religious fervor. I know it in my heart to be true. If them ignoring me has something to with their doubt of the strength of my faith, this should wipe those doubts away. Me, opening my heart to their blessing without reservation, without a trace of fear, without a trace of worry for my own safety. If that’s all it takes, I’m happy to oblige. \<<elseif $believer is true>> I take a deep breath. Even if there’s fear in my heart, I can surpass it. I need to trust in my faith. \<<elseif $doubter is true>> I give $q_him a thin, almost uncertain smile. And $q_he gives me an unreadable look in return. As if $q_he knows the lack of unshakeable faith in my heart. As if $q_he sees it and judges it. There is no doubt in my heart. I believe. I believe. <</if>>\ [[Quinn takes the ceremonial dagger.|c6_q_dagger]]

And, without hesitation, $q_he slices $q_his palm open with it. Blood trickles down. The blood looks black in the darkness. \<<if $chosen_one is true>> I nod, and my faith is unshakeable. I cut open my palm, ignoring the pain. I’m ready. \<<elseif $believer is true>> I swallow. My throat is a little dry. “Don’t be nervous, my friend,” $q_he says with a knowing smile. “I’m not. I have faith in the Twins.” “Good.” Without hesitation, I cut open my palm, ignoring the pain. I’m ready. \<<elseif $doubter is true>> I swallow. My throat is dry. “Will it ruin my body, too? Will I die?” “You will not die.” “How can you be sure?” “This is just a fraction of the power that surges within me. It will not lead you to ruin. It will help you.” “What will it do?” “I don’t know,” $q_he says. There’s truth in $q_his words. Truth that I fear. I should just… have faith. I have it. I have faith. I have faith in the Twins. With newly-found determination, I cut my palm open. <</if>>\ $q_He takes my bloody hand with a smile, entwining $q_his own blood with mine. “The Twins see the strength of your faith, my friend. They will reward you.” I nod and can't raise my head back up. Dizziness takes over me. \<<if $cernunnos_promise is true>> //infection// My eyes widen at the word. Where did that come from? Who– “We should–” But there’s no halting the ritual. $q_His blood already flows with mine. And immediately after, every trace of doubt leaves my being. This is right. <</if>>\ The power of the Twins surges inside me, making me whole. //you will see the sins// //you will see the regret// //you will see// I will see. [[I will see.|c6_q_iwillsee]]

I open my eyes. The sun is already up, at least from what I can see through the gray clouds. How long was I out? Then there’s Quinn, smiling at me. “Welcome back,” $q_he says. “They spoke to me!” I shout at $q_his face. “The Twins?” My heart races, galloping like a wild horse. I heard them. They’re here. They really blessed Quinn. It was them. And now the same blessing runs in my veins. At least a part of it. Excitement makes me smile. “Will I be able to read thoughts, too?” I ask. “Try it.” I try to focus on Quinn, $q_his thoughts, $q_his emotions. But there’s nothing. $q_He just stares at me expectantly. I frown in disappointment. “No. I can’t hear anything.” Quinn gives me a consoling smile. “Maybe it’s for the better.” “Right, the whole dying thing.” It’s better to have just a fraction of the powers. I will have to see where this leads. “I mean…,” I say with a weak smile. “It’s fine. How do you feel?” “About the same,” I say and rub my forehead. There’s a sense of weirdness in the back of my eyes. Like something new has taken its nest there. “The Twins said that I would see.” “See what?” “See something. Sins, regret, something.” I squint my eyes at $q_him, then sigh when there’s nothing. “I don’t see anything.” “Maybe it takes a while to stew,” $q_he offers an explanation. “Maybe. That would make sense.” “If any of this makes sense,” $q_he says with a thin smile. Right. \<<if $chosen_one is true>> I feel the power of the Twins surging through my veins. It’s empowering, exhilarating. I can’t help but smile like a fool. \<<elseif $believer is true>> I feel the power of the Twins surging through my veins. It’s empowering, exhilarating. I can’t help but smile like a fool. \<<elseif $doubter is true>> Guilt tries to creep into my heart. Why did I doubt their care for me? They do care. They gave me a gift. Finally they noticed my existence. Finally, they showed that they care. <</if>>\ “Feels good, right?” “Yes,” I say. “The power… it feels like it belongs there.” “Good.” Quinn smiles proudly. [[Continue|c6_q_floyd]]

Finally, it’s time to start heading back to the fort. A part of me is a little concerned about the time I’ve spent away. The others have definitely noticed. After I exit the forest and finally feel the stone road underneath my boots, Floyd walks up to me. No, he doesn't walk. He jogs, panting, clearly worried. “Where were you?” he asks. “The morning horn was ages ago. Lord Centurion is looking for you, who knows what he will do to you.” [["Marcus?" I scoff. "He can suck my ass for all I care."|c6_q_suckassmarcus]] [["Look... I'm a little tired."|c6_q_tired2]] [["It's fine. I'm fine."|c6_q_fine]]

His brows shoot to his hairline. “That’s… Not the answer I was looking for but… Alright.” He doesn’t sound convinced that Marcus would eventually end up sucking on my behind. “Don’t worry about it.” I certainly don’t worry about it. It hasn’t been that long and I can still come up with something. Besides, Marcus wouldn’t do anything to me. One of his weaknesses. [[Continue|c6_q_floyd_head]]

“You look like you haven’t slept in days.” He grimaces at the sight of my face. “Where were you? Why did you go there in the middle of the night? Why–” “I’m really, really tired, Floyd. I just need to be left alone, alright?” “I…” He sighs, rakes his hair, scratches his scalp like I’m making his life a living hell. [[Continue|c6_q_floyd_head]]

“That’s great that you’re fine, Hati, but that’s only half the issue here. Where were you? And was it so important that–” “I was taking a walk.” “A walk? I…” He rakes his hair, scratches his scalp like I’m making his life a living hell. “Look, I’m here and everything’s fine. We can talk about this at the fort, alright?” He sighs. “Fine, yes, you’re right.” [[Continue|c6_q_floyd_head]]

Floyd gives me one last look of concern before turning around to leave. Just when I try to follow him, a sense of lightheadedness takes over me. With my eyes closed, I wait for the sensation to pass. How inconvenient. \<<if $manipulated is true>> As if me walking in a daze around the fort isn’t suspicious enough, now I’m threatening to faint out of the blue. <</if>>\ I rub my eyes and try to will the sensation to pass. I don’t need this right now. When I open my eyes, there’s the back of Floyd’s head. And a pair of bloodshot eyes peek beneath his chestnut hair. Unnaturally large, the size of a fist. The pupils dart around, looking at the trees, the sky, the ground, in rapid succession. My blood freezes. I don’t know why but they shouldn’t look at me. //you weren’t looking// I shake my head. You're wrong. I looked. [[I looked.|c6_q_ilooked]]

You’re wrong, I looked. I looked. But I didn’t see. I looked away for just a moment and– //you weren’t looking// [[I looked!|c6_q_ilooked!]]

//you weren’t looking// “I looked,” I say faintly. I inhale, but can’t breathe. Water rushes into my lungs. I try to breathe but can’t. He’s not looking. He will save me. Please. Save me. I try to make him see but he won't. //you weren’t looking// I take a step back. No. I try to take a step back. My feet are too heavy to move. Panic flares up my limbs. I need to run. I need to breathe. The eyes hunt for something. They need to see– I try to move my feet, try to move. Try to breathe. I can’t– The eyes focus on me, the pupils grow large as plates in recognition. //you weren’t looking// [[I scream.|c6_q_scream]]

It takes a moment to realize that I’m lying in the snow staring at the sky. I can breathe again. I breathe too quickly. I squint my eyes shut. What happened? Then, I realize that Floyd is next to me, holding my hand, bent over me, confused and worried. “What’s wrong?” \<<if $fire is true>> “The eyes!” That’s all I can say as I gesture at the back of his head. Panic still surges in me and I try not to turn his head forcefully and see if they’re still there. Or if I’ve lost my mind completely. “Eyes? What?” He looks at me as if I’ve completely lost it. Maybe I have. I breathe. “Can you… show me the back of your head?” He gives me a concerned glance before turning his head so I can see. No eyes. \<<elseif $earth is true>> I open my mouth to say something but just barely manage to silence myself. Don’t talk, he will think you’re insane. All I can do is to look at him, try to see the back of his head, if they’re still there, or if I am indeed insane. He turns to see what I’m looking at, giving me a clear view of the back of his head. The eyes are gone. \<<elseif $air is true>> I open my mouth to say something but only a weak surge of air comes out. Are the eyes still there? I try to see the back of his head, I need to see if they’re still there, or if I am indeed insane. He turns to see what I’m looking at, giving me a clear view of the back of his head. The eyes are gone. \<<elseif $water is true>> “You had eyes at the back of your head,” I whisper, only barely aware that I shouldn’t talk at all. “Eyes? What?” He looks at me as if I’ve completely lost it. Maybe I have. I breathe. “Can you… show me the back of your head?” He gives me a concerned glance before turning his head so I can see. No eyes. <</if>>\ He turns to me again, growing ever more concerned over my “Are you… alright?” \<<if $dummy is true>> [[I'm not alright.|c6_q_dummyhati]] \<<else>> [[It's the blessing. Calm down.|c6_q_smarthati]] <</if>>\

I’m not alright, I’m seeing things, feeling things that I shouldn’t. What is going on? “I think I’m going insane,” I say with a little chuckle. The Twins protect me, I’m going insane. “Do you need to see the medic?” he asks carefully, as if afraid that I’d break to pieces if he talked any louder. “No. No.” I shake my head and get up. “No. I’m sorry. I think I need to clear my head. Take a walk.” “You just came back from the walk.” “Another walk,” I mutter and start walking away. “But what about Lord–” But I’m already running. [[Continue|c6_q_run]]

It’s the blessing. It must be the blessing. Oh, thank the Twins. At least there’s an explanation. The curiosity takes over me before I can help myself and I ask, “What is your sin? Regret? And why does it involve eyes at the back of your head? Someone drowning?” His eyes widen at my words. He takes a step back. “What–” He touches his hair but of course there’s nothing. Not anymore. No. There wasn’t anything in the first place. It was in my head. There is no more concern in his gaze. No, his gaze is filled with fear. And guilt. He clears his throat and takes a step back. “Do you need to see the medic?” I quickly shake my head. I shouldn’t talk about this to anyone. This was a mistake. “No. I’m sorry. I think I need to clear my head. Take a walk.” “You just came back from the walk.” “Another walk,” I mutter and start walking away. “But what about Lord–” But I’m already running. [[Continue|c6_q_run]]

When I’ve run far enough, I stop to think about what happened. \<<if $dummy is true>> When I’ve run far enough, I stop to think about what happened. The eyes gave me a proper spook but there’s something I’m missing about this. Something I should understand. //you will see// My eyes widen. Did I just see Floyd’s regret? Did it manifest itself in such a crude manner? Ugh. I rub my face and groan. I don’t want to see giant eyes in people’s heads. \<<else>> I need to be more discreet about this. Of course people will get spooked if I tell them that I know their deepest regrets. Who wouldn’t? I sigh in frustration. I didn’t expect this to happen so suddenly. I should’ve kept my mouth shut. <</if>>\ The vision was vague and disturbing, is it truly the blessing the Twins want me to have? Does Quinn see the world like this, too? Does $q_he see the world as I do now? Filled with sin, horror, and grotesque people? Somehow, $q_his deep hatred of people starts to make even more sense. I sit on a tomb. I barely notice what the tomb says, the dead one’s last words beg of me to remember to enjoy the life’s offerings with an open heart. I rub my face, again, trying to banish the emotions caused by the vision. They’re not mine. They were Floyd’s. What was his sin? What does he regret? He didn’t look but what does it mean? The memory still shakes me to my core. The feeling of drowning, of freezing water strangling me with all its might. It’s all a bit too much. \<<if $marcus_bath is true>> [[Continue|c6_q_marcuswakeup]] \<<elseif $tinsae_bath is true>> [[Continue|c6_q_tinsaewakeup]] \<<elseif $camilla_bath is true>> [[Continue|c6_q_camillawakeup]] \<<elseif $niall_bath is true>> [[Continue|c6_q_niallwakeup]] <</if>>\

“$name?” Someone’s calling for me. “$name!” The anxiety in the voice makes me frown. It sounds really distressed, making me wonder what’s so– Someone grabs me by my shoulders and starts shaking me. It makes my frown ever deeper. What is going on? The movement makes me realize that I’m quite cold. I’m freezing, in fact. That’s not good. My damp clothes combined with the freezing air is not a good fit. Anyway, who’s shouting at my name? My real name? There’s not many who know that, why is… I blink and see Niall’s extremely anxious eyes looking at me as he still shakes me like a ragdoll. I can only stare at him in confusion. He’s so close and I didn’t expect to see him here. “$name,” he says with a ragged breath. Thankfully, finally, he stops shaking me. “I’ve been looking for you. I was afraid you’d left. Then, I was afraid that you died and–” [["I'm weirdly happy to see you."|c6_q_weirdlyhappy]]

“You… Oh.” He swallows and lets go of me. “I’m happy you think that.” He smiles bashfully. Then, he frowns. “No, that’s not what we should talk about. Where were you? Do you wish to die?” “No, I didn’t have that on my wish list.” He tightens his jaw in a way that makes me worry for his teeth. “I’m not joking. If people find out that you’re sneaking out of the fort…” “Right. I shouldn’t be here.” “No! You shouldn’t!” he shouts with his large frame completely tense with anxiety and worry. He gives me one look and rubs his face. “I’m sorry for shouting. I–” But I barely hear his rambling. Instead, I look at him, expecting to see blood in his hands, or eyes where there shouldn’t be. But there’s nothing. \<<if $dummy is true>> “Don’t you have any sins? Any regrets? Why can’t I see them?” I ask, only half-aware that I’m speaking out loud. Niall’s brows are at his hairline. Then, worry takes over his features. “My regrets? What are you talking about?” “I, uh…” I look around, as if to find a way out of the situation. “I mean, a man like you must have regrets.” “Must I?” He frowns in complete confusion. What am I talking about? Change the subject. \<<else>> I’m not saying a thing. However, I am looking at him, searching for anything unfamiliar. Floyd’s vision was violent and grotesque, one would think that I wouldn’t have to search for its traces like this. Does this mean that there are no regrets in his life or that the powers work irregularly? “Is there something on my face?” Niall asks and only now I realize that I’ve been sitting here for a good while, staring at him without actually seeing him, wanting to see something else entirely. I clear my throat and look away. “Sorry.” Worry distorts his features. I need to change the subject. <</if>> [[“I’m cold. Give me your cloak.”|c6_q_gimme]] [[Shiver helplessly to insinuate that I’m really cold. Because I am.|c6_q_niallshiver]]

“$name?” Someone’s calling for me. “For fuck’s sake.” It’s familiar. As is the skin against mine. Warm. It makes me realize that I’m quite cold. I’m freezing, in fact. That’s not good. My damp clothes combined with the freezing air is not a good fit. Anyway, isn’t there someone right now? Next to me? I blink and see Marcus. \<<if $marcus_killer is true>> With a shout, I punch his arm. “Hey! What the fuck?” he yelps. “Don’t touch me!” I snarl at him despite the delirious state my mind is in. “Fine! Shit, I was wor–” He swallows the rest of the sentence and tightens his jaw. “What are you doing here?” he asks, instead. “You’re freezing.” \<<else>> “Huh?” My mouth twists into a grimace. “Why are you touching me?” I can still barely register what’s going on. Why is he here in the first place? He quickly lets go of my freezing hand. “I’ve been looking for you,” he says with a frown on his face when I expected a smirk. He looks almost worried. <</if>>\ I don’t answer. Instead, I look at him, expecting to see blood in his hands, or eyes where there shouldn’t be. But there’s nothing. \<<if $dummy is true>> “I expected to see your hands filled with blood,” I say with a confused frown. “There’s no way you haven’t committed sins in your life. You’re a murderer,” I continue, musing to myself. I’m almost oblivious to the fact that I’m talking out loud. But when I notice Marcus giving me a long look of serious concern, I realize my mistake. He already thinks I’m losing my sanity, now he has more proof. “I mean, figuratively speaking,” I try to explain. “Don’t tell me you lost the last bits of your sanity,” he says, sounding almost tired. “What have you been doing?” \<<else>> The powers don’t work now for some reason because there is no way this man hasn’t committed sins in his life. And I am not saying anything. He’s already suspecting that I’m losing my mind. No need to give him any more proof of that. I still give him a proper lookover, if there’s a chance that I missed something. But there’s nothing. “What’s wrong with you?” he asks. <</if>>\ “Nothing,” I say and look away. It’s none of his business. [["What are you even doing here?" I ask as an attack.|c6_q_attack]]

“I told you,” he says with a sigh and sits down on the tomb next to me. I grimace and try to move further away from him. What does he think he’s doing, sitting next to me like it’s nothing? “I was looking for you. Soldiers can get killed for disappearing like that.” [["So, you're threatening me?"|c6_q_threaten?]] [["If you came here to kill me, you're welcome to try."|c6_q_tryit]] [[I squint at him. There's no way he's here to 'save' me.|c6_q_squint]] [["Thank you...?"|c6_q_thanks?iguess]]

“No, you moron.” He groans and rubs his face in clear mental agony. “Fuck, you’re dense.” “Excuse me!” I frown and try to move even further from him. He sighs, preparing himself to talk to me slowly. “Do you understand that you could get killed?” Maybe. “Do you understand that I’m here to save you?” “Why would you do that?” “Gods know why, you’re so dense that I should’ve just stayed at home.” “Maybe you should’ve.” He sighs in frustration. “Why were you disassociating in the snow? You’re freezing.” “I’m not.” “Wh–” Another exasperated groan. “Take my cloak, you idiot.” “No.” “Just take it!” [["No!"|c6_q_nocloak!]] [["Fine."|c6_q_finethanks]]

“Fuck, you’re dense.” He groans. “I’m not here to kill you. I came here to check on you. And you looked like you were frozen to death.” “I’m not.” “Yes, I can see that now that you’re getting on my nerves.” “You’re welcome to leave.” He sighs, preparing himself to talk to me slowly. “Do you understand that you could get killed?” Maybe. “Do you understand that I’m here to save you?” “Why would you do that?” “Gods know why, you’re so dense that I should’ve just stayed at home.” “Maybe you should’ve.” He sighs in frustration. “Why were you disassociating in the snow? You’re freezing.” “I’m not.” “Wh–” Another exasperated groan. “Take my cloak, you idiot.” “No.” “Just take it!” [["No!"|c6_q_nocloak!]] [["Fine."|c6_q_finethanks]]

“Don’t look at me like that.” I remain silent. He sighs, preparing himself to talk to me slowly. “Do you understand that you could get killed for this?” Maybe. “Do you understand that I’m here because I don't want it to happen?” “Why would you do that?” “Gods know why, you’re so dense that I should’ve just stayed at home.” “Maybe you should’ve.” He sighs in frustration. “Why were you disassociating in the snow? You’re freezing.” “I’m not.” “Wh–” Another exasperated groan. “Take my cloak, you idiot.” “No.” “Just take it!” [["No!"|c6_q_nocloak!]] [["Fine."|c6_q_finethanks]]

“Well, you’re–” He halts his tongue and gives me a surprised look. “I thought you were going to argue.” “I understand that I shouldn’t be here. It’s a long story.” A shiver runs through my spine. It’s cold. Marcus gives me a frown. “You’re shivering. Take my cloak.” [[“It’s fine, I don’t–”|c6_q_noneedforcloak]] [[“Fine. Thank you.”|c6_q_thankyoucloak]]

“Hey! Druid!” A familiar voice shouts. The tone is as freezing as the air around me, sticking needles into my flesh and ears. My clothes were damp from the spring, I just realize. It’s not a good fit with the freezing air. Now that I think about it, I’m not quite sure how long I’ve been sitting here. And there’s still the matter of someone calling for me. I blink and see Camilla. She stands right beside me, staring at me like she’s called out for me for ages without me hearing. Did she? I’m slightly surprised that she’s here but more than that, I’m prepared to see her sins. I look at her, expecting to see a vision of her crimes or regrets. But there’s nothing. \<<if $dummy is true>> “Don’t you regret anything?” I ask, confused by the lack of vision. “Aren’t your hands filled with the blood of your enemies or that of the innocent?” “What the hell are you talking about?” she asks with a deeply annoyed frown on her face. However, there’s also traces of worry. For my mental health, probably. This would be quaint to witness if I wasn’t so confused by the visions, how they appear so randomly and then lay dormant. Did Floyd tell her something? Did he share his worries with her? I rub my face and shake my head. “Nothing.” Why did I say anything? I should rest and gather my thoughts so I stop talking. \<<else>> This time, I will keep my mouth shut. But still, I find the lack of visions confusing. I stare at her hands with more intensity, stare holes into her modest dress to see if there’s something I’m missing. There must be. I don’t believe for a moment that Camilla has no regrets nor sins. “What are you staring at?” she asks with an annoyed frown. “Ah, nothing.” “You’re growing ever weirder, druid.” “Hey!” I say and look around to see if anyone’s listening. There’s no one around. <</if>>\ [["Why are you here?" I ask to change the subject.|c6_q_whycamilla?]]

“Darling?” I hear someone’s gentle voice next to me. And a warm hand against my skin, making me realize that I’m quite cold. I’m freezing, in fact. My damp clothes combined with the freezing air is not a good fit. Anyway, isn’t there someone right now? Next to me? I blink and see Tinsae’s extremely worried face looking at me. When I finally see her, her frigid stance relaxes a little. But that’s not what I’m focusing on. I try to see her sins, her regrets. There’s no trace of them on her skin or the rest of her body. \<<if $dummy is true>> “Don’t you have any sins? Any regrets? Why can’t I see them?” I ask, only half-aware that I’m speaking out loud. Tinsae blinks rapidly, clearly trying to make sense of my ramblings. For they indeed sound like ramblings, I just realize it. “Do you need to come to my place, dear? I can give you some tea, get you a new bath…” “I… I’m fine. Thank you.” She doesn’t believe me. Just then I even realize to wonder what she’s doing here in the first place. \<<else>> I’m not saying a thing. However, I am looking at her, searching for anything unfamiliar. Floyd’s vision was violent and grotesque, one would think that I wouldn’t have to search for its traces like this. Does this mean that there are no regrets in her life or that the powers work irregularly? “Dear,” she says again, and only now I realize that I’ve been sitting here for a good while, staring at her without actually seeing her, wanting to see something else entirely. I clear my throat and look away. “Sorry. My mind is elsewhere.” “Do you need to come to my place, dear? I can give you some tea, get you a new bath…” “I… I’m fine. Thank you.” She doesn’t believe me. Just then I even realize to wonder what she’s doing here in the first place. <</if>>\ “May I?” she asks and sits beside me on the tomb. I give her some room. Her proximity is welcome, especially since she radiates such warmth. She gives me a careful look. “I was looking for you. And I believe Marcus was looking for you, too. I saw your friend. But even before that I felt that something was… wrong.” She pauses, and the tightness on her face still remains. She gives me a disarming, caring smile. “Do you need warmth, dear? We could both fit underneath my cloak.” I nod. I can't really afford to refuse warmth right now. Not when I can't feel my fingers anymore. She welcomes me underneath her cloak. Her scent embraces me with her warmth. Floral, spices, incense, and the scent of that bitter liquid she likes to drink. It’s nice. Comforting. She doesn’t say anything. She doesn’t ask where I was, doesn’t poke me with questions. She respects my privacy. It’s nice. It’s like she’s giving me the option to tell her if I want to. Tell her that I accepted the gift from my gods? That their power now resides within me? [[Tell her.|c6_q_telltinsae]] [[No. She shouldn't know.|c6_q_tinsaemarcus]]

\<<set $tinsae_truth_blessing to true>> “The Twins spoke to me,” I say. Tinsae gasps in surprise. Her face erupts into a wide smile. “Darling, that’s great news!” And I can’t help but to smile back at her. It is great news. The best I’ve had in months. “What did they say?” she asks, unable to hold her curiosity at bay. “They gave me a gift.” She nods, encouraging me to continue. There’s no trace of doubt, of hostility. Just intrigue and joy over my joy. “I can see things now. About people. About their regrets, about their sins. I already saw Floyd’s. It was…” I frown at the memory. “Unsettling.” Tinsae takes my hand, offering me some comfort. She understands. “How so?” “I can’t control it. And it shows up in weird ways. Like… In unsettling ways. But I can deal with it,” I say with determination. “Of course you can,” she says with a smile. “The power you speak of…,” she starts, her gaze inspecting me with intrigue. “It sounds interesting. Revealing.” “I will let you know when I see it next time.” “Please do, darling. But…” She frowns. “Was that the reason you were almost frozen to death in the snow?” “I wasn’t frozen to… Well.” If she hadn’t found me, maybe. “I think it’s to blame, yes. But…” I shrug. “It’s worth it.” She gives me a reassuring smile. But there’s a layer of worry in her gaze. [[Continue|c6_q_tinsaemarcus]]

Besides, it’s a good question. I didn’t expect to see her. “Your soldier friend told me where to find you.” Floyd must’ve been feeling extremely courageous to approach the wife of the Legate. “Wait… So you were looking for me?” “Your idiot Centurion was. Not me.” “But why are you–” “Shut up.” “Alright,” I say, partly to disobey her command. Annoyance flares up on her face but she remains silent. Silence lingers. “Are you alright?” she finally asks. The question feels out of place from her lips. [["I'm not." Tell her about Quinn.|c6_q_truthcamilla]] [["I'm not." Tell her about the blessing.]]

\<<set $camilla_truth_quinn to true>> “I just learned that my friend has committed a mass homicide.” Among other things. The fact that I’m seeing things that aren’t there is not a good place to start. But all Camilla does is give me a nod. I wait for her to react. But she gives me nothing else. “I mean Quinn?” I specify, if that was the part that was lost on her. “$q_He murdered people before coming here.” “I see.” “Aren’t you surprised?” “Listen, your friend looks like $q_he’d cook $q_his enemies’ testicles for breakfast. I’m not surprised. And you Northerners are known for your brutality.” I frown. “Those are nothing but rumors. This is not normal for us.” “I see.” “So you thought that I’m a human-sacrificing barbarian?” “When I heard that you’re a druid, yes. I expected as much.” “And you’re still here?” “Killers are useful.” [["I'm not a killer!"|c6_q_notkiller]] [["How practical of you."|c6_q_practical]]

\<<set $camilla_truth_blessing to true>> She already probably thinks I’m losing it, might as well throw logs into the fire. “My gods spoke directly to me for the first time in my life. Before, I’ve only heard whispers, now they spoke to me as if standing right next to me.” Camilla frowns. “Not only that,” I continue. “I also received a blessing from them, one that allows me to see the deepest regrets of others.” Camilla opens her mouth but doesn’t say anything. “Indeed,” I say with a nod. “But the blessing proves tricky, for I can’t control it, nor can I interpret the visions properly.” Finally, when I stop talking, silence hangs like a heavy, freezing blanket between us. Camilla sits down next to me. She looks at me with an unreadable expression. Then, she says, “You’ve finally lost it.” “I’m speaking the truth.” She gives me a thoughtful frown. Then, she shakes her head. “Fine. Let’s say you’re not lying. Do you see anything now?” I shake my head. “It doesn’t seem to work like that.” “Well, let me know when you start seeing things.” I nod. At least she seems like she believes me. Maybe. [[Continue|c6_q_idiotcenturion]]

$q_He tilts $q_his head. “And leave you?” “You’re sick. Maybe you could–” “Could what? Find a healer? You know this can’t be healed through mortal means.” \<<if $determined is true>> “Maybe I would work better alone,” I say in a stern voice. Maybe it would make $q_him leave. Reminding $q_him what’s at stake. “Better? I’ve saved your hide already multiple times. Just like you keep saving me.” I frown. \<<else>> I can’t leave without knowing what happened to Eoganan and Eithne. I need to find them. But maybe then I could join $q_him. “Maybe you–” “No.” $q_He looks at me with stubborness. <</if>>\ “I’m not going anywhere. You know this.” [[Continue|c6_q_nakedbody]]

$q_He sighs. “You know we can’t.” “But–” “The little ones are still out there. And we have people to kill.” \<<if $determined is true>> I sigh. “Yes. I know. But…” “No buts.” \<<else>> $q_He’s right about the little ones. I can’t leave without them. “But when they’re found…” “We can talk about it later, alright? We still don’t even know where they are.” I grimace at $q_his words, knowing them too well to be true. <</if>>\ “Besides, what difference would it make to die at home or here?” $q_He grins. I grit my teeth. Nothing, I suppose. [[Continue|c6_q_nakedbody]]

$q_He won’t be persuaded to leave, that much is clear. I would be wasting my time if I tried to appeal to $q_him in that regard. $q_He smiles, as if trying to appear reassuring. It doesn’t quite land. “Don’t worry about a thing. I’ll be kicking around as long as I need to.” That does little to reassure me, indeed. [[Continue|c6_q_nakedbody]]

Just now, $q_he realizes to look at $q_his naked body. “Right. I’m quite naked.” $q_He gives me a cheeky grin but all I can do is to look at $q_his wounded leg. “What happened to your leg?” I ask. “I fell off a tree. It looks worse than it is,” $q_he quickly tries to dismiss my worries. $q_His words left me unconvinced. I frown at the sight of the wound. The skin circling the wound is screaming red. “It’s infected.” “Really? Too bad.” “Too–? You could die because of that.” “Huh. How strange. It’s just a little wound.” “This isn’t funny, Quinn. I–” I groan at $q_his lightheartedness. $q_He really doesn’t care about $q_his health. It’s tiring and concerning. \<<if $quinn_gender is "man">> [[Tend to him.|c6_q_tend]] [[No. He's an adult, he can take care of himself.|c6_q_takecare]] [[I realize that I’m afraid of him. I can’t touch him.|c6_q_canttouch]] \<<else>> [[Tend to her.|c6_q_tend]] [[No. She's an adult, she can take care of herself.|c6_q_takecare]] [[I realize that I’m afraid of her. I can’t touch her.|c6_q_canttouch]] <</if>>

\<<set $quinn_bandage to true>> Gritting my teeth, I fetch my first aid pack filled with the necessary herbs. “I will bandage it,” I say and my throat it tight. This isn’t what I’m here for but I can’t just ignore $q_his wound. $q_He could die. “You don’t need to do that–” “Quinn, shut it.” $q_He purses $q_his lips and sits down on a rock to wait for me. I take my first aid pack filled with the necessary herbs to tend to $q_him. I take off my boots and dip into the water. \<<if $quinn_angry is true>> $q_He flinces when I approach $q_him in anger. “What are you–” Without a word, I splash water onto the wound, spread some salve onto it, and wrap it up. My touch is not gentle and $q_he winces pathetically when I tend to $q_him. “You’re so rough,” $q_he complains. “You deserve it for not taking care of yourself.” $q_He gives me a playful grin. “Whatever you say.” $q_His grin only makes me groan in frustration. I have to halt my hand so I don’t hurt $q_him further. \<<else>> I try my best to be gentle despite being annoyed with $q_he disregard when it comes to $q_his health. “You’re so nice,” $q_he says with a smile when I splash water on the wound and spread salve into it. I sigh at $q_his compliment. “Don’t be so grumpy. You just gave me a couple of days more to live.” “That’s not even half as funny as you think it is.” “Sorry." <</if>>\ Finally, it’s done, and I retreat back to the other edge of the pool, sitting on the warm stone. This isn’t why I’m here. It’s time to have the talk. [["Do you know why I'm here?"|c6_q_whyimhere]]

\<<set $quinn_bandage to true>> I cross my arms in defiance. “Well, since you’re so nonchalant about it, I’m sure it’ll be fine.” “Right? Who cares anyway.” I care. Despite everything, I still care. And it annoys me to no end that $q_he doesn’t care. $q_He will die if the wound is not treated. And $q_he won’t do it $q_himself. With a loud, annoyed groan, I take my first aid pack filled with the necessary herbs to tend to $q_him. I take off my boots and dip into the water. $q_He flinces when I approach $q_him in anger. “What are you–” Without a word, I splash water onto the wound, spread some salve onto it, and wrap it up. My touch is not gentle and $q_he winces pathetically when I tend to $q_him. “You’re so rough,” $q_he complains. “You deserve it for not taking care of yourself.” $q_He gives me a playful grin. “Whatever you say.” $q_His grin only makes me groan in frustration. I have to halt my hand so I don’t hurt $q_him further. Finally, it’s done, and I retreat back to the other edge of the pool, sitting on the warm stone. This isn’t why I’m here. It’s time to have the talk. [["Do you know why I'm here?"|c6_q_whyimhere]]

Out of habit, I’m about to enter the spring and tend to $q_him, just like I always did when we were younger. We took care of each other, that’s how it was supposed to be. But I realize that I can’t do that. I frown at my feelings. I came here to confront $q_him for what $q_he’s done. Killing all those people like it was nothing. “What’s wrong?” $q_he asks, but $q_he must know. I shake my head and take a step back. I can’t tend to $q_him. I can’t touch $q_him. “I fear you,” I confess. I fear what this means. I fear for– “You fear me?” he asks. “I… No. Please don’t.” $q_He takes a step towards me and I take a step back. Seeing it halts $q_his step. The realization that I truly fear $q_him hits $q_him like a hammer. $q_He looks like a child lost in the woods. Lost and forgotten. “You… Do. Fear me.” $q_He takes several steps back, almost falling down in the water, walking all the way to the other edge of the spring. “You fear the blood in my hands. You fear my broken mind. You fear–” $q_He looks at me with fresh tears gathering into $q_his eyes. “It wasn’t supposed to go like this. I’m sorry.” [[Step into the pool.|c6_q_intothepool]] [[Stay put.|c6_q_stayput]]

\<<if $quinn_first_pick is true>> “You wanted to bathe,” $q_he says. “That ship sailed ages ago,” I say accusingly. “You weren’t here when I needed you.” “Right,” $q_he rubs the back of $q_his neck and looks away. “I had to be elsewhere.” “And you didn’t think to tell me?” “I was in a hurry.” Still, $q_he refuses to look at me. “There was someone chasing me and I didn’t want to put you in danger.” “Someone… What?” “The same things that came after me during Samhain. They were here, looking for me.” $q_His voice betrays no lie but I can’t be certain of half-truths. “Who are they?” “It’s not important.” “How could it not–” I let out an irritated groan. These things wanted Quinn dead, that much is for certain. If they can roam the land even outside of Samhain and the thinned veil between our worlds, the situation is more dangerous than I knew. And still, Quinn acts like it’s of no importance. “Can this thing get wet?” $q_he asks, pointing at the wrappings on $q_his thigh. “No. Your bath is over,” I say with a frown. $q_He’s not changing the subject. “You’re so forceful–” $q_he starts to complain but I interrupt $q_him. “Tell me who they are. Who hunt you?” $q_He bites down on $q_his lip. “What does it matter? They want to kill me. Who doesn’t?” “Quinn, you’re getting on my nerves.” “Sorry,” $q_he says with a cheeky shrug. I rub my face and sigh. $q_He’s not going to give me the truth willingly. I will have to find this out by myself. “That’s not even the only thing I’m here for,” I say, more to myself than to $q_him. This is a mess of things. “Right. You saw something. About what happened.” “I know what you did.” \<<else>> “You know what I know,” I say in a low, accusing voice. “I think I do, yes. You found out about something.” “About you killing all those people.” “Ah. Right.” I take a deep, stabilizing breath. <</if>>\ [["Why didn't you tell me?"|c6_q_why??]] [["I don't care about that. I just don't like secrets."|c6_q_dontlikesecrets]]

$q_He doesn’t look at me. $q_He plays with the water, sitting on a rock like a beaten up fairy. Finally, $q_he asks, “About those who died for the cause?” “The cause? You killed all those people. They were people, not means to a–” $q_He frowns in confusion. “Didn’t you know about this already?” “Why would I ask if I did? They weren’t my memories, anyway. They were yours, I wasn’t there.” “Right. Right. I forgot.” “You forgot it?” “I barely remember anything about that night. I hunted for days, I was exhausted.” “You hunted. Those people. You hunted people like they were nothing but a–” “They didn’t come willingly, no.” $q_His words make the blood in my veins run cold. A lump of something hard and disgusting creeps into my throat. $q_He’s talking about this like it’s nothing. “So, you’re saying you don’t remember. Don’t you dare and flee from your responsibility.” “Of course not. What’s done is done. But I can’t quite remember what happened. It’s a blur.” \<<if $manipulated is true>> “You can’t remember things, either?” “What do you mean? Oh! Your little amnesia. Yes. Something like that.” “Little amnesia? I’ve lost months of my life.” “Huh.” The frown deepens on $q_his sunken features. “Hopefully it’ll pass.” <</if>>\ “Is that why you stayed behind? To kill all those people?” “Yes,” $q_he states it without emotion. [["Were they Romans?" Would it make it better?|c6_q_romans?]] [[Flinch at the emotionless tone.|c6_q_flinch]]

\<<set $$psycho to true>> $q_He opens $q_his mouth in confusion. “You… Don’t care?” “Did you expect me to? Weren’t they Romans?” “I… Yes.” $q_He sighs in relief. “I didn’t think you’d be so pragmatic about this.” “I don’t like lies, Quinn.” “Right, of course. Well, it wasn’t a lie, exactly. You didn’t ask about the ritual.” I frown. “I suppose I could’ve shared that information even without you asking first,” $q_he admits. Then, $q_he falls silent. "I don't know why I was so concerned. Of course you would understand, that’s why I love you.” “You–” “I love everything about you!” $q_he all but shouts and I flinch at the almost manic sound. “You are my light in the darkness.” I just don’t understand why you had to slit all of their throats.” I almost playfully interrupt $q_his confession of love to judge $q_his methods. “Why didn’t you use a wickerman? Why didn’t you burn them?” $q_His brows raise at my words. $q_He opens $q_his mouth as if to say something, but then, $q_he bursts out laughing. “Oh, to be scolded by a professional!” “I’m just saying that there was a better way.” “I’m sorry, a wickerman would’ve been a pain to build alone.” “Right, of course.” “I didn’t have the resources, I had to make due with what I had. And, to be honest, the thought of burning someone alive is a… I…” $q_He shifts uncomfortably. “You felt bad for them?” “Don’t sound so surprised.” $q_He pouts. “It’s just a nasty way to go, alright?” $q_He creeps closer, wearing only a small smile on $q_his face. “But if you open someone’s neck right about here,” $q_he says and puts $q_his finger on my neck on my pulse. “They’re gone in a few heartbeats.” $q_His breath caresses the skin of my cheek and $q_his finger lingers. “That’s how it should be. Quick and painless.” “To bleed out is probably not painless.” $q_He grimaces at the notion. “No, but it’s quick. Look, I try my best.” \<<if $herbalist is true>> “I can show you herbs that will kill your target in a few heartbeats. Almost painless. If that’s what you want.” “Thank you!” $q_He smiles brightly. “You are incredible. Your knowledge of the herbs is…” $q_He smiles, and the sight of it is almost suggestive. “Incredible.” \<<else>> “If you stab here,” I say while moving $q_his finger to an even better spot on my neck, “they will die even quicker.” $q_His face brightens up with wonder. “I didn’t even realize. You are incredible. Your knowledge of anatomy is…” $q_He smiles, and the sight of it is almost suggestive. “Incredible.” <</if>>\ $q_He studies my face with $q_his head tilting slightly. $q_He looks at my lips. “Do you still want me to kiss you?” $q_he asks. [[Shake my head and retreat.|c6_q_retreat]] [["Yes."|c6_q_yesbutshouldn't]] \<<if $quinn_gender is "man">> [[Kiss him before he can.|c6_q_kissquinn]] <<elseif $quinn_gender is "woman">> [[Kiss her before she can.|c6_q_kissquinn]] <</if>>

Then, when I flinch at the emotionless tone, $q_he gives me a small frown. “Are you alright?” $q_he asks. “How can you ask that? How can you treat people’s lives like it means nothing to you and ask me why I don’t approve?” “I…” $q_He searches for the right words. “I am unsure why you would care about those people. Most of them were Romans.” “Most of them?” “Some of them were traveling merchants, I didn’t ask where they were from. I didn’t have time to be picky.” //had to hunt had to come for you// The words in my head make me grimace. $q_He gives me an expecting look. $q_He’s waiting for my judgment. “If it helps, I’m sorry?” $q_he says but I’m not sure if I believe $q_him. This is all too much. I take a deep breath and try to make sense of my emotions. $q_He did it for the Twins. $q_He did it to help me. Does it matter? [["I understand you did what you had to."]] [["I fear you."]] [["You're a monster."|You're a monster]]

“Yes, of course.” $q_He pauses, hesitates. “I mean… Most of them. I didn’t ask,” $q_he admits. “How did you catch them?” $q_He sighs and looks away. “Why are you asking me these questions?” I hesitate. I’m not sure. Does it help me to understand $q_him? Do the details matter when the deed is so grotesque? $q_He gives me an expecting look. $q_He’s waiting for my judgment. $q_He did it for the Twins. $q_He did it to help me. Does it matter? [["I understand you did what you had to."]] [["I fear you."]] [["You're a monster."|You're a monster]]

“Remember when the Romans found the mothers and the little ones in their hideouts? The screams? The begging, the pleading, the shrieks of–” “Stop it.” But $q_he doesn’t. “That’s who Romans are. Murderers. Rapists. Slavers. All of that and more. I wonder how many screaming, unarmed women and men were violently ravaged and butchered during the invasion?” $q_His gaze hardens as disgust seeps in. “Even chil–” \<<if $fire is true>> “Stop it!” I roar, blocking my ears from hearing. I don’t want to think about it. I’m not going back there, I’m not– \<<elseif $earth is true>> “Stop it,” I command $q_him. “I know what happened.” I was there. I saw it. “I don’t want to… think about it.” I clench my jaw too tightly. It hurts. \<<elseif $air is true>> “Stop it,” I say, my breathing quickening. The air feels thinner. I don’t want to go there. I don’t want to be here. I need to think of something else entirely. I need to go elsewhere. What about– \<<elseif $water is true>> “Stop it!” I shout, blocking my ears with tears gathering in my eyes. “Please, just stop it,” I beg. I don’t want to go back there. I don’t– <</if>> Quinn continues in an emotionless tone. “Their heads should be severed. Every one of them. And thrown into the lair of pismires.” How they would devour their succulent oculi. I start violently rubbing my face, trying to get rid of the mental images. The screams. Even when I shielded my ears, I could still hear them. They pierced the flesh of my hands, they seeped in through the bones, reminding me how revoltingly lucky I am that I’m safe and they’re there being devoured by the evil of humanity. How I should be there, I should be one of the men and women in white robes, lying ravaged on the moss floor of the grove, groaning with their last breath for the Twins to come and save them. The smell of burning flesh creeped through the linen. I couldn’t keep it out. I should– [[A lone tear falls down my cheek.|c6_q_lonetear]]

Quinn looks at it falling on my lips. There are no tears in $q_his eyes. Only malice. “Why me?” I ask, coarsely, silently. Why did I survive? Why should I be the one to avenge what happened to them? Quinn takes my hand in $q_his. The hand that is more powerful than it looks like. From the gentle hands of the caregiver they’re transformed into the hands of a murderer. “Why do you need me?” I ask. ‘Please kill without me,’ I want to say. “I’m here for you,” $q_he says in a solemn tone. $q_He keeps my trembling hands stable. Then, $q_he raises it to $q_his dry lips and a small, chaste kiss on my knuckle. “I need you. Just as you need me.” There is no why. There is only the certain fact that we need each other. We will leave here together or die. “What is the plan?” I ask tiredly. “We will patiently wait for the Emperor, my dear friend. Everything will seem more clear once he’s here.” “How do you know he’s going to come?” “I know. So does Camilla. No one else does.” “Are we going to kill the Emperor, too?” I ask. “You’ll need to trust me.” I take a shaky breath, not ready to embrace my destiny in such a way. There is sense in Quinn’s words but how could I do anything? I’m not sure if I even want to. I never was. Quinn’s words are soft and understanding as $q_he says, “Take your time to think. There’s still time.” “Time for me to see your way?” “Time for you to decide what’s right. For us and for the tribe. For the good of us all who are fucked by Romans.” I squeeze my eyes shut. “Fine.” [["Great!"|c6_q_coughingfit]]

$q_He grins playfully. “How close? Just one massacre away?” I frown at the ill-timed joke. “Quinn, I’m not ready for those kinds of jokes.” “Right, naturally. I sometimes forget that… I, uh. Sorry.” [[Continue|"I think something broke in me."]]

Maybe $q_he did. I don’t know what to say. The lighthearted jabs came from my spine, from my fond childhood memories with $q_him. But I’m not sure if I feel it right now. $q_He gives me a hesitant smile. “I’m sorry.” [[Continue|"I think something broke in me."]]

But there is something nagging at me, tugging at my heart. I kissed Quinn. But is $q_he the only one I’m thinking about now? <<if $marcus_bath is true>> [[No... I find myself thinking about Marcus.]] <<elseif $niall_bath is true>> [[No... I find myself thinking about Niall.]] <<elseif $tinsae_bath is true>> [[No... I find myself thinking about Tinsae.]] <<elseif $camilla_bath is true>> [[No... I find myself thinking about Camilla.]] <</if>> [[Yes.|c6_q_quinnsolo]]

Marcus’s stupid face comes to mind. \<<if $marcus_killer is true>> And it just makes me want to punch that grin out of existence. “You’re thinking about him, huh? Your fists are shaking.” “Oh?” I look at my hands only to find that $q_he spoke the truth. I stretch my fingers with a grimace. “I hate him. I wish I could just…” “I know, I know. I feel the same when I see you with him.” $q_He strokes my back with a small smile. “You’re bearing it for the both of us. You’re strong.” “How long?” I ask. How long do I have to bear? “He has an important part to play in our ploys, too, you know.” “How so?” “Everything will be revealed in time.” “I don’t like it when you talk like that.” “Like I know everything?” I groan. “Exactly.” “Hehe.” $q_He purses $q_his lips. “Just don’t overdo it, alright? You’re already testing your limits with him, seeing what makes him snap.” “I’ll be fine.” Quinn nods, fully convinced, fully trusting me. Or maybe trusting in $q_his own abilities to save me if I screw up. “I love that about you.” “Hm?” “The bloodlust. The slight unhingedness.” I frown at the compliment and almost say something in protest, but $q_his burning gaze on me makes me fall silent. $q_He looks at me like I’m all $q_he sees. “You are admirable,” $q_he mutters. “Did you just realize it?” $q_He nods and it’s unclear if $q_he realizes that the fact is slightly insulting. Still, I take the compliment. [[Continue|c6_q_sitlikethatforawhile]] \<<else>> Why? Why would I think about him? [[Because I’m spending so much time with him. But I still want to get my revenge.]] [[...I don't know.|c6_q_dontknowaboutmarcus]] <</if>>\

Niall’s smiling face comes to mind. His features ever changing, from happiness to worry, from joy to fear. To think that someone shows their emotions in such a fluid way, as naturally as the ocean waves. Quinn gives me a judging side glance. “I didn’t want to say anything but… The oaf? Really?” \<<if $niall_user is true>> [[“I’m just using him.” I wonder if it's just that…|c6_q_hesitantnialluser]] [["I'm just using him."|c6_q_nialluser]] \<<else>> [["Don't call him names."|c6_q_niallnames]] [["He might be slow, yes. But at least he's nice to look at.|c6_q_niallnicetolookat]] [[Remain silent.|c6_q_silentniall]] <</if>>\

Tinsae’s gentle face comes to mind. Quinn knows that I went to her bath. Which could potentially be quite bad, since $q_he seems to hate her guts. $q_He looks at me with piercing eyes. “The witch is trying to drive us apart, you know that, don’t you?” $q_he asks with $q_his voice low. And I can’t exactly deny it. Tinsae called Quinn a ‘spawn of evil’. I doubt she’d like it if she found out about Quinn and I. That despite everything, I’m here kissing $q_him. [[That's none of her business.|c6_q_noneherbusiness]] [["I don't want to think about that right now."|c6_q_nothink]] [[I find something beautiful in her goodness.|c6_q_goodness]] [["Maybe she'd like to join the fun with us," I joke.|c6_q_tinsaejoin]]

Camilla’s frowning face comes to mind. Along with the gaze with the power to freeze me over. Her cruel words cut me every time we meet. But still, I think about her. \<<if $camilla_user is true>> Naturally, I think about her. I need her in order to get closer to the people responsible for what happened. She’s just a natural extension of that. Right? [[Right...?|c6_q_right?]] [[Right. That's how it is and it hasn't changed.|c6_q_camillaright]] \<<elseif (($camilla_user isnot true) and ($dummy is true))>> I think that, deep in her heart, she’s a good person. [[I smile and nod to myself.|c6_q_smilenod]] \<<else>> She’s mean, yes, but maybe that’s just the front she puts up. [[“Oh no,” Quinn says.|c6_q_ohno]] <</if>>\

\<<set $quinn_soloroute to true>> I might have had to share a bath with someone else but that doesn’t mean I think about them when I’m with Quinn. No. It’s just out of necessity. Quinn gives me a puzzled frown. “You’re weird.” “What?” $q_He shakes $q_his head. “Never mind that. I still love you.” I smile. It feels good to hear that. Despite everything, we’re in this together. We will surpass every obstacle together. “You’re cute,” $q_he says and shoves me in my side with $q_his elbow. “Cute and weird.” “Look who’s talking.” “I know! We’re a duo of freaks.” [[Continue|c6_q_sitlikethatforawhile]]

\<<set $niall_user to true>> Quinn sighs in relief. “Thank the gods. I thought you a fool.” “Hey!” “But I think that you’re right about using him instead of Marcus. You will hurt Marcus more through his brother.” “Right?” I smile. $q_He gets it. I knew $q_he would. “You’re so clever,” $q_he says with a smile. Then, $q_he pecks another kiss on my nose. [[Continue|c6_q_sitlikethatforawhile]]

\<<set $hesitating_niall_user to true>> I frown at the nagging feeling. I should feel more determined. But something feels wrong about me saying that. Quinn reads me infuriatingly easily. $q_He pouts. “You’re not fooling anyone. You have feelings for the oaf.” “No. I don’t. Stop saying that.” Quinn sticks $q_his tongue out at me. “I don’t care, you know. Use him all you want. Besides, he’s easy on the eyes even if his head is empty. It has an appeal, sure.” “Don’t call his head empty.” “Fine, I’ll stop bullying your beef of a boyfriend.” “He’s not my– Gods, Quinn, stop talking.” “Hehe.” [[Continue|c6_q_sitlikethatforawhile]]

$q_He scoffs before giving me a grin. “I get it, alright? He’s easy on the eyes and seems like he’s good at obeying commands.” “I– What?” $q_He shrugs. “I’m complimenting you. Besides, your chances at getting back at Marcus are better through his brother.” “Oh. Right.” [[Continue|c6_q_sitlikethatforawhile]]

I’m not sure what to say. The whole situation is quite bizarre. Quinn shoves me with $q_his elbow. “I get it, alright? He’s easy on the eyes and seems like he’s good at obeying commands.” I raise my brows at $q_him. “Besides, your chances at getting back at Marcus are better through his brother.” “Hm.” “‘Hm’ indeed!” [[Continue|c6_q_sitlikethatforawhile]]

Quinn nods. “I wholeheartedly agree with you, my friend. He’s easy on the eyes and seems like he’s good at obeying commands.” “Right?” It’s nice to agree on something. “Besides, your chances at getting back at Marcus are better through his brother.” “Oh. Right.” [[Continue|c6_q_sitlikethatforawhile]]

Of course our bath didn’t change my mind about that. That would be ridiculous. Absolutely ridiculous. Especially because that woman is probably planning on killing me. One way or another, she will try to kill me. Of that, I’m sure. But then, why does my heart ache a little when I think about that? I frown at the foolish thoughts. She would call me an idiot and I’d be loath to agree with her. When I look at Quinn, I realize $q_he’s been staring at me for a good while. Finally, $q_he says with a smile, “I like Camilla!” “Oh. Well, I think I like her, too.” “She looks like she wouldn’t hesitate to lash my throat open.” $q_He smiles. “Right. She does have that look.” “Dreamy, isn’t it?” [[Continue|c6_q_sitlikethatforawhile]]

Why would it change? She’s clearly prepared to kill me. I need to keep my wits about with her. Quinn smiles. “You’re so clever and scheming, you go well together.” “With Camilla?” “Why, of course. She looks like she wouldn’t hesitate to lash my throat open.” “Right. She does have that look.” “Dreamy, isn’t it?” [[Continue|c6_q_sitlikethatforawhile]]

\<<if $$psycho is true>> But it’s nice. Comfortable. Quinn gives me a small smile. “Do you want to make them a shrine or something?” “The victims?” $q_He nods. $q_He tries to make me feel better, even if it makes me feel a little wrong that I didn’t offer the idea first. “I don’t think it’s necessary,” I say in a quiet voice. “They’re gone already.” $q_He sighs in relief. “Good. I mean… I would’ve done it for you.” “Thank you for the thought.” \<<else>> We sit like that for a while. Next to each other, with $q_him still naked and my clothes damp by the steam and $q_his wet skin. But it’s nice. Comfortable. A moment of peace. However, I don’t know if I’ve forgiven $q_him. I just called $q_him a monster, even if I’m not sure if I meant it. Besides, I don’t know if it’s my place to forgive $q_him in the first place. $q_He didn’t kill my family nor loved ones. I don’t know what else to do, how to make things right. “Should we build a shrine to those who you murdered?” I ask, still almost cringing at the word ‘murder’. But it is what it was. I should use the proper terms, that’s the least I owe to the victims. Even if I didn’t do it, I still feel responsible. “Sure,” $q_he says, $q_his voice quiet and I can almost sense a layer of remorse in there somewhere. “You should build it. And try to get their forgiveness.” “I…” $q_He shifts uncomfortably. “If that’s what you want.” “It is. But it also should be what you want.” $q_He nods slowly, taking in my words. Finally, $q_he says, “I think that would be good.” “Did you know their names?” “No.” I sigh. The conversation topic is almost absurd. “We’ll figure out something.” $q_He gives me a bright smile. “Thank you.” <</if>> [[Continue|c6_q_coughingfit]]

I think that, deep in her heart, she’s a good person. I smile and nod to myself. When I raise my gaze to look at Quinn, $q_he gives me a wide smile. “You’re so adorable.” “What?” “You think she really likes you.” “What?” I frown. How did $q_he know? I mean, no, that’s wrong. I mean–” “You’re panicking and your cheeks are flushed.” $q_He gushes with a smile. “You’re so cute!” $q_He says and pinches my cheek. “Stop teasing me, Quinn. I don’t think so. She’s really mean.” “Maybe that’s just the front she puts up, huh? Have you thought about that?” Maybe. Maybe it would make sense. Quinn grins. “You’ve got it so bad for her!” $q_He starts laughing. \<<if $quinn_gender is "man">> [[Shove him into the water.|c6_q_shove]] [[Wait for him to have his fun in silence.|c6_q_wait]] \<<else>> [[Shove her into the water.|c6_q_shove]] [[Wait for her to have her fun in silence.|c6_q_wait]] <</if>>

\<<set $tinsae_hardened to true>> I harden my mind. She’s welcome to dislike Quinn. She and I are not in a relationship. Besides, she will leave soon enough. \<<if $tinsae_hurt is true>> Let’s just pretend that the thought doesn’t make me slightly ill. <</if>>\ Quinn looks at me. “She’s leaving soon, anyway.” I nod. “Good!” $q_He smiles widely. “That takes care of it.” [[Continue|c6_q_sitlikethatforawhile]]

I evade $q_his penetrating gaze. I’m not ready to deal with this kind of drama right now. Quinn smirks. “You’ll just think about her soft hips, huh?” “Quinn.” “But they are soft, right? I wouldn’t mind being squashed by those thighs–” “Quinn!” “Sorry, sorry!” “How do you even know about her thighs? You haven’t seen her naked, have you?” “I’m just guessing since her ass looks health–” “Why did I ask? Stop talking.” "Sorry." $q_He grins. $q_He's not sorry. [[Continue|c6_q_sitlikethatforawhile]]

Something I know is lacking in my heart. \<<if $manipulated is true>> My heart is filled with darkness that I can’t quite place. It’s as if it doesn’t belong there but it’s still there, a permanent part of me. Like a scar that never healed right. \<<else>> I want to kill and maim, she wants to save and nurture. There’s something beautiful about that. <</if>>\ Could she save me? Would I want that? I just realize that Quinn is looking at me with a deep frown on $q_his face. “Dear gods, you have it bad for the witch.” “No, I just–” “Oh, for the love of Twins, let’s hope she won’t kill me in my sleep. It’ll be your fault. Yours and your mommy issues.” “My… What?!” “I said what I said.” “Do you want me to leave and leave you here alone? Is that it?” “Oh! No.” “That might happen if you’re acting like an ass.” “Sorry. Didn’t think that far.” “You never do.” [[Continue|c6_q_sitlikethatforawhile]]

A joke to ease the tension. But it doesn’t land on Quinn, of course it doesn’t. The dislike is mutual with them. As such, Quinn gives me a deep frown. “I wouldn’t touch that harp with a ten foot pole.” “Stop calling her names.” I sigh. $q_He purses $q_his lips. “I can’t promise that. She must’ve called me something even worse.” Again, I can’t really deny that. $q_He pouts. “Why did you even pick her? There was the perfectly usable Camilla right there.” “Usable? Have you seen her?” “Yes. And she’s prone to manipulation, you just need to know which buttons to press.” “Let’s just change the subject, alright?” “Fine.” [[Continue|c6_q_sitlikethatforawhile]]

“What?” “You think she’s a good person deep down.” “What? No.” Don’t I? “It’s all over your face.” \<<if (($fire is true) or ($water is true))>> I touch my face, cursing my easily readable expressions. “I think you’re so cute,” $q_he says. “Shut it.” “You like her and it’s cute.” “Quinn, stop that.” $q_He laughs. \<<elseif (($air is true) or ($earth is true))>> I frown. “You can’t see anything on my face and you know it.” “You’re right, you’re a stone face. But the twinkle in your eye…” $q_He points at my eye, as if seeing the said twinkle in there. “There’s no twinkle, get off me.” $q_He laughs. <</if>> [[Continue|c6_q_sitlikethatforawhile]]

In anger, I shove $q_him off $q_his stone. $q_He shrieks like a banshee when $q_he falls. $q_He wails like a wounded animal in the water. “I was just getting dry. You made my bandage wet! I’m going to die!” "Sorry," I say with a grunt and pull $q_him back up. “You’re sorry! Is that it?” “You deserved it.” $q_He scoffs. [[Continue|c6_q_sitlikethatforawhile]]

I give $q_him no reaction, just stare at $q_him in silence. Little by little, the laughing dies and finally $q_he gives me a pout. “You’re so serious. It’s not funny.” “I don’t intend to be funny.” “Boring.” $q_He crosses $q_his arms and looks elsewhere, as if to try and find something more entertaining to watch than me. [[Continue|c6_q_sitlikethatforawhile]]

\<<set $marcus_love_actor to true>> Nothing has changed in that regard. \<<if $marcus_cry is true>> Besides, the idiot made me cry. I let him get too close to me. I should be more careful. <</if>>\ “It must be hard for you,” Quinn says. “Being so close to him, act like you don’t actively want to rip his guts out.” “Something like that,” I say with a sigh. Quinn strokes my back with a small smile on $q_his face. “You’re bearing it for the both of us. You’re strong.” “How long?” I ask. How long do I have to bear? “He has an important part to play in our ploys, too, you know.” “How so?” “Everything will be revealed in time.” “I don’t like it when you talk like that.” “Like I know everything?” I groan. “Exactly.” "Hehe." [[Continue|c6_q_sitlikethatforawhile]]

I rub my face and look away from Quinn’s judging eyes. I know $q_he’s judging. I’m judging myself, too. $q_He sighs. “I can’t believe you’ve gone and fallen for the murderer.” “I haven’t, Quinn, stop talking.” “You don’t want to kill him.” “That’s not indicative of–” “You love him. You’re thinking about fucking him or–” \<<if $quinn_gender is "man">> [[Shove him into the water.|c6_q_shovemarcus]] [[Stare him into silence.|c6_q_deathstare]] \<<else>> [[Shove her into the water.|c6_q_shovemarcus]] [[Stare her into silence.|c6_q_deathstare]] <</if>>

I give $q_him the deadliest glare I can muster before $q_he can finish $q_his sentence. “Fine,” $q_he pouts. "You're no fun." "If that's your idea of fun..." "It was fun for me. Boring.” $q_He crosses $q_his arms and looks elsewhere, as if to try and find something more entertaining to watch than me. [[Continue|c6_q_sitlikethatforawhile]]

\<<if $camilla_plan is true>> She smirks. “You need to be.” “I…” Yes. I already swore that I’d help her. “But it doesn’t mean that I have to directly kill anyone.” She smiles like a feline. “So, killing people indirectly is fine? If you were an engineer, working shoddily, making an insula fall upon the heads of the tenants, killing families… That would be fine, right? Because it’s an indirect manslaughter.” “I’m really not in the mood for this right now.” I’m freezing. I’m tired. My head feels like it’s about to explode. \<<else>> She scoffs. “I figured, since you refuse to help me.” “So, I’m not useful to you.” “Evidently not, since I’m here soaked in sleet looking for you like you were a lost child.” “No one asked you to come.” “Wrong. Your desperate little friend did. He thought you’d freeze to death in the state you were in.” “Wait…” That sounds like she was already looking for me. “Don’t tell me that you were just there, ready to be asked to find me?” “Are you suggesting that I spent this morning looking for you like a fool? As if you were even somewhat important to me despite being a little shit? Dream on.” I squint my eyes at her. That definitely sounds like she was doing exactly that. “Shut it.” “I’m really not in the mood for this right now.” I’m freezing. I’m tired. My head feels like it’s about to explode. <</if>>\ "Fine," she says and looks at me expectantly. I assume she wants me to leave with her. [[Continue|c6_q_idiotcenturion]]

She shrugs. “You joked the last time I asked if you’ve killed before,” I remind her, interested to hear if she’d tell the truth now. “Do you think that I have killed?” she asks. “Yes.” She stares at me. “Did they deserve it?” I ask. I’m not sure why I ask. I doubt she’d admit it if they didn’t deserve it. She gives me a cold, expressionless gaze. Finally, she says, “You are freezing.” “Don’t change the subject.” “I already did.” I sigh. There’s no getting information out of her. As per usual. [[Continue|c6_q_idiotcenturion]]

I just now realize what she said about the ‘idiot Centurion’. So, Marcus is looking for me. The sun has already been up for a long time, from what I can see through the gray sky. I left without permission. Soldiers have been killed for less. “Is he planning on killing me?” I ask. Camilla scoffs, as if the very thought is preposterous. However, she immediately knows who I’m talking about. “He wouldn’t dare,” she says. “Why?” “Stop asking questions. You won’t be killed.” She sighs and tightens the cloak around her. “Does it mean that you’re protect–” “What did I say about questions?” I can’t help but to give her a small grin. She is protecting me. What a weird turn of events. “Don’t look at me like that,” she snaps at me. “Like what?” “Like you’re grateful.” “Should I look at you like I hate you?” “It would be preferable.” She looks at my shivering frame and sighs. “You need to leave. You’re freezing.” [["Thank you for coming. And for caring."|c6_q_thankyou]] [["Why did you come here? Why do you care?"|c6_q_why?]]

“I don’t–” she starts but halts her tongue. Instead, she sighs. “Just leave. The meat head is already angry as it is.” “Good,” I mutter. She smiles. “Indeed. I would come with you just to see his face but...” Bitterness makes her tighten her lips. “Tell him to choke on a cock if he says something nasty. Tell him I said that.” \<<if $loud_pervert is true>> “Alright, I will.” Camilla smiles almost happily. The thought of insulting Marcus through me makes her giddy and seeing it makes me almost smile. \<<elseif $shy_pervert is true>> “What? I can’t just– Why?” She shrugs. “Because it’s funny?” “I guess I could. For you.” “Thank you.” Camilla smiles almost happily. The thought of insulting Marcus through me makes her giddy and seeing it makes me almost smile. \<<elseif $clueless is true>> “Choke on a–” I repeat the sentence without a thought before realization hits me. “What? No!” Camilla snickers. “You’re cute. But fine, I’ll tell him later.” \<<elseif $not_interested is true>> “I can’t just…!” Say things like that. Camilla snickers at my face. “Fine, I’ll tell him later.” <</if>>\ “I’ll walk you for a while.” “...Thank you.” She starts walking away, clearly expecting me to follow her. As per usual. <<button[[Continue|Chapter 8]]>><</button>>

“I should’ve just left you disassociating in the snow?” “And I should just be grateful that you came here to insult me?” “Yes, you little shit,” she retorts but there’s a small smile on her face. “By all means, stay here and freeze to death. What do I care?” I nod and wait for her to leave, stomp away like an angry toddler. But she doesn’t. Instead, she says. “I can’t promise you the idiot won’t kill you if you don’t leave now.” I sigh. Of course she’d resort to threats to get me moving. “Fine.” <<button[[Continue|Chapter 8]]>><</button>>

I stop preventing the shivers from taking over my body and let Niall see me exactly as I feel. He frowns. “Gods, you’re freezing. Take my cloak.” He’s already placing the fur-trimmed cloak on my shoulders before he even has the time to finish his sentence. I’m surrounded by his scent. Floral and sweet. He gives me a small, worried smile. He’s still fawning over me. Perhaps I can’t blame him. I feel like I’ve been sitting here for ages without realizing it. Probably a side effect from the blessing. I can’t help but to be slightly concerned. “Can I…?” Niall stops my track of thought and gestures at the tomb I’m sitting on. I give him a quick nod, part of me eager to get even warmer by his proximity. After some hesitation, possibly thinking of the logistics of sitting next to me in such a tight place, he sits down, his thighs touching mine. “Sorry,” he says as he looks at the said thighs. [[Place my hand on his thigh.|c6_q_niallthigh]] [["It's fine."|c6_q_itsfine]] [[Grunt in annoyance.|c6_q_grunt]]

His eyes widen. “Of course! I should’ve offered, you look like you’re freezing.” He reprimands himself as he places the fur-trimmed cloak on my shoulders. I’m surrounded by his scent. Floral and sweet. He gives me a small, worried smile. He’s still fawning over me. Perhaps I can’t blame him. I feel like I’ve been sitting here for ages without realizing it. Probably a side effect from the blessing. I can’t help but to be slightly concerned. “Can I…?” Niall stops my track of thought and gestures at the tomb I’m sitting on. I give him a quick nod, part of me eager to get even warmer by his proximity. After some hesitation, possibly thinking of the logistics of sitting next to me in such a tight place, he sits down, his thighs touching mine. “Sorry,” he says as he looks at the said thighs. [[Place my hand on his thigh.|c6_q_niallthigh]] [["It's fine."|c6_q_itsfine]] [[Grunt in annoyance.|c6_q_grunt]]

He groans in frustration. “Gods help me, so you’d rather freeze to death than accept my help?” Apparently so. I purse my lips and look away. “Moron,” he mutters to himself. “Why are you here anyway? No one asked you here.” “Look, you idiot. If any of the other Centurions find out that you’re sneaking out without permission, I won’t be able to save you. Not this time.” His throat sounds a little tight. He clears it, trying to mask it as a regular cough. ‘Not this time’ weighs heavy in the air. He’s saved me plenty of times before. “Fine. I can walk after you.” “I don’t trust you to follow me.” “I don’t need to be led with a leash, I’m not an idiot.” “Could’ve fooled me.” I groan in frustration. \<<if $marcus_handjob is true>> “Why are you so angry anyway? We left on good terms.” He gives me a wily grin. He looks way too smug over what happened. [["I was just using you," I say in a flat tone.|c6_q_marcususing]] [[I give him a sly smile. Tease him, make him squirm.|c6_q_tease]] \<<else>> [[Continue|c6_q_marcusgift?]] <</if>>\

But before I can properly protest, he’s already placing the cloak on my shoulders. I frown at the sensation. “I didn’t consent–” “It’s just a cloak, moron.” The frown on my face deepens. I was being civil and still he mocks me. I shouldn’t have expected anything else. I try to ignore the feeling of being surrounded by his scent. It’s a little distracting. \<<if $marcus_handjob is true>> “Why are you so angry anyway? We left on good terms.” He gives me a wily grin. He looks way too smug over what happened. [["I was just using you," I say in a flat tone.|c6_q_marcususing]] [[I give him a sly smile. Tease him, make him squirm.|c6_q_tease]] \<<else>> [[Continue|c6_q_marcusgift?]] <</if>>\

He gives me another surprised raise of his brow and places the cloak on my shoulders. And immediately, I’m surrounded by his scent. The smell of leather with hints of citrus and traces of sweat. He looks at me with a smirk on his lips. “Don’t look at me like that,” I warn him. He nods with the same smirk still lingering on his lips. \<<if $marcus_handjob is true>> “Why are you so angry anyway? We left on good terms.” He gives me a wily grin. He looks way too smug over what happened. [["I was just using you," I say in a flat tone.|c6_q_marcususing]] [[I give him a sly smile. Tease him, make him squirm.|c6_q_tease]] \<<else>> [[Continue|c6_q_marcusgift?]] <</if>>\

I yank the cloak off his hands with a frown. I refuse to thank him for it, it’s the least he owes me. A cloak so I don’t freeze to death. I put the cloak on and immediately frown at the sensation of being surrounded by his scent. No, smell. The smell of leather with hints of citrus. No, the smell of sweat and nothing else. “Are you sniffing at my cloak?” “No,” I hiss and wrap the damn thing tighter around me. I’m freezing to death and he’s being an idiot. On top of it all, he dares to chuckle. \<<if $fire is true>> It makes me want to punch him. \<<elseif $earth is true>> I clench my teeth and prevent myself from reacting further. He’s baiting it, fishing it out of me. As per usual. \<<elseif $air is true>> I sigh, calming myself. I shouldn’t care about his words. Especially since he wants me to care. He baits it. \<<elseif $water is true>> I take a deep, shaky breath. I’m really not in the mood for his games right now. When am I ever? <</if>>\ At least I’m getting warmer. \<<if $marcus_handjob is true>> “Why are you so angry anyway? We left on good terms.” He gives me a wily grin. He looks way too smug over what happened. [["I was just using you," I say in a flat tone.|c6_q_marcususing]] [[I give him a sly smile. Tease him, make him squirm.|c6_q_tease]] \<<else>> [[Continue|c6_q_marcusgift?]] <</if>>\

“So don’t get your hopes up,” I add. “Using me how? What is your grand plan? Make me cum every time we share a bath?” I roll my eyes. “No, idiot.” Maybe to make you fall in love with me. Maybe to get your guards down. Something like that. “Anyway,” he says and gets up. “We should go.” \<<if $marcus_killer is true>> “I’m not going anywhere with you.” “Stop acting like a stubborn pig and follow me.” “I’m not a pig.” He takes a deep breath. “If you don’t follow me now, so help me gods–” I stand up with a deep frown on my face. Fine. The thing about the other officers isn’t lost on me. I need to live to fight another day. \<<else>> I take a deep breath and get up. There’s no need to fight him on this. “I didn’t even have to drag you with me,” he mutters when we start walking back to the fort. “Did you expect that?” “With you? Always.” <</if>>\ <<button[[Continue|Chapter 8]]>><</button>>

“We did,” I say. “Did you enjoy my hand on your cock? Ever since we met, did you hope that would happen?” The smug grin on his face freezes. And I smile at the sight of his uncertainty. “You did, huh? Poor you, hoping that my forgiveness comes with the side of a blowjob.” “I don’t like this conversation.” He clears his throat and shifts a little further away from me. Him retreating with his tail between his legs is all that I need for my day to be better. “Anyway,” he says and gets up. “We should go.” \<<if $marcus_killer is true>> “I’m not going anywhere with you.” “Stop acting like a stubborn pig and follow me.” “I’m not a pig.” He takes a deep breath. “If you don’t follow me now, so help me gods–” I stand up with a deep frown on my face. Fine. The thing about the other officers isn’t lost on me. I need to live to fight another day. \<<else>> I take a deep breath and get up. There’s no need to fight him on this. “I didn’t even have to drag you with me,” he mutters when we start walking back to the fort. “Did you expect that?” “With you? Always.” <</if>>\ <<button[[Continue|Chapter 8]]>><</button>>

\<<if $niall_amulet is true>> He frowns at the amulet on my chest. “Where did you get that?” he asks. [[“None of your business,” I say and shield the necklace from his gaze.]] [[“From Niall,” I say with a sneaky smile.]] [[Shrug.|c6_q_shrug]] \<<elseif $marcus_cry is true>> [[“Did you receive my gift?” he asks.]] \<<else>> “Anyway,” he says and gets up. “We should go.” \<<if $marcus_killer is true>> “I’m not going anywhere with you.” “Stop acting like a stubborn pig and follow me.” “I’m not a pig.” He takes a deep breath. “If you don’t follow me now, so help me gods–” I stand up with a deep frown on my face. Fine. The thing about the other officers isn’t lost on me. I need to live to fight another day. \<<else>> I take a deep breath and get up. There’s no need to fight him on this. “I didn’t even have to drag you with me,” he mutters when we start walking back to the fort. “Did you expect that?” “With you? Always.” <</if>>\ <<button[[Continue|Chapter 8]]>><</button>> <</if>>

“Anyway,” he says and gets up. “We should go.” \<<if $marcus_killer is true>> “I’m not going anywhere with you.” “Stop acting like a stubborn pig and follow me.” “I’m not a pig.” He takes a deep breath. “If you don’t follow me now, so help me gods–” I stand up with a deep frown on my face. Fine. The thing about the other officers isn’t lost on me. I need to live to fight another day. \<<else>> I take a deep breath and get up. There’s no need to fight him on this. “I didn’t even have to drag you with me,” he mutters when we start walking back to the fort. “Did you expect that?” “With you? Always.” <</if>>\ <<button[[Continue|Chapter 8]]>><</button>>

“The napkin? Just in case you make me cry again?” He nods, confirming that that is indeed the gift he’s talking about. \<<if $marcus_gift_insult is true>> “It was the stupidest gift I’ve ever received,” I say. He nods again. “I see.” “You’re dense,” I continue. He nods again, shifting his gaze away from me. If I didn’t know better, I’d say he almost looks a little hurt by my words. As if he tried his best but couldn’t do better. But that would be ridiculous. That would imply that he cared in the first place. No, this is his way of rubbing the fact that he made me cry in my face. \<<elseif $marcus_gift_laugh is true>> “It was ridiculous.” “Oh.” “But I didn’t expect anything else from you.” He nods, most likely choosing to take it as a weird compliment. Maybe it was exactly that. \<<elseif $marcus_gift_nice is true>> “It was… not what I expected,” I admit. “In a good way?” he asks, trying to hide the uncertainty in his voice. But he fails. “If I chose to look at it like that, yes.” There’s a ghost of a smile dancing in the corner of his lips. “You chose to look at it like that?” “None of your business,” I say before he grows too smug. But it’s too late. He’s already smirking like an idiot. I sigh. <</if>> [[Continue|c6_q_marcusanyway]]

He frowns. He must know I got it from Niall. It’s unlikely that anyone else would gift me a Celtic knot. But when I refuse to elaborate, all he can do is to retreat. Good. For a mere moment, I can almost see him squinting his eyes, deeply displeased. “Whatever,” he says, clearly defensively. \<<if $marcus_cry is true>> [[“Did you receive my gift?” he asks.]] \<<else>> <</if>>

The way he discreetly clenches his jaw at the sight of the jewelry now hanging possessively on my neck makes me feel almost giddy. \<<if $marcus_cry is true>> [[“Did you receive my gift?” he asks.]] \<<else>> <</if>>

I wake up with a jerk. That was no dream. That was… Real. Quinn sacrificed all those people for the Twins. Quinn did that. Quinn killed all those people. How did I even see that? What happened? I rub my face and breathe deeply, trying to make sense of things. But there’s nothing to make sense of, in my heart I know that what I saw was real. No. Maybe it wasn’t. Maybe I could still hold onto hope that it wasn’t. Maybe. Just then, I realize there’s a note on my chest, almost falling on the floor. Someone placed it there when I was asleep. Carefully, looking around to see if there’s Pec behind the corner cackling at his prank, I take the note and take off to a nearby brazier to give me light. The scribble on the note proves difficult to read. I squint at it, turn it around, and finally deduce it to say, “Hot spring. Now.” Quinn. There’s a little drawing of a bird in it. At least I think it’s a bird. It might also be a stain. I look at the note with my heart throbbing at my throat. $q_He wants to meet me. Now? Right after the dream? I... I suppose I have to. It’s already too early for the morning horn, I might have enough time to slip out of the fort unnoticed. \<<if $quinn_first_pick is true>> I already tried to find $q_him before but there was nothing. There are no instructions on the note, so I can only assume I should wander to the same direction I did before and expect a different result this time. It seems foolish. <</if>>\ [[Continue|corpse lake]]

Pec is the first to greet me. “Oi,” he says with a sneaky smile on his face. “You were having a date night?” Something like that. He gasps. “I was just joking! So you were! Who was it?” "Pec, leave him alone, he's clearly tired." Floyd's voice frees me from my tormentor. I give him a quick smile. “I’ll take your sentry duty, Hati,” he says with a smile. “You look like you need it.” I can’t exactly deny it. Even my bones feel heavy. “Thanks, Floyd,” I say and fall half-dead on the bed. “He must’ve had one hell of a date to be that tired,” I can hear Pec say. \<<if (($camilla_bath is true) or ($marcus_bath is true))>> [[I dream...|Quinn nightmare]] \<<elseif (($niall_bath is true) or ($tinsae_bath is true))>> [[Thankfully, I don't dream.|Quinn note]] <</if>>

\<<set $niall_necklace to true>> I squint at the atrocious handwriting. I can barely make sense of what it says but when I finally deduce its meaning, it seems to say: \<<if $niall_handjob is true>> “Hati, what happened was a mistake. I’m sorry.” There’s a little pouch underneath the letter. Inside, there’s a silver necklace with a Celtic knot design. A shield knot, more precisely. Meant for protection. It’s beautiful, I cannot deny it. However, it must’ve been grossly expensive. Besides, the meaning of the gift makes me frown in puzzlement. He gave me jewelry for a handjob? Am I a prostitute now? Besides, calling it a mistake... [[That makes me a little sad.|c6_q_niallsad]] [[Maybe it was a mistake. I only did it because I was angry.|c6_q_niallmistake]] [[He can call it whatever he wants. He still clearly enjoyed it.|c6_q_callwhatever]] \<<elseif $niall_refusal is true>> “I’m sorry for letting you down. You know. Sex.” There’s a little pouch underneath the letter. Inside, there’s a silver necklace with a Celtic knot design. A shield knot, more precisely. Meant for protection. It’s beautiful, I cannot deny it. However, it must’ve been grossly expensive. Besides, the meaning of the gift makes me frown in puzzlement. He gave me jewelry for not having sex with me? Almost like a reverse prostitution kind of thing? That’s… Unusual. But at least the necklace is pretty. I put it on and hide it inside my tunic. [[Continue|c6_q_afterletters]] <</if>>\

“Hati,” it starts. The calligraphy is clear and easy to read, almost beautiful. I read the rest: “I made you cry.” That’s it. That’s the note. I turn the note around to see if there’s something else on the back. Nothing. “I made you cry? Really?” I roll my eyes at the letter. There’s only one fool who’s made me cry lately and this is apparently his apology for it. There’s a little pouch underneath the letter. Judging by the content of the letter, I don’t expect much from it. Still, I open it. Inside there’s a piece of expensive cloth. Little flower embroidery decorates the corners. …Is he giving this to me just in case I start crying in the future, too? That’s… [[Weirdly considerate.|c6_q_considerate]] [[Laughably ridiculous.|c6_q_marcuslmao]] [[Insulting.|c6_q_insulting]]

The handwriting is neat and easy to read but it looks like it was almost stabbed into the parchment. It reads: “I learned your secret easily. Be more careful lest you want to die.” Is that a threat or a warning? Or, even more preposterously, is she worried about me? \<<if $camilla_user is true>> I almost scoff at my thoughts. Why would she worried about me? She’s clearly gloating that she learned my secret and wants me to feel scared and worried about others finding out. [[Thank you, Camilla. Message is received loud and clear.]] \<<else>> [[She's worried about me.|c6_q_camillaworried]] [[It's a threat.|c6_q_threatcamilla]] <</if>>\

His thigh tenses immediately at my touch, his muscles rock-hard against my palm through his tunic. I give him a small smile. He exhales and smiles back at me, letting me touch him. His body is warm against mine, he’s my personal furnace. “I was worried,” he admits. “I was sure that you left to North and you would be hunted as a fugitive.” He takes a breath and continues, “Then, when I realized you didn’t leave, I was sure you were frozen to death.” He frowns. “You looked like it. You looked like you were dead.” “I did?” I frown. That sounds… familiar. Niall looks at me with worried creases all over his otherwise smooth face. “Are you feeling alright?” “I think so.” Another relieved sigh leaves his full lips. \<<if $niall_truth_quinn is true>> “I was worried that your friend had…” He doesn’t continue the thought but the intention is clear enough. [[He was afraid Quinn hurt me.|c6_q_quinnhurt]] <</if>>\ \<<if $niall_necklace is true>> [[He looks at the necklace hanging on my chest.]] \<<elseif $niall_angry_left is true>> [["Why did you come to find me?" I ask.]] \<<else>> [["Do you think that I will be in trouble about this?" I ask.]] <</if>>\

He lets out a relieved sigh and relaxes a little. “You don’t have to worry so much,” I say. “I was worried,” he admits. “I was sure that you left to North and you would be hunted as a fugitive.” He takes a breath and continues, “Then, when I realized you didn’t leave, I was sure you were frozen to death.” He frowns. “You looked like it. You looked like you were dead.” “I did?” I frown. That sounds… familiar. Niall looks at me with worried creases all over his otherwise smooth face. “Are you feeling alright?” “I think so.” Another relieved sigh leaves his full lips. \<<if $niall_truth_quinn is true>> “I was worried that your friend had…” He doesn’t continue the thought but the intention is clear enough. [[He was afraid Quinn hurt me.|c6_q_quinnhurt]] <</if>>\ \<<if $niall_necklace is true>> [[He looks at the necklace hanging on my chest.]] \<<elseif $niall_angry_left is true>> [["Why did you come to find me?" I ask.]] \<<else>> [["Do you think that I will be in trouble about this?" I ask.]] <</if>>\

He flinches at my grunt and tries to shift away from me. But there’s no room. “I’m sorry, I… I will fall if I move any further.” I let out an annoyed sigh. At least he’s warm against me. “Fine. Stay there.” He clears his throat. “I was worried,” he admits. “I was sure that you left to North and you would be hunted as a fugitive.” He takes a breath and continues, “Then, when I realized you didn’t leave, I was sure you were frozen to death.” He frowns. “You looked like it. You looked like you were dead.” “I did?” I frown. That sounds… familiar. Niall looks at me with worried creases all over his otherwise smooth face. “Are you feeling alright?” “I think so.” Another relieved sigh leaves his full lips. \<<if $niall_truth_quinn is true>> “I was worried that your friend had…” He doesn’t continue the thought but the intention is clear enough. [[He was afraid Quinn hurt me.|c6_q_quinnhurt]] <</if>>\ \<<if $niall_necklace is true>> [[He looks at the necklace hanging on my chest.]] \<<elseif $niall_angry_left is true>> [["Why did you come to find me?" I ask.]] \<<else>> [["Do you think that I will be in trouble about this?" I ask.]] <</if>>\

\<<if (($quinn_afraid is true) or ($quinn_afraid_hurt is true))>> “I think I was worried about that, too,” I say. I don’t think Quinn would ever hurt me but I didn’t think that $q_he’d kill all those people, either. Niall’s worried frown deepens. “What do you need?” He gets up, as if readying himself for a fight. “Sit back down, Niall,” I say with a small smile. “There’s no need to fight $q_him.” My smile is tense. And he sees it. “I feel helpless,” he admits. “I don’t like it.” He slumps back down, almost pushing me over the stone. “Oh! Sorry.” He grimaces and rakes his copper hair. I can only give him a weak smile. “Things will sort themselves out.” He gives me an unconvincing nod. “I’m sure they will." \<<elseif (($trust_quinn_100 is true) or ($quinn_trust is true) or ($quinn_understand is true))>> “Quinn wouldn’t hurt me,” I say with a small smile. “Are you sure?” I nod. Despite everything $q_he’s done I’m sure $q_he wouldn’t touch me. I’m everything $q_he has. My certainty relieves some stress from Niall’s wide shoulders. “I trust you to know your friend. Even if you probably didn’t expect this from $q_him,” he adds the last words as a hushed afterthought. And I promptly ignore it. \<<else>> “Quinn wouldn’t hurt me,” I say. “Are you sure?” I nod. Despite everything $q_he’s done I’m almost sure $q_he wouldn’t touch me. My certainty relieves some stress from Niall’s wide shoulders. “I trust you to know your friend. Even if you probably didn’t expect this from $q_him,” he adds the last words as a hushed afterthought. “I certainly didn’t,” I say with an equally hushed tone. <</if>> \<<if $niall_necklace is true>> [[He looks at the necklace hanging on my chest.]] \<<elseif $niall_angry_left is true>> [["Why did you come to find me?" I ask.]] \<<else>> [["Do you think that I will be in trouble about this?" I ask.]] <</if>>\

He smiles bashfully and looks away. “Thank you for the gift,” I say. “I’m glad you like it.” “I’m not sure what I did to deserve it but I like it.” “Oh, well.” He rubs the back of his neck. “I felt a little bad about what happened. I mean, I rarely say no to people.” I frown at his words. “You do?” “I mean, I don’t like letting people down. So…” He gestures at the jewelry. [["That's a little silly," I say.|c6_q_alittlesilly]] [["That sounds like something you should probably work on."]] [["Thank you. It's beautiful."|c6_q_thankyoun]]

“Niall,” I say. “Why did you come to find me?” “Look.” He sighs. “I know we didn’t leave on good terms.” An understatement. “But it doesn’t mean that I want you to freeze to death in the snow. Or be killed by Marcus for disappearing like that. Or–” \<<if $marcus_punch is true>> [[“I punched him.” I smirk.]] \<<else>> “I appreciate it,” I say. Despite everything, he still came for me. It’s nice. He gives me a quick smile before frowning. “But you really need to act more discreetly. You can’t just–” “Announce that I’m going to kill everyone?” “Exactly!” “So, if I’m quiet about my plans, you’ll approve them?” “I–” He grimaces. “No!” I grin. “I just… You’re reckless.” [["Are you worried?"|c6_q_niallworried?]] [[Shrug.|c6_q_shrugniall]] <</if>>\

He nods. “I hope the other Centurions haven’t found out about our renegade soldier leaving whenever he feels like.” He gives me a small smile. “I don’t think they have. But we should hurry back.” “You don’t think Marcus will do anything to me?” “No, gods no.” He shakes his head firmly. “I would make him pay if he did that.” He smiles brightly, despite the slightly aggressive words. I give him a small smile. At least I have him at my corner to back me up. It’s something. “Anyway,” I say and get up. “Shouldn’t we leave?” “Ah, yes, of course,” he mutters before looking at his cloak. “Could you… give that back?” “You don’t want anyone to get the wrong idea?” He nods, meekly. “Of course.” <<button[[Continue|Chapter 8]]>><</button>>

“You… What?” “I punched him and broke his nose.” He gasps. “It was you? He refused to talk about it. I…” He tries to fight against the smile forcing its way onto his lips. He shakes his head. “You are something else.” “Thank you.” “I’m not sure if that’s a good thing.” “I will take it as a compliment.” “Of course you will,” he says with a chuckle. Then, he tries to be serious again. “You shouldn’t test your luck with him.” That is exactly what I’m doing. \<<if $marcus_angry_kiss is true>> [[“You’re not just jealous that I kissed him?”|c6_q_angrymarcuskiss]] [["Are you worried?"|c6_q_niallworried?]] [[Shrug.|c6_q_shrugniall]] \<<else>> [["Are you worried?"|c6_q_niallworried?]] [[Shrug.|c6_q_shrugniall]] <</if>>

His face distorts into something that teeters between horrified and shocked. “You punched him and kissed him?” “I… Things are complicated with him.” He sits there with his mouth open. Finally, he says, “I… Understand?” “No you don’t.” “No.” “But thanks for trying.” “Anyway,” I say and get up. “Shouldn’t we leave?” “Ah, yes, of course,” he mutters before looking at his cloak. “Could you… give that back?” “You don’t want anyone to get the wrong idea?” He nods, meekly. “Of course.” <<button[[Continue|Chapter 8]]>><</button>>

“Isn’t it obvious?” He sighs in exasperation. “I think you worry too much.” “I think you worry too little.” “Maybe. Together, we create a perfect balance.” He chuckles at my words. “You are something else,” he repeats the words and looks away with a small smile on his face. “Anyway,” I say and get up. “Shouldn’t we leave?” “Ah, yes, of course,” he mutters before looking at his cloak. “Could you… give that back?” “You don’t want anyone to get the wrong idea?” He nods, meekly. “Of course.” <<button[[Continue|Chapter 8]]>><</button>>

“You can’t just shrug this away.” I shrug again. He sighs in exasperation. “You are impossible.” “Yet you’re here.” “I’m a fool, everyone knows that.” I chuckle at his words, only managing to make his frown ever deeper. “Anyway,” I say and get up. “Shouldn’t we leave?” “Ah, yes, of course,” he mutters before looking at his cloak. “Could you… give that back?” “You don’t want anyone to get the wrong idea?” He nods, meekly. “Of course.” <<button[[Continue|Chapter 8]]>><</button>>

Familiar redness creeps into his cheeks. He clears his throat. “I know. I just didn’t know what else to do.” “I’m wearing it, am I? I like it.” “Thank you,” he says with a small smile. “Anyway,” I say and get up. “Shouldn’t we leave?” “Ah, yes, of course,” he mutters before looking at his cloak. “Could you… give that back?” “You don’t want anyone to get the wrong idea?” He nods, meekly. “Of course.” <<button[[Continue|Chapter 8]]>><</button>>

“It does?” He frowns. “I just like to make people happy.” “You can’t make them happy if it makes you sad.” He nods but I’m not sure if my words reach him. “I’m just happy you like the necklace,” he says with a smile. I shake my head with a smile. "I'm happy you're happy. Anyway,” I say and get up. “Shouldn’t we leave?” “Ah, yes, of course,” he mutters before looking at his cloak. “Could you… give that back?” “You don’t want anyone to get the wrong idea?” He nods, meekly. “Of course.” <<button[[Continue|Chapter 8]]>><</button>>

He gives me a wide, bashful smile. “I’m happy to hear that. The shield knot is my favorite.” I smile at his joy and touch the silver amulet. “I chose silver,” he says. “Because you remind me of a moon.” “Moon?” He nods, refusing to elaborate further. He looks away, trying to stifle a smile. “Anyway,” I say and get up. “Shouldn’t we leave?” “Ah, yes, of course,” he mutters before looking at his cloak. “Could you… give that back?” “You don’t want anyone to get the wrong idea?” He nods, meekly. “Of course.” <<button[[Continue|Chapter 8]]>><</button>>

Just now I realize what she said about Marcus. I’ve been away without permission for too long. The sun has been up for a long time now, from what I can see through the gray clouds. Soldiers have been killed for less. “Is he planning on killing me?” I ask. She tenses at the question. “No.” Her answer is firm. “He seems to care for you, in his weird way. Probably guilt over what happened.” I nod. Probably. “But if he tries something, I will handle it. You needn’t worry.” She gives my shoulder a reassuring squeeze and leaves her hand there. It gives me more warmth, just like her words do. Silence lingers as I take in her warmth, slowly melting, slowly starting to feel my fingers. She looks at my bear skin with a small smile. “You didn’t get dressed to be this long outside.” “No,” I admit. “Where were you?” she asks. [["I met Quinn," I say.|c6_q_quinnmet]] [["I don't want to talk about it."|c6_q_notalktinsae]]

The smile on her face tightens. “I see,” she says. Silence hangs between us like a heavy rug. Without a word, she urges me to continue, to share with her what happened. But I’m not sure what to tell her. “We talked about… what was revealed.” “How did it go?” Her questions are careful, neutral, and lacking any judgment. \<<if $quinn_afraid_hurt is true>> “I told $q_him that I fear $q_him. But it hurts me.” I swallow and look away. “Dear, I… I’m so sorry,” she says and pulls me closer by my shoulder to her soft frame. “I’m sorry.” I can only nod against her. “$q_He was your friend.” I nod. Maybe $q_he still is. I just can’t see a way out of this. I’m not sure if $q_he was actually sorry for what happened or because I disapproved of it. “I just can’t wrap my head around what happened. I can’t just ignore it.” “And you shouldn’t feel obliged to,” she says firmly. “$q_He did something vile and evil.” I can only nod at her words. She takes my hand and gives it a gentle squeeze. Then, when I don’t protest, she gives my knuckles a chaste kiss. “You’re so cold,” she says as worried creases appear on her forehead. “A little,” I admit. “Hold on to my cloak,” she says and gets up. “You need it more than I.” “But what if the others will wonder?” She lets out a carefree scoff. “Let them. Your wellbeing is more important to me.” “Thank you,” I say and tighten the cloak around me. “Anything you need, dear.” She smiles and we start to walk towards the fort. \<<elseif $quinn_afraid is true>> “I told $q_him that I fear $q_him.” “I’m sorry,” she says. “$q_He’s your friend. I’m sure it hurts.” “$q_He is.” $q_He was? I’m not sure. “I just can’t wrap my head around what happened. I can’t just ignore it.” “And you shouldn’t feel obliged to,” she says firmly. “$q_He did something vile and evil.” I can only nod at her words. She takes my hand and gives it a gentle squeeze. Then, when I don’t protest, she gives my knuckles a chaste kiss. “You’re so cold,” she says as worried creases appear on her forehead. “A little,” I admit. “Hold on to my cloak,” she says and gets up. “You need it more than I.” “But what if the others will wonder?” She lets out a carefree scoff. “Let them. Your wellbeing is more important to me.” “Thank you,” I say and tighten the cloak around me. “Anything you need, dear.” She smiles and we start to walk towards the fort. \<<elseif $quinn_understand is true>> “Well, I think. All things considered.” “Oh?” She raises her brows at me slightly. “A happy surprise.” I can’t exactly tell her that I told Quinn I understand what $q_he did. I can’t tell her that I just condoned to $q_him killing those people. So, instead, I look away. It’s quiet, neither of us sure what to say. Finally, Tinsae squeezes my hand. “You’re so cold,” she says as worried creases appear on her forehead. “A little,” I admit. “Hold on to my cloak,” she says and gets up. “You need it more than I.” “But what if the others will wonder?” She lets out a carefree scoff. “Let them. Your wellbeing is more important to me.” “Thank you,” I say and tighten the cloak around me. “Anything you need, dear.” She smiles and we start to walk towards the fort. \<<else>> “Well, I think. All things considered.” “Oh?” She raises her brows at me slightly. “A happy surprise.” She must’ve expected me to judge what $q_he did. I don’t approve of it. I just… It’s all a blur. It’s quiet, neither of us sure what to say. Finally, Tinsae squeezes my hand. “You’re so cold,” she says as worried creases appear on her forehead. “A little,” I admit. “Hold on to my cloak,” she says and gets up. “You need it more than I.” “But what if the others will wonder?” She lets out a carefree scoff. “Let them." “Thank you,” I say and tighten the cloak around me. “Anything you need, dear.” She smiles and we start to walk towards the fort. <</if>>\ <<button[[Continue|Chapter 8]]>><</button>>

I don’t feel comfortable with talking about Quinn. She and $q_him are already at odds with each other, no need to fan the flames. Besides, what happened is between Quinn and I. Tinsae gives me an understanding smile. “Of course.” She squeezes my hand. “You’re so cold,” she says as worried creases appear on her forehead. “A little,” I admit. “Hold on to my cloak,” she says and gets up. “You need it more than I.” “But what if the others will wonder?” She lets out a carefree scoff. “Let them." “Thank you,” I say and tighten the cloak around me. “Anything you need, dear.” She smiles and we start to walk towards the fort. <<button[[Continue|Chapter 8]]>><</button>>

It clearly borne out of my bitterness against Marcus. It makes sense that even he’d think that it shouldn’t have happened. Maybe I think so, too. Still, I put on the necklace and hide inside my tunic. It's pretty and reminds me of home. [[Continue|c6_q_afterletters]]

I smirk knowingly at the note. And I got a necklace out of it, too? What a lucky day. With a sense of victory I put on the necklace and hide it inside my tunic. [[Continue|c6_q_afterletters]]

I try not to mind the feeling of disappointment over Niall calling what happened a mistake. Sure, I was angry at Marcus. But… At least the necklace is pretty. I put it on and hide inside my tunic. [[Continue|c6_q_afterletters]]

Why else would she send me a note telling me to be more careful? Or is that wishful thinking on my part? I give the note a small smirk. \<<if $camilla_sex is true>> My eyes widen at the little text at the end of the note: “I enjoyed your flesh.” \<<else>> [[Continue|c6_q_afterletters]] <</if>>\ \<<if $loud_pervert is true>> Oh. I didn’t expect her to gloat about what happened so openly. Someone could’ve read the letter before me. I think I remember hearing that in the olden times, unfaithful Roman wives were sealed in a room and left to starve to death by the husband. Shivers run down my spine. What an unnecessarily cruel death. I doubt the customs still hold water. Otherwise, Camilla wouldn’t be so brazen with her letters. Hopefully she knows what she’s doing. [[Continue|c6_q_afterletters]] \<<elseif $shy_pervert is true>> Heat rushes to my cheeks as I look around if there’s someone reading the note over my shoulder. Once I’m satisfied there’s no one around, I read the line again. I think I remember hearing that in the olden times, unfaithful Roman wives were sealed in a room and left to starve to death by the husband. Shivers run down my spine. What an unnecessarily cruel death. I doubt the customs still hold water. Otherwise, Camilla wouldn’t be so brazen with her letters. Hopefully she knows what she’s doing. [[Continue|c6_q_afterletters]] \<<elseif $clueless is true>> It takes a moment to realize that she’s talking about the things she did to me and not her taking a bite out of me when I wasn’t looking. Heat rushes to my cheeks and I clear my throat in the darkness. I think I remember hearing that in the olden times, unfaithful Roman wives were sealed in a room and left to starve to death by the husband. Shivers run down my spine. What an unnecessarily cruel death. I doubt the customs still hold water. Otherwise, Camilla wouldn’t be so brazen with her letters. Hopefully she knows what she’s doing. [[Continue|c6_q_afterletters]] <</if>>\

I look at the parchment and deduce it to be a clear threat. She’s clearly gloating that she learned my secret and wants me to feel scared and worried about others finding out. \<<if $camilla_sex is true>> My eyes widen at the little text at the end of the note: “I enjoyed your flesh.” \<<else>> [[Continue|c6_q_afterletters]] <</if>>\ \<<if $loud_pervert is true>> Oh. I didn’t expect her to gloat about what happened so openly. Someone could’ve read the letter before me. \<<elseif $shy_pervert is true>> Heat rushes to my cheeks as I look around if there’s someone reading the note over my shoulder. Once I’m satisfied there’s no one around, I read the line again. \<<elseif $clueless is true>> It takes a moment to realize that she’s talking about the things she did to me and not her taking a bite out of me when I wasn’t looking. Heat rushes to my cheeks and I clear my throat in the darkness. <</if>>\ I think I remember hearing that in the olden times, unfaithful Roman wives were sealed in a room and left to starve to death by the husband. Shivers run down my spine. What an unnecessarily cruel death. I doubt the customs still hold water. Otherwise, Camilla wouldn’t be so brazen with her letters. Hopefully she knows what she’s doing. [[Continue|c6_q_afterletters]]

\<<if $camilla_sex is true>> My eyes widen at the little text at the end of the note: “I enjoyed your flesh.” \<<else>> [[Continue|c6_q_afterletters]] <</if>>\ \<<if $loud_pervert is true>> Oh. I didn’t expect her to gloat about what happened so openly. Someone could’ve read the letter before me. \<<elseif $shy_pervert is true>> Heat rushes to my cheeks as I look around if there’s someone reading the note over my shoulder. Once I’m satisfied there’s no one around, I read the line again. \<<elseif $clueless is true>> It takes a moment to realize that she’s talking about the things she did to me and not her taking a bite out of me when I wasn’t looking. Heat rushes to my cheeks and I clear my throat in the darkness. <</if>>\ I think I remember hearing that in the olden times, unfaithful Roman wives were sealed in a room and left to starve to death by the husband. Shivers run down my spine. What an unnecessarily cruel death. I doubt the customs still hold water. Otherwise, Camilla wouldn’t be so brazen with her letters. Hopefully she knows what she’s doing. [[Continue|c6_q_afterletters]]

\<<set $marcus_gift_nice to true>> There are so, so many ways I could interpret this as insulting. The napkin implies that he’s going to make me cry in the future. The statement on the note is a far cry from the apology he probably hoped it to be. However, deep down, some part of me is almost happy by the sight of what’s in my hands. The napkin is beautiful, the cloth is decorated with care. And if I squint enough, maybe the statement over what happened looks like his way of apologizing. Maybe. With a little smile on my face I fold the napkin and hide it in my clothes. Just in case he makes me cry again. [[Continue|c6_q_afterletters]]

\<<set $marcus_gift_laugh to true>> I look at the short note and the cloth in my hand and I can’t help but to chuckle at the sight. It looks exactly what I expected from a man like him to use as an apology. His emotional intelligence is that of a mushroom. Besides, there’s the underlying implication that he’s going to make me cry again in the future. Why else would he prepare me for more tears? He’s a fool. But at least I got a laugh out of this. With an amused smile on my face, I fold the napkin and hide it in my clothes. I should be ever prepared for any more tears caused by Marcus. [[Continue|c6_q_afterletters]]

\<<set $marcus_gift_insult to true>> First, he makes me cry, then he rubs it in my face with his ‘apology’? It’s not even an apology, there’s nothing apologetic about it. He’s just stating what happened! And with the napkin he’s preparing me for any future tears, most likely caused by him. What an idiot. I throw the rag and the note in the brazier. It devours them in gratitude. [[Continue|c6_q_afterletters]]

$q_He frowns. “Why would you say something like that if you don’t mean it?” “I’m confused, alright? It’s not everyday you hear your friend murdering people.” $q_He smiles. “Friend.” “A monster friend, yes.” "A friend nonetheless." [[Continue|"I think something broke in me."]]

$q_His face brightens up with relief. “I don’t know either. I don’t know at all what I’m doing.” I can’t help but laugh at $q_his words. “Not at all?” “I haven’t kissed anyone before you. Ever.” [["You kissed me, don't you remember? I loved you."|c6_q_lovedyou]] [["Me neither."|c6_q_neverkissed]]

Confidence wasn’t lacking in my previous partners who had to dodge my mother who was threatening to burn them in the wickerman for staining my white clothes with their grimy hands. I scoff at the memory. It feels almost absurd to be talking like this after I just called $q_him out for being a monster. To talk so lightheartedly about such mundane things as past kisses. Quinn nods. “I can be that. Let’s try again, shall we?” $q_He tries to dive in for a second kiss but I block $q_his advances. “No. I think we’ve had enough for the night.” “Sure,” $q_he says with a carefree smile. [[Continue|c6_q_postkissquinn]]

I speak in a past tense and $q_he doesn’t realize it. I barely realize it. $q_He opens $q_his mouth, as if trying to deny it. Then, $q_his eyes lighten up in remembrance. “Oh, right! I did!” $q_He smiles like the sun. “You were my first love, my first kiss. The air was filled with the sweet scent of lilacs when it happened. I was so nervous my hands were damp with worry.” $q_He smiles wistfully, reliving the memory. But the information only makes me frown in concern. “Have you lost your memories, too?” I ask. “No, no.” $q_He shakes $q_his head fiercely. “I mean… they’re all there. Too many of them, mixed up in a confused mess of things.” “Because of the blessing?” $q_He nods. “I try not to think about it.” Sounds familiar. And concerning. [[Continue|c6_q_postkissquinn]]

Even if I wanted to, mother threatened any and all potential kissing partners with threats of burning them in a wickerman. Quinn sighs in clear relief. “We can practice together.” I let out a dry laugh. “I don’t think I’m ready for that. Not yet.” “I can wait forever.” “Thank you.” I smile. [[Continue|c6_q_postkissquinn]]

Even if I can’t kiss $q_him, not right now, I can still offer $q_him some comfort. I take $q_his naked, frail frame into my arms and $q_he starts sobbing silently against my cloak. $q_He keeps repeating that $q_he’s sorry. That if $q_he could, $q_he would take it all back. “I had to do something,” $q_he says through $q_his tears. “But it was wrong. It made you sad. I–” I caress $q_his white hair and take in $q_his scent of evergreen trees. I don’t know if I can forgive $q_him. But $q_he’s all I’ve got left. I can’t just abandon $q_him now. $q_He squeezes me harder, entwines $q_his arms around me, deeply grateful that I’m there, afraid that I’ll change my mind, afraid to let go. //don’t leave don’t leave don’t leave// I can hear $q_his fear in my head. I can feel it. It’s dark and invasive and suffocating. “It’ll be alright,” I say. It’s not, we both know it. But my deceitful words still manage to soothe $q_his mind. “Thank you,” $q_he says and retreats from my embrace. [[Continue|"I think something broke in me."]]

But I can’t give $q_him the comfort $q_he needs, not right now. And it makes me feel like shit. “Quinn, I…” “No, don’t worry about me.” $q_He quickly shakes $q_his head. “I’m just pathetic for a while. Let me… collect myself.” “You’re not pathe–” But $q_he furiously shakes $q_his head at my words, refusing to let me speak. With a deep sigh, I can only watch $q_him hug $q_himself, breathing heavily, trying to calm $q_himself. I look away, trying to think of something else as guilt is eating away at me. I shouldn’t feel guilt, my reaction is more than valid. [[Continue|"I think something broke in me."]]

I shake my head. No. That’s not how this is going to be resolved. That’s not what I want. “Does… this mean you don’t love me?” $q_he asks, $q_his voice afraid. “No, I just don’t think kissing is going to resolve anything right now. I don’t know if I even want to kiss you. I–” $q_He takes a moment to process my words. “So you… Don’t hate me?” Hope brightens up $q_his words. “I… Please, Quinn, just let me process this in peace. This is a lot.” “I know.” $q_He scratches $q_his beaten arms in a way that almost looks like it’s painful. [[Continue|"I think something broke in me."]]

!!In the town Wet snow makes my advancement in the stone pavement laborious and my boots soggy. Yet, there’s a spring in my step I haven’t had for a long time. I can actually bathe today. Alone. \<<if $quinn_first_pick is true>> That is, unless something unexpected happens again. Being stood up by Quinn left a bad taste in my mouth. <</if>>\ \<<if $sex is "female">> The skin under my bindings lets out another tired groan of agony. Soon. Soon I can get out of this thing. Every breath I take pains my side; I try not to think whether or not I have a broken rib. I can’t wait to breathe without restraints, without the fear of getting caught. \<<else>> I’ve found myself thinking that perhaps the Romans have forgotten about the druids they slaughtered, perhaps the tattoo wouldn’t catch any unwanted attention anymore. But it hasn’t been that long since they slaughtered my clan. It would be foolish to try my luck just for a bath. Thankfully, now I can finally get rid of the smell. <</if>>\ Camilla told me to head towards the middle of the town. There’s a private bath she’s rented especially for me. Weirdly kind of her. Suspiciously so. \<<if (($camilla_optio is true) and ($optio_murderer isnot true))>> However, I shouldn't be too worried about it. She killed the Optio for me. <<elseif (($camilla_optio is true) and ($optio_murderer is true))>> However, I shouldn't be too worried about it. She was there when the Optio died. Her knife sunk into the Optio's back even if he was already dead because of me. \<<else>> I have my suspicions about her and her motives but my need for a bath is great. I'm sure it'll be fine. <</if>>\ [[A small laugh escapes me.|c6_c_lol]]

I don’t know why I asked her for a bath if I remain surprised that she follows through with her promises. But I do know why I remain suspicious: it’s the way she looks at me, the way she talks to me. Like I was expendable. But still, for some reason, she chooses to help me. No matter. The most important thing is that I’m going to get bathed. Finally. Apparently, bathing privately isn’t that popular among Romans. For some reason, they want to share their baths with everyone. Only the rich ones have their own baths. Camilla has one in the Legate’s villa but apparently she didn’t want me to prance the halls. It’s probably for the better, just for the risks involved. I wonder how much money she spent on the private establishment? And it’s all just for me. I should probably thank her later. I push the heavy door open and let out a relieved exhale. Finally. [[Time for a bath.|c6_c_bathfinally]]

In contrast to the bath house in the barracks, this one is decorated with more elegance. Instead of porn on the walls, there are water-themed mosaics. Fish, water monsters, sea nymphs… There are plants to liven up the place, and a beautiful assortment of oils and perfumes wait for their rich consumers. It makes me feel almost foolish that I’d be so awestruck as I first entered the baths at the barracks. The water in the pool is cleaner than in the barracks. Makes sense, fewer people must use this establishment. Only people with money to spend can afford water this clean. [["Master Hati, about damn time you showed up!"]]

I flinch at the harsh words and the demanding tone. I turn to see a woman clearly prone to frowning looking at me. “Lady Camilla told me to see to it that you’re properly fed.” She gives me a quick lookover. \<<if $build is "lithe">> “No wonder she did, you look like the wind might take you with it.” “Excuse me?” “And they think they can defend the Empire with soldiers this thin.” [[“Look, lady, I don’t know who you are and I don’t appreciate your tone.”]] [[“You look like you’ve been eating all too well.”]] [[Remain silent.|c6_c_silent]] \<<elseif $build is "average">> “No wonder she did, you should eat more.” [["Mind your own business."]] [[Remain silent.|c6_c_silent]] \<<elseif $build is "muscular">> "You do look like you’ve eaten well.” She gives my bicep a pinch. “Feeling as firm as a soldier should." [["Don't touch me."]] [[Remain silent.|c6_c_silent]] <</if>>\

She waves my non-appreciative concerns off. “Lad, I’m here to feed you, not to treat you with respect.” That’s at least honest of her. [[Who is this loud, rude woman?]]

She erupts in laughter and smacks my shoulder so hard I cringe at the impact. “You said it, good lad. I like you.” [[Who is this loud, rude woman?]]

I merely give her a dead stare. [[Who is this loud, rude woman?]]

She starts unpacking her bags. There are bottles of wine, multiple pieces of cheese, bread, and dried fruit. “Who are you?” I ask. “My gods, you are dull as a rock. Must be why Lady Aurelia is fond of you.” “What–” She slows down her speech, articulates the words to me as if speaking to a child: “I work for my lady and I’m here to give you food.” She points at the food. “You eat. Yummy.” She rubs her belly and erupts to laugh. [["Please, just leave."]] [["Thank you for the food. Now, please leave."]] [["Fuck off."]] [[Just stare at her.|c6_c_stare]]

“How touchy of you,” she says and mockingly raises her hands. [[Who is this loud, rude woman?]]

“Well excuse my crass manners, boy.” She mockingly retreats her hands. [[Who is this loud, rude woman?]]

What I would give for this strange, rude woman to leave already. She gives me a cackle as an answer. “You’ll just wait a moment and I’ll be out of your asshair.” [[Continue|c6_rudewomanbegone]]

“Why, you are very welcome, lad. But you’ll just wait a moment and I’ll be out of your asshair.” [[Continue|c6_rudewomanbegone]]

“Now now, let’s not get nasty. You’ll just wait a moment and I’ll be out of your asshair.” [[Continue|c6_rudewomanbegone]]

“Now now, no need to act like you’ve got a pole up your arse. I’ll be out soon enough.” [[Continue|c6_rudewomanbegone]]

I frown at the crass words but at least it means she’s leaving soon. She starts working on the food and starts to plate up, scurrying to get a little table. At least she’s actually helpful, even if she’s highly unpleasant about it. She works in blissful silence. Whether it’s because she’s considerate or because she lost interest in talking with me, doesn’t really matter. At least she's quiet. [[Ask her about Camilla.|c6_c_askcamilla]] [[I simply refuse to talk to her further.|c6_c_notalk]]

I do not need to start a conversation with that woman. Finally, the table is set, the wine and the food is ready to be devoured. “I’ll be off now,” she says as she wipes her hands on her cloak. Then, she leaves as quickly as she came. \<<if $dummy is true>> I look at the table, now filled with cheeses and wine. Am I supposed to drink and eat all that? Seems excessive. \<<else>> There are three goblets on the table. I doubt they’re all for me. Might be that I don’t have much time before someone else arrives at the baths. I need to hurry. <</if>>\ [[Continue|c6_c_alone]]

Even if it means that I will have to listen to this woman some more, this is a good opportunity to ask about Camilla. “So, you work for Cam–, lady Aurelia?” “Yes. And I heard you, boy. Addressing my lady with her first name as if you were her secret boy toy.” She squints her eyes at me. [["I'm no such thing!"|c6_c_nosuchthing]] [["What if I was?"|c6_c_whatif]] [[Blush at the implication.|c6_c_blush]] [[Shrug.|c6_c_shrug]]

“Why, you look adorable with that little blush on your chubby cheeks.” She squeezes my cheek before I can swat her hand away. She cackles at the interaction and continues cutting the cheese. [["You better make her happy."|c6_c_bettermakehappy]]

She gives me a quick look over before sighing in disappointment. ”I’d say that her standards have lowered.” I frown at the insult. It isn’t difficult to imagine at all that this woman is close to Camilla. She continues: [["You better make her happy."|c6_c_bettermakehappy]]

“Thank the gods!” she exclaims. “She could do so much better.” I frown at the insult. It isn’t difficult to imagine at all that this woman is close to Camilla. She continues: [["You better make her happy."|c6_c_bettermakehappy]]

She squints at my nonchalant shrug and continues: [["You better make her happy."|c6_c_bettermakehappy]]

She wags her cheese knife at me as a threat. “She’s had enough of shit in her life.” I give her an inquisitive look. I know that’s all people like her require to continue talking. “I know she ain’t happy with that husband of hers. His daughters are the same age as she is, how disgusting is that?” I can’t really deny it so I give her an understanding nod. “I know he’s a good catch, being the legate and all that but it’s still ridiculous. She ain’t happy. And by Jupiter’s ass cheeks that girl deserves happiness after what she’s been through.” Another inquisitive look, another understanding nod. “I don’t know why she even came back. She should’ve stayed where she was. Things were easier and she smiled more. It was a good life.” “Stay where?” I realize the error of my ways the moment she bites her lip and falls silent. I should’ve just nodded along. “Now that ain’t none of your bloody business, you hear. If you don’t know, she doesn’t trust you and neither will I.” She slams another wine bottle on the table and says: “Now, I’ll be off.” She wipes her hands on her cloak and leaves as quickly as she came. \<<if $dummy is true>> I look at the table, now filled with cheeses and wine. Am I supposed to drink and eat all that? Seems excessive. \<<else>> There are three goblets on the table. I doubt they’re all for me. Might be that I don’t have much time before someone else arrives at the baths. I need to hurry. <</if>>\ [[Continue|c6_c_alone]]

Once the door shuts and the weirdly rude woman is gone, a sigh leaves me. Thank the Twins. That’s not something I wanted to deal with right now. Nevermind that, I’m finally alone and I need to bathe. I can’t wait to get out of my clothes. \<<if $sex is "female">> The rude woman should be long gone by now. My hands wander to my bindings, eager to rip them off in one single motion, to tear the cage that's been holding me for so long. However, it’s going to hurt. Just as I’m bracing myself for the pain to come, the silence is disturbed. \<<elseif $sex is "male">> The rude woman should be long gone by now. Just as I’m about to start scrubbing myself clean, a distant sound makes me frown. <</if>>\ "I told him to leave or I’ll gut him." Camilla? Oh, crap. "Camilla!" Tinsae’s scandalized comment follows. Then, in a considerably more worried tone she continues: “You didn’t? Gut him?” They’re here? Now? I look at my chest and cringe. They shouldn’t be here. My back is facing the duo and the water level is high, so they shouldn’t be able to see my chest. Still, the sound of those two makes my chest tighten. \<<if $sex is "male">> Tinsae might not realize the meaning of the tattoo but Camilla’s gaze is like that of a hawk. She will know what it means. <</if>>\ [[Continue|c6_c_ohdear]]

“Oh dear!” Tinsae’s voice is the first one to greet me directly. “Hati, please excuse us, we thought you were finished already.” “I didn’t,” Camilla says. “You said you told him to come here early.” I can practically hear Camilla’s indifferent shrug. “I just got here,” I say, praying that saying it would make them leave. “We’re so sorry,” Tinsae says. Camilla seemingly starts saying that she isn’t but from the sound of it, Tinsae elbows her into silence. Please, just leave. I squeeze my eyes shut and say a quick prayer to the Twins. Then, when I open my eyes, Camilla is looking at me with a determined frown on her face. “I will bathe now.” [["What?"|c6_c_what]]

“Gaius is soaking in the villa with his friends, I will not visit the public ones at this hour, and another private bath is invaded by a hoard of politicians.” A flash of disgust crosses her face. She gives me a determined frown and repeats: “I will bathe now.” Tinsae appears in my view, too. “Camilla, you’re being rude. Hati, you don’t have to–” Camilla interrupts her: “Hati doesn’t care. He’s just afraid that we will find out his little secret.” “What secret?” Tinsae frowns. \<<if $sex is "male">> “He is a druid from Caledonia. The last one alive from that bunch. And he ought to be killed on sight if found out.” \<<elseif $sex is "female">> “She's a druid from Caledonia. The last one alive from that bunch. And apparently there’s a pair of boobs under those bindings.” <</if>>\ “What?” both Tinsae and I say. Camilla points at my chest as if she was delivering news from last year. \<<if $sex is "male">> “There is a tattoo under that water level, marking him a druid.” \<<elseif $sex is "female">> “There is a pair of breasts under that water level, hidden behind a dirty piece of bandage. Oh, and she’s also a druid of Caledonia, ought to be killed on sight if found out,” she adds as an afterthought. <</if>> [[Continue|c6_c_whatwhat]]

Tinsae’s eyes are wide, and I can only assume my eyes are even wider. Tinsae opens her mouth to speak but, instead, she gives Camilla an angry frown. And Camilla ignores her. She takes her jewelry off as if she’s truly going to join the bath now that the pesky issue of my identity is finally revealed and dealt with. Finally, Tinsae manages to say through her teeth: “Even if this is true, Camilla, you should’ve let Hati tell us that. This is most unbecoming of you.” Another infuriating shrug from Camilla. “I didn’t have all day.” Tinsae tightens her fists into a ball for a mere moment. Then, she turns to me. Regret paints her features. Regret, worry, confusion. “I’m so sorry. Camilla… You…” Her gaze darts to my chest before her frown deepens and her voice gets more stern and accusatory. “Camilla. You had no right.” [[I'm too angry to speak.|c6_c_angry][$camilla_angry to true]] [["Camilla. Fuck you for outing me."][$camilla_angry to true]] [[I'm too stunned to speak.|c6_c_stun]] [["How did you know? Have you told anyone else?"|c6_c_whohow]]

Camilla sighs. “Tinsae, you aren’t going to tell anyone and I already knew. I fail to see the problem.” Tinsae tightens her cloak. “That is indeed your problem. That you can’t see it.” Camilla scoffs. “I don’t care if Hati is a woman or a man or a druid or a demon or a foreign god. All I want is to get out of these fucking clothes and get my daily bath.” “You’re–” “I’m sorry,” she finally says in a bitter tone, all but rolling her eyes in the process. It’s as if she was a child forced to give an apology. Then, as if the matter is solved, she moves on to remove her dress. But Tinsae is not finished. [["Why haven't you helped Hati?"]]

Tinsae nods with anger flashing through her gaze as she looks at her friend. Camilla, instead, sighs. “Tinsae isn’t going to tell anyone and I already knew. So I fail to see the problem.” Tinsae tightens her cloak. “That is indeed your problem. That you can’t see it.” Camilla scoffs. “I don’t care if Hati is a woman or a man or a druid or a demon or a foreign god. All I want is to get out of these fucking clothes and get my daily bath.” “You’re–” “I’m sorry,” she finally says in a bitter tone, all but rolling her eyes in the process. It’s as if she was a child forced to give an apology. Then, as if the matter is solved, she moves on to remove her dress. But Tinsae is not finished. [["Why haven't you helped Hati?"]]

Everything is happening so fast. I try to speak but nothing but a huff of air comes out. Tinsae gives me a concerned look. Camilla sighs. “Look, Hati, I’m sorry.” ‘Or whatever,’ she seems to add in her mind. All I can do is to look at Camilla. As if the matter is solved, she moves on to remove her dress. But Tinsae is not finished. She turns to Camilla. [["Why haven't you helped Hati?"]]

That’s the most pressing matter. Another nonchalant shrug as she removes her last bracelet. “You’re not exactly subtle. And no, I haven’t told anyone else yet.” Tinsae cuts in, her voice filled with anger: “Yet? Don’t you dare threaten Hati with that knowledge.” Camilla flinches at the harshness of the words. “I’m not–” [["Why haven't you helped Hati?"]]

"Hati’s been putting his life in danger this whole time. You could’ve offered him a bath earlier.” “What? I’m not his nanny. Marcus knows, too. Marcus actually made sure that Hati’s whole tribe is now dead.” Tinsae’s jaw drops as she tries to process all the information. She rubs her temples before slumping on the floor as gracefully as a wounded deer. "You both...," she says before biting her lip seemingly to stop herself from saying things she might regret. Camilla gives her a look of slight confusion and irritation. And it only makes Tinsae clench her jaw harder. “This is…” Tinsae huffs. “I–” She looks at me, unsure of herself. “I will leave now. You’re welcome to my home if you’d prefer, Hati.” She stands up and keeps her gaze glued only at me. Camilla frowns at her words. “You’re overreacting. Hati’s just happy that the truth is out.” “Over–” Tinsae all but spits out the word. She steels her features with a deep breath. “I will wait for you outside for a moment. I need to breathe.” With these words, and not giving even a glance to Camilla, she leaves. Camilla purses her lips and looks after her friend. “Well?” she says, her words prickly and aimed at me. “Are you following her or not?” [["I'm not going anywhere. I was here first and I'm not finished."]] [[Remain silent and continue washing.]] [[Leave after Tinsae but not before insulting Camilla.]] [[Leave after Tinsae without saying a word.]]

\<<set $camilla_bath to true>> Neverminding the hostile way I was outed, this does mean that I don’t have to hide myself anymore. I can bathe freely. She snorts. “Good for you, druid.” I cringe at the new nickname. “Don’t call me that.” She shrugs as she takes another bracelet off. “Would you prefer the term ‘fugitive’?” “You are so funny.” “Not as funny as your attempts to stay alive in the midst of enemies.” “Is this all a joke to you?” “Maybe.” She smirks like a self-content cat. [[Ignore her.|c6_c_ignore]] [["I fail to see how this is funny." I'm getting really angry.|c6_c_angry2]]

\<<set $camilla_bath to true>> \<<if $camilla_angry is true>> My mind is still an angry mess but I came here to bathe. And I plan on doing exactly that. For now, it looks like she is going to keep the information about my identity to herself. \<<else>> I’m still confused over how she got her information about my identity but for now, it looks like she is going to keep it to herself. That’s good enough for me. <</if>>\ I just want to wash myself. Camilla raises her brow at me before scoffing. “Good for you,” she merely says and walks to the table with the wine. All the while clenching her jaw tightly, she pours herself a hefty goblet of wine. I doubt she expected that harsh of a reaction from Tinsae. Or does she regret her actions when it comes to me? Doubtful but possible. Before I can read her face any longer than that, however, she turns her back to me. [[Continue|c6_c_silencelingers]]

“You’re an evil witch, you know that?” “Nothing I haven’t heard before,” she muses with a little smirk on her lips. \<<if $fire is true>> I clench my fists and fight the urge to punch that smirk off her face. She hums like she’s all too pleased at the sight. “Would you take a swing at a lady?” “I see no ladies here,” I all but growl. “But you’re not worth it.” I smother my anger and follow Tinsae. \<<elseif $earth is true>> I give her a deadly stare, projecting all my buried anger on the matter. She avoids my gaze, instead opting to look at the table with the wine goblets. I follow Tinsae and leave Camilla to her vices. \<<elseif $air is true>> I stare at her, intensely and all too long. Finally, she shifts uncomfortably and her gaze wanders to the table with the wine goblets. “Planning to drink your sorrows away?” I ask, my tone devoid of emotion. “Shut up,” she snarls and I smile inwardly. I leave her to her vices. \<<elseif $water is true>> “You should probably stop to think why you keep hearing it,” I say, disappointment and anger coating my words. She merely scoffs at my words before glancing at the table with the wine goblets. I shake my head and leave Camilla to her vices. <</if>>\ [[Continue|tinsae_bath]]

I don’t want to be around Camilla after what happened. I might miss my bath but this is not worth it. As if fully in the know that would be my decision, Camilla scoffs and saunters off to take a goblet of wine from the table. She doesn’t offer me a word of goodbye, which is hardly surprising. I leave her to her vices. [[Continue|tinsae_bath]]

All too used to her usual antics, I simply choose to ignore her attempts at getting a rise out of me. It’s not worth it. Instead, I focus on the water. And from the corner of my eye I see her eyeing at the table with the wine goblets. [[Make a dry remark about her drinking habits.|c6_c_dryremark]] [[Remain silent.|c6_c_silent22]]

“I’m in constant danger of being found out. I haven’t even dared to bathe properly in weeks. The last time I tried it was when the Optio tried to kill me for it.” My voice is getting a little louder, a little angrier with every word. This noblewoman dares to mock me on her high horse, as if she’s better than me, as if my life’s dangers are but a joke to her. “My family was killed and the rest were enslaved. Where do you see the joke, Camilla? Where is it?” I stare at her as a challenge, rage seeping into my words. She remains silent and every bit of mockery has left her features after my outburst. Her gaze wanders to the table with the goblets of wine. Finally, she says: “I apologize. I don’t think it is funny.” Right. Glad we got that out of the way. [[Make a dry remark about her drinking habits.|c6_c_dryremark]] [[Remain silent.|c6_c_silent22]]

“Do the goblets of wine drown out your pesky feelings?” I ask. “Shut it,” she hisses as she makes her way to the table. All the while clenching her jaw tightly, she pours herself a hefty goblet of wine. I doubt she expected that harsh of a reaction from Tinsae. Or does she regret her actions when it comes to me? Doubtful but possible. Before I can read her face any longer than that, however, she turns her back to me. [[Continue|c6_c_silencelingers]]

There is an opportunity to mock her drinking habits but I decide against it. I’m not here to fight. I’m here to bathe. Camilla makes her way to the table and pours herself a goblet of wine. Then, she turns her back to me, possibly to drink in peace. [[Continue|c6_c_silencelingers]]

For a good while, we remain silent as she sips her wine. Finally, Camilla turns to me with a determined look on her face. Just when I’m about to ask, she starts disrobing herself. What began as a graceful disrobing, turns into a violent show of anger as she struggles to take her matron dress off. For a moment it looks like she’s fighting a losing battle against a woolen serpent. She tears off the brooch made of sapphires that holds the thing together and throws it away as if it was mere trash. Finally, the massive pile of expensive cloth along with her wig is removed, discarded on the floor, and only her long under tunic remains. Her brown hair is messy and her gaze is bitter. [[Applaud sarcastically.]] [["You're adorable." My words are condescending.]] [[Try not to laugh.]] [[Offer her some sympathy.]] [[Remain silent.|c6_c_remainsilent1][]]

Slowly, loudly, I start clapping my hands as if I was watching the most riveting show in the whole of Empire. Camilla rolls her eyes at me, as expected. “You’re so fucking funny,” she scoffs. “I do try my best.” [[Continue|c6_c_tunicdiscard]]

\<<if $fire is true>> But I can’t help it. I burst out laughing at her struggles, and the giddiness I feel is only amplified by the fact that she just outed me to Tinsae. She deserves a little ridicule. She squints her eyes. “You little shit. Easy for you to laugh, you have a tunic and a cape.” “And trousers,” I add. She rolls her eyes. “Try to put these on everyday.” \<<elseif $water is true>> Laughter seeps from my lips as I try to cover my mouth. She does deserve a little ridicule after outing me to Tinsae. She squints her eyes. “You little shit. Easy for you to laugh, you have a tunic and a cape.” “And trousers,” I add. She rolls her eyes. “Try to put these on everyday.” \<<else>> I manage to keep my face straight but it’s not like she didn’t deserve a little ridicule after she did. She squints her eyes at me, almost daring me to laugh at her so she can snap at me for it. But I don’t give her the satisfaction. <</if>>\ [[Continue|c6_c_tunicdiscard]]

“I can see why you wanted to get rid of those.” “Try putting these on every fucking day,” she curses at the dress and the wig and I half expect her to kick at the pile of restraints she’s forced to wear. Then, she mutters a curse as she gives me a quick, panicked glance. That’s right, she must have a helping hand with the outfits and she needs to put the dress on later. That is, unless she wishes to walk through the town hauling a feet long dress at her tow. She gives me an almost hesitant look, probably fearing that I will refuse to help her and she has to do it by herself. I could help her. Maybe. [[Continue|c6_c_tunicdiscard]]

I give her show a deadpan stare and remain silent. She throws me a frown and keeps quiet, too. [[Continue|c6_c_tunicdiscard]]

“I’m…” She takes a moment to process the words. “What?” “Adorable. You try to intimidate me by showing you’ve got the upper hand in terms of information, then you can’t even get out of your dress.” I giver her a small, condescending smile. “I think that’s utterly adorable.” She squints her eyes in anger but, for now, chooses to remain silent. She can’t exactly deny my words. [[Continue|c6_c_tunicdiscard]]

She discards her tunic without a hint of showmanship, revealing her naked skin as if I wasn't even here. [[Look at her body.|c6_c_lookielook]] [[Give her privacy.|c6_c_privacy]]

The generous lighting of the bath house reveals her nude frame in all its glory. She’s lean, her muscles a telltale of a hobby unfit for a Roman lady. She gives me a small smirk as she glides into the pool, all too pleased by the attention. “Do you work out?” I ask. “You can clearly see that I do.” “Can’t you just say ‘yes’?” “No.” [[Continue|c6_c_howdoyouknowaboutme]]

Instinctively, I look away. And, when I hear that she’s glided into the pool, I turn my head back to her. “How bashful of you,” she says, her tone mocking, her features more irritated than usual. Interesting. She wanted me to look. I wonder why. She doesn’t strike me as someone who yearns attention for attention’s sake. It must be something else. [[Continue|c6_c_howdoyouknowaboutme]]

Without giving her time to get too comfortable, it’s time to ask the most pressing question I have: “How did you know about me?” Another dismissive smirk. She’s not going to tell me. I guess it doesn’t matter. What matters is: “Does anyone else know? Are you going to tell?” There’s a moment of silence as she’s sipping her wine, all too happily, fully in the know that my life depends on the answer. Finally, she says: “I won’t be the cause of your untimely death just yet. No one else knows but Marcus and I. And now Tinsae.” “Did Marcus tell you?” She scoffs. “As if that idiot ever told me anything useful. A boneheaded fool,” she mutters the last words to her wine goblet. I guess the most important thing is that no one else knows. For now. She looks at me from behind her goblet, inspects me with her sharp gaze. “You can rest easy for now,” she says and I’d almost be fooled to think that it’s her attempt at comforting me. [[Might as well start washing myself.|c6_c_wash]]

It's why I'm here, after all. \<<if $sex is "female">> The bindings are still on me. Dirty, itchy, causing me pain. I want to get them off. [[Take them off without hesitation. She already knows.|c6_c_camknows]] [[Hesitate.|c6_c_hesitate]] \<<else>> [[“Finally,” Camilla says, wrinkling her nose.]] <</if>>\

I look at her and the air traps in my throat. /<<if $gender is not “ciswoman”>> [[I don't want to show my breasts to anyone ever.|c6_c_noskinever][$dysphoria_breasts to true]] [[I just don't like to show my skin to strangers.|c6_c_noskin]] <<else>> [[I just don't like to show my skin to strangers.|c6_c_noskin]]

After all this time of waiting around, I’m done. I just want to get rid of these and get this over with. So, with a grimace, I start ripping the wraps off. It hurts, I haven’t had the chance to change them in a good while. I try to keep them as clean as I can but there have been more sentries lurking along the riverbed recently. Finally, my skin is free. I take a deep breath and smile, the feeling of freedom without the bindings obstructing my breathing is exhilarating. The skin itches and aches but I’m so glad to be rid of the dirty wrappings. “Your skin looks terrible,” Camilla states in a deadpan way. “It looks as it feels,” I grimace when my mind shifts its focus back to the skin instead of the nice water. Her gaze lingers on my breasts. [[Perk my chest up.|c6_c_perkup]] [[Shield my breasts from her gaze.|c6_c_shield]] [["What is it?"|c6_c_what?]]

I’ve hidden my naked skin for so many months, it feels like second nature to shield myself from her gaze. But she already knows. Besides, I just really need to wash. So, with a grimace, I start ripping the wraps off. It hurts, I haven’t had the chance to change them in a good while. I try to keep them as clean as I can but there have been more sentries lurking along the riverbed recently. Finally, my skin is free. I take a deep breath and smile, the feeling of freedom without the bindings obstructing my breathing is exhilarating. The skin itches and aches but I’m so glad to be rid of the dirty wrappings. Camilla tilts her head as she inspects me. I sink a little deeper into the water and hope she will look away. Instead, she says: “That looks painful.” Sympathy. Not what I expected. “It is.” “You should start bathing here more.” "I already said you could." "Hm. Thank you." [[Continue|c6_c_tattoo]]

“What’s wrong?” she asks. [[Tell her the truth about my dysphoria.]] [[Shake my head and bear with it.]]

“I don’t like to show my breasts to anyone.” “Shy? Didn’t expect that from you.” “No, I…” I take a deep breath. “I don’t feel comfortable with that. I don’t want anyone to look at them.” I half-expect ridiculing words to leave her cruel lips, but, instead, she gives me a weirdly understanding nod. “Then I won’t look at them.” Her considerate words ring strangely in the air. Quickly enough, she looks away and doesn’t spare me another glance as I take the bindings off. I sigh deeply in relief and start peeling the bindings off. It hurts, I haven’t had the chance to change them in a good while. I try to keep them as clean as I can but there have been more sentries lurking along the riverbed recently. Finally, my skin is free. I take a deep breath and smile, the feeling of freedom without the bindings obstructing my breathing is exhilarating. The skin itches and aches but I’m so glad to be rid of the dirty wrappings. And still Camilla gives me my privacy. I sink deep into the water and say: “You can look now.” She’s still sipping her wine as she turns to look. And, true to her word, she doesn’t spare a glance at my chest. “You must be happy to be rid of them.” “Yes.” I sigh. [[Continue|c6_c_tattoo]]

I don’t feel comfortable telling her. But I also don’t feel comfortable stripping in front of her. I doubt she will just turn around because I ask her nicely. “You’re uncomfortable,” she states, trying to search for a reason. “Are you… shy?” “No. I just don’t want you to look.” She frowns at the words and I half-expect ridiculing words to leave her cruel lips, but, instead, she gives me a weirdly understanding nod. “Then I won’t.” Her considerate words ring strangely in the air. Quickly enough, she looks away and doesn’t spare me another glance as I take the bindings off. I sigh deeply in relief and start peeling the bindings off. It hurts, I haven’t had the chance to change them in a good while. I try to keep them as clean as I can but there have been more sentries lurking along the riverbed recently. Finally, my skin is free. I take a deep breath and smile, the feeling of freedom without the bindings obstructing my breathing is exhilarating. The skin itches and aches but I’m so glad to be rid of the dirty wrappings. And still Camilla gives me my privacy. I sink deep into the water and say: “You can look now.” She’s still sipping her wine as she turns to look. And, true to her word, she doesn’t spare a glance at my chest. “You must be happy to be rid of them.” “Yes.” I sigh. [[Continue|c6_c_tattoo]]

\<<if $dysphoria_breasts is true>> She gives me a hesitant look, unfit for her usually confident and intrusive gaze. “What is it?” “Can I…,” she starts, unsure where to look. “Can I look at the tattoo?” “Oh.” Weirdly nice of her to ask, especially given that she knows how I feel about her looking at my breasts. “Sure,” I say, partly because she caught me off-guard with her thoughtfulness. \<<else>> I start washing myself. I rub the skin around the tattoo absentmindedly. That is, until I notice Camilla’s gaze on me. Or, more specifically, on the tattoo. <</if>>\ “How old were you when you got that?” she asks. “10. My mother carved it on my flesh.” My words make her frown as she inspects the tattoo further. “The wounds were deep, the scar is prominent,” she mutters. “You were a strong child.” \<<if $fire is true>> “I cursed my mother for inflicting pain on me. She cut deeper.” I almost laugh at my words, despite the memory of the pain that still lingers. \<<elseif $earth is true>> Shrug. “Mother said so. I didn’t scream.” It hurt and I wanted to, but I knew better. \<<elseif $air is true>> “I looked at myself and mother from afar, like I wasn’t in my own body. It was interesting,” I muse as I remember the event. It’s proven a useful skill over the years. \<<elseif $water is true>> “I screamed and cried, begged her to stop. Mother reprimanded me for it. So no, I wouldn’t say I was strong.” I smile despite not feeling like smiling. <</if>>\ I look at Camilla’s pondering face, and realize that I shared intimate details of my childhood. “The Twins demanded it. The tattoo,” I say quickly. “Your gods? How do you serve your them?” \<<if $human_blood is true>> “With blood,” I say without hesitation. “They demand blood.” Camilla’s gaze is slow and careful as she inspects me. “I’ve heard rumors of the folk in the North.” “What kind?” Half a smile sneaks to her lips. “Interesting things.” Her gaze still lingers on my tattoo, her fingers graze the lines. She looks at me, and the smile reveals her white, sharp teeth. “You are interesting." [[Continue|ch6_c_gladgods]] \<<else>> [["Prayers, sacrifices."]] <</if>>\

Her gaze is intrusive and penetrating, and I can’t help but to shield myself against it. She raises her eyes to meet with mine and lets out a dry laugh. “Did I make you uncomfortable?” With her, it’s difficult to say if she’s speaking mockingly or out of concern. Or is it really? Isn’t it always mockery with her? “You did,” I say. “Apologies.” And it almost sounds like she means it. ”It’s just fascinating.” “What is?” [[Continue|c6_c_deepinthought]]

I’m not going to shield myself from her gaze like a maiden. Instead, I perk myself and proudly welcome her intrusive gaze. A genuine-looking smile appears on her face as she keeps looking. “It’s a nice pair of tits,” she says, throwing me a sudden compliment. “Thank you.” The smile still lingers on her lips as she says: “I was deep in thought.” [[Continue|c6_c_deepinthought]]

Her gaze still lingers on my chest, even my question didn’t manage to pull her attention away. Finally, she says: "I was merely deep in thought." [[Continue|c6_c_deepinthought]]

“Blood sacrifices?” Her tone is intrigued as she inspects me. “Sometimes, yes. But not often.” “They’re not bloodthirsty gods, then?” “No. They are benevolent and I owe everything to them.” \<<if ($believer is true) or ($chosen_one is true)>> My heart fills with certainty, my words ring true. She hears my conviction, she must hear it. She gives my tattoo a quick glance. “I see.” \<<elseif $doubter is true>> My words are practiced and doubt sours the conviction I once had. She hears the doubt, she must hear it. She looks at the tattoo as she muses: “Benevolent, indeed.” <</if>> [[Continue|ch6_c_gladgods]]

“I’m glad your relationship with your gods is good.” She takes another sip of her wine. “I like to think that gods find enjoyment in our torture.” “That does sound like what Roman gods would do.” “Not yours, then?” She gives me a small smirk. \<<if (($believer is true) or ($chosen_one is true))>> I quickly shake my head. "No." \<<elseif $doubter is true>> I pause, not sure how to answer. I don’t think that the Twins find enjoyment in my suffering but what I think might be the truth is even more hurtful than that: That they ignore my existence. “No, not mine,” I say with less conviction that is expected from a druid. <</if>>\ “I see,” she says with a light, almost condescending smirk on her lips. With that, the conversation thankfully ends. My devotion to the Twins, my mother, so much about me is out in the open. [[And so little of her.]]

Silence lingers as we both focus on washing. “What happened to the Optio…,” I start, unsure how I should continue. She tilts her head, waiting for my next words. “Does it bother you?” I ask. “No.” Her tone is as expressionless as her face is. “Really? Not at all?” “He was nothing to me.” She seems almost puzzled by my question. [["It bothers me. What happened."]] [["That's cold of you."]] [["I'm happy that he's dead. He was a prick."]] [[Remain silent.|c6_c_optiosilent]]

“You really managed to hide your sex. I’m not sure if I even would’ve doubted you if you didn’t act like an ass and make a target out of yourself.” “If you’re talking about the time when I yelled at you in the middle of the barracks…” [["Quinn made me do it."]] [["Well, yes. It was stupid."]]

“Yes, your weird friend. Having met $q_him, I can certainly see $q_he’d do something like that.” She wrinkles her nose in remembrance. “With friends like that, who needs enemies?” “I have plenty of those, too,” I say with a little smirk. “Indeed.” [[Continue|c6_c_tattoo]]

“Many things you’ve done have been stupid,” she says, not necessarily accusing me. No, she looks more amused than anything. Almost impressed. And I can’t exactly deny the fact that it’s stupid that I’m here. Even being here with her might be a stupid idea. [[Continue|c6_c_tattoo]]

“Your smell was getting overbearing.” “Hardly the most pressing issue for me, but yes, I know.” She gives me a small, mocking smile before letting her gaze run free on my skin. \<<if $build is "muscular">> Without a drop of shame, she lets her eyes linger on my arms. [[Tighten the muscles to show off.]] [["What are you looking at?"]] \<<elseif $scar is true>> She looks at the scar the bear’s claws left on me. “It adds to your charm.” “The scar?” She ignores the question and keeps looking, inspecting. “It makes you look even wilder.” I frown at the so-called compliment. [["If that's your way of flirting with me, you're miserably failing."]] [[Remain silent.|c6_c_remainsilent2]] \<<elseif (($hobby_fashion is true) and ($beard is true))>> She looks at my beard. “I always wondered why your beard is so well taken care of but you smelled like shit.” I snort at the sudden revelation. “Now you know.” “Now I know.” And, without asking first, she reaches out to touch my beard. [[Slap her hand away.|c6_c_slap]] [[Let her caress it.|c6_c_caress]] \<<else>> She gives me a small, mocking smile before letting her gaze run free on my skin. “You have a wild look about you,” she says with a smirk. “I’ve heard that before.” “Does it bother you to hear it?” “Would it make you stop saying it if it did?” “No.” As expected. [[Continue|c6_c_tattoo]] <</if>>\

I smirk and tighten my biceps. A smile stretches her lips before she shows off her own toned arms. “Mine are bigger,” I say. “I couldn’t fit in my dress if mine were bigger.” “And what a shame that would be.” She smirks in agreement and I almost find myself smiling back at her. It’s a weird thing, seeing her this playful. [[Continue|c6_c_tattoo]]

“Appreciating the view,” she says. “How straightforward of you.” “Indeed.” I give her a questioning look, to offer a chance to explain herself further. However, she chooses silence. Fine. So be it. [[Continue|c6_c_tattoo]]

“I don’t think so.” “You are.” “You’re free to think that.” “Your success at flirting depends on me letting you know that it worked.” “You look like a liar.” I squint my eyes at her and she returns the favor. Then, she snorts out a laugh. [[Continue|c6_c_tattoo]]

I don’t know whether to be offended or not, so I choose to remain silent. Besides, this seems like her usual game of insults. “You don’t mind that I call you a wildling?” “Do you want me to mind?” She shrugs but we both know she’d prefer it. [[Continue|c6_c_tattoo]]

She looks me in the eyes as she lets her hand wander on my beard, feeling its texture. “It’s so soft. Impressive.” “Thank you.” Her skin grazes mine as she keeps peering deep into my eyes. “You’re welcome.” She gives me a small smile, bordering on a smug smirk. Then, she retreats, clearly all too happy with herself. [[Continue|c6_c_tattoo]]

She bites her lip and looks at her hand with a frown. “Excuse me?” “You need to ask for permission.” “I never do.” “Better get to learning.” She scoffs. [[Continue|c6_c_tattoo]]

I’m not sure why I’m telling her this. Perhaps because she was there. Maybe I just really need to tell someone. She gives me a long look. It’s not judgmental, perhaps, but it’s coated with… pity. “He tried to kill you,” she explains, as if I didn’t already know. “He did.” \<<if $optio_killer is true>> “You handled yourself well.” She commends me, probably for the fact that I killed him myself. It doesn’t make me feel any better. “Shouldn’t I feel bad?” “You can feel however you wish to. I wouldn’t waste my energy on it.” “You’ll learn,” she says and starts rubbing oil on her skin. I wonder what’s happened to her to make her seem so ruthless. \<<else>> “You should be happy that I was there,” she says emotionlessly as she rubs more oil on her skin. I suppose I should. Without her, I would most likely be dead. Still, it doesn’t change the fact that I feel bad about it. “You’re overthinking,” she reprimands me with a bored expression. “Your words ring cruel.” She merely shrugs at my words. <</if>>\ “You’re new to this,” she states. “To what? Killing people?” She ignores the question and keeps probing: “Were you sheltered by your family?” “Just because I can’t stomach killing, doesn’t mean I was sheltered.” She makes no further remarks. It seems that, in her mind, she made her point clear. She’s not wrong about me being sheltered, I suppose. Mother didn’t want me to venture far from the grove. I spent my years studying and praying. But that has nothing to do with this. [["Have you killed before?" I ask.|c6_c_killed?]]

“Should I remind you that he tried to kill you?” “No. But I can still feel bad about his death.” She ignores the question and keeps probing: “Were you sheltered by your family?” “Just because I can’t stomach killing, doesn’t mean I was sheltered.” She makes no further remarks. It seems that, in her mind, she made her point clear. She’s not wrong about me being sheltered, I suppose. Mother didn’t want me to venture far off from the grove. I spent my years studying and praying. But that has nothing to do with this. [["Have you killed before?" I ask.|c6_c_killed?]]

“I didn’t know him,” she says as she rubs oil on her skin. “He used to beat us up.” “As officers tend to.” She doesn’t seem too interested in hearing about him. “So you agree with his methods?” “He got results.” I scrub my skin with a little more anger. “Why did you help me then?” “If not because I secretly hated the guy?” She smirks, as if the thought was utterly ridiculous. “I just wanted to.” “Why?” She sighs in exasperation, apparently due to my questions, and doesn’t answer. [["Have you killed before?" I ask.|c6_c_killed?]]

\<<if (($distressed_optio_murderer is true) or ($optio_regret is true))>> I’m sorry for what happened to him but I doubt Camilla would understand. She seems like a woman who’s either built up walls so thick around her that she doesn’t let anyone know her feelings, or that she genuinely doesn’t care. Either way, it’s fruitless to talk about the Optio with her. And she seems relieved over my decision. \<<else>> This topic of the Optio’s untimely death doesn’t interest me that much. She stated that it doesn’t bother her, either. So, there’s really no need to dwell on it. <</if>>\ [["Have you killed before?" I ask.|c6_c_killed?]]

\<<if $dummy is true>> Something about her makes me think that she has. \<<else>> It’s obvious from her words but I want to know more. <</if>>\ “Yes,” she says, completely detached from the word and the deed. “It was necessary.” “Who?” “My mother.” “What?” “I’m joking, you idiot. Don’t ask so many questions, it’s annoying.” For some reason it wasn’t difficult to imagine her committing the act of matricide. [["You're the idiot."|c6_c_idiot]] [["It would've been easy to believe. You seem like the type."]] [[Remain silent.|c6_c_silent3]]

She snorts at my lousy retort. But there’s a small smile on her lips, as if she’s enjoying herself, enjoying the childish banter. “Not such an idiot that I’d kill my mother. She’d kill me if I failed.” She ponders on her words as she looks at me. “What is your relationship with your mother?” [["I don't want to talk about it."|c6_c_nopenotalking]] [["Good."|c6_c_goodmother]]

She snorts. “I’ll take that as a compliment. You should meet her, my mother. You’d know she’d have me killed if I failed at an assassination attempt.” She ponders on her words as she looks at me. “What is your relationship with your mother?" [["I don't want to talk about it."|c6_c_nopenotalking]] [["Good."|c6_c_goodmother]]

I let the insult pass through me. She’s prickly and I’m used to it. “I wouldn’t kill my mother,” she continues. “She’d have me killed if I failed.” She ponders on her words as she looks at me. “What is your relationship with your mother?” [["I don't want to talk about it."|c6_c_nopenotalking]] [["Good."|c6_c_goodmother]]

I ponder on my answer, wondering what part of mother’s attributes makes it true. “She was strict,” I start but pause. What else is there? I can feel Camilla’s expecting gaze on me. “She had high expectations,” I continue. Camilla exhales a small laugh. “What a great mother.” I frown at the ridicule. “She was the head druid of our grove. She maintained everything and she did it well.” Camilla remains silent at my small outburst. “Let’s talk about something else.” [[Continue|c6_c_daddy]]

She squints her eyes in delight, as if she found a touchy subject. “Why won’t you?” “I just won’t.” Annoyance rises within me, aimed both at her and her probing and at me for making her believe that she found a wound in my soul. She did not. I just don’t want to talk about her. With Camilla. With anyone. Not now. “Fine,” she says. “I’ll find out in due time.” I almost roll my eyes at the smugness. [[Continue|c6_c_daddy]]

She’s already probed a lot of information about me. However, she reveals little of herself. [[I need to learn more of her. I can use the information against her.][$camilla_user to true]] [[I want to try and make a true connection with her.]]

She seems to think she has the upper hand in this situation. She flaunted the knowledge about me all too flippantly, as if it meant nothing to her because she’s in charge. However, it’s good if she underestimates me, I can use it to my advantage. Her father seems like a sensitive topic. “I’m sorry about your father,” I say, not truly meaning the words. I can’t be sure if her father has passed away or if it was all a lie, too. A frown wrinkles her forehead as she stops washing her hair. After a long pause, she finally says: “Thank you.” [["Can you tell me about him?"]]

She’s a rude woman, all too rude, all too smug. But there’s something about her that makes me drawn to her. Makes me want to know her. “I’m sorry about your father,” I say. A frown wrinkles her forehead as she stops washing her hair. After a long pause, she finally says: “Thank you.” [["Can you tell me about him?"]]

She gives me a long, inspecting look, as if concluding whether or not she wants to share the info with me. Share him with me. \<<if $camilla_user is true>> Or if she’s going to share another lie. <</if>>\ Finally, she seemingly makes up her mind. “He was a good man. Wise, akin to the best philosophers in the Empire, the new and the old. A disciplined man, a stoic in nature.” She looks elevated as she speaks of her father. Her gaze glimmers in reverence. \<<if $camilla_user is true>> It seems weirdly genuine. She’s either telling the truth or she’s excellent at lying. <</if>>\ “He raised me like a son.” A small smile lingers on her lips. “I learned things no noblewoman should.” “Like what?” She ignores the question and looks at the goblet in her hand. With her tone still proud and solemn, she says in a lower voice: “I loved him dearly.” The confession seems intimate, as if she’s rarely caught admitting something like that. The word ‘love’ sounds harsh in her tongue, seldom used, but filled with defiance and fidelity. [[Tell her about my father.]] [[Remain silent.|c6_c_remainsilentfather]]

\<<if $camilla_user is true>> It might prove useful to tell her about my father, she might think of it as me being genuine and trying to connect with her. <</if>>\ “My father was a good man, too,” I say as a smile dances on my lips. “He loved us, his family. He loved every one of his children. There was always a smile on his face, never wavering.” Not even when mother– I blink at the memory that’s trying to surface. Camilla seemingly ignores the pause, whether to give me space or if she even noticed it, it’s difficult to say. Instead, she raises her goblet with a small smile on her face. “Here’s to good fathers.” She gives me a goblet of wine. [["I don't drink, sorry."|c6_c_nodrink]] [[Drink it.|c6_c_drinkit]]

I’m not sure if I want to share my father with her. \<<if $camilla_user is true>> It’s better that she doesn’t know too much about me. \<<else>> Even if a part of me wants to get to know her better, the subject of my father is still too raw in my mind, and I’d rather not bring him up right now. <</if>>\ She hands me a goblet of wine. “Here’s to my father,” she says with a lopsided smile on her face. [["I don't drink, sorry."|c6_c_nodrink]] [[Drink it.|c6_c_drinkit]]

"You don't? Why?" [["It clouds my judgment."|c6_c_judgement][$teetotaller to true]] [["I just don't."|c6_c_justsayno][$teetotaller to true]] [["It goes to my head too quickly."|c6_c_lightweight][$lightweight_drinker to true]]

There is nothing more to tell about it. I’ve just never felt the need to start indulging. Camilla shrugs. “Suit yourself.” She enjoys her wine in silence as we soak in the water. The silence is beginning to feel slightly more comfortable. But there is still something else I’d like to know about her. We’ve talked about her father and mother, but I remember her telling me that she has a brother as well. [["Didn't you mention that you have a brother?"]]

“So?” “You don’t think that’s a bad thing?” She shrugs. “The good outweighs the bad.” “And what’s the good?” “Numbness,” she says in a surprising spout of honesty. ‘Why do you feel numb,’ I want to ask but the look on her face tells me that she wouldn’t answer. Instead, I fall silent and Camilla takes the goblet back. “Suit yourself.” She enjoys her wine in silence as we soak in the water. The silence is beginning to feel slightly more comfortable. But there is still something else I’d like to know about her. We’ve talked about her father and mother, but I remember her telling me that she has a brother as well. [["Didn't you mention that you have a brother?"]]

She snorts. “Are you sure you want me to know that?” No. But it’s too late now. “Are you going to use the information against me?” She gives me a small, sneaky smile. Why did I even ask? “You’re safe to drink with me,” she says as she offers the goblet once more. “I promise.” The smile on her face looks feline. I would be a fool to trust her. [[Decline.|c6_c_decline][$no_drink to true]] [[Accept.|c6_c_accept]]

I welcome the sweet sweet numbness. I only wish I could indulge in alcohol more often than I dare nowadays. I can never let my guard down, never numb the pain. Camilla gives me an approving nod. We enjoy our wine in comfortable silence, both of us savoring the taste, the effect, the rare moment of peace. The silence is beginning to feel slightly more comfortable. But there is still something else I’d like to know about her. We’ve talked about her father and mother, but I remember her telling me that she has a brother as well. [["Didn't you mention that you have a brother?"]]

She looks at the redness spreading across my cheeks. “Just a couple of sips and your face is already heating up.” A small teasing smirk. “I can’t help it, I have a low tolerance.” She nods, as if making a mental note of my weaknesses. “Don’t look at me like that.” She merely smiles at the implied accusation. I sip my wine in silence as she enjoys hers. The silence is beginning to feel slightly more comfortable. But there is still something else I’d like to know about her. We’ve talked about her father and mother, but I remember her telling me that she has a brother as well. [["Didn't you mention that you have a brother?"]]

She flinches at the question. Then, as if annoyed at her own reaction, she shoots me a feral frown. “Can I ask about–” “No,” she states and gets up from the pool without as much as a glance at me, and proceeds to get more wine. She is, indeed, quite angry and naked. \<<if (($camilla_user is true) and ($dummy isnot true))>> A way to distract me, perhaps? No matter, I already got the most crucial information out of her and I can certainly make use of this. \<<elseif (($dummy isnot true) and ($camilla_user isnot true))>> A touchy subject. Better not probe further. \<<elseif (($dummy is true) and ($camilla_user is true))>> A sudden burst of thirstiness? Or is she hiding something? \<<else>> She must’ve felt thirsty all of a sudden. <</if>>\ \<<if $shy_pervert is true>> I take a peek at her naked buttocks with some hesitation. They’re perfectly round but in a way that accentuates the muscles. That’s a good ass and she knows it. That’s why she’s showing it off by lightly bending over the table. She turns to meet my gaze with a sly smile on her face. I quickly look away but it’s too late. She knows I was looking. “Got a good look?” “Yes. Thank you.” “Do you want any?” I blink at the words. Do I want any what? Ass? She frowns at my confusion. Then, when the realization hits her, she snorts out a laugh. “Do you want wine, you idiot?” \<<elseif $loud_pervert is true>> Boldly, without a drop of shame, I take in the whole of her buttocks. They’re perfectly round but in a way that accentuates the muscles. That’s a good ass and she knows it. That’s why she’s showing it off by lightly bending over the table. She turns to meet my gaze with a sly smile on her face. And I meet it with an equally sly smile on mine. “Got a good look?” “Yes. Thank you.” “Do you want any?” “Ass?” I offer, knowing fully well that’s not what she meant but the opportunity is too delicious to pass up on. She blinks before snorting out a laugh. “You idiot. Wine.” \<<elseif $clueless is true>> I wonder if it’s truly necessary for her to bend over in such a way, the table is not that low. She turns to meet my gaze with a sly smile on her face. And I meet it with a puzzled frown. “What?” I ask. She rolls her eyes. “Do you want any?” “Do I want what?” For some reason, my brain is not working properly right now. “Wine, you idiot.” \<<elseif $not_interested is true>> I look at her naked back and wonder how she’s so comfortable with her nakedness around me. We barely know each other. Then, as if on cue, she turns to me with a sly smile on her face. But, when she meets my gaze, the smile dies. She seems puzzled for a heartbeat before asking: “Do you want any?” <</if>> [[Continue|c6_c_wantany?]]

I certainly do not feel safe getting drunk with her but against my better judgment, I accept the goblet. She looks at the redness spreading across my cheeks. “Just a couple of sips and your face is already heating up.” A small teasing smirk. “I know, I told you so.” She nods, as if making a mental note of my weaknesses. “Don’t look at me like that.” She merely smiles at the implied accusation. I sip my wine in silence as she enjoys hers. The silence is beginning to feel slightly more comfortable. But there is still something else I’d like to know about her. We’ve talked about her father and mother, but I remember her telling me that she has a brother as well. [["Didn't you mention that you have a brother?"]]

She smirks at my firm headshake. “How disappointing.” She enjoys her wine in silence as we soak in the water. The silence is beginning to feel slightly more comfortable. But there is still something else I’d like to know about her. We’ve talked about her father and mother, but I remember her telling me that she has a brother as well. [["Didn't you mention that you have a brother?"]]

The wine tastes sour, pungent, but there’s a pleasant sweetness cutting through the bitterness. [[Smile spreads across my face. Alcohol soothes my mind.][$drinking_problem to true]] [["Just one goblet. I don't have a good tolerance."][$lightweight_drinker to true]]

\<<if $teetotaller is true>> “No, I told you I don’t drink.” “Just needed to be sure.” “How is it so weird for you?” She shrugs and saunters back to the pool. \<<elseif (($lightweight_drinker is true) and ($no_drink isnot true))>> “I’m already feeling a little dizzy after the last one,” I say, all too honestly. I probably shouldn’t have told her that. She gives me an evil-looking smirk as she pours me another drink. \<<else>> "Sure." She pours me a drink and saunters back to the pool. <</if>>\ She barely has the time to sit down when she gives me a devious look and opens her mouth: “So, now that we’re friends…,” she starts, her words highly sarcastic as she straightens her posture. “You’re here to kill Romans?” [[Continue|c6_c_killromans?]]

I focus on washing my hair for a moment to process her question. If anything, her words ring intrigued. There’s no sense of judgment in her tone, nor her expression. \<<if $dummy is true>> I wonder what she will do with the information? Is she going to tell the others? Is she going to get me killed? She could’ve done so many times before. I wonder if it’s safe for me to tell her the truth. \<<else>> There’s no indication that she will use the information against me, whatever the information might be. She fully expects to hear that I’m here to kill Romans. I wonder how to proceed with this. <</if>>\ [[Tell her the truth.|c6_c_truth][$camilla_trust +=1]] [[Lie.|c6_c_lie][$no_revenge to true]]

\<<if $manipulated is true>> I’m not even lying about that. It’s the truth but there’s more to it than that. No, I’m not here to kill anyone, even if my gut tells me I should be. She definitely doesn’t need to hear about my memory loss either. \<<elseif $determined is true>> She might not believe it but it feels safer to lie. For now. “No. I’m not here to kill anyone.” <</if>>\ She gives me a long look. It’s difficult to know if she believes me. Probably not, given that she clearly expected me to say that I’m here to kill. The look on her face is that of a woman not believing a word I say. “That’s what you claim,” she starts. “I don’t just claim it, I–” “Whatever the case may be,” she continues and all but ignores my retorts. “You need to know what’s to come. Just so you won’t get yourself killed needlessly.” Why does she sound almost worried? Could she be worrying about me? She leans back against the wall of the pool, her gaze glued to me. [["He is coming this spring."]]

\<<if $manipulated is true>> \<<set $no_revenge to true>> “No. I’m here to find my brother and sister.” She doesn’t look convinced. “And you did that by infiltrating the Roman Auxiliaries? You can’t leave here to look for them.” It does make little to no sense, now that she puts it like that. “Well, there’s more to it…,” I say, unsure if I should tell her the truth about my amnesia or not. [[Tell her.|c6_c_amnesiatruth][$camilla_trust +=1]] [[Remain silent.|c6_c_noamnesia]] \<<elseif (($determined is true) and ($camilla_user is true))>> It might be useful to tell her the truth about my motivations. She clearly has a plan, and she seems more than willing to share it with me. In the end, I could use that information against her. [["Yes. I'm here to kill."|c6_c_yeskiller]] \<<elseif (($determined is true) and ($camilla_user isnot true))>> Maybe I could help her. Perhaps we could help each other. [["Yes. I'm here to kill."|c6_c_yeskiller][$honest_killer to true]] <</if>>\

I take a deep breath and proceed with the truth: “I don’t know why I’m here.” Her brows furrow slightly. She expects me to elaborate. “I… Just don’t remember much. One day I was just here and I had this burning pit in my stomach. Anger that didn’t feel mine.” It still gnaws at me, urges me to lash out. She gives me another long look. I’m not sure if she believes me. I wouldn’t, either. “Amnesia, you say?” she muses, more to herself than to me. “Something in me wanted me to avenge my family. Everyone who died. I just–” “Sensible. I would like to have revenge, too.” “I don’t know if I want that,” I continue the thought that she interrupted. In exchange, she gives me another small frown. “Why wouldn’t you?” “I just… It doesn’t feel like me.” Her gaze is filled with mistrust as she looks at me. She must think this is just an act. And I find myself trying to justify myself: “I wake up looking at the Legate’s house and I don’t remember how I got there. My guts tell me to find out his weaknesses, to plot his demise.” “The Legate?” Her eyes lighten up. “You want to kill him?” "No, I don't... I don't know." She gives me another skeptical frown. “I see.” Maybe it was a mistake to tell her. The look on her face is that of a woman not believing a word I say. “That’s what you claim,” she starts. “I don’t just claim it, I–” “Whatever the case may be,” she continues and all but ignores my retorts. “You need to know what’s to come. Just so you won’t get yourself killed needlessly.” Why does she sound almost worried? Could she be worrying about me? She leans back against the wall of the pool, her gaze glued to me. [["He is coming this spring."]]

I don’t want to share with her the state of my amnesia. I’m not sure what caused it, how much I’ve lost. Besides, she might use the information against me. Knowing her, the fear might be justifiable. “You’re here to kill the Legate. And his dear son,” she says, trying to fish out a statement from me. I open my mouth to deny it, even though technically I do still find myself sleepwalking to gawk at the Legate’s villa. Camilla ignores my attempt and continues: “They were there. I would want to kill them, too, in your shoes.” She holds my gaze. When I still refuse to answer, she backs down. “Fine. Whatever the case may be,” she continues. “You need to know what’s to come. Just so you won’t get yourself killed needlessly.” Why does she sound almost worried? Could she be worrying about me? She leans back against the wall of the pool, her gaze glued to me. [["He is coming this spring."]]

“Excellent,” she says as a genuine-looking smile spreads across her lips. “I knew you were a sensible one.” She inches closer, still wearing the same, dangerous smile. "You can have your revenge.” \<<if $dummy is true>> “How?” She purses her lips ever so slightly, clearly disappointed about something. “You really have no idea?” "No. Should I?" She gives me a long, pondering look before smiling. “No, you shouldn’t. This is a part of your charm.” “What is?” She’s mocking me. Instead of answering, she smiles. Mockingly. \<<else>> “You mean your plan to kill the Emperor?” She smiles at my words. “Good. You’re not as slow as you look.” I frown at the backhanded compliment. <</if>> [["You're a cunt, you know that?"|c6_c_cunt]] [[Ignore her rudeness.|c6_c_ignorerude]]

The insult goes through me like it was never there. It’s getting easier and easier to ignore her jabs. She leans back against the wall of the pool, her gaze glued to me. “He is coming this spring,” she says as she sips her wine, her grip on the goblet a little too tight. “Do you know anything about him?” “Not much.” “You will,” she muses and her words carry a clear sense of threat. “He will take interest in you and you need to be ready.” “Interest in me? Why? How do you know?” “I know. But, we can stop him. Together.” I give her a long, pondering look. Walls have ears and she’s putting her life in danger just for telling me the gist of her plan. But can I truly trust her? She does seem more approachable than she’s been ever before. \<<if $dummy isnot true>> But is it all a part of her plan to make me trust her? <</if>>\ \<<if $camilla_user is true>> I don’t really need to trust her, I'd be a fool to trust her. I could just as easily make her believe that I’m in on the plan and make my mind up about my own plans later when I know more. However, is that the wisest course of action? <</if>>\ [["No. I don't want to be a part of this."]] [["No. And I think you shouldn't put your life in danger either."]] [["Yes. I'm in."|c6_c_imin]]

“Yes,” she fully admits it. “I’m a cunt and I could be your cunt ally.” “Could you be a little less cunt?” “No.” Fair enough. She leans back against the wall of the pool, her gaze glued to me. “He is coming this spring,” she says as she sips her wine, her grip on the goblet a little too tight. “Do you know anything about him?” “Not much.” “You will,” she muses and her words carry a clear sense of threat. “He will take interest in you and you need to be ready.” “Interest in me? Why? How do you know?” She doesn't answer. I give her a long, pondering look. Walls have ears and she’s putting her life in danger just for telling me the gist of her plan. But can I truly trust her? She does seem more approachable than she’s been ever before. \<<if $dummy isnot true>> But is it all a part of her plan to make me trust her? <</if>>\ \<<if $camilla_user is true>> I don’t really need to trust her, I'd be a fool to trust her. I could just as easily make her believe that I’m in on the plan and make my mind up about my own plans later when I know more. However, is that the wisest course of action? <</if>>\ [["No. I don't want to be a part of this."]] [["No. And I think you shouldn't put your life in danger either."]] [["Yes. I'm in."|c6_c_imin]]

She sips her wine, her grip on the goblet a little too tight. “Do you know anything about him?” she asks. “Not much.” “You will,” she muses and her words carry a clear sense of threat. “He will take interest in you and you need to be ready.” “Interest in me? Why? How do you know?” She ignores the question and continues: “Even if your heart is not filled with hatred towards him,” she says, her jaw clenched, “you’d do well to remember that your tribe was not the only one killed because of him. He is a man willing to kill and enslave anyone who stands in his way.” [["And you care about them? 'The barbarians?'"]] [["Why would you care?"]] [["But what can I do?"]]

“Of course not. But I take it that you do?” Honest, ruthless words, as expected. But yes, she’s right about me caring. “We can stop him. Together.” I give her a long, pondering look. Walls have ears and she’s putting her life in danger just for telling me the gist of her plan. But can I truly trust her? She does seem more approachable than she’s been ever before. \<<if $dummy isnot true>> But is it all a part of her plan to make me trust her? <</if>>\ \<<if $camilla_user is true>> I don’t really need to trust her, I'd be a fool to trust her. I could just as easily make her believe that I’m in on the plan and make my mind up about my own plans later when I know more. However, is that the wisest course of action? <</if>> [["No. I don't want to be a part of this."]] [["No. And I think you shouldn't put your life in danger either."]] [["Yes. I'm in."|c6_c_imin]]

Her hand squeezes the wine goblet even tighter. “He’s taken my family hostage. He already killed my father.” \<<if $dummy is true>> I remember her telling me that, yes. She seems to be telling the truth. \<<else>> Her story is familiar, the one that she’s told me before, but still I have the feeling that there’s something she’s not telling me. If she's a liar, she's an excellent one at that, because she's sticking to the same story without changing its details. <</if>>\ I give her a long, pondering look. Walls have ears and she’s putting her life in danger just for telling me the gist of her plan. But can I truly trust her? She does seem more approachable than she’s been ever before. \<<if $dummy isnot true>> But is it all a part of her plan to make me trust her? <</if>>\ \<<if $camilla_user is true>> I don’t really need to trust her, I'd be a fool to trust her. I could just as easily make her believe that I’m in on the plan and make my mind up about my own plans later when I know more. However, is that the wisest course of action? <</if>> [["No. I don't want to be a part of this."]] [["No. And I think you shouldn't put your life in danger either."]] [["Yes. I'm in."|c6_c_imin]]

She smiles in relief at my words. “You can make sure no one else gets hurt because of him. You can stop him.” I don’t want anyone else to get hurt. And if I could stop him… I give Camilla a careful glance. “We can stop him. Together.” I give her a long, pondering look. Walls have ears and she’s putting her life in danger just for telling me the gist of her plan. But can I truly trust her? She does seem more approachable than she’s been ever before. \<<if $dummy isnot true>> But is it all a part of her plan to make me trust her? <</if>>\ \<<if $camilla_user is true>> I don’t really need to trust her, I'd be a fool to trust her. I could just as easily make her believe that I’m in on the plan and make my mind up about my own plans later when I know more. However, is that the wisest course of action? <</if>>\ [["No. I don't want to be a part of this."]] [["No. And I think you shouldn't put your life in danger either."]] [["Yes. I'm in."|c6_c_imin]]

Disappointment taints her gaze as she looks at me. “I should’ve known you don’t have it in you.” I clench my jaw at the expected insult. Her demeanor shifts back to her usual rude self as she inspects her wine goblet, all but lost interest in me. I should probably go. I’ve soaked in here enough. But, before I can, Camilla fixes her sharp gaze on me. “One more thing,” she says, inching closer. [[She smiles like a predator.|the threat]]

Disappointment taints her gaze as she looks at me. “My life is none of your business, druid.” Of course she’d shoot the warning down. I don’t know why I even bothered with it. “I should’ve known you don’t have it in you,” she scoffs. Her demeanor shifts back to her usual rude self as she inspects her wine goblet, all but lost interest in me. I should probably go. I’ve soaked in here enough. But, before I can, Camilla fixes her sharp gaze on me. “One more thing,” she says, inching closer. [[She smiles like a predator.|the threat]]

\<<if $camilla_user is true>> Naturally, I would make her believe that we’re in this together. Most likely, she plans to throw me under the wagon. Not before I can do it first. \<<elseif $camilla_user isnot true>> Just as the words leave my mouth, I almost regret them. Everything about this woman screams that I shouldn’t trust her. <</if>>\ “Good little druidling.” She moves closer to me, as if to reward me for my obedience with her proximity. \<<if (($camilla_user is true) and ($oblivious isnot true))>> I brace for her closeness with a raised chin. Her weapon of choice is innuendo and sexual advances in order to make her target drop their shields. I’m not falling for it. \<<elseif (($camilla_user is true) and ($oblivious is true))>> I brace for her closeness with a raised chin. She’s extremely close for some reason. Another one of her tactics, most likely. \<<elseif (($camilla_user isnot true) and ($oblivious isnot true))>> She is extremely close. She’s flirting with me. \<<elseif (($camilla_user isnot true) and ($oblivious is true))>> She is extremely close. For some reason. <</if>>\ [[Continue|the plan]]

\<<set $camilla_plan to true>> “I will give you the key to the Legate’s villa. The Legate likes young men.” The corner of her lips twitch in slight disgust. “Are you telling me you want me to seduce him?” “I don’t care how you get the information. I just need to know where his club of anti-Imperial friends meet.” “But aren’t you against the Emperor, too?” “Let me do the thinking.” She smiles condescendingly. [["Cut with the attitude. We're equals."]] [[Take a deep breath, ignore her insults.|c6_c_ignoreinsults]]

\<<set $camilla_threat to true>> “If you tell anyone what I told you here today.” Her gaze moves lower to my lips. “I will kill you.” She leans ever closer. “And I won’t be swift with my blade.” \<<if $not_interested isnot true>> [["No need for threats. I won't tell anyone."|c6_c_nothreats]] [["Back off."|c6_c_backoff]] [[She's so close I could kiss her.|c6_c_kissher]] [[I'm slightly terrified.|c6_c_terrified]] \<<elseif $not_interested is true>> [["No need for threats. I won't tell anyone."|c6_c_nothreats]] [["Back off."|c6_c_backoff]] [[I'm slightly terrified.|c6_c_terrified]] <</if>>\

She snorts out an unbecoming laugh. Then, she looks at me, as if to make sure I’m serious. When I show no sign of backing down, she frowns. “If thinking that makes you perform better, then sure, whatever, we’re ‘equals’.” I take a deep breath, trying my best to not start another fight. She makes it ever so difficult. [[Continue|c6_c_info]]

Don’t give her a smackdown, not even a verbal one. Even if she'd deserve it. \<<if $camilla_user is true>> I need her, for now. \<<else>> This is her way of pushing me away. She’s really good at it, too, with that sour face and cruel words of hers. <</if>>\ [[Continue|c6_c_info]]

“Can’t you find the information yourself?” She rolls her eyes. “If I could, would I ask you to do it?” “For once, could you just say ‘no’ and be done with it?” “No.” When I still expect her to explain, she sighs. “We’re not on good terms right now, that buffoon and I. And he knows what I look like without my usual getup." \<<if (($dummy isnot true) and ($oblivious isnot true))>> Makes sense. However, that does raise an interesting question: “Are you actually going to sell out your own husband?” She smiles. “Maybe.” She leans in closer, closer to my ear and whispers: “Wouldn’t that make things easier for the both of us?” Her hot breath tickles my skin, her perfume overwhelms my senses. [["Please get away from me."|c6_c_stayaway]] [["That's ruthless of you." It's admirable.|c6_c_admirablehornyruthless]] [["That's ruthless of you." It's condemnable.|c6_c_noruthlessyeshorny]] \<<elseif (($dummy isnot true) and ($oblivious is true))>> [["Please get away from me."|c6_c_stayaway]] [["That's ruthless of you." It's admirable.|c6_c_admirablehornyruthless]] [["That's ruthless of you." It's condemnable.|c6_c_noruthlessyeshorny]] [["What do you mean?"|c6_c_wdymoblv]] \<<else>> Makes sense, however I wonder why she needs to find that out about the Legate? What does she intend to do with that information? Suddenly, I can feel Camilla’s breath on my skin; she’s moved closer to me. “You think so hard, it’s adorable," she whispers in my ear, her hot breath tickles my skin, her perfume overwhelms my senses. [["Please don't tease me."|c6_c_plsnotease]] [["I do my best."|c6_c_idomybest]] [[Retreat from her vicinity.|c6_c_retreat]] <</if>>\

And as a way to accentuate my point, I move away from her. In return, she gives me a knowing smile. “Not interested in my charms?” [["You're as charming as a toad."]] [["You're trying to use and seduce me."]] [["Not right now."]]

It's certain that she and Legate are not close but to think that she’s willing to sacrifice her own husband to further her plans is almost admirable. No, not almost. The level of determination is admirable. And she sees the meaning behind my words, she sees it from the smile creeping onto my lips. “You don’t mind,” she says. Her breath is intoxicating, her scent of saffron almost overpowering when sitting this close to her. She inhales in excitement. “I’m so glad to have found someone like you.” [["Still, please get away from me."|c6_c_stayaway]] [[See what happens.|c6_c_waitandsee]] [[Kiss her.|c6_c_kisscam]]

Even though they don’t seem close, it’s cruel of her to think about betraying her own husband. Why won’t she get a divorce if she loathes him so much? “Maybe. But do you claim to know the details?” she asks. I frown at the implication. Is she meaning to say that Legate is being cruel to her? She doesn’t elaborate. Instead, she nibbles at my ear, making me inhale sharply. [["Please get away from me."|c6_c_stayaway]] [[See what happens.|c6_c_waitandsee]] [[Kiss her.|c6_c_kisscam]]

She chuckles at the question. “You are adorable. Your brain is sharp but you’re still oblivious in other ways.” She nibbles at my ear, making me inhale sharply. “It’s utterly adorable.” She’s definitely coming onto me. [["Please get away from me."|c6_c_stayaway]] [[See what happens.|c6_c_waitandsee]] [[Kiss her.|c6_c_kisscam]]

She’s clearly bullying me. Just because I don’t know what she’s planning doesn’t make me worthy of teasing. “I can practically see your brain working overtime, trying to make sense of things.” Her voice is low, teasing, mocking, but there’s a dangerous allure to it all. I don’t want to be drawn to it but I can’t help it. [[See what happens.|c6_c_waitandsee]] [[Kiss her.|c6_c_kisscam]] [[Retreat from her vicinity.|c6_c_retreat]]

“I know you do. It’s one of your good traits.” She smiles and it seems genuine, and only slightly condescending. It feels good to be complimented, but with her, the compliments always seem to hold a layer of mockery within. Like she’s always in control, always in the know of what will happen and why. [[See what happens.|c6_c_waitandsee]] [[Kiss her.|c6_c_kisscam]] [[Retreat from her vicinity.|c6_c_retreat]]

Determined to get away from her and her games, I move away from her. In return, she gives me a knowing smile. “Not interested in my charms?” [["You're as charming as a toad."]] [["You're trying to use and seduce me."]] [["Not right now."]]

I warn her and she promptly obeys. But not before giving me a small smirk. She downs her goblet in one go and gets out of the pool. “I had a lovely bath with you, little druidling.” She says as she puts on her tunic and a cape. She turns to me with the same fake smile on her face. “Remember to keep your wits about.” With these words, she leaves the dress and wig onto the floor and disappears to the streets. [[Still, I hope she won't catch a cold.][$empathetic +=1]] [[I hope she'll catch a cold.|c6_c_hopeyoullcatchacoldbitch]] [[Ignore her.|c6_c_ignoreleaving]]

She backs down with a fake smile. “Good.” “You don’t need to worry.” “You do if you tell anyone.” I frown at another threat as she gets out of the pool. She ignores it. “I had a lovely bath with you, little druidling.” She says as she puts on her tunic and a cape. She turns to me with the same fake smile on her face. “Remember to keep your wits about.” With these words, she leaves the dress and wig onto the floor and disappears to the streets. [[Still, I hope she won't catch a cold.][$empathetic +=1]] [[I hope she'll catch a cold.|c6_c_hopeyoullcatchacoldbitch]] [[Ignore her.|c6_c_ignoreleaving]]

I know I shouldn’t think about her lips when she’s threatening to torture and kill me. I know I shouldn’t but I can’t help it. She knows I'm looking at her mouth, thinking about things that I shouldn't. The tip of her tongue licks her lips and I almost bite mine in response. [[Kiss her.|c6_c_kisscam]] [[Bite her.|c6_c_camillabitten]] [[I don't think we should.]]

\<<set $vappa to true>> She blinks, just once, before bursting out laughing. “A toad!” She half giggles, half snorts. “Thank you kindly for that, vappa.” “Did you just call me vinegar wine?” “If I’m a toad, you’re wine gone bad.” “Is wine constantly on your mind? Do you think you might have a problem?” “Shut it, vappa.” She takes her goblet from the edge of the pool, probably as a protest. “Shut it yourself, toad with a drinking problem.” Instead of getting insulted, she snickers to her goblet. “I like you,” she says, a rare smile lingering on her lips. For a moment, she looks as young as she actually is, and the scowling wall around her gives a glimpse of what I imagine to be her true self. Or, at least how she used to be. But the wall is back up as quickly as it came down, for she gives me the biggest grimace she’s managed to conjure up yet. “But don’t call me a frog again or I’ll skin you alive.” Alright then. She downs her goblet in one go and gets out of the pool. “I had a lovely bath with you, little druidling," she says as she's about to put her tunic and a cloak on. She turns to me with a smirk. “Remember to keep your wits about.” [["Wait, don't you want to put your dress on?"]] [[Let her leave.|c6_c_letherleave]]

She frowns at my words before sneering at her matron uniform. “You’d help?” \<<if $hati_bitten is true>> 'Especially after I just bit you,' her gaze seems to say. <</if>>\ “If you ask nicely.” A scoff. “Then, I’m off to the streets in my underwear. Watch me care.” “Isn’t that dangerous for you? Rumors might spread.” A sigh leaves her as she steps towards the expensive pile of silk and wool she’s discarded on the floor. “Fine. Put them on.” [[Press for the magic word 'please'.|c6_c_please]] [["Certainly."|c6_c_certainly]]

She quickly puts on her undergarment and the cloak that will act as a shield against starngers' gazes. The dress and the wig are left on the floor as she disappears to the streets. \<<if $hati_bitten is true>> And I'm left to tend to my bleeding lip. <</if>>\ [[Still, I hope she won't catch a cold.][$empathetic +=1]] [[I hope she'll catch a cold.|c6_c_hopeyoullcatchacoldbitch]] [[Ignore her.|c6_c_ignoreleaving]]

She smiles at the sight of fear in my gaze. “Good. We understand each other.” I give her a little nod and she backs down. I breathe out in relief when she gets out of the pool. “I had a lovely bath with you, little druidling.” She says as she puts on her tunic and a cape. She turns to me with a fake smile. “Remember to keep your wits about.” With these words, she leaves the dress and wig onto the floor and disappears to the streets. [[Still, I hope she won't catch a cold.][$empathetic +=1]] [[I hope she'll catch a cold.|c6_c_hopeyoullcatchacoldbitch]] [[Ignore her.|c6_c_ignoreleaving]]

\<<if $camilla_bitten is true>> It seems to take everything in her power to stop what she’s doing, to listen to me despite me hurting her and making her bleed. There’s still a grimace on her face as she looks at me, expecting an explanation. \<<else>> She tilts her head at my plea. There’s no disappointment in her gaze, only intrigue. She expects me to elaborate. <</if>>\ \<<if $cis isnot true>> [[“I don’t want anyone to touch me there.”]] [[“I just don’t want to.” I don't want anyone to touch me there.]] [[“I’m just not ready for that.”]] \<<else>> [[“I’m just not ready for that.”]] <</if>>\

\<<if $sex is “male”>> \<<set $dysphoria_penis to true>> \<<elseif $sex is “female”>> \<<set $dysphoria_vagina to true>> <</if>>\ “Never?” “Well, I… I don’t know. I just don’t feel comfortable with anyone touching me down there.” “I see.” She quickly gets off me and sits down next to me. She has more questions, I can see it in her eyes, but she hesitates. The topic is sensitive and it appears that she doesn’t know how to navigate it. Me neither, not right now. So, we sit in silence. But it’s a comfortable one at that. She doesn’t pry about the reasons behind my refusal. It’s preferable. I’m not sure if I want to talk about it right now. Not sure if she would even understand. I can feel her gaze on me. Her gaze is still intrigued but she will respect my privacy on the matter. “If you want to talk about it, I will listen.” I smile at the suggestion. “Thank you.” “You’re welcome, druid.” She gives me a quick smile before getting up. “Are you leaving?” “I’ve soaked enough. But…” She hesitates, as if unsure how she should express herself. Unusual for her. “But my door is open if you want to talk about… things.” I raise my brows at the sudden burst of kindness. “Shut it. I had a lovely bath with you, little druidling,” she says as she's about to put on her tunic and a cloak. “Remember to keep your wits about.” [["Wait, don't you want to put your dress on?"]] [[Let her leave.|c6_c_letherleave]]

\<<if $sex is “male”>> \<<set $dysphoria_penis to true>> \<<elseif $sex is “female”>> \<<set $dysphoria_vagina to true>> <</if>>\ “Truly?” “I can still–” I let my words linger, \<<if $camilla_bloodylip is true>> And she smiles as a response. Blood still drips from her open lip. \<<else>> And she smiles as a response. <</if>>\ “No, that won’t be necessary.” She gets off me and sits next to me. Silence lingers and it’s surprisingly comforting. She doesn’t pry about the reasons behind my refusal. It’s preferable. I’m not sure if I want to talk about it right now. Not sure if she would even understand. I can feel her gaze on me. Her gaze is still intrigued but she will respect my privacy on the matter. “If you want to talk about it, I will listen.” I smile at the suggestion. “Thank you.” “You’re welcome, druid.” She gives me a quick smile before getting up. “Are you leaving?” “I’ve soaked enough. But…” She hesitates, as if unsure how she should express herself. Unusual for her. “But my door is open if you want to talk about… things.” I raise my brows at the sudden burst of kindness. “Shut it. I had a lovely bath with you, little druidling,” she says as she's about to put on her tunic and a cloak. “Remember to keep your wits about.” [["Wait, don't you want to put your dress on?"]] [[Let her leave.|c6_c_letherleave]]

\<<set $asexual? to true>> \<<if $camilla_bitten is true>> “But you were ready to bite my lip off,” she says with her teeth still bared. “Your lip is still intact. Consider it an equalizer.” She scoffs but her muscles lose some of their tension. “Fine.” \<<else>> “Of course,” she merely states and gets off me. <</if>>\ “I can still–” I let my words linger. \<<if $camilla_bitten is true>> Blood still drips from her open lip as she looks at me. “You can still what? Bite my throat open?” Her words are sharp but her demeanor starts to soften. “Fucking animal,” she curses under her breath with a smile lingering on her torn lips. With that, she leaves the pool. \<<else>> And she smiles faintly as a response. “No, that won’t be necessary.” It’s a genuine smile, surprisingly honest. “Don’t fret,” she adds. Then, as if realizing that she’s wearing such a smile, she quickly stands up and leaves the pool. <</if>>\ “Leaving already?” “I’ve soaked enough. I had a lovely bath with you, little druidling," she says as she's about to put on her tunic and a cloak. She turns to me with a smirk. “Remember to keep your wits about.” [["Wait, don't you want to put your dress on?"]] [[Let her leave.|c6_c_letherleave]]

\<<set $hati_bitten to true>> So be it. Show me what’s supposed to happen. I look into her ferocious eyes and wait for her next move. And in turn, she looks at my lips, intrigue and hunger tainting her gaze. Slowly, with control, she leans in closer, closer to my lips. She smiles when I draw in breath in anticipation, taking pleasure in the power she holds over me. Danger creeps in her gaze. I don’t want to be drawn to her– She bites my lip. Sharp pain pierces me. \<<if $air is true>> I draw in sharp breath and shove her off me. I look at her, I look at the blood on my hand from my lip. And all the while she’s smiling, smiling through my blood on her lips. \<<if $water is true>> I shout and shove her off me. “Why?” I ask, even though there’s no answer she could give me that would satisfy me. And she gives me a smile. A smile through my blood on her lips. \<<if $fire is true>> “Fuck!” I shove her away from me instinctively. “You bit me!” She smiles at the accusation. “Yes.” She licks my blood off her lips. \<<if $earth is true>> I push her off me. It takes everything for me not to cuss at her, not to punch her, not to– She licks my blood off her lips with a smile on her face. <</if>>\ “What’s wrong with you?” My voice is hoarse and the question makes her smile even wider. \<<if $camilla_plan is true>> “It’s a bloodpact.” \<<elseif $camilla_threat is true>> “A payback for being such a coward.” <</if>>\ [["You're a maniac."|c6_c_maniac]] [[Kiss her hard as a revenge.|c6_c_revengekiss]]

She gasps mockingly, her red lips opening in an exaggerated manner. “I would never. My intentions are pure.” I let out a loud laugh and, in turn, she snorts. “They’re as pure as my heart is.” She downs her goblet in one go and gets out of the pool. “I had a lovely bath with you, little druidling," she says as she's about to put on her tunic and a cloak. She turns to me with a smirk. “Remember to keep your wits about.” [["Wait, don't you want to put your dress on?"]] [[Let her leave.|c6_c_letherleave]]

With a disdained scoff, she surrenders herself to me and the dress. Her back has scars, many of them. Small ones. They’re old, faded, it’s only because I’m so close to her that I can notice them. “Where did you get these?” Her muscles tense up. Just when I think she’s not going to answer, she says, “Childhood accident.” \<<if (($camilla_user is true) and ($dummy is true))>> I frown at the scars. There are so many of them that it’s difficult to imagine how one accident would’ve caused it. She might be lying. \<<elseif (($camilla_user isnot true) and ($dummy is true))>> I frown at the scars. There are so many of them that it’s difficult to imagine how one accident would’ve caused it. But if she says it is so… \<<else>> A lie. They’re burn marks and they seem to have been caused in multiple occurrences, they’re deliberate in their design. But she’s telling the truth about them happening in her childhood. <</if>>\ She clearly doesn’t want to talk about it, I won’t get any more information out of her just by asking. [[Continue|c6_c_helpher]]

“Is there a magic word you’re forgetting?” She bares her teeth at me before closing her eyes shut. “Fine. Please.” “It wasn’t that hard, wasn’t it?” “I swear to your gods and mine, I will leave.” “Fine, fine.” With a disdained scoff, she surrenders herself to me and the dress. Her back has scars, many of them. Small ones. They’re old, faded, it’s only because I’m so close to her that I can notice them. “Where did you get these?” Her muscles tense up. Just when I think she’s not going to answer, she says, “Childhood accident.” \<<if (($camilla_user is true) and ($dummy is true))>> I frown at the scars. There are so many of them that it’s difficult to imagine how one accident would’ve caused it. She might be lying. \<<elseif (($camilla_user isnot true) and ($dummy is true))>> I frown at the scars. There are so many of them that it’s difficult to imagine how one accident would’ve caused it. But if she says it is so… \<<else>> A lie. They’re burn marks and they seem to have been caused in multiple occurrences, they’re deliberate in their design. But she’s telling the truth about them happening in her childhood. <</if>>\ She clearly doesn’t want to talk about it, I won’t get any more information out of her just by asking. [[Continue|c6_c_helpher]]

I help her into her silken undertunic. My gaze skims on her skin, partly to get new information about her. There are some more scars on her body, newer, more irregular. “Did you get into a fight?” “Yes.” “With whom?” “I didn’t ask their names.” “Did you kill them?” She scoffs. “Why do you ask?” [["It seems unbecoming of a woman of your stature."|c6_c_stature]] [[It's a little daunting to think how accustomed she is to hurting people.|c6_c_daunting]] [["No reason."|c6_c_nevermind]]

“Then stop yapping,” she says, weariness lingering in her tone. Before I can leave her alone with my questions, however, there's still one thing to ask: [["Are you worried about Tinsae?"]]

I knew it, of course, but I didn’t know the extent of it. She speaks of killing so freely, without remorse, and it’s difficult to know if she’s being serious or if she’s putting up an act. “Are you judging me?” she asks. That is exactly what I’m doing but I don’t answer. She scoffs. She’s not going to justify herself to me. Perhaps I don’t expect her to. \<<if $determined is true>> It’s not as if I can claim to be on a high horse here, either. <</if>>\ She seems irritated by my questions. Before I can leave her alone, however, there's still one thing to ask: [["Are you worried about Tinsae?"]]

Fighting ruffians in dirty taverns. I may not be the one to judge but it seems irregular. She merely snorts out a laugh at my statement. “A woman of my stature should know how to defend herself.” “Don’t you have bodyguards?” She rolls her eyes at the question. “Bodyguards can be bought to look another way.” Speaking from experience? She seems irritated by my questions. Before I can leave her alone, however, there's still one thing to ask: [["Are you worried about Tinsae?"]]

She was angry at Camilla. For a good reason, I might add. “No,” she says. After a moment of silence she adds, “We’re used to each other's quirks.” They do seem like longtime friends. But the level of ruthlessness and rudeness Camilla acts upon is well beyond worth calling a quirk. I help her drape her stola properly, and she lets me clasp her brooch on her. She’s looking at nothing in particular, her mind clearly elsewhere. “The wig is pretty messy,” I say. “I’d look like an adulterer with a bedhead.” She smirks. “Scandalous.” It’s difficult to know from her tone if she truly cared what the others might think of her. \<<if (($camilla_sex is true) and ($loud_pervert is true))>> “Well, technically…,” I say, almost wiggling my brows at her to lighten up the mood. She snorts. “You’re an idiot,” she says, but the tone lacks the usual sharpness. \<<elseif (($camilla_sex is true) and ($shy_pervert is true))>> “Well, technically…,” I say, heat creeping up on my cheeks. She snorts. “Yes. Technically I am an adulterer and you’re my secret lover.” Apparently it is so. <</if>>\ She hides the wig beneath her cloak and starts off towards the door. \<<if $camilla_threat is true>> “Remember–” “Not a word to anyone else unless I want to be tortured and murdered by you, yes.” She gives me a playful smirk. “Exactly. Goodbye, druid.” \<<elseif $camilla_plan is true>> “I’ll send for you when the time is right,” she says, bringing my thoughts back to her plan. “Goodbye, druid.” <</if>>\ With these words, she’s gone. \<<if (($camilla_bitten is true) or ($hati_bitten is true))>> Only the scent of saffron and blood linger behind. \<<else>> The scent of saffron lingers behind. <</if>>\ [[Continue|Back at the barracks.]]

In a spout of rationality, I retreat from her vicinity. She bares her teeth as I flee. “Coward,” she accuses me with a smile on her lips. I shake my head at the half-hearted accusation, she doesn’t seem too surprised by my action. For some reason, I feel as though I saved myself from the embrace of the Red Thirst. She opens her blood-red lips in an exaggerated manner, as if confused by my reaction. “Please don’t look at me like that. My intentions are as pure as my heart.” She smirks and downs her goblet in one go and gets out of the pool. “I had a lovely bath with you, little druidling," she says as she's about to put on her tunic and a cloak. She turns to me with a smirk. “Remember to keep your wits about.” [["Wait, don't you want to put your dress on?"]] [[Let her leave.|c6_c_letherleave]]

Anger and arousal makes me bite down on her soft lip, to make her scream in pain, just like she threatened to make me scream. She doesn’t scream. To my disappointment, she only lets out a muffled curse before punching my chest with considerable force. “What the fuck?” She touches her lip and flinches at the sight of blood. With her teeth bared, she growls like a wounded animal. “You little shit.” She smashes her bloody lips against mine, invading my mouth with her tongue. “You piece of filth,” she repeats the insults in between the violent kisses. The taste of her blood spreads across my mouth as I pull her hair. Pain makes her snarl against my lips and it makes me smile against her lips. I could bite her again, make her– But before I can, she grabs my arms and straddles me with a sneer on her face. [["Don't touch me there."|c6_c_donttouch]] [[Let her continue.|c6_c_straddle]]

\<<set $hati_bitten to true>> I kiss her before I can think better. She smiles against my lips, as if she was expecting me to. She deepens the kiss before I have the chance to, making me moan in need. Pressure builds up in my groin, my breath becomes heavy and laborous. I– She bites my lip. Sharp pain pierces me. \<<if $air is true>> I draw in sharp breath and shove her off me. I look at her, I look at the blood on my hand from my lip. And all the while she’s smiling, smiling through my blood on her lips. \<<elseif $water is true>> I shout and shove her off me. “Why?” I ask, even though there’s no answer she could give me that would satisfy me. And she gives me a smile. A smile through my blood on her lips. \<<elseif $fire is true>> “Fuck!” I shove her away from me instinctively. “You bit me!” She smiles at the accusation. “Yes.” She licks my blood off her lips. \<<elseif $earth is true>> I push her off me. It takes everything for me not to cuss at her, not to punch her, not to– She licks my blood off her lips with a smile on her face. <</if>>\ “What’s wrong with you?” My voice is hoarse and the question makes her smile even wider. \<<if $camilla_plan is true>> “It’s a bloodpact.” \<<elseif $camilla_threat is true>> “A payback for being such a coward.” <</if>> [["You're a maniac."|c6_c_maniac]] [[Kiss her hard as a revenge.|c6_c_revengekiss]]

\<<set $camilla_sex to true>> As if she’s fighting for her life to regain power over me, she locks my arms against the wall of the pool all the while kissing me. \<<if $build is "muscular">> With some straining, I manage to free myself from her grasp. She breaks the kiss and looks at me with annoyance and intrigue coloring her heated gaze. “Fuck you,” she says. I squeeze her ass with my freed hands as a retort and smirk at the hate in her eyes. \<<else>> She’s surprisingly strong and I find myself unable to free myself from her grasp. She breaks the kiss and gives me a heated smirk. “Weak little shit,” she says. <</if>>\ \<<if (($sex is "male") and ($build isnot "muscular"))>> Just as I’m about to retort, she starts rubbing her clit against my already rock hard erection. I groan at the friction and she smirks at the sound. \<<elseif (($sex is "female") and ($build isnot "muscular"))>> Just as I’m about to retort, her fingers find my clit, making me groan. She smirks at the sound. \<<elseif (($sex is "male") and ($build is "muscular"))>> Then, she starts rubbing her clit against my already rock hard erection. I groan at the friction and she smirks at the sound. \<<elseif (($sex is "female") and ($build is "muscular"))>> Then, her fingers find my clit, making me groan. She smirks at the sound. <</if>>\ [[Pleasure her.|c6_c_reachforsomeclit]] [[Let her pleasure me.|c6_c_pleasuremecam]]

“I suppose I am.” Still she smiles, all too gleefully. Then, the smile turns into a smirk as she downs her goblet in one go and gets out of the pool. “I had a lovely bath with you, little druidling," she says as she's about to put on her tunic and a cloak. She turns to me with a smirk. “Remember to keep your wits about.” [["Wait, don't you want to put your dress on?"]] [[Let her leave.|c6_c_letherleave]]

I smash my lips against hers with such strength that she lets out a muffled shout against my bleeding lip. The sound makes me smile through the pain. My lip aches as the taste of my blood spreads to both of our mouths. She tenses up as I nibble at her lip in turn, reveling in the thought of biting her back, hurting her just as she hurt me. She'd deserve it and more. Before I can, however, she breaks the kiss and straddles me. [["Don't touch me there."|c6_c_donttouch]] [[Let her continue.|c6_c_straddle]]

She gives me a sultry smile. “Until next time, then.” She downs her goblet in one go and gets out of the pool. “I had a lovely bath with you, little druidling," she says as she's about to put on her tunic and a cloak. She turns to me with a smirk. “Remember to keep your wits about.” [["Wait, don't you want to put your dress on?"]] [[Let her leave.|c6_c_letherleave]]

Her hair is still wet and it's cold outside. \<<if $camilla_threat is true>> But, just as the thought crosses my mind, I snicker at it. She just threatened me with murder and torture. She might deserve to get a little cold. \<<elseif $hati_bitten is true>> But, just as the thought crosses my mind, I snicker at it. She just bit me like an animal with rabies, she might deserve to get a little cold. A shiver runs through me. Hopefully she doesn't actually have a rabies. \<<else>> She left in a hurry, too proud and too eager to leave on her own terms to ask for help with her dress. Most typical of her, even if I’ve only known her for a while. <</if>>\ Well, at least she left me with food and drinks. I can continue my bath in peace. [[Continue|Back at the barracks.]]

She left in a hurry, too proud and too eager to leave on her own terms to ask for help with her dress. Most typical of her, even if I’ve only known her for a while. Neverminding that, at least she left me with food and drinks. I can continue my bath in peace. [[Continue|Back at the barracks.]]

Her hair is still wet and it's cold outside. After all that happened, I hope that she’ll catch a cold. Such a nasty cold that she’d be left bedridden for a week, at least. I’d visit her just to ridicule her. Well, at least she left me with food and drinks. I can continue my bath in peace. [[Continue|Back at the barracks.]]

I surrender to her touch and she gives me a sly smile for it. \<<if $sex is "male">> Her gaze is glued to mine as she starts rocking her hips against my erection, never letting me penetrate her. She rides my cock almost angrily, as if she’s commanding me to climax. \<<elseif $sex is "female">> There’s only a slight sign of hesitation in her eyes before she manages to bury it beneath the bravado of certainty. Her gaze is glued to mine as she starts to rub my clit with fervor, substituting the lack of elegance and skill with sheer force of determination and confidence. Her touch is almost violent, as if she’s commanding me to climax. <</if>>\ She drinks in my reactions, my grunts of pleasure, my moans. Her own breathing becomes more laborious, encouraging me to give in. I sink my freed fingers into her flesh and she sneers at the pain. Water splashes as she restrains my arms once again, forbidding me to hurt her. I’m too close to orgasm to fight back. My short, heated gasps fill the empty room. She opens her red lips in anticipation, eager to see me come for her. “Are you coming, you dirty little barbarian?” she asks, her voice raspy with need. Her voice throws me over the edge as spasms of pleasure take over me. She looks at me the whole time, a pleased smirk lingering on her lips. [[Continue|c6_c_aftercare]]

My hand wanders lower on her, lower, aiming to find her– And she promptly stops my hand. “No,” she says. Her arm is strained and her hold on me is strong. She means it. “Later?” I ask, half hopeful, half teasing. “Don’t test your luck, barbarian.” “Fine.” [[Let her pleasure me.|c6_c_pleasuremecam]]

“Your moans sounded so sweet,” she purrs as she caresses my cheek. The gesture is surprisingly tender, almost sweet. However, her gaze still harbors the same layer of iciness that’s always been there, her smile is still forced. Did I expect it to change? [[Yes.|c6_c_justsex?]] [[No.|c6_c_justsex]]

\<<set $justsex_camilla to true>> This was just sex. Of course we both would know it. She gives me a small smile, a fake one, it doesn’t reach her eyes. “It’s good that we understand each other,” she says with her cold tone. “Indeed,” I say and wait for her to take her leave. She’s mentally prepared to leave, just as I am ready for her departure. “Until next time, then.” She downs her goblet in one go and gets out of the pool. “I had a lovely bath with you, little druidling," she says as she puts on her tunic and a cloak. She turns to me with a smirk. “Remember to keep your wits about.” [["Wait, don't you want to put your dress on?"]] [[Let her leave.|c6_c_letherleave]]

I find myself wanting to lean against her touch, trying to receive more warmth from her. And a part of me expected her to give me affection. \<<set $used_by_camilla to true>> \<<if $camilla_user is true>> Even if that is how I feel, I should’ve known better. I know she’s just using me, just as I’m using her. It’s only fair. This was just sex. Of course we both would know it. I should know it. \<<else>> But it is not so. She still looks at me in the same distant manner. Disappointment flashes through me as I realize that she might be just using me. Sex must be just a tool for her. <</if>>\ [["What's wrong?" she asks.|c6_c_what'swrong]]

\<<if $camilla_user is true>> “Nothing,” I say and I want to mean it. I can see that she doesn’t really believe me but she doesn’t pry, either. Maybe because she doesn’t really care. Well, I don’t care either. \<<else>> “Nothing,” I say without meaning it. I can see that she doesn’t really believe me but she doesn’t pry, either. Maybe because she doesn’t really care. And the thought makes me feel even more foolish. <</if>>\ I clench my jaw and hope for her to leave already. I think I’ve had enough of her presence. She gives me a long look. Finally, she says: “Don’t fret.” “I–” “Until next time.” She downs her goblet in one go and gets out of the pool. “I had a lovely bath with you, little druidling," she says as she's about to put on her tunic and a cloak. She turns to me with a smirk. “Remember to keep your wits about.” [["Wait, don't you want to put your dress on?"]] [[Let her leave.|c6_c_letherleave]]

\<<set $tinsae_bath to true>> Early winter wind freezes my wet hair to my scalp when I open the door. I cringe at the sensation and look for Tinsae, hoping that her place is close by. Or if she even has a bath to begin with. Hopefully I won’t have to bathe in the river. It’s too cold and the sentries have been active due to Germanic movements. I exhale in relief when I see Tinsae in her fur coat waiting for me. She doesn’t see me, her gaze is drawn to the Southern sky. I can’t see anything but dark gray clouds. It's going to snow soon. [[“Is Camilla always such an asshole?” I ask.|c6_t_asshole]] [["What are you looking at?"|c6_t_what]]

She flinches at my voice, most likely surprised that I’m here at all. She didn’t expect me to follow. She gives me a small smile. “No, not always. But she can be the worst.” Sometimes I wonder why Tinsae even is her friend. She looks almost as annoyed as I am, and it’s all because of Camilla. “Why are you her friend, anyway?” “I…” She sighs. “She has her moments.” “I haven’t seen even a glimpse of that.” The smile turns more wistful. “I hope you will.” Doubtful. [[Continue|c6_t_wethair]]

She flinches at my voice, most likely surprised that I’m here at all. She didn’t expect me to follow. Then, without turning to look at me, she says, “Home.” “Ethiopia?” She gives me a smile that harbors something I haven’t seen her wear before. Something akin to bitterness. Forlorn longing. “No.” “What, then?” “I feel like travelling to the South. I think I’ve seen enough North for the moment.” She wraps her coat tighter around her soft figure. “No offense, dear.” “None taken.” [[Continue|c6_t_wethair]]

Then, the smile fades as she looks at my wet hair. “I’m sorry you missed your bath.” I shake my head, avoiding looking back where Camilla is left soaking by herself. “It wasn’t your fault.” “I should’ve known she was planning something. She had that look on her face when she mentioned that she needed to bathe. //Now//.” She imitates Camilla’s demanding tone in an accurate way but it feels unfit for her usually kind tone. “I don’t have a bath in my apartment but there’s a barrel Caleb would be willing to fill for you, if that’s acceptable.” “Sure, anything goes.” With that, we start walking through the slosh. \<<if $sex is "female">> I didn’t have the time to get out of my itching bindings. She gives me a worried look. “They must hurt.” “I’ve grown used to it. It’s just that I was so sure I’d get them off. It makes them itch even worse.” “Soon you will. I will have Caleb fetch lotion that will help. I’m sure Niall will have something.” “Niall?” “He’s surprisingly adept at herbalism. One of his many good traits.” <</if>>\ The streets grow more dry when we enter the center of the town. \<<if $height is "short">> Tinsae slows down her walking pace for me to keep up with her. It’s kind of her. <</if>>\ Finally, we stop by what I can only imagine is her house. It’s a building with multiple floors. Three, to be exact. I've never stopped to look at it before. If anything, it looks concerning. Like it could topple over at any time. [[Continue|c6_t_tall]]

I say, “I thought you’d have more… luxurious place to live.” “I don’t need anything fancy when I’m not meeting with customers or associates. Besides,” she says with a quick smile, “this is only temporary.” Right. She will leave soon anyway. “It’s unusual for me to stay put for a full year,” she continues. “But Camilla….” She looks back where we came from, back where Camilla stayed put to bathe by herself. “She’s keeping you here? Why?” “I want to make sure she doesn’t get herself killed. And you, of course. Now that I know that both of you have a habit of getting yourself in trouble.” [["You have two wards now," I joke.|c6_t_wards]] [["I'm not in trouble."|c6_t_notrouble]] [["You don't have to worry about me."|c6_t_noworries]]

“You are in constant threat of getting murdered on the spot.” “Well, yes.” “I would call that trouble.” “Maybe," I say. “What’s with Camilla?” “She’s biting more than she can chew. As she often does.” If I didn’t know Tinsae’s mannerisms, I wouldn’t be able to tell that she seems tired. She masks it all too well. “What do you mean? Do you know of her plan?” She tightens her lips and looks around. “We can’t exactly talk about that out in the open.” “At your place?” She sighs. “I will tell you what I can.” “Why do you want to help her?” “She’s my friend. I have many but she’s… special, I suppose.” [["Special?" I try not to feel too jealous.|c6_t_jelly]] [[Remain silent and nod.|c6_t_nod]]

She lets out a dry laugh. The smile on her face grows more forced. It’s only because I’ve spent time with her quite a lot already that I can notice that. “You can be a handful.” I ask, “What’s with Camilla?” “She’s biting more than she can chew. As she often does.” If I didn’t know Tinsae’s mannerisms, I wouldn’t be able to tell that she seems tired. She masks it all too well. “What do you mean? Do you know of her plan?” She tightens her lips and looks around. “We can’t exactly talk about that out in the open.” “At your place?” She sighs. “I will tell you what I can.” “Why do you want to help her?” “She’s my friend. I have many but she’s… special, I suppose.” [["Special?" I try not to feel too jealous.|c6_t_jelly]] [[Remain silent and nod.|c6_t_nod]]

She sighs wearily. “But I do. I can’t just ignore your plight. Not while I’m still here.” “What’s with Camilla?” “She’s biting more than she can chew. As she often does.” If I didn’t know Tinsae’s mannerisms, I wouldn’t be able to tell that she seems tired. She masks it all too well. “What do you mean? Do you know of her plan?” She tightens her lips and looks around. “We can’t exactly talk about that out in the open.” “At your place?” She sighs. “I will tell you what I can.” “Why do you want to help her?” “She’s my friend. I have many but she’s… special, I suppose.” [["Special?" I try not to feel too jealous.|c6_t_jelly]] [[Remain silent and nod.|c6_t_nod]]

\<<if $fire is true>> A bang of jealousy makes me bite my lip, even if I try to prevent it. Tinsae lets out a light laugh and touches my cheek briefly, like a feather. “It’s nothing like that, I assure you.” Then, she cringes lightly at the thought. “But she can get into more trouble than the rest.” \<<elseif $earth is true>> I keep a straight face and ignore the bang of jealousy trying to get a reaction out of me. “It’s nothing like that, of course,” she says quickly. Then, she cringes lightly at the thought. “But she can get into more trouble than the rest.” \<<elseif $air is true>> I keep a straight face and ignore the bang of jealousy trying to get a reaction out of me. “It’s nothing like that, of course,” she says quickly. Then, she cringes lightly at the thought. “But she can get into more trouble than the rest.” \<<elseif $water is true>> A bang of jealousy makes me bite my lip, even if I try to prevent it. Tinsae lets out a light laugh and touches my cheek briefly, like a feather. “It’s nothing like that, I assure you.” Then, she cringes lightly at the thought. “But she can get into more trouble than the rest.” <</if>>\ “Just like you,” she says as her soft gaze inspects me. “I can survive from my troubles myself,” I say absentmindedly as I look at the tall building we’re about to enter. I hope she lives on the ground floor. “Of course you do.” A smile dances on her lips as she opens the door. We’re met with a hallway and stairs. [["I live on the 3rd floor."]]

Special in what way, I wonder? Not that it’s any of my business. Tinsae gives me a second look and quickly retracts her words. “I didn’t mean ‘special’ in that way. But she can get into more trouble than the rest.” “Just like you,” she says as her soft gaze inspects me. “I can survive from my troubles myself,” I say absentmindedly as I look at the tall building we’re about to enter. I hope she lives on the ground floor. “Of course you do.” A smile dances on her lips as she opens the door. We’re met with a hallway and stairs. [["I live on the 3rd floor."]]

“3rd?” I grimace at the thought. “Aren’t you afraid the house will topple over?” I’m not willing to put my life in the Romans’ hands. “No, dear. I don’t think it’ll topple over.” She gestures me to follow her and continues talking, “There are even taller buildings in the eternal city.” “In Rome?” I shudder at the thought. “How tall?” “8 stories is the tallest.” “8?!” I can’t even imagine a building that tall. It’s over twice as tall as this one. “And they won’t topple over?” “Well,” she hesitates. “Not often. They can collapse at times. Especially the ones that’ve been built illegally.” “People willingly live in an apartment complex that could collapse at any time?” “Many don’t have a choice in the matter,” she says and throws a quick smile at her neighbor who’s passing us by on the dim staircase. “But this is a legal building so I wouldn’t worry.” [[Continue|c6_t_tinhome]]

Caleb opens the door to her apartment before giving Tinsae a stern, silent nod. “Thank you, dear,” Tinsae says to him with a quick, easy smile and strouts to the kitchen. \<<if $sex is "female">> With that, Caleb’s off to fetch any lotion to help me with my skin. \<<elseif $sex is "male">> With that, Caleb’s off to give us privacy. Most likely, however, he’ll remain in the vicinity. <</if>>\ Tinsae shouts from the kitchen, “Are you in the mood for wine? Coffee?” “Coffee? That acidic poison I drank last time?” “Exactly!” [["Coffee."|c6_t_takeaseat][$tinsae_coffee to true]] [["Wine."|c6_t_takeaseat][$tinsae_wine to true]] [["Water."|c6_t_takeaseat][$tinsae_water to true]]

I take a seat on the couch that looks too beautiful to sit on. Different colors clash in the room but somehow they flow together in harmony. Roman decor dominates the room, one that I’ve seen in the Legate’s villa and elsewhere. Not surprising, it would be a headache to carry a load of her own furniture on her travels. But there are glimpses of other cultures, none of which I’m familiar with. Clashes of dishes draw my attention back to the kitchen. “Do you need help?” I ask. Soon enough, Tinsae scurries back to the living area. “No, thank you.” \<<if $tinsae_coffee is true>> She hands me the coffee with an apologizing look on her face. “Please don’t be offended by the taste. I had to reheat it.” “I doubt you could make the taste any worse.” She lets out a light laugh. “Why did you want some, if the taste offends you so?” “I’m a masochist by heart.” Another laugh, ever so light and songlike. Hearing it tugs at the corners of my mouth. I continue, “I thought you were going to roast the beans again. At least that smells good.” “Oh, no. It takes too long. It’s a nice little party trick when you don’t have a guest itching to get back to their respective bath. Speaking of…” \<<elseif $tinsae_wine is true>> She hands me a cup of mulled wine. I inhale its steam and sigh. It’s been a long day. “I didn’t mean to imply that I dislike the winter,” she’s quick to explain herself, seemingly just in case she offended me. “I adore the changing of seasons. It’s just… well. Wet and cold at the moment.” “That it is,” I say in understanding and sip my wine. It warms my senses. “In Caledonia, the winters are fierce. Not like here. Here it's wet and soggy. I don’t much care for it either.” “That’s a relief to hear. We can dislike the sogginess together.” \<<elseif $tinsae_water is true>> She hands me a cup of water with a warm, welcoming smile on her face. <</if>>\ She disappears into a room and returns with a wooden barrel in her tow, one that only one person would squeeze themselves in. She looks slightly embarrassed by her offering. [[Continue|c6_t_sorry]]

“I’m sorry, I don’t have the Roman villa standard of living here. No running water, no…” She rethinks her words, giving me a quick glance. I’m just a regular soldier, sleeping in the vicinity of seven snoring men. She continues, “You… might not be bothered by this but I have a habit of explaining myself.” I take another look around to spot glass vases and expensive-looking carpets. “I think the quality of life here is nice enough.” She lets out an embarrassed laugh when she gives a quick lookover of the room. “When you spend time with the richest men and women of the Empire, it can… Well, I’m sorry for the tangent. Anyway,” she says and dusts her hands onto her silken dress, leaving behind a stain of gray soot. \<<if $sex is "female">> “Caleb should be back soon enough, he will start to fill the bath.” \<<elseif $sex is "male">> “Caleb will fill the bath now. I will–” <</if>>\ “Is he going to fill it with buckets of river water or something?” I half joke but soon after realize that there’s no other way for him to fill it. “At least the river is close enough,” she says quickly. “Caleb is going to do that all by himself?” “Well, yes.” “That’s a lot of buckets.” Tinsae straightens her dress with an embarrassed smile on her face. It seems she doesn’t want to bother her bodyguard with such a request but it’s something that needs to be done in order for me to bathe privately. [["I should help him." It's the right thing to do.|c6_t_rightting]] [["I should help him." Anything for getting that bath done faster.|c6_t_faster]] [["We have some time to kill, then."|c6_t_timetokill]]

“As we wait, I’d like you to meet my dearest Alitash. She should be around here somewhere.” “Your cat?” “The very same. She’s elusive, she lives her own life despite me wanting to be a part of it.” She lets out an embarrassed laugh. “She does find her way in my lap when I most need her.” “You don’t exactly need her now.” She sighs in defeat. “I know. She’s out hunting rats and mice.” Alitash deemed Tinsae and I unworthy of a visit for today. Tinsae kept chirping on the balcony for her cat to arrive, but there was not a sight of him. Ignored by her cat, Tinsae sighs in defeat. In the meantime, Caleb worked like a horse with the buckets. He carried multiple at a time without a peep of complaint. [[Continue|c6_t_barrel]]

I can’t let that poor man carry all those buckets all alone because of me. “Oh, no, you shouldn’t strain yourself.” “Tinsae. I’m a soldier. I’ve dug and refilled and dug again dozens of ditches by now. A couple of buckets is nothing.” \<<if (($build is "muscular") or ($build is "average"))>> “You are right, of course,” she says. “I’m used to conversing with people with lighter figures than yourself. The ones who are not prone to physical labor.” I try not to feel too proud over her appreciation and roll up my sleeves. “Where are your buckets?” Caleb doesn’t protest, he merely gives me a quick lookover before proceeding to work. Probably to see if I’m going to be of help or in the way. And, indeed, I’m not in the way. We end up carrying the necessary buckets speedily. Caleb gives me an appreciative nod and a grunt to accompany it. He speaks my language and I answer in kind. I could swear there’s a tiny smile tugging at the corner of his lip. Or it could be the light of the brazier. \<<elseif $build is "lithe">> And I give her a hurt pout in response. “They’re stronger than they look like.” “Oh no. I’m sorry, I didn’t mean to doubt your prowess. Of course you’re used to manual labor, given your profession.” “That’s right.” With my pride a little hurt, I proceed to fetch the buckets with Caleb. Caleb doesn’t protest, he merely gives me a quick lookover before proceeding to work. Probably to see if I’m going to be of help or in the way. And I end up being a little more on the way than to help him. He carries multiple buckets at a time, grunting in annoyance if I happen to block his path with my one bucket half filled with water. “It’s been a long day at the fort,” I say in my defense. And he grunts in annoyance as a response. In the end, I end up heating up the water as he brings more water for the hungry barrel. <</if>> [[Continue|c6_t_barrel]]

“Oh, no, you shouldn’t strain yourself.” “Tinsae. I’m a soldier. I’ve dug and refilled and dug again dozens of ditches by now. A couple of buckets is nothing.” \<<if (($build is "muscular") or ($build is "average"))>> “You are right, of course,” she says. “I’m used to conversing with people with lighter figures than yourself. The ones who are not prone to physical labor.” I try not to feel too proud over her appreciation and roll up my sleeves. “Where are your buckets?” Caleb doesn’t protest, he merely gives me a quick lookover before proceeding to work. Probably to see if I’m going to be of help or in the way. And, indeed, I’m not in the way. We end up carrying the necessary buckets speedily. Caleb gives me an appreciative nod and a grunt to accompany it. He speaks my language and I answer in kind. I could swear there’s a tiny smile tugging at the corner of his lip. Or it could be the light of the brazier. \<<elseif $build is "lithe">> And I give her a hurt pout in response. “They’re stronger than they look like.” “Oh no. I’m sorry, I didn’t mean to doubt your prowess. Of course you’re used to manual labor, given your profession.” “That’s right.” With my pride a little hurt, I proceed to fetch the buckets with Caleb. Caleb doesn’t protest, he merely gives me a quick lookover before proceeding to work. Probably to see if I’m going to be of help or in the way. And I end up being a little more on the way than to help him. He carries multiple buckets at a time, grunting in annoyance if I happen to block his path with my one bucket half filled with water. “It’s been a long day at the fort,” I say in my defense. And he grunts in annoyance as a response. In the end, I end up heating up the water as he brings more water for the hungry barrel. <</if>> [[Continue|c6_t_barrel]]

Finally, the barrel is filled with warm water. Seemingly out of habit, Tinsae pours some scented oil into the water. “I didn’t ask if you want this,” she says in embarrassment when she realizes what she did. “Now you will bathe in a scent of roses.” \<<if $hobby_fashion is true>> “I don’t mind at all. The scent of roses seems to be in fashion this fall.” She gives me a small smile. “It is. But I adore the scent of roses in any other season as well.” She adds, “I didn’t know you were interested in fashionable things.” I look at my dirty clothes. One wouldn’t think so, no. “I’m not judging, my dear. It’s just nice to get to know you more.” She ponders on her next words, giving me a sly look. “Niall is really knowledgeable about these things. Have you talked to him about it?” “Not really,” I say with a small, slightly confused smile. “You should. It pays to have friends in this place.” “I have you, don’t I?” She gives me another smile but it’s almost uneasy this time. “Sure, dear. You do.” \<<elseif $herbalist is true>> “Roses?” I inhale the sweet scent and notice a tone of something else. “Not just that. Is that honey and cardamom?” She tilts her head in appreciation. “Why, yes. You know your scents.” “I’m interested in herbs and such. Comes with the territory.” “Impressive. Have you had a chance at talking with Niall about that?” “No,” I say with a small, slightly confused smile. “You should. It pays to have friends in this place.” “I have you, don’t I?” She gives me another smile but it’s almost uneasy this time. “Sure, dear. You do.” \<<else>> “I’m not the biggest fan of perfume but I’ll manage.” “Again, I’m sorry. Niall recommended this mix of oil to me and I poured it without a thought. Have you talked to Niall a lot?” “No?” “You should. It pays to have friends in this place.” “I have you, don’t I?” She gives me another smile but it’s almost uneasy this time. “Sure, dear. You do.” <</if>>\ I frown at her sudden words. Is this about her leaving? \<<if $dummy is true>> She’s trying to get me new friends, that much is clear. But why? \<<else>> She’s probably trying to get me fixed up with someone else so she doesn’t feel like she’s abandoning me when she leaves. The thought makes me uneasy. <</if>>\ Neverminding that, I should just get into the bath now. [[Just take the clothes off.|c6_t_confidentstrip]] [[Hesitate.|c6_t_hesitate]]

“He’s fine. Strong-willed and loud, as babies ought to.” “What will happen to him?” “He will hopefully be adopted into a family that wants him. I’ve made sure that the staff knows how to check if a family is fit for adoption.” She ponders for a moment, seemingly unsure if she should clarify her words. “Or if they have nefarious things in mind.” I frown at the notion. “Is that common?” “I like to think that it’s not,” she says with a small grimace. “But people can be...” The grimace deepens. The baby lying on the cold ground must not be the worst she’s seen in her career. “You must’ve seen the worst of humanity in your line of work.” My words are solemn. I’m not sure if I could handle that. “I cannot claim otherwise. But I try to focus on what I can do instead of what I can’t. I can help.” The smile grows back wearily. “Every child taken into one of my orphanages is a child with a brighter future ahead of them. They are free, they will be taught how to read and write. I… try my best.” Weariness weighs heavily in her words. She sounds almost unsure of herself. “Don’t you think it’s enough?” I ask. “It takes patience to see the results. Patience that I sometimes lack. There are still so many atrocities committed by this world, by humans, and nothing seems to change.” Spoken like a woman who’s taken the weight of the world upon her shoulders. [[“I think you’re admirable and what you’re doing is more than enough.”]] [["What else could you do?"|c6_t_whatelse?]]

I waste no time getting out of my clothes. \<<if $loud_pervert is true>> Tinsae turns her back to me as a gesture of good will. “You could’ve just watched, I wouldn’t have minded.” She laughs. “You’re a fiend,” she says with her back still turned. She doesn’t turn to give me even a peek. \<<elseif $shy_pervert is true>> Tinsae turns her back to me as a gesture of good will. “You didn’t have to turn away…,” I say. She merely lets out a playful laugh. Despite my words, she doesn’t turn to give me even a peek. \<<else>> I didn’t even have the time to decide if I care if Tinsae looks or not before her back is already turned to me. It’s nice enough of a gesture, giving me privacy when I’ve rarely had any. Life in the barracks is a communal way of living. Too much so, for my tastes at times. <</if>>\ Swiftly I take off my tunic and slip into the barrel, enveloping myself in the scent of roses and rich sweetness. The water temperature is just right. I take a deep, satisfied breath and sink deep inside the barrel. This is exactly what I needed. \<<if $sex is "female">> I sigh and start peeling the bindings off. It hurts, I haven’t had the chance to change them in a good while. I try to keep them as clean as I can but there have been more sentries lurking along the riverbed recently. Finally, my skin is free. I take a deep breath and smile, the feeling of freedom without the bindings obstructing my breathing is exhilarating. The skin itches and aches but I’m so glad to be rid of the dirty wrappings. <</if>>\ “Are you quite ready?” “Yes.” She turns around and sits with grace and poise on the small couch that Caleb brought her. Instead of a smile that I expected to see on her face, there’s a regretful frown. “I wish I would’ve known sooner about your situation. I could’ve–” “It’s fine. I didn’t want anyone else to know. I didn’t know who to trust.” She nods. “Of course. I don’t blame you. I guess I blame myself for not realizing sooner.” “It’s good for my chances of survival that you didn’t realize.” I look at the water, pondering. “I wonder how Camilla found out.” Tinsae lets out a heavy sigh. “She has spies.” “Literal spies?” “She’s… Yes. Her family is well off. That is how she chooses to use her funds.” Why am I not surprised? “Knowledge is an important commodity, I know that all too well. However, how she chose to go about it with you was unacceptable.” “You deal with knowledge?” “I’m not a spymaster or anything of the sort,” she says with a light giggle. “But it pays to know people and their secrets. It gives you leverage.” “That sounds almost ruthless of you.” “I’m not out there distorting people.” She smiles as she makes herself more comfortable on the couch, sipping on her coffee. “But the right word at the right time might change the outcome of a business decision.” Business. She has a lot of that. [["How do you manage so much work?"]]

Before I can even ask for her to turn around, her back is already facing me. I give her a small, grateful smile. She reads my needs with precision and answers them promptly. Swiftly I take off my tunic and slip into the barrel, enveloping myself in the scent of roses and rich sweetness. The water temperature is just right. I take a deep, satisfied breath and sink deep inside the barrel. This is exactly what I needed. \<<if $sex is "female">> I sigh and start peeling the bindings off. It hurts, I haven’t had the chance to change them in a good while. I try to keep them as clean as I can but there have been more sentries lurking along the riverbed recently. Finally, my skin is free. I take a deep breath and smile, the feeling of freedom without the bindings obstructing my breathing is exhilarating. The skin itches and aches but I’m so glad to be rid of the dirty wrappings. <</if>>\ “Are you quite ready?” “Yes.” She turns around and sits with grace and poise on the small couch that Caleb brought her. Instead of a smile that I expected to see on her face, there’s a regretful frown. “I wish I would’ve known sooner about your situation. I could’ve–” “It’s fine. I didn’t want anyone else to know. I didn’t know who to trust.” She nods. “Of course. I don’t blame you. I guess I blame myself for not realizing sooner.” “It’s good for my chances of survival that you didn’t realize.” I look at the water, pondering. “I wonder how Camilla found out.” Tinsae lets out a heavy sigh. “She has spies.” “Literal spies?” “She’s… Yes. Her family is well off. That is how she chooses to use her funds.” Why am I not surprised? “Knowledge is an important commodity, I know that all too well. However, how she chose to go about it with you was unacceptable.” “You deal with knowledge?” “I’m not a spymaster or anything of the sort,” she says with a light giggle. “But it pays to know people and their secrets. It gives you leverage.” “That sounds almost ruthless of you.” “I’m not out there distorting people.” She smiles as she makes herself more comfortable on the couch, sipping on her coffee. “But the right word at the right time might change the outcome of a business decision.” Business. She has a lot of that. [["How do you manage so much work?"]]

“The orphanage, the shop... And you soft-soap the insufferable upper class with sticks up their butts,” I ask as I start washing the weeks of grime out of me. She lets out a bright laugh. “They don’t have sticks up there. At least that’s what I tell them in order to maintain our relationships.” “We’re all alone. You can tell me what you really think.” I smirk. “Yes, we are.” She sighs with a smile. “Most of the time, I enjoy my work. And when I don’t, I try to do something to get my mind off things. Like… Embroidery.” “How grandmotherish of you.” “No, it’s not!” She purses her lips in defeat. “Even if it is, it’s relaxing. It takes my mind off things that I’d rather not think about.” She gives me a glance. “What do you do in your free time?” I don’t have that much free time. And when I do, I pray to the Twins. [["Would you teach me some embroidery?"]] [["I pray, mostly."|c6_t_pray]] [["I go to the tavern to mope."|c6_t_tavernmope]]

She lets out a light laugh. “Do you happen to stumble upon Camilla often?” “Not often, no. But I’ve seen her try to start fights every now and then.” Instead of a laugh, a tired sigh leaves her. “Of course you have.” “She’s pretty good at hand to hand combat, I wouldn’t have thought.” “She had to practice in order to defend herself.” I tilt my head at her words. “From who?” “Oh, no, no one in particular. Just… anyone, really.” “Doesn’t she have bodyguards for that? Why would she need to–” “They don’t follow you everywhere, dear. It’s useful to know how to defend yourself,” she says and gets up. ‘The matter is solved, don’t ask anymore questions,’ the gesture implies. Without entertaining any more of my questions, she proceeds to add more coal to the brasero near me. The thankful heater gulps up the coals and continues to bring us warmth for the chilly winter afternoon. [[Continue|c6_t_headmassage]]

She gives me an understanding nod. “Of course. Do you use incense for your prayers? Do you need any from my collection?” “No, I have a candle. Twins don’t require anything fancy.” They don’t require much at all these days, since nothing works anyway. “Where do you pray? There’s hardly any privacy in the barracks, I imagine.” “There’s this closet…” I cringe at the thought. To conduct the ultimate act of my faith in a dirty closet. But it will do. Floyd has made sure I can be there in peace. “Oh, darling. I’m so sorry.” She purses her lips in thought. “If you want to, I could give you the keys to the temple of Isis and–” “Absolutely not.” I shoot down the suggestion without hesitation. “To pray to the Twins in an altar meant for another is blasphemous.” “I see.” She doesn’t look offended by my harsh words. She looks more frustrated that there’s nothing much she can do to help me with my situation. With a sigh, she gets up to add more coal to the brasero near me. The thankful heater gulps up the coals and continues to bring us warmth for the chilly winter afternoon. [[Continue|c6_t_headmassage]]

“Are you going to tell me about Camilla’s plan now? She gives me a strained smile. “Ah. I suppose I did tell you that I would. I wouldn’t tell you this if she didn’t put your life in danger already. She…” She shifts uncomfortably in her seat. “She has plans of assassinating the Emperor. And, naturally, I’m firmly against it.” “The Emperor?” That’s either extremely foolish of her or extremely brave. Or both. Oh, to kill the God Emperor. \<<if $manipulated is true>> I frown at the sudden intrusive thought. <</if>>\ She nods, inspecting my features. “The very Emperor who’s responsible for what happened to you,” she says, knowing exactly where my thoughts went. “Do you find her plan foolish?” “Does she even have a plan?” “I’m not interested in the finer details of her plan. I don’t want any part of it,” she says quickly. And it’s no wonder she wouldn’t want that. The sentence for plotting the death of the Emperor is cruel and bloody. When it comes to torture and death sentences, Romans let their imagination fly free. She asks, “Do you think that the Emperor should die?” She knows about my history, no wonder she would ask. “Yes,” I say without hesitation. He’s a man who’s responsible for countless deaths. “But should he die by your hands?” she asks. [["I'm not sure."|c6_t_notsure]] [["Yes."|c6_t_yes]] [["No." It's the truth.|c6_t_notruth]] [["No." It's a lie.|c6_t_nolie]]

“I do,” she answers honestly. “I’ve met him and he’s a cruel man, a man of no virtue. His honeyed words are filled with venom as he murders those who he deems the enemies of the Empire. But I wouldn’t be willing to lay down my life for the cause for another would take his place.” “But maybe the future Emperor would be better.” Or maybe the godless Empire would finally fall. It’s a hopeless dream of mine but a beautiful one nonetheless. “Maybe…,” she admits. Then, she squeezes her eyes tight. Only briefly. “No,” she retracts her admission. “It wouldn’t be worth it. There has to be another way to make a change in this world.” “How would you change it?” “By helping people. That must be the better way. Helping people so they, in turn, help those in need.” [["It's a beautiful thought."|c6_t_beautiful]] [["It's naive."|c6_t_naive]] [[I don't know what to think about that.|c6_t_dunno]]

One one hand, I want him to die. But I’m not sure if I could ever be the one to do it. She gives me a relieved nod. “Good. There is yet sense in you,” she jokes but there’s a sense of weariness in her tone. “Did you think that I would jump at the opportunity and join forces with Camilla?” She visibly shudders at the thought. “Please don’t even joke about that.” I look at her, pondering on her words. Her reasoning for not killing the Emperor doesn’t involve her defending the Emperor’s virtue or the worth of his life. She just doesn’t want me or Camilla to die at the attempt. [["Do you think that he should die?" I ask.]]

Disappointment flashes through her gaze. Her shoulders tense up as she looks at me. There are now two would-be-emperor-assassins in her friend group. She’d clearly rather have none. “You would die at the attempt,” she says and she’s right. No one kills the Emperor and gets away with it. Not unless you have a scapegoat. But her reasoning for not killing the Emperor doesn’t involve her defending the Emperor’s virtue or the worth of his life. She just doesn’t want me or Camilla to die at the attempt. [["Do you think that he should die?" I ask.]]

I give her a smile. “It’s a beautiful thought. I hope you succeed in your mission.” \<<if $determined is true>> I will not follow her in her quest of light, for I have my own road to take. But I can appreciate the beauty of kindness when I see it. \<<else>> I almost wish I could join her road. It sounds more peaceful than what my broken mind has in store for me. “You’re troubled,” she states. “It’s just… A beautiful thought,” I repeat the sentiment. <</if>>\ I contemplate on her words with my gaze elsewhere. [[I should talk about this with Camilla. I could help her.|c6_t_camillahelp]] [[I should use this against Camilla.|c6_t_use]] [[I won't touch this plan with a ten foot pole.|c6_t_won'ttouch]]

But I don’t say it to her face. It would be too cruel. She will learn in time that no amount of helping people will change this world that is so ugly with cruelty. I contemplate on her words with my gaze elsewhere. [[I should talk about this with Camilla. I could help her.|c6_t_camillahelp]] [[I should use this against Camilla.|c6_t_use]] [[I won't touch this plan with a ten foot pole.|c6_t_won'ttouch]]

I can only shrug at her sentiment for I don’t know what to make of it. She doesn’t seem to mind, she didn’t expect me to take part in her musings. I contemplate on her words with my gaze elsewhere. [[I should talk about this with Camilla. I could help her.|c6_t_camillahelp]] [[I should use this against Camilla.|c6_t_use]] [[I won't touch this plan with a ten foot pole.|c6_t_won'ttouch]]

If she’s truly against the Emperor, we might be able to team up. I don’t trust her but the enemy of my enemy could potentially be my friend. “$name,” Tinsae’s voice brings me back. “Promise me you won’t entertain the idea. It would only end in blood.” [["I can't promise that."|c6_t_cantpromise]] [["I will." I lie.|c6_t_liewill]]

\<<set $camilla_user to true>> I’m not sure how, yet, but if the Emperor truly is on the way, it would serve me to know that there’s an assassination plan in the making. However, Tinsae won’t be happy about that. She’s her friend, after all. Do I care? I’m not sure. At least I should act discreetly about this. I can’t exactly go and announce her plans to anyone. Not yet. “$name,” Tinsae’s voice brings me back. “Promise me you won’t entertain the idea. It will only end in blood. Yours and many others’.” “I promise,” I say without hesitation. Lies leave me easily when I put my mind into it. And she lets out a relieved exhale. She really wants to believe me. [[Continue|c6_t_religion]]

It reeks of foolishness. Tinsae is in the right for staying out of it. \<<if $determined is true>> Even if my goal is to have my revenge, I won’t do it by putting my trust blindly in Camilla. It would be foolish on my part. She seems like a woman who’d sacrifice me on the altar of her revenge. \<<else>> I’m not here to kill emperors. I’d rather not even talk about such plots since that’s just one way I could get killed. I have many of those already, I don’t need any more of them. <</if>>\ [[Continue|c6_t_religion]]

\<<if $hobby_fashion is true>> “I actually know the basics of cross-stitching.” She gives me a delighted gasp of awe. “Wonderful.” “Just the basics, mind you. My studies took the bulk of my time.” “Of course, dear. I can’t claim to be the master of the craft either. But it’s nice to see that we have common interests.” \<<else>> “I’m not that interested in clothing but I’m interested in getting to know you better.” I give her a small smile. “And I greatly appreciate it, dear.” <</if>> She gets up to add more coal to the brasero near me. The thankful heater gulps up the coals and continues to bring us warmth for the chilly winter afternoon. [[Continue|c6_t_headmassage]]

I rest my head against the edge of the barrel and take in the warm water. The added warmth from the heater makes me close my eyes in contentment. No sounds can be heard from the neighbors, Tinsae seems to live alone on the top floor. It’s peaceful. I don’t even have to worry about anyone barging into the room uninvited. The scent of roses is an added pleasure that almost makes me fall asleep. Suddenly, Tinsae touches my hair. [[Yelp in surprise.|c6_t_yelp]] [[I lean into her touch. It's nice.|c6_t_nice]]

And Tinsae yelps as a reaction as her hands fly off from my hair. “I’m sorry, darling, I should’ve asked first. You looked so cozy, I wanted to give you more pleasure.” \<<if $loud_pervert is true>> “More pleasure? You’re fondling the wrong head.” Tinsae’s eyes widen at my words. Then, she bursts out laughing. “You’re a menace! I meant to give you a head massage and comb your hair.” “Fine, that’ll do.” Still giggling, she gestures to me to sit back down and let her proceed with the head fondling. \<<elseif $shy_pervert is true>> “Huh?” The word ‘pleasure’ makes my mind race to everywhere at once, none of which are fit for a polite conversation. Tinsae gives me a quick, confused glance. Then, she bursts out laughing. “I meant to give you a head massage and comb your hair.” “Oh. Oh! That makes more sense, yes." \<<else>> “Pleasure?” I frown in confusion. “Head massage.” She shows me the comb in her hand. “And a comb of your hair to accompany it.” I touch my hair absent-mindedly. Maybe it needs that. “Sorry, I’m still a little on edge. This…” I gesture at my naked form. “Is much to get used to after the long time of hiding myself.” “Of course, dear, I should’ve thought it through. Do you mind?” she asks as she gestures at my hair once more. “Go ahead.” I can’t find any fault in a head massage. Maybe that’s what I need right now. <</if>>\ She starts massaging my scalp. Her touch is careful, yet firm. The scent of her floral perfume mixes pleasantly with the rose water. I breathe in deeply, enjoying the sensation on my scalp. I close my eyes and get lost in the moment of peace. [[Continue|c6_t_massage]]

\<<if $loud_pervert is true>> “Ah, that feels nice,” I commend her. She laughs in response. “I haven’t even started.” “Just preparing myself mentally for the pleasure to come.” I can almost hear her playful eyeroll. \<<elseif $shy_pervert is true>> Silently, I appreciate her touch, trying to contain my tingles of anticipation. Whatever she has in store for me, I’m ready. \<<else>> With a smile, I close my eyes and prepare myself for whatever she has in store for me. <</if>>\ [[Continue|c6_t_massage]]

As she wets my hair, she starts humming a song that is not known to me. “What’s the song?” I ask. “A lullaby. From my childhood.” “So am I a child?” She lets out a giggle that almost sounds like a song itself. “No, but your inner child might need to hear it.” My inner child. The scar on my chest tickles. “Mother never sang me lullabies,” I say, only half aware that I’m talking out loud. Talking about my mother doesn’t seem to fit the situation. I shouldn’t think about her right now. “Mine neither.” “What was she like?” Her touch becomes more rigid as she seemingly ponders on the question. Finally, she says, “A stern woman. Dedicated to her cause.” “Mine, too.” She doesn’t ask further questions and I find myself relieved. Neither of us seem keen on exploring the topic of our maternal figures. Gradually, her touch relaxes and she continues to sing in a low, light voice. I focus on her touch, her singing. The song leaves her lips effortlessly, like she knows it by heart. I’m a melted wax candle under the water, my limbs completely relaxed. [["How did you end up as a priestess?" I ask.]]

The question is meant to fill the silence after her song ended, even if I don’t feel the need to. The topic is of interest to me, however. She’s a sister of faith even if our gods are not the same. “I was the acolyte priestess for Isis and Taweret. Serving the gods has always been in our family’s blood.” “But you’re not a priestess anymore.” Sensing a story, I turn to look at her. “How did you end up traveling the world?” There’s a small, practiced smile on her face. But it’s all too clear that she doesn’t feel like smiling. “Something happened that made me leave. I had to leave.” She didn’t answer my question. Heavy silence lingers as she continues to massage my scalp. I close my eyes again, trying to ignore the change in the air. She clearly doesn’t want to– “I lost my baby,” she says and her voice cracks. She clears her throat before continuing. “I lost my baby years ago and devoted my life to Taweret, to spread her message of kindness to all the mothers and children in this world. I couldn’t have done it in her temple alone. I needed to travel.” "I'm sorry," I say, not sure how else to react to the news. [["I'm so sorry," I repeat.|c6_t_sorry1]] [["How did you lose your baby?"|c6_t_how?]] [["Did Taweret tell you that personally?"]]

Again, I turn to face her, to face all of her grief. She gives me a weak, weary smile. “Thank you.” She doesn’t add anything else and she doesn’t need to. The wound still sounds fresh even if her loss happened years ago. I wonder if such wounds ever truly heal. [[Continue|c6_t_continue]]

“Please don’t ask me that.” Her voice tightens. “Oh, sorry.” Maybe not the best question to ask. Not right now. I should let her tell me that on her own terms. The wound still sounds fresh even if her loss happened years ago. I wonder if such wounds ever truly heal. She shakes her head and doesn’t say that it’s fine or something of the sort. It wouldn’t be the truth. She doesn’t want to talk about this. [[Continue|c6_t_continue]]

She sighs in relief when my question doesn’t involve her lost child. The wound still sounds fresh even if her loss happened years ago. I wonder if such wounds ever truly heal. “I heard her whispers in the wind, saw her shadow in the hazy air of incense. I knew what I had to do.” I give her a firm nod. When you receive a message from your gods, you know. \<<if $doubter is true>> Probably. At least, that’s what I imagine it to feel like. Mine just ignore me. <</if>> [[Continue|c6_t_continue]]

“I left in the darkness of the night and I’ve never once looked back. My home is the road, as it should be. As it should have always been.” She seems uneager to linger on the subject of grief. Instead, she takes a bone-white comb and starts untangling my hair. Gently, she forces me to regain my position with me not facing her. \<<if $short_hair is true>> There’s not an awful lot to untangle but, nevertheless, it feels nice to let her fuss over me. [["Your life sounds lonely," I say.|c6_t_lonely]] \<<elseif $forced_short_hair is true>> There’s not an awful lot to untangle but, nevertheless, it feels nice to let her fuss over me. “My hair was longer before,” I say. “Did you have to cut it for the army?” “I wanted to fit in. I was scared that I would be found out if I didn’t. I guess I miss it. My hair.” It seems silly to mull over such frivolities after Tinsae shared her grief just a moment ago. “I mean, it’s not that big of an issue and–” “It is,” she says sternly. “Hair is an important part of the image. Not just that, it was important for you. You had to lose that part of yourself on top of everything else. It’s a pity.” Just another thing I lost. I smile a little at her thoughtfulness. [["Your life sounds lonely," I say.|c6_t_lonely]] \<<else>> [[And there’s a lot to untangle.|c6_t_lot]] <</if>>\

Combing my hair hasn’t been on the front of my mind and I’ve tried not to think about it. It’s easier to keep it in a bun and forget about it. Tinsae gives my hair a little chuckle. “Oh, dear, I’ll try my best not to hurt you but–” She’s not a miracle-worker, yes. This will hurt. Tinsae caresses my tender scalp in between her knot-untangling that is my nest of hair. She’s careful, she tries her best. But it still hurts. \<<if $fire is true>> I curse at her, at her touch, and at my hair for being in such an atrocious state. She doesn’t take it to heart and I do try to apologize in the middle of my curses before she starts untangling another knot. \<<elseif $earth is true>> I take in the untangling of my hair without a peep of complaint. It’s nothing compared to what I’ve been through. “You’re taking it really well,” she compliments me. “You don’t have to if you don’t feel like it.” “I’m fine.” \<<elseif $air is true>> I cringe at the pain but soon enough, find myself letting go of the pain. I breathe in and pretend I’m not here. That her touch doesn’t affect me. \<<elseif $water is true>> “Ouch,” I say, again and again. “I’m sorry dear,” she says as she cuts another unsalvageable strand of my hair. I look at it on the ground and cringe as she starts to work on another one. <</if>>\ "I'm sorry, dear," she whispers in regret. "Soon this will be over." Finally, it is done. [["Your life sounds lonely," I say to take my mind off the pain.|c6_t_lonely]]

“Maybe,” she admits. “I’ve many friends in every town I live in, however. It’s not as lonely as it sounds.” “Have you left behind people who love you?” I ask. “Many times,” she answers in a somber manner. She feels the weight of the topic. “I’ve never once deceived anyone about my situation. But love is… difficult.” “It’s easier to keep things more casual?” “I don’t know if it’s any easier,” she says and a smile rings through her words. “But this is the road I’ve chosen.” Silence lingers as I ponder on her heavy words. [["Couldn't you take someone to travel with you?" I'm talking about myself.]] [["Couldn't you take someone to travel with you?" It's a hypothetical question.]] [[Remain silent.|c6_t_silent1]]

It’s a tempting thought. To leave everything behind with her. After my brother and sister are found, of course. \<<if $determined is true>> But it’s a wishful thought. I can’t leave just yet. There is so much left to do. <</if>> Again, a smile rings through her careful words. “The road I walk is my own. I couldn’t ask anyone to leave their family and life behind for me.” I knew it would be her answer but it still stings, just a little. She moves the chair to my side so she can see me. Her smile is soft and sympathetic as she looks at me, as she still caresses my hair. She must’ve looked at many old lovers like that. “Please don’t look at me like that,” I say. She frowns lightly. “Like what?” “There’s pity in your gaze. Like you hope that I wouldn’t get too attached and get hurt like the others in your life.” She leans back to her seat, letting go of me. “I’m… Sorry. I didn’t realize I looked like that. I would never pity you.” There's truth to her words but they still ring wrong. There's regret to her gaze but more than anything, she looks calm and proud. There’s something about her regal features that makes her seem almost… unreachable. Even when she’s caressing my hair with affection, there’s something about her touch that leaves me unsated. She leans back in, trying to reach my hair. [[Move away from her touch. I'm afraid I'll get hurt by her.|c6_t_away][$tinsae_sad to true]] [[Stay put and enjoy her touch.|c6_t_stayput]] [[Stay put but worry.|c6_t_stayputworry][$tinsae_sad to true]]

I’m not sure if I’m talking about myself. Traveling with her wouldn’t fit my plans, at least for now. She hesitates before answering, “The road I walk is my own. I couldn’t ask anyone to leave their home behind for me.” She either doesn’t want anyone to follow her or she really doesn’t wish for anyone to leave their home. Either way, she seems content enough with the choice of her lifestyle. I give her a quick look. Once again, she looks calm and proud. There’s something about her regal features that makes her seem almost… unreachable. Is that something that bothers me? [[Yes.|c6_t_itbothersme][$tinsae_sad to true]] [[No.|c6_t_itsnotabother]]

She seems content enough with the choice of her lifestyle. And my plans wouldn’t fit with hers. I give her a quick look. Once again, she looks calm and proud. There’s something about her regal features that makes her seem almost… unreachable. Is that something that bothers me? [[Yes.|c6_t_itbothersme][$tinsae_sad to true]] [[No.|c6_t_itsnotabother]]

Instinctively, I shift away from her touch, trying to shield myself from the future loss. And she’s left with her hands reaching for me. “Darling,” she starts. “I just need a break,” I say and look away. “$name.” My true name dances from her lips like it belongs there. “You’re here now. With me. Are you not enjoying yourself?” “I am.” There’s no denying it. I’m bathed, I’m comfortable. But there’s an underlying sorrow darkening my words of affirmation. “I’m here with you. Right now,” she says in a hushed voice, soothing my restless mind. Soothing my mind that is filled with a myriad of things, the daily fear for my life being the most acute of everything. She gives me a somber smile. "Is there something else you wish to speak about?" she asks to get my mind off things. And I’m grateful for it. [[“How is the baby I saved?” I ask.|c6_t_baby]]

I empty my mind of any and all fears of the future and focus on the present. Focus on her touch on my skin. Focus on her warmth, the sweet scent of her. She’s not unreachable, she’s right here with me. Opening up to me, sharing all of her with me. She's here. I close my eyes and focus on her feather-like touch caressing my naked skin. It’s so soft it almost tickles. She hugs me from behind and I bury my cheek against his pillow of hair. She smells of incense and coffee, of incense and flowers. “I wouldn’t want to be anywhere else right now,” she says and I find myself believing her. She wouldn’t lie to me. Finally, my hair is untangled and clean, and my eyes half closed and I’m ready to fall asleep. Tinsae gives my cheek a gentle caress. “If you fall asleep, you’ll wake up as a raisin.” “A happy raisin.” She laughs lightly. Fine. I’ll wake up. “How is the little baby I saved?” [[Continue|c6_t_baby]]

I let her caress me even if I know that it won’t last. And she senses my discomfort. Of course she does. For she says, “$name.” My true name dances from her lips like it belongs there. “You’re here now. With me. Are you not enjoying yourself?” “I am.” There’s no denying it. I’m bathed, I’m comfortable. But there’s an underlying sorrow darkening my words of affirmation. “I’m here with you. Right now,” she says in a hushed voice, soothing my restless mind. Soothing my mind that is filled with a myriad of things, the daily fear for my life being the most acute of everything. I close my eyes and focus on her feather-like touch caressing my naked skin. It’s so soft it almost tickles. It almost makes me smile. Time goes by, and I find myself uneasy and unable to relax. Her affirmations didn't change it. She gives me a somber smile. "Is there something else you wish to speak about?" she asks to get my mind off things. And I’m grateful for it. [[“How is the baby I saved?” I ask.|c6_t_baby]]

“Truly?” she asks. It’s as if she doesn’t quite believe my words. And, seemingly when she realizes that her words sounded doubtful, she gives me a quick, bright smile. “Thank you, dear. That means a lot to me.” She doesn’t look like it. She looks tired. [[Continue|c6_t_camillaplan]]

She ponders on the question for a good while. Finally, she says, “Nothing, I suppose. I think it makes me feel powerless.” \<<if $determined is true>> I frown at her words. “No. You’re not powerless. Just like I’m not.” She raises her brow at my words. I continue, “We can do something about our situations. We can make sure the right people suffer for what they’ve done.” “That the right people suffer,” she repeats my words, seemingly unsure how to answer. She fidgets with the sleeve of her dress, uncertain what to do with her hands. “There are people who should suffer for what they’ve done,” I repeat the sentiment as a whisper meant for her ears only. She looks away, not wanting to meet my gaze. “Are you troubled by my words?” I ask. “They’re familiar,” she admits. “I’ve heard them before.” By whom? Camilla? Herself? \<<else>> I give her a compassionate nod. I suppose I can relate to the sense of powerlessness. I can’t do anything to find my siblings, I can only wait for others’ good will to find them for me. I couldn’t find them by myself. All I can do is to wait. It’s pathetic. “Dear, something bothers you.” I shake my head. I don’t have the strength to ponder on it right now. There’s nothing I can do. She remains silent for a moment more, giving me space to continue. But I won’t. <</if>>\ [[Continue|c6_t_camillaplan]]

She sighs in clear relief. “Words cannot express how happy I am to hear that.” Her smile brightens as she looks at me. “I’ve grown weary of all the schemes.” “This isn’t the only scheme of Camilla?” She sighs. “Schemes flow through her veins.” I look at her, pondering on her words. Her reasoning for not killing the Emperor doesn’t involve her defending the Emperor’s virtue or the worth of his life. She just doesn’t want me or Camilla to die at the attempt. [["Do you think that he should die?" I ask.]]

She doesn’t need to know of my plans. She might try to stop me. She has that look on her face. She’s been somewhat at ease with the makings of my mind but who’s to say how long it will last? No, it’s better to keep quiet about my urge to kill everyone responsible for what happened. For now. \<<if $manipulated is true>> I blink at my thoughts. They come without a thought, flow like a river of hatred to fill my mind. <</if>>\ [["Do you think that he should die?" I ask.]]

“The ‘grandmotherish’ hobby you just cruelly shot down?” She pouts playfully. \<<if $loud_pervert is true>> “I can think of a few other things we could be doing in the middle of the session.” I give her a sly smirk. Tinsae bursts out laughing. “I will not taint my virtuous hobby of embroidery with your fiendish acts.” There’s no sense of discomfort in her tone, she’s playing along. Her tone continues to be light as a raven feather as she says, “Well, maybe after you show me how to properly do a couple of stitches.” “Anything for the booty, ma’am.” Another burst of laughter brightens the darkening afternoon and the cold it’s bringing with it. [[Continue|c6_t_embroidery]] \<<elseif $shy_pervert is true>> I give her generous neckline a glance and clear my throat. I can think of a few things we could be doing instead of embroidery. Tinsae gives me a mockingly shocked gasp. “You fiend! You were thinking of sexual acts, weren’t you?” I gasp in turn. “No! …Maybe.” She giggles in delight and gives me a warm glance. “First, you need to show me your skills on different stitches.” I sigh. “If that’s what it takes…” She bursts out laughing and the sound makes me smile. [[Continue|c6_t_embroidery]] \<<else>> “I was just teasing you,” I defend myself. “I know, dear.” She gives me a warm smile. “I could show you how to do a stitch or two.” <</if>>\ \<<if $clueless is true>> Her gaze grazes at my lower body, shielded by water and darkness. “Do you mean…?” I ask. “Stitches, yes.” She bites her lip playfully. I don’t think she’s talking about stitches anymore. \<<else>> “Are they Ethiopian?” “Yes. We value our embroidery. It makes the clothes sing.” <</if>> [[Continue|c6_t_embroidery]]

\<<if $ggender is "woman">> Silence lingers as both of us ponder on our conversation. Finally, Tinsae says, “Let us talk about something lighter and joyous, my dear sister in faith.” \<<elseif $ggender is "man">> Silence lingers as both of us ponder on our conversation. Finally, Tinsae says, “Let us talk about something lighter and joyous, my dear sibling in faith.” \<<else>> Silence lingers as both of us ponder on our conversation. Finally, Tinsae says, “Let us talk about something lighter and joyous, my dear sibling in faith.” <</if>>\ She looks at me with a warm smile. “Who are your gods?” I straighten my back to answer. “The Twins, the White Ones. The Righteous Butcher and the Just Bewitcher. Twins above, heed my call,” I add as a whisper. And she grants my reverence a smile. “I’m unfamiliar with their names. Do they mainly reside in the land of Caledonia?” “They’re my tribe’s gods only, no one else is allowed to serve them.” “Interesting,” she muses. “Taweret and Isis,” she says her gods’ names and touches the amulet on her chest before continuing, “are such widespread deities that it’s quaint to hear about the local deities.” I purse my lips at the word local. It makes them seem so small and insignificant. “I mean no offense, dear.” “None taken.” Besides, maybe they are so local that they can’t reach me. Maybe that’s the reason why I can’t hear them. \<<if (($chosen_one is true) or ($believer is true))>> What a blasphemous thought. I ought to cut my– No. Calm. <</if>>\ “But there are others I’ve met,” I say, changing the subject. “Oh? Do tell.” Her surprise isn’t out of place, for I just declared myself a sole servant of the Twins. I cannot claim to be Cernunnos’s for I’ve never prayed to them. But for some reason, they revealed themselves to me. \<<if $dummy is true>> I don’t understand why but I don’t think there’s any point in dwelling on it. \<<else>> Maybe that should be a little suspicious. <</if>>\ “I met with Cernunnos, the Father of the Forest.” “Oh, that is exciting! I’ve definitely heard of him. What was he like?” “I’m not sure if he actually is a he. He wasn’t a man or a woman, not a human, not an animal.” “A god.” “Yes. They invited me to their place and told me they would grant my wish.” Tinsae takes my hand, squeezing it in worry. [[“You didn’t agree to it, did you?”]]

\<<if $cernunnos_promise_quinn is true>> “I, uh. Yes. I did.” “$name,” she exhales in disappointment. “I didn’t do it for me,” I defend myself. “I did it for… Well, Quinn.” I’m not sure if it makes it any better. I can see from Tinsae’s face that she doesn’t think so. “$name…” Another, disappointed exhale with my name on it. “I had to do something, Quinn is dying!” I yank my hand back. She doesn’t understand what it feels like to watch your best friend die in front of your eyes. I don’t care if something’s changed, if $q_he’s a little different from before. $q_He’s still my friend. Tinsae says, “I’m sorry. $q_He is your friend and you’d do anything to help $q_him.” She accentuates the word ‘anything’, which makes me shift a little uneasily in the water. But ignore the feeling of uneasiness. I didn’t do anything wrong and Cernunnos doesn’t seem the type to ask for more than I would be able to give them. //what do you know about them?// “I did the right thing,” I say again, clenching my fist. “You did what you thought was right,” she says. “And what’s done is done. I do not claim to know the hearts of every god. I’m sure nothing bad will happen.” She tries to sound convincing. She almost does. “Well, anyway, Let’s not talk about that.” Speaking of the issue makes my scar itch. \<<elseif $cernunnos_promise_optio is true>> “Yes. I did.” “$name,” she exhales in disappointment. “I didn’t do it for me,” I defend myself. “I did it for the Optio’s soul.” “You did?” She leans a little closer. “What did they say?” “The Optio is now in an eternal limbo, I believe.” Tinsae raises her brows at me. “I mean, I don’t think it’s anything nefarious. Cernunnos will chase him as a rabbit for a… while. They didn’t specify the time.” She leans back to ponder on my words. Finally, she says, “I suppose it could’ve gone worse.” “There is that, yes.” “You did your best. I doubt that Cernunnos is a malicious god. They will be a fair judge.” I hope so. “Well, anyway, Let’s not talk about that.” Speaking of the issue makes my scar itch. \<<else>> “Of course not,” I say. “I’m not a fool, Tinsae. I would never take anything that a strange god offered me.” It’s never for free. They always want something in return. The scar on my chest tingles. Tinsae sighs in clear relief. “I’m sorry, I didn’t mean that I thought you’d do that. I was just… I’m sorry.” She gives me an apologetic smile before letting my hand go. “Gods can be fickle.” <</if>>\ Her gaze lingers on my chest. On the tattoo. “The Twins,” she starts, “they demanded the branding of faith?” She almost absentmindedly touches my tattoo. And her touch causes a jolt of pain to flash through me. It’s like a scorching sun burning my flesh. She inhales sharply. “I’m sorry.” With a frown, she inspects my tattoo. And I look at it with a similar frown on my face. It hasn’t been that sensitive before. She raises her hand as if to touch it again, and I flinch away from her instinctively. “Oh, no. I didn’t mean to… I’m sorry.” “It’s fine,” I say, all the while shielding my mark from her. [[Continue|c6_t_itmustvehurt]]

She hesitates, still her eyes lingering on my skin. “It must’ve hurt. When it was carved in your flesh.” “Yes,” I fully admit. Pain was the price for my gods. As it should be. “You were young,” she states. “I’d seen 10 summers by then.” A shadow of grief crosses her features. “You were too young.” “Old enough.” “No,” she states as if the matter is disclosed and there’s no use in denying it. “Someone close to you did it?” “My mother.” She takes in a sharp breath. “I see.” She waits for me to speak, should I want to confide in her. \<<if $chosen_one is true>> Confide with what? It is as it should be. “I’m the chosen of my gods and I paid the price that was asked of me. It is as it should be.” The conviction in my voice is as bright as a summer day. And she smiles at the sound of it. I would’ve thought that she’d be more against my faith, or at least that she wouldn’t approve of my branding, but it seems that she truly understands. She understands that the gods need something from us, to make them see that we’re ever so faithful. I give her a relieved smile, some of my tension leaving my shoulders. She smiles back at me. “I applaud your dedication to your gods,” she says. “However, I cannot approve of the way your mother treated you.” “She was the head druid, she was supposed to–” “But I realize that she did as the gods asked her to. They yearn for sacrifice. Sometimes in blood.” I sigh in relief. We won’t have to argue about that, at least. She understands. \<<elseif $believer is true>> Confide with what? It is as it should be. “I’m the loyal servant of my gods and paid the price that was asked of me. Nothing more, nothing less.” \<<elseif $doubter is true>> I’m not sure if I want to. The words of reverence easily left me because that’s what I’ve been practicing my whole life. But for some reason, I don’t want to repeat them now. I’ve said enough. I should change the subject from myself. I don’t want her to see the fragile state of my faith. <</if>>\ “Did you pay any price for your god?” I ask. She falls silent as a small, detached smile appears on her lips. “I did.” Just as I’m about to think that she doesn’t want to share, she says, “I gave my ability to bear children to my goddess.” Pain rings through her words, but it’s dull and old. It doesn’t cut through her like a sharp knife would. The smile warms up as she focuses her gaze on me once again. “Please don’t feel obligated to lessen my burdens, dear. I’ve made my peace with everything that’s happened in my life.” It does seem like she has. “I’m sorry,” I say. The price is paid and she doesn’t seem eager to talk about hers. “Gods can be difficult,” I say and my mind wanders to the winter forest where I tried to contact the Twins. She lets out a laugh that’s not as light as the previous ones. “Yes. But we ought not to blaspheme their names. Our hearts and minds are theirs. Their ears hear our every word, their eyes see our every move.” “Not mine,” I say before I can think any better. She gives me a small frown. ‘Tell me more,’ she asks without words. She’s here to listen. She knows what I’m going through. She would understand. [["Never mind."|c6_t_nvm]] [["My gods don't listen to me."|c6_t_don'tlisten]]

Her smile grows back like the spring’s first blooming mayflower. “They will hear you once more, my dear. They will see your bleeding heart and answer in kind. I know it.” “How do you know that?” I ask, even if I didn’t mean to talk about it. “I see the strength of your faith.” \<<if $doubter is true>> I almost flinch at her words. She sees it, and gives me a sympathetic smile. “There was a time when my heart was filled with doubt too.” “Really?” “Yes.” The smile still dances on her lips at the memory, but it lacks the warmth it usually has. “I lost everything in a single night. I was sure my gods had abandoned me, for what else would explain it?” “Right.” How could they abandon us? The ones who have given them so much. The ones who love them. Warmth returns to her soft features. “But, in the end, Taweret answered my calls. She gave me purpose once more. She gave me all I ever needed in this life.” The situation does sound similar to mine. It makes me breathe a little easily. If she doubted too, yet now she’s here with the good will of her god, it makes me a little more hopeful. “Thank you.” She takes my hands in hers and gives my knuckles a small, chaste kiss. “I’m here if you need me." \<<else>> I breathe out in relief. She’s right. All I need to do is to believe. Everything will be fine. She smiles at my relief. “Your faith shines brightly as the rising sun,” she muses as she takes my hand in hers. Slowly she gives my knuckles small chaste kisses. “I’m here if you need me.” <</if>> [[Let my gaze linger on her lips.|c6_t_lips]] [["Thank you. I appreciate it."|c6_t_thanks]]

“They don’t see me. They refuse to acknowledge me. I’m alone.” My voice cracks and I clear my throat. “My dear,” Tinsae says in a small whisper. “You’re never truly alone. Your gods walk alongside you.” “But what if they died when the grove was destroyed?” “No.” She shakes her head, gently banishing my thoughts. “You’ve sensed their presence.” “How do you know?” “Hope resides within you,” she says with conviction. “They will answer in time. Have faith, my dear.” I find myself nodding at her words. Small, hopeful nods. Something about her words makes me believe her, makes me believe in myself. In the Twins. Like I ought to. “Thank you.” She takes my hands in hers and gives my knuckles a small, chaste kiss. “I’m here if you need me.” [[Let my gaze linger on her lips.|c6_t_lips]] [["Thank you. I appreciate it."|c6_t_thanks]]

They look so soft, just like all of her, and I can’t help but wonder how they would caress my skin with their touch. Her affection is soft and comforting. It makes me feel safe. She gives me a warm smile when she notices that I’m looking at her lips. “Would you mind if I kissed you?” she asks. [[I wouldn't.|c6_t_yeskiss]] [[Kiss her before she can kiss me.|c6_t_kissher]] [["I would." I don't kiss easily.|c6_t_nopekiss]] [[Retreat from her touch. I shouldn't get too attached to her. She'll leave soon, anyway.|c6_t_retreat]]

Lightness lingers in the air as she smiles at me. Then, slowly, her gaze grows more solemn. “I hate to bring the mood down but there is something I’ve been meaning to say.” She gives me a tight smile. “I just want to say that I… I know what happened to your village. And I’m so sorry.” I frown at the sudden change of the subject. I give her a wary nod. “And I know it was Marcus who led the charge. I… Do you want to talk about what happened?” I mull on her words. Do I? [[No.|c6_t_no1]] [[Yes. I wish to share it all.|c6_t_yes1]]

“It’s not something I wish to dwell on.” “Of course, I understand. I’m sorry I brought it up. I just… wanted to let you know that I’m here, if you ever wish to talk.” “Sure. I appreciate it.” \<<if $determined is true>> [[Continue|c6_t_determined]] \<<else>> [[Continue|c6_t_manipulated]] <</if>>\

“He was in the front lines, killing my father’s soldiers. He was there when the village was invaded. When mothers and their children were found in their hideouts. When my colleagues and friends were in the middle of the ritual trying to banish them.” The smirk grows more grim. “They didn’t succeed.” She takes my hand, silently urging me to continue. \<<if $determined is true>> “I fantasize about killing him.” She doesn’t flinch at my confession. But, her grip tightens. “I understand,” she says. And the most bizarre thing about this all is that I believe her when she says that. “Why?” “I’ve harbored the same hatred in my own heart.” “What did you do with it?” “I gave myself to Taweret.” But I already belong to the Twins. I frown at her answer and she caresses my skin. “I’m not saying that your faith isn’t strong enough, dear. I cannot claim to know what you should or shouldn’t do.” She urges me to look into her eyes. Her bright, brown eyes. “You are a good person. Your heart is good.” I almost scoff at the notion. The thought feels so foreign. But I thank her, nonetheless. It would be rude not to. \<<else>> But there’s nothing else to say. Naturally, there’s the case of my broken brain but… And Tinsae doesn’t urge me to continue. Instead, she sighs deeply. “My words alone can never bring you comfort. But I’m here. And I want you to know that you’re strong. So strong.” “Thank you,” I say and clear my throat. I don’t always feel like it. Sometimes, I feel like a puppet on strings. “Your heart is good,” she says and hearing it lessens my burdens. Just a little. Somehow, she makes me believe it, despite the hatred in my heart. <</if>>\ \<<if $determined is true>> [[Continue|c6_t_determined]] \<<else>> [[Continue|c6_t_manipulated]] <</if>>\

She doesn’t ask me why I’m here. Either she doesn’t need to or she doesn’t want to hear the answer. She does, however, give me a long, inspecting look. It’s not intrusive, not like how others look at me from time to time. No, it’s like she yearns to understand me. “Your heart is heavy,” she says. Yes. “You’re here to kill the people responsible.” Again, not a question. "Yes." It’s no use to lie to her. She would see right through me. "Marcus and the Legate, mainly. Maybe others. I've yet to decide." She tilts her head with her brows slightly raised. She’s clearly expecting me to continue. Continue the thought? Isn’t that enough? What else is there to say? [["And I'm going to enjoy it," I add as a provocation.|c6_t_provo]] [["I am. Don't you believe me?"|c6_t_don'tbelieve?]] [[Nod. It is as I say.|c6_t_nodkill]]

“But…” Why are you here, she’s going to ask. I can tell. Why wouldn’t she wonder when I wonder about that myself. “Before you ask,” I say, “there is nothing I can actually tell you about the reason why I’m here.” She gives me a confused look. “I don’t actually know. I’ve, sort of, lost all of my memories regarding why I came here.” The confusion turns into a frown of worry. “You can’t remember?” “Sometimes I find myself in places I’m not supposed to be in. I don’t remember how I got there. I don’t remember how I got here, either. My mind woke up when I was at the conscription office. I had this burning pit in my stomach. Anger that didn’t feel mine.” It still gnaws at me, urges me to lash out. “Something in me wanted me to avenge my family. Everyone who died. I just–” She reaches out to touch my hand. “Please, don’t strain yourself.” I sigh and focus on her delicate hand giving me comfort. “I don’t know what is wrong with you, my dear. But I will help you to sort it out.” Her gaze is filled with worry and dedication. She wants to help me. She needs to. “What is the last thing you remember?” she asks. I strain myself to remember. I remember… [[I remember...|c6_t_remember]]

//“You need to leave, $name. They will find you.” “Why won’t you come with me?” “I will follow you. You need to trust me.” Trust. $q_He’s the only one I have left. If $q_he stays here, he could be– Quinn takes my hands in $q_hers and says, “Nothing in this world will kill me. I will follow you. I promise.”// I blink and the memory ends. It's the last thing I have before everything went dark. “I remember Quinn. That’s the last thing I remember.” Why is $q_his face such a blur in the memory? Tinsae frowns at the information. “Did $q_he do something?” “No. $q_He just insisted. That I couldn’t stay. That I should leave. And I think I was disoriented and just… started walking. I don’t know what happened in between the trip, then I was just… here.” [[My hands tremble. Why can't I remember?|c6_t_tremble]] [[I harden myself. I need to.|c6_t_steel]]

What happened to me during that trip? Why can’t I remember anything? What’s wrong with me? Tinsae’s hands wrap mine in hers. She caresses my skin and says, softly, “It must’ve been scary.” I can only nod. [[Hug her.|c6_t_hug]] [["Please don't let go of me."|c6_t_dontletgo]]

I don’t want to crumble in front of her. \<<if $fire is true>> I almost do. I tighten my jaw to ban the feelings from erupting out of me. I don’t want it right now. I don’t need it. \<<elseif $earth is true>> And it’s almost too easy not to. I focus my attention on my hands. I close them into a fist, and unfold them. There is something wrong with me but I’d rather not dwell on it right now. \<<elseif $air is true>> And it’s almost too easy not to. I stare into the distance and empty my mind. There’s nothing to worry about. My mind is a broken mess but there’s no need to dwell on it. Not right now. \<<elseif $water is true>> I almost do. I have to squeeze my eyes shut and let the fear and uncertainty flow through me. Fear of what’s happened to my broken mind. I don’t want to dwell into it right now. I've got enough on my plate. <</if>>\ Tinsae’s hands wrap mine in hers. She caresses my skin and says, softly, “It must be scary. To not remember.” “Maybe. But I don’t want to think about that.” “I understand.” She gives my skin one last caress before letting me go. Warmth fills the whole of her face when she looks at me. She doesn’t need to say that she’s here for me if I want to talk. I know that. But I don’t want to talk. Not right now. “There is something else I wanted to talk about,” she says. [["I found the slaver who sold your siblings."|c6_t_slaver]]

I reach for her over the edge of the barrel and bury my naked self in her silken dress, in her gentle embrace. My wet skin dampens her clothes but she doesn’t care, she hugs me in return. Her embrace is a safe haven. I feel protected by her delicate arms, protected from my own, broken mind. She caresses my head and places a gentle kiss upon it. Her kisses heal my anxious mind, nurture my calmness, as she protects me from the outside world, even just for a moment. Finally, when my breathing has calmed, I leave her embrace. It almost felt like she would’ve kept me there forever, if I needed to. “Feeling better?” she asks. "Yes. Thank you.” “I’m sure everything will come back to you. I might even be able to help you.” “How?” “We’ll see.” She gives me a mysterious smile and caresses my cheek once more. “I will help you. But now... There is something else I wanted to talk about,” she says. [["I found the slaver who sold your siblings."|c6_t_slaver]]

\<<set $tinsae_hurt to true>> She smiles as she looks at our intertwined hands. “Of course not. Not now.” Not now. The implication is there. That she will let go at some point. [[Yank my hands back.|c6_t_yank]] [[Bury my pain and keep looking at our hands.|c6_t_burythepain]]

"And I will take you to him. Tomorrow." I perk up. “You need to brace yourself, for he’s a… disgusting creature.” A deep grimace distorts Tinsae’s gentle face. “I know. I’m ready.” Determination hardens my words. I’m ready. “I will take you to him. And we will inquire about the location of your siblings. We will act discreetly and without violence, preferably.” Tinsae looks me into my eyes. “I need to know if you will…” She hesitates for a heartbeat. “Do you wish death upon him?” The slaver? She’s asking if I’m going to cause trouble and make a murder attempt. [["Of course."|c6_t_doh]] [["I'm not sure." It's a lie.|c6_t_lienotsure]] [["I wish I could kill him with my own hands."|c6_t_killhands]] [["No."|c6_t_nokilling]]

I say without a thought. But Tinsae doesn’t flinch at my confession. Instead, her gaze is filled with sympathy as she says, “I understand.” Then, after a moment of silence, she asks, “Would you do it after learning the fate of your siblings?” “Yes. I couldn’t live with myself if he got away and I did nothing to prevent it.” So many children must’ve passed his revolting hands, to be sent to die in the mines, to be a pet for a wealthy family’s children, to… I shudder in disgust. “Couldn’t live with yourself…,” she says silently, musing on the words, the sentiment. “I understand.” “Do you approve?” “It is not for me to decide. You have your free will. I can only advise against the most foolhardiest of plans.” “Are you going to advise against this?” “No. I’m not.” [[Continue|c6_t_returnthequestion]]

I know exactly what I want to do when I meet him. I wish to kill him. I wish to strangle him with my own hands, pierce his belly with my knife. For everything that he’s done. But there’s no saying if Tinsae will understand this. So, it’s better to keep quiet about it. I will decide what to do when the time comes. And she will forgive me for it. I can see it in her eyes. Tinsae gives me a long look and I’m unsure if she knows that I’m not telling the whole truth. She says, “There is no shame in wanting to protect the innocent.” [[Continue|c6_t_returnthequestion]]

I say without a thought. But Tinsae doesn’t flinch at my confession. Instead, her gaze is filled with sympathy as she says, “I understand.” Then, after a moment of silence, she asks, “Could you? Kill him with your own hands.” That’s a different question. He ought to die for what he did, for what he’s done. So many children must’ve passed his revolting hands, to be sent to die in the mines, to be a pet for a wealthy family’s children, to… I shudder in disgust. [["I couldn't."|c6_t_nokilling]] [["I could."|c6_t_couldkill]]

I want to say yes but I can’t. Tinsae gives me an understanding smile. “I’m not sure if I could, either.” \<<if $determined is true>> I should be able to do it. I’m already here to kill. Yet here I am, hesitating when it comes to the worst human scum on the earth. What is wrong with me? //soft, disgustingly soft// No. The voice of my mother makes me grimace. Tinsae takes my hand in hers. Her warmth makes me sigh in relief. It brings me comfort. \<<else>> I’m not a killer. Even if my broken brain tells me so, I’m not. Even if the worst human scum on the earth, I will hesitate. Because it’s not me. And my stomach aches, my brain hurts. It should be. //soft, disgustingly soft// No. The voice of my mother makes me grimace. Tinsae takes my hand in hers. Her warmth makes me sigh in relief. It brings me comfort. <</if>>\ “There is no shame in peace.” “What if it kills more innocents? What if I could’ve prevented it?” Her grip tightens. “I cannot say, dear. I don't have an answer to that.” [[Continue|c6_t_returnthequestion]]

I ask in return, “Do you wish he’d die?” She remains silent for a while longer, clearly unsure how she should answer. Finally, she says, “I would be lying if I said I didn’t. Slavers are…” Disgust bleeds into her serene features, distorting them. “Monsters.” Weariness sags her delicate shoulders. She must see much in her line of work. Orphans have it the worst in this cruel world. “Do you want to talk about it?” I ask. She gives me a tired smile. “I shouldn’t think of people as monsters. I’m just… Tired, sometimes. Of everything.” She continues, “And in my heart I know that some people deserve to die for what they’ve done.” She gives me a hesitant look. “Sometimes,” she starts her confession, “I want to see them bleed for what they’ve done,” she whispers. She purses her lips to make her stop talking. Then, with more control, she continues, “But who am I to be the judge of that?” Roman law won’t be the judge of that, either. Slavery is completely legal. The monsters walk free amongst us. [["You should trust your own judgment."]] [["I don't know."|c6_t_dunno1]] [["Only gods can decide who should live or die."|c6_t_onlygods]] [["You shouldn't taint your hands with the bood of the sinners."]]

Somehow the words feel right as they leave me. Tinsae clearly has a good heart and I would trust her to know what’s best. \<<if $determined is true>> Just like I trust myself. \<<else>> Easy for me to say, I can’t even trust my head. <</if>>\ She hesitates, seemingly unsure if she should believe me. Finally, she asks, “How can you be so sure?” “You have a good heart. You know what is right.” “That’s a massive vote of confidence.” She gives me a weak smile. “We should continue this conversation tomorrow. The topic is too heavy.” Silence lingers as we ponder on what’s been exchanged. Only the sounds of her soft steps on the wooden floor can be heard as she walks to the kitchen to get herself some tea. “Do you need any, dear?” I don’t. I look at her graceful movements as she sits back to the couch, crossing her legs, revealing the naked skin of her shin. Is there still something I wish to say about the matter? [[Try to influence her that the slaver must die for what he's done.|c6_t_trytoinfluence]] [[No.|c6_t_quinn?]]

“Gods,” she repeats the word, tastes it. Ponders. “What about you? You are the instrument of your gods. Is it your decision to know what they want from you?” \<<if $determined is true>> I ponder on her words, and on my own. Only gods can decide but I’m the voice of mine. Maybe my road for revenge is the will of my gods. I have no reason to think otherwise. \<<else>> Her words make me halt. It is different. We should know better due to our connection to the gods, due to our holy knowledge that they grant us. However, mine doesn’t tell me anything. Does hers? <</if>>\ “Does your god speak to you?” I ask. “Not directly and not often. I think she leaves the details of her plan to me. And it’s… daunting. How do I know what’s the right thing to do?” I nod slowly at her words. It must be daunting. Mine don’t even seem to have a plan, they seem to expect nothing of me. Would it make things even more difficult if they had one? And if I wasn’t sure how to proceed with it? “I understand,” I say slowly. I do, at least I try to. “I knew you would.” She smiles. “It’s a relief to speak with someone who understands.” I find myself smiling back at her. It is. “We should continue this conversation tomorrow. The topic is too heavy.” Silence lingers as we ponder on what’s been exchanged. Only the sounds of her soft steps on the wooden floor can be heard as she walks to the kitchen to get herself some tea. “Do you need any, dear?” I don’t. I look at her graceful movements as she sits back to the couch, crossing her legs, revealing the naked skin of her shin. Is there still something I wish to say about the matter? [[Try to influence her that the slaver must die for what he's done.|c6_t_trytoinfluence]] [[No.|c6_t_quinn?]]

\<<if $determined is true>> She shouldn’t taint her pure hands with it, but what about me? The words ring hollow in my ears. I look at my hands that have yet to be bloodied. How long? Tinsae’s soft hand reaches out to mine. She takes my hands in hers. “Why should I remain sinless?” she asks. “Why should my hands be more precious than the rest?” “Because there are so few pure people in this world.” “Darling,” she says as she squeezes my hand. “My heart is not pure. By any stretch of the imagination.” “I refuse to believe it.” She lets out a light, bright laugh. “Then you are a sweet fool.” She kisses my hand softly, each of my knuckles. “And I adore fools.” \<<else>> I look at my own hands. Are they bloodied? I can’t remember. Tinsae’s soft hand reaches out to mine. She takes my hands in hers. “Why should I remain sinless?” she asks. “Why should my hands be more precious than the rest?” “Because there are so few pure people in this world.” “Darling,” she says as she squeezes my hand. “My heart is not pure. By any stretch of the imagination.” “I refuse to believe it.” She lets out a light, bright laugh. “Then you are a sweet fool.” She kisses my hand softly, each of my knuckles. “And I adore fools.” <</if>>\ Silence lingers as we ponder on what’s been exchanged. Only the sounds of her soft steps on the wooden floor can be heard as she walks to the kitchen to get herself some tea. “Do you need any, dear?” I don’t. I look at her graceful movements as she sits back to the couch, crossing her legs, revealing the naked skin of her shin. Is there still something I wish to say about the matter? [[Try to influence her that the slaver must die for what he's done.|c6_t_trytoinfluence]] [[No.|c6_t_quinn?]]

\<<if $determined is true>> Even if I think that I ought to be the judge and the executioner of what happened to my people I can’t really say if others should feel the same. Is that the road she should take? There’s no turning back from it. \<<else>> I barely know what I myself should do about my situation. I don’t even know what I’m doing. I couldn’t pass judgment on her actions. <</if>>\ “And I cannot blame you for it.” She gives me a weak smile. Silence lingers as we ponder on what’s been exchanged. Only the sounds of her soft steps on the wooden floor can be heard as she walks to the kitchen to get herself some tea. “Do you need any, dear?” I don’t. I look at her graceful movements as she sits back to the couch, crossing her legs, revealing the naked skin of her shin. Is there still something I wish to say about the matter? [[Try to influence her that the slaver must die for what he's done.|c6_t_trytoinfluence]] [[No.|c6_t_quinn?]]

"Have you seen your friend around?" she asks. Quinn. \<<if $quinn_angry is true >> “Too many times,” I scoff. And she patiently waits for me to elaborate. “We’re not on good terms right now,” I explain. “I see. What happened?” Something tries to prevent me from speaking. I ignore it. “$q_He’s… pushy. And gets mad at the smallest of things. $q_He hasn’t been the same after what happened.” There’s a knot in my stomach tightening when I talk. //shut up shut up// “I wish I’d be able to say that I’m surprised,” she says. She knew there’s something wrong with Quinn. From the moment she saw $q_him, she knew. Now she’s just trying to deduce if the problem is serious or not. Something within tells me that it’s dangerous to let her know. If it’s dangerous for her or for me, it is difficult to say. And why it is so, I do not know. I just know it’s dangerous. Is it my gut or is it my brain breaking apart? “I… Don’t think we should talk about this.” She gives me the slightest of frowns. “Are you sure?” “Yes. I overreacted. It was just a little dispute.” She gives me a smile that ought to be relieved but it’s not. She doesn’t believe me. She sees right through me. “I understand. If you ever have any problems with your friend,” she puts heavy emphasis on the word ‘friend’, “please let me know.” “What could you do?” She smiles brightly, like the sun. Almost blindly. “I will protect you.” Something about her words make me believe that she would. At least she would try. \<<else>> “Yes. Why do you ask?” “I’ve been worried about you,” she says truthfully. She distrusts Quinn. There’s something about their relationship that causes it to be strained. “Nothing is wrong with Quinn,” I say quickly. Why did I choose those words? Of course there’s nothing wrong with $q_him. “I mean, you don’t need to be worried about me. $q_He’s my old friend.” “Has $q_he always been like that?” No. “Yes. Pretty much. But I think that the trauma is to blame for any… mishaps.” She gives me a long look. She inspects me with such an intense gaze that I almost look away. Finally, she says, “I see. Trauma is a terrible thing. I will try to act with more grace around $q_him.” “I’m sure Quinn will appreciate it.” No. $q_He won’t. $q_He hates Tinsae. I know it in my heart. //blindingly bright// <</if>> [[The conversation ends on an awkward note.|c6_t_awkward]]

There’s much animosity between Tinsae and Quinn and I can’t quite understand why. “Why do you dislike Quinn?” I ask plainly. She gives me a quick, uneasy smile as she lights up the incense in her hand. “I don’t dislike your friend.” A lie. “But I worry for you nonetheless.” I didn’t expect it from her. Slowly, the room starts to fill with the smoke from the incense and candles. “Why did you light those up?” I ask. She returns to her seat and takes my hand. “Just relax, dear. This will make you feel better.” “What do you–” Mean. But the smoke from the incense catches my eye just as I’m about to finish my sentence. The way it moves in the air captures my gaze. I can’t look away and why would I want to? It’s beautiful. It caresses my skin, makes me inhale deeply. The scent of warmth relaxes my mind. It’s sweet and spicy. Sensual. Then, the humming singing of Tinsae spreads through the room along with the smoke. I close my eyes unwillingly. Or willingly. I’m unsure. It doesn’t matter. My mind tries to alert me of the pain on my chest but it’s easily ignored. There’s something about the air. Something about the sound of her voice. “Your mind is a haze of darkness.” Tinsae’s honeyed voice echoes in my ears. “Let me guide you through the dusk and gloom. Let me guide you to the dawn.” I exhale the darkness. I inhale the sweet light. I faintly realize the air makes me want to vomit, as if my body tries to reject whatever is in it. But my mind is too far off to care about my physical being. Tinsae wants to show me something. I need to see it. “Show yourself to yourself, $name. Show yourself what you’ve forgotten, what you need to see. Let me help you.” I see. I see. [[I see.|c6_t_isee]]

Someone’s hands. I try to close them into a tight fist but they’re not mine to control. The owner of the hands is distraught, their heart pounds so fast it almost flees their chest. My mind blurs with theirs. There’s blood. Blood on the ground. Blood and dirt underneath my nails, bruises on my flesh. I’m scared. Blood rushes in my ears, my heart pounds. But I don’t fear judgment. No. I’m scared of the unknown. If they’ll hear me. I raise my gaze to a woman’s cold, unseeing stare. Her mouth is agape, forever twisted into a scream that no one will ever hear. Another one’s dead eyes stare at me but my heart remains unbothered by the sight. I ignore the gore, ignore the pair of dead holding their bound hands as their throats were slit open, the elderly shielding each other in eternal embrace. I focus on the meaning of the flesh pile. The Righteous Butcher, please take them. Please hear me. Please help $name. Please… “I sacrifice,” the person says and the sound is painfully familiar. It’s Quinn. [[I wake up with a jerk.|c6_t_wakeup]]

Cold air whips my skin as the open window banishes the smoke in the room. “Quinn.” But when no one answers, I realize to look for Tinsae. My eyes skim the room, darting from an ivory statue to another. Finally, when my gaze finds her, she’s curled up on a floor with her hair disheveled. She squeezes her amulet when I look at her. She whispers, “Your friend is a spawn of evil. I saw it. I saw it.” Her hand trembles. [["No." I defend Quinn as a reflex.|c6_t_quinnisfine]] [[I don't know what to say.|c6_t_dontknow]]

Despite everything that I saw, despite the fact that I know it to be true, I defend $q_him. There must be a misunderstanding. Tinsae looks at me with her eyes dismayed. “You saw it with your own eyes.” “Yes but there must be a reason for that.” “The reason is that $q_he sacrificed humans for a god.” “Not just any god,” I say as another reflex. My gods aren’t just any god. But when Tinsae’s sharp gaze pierces into me, I realize what I just said. Her tone is almost judging as she says, “No, not just any god. Your gods.” ‘Is that common for your gods?’ she seems to ask. Of course not. There’s a misunderstanding. “My gods don’t demand human blood. There is a misunderstanding.” Tinsae’s shoulders relax just a little at the news. Did she think that I’d worship evil gods? Does she still suspect it? I don’t. There is a misunderstanding. The Twins wouldn’t want this. “My gods don’t demand human blood,” I say it again. But why did Quinn do that, then? Why would they reward such a deed? They might not demand it but maybe $q_he thought they’d answer $q_him with more certainty if $q_he did that. Never mind the reason. The pile of victims is engraved into my mind’s eye. “How did you know?” I ask to change the subject. “I saw it with my own eyes,” she says. “I didn’t expect to be able to but it flew out of you like a volley of arrows.” She looks away, biting on her lower lip. [[Reach for her.|c6_t_reach]] [[I'm starting to panic.|c6_t_panic]] [[I'm somewhat calmly trying to make sense of what happened.|c6_t_calmquinn]]

"How did you know?" I ask, instead. “I saw it with my own eyes,” she says. “I didn’t expect to be able to but it flew out of you like a volley of arrows.” She looks away, biting on her lower lip. [[Reach for her.|c6_t_reach]] [[I'm starting to panic.|c6_t_panic]] [[I'm somewhat calmly trying to make sense of what happened.|c6_t_calmquinn]]

She shies away from my touch as a reflex. Then, when she realizes what she did, she shakes his head. “I’m sorry, dear.” She takes my hand as an atonement. “I just don’t understand what this means.” “Me neither,” I say quietly. “You don’t?” she asks as a whisper, as if she’s afraid of what I’m going to tell her. Does she suspect me? That I would ask Quinn to do that? \<<if $determined is true>> Just because I’m here to kill Romans doesn’t mean I’d start it off with asking Quinn to offer my gods human blood. <</if>>\ “Of course not.” I frown. “I don’t know what any of this means. I don’t know what kind of things Quinn is plotting but I’m not a part of it.” Tinsae exhales in relief. “I didn’t mean to doubt you. I’m sorry. I… I’m so sorry.” She pleas for my forgiveness with her bright brown eyes. “$q_He called your name. I just...” “$q_He thinks $q_he’s helping me. But I didn’t ask for it.” Or did I? Is that a part of the things I don’t remember? No. “I didn’t ask for it,” I repeat. “I believe you.” She tries to find the right words. Seldom have I seen her in such a state. “I don’t doubt you. I just don’t know what I saw.” “I don’t either. I don’t know what $q_he did and why. And I have to find out.” She inhales a sharp breath. “No. You cannot approach that thing.” [["I don't want to but I have to."|c6_t_haveto]] [["There are many murderers in the fort. Many of whom you're friends with."]]

My breath is quick as my mind rushes through the bloody images I saw. There were so many of them. So many with their throats slit open, so much blood that it muddied the ground. And it’s all my fault. $q_He did it for me. $q_He said it in the memory. $q_He said my name like a chant. \<<if $fire is true>> My breathing is erratic and I can’t stop it. No, I can’t stop my breathing, that’s not the issue. I need to. Be calm. But I can’t. The faces of the dead haunt me. They blame me. They burn me in the flames of accusations. My fault. It was all my fault. Then, a warm, steady hand finds mine. “$name,” Tinsae says, bringing me back to the room with her. “You are safe.” \<<elseif $earth is true>> With some effort, I manage to calm myself. The images still linger at the back of my head but they’re dulled down, buried in a shallow grave. I need to keep it together. I can’t crumble. Not now. Then, a warm, steady hand finds mine. “$name,” Tinsae says, bringing me back to the room with her. “You are safe.” \<<elseif $air is true>> I breathe the damp air and close my eyes. The eyes of the dead follow me but they’re difficult to see from behind the fog that surrounds my mind. Calm. I’m not here. Nothing happened. Then, a warm, steady hand finds mine. “$name,” Tinsae says, bringing me back to the room with her. “You are safe.” \<<elseif $water is true>> Tears gather in the corners of my eyes. //my fault my fault// $q_He killed them all for me. It’s all my fault. Then, a warm, steady hand finds mine. “$name,” Tinsae says, bringing me back to the room with her. “You are safe.” <</if>>\ No. “$q_He did it for me. You saw it.” “You do not bear the responsibility for what $q_he did,” she says with her voice steady and sure. “You didn’t know.” “How do you know? Maybe I did.” I’ve lost so much, maybe that’s one of the parts I lost. “I know it to be true. Your reaction speaks for itself.” She looks at me with certainty in her gaze. She has hardened herself for me. She’s here to be my rock. “How can I help you?” she asks. She can’t come with me to meet Quinn. Who knows what would happen if she did. I need to meet $q_him alone. So, reluctantly, I say, “You can’t. You can’t help me.” “But if I could come with you to–” Quinn won’t hurt me, of that I’m sure. But who’s to say $q_he won’t hurt Tinsae? “No. I need to see $q_him myself. I need to make sense of things.” Tinsae gives me a pleading look. ‘Don’t go,’ she says without words. But when I only firmly shake my head once again in return, she sighs in defeat. “So be it. But you need to be careful.” “I promise.” I look away. “I think I need to leave,” I say. "Tomorrow is a long day." “Yes.” She nods. “Long, unpleasant day.” “It’ll be fine.” Storm is brewing. [[Continue|c6_t_goodbye]]

Quinn clearly committed an offering to the Twins and received the blessing. However, was it truly the Twins who granted $q_him that? Or something else entirely? Who’s to say it isn’t a curse that Quinn received? If $q_he’s dying because of it, it must mean that something went wrong. Or maybe the Twins didn’t care for $q_his offering. “$name?” Tinsae says with her voice careful. “Did you know about that?” “Hm? No. I didn’t.” I would never advise Quinn to do that. I would never pile such a mountain of bodies on an altar. Wicker man would do the trick. //fire feasts on the flesh// I blink at my thoughts. [[It's the truth. It was sloppy.|c6_t_sloppy]] [[What? Of course the method of the massacre isn’t the problem here.|c6_t_wtf]]

Leave it to Quinn to spill so much blood without a thought. The method lacked finesse. It’s a wonder how the deeply insulted Twins didn’t strike $q_him down on the spot. After a moment of rumination, I realize to turn to look at Tinsae. Her gaze is peering into me. Burning gaze, all too bright. “Are you sure that you didn’t know about that?” she asks. Her voice carries a sense of command in it. Everything depends on my answer. I give her a quick smile. But then I realize that I shouldn’t smile because I just witnessed something disturbing. So, I stifle it into a grimace. “I… I’m sorry. I’ve never known how to properly react to disturbing news. I think it has something to do with what happened to me.” Tinsae gives me a long look. Almost too long. It almost makes me want to look away. But I challenge the gaze with the vulnerability of a victim. I didn’t know, my gaze says. And it’s not a lie. Finally, she sighs. “I’m sorry, I didn’t mean to imply… I… I don’t know.” With a sigh, she buries her face in her hands. [[Comfort her.|c6_t_psychocomfort]] [[Let her recover by herself.|c6_t_recoveralone]]

“Hey,” I say and take her hand. She flinches at my touch, at me forcing her to reveal her grieving, naked face. I smile. “Maybe it was just a fake visage. Maybe it was just a dream.” “No,” she says. “I know it in my heart to be true. I suspected something of the sort from your friend. I felt the aura of evil within $q_him.” Aura of evil? I’ve never sensed anything of the sort from $q_him. She grabs my hands in desperation. “Please tell me you will not visit that thing.” And I give her a calming smile. “But I will visit $q_him. I must. That thing is my friend still. $q_He owes me an explanation.” “But–” “Quinn won’t hurt me.” It’s the truth. There’s something in me which knows it to be true. Quinn would never hurt me. If anything, I need to talk to $q_him about the implications of this revelation. What else has $q_he left unsaid? Tinsae gives me a pleading look. ‘Don’t go,’ she says without words. But when I give her only an unrelenting smile in return, she sighs in defeat. “So be it. I trust you to know what’s best for you.” “And I thank you for it. I think I need to leave,” I say. "Tomorrow is a long day." “Yes.” She nods. “Long, unpleasant day.” “It’ll be fine.” Storm is brewing. [[Continue|c6_t_goodbye]]

I look at her trembling figure in front of me. A part of me thinks that I should offer her comfort but another part hesitates. Maybe it’s best for her to get it together without my involvement. Finally, Tinsae looks at me. “You’re not going to visit that thing, are you?” “I will, of course. That thing is my friend still. $q_He owes me an explanation.” “But–” “Quinn won’t hurt me.” It’s the truth. There’s something in me which knows it to be true. Quinn would never hurt me. If anything, I need to talk to $q_him about the implications of this revelation. What else has $q_he left unsaid? Tinsae gives me a pleading look. ‘Don’t go,’ she says without words. But when I give her only an unrelenting smile in return, she sighs in defeat. “So be it. I trust you to know what’s best for you.” “And I thank you for it. I think I need to leave,” I say. "Tomorrow is a long day." “Yes.” She nods. “Long, unpleasant day.” “It’ll be fine.” Storm is brewing. [[Continue|c6_t_goodbye]]

As if on cue, Caleb appears back to the room. He brings me a soft, clean towel. He turns and gives me privacy to change. And, without a word, and with my mind a mess of things, I start changing to my clothes. I touch the fabric of my clothes. They feel softer than usual. Cleaner. \<<if $sex is "female">> And there’s a new change of bindings, too. <</if>>\ Tinsae gives me a small, apologizing smile. “I took the liberty to take your clothes to be cleaned. I hope you don’t mind.” “New clothes? For me?” “That’s the least you deserve, darling.” I can’t exactly deny the gift, if my old clothes are already elsewhere. A mischievous smile appears on her lips. “It’s unfortunate that I didn’t have a mind to ask. The clothes are already being cleaned as we speak,” she all but confirms my thoughts. How devious of her. With a new set of clothes, I take off back to the barracks. There’s both the question of Quinn and the slaver. I really, really need a good night's sleep. [[Continue|Back at the barracks.]]

I frown at my thought process. Where did that come from? Why would I think of wicker men? Highly disturbing. I rub my face and squeeze my eyes tightly shut, trying to banish the thought. But it doesn’t leave. I feel the heat of flames on my face. I see the– “$name?” I blink at my name. "You didn't... ask for that to happen, right?" “Of course not.” I frown. “I don’t know what any of this means. I don’t know what kind of things Quinn is plotting but I’m not a part of it.” Tinsae exhales in relief. “I didn’t mean to doubt you. I’m sorry. I… I’m so sorry.” She pleas for my forgiveness with her bright brown eyes. “$q_He called your name. I just...” “$q_He thinks $q_he’s helping me. But I didn’t ask for it.” Or did I? Is that a part of the things I don’t remember? No. “I didn’t ask for it,” I repeat. Tinsae looks at me with worry in her gaze. “You are distraught. I am too.” She takes my hand. “Please tell me if there’s anything I can help you with. I could try to banish that thing with–” “You can’t banish Quinn. $q_He’s not a ghost or a demon.” //is $q_he?// She gives me a worried frown. “Who’s to say what $q_he is?” I shake my head slowly. “You can’t help me with $q_him.” “But if I could come with you to–” Quinn won’t hurt me, of that I’m sure. But who’s to say $q_he won’t hurt Tinsae? “No. I need to see $q_him myself. I need to make sense of things.” Tinsae gives me a pleading look. ‘Don’t go,’ she says without words. But when I only firmly shake my head once again in return, she sighs in defeat. “So be it. But you need to be careful.” “I promise.” She lets out a long, weary sigh. “I think we ought to call it a night. If you wish to see your… ‘friend’ tomorrow, you’re going to have a long day ahead of you.” [[Continue|c6_t_goodbye]]

There’s a bang of guilt in my chest when I admit that I don’t want to approach Quinn. It shouldn’t be the case. $q_He’s my friend. But what $q_he did… I don’t know what to make of it. I don’t know how it could be true. I don’t want to make sense of this. It’s too much. But I must. Tinsae’s shoulders sag in defeat. “I know. I know it in my heart to be true but I don’t dare to think what might happen.” “Nothing will happen.” I’m not sure of it but I try to convince her. “Tell me that I can come with you," she pleads. No. Who knows what would happen if she did. I need to meet $q_him alone. So, reluctantly, I say, “You can’t.” “But if I could come with you to–” Quinn won’t hurt me, of that I’m sure. But who’s to say $q_he won’t hurt Tinsae? “No. I need to see $q_him myself. I need to make sense of things.” Tinsae gives me a pleading look. ‘Don’t go,’ she says without words. But when I only firmly shake my head once again in return, she sighs in defeat. “So be it. But you need to be careful.” “I promise.” I look away. “I think I need to leave,” I say. "Tomorrow is a long day." “Yes.” She nods. “Long, unpleasant day.” “It’ll be fine.” Storm is brewing. [[Continue|c6_t_goodbye]]

I remind her of the reality. Marcus has killed many, so has his father. I don’t know of Camilla’s misdeeds but I would be surprised if her hands weren't bloodied as well. Yet Tinsae doesn’t shy away from their presence. Still, she tries to argue, “But this is a sacrifice to the gods. A deed most foul. I–” “The dead fallen in military campaigns have been sacrificed to their god Emperor.” She looks away, begrudgingly seeing the sense in my words. Finally, she looks at me. “You are right. I cannot claim the high ground in this instance when I don’t know the details. I can come with you. If anything goes wrong, I can– “No,” I say without hesitation. “I need to see $q_him myself. Things will only get murky if you come along.” Again, begrudgingly, she accepts my truth. “So be it. But you need to be careful.” “I promise.” I look away. “I think I need to leave,” I say. "Tomorrow is a long day." “Yes.” She nods. “Long, unpleasant day.” “It’ll be fine.” Storm is brewing. [[Continue|c6_t_goodbye]]

\<<set $defiler to true>> “No, I think we should ponder on this some more,” I say with my words heavy. Her forehead creases slightly. “What do you mean?” She senses something in my words. Something that makes her tense up her thighs, ready to flee from my touch. “Indulge me, please,” I say and steel my gaze on her. She shifts uncomfortably but listens. She doesn’t shy away from my gaze, she holds it with the sense of grace and boldness I expected from her. But there’s an underlying sense of wariness. Of me and my words. “Tell me,” I say quietly. “Could you kill someone’s assailant to save them?” She nods but it’s not without hesitation. She would hesitate. “If there was no other way,” she says. “Is there another way to deal with the slaver? Any other way that doesn’t end up with him continuing his monstrous profession?” She shakes her head, the movement filled with regret and grief. Her voice is fragile as she says, “No. There isn’t.” “You already killed the Optio for me,” I say. “To save you,” she confirms. “You would save many more of his future victims if you killed him.” I’m not sure why I want her to be the one to do it. I suppose I could do it myself. Why do I want to convince her? [[I'm unsure.|c6_t_unsure]] [[She needs to see that it's the only way.|c6_t_onlyway]] [[I want to taint her.|c6_t_defiler]]

I’m unsure of my motives. But when I look at her hands, it stirs something in me. Her hands should heal and nurture, not murder. She shouldn’t taint her hand with the blood of evil, it should be left for someone else’s hands. But she’s capable of it. A part of me wants to see it happen. A part of me wants to see those hands commit something atrocious, to see if I could make her do it. Then, maybe another part of me wants to help her find herself. Maybe that is her true self. Maybe that will help her bloom in this world. There are many reasons and I’m unsure which one is my reasoning. “You’ve been wanting to do something to this for a while now, haven’t you?” My words are soft and understanding. “You’ve seen so much evil in this world.” So much evil. And all she can do is to try and fix what is already broken by the world. Finally, she cannot hold my gaze for longer. She looks away. I smile at her hesitation and take her hand. She lets me have it but she dares not look me in the eyes. “I have,” she admits to both counts. “But you’re afraid.” “Yes,” she admits. “You’re afraid of what it would make you.” She doesn’t need to confirm it. [[Continue|c6_t_shield]]

She’s seen so much pain in this world, she must’ve wanted to take action for so long. But it seems she hasn’t. I will help her. I will help her to finally take action. “You’ve been wanting to do something to this for a while now, haven’t you?” My words are soft and understanding. “You’ve seen so much evil in this world.” So much evil. And all she can do is to try and fix what is already broken by the world. Finally, she cannot hold my gaze for longer. She looks away. I smile at her hesitation and take her hand. She lets me have it but she dares not look me in the eyes. “I have,” she admits to both counts. “But you’re afraid.” “Yes,” she admits. “You’re afraid of what it would make you.” She doesn’t need to confirm it. [[Continue|c6_t_shield]]

She’s so pure and filled with light. The light in her almost blinds me. At times, it annoys me to no end. No one should shine so brightly in this world. There’s already blood in her sweet, delicate hands because of me. Those hands that should only be used for nurture and healing. I wonder how far I can push her? There’s darkness in her, darkness that grows when she sees what atrocities humans are capable of. Darkness that I can feed. “You’ve been wanting to do something to this for a while now, haven’t you?” My words are soft and understanding. “You’ve seen so much evil in this world.” So much evil. And all she can do is to try and fix what is already broken by the world. Finally, she cannot hold my gaze for longer. She looks away. I smile at her hesitation and take her hand. She lets me have it but she dares not look me in the eyes. “I have,” she admits to both counts. “But you’re afraid.” “Yes,” she admits. “You’re afraid of what it would make you.” She doesn’t need to confirm it. [[Continue|c6_t_shield]]

She looks to the side, shielding herself from my gaze. She’s just like me. She wants to bring justice to the world because no one else will. She’s seen the most evil things a human is capable of doing. Just like me. Just like me, she wants to end it. I can show her how. “Tinsae,” I say and she raises her gaze. I wonder if she will do it? I wonder if I will? Either way, after we find out the location of my brother and sister, the slaver will die tomorrow. With a sharp inhale, she takes her hand back. She saw something in my eyes. Something she could harbor in her gaze too, if she’d just let it fester. “Tomorrow will bring clarity,” I say in a hushed voice. And she nods. Tomorrow will be an interesting day. She drinks her stale coffee to take her mind off things. Of my words. Her breath is shaky as she says, “You’ve certainly given me much to think about.” [[She changes the subject.|c6_t_quinn?]]

Determination hardens my words. If no one else will rid the world of his evil, I will. Tinsae gives me a long, pondering look. Finally, she says, “You would taint your hands and your heart in the process.” \<<if $determined is true>> “There’s nothing left to taint.” She shakes her head in clear denial. “But there is. And I'd be loath to see it.” I look at my hands. They’re black with blood. I draw in breath, blink, and the vision is gone. Tinsae takes my hand. Blood taints her skin. She doesn’t say anything, she merely holds it. \<<else>> I would. But maybe it should be me who does it. My mind is already beaten and broken, filled with holes. Might as well taint my hands, too. I look at my hands. They’re black with blood. I draw in breath, blink, and the vision is gone. Tinsae takes my hand. Blood taints her skin. She doesn’t say anything, she merely holds it. <</if>>\ “I admire your determination.” Her words ring true. She does. [[Continue|c6_t_returnthequestion]]

As a reflex to shield myself from the pain she will cause me in the future, I yank my hands back. And she looks at me with some confusion. However, seeing my face he nods in understanding. “I will help you,” she repeats. “If there’s anything I can do, I will.” Her words ring true but it seems that there’s more that I want from her. And she won’t be able to give it to me. When I hold my peace for long enough, she finally breaks the silence. “There is something else I wanted to talk about." [["I found the slaver who sold your siblings."|c6_t_slaver]]

She will leave me, that much is certain. What will I do then? Why am I so clinged onto her anyway? I’m alone, I should be used to it by now. A hand caresses my hair, making me flinch. “I will help you,” she promises. Her words ring true but it seems that there’s more that I want from her. And she won’t be able to give it to me. When I hold my peace for long enough, she finally breaks the silence. “There is something else I wanted to talk about." [["I found the slaver who sold your siblings."|c6_t_slaver]]

I want to see her flinch, for that’s what I expected of her. However, she doesn’t. Instead, she nods. “It is an understandable reaction to what happened to you.” “It… is?” It is. She merely nods, and waits for me to continue. But I don’t know what else to say. Is there anything else to say? “You don’t care that I’d enjoy it?” That I said I would. I’m not sure if I would or not. “If you truly would, I’d care,” she simply states. “However, there’s a leap the size of an elephant between words and actions.” I frown at her understanding words. I expected to be shunned, not this. Not… Understood. Seen. She gives my confusion a warm, small smile. “The darkness in your heart is perfectly natural, dear. But I see the good in you. I see the light.” [[Scoff.|c6_t_scoff]] [["...Really?"|c6_t_really?]] [[Remain silent.|c6_t_silent3]]

There’s a small smile on her lips as she says, “Why do you care if I believe it or not?” I frown at the words. I don’t. I just… She lets the silence linger a moment more as I gather my thoughts on the matter. Finally, she says, “It is an understandable reaction to what happened to you.” “It… is?” It is. “Before you do anything hasty, dear, don’t you think we should focus on your little brother and sister?” I cringe at the mention of them. I try not to think about them too much, it makes me feel powerless and pathetic. “Have you heard from them?” “Yes.” [[Continue|c6_t_slaver]]

Silence hangs between us. The air remains the same, even if I expected it to turn more hostile and awkward. However, she doesn’t look bothered. Instead, she looks at me with sympathy in her gaze. Finally, she says, “It is an understandable reaction to what happened to you.” “It is.” But it’s not what I expected her to say. I give her a small frown and she answers in a smile. “Before you do anything hasty, dear, don’t you think we should focus on your little brother and sister?” I cringe at the mention of them. I try not to think about them too much, it makes me feel powerless and pathetic. “Have you heard from them?” “Yes.” [[Continue|c6_t_slaver]]

She pays no mind to my disapproval. Instead, she smiles and takes my hand in hers. “You are a beautiful soul, I can tell. Beautiful, mistreated soul.” I look at her hand in mine. Elegant and soft, just like all of her. “What if you’re wrong?” I ask. Because she is. She keeps holding onto my hand, tightly, but not too tight. “I’m not.” Such determination, stubbornness. It almost makes me want to prove her wrong. “We’ll see,” I say with a smile of my own. Seeing my gaze she momentarily lets go of my hand before grabbing it again, this time with even more determination. “We will.” She sighs. “Before you do anything hasty, dear, don’t you think we should focus on your little brother and sister?” I cringe at the mention of them. I try not to think about them too much, it makes me feel powerless and pathetic. “Have you heard from them?” “Yes. I found the slaver who sold them.” [[Continue|c6_t_slaver]]

I frown at her words. Why would she think that? She takes my hand in hers. “You are a beautiful soul, I can tell. Beautiful, mistreated soul.” I look at her hand in mine. Elegant and soft, just like all of her. “How do you know that?” I ask. “I sense it. I know you.” It almost makes me believe her. I quickly yank my hand and look away from her earnest gaze. I can’t bear to see the sincerity in her gaze. “Before you do anything hasty, dear, don’t you think we should focus on your little brother and sister?” I cringe at the mention of them. I try not to think about them too much, it makes me feel powerless and pathetic. “Have you heard from them?” “Yes. I found the slaver who sold them.” [[Continue|c6_t_slaver]]

She takes my hand in hers. “You are a beautiful soul, I can tell. Beautiful, mistreated soul.” With a frown, I continue to look at our intertwined hands. A beautiful soul? That’s a first. I’m not sure what to say to her, how to respond. What she expects of me. “Before you do anything hasty, dear, don’t you think we should focus on your little brother and sister?” I cringe at the mention of them. I try not to think about them too much, it makes me feel powerless and pathetic. “Have you heard from them?” “Yes. I found the slaver who sold them.” [[Continue|c6_t_slaver]]

Honest to a fault, my words ring true. I can’t promise her I won’t entertain the idea for I already am entertaining it. And she sighs in weary disappointment. “I made a mistake in telling you,” she says. Perhaps from her point of view. From mine, this brings me more opportunities. “I don’t think so.” I smile. “Of course not.” She’s not amused. I didn’t expect her to be. [[Continue|c6_t_religion]]

I’m not above giving promises I can’t keep. It makes people more at ease and I can ponder on my actions at a later date. It’s a win-win situation, if anything. Tinsae lets out a relieved exhale. She wants to believe me. [[Continue|c6_t_religion]]

[[c6_t_revenge]]

\<<set $tinsae_kiss to true>> I give her a little shake of my head. Just a tiny one, just so she can see it. Her hand lands on my cheek as she embraces my gaze. She kisses me. Her soft lips land on mine and it’s every bit as gentle as I imagined it to be. Like a feather, her lips dance on mine, light in their caress. [[Deepen the kiss.|c6_t_deeper]] [[Keep the kiss chaste and sweet.|c6_t_chaste]]

\<<set $tinsae_kiss to true>> I grab her chin and guide her closer. She follows my silent instructions obediently and with a sweet smile on her lips. I kiss her. Her soft lips land on mine and it’s every bit as gentle as I imagined it to be. Like a feather, her lips dance on mine, light in their caress. [[Deepen the kiss.|c6_t_deeper]] [[Keep the kiss chaste and sweet.|c6_t_chaste]]

The gentle smile doesn’t leave her lips. “Of course, dear. You can always tell me if something makes you uncomfortable.” I give her a brief smile. “Thank you.” “Do you mind me kissing your hand?” she asks. No, I don’t think so. Her touch is soft and silken and it’s chaste enough. “Good to know,” she says. She runs her index finger across my skin. “Your hands are beautiful.” “No one’s said that before.” “Fools, all of them,” she playfully berates my past friends and acquaintances for not praising the beauty of my hands. “Sword and war has hardened them but there’s a sense of softness still lingering behind. The skin of a priest, a person of knowledge and beauty. I give her an appreciative grunt and she gives me a bright, joyous laugh in return. She recedes back to her coach. [[Continue|c6_t_revenge]]

\<<set $tinsae_hurt to true>> She’s leaving, who knows how soon. I won’t see her ever again, I shouldn’t get too attached. Sure, I don’t know how long I’ll be here myself. But it’s something else when the other person is the one leaving. And it’s for certain. She gives me a long look. She doesn’t ask, it’s probably better not to talk about it. She recedes back to her coach. [[Continue|c6_t_revenge]]

Light and soft is nice enough, but I need more. Harder. I grab her delicate shoulders and snatch her closer. I awaited her to moan in surprise but she’s not so easily startled. Instead, she answers my kiss, matching my hunger. She grabs my shoulders and nibbles at my lower lip, smiling against my lips. “You’re a biter?” I ask. I didn’t expect that. “No. But you seem like one.” “You just wanted to match my energy?” “Precisely.” She giggles. Good to know. I reach out to touch her silken dress, tainting it with my wet, oily touch. I squeeze her full breasts, making her purr in pleasure against my lips. She smiles at my touch and grabs my arm, holding herself in place as I try to yank her into the barrel with me. She breaks the kiss laughing. “I’m not coming inside the barrel.” When I grunt in displeasure, she tries to defend her case, “But I've got all my clothes on.” “Take them off,” I order her with my voice low and demanding. Her eyes widen momentarily with desire. Then, she playfully punches my arm. “No! I can’t fit in there. It would overflow and–” She gestures at the expensive-looking wooden floor. “No!” she repeats as if she’s commanding a stubborn dog. Her bright laughter rings in the room. “I can get off and–” “No,” she says in a more serious tone, still the same smile lingering on her lips. “Not right now. There are other things to discuss.” “Fine,” I sigh in defeat. She rolls her eyes playfully and recedes back to her coach. [[Continue|c6_t_revenge]]

I enjoy her sweetness, the taste of her lips. \<<if $tinsae_sad is true>> Her kisses taste sweet but there’s a tinge of bitterness to them. It might be my own lips souring the kiss. I grab her arm, squeeze it a little too tight. I try not to think of her leaving, try to focus on the fact that she’s still here with me. But it’s difficult. Her warm skin holds my hand as she smiles against my lips. Gently, she moves my hand away. She breaks the kiss with a somber smile. “Dear, I can tell your thoughts are elsewhere.” “They are,” I admit. “We can continue this at another time, if you want to.” I nod. She recedes back to her coach, leaving me miss her warmth. [[Continue|c6_t_revenge]] \<<else>> She tastes like honey and warm spices, of coffee. She gently grabs the back of my neck to balance herself as she’s leaning against me, as she’s humming against my lips. Finally, the kiss ends. But she lingers with her forehead against mine, her breath tickling my skin with its warmth. She recedes back to her coach, leaving me miss her warmth. [[Continue|c6_t_revenge]] <</if>>\

\<<set $marcus_bath to true>> !!Marcus's villa? I gaze at the villa with some suspicion. Can I really just go in there? I didn’t know Marcus had his own villa. “Just march right in, boy. My Lord told me to hurry you up if you stood around gawking at nothin’.” “Excuse me?” I frown at the wagon driver. “You heard me.” He gives me a toothless grin. Of course Marcus would order his lackeys to taunt me. He’s not even here and he’s making my blood boil. \<<if $quinn_first_pick is true>> I wouldn’t even be here in the first place if Quinn didn’t let me down. <</if>>\ [[Make a rude gesture at the driver and leave.]] [[“You can tell your master that he can go suck himself.”]] [[Thank the rude man for the ride and leave.]] [[Leave in silence.]]

I show him exactly where to shove his recommendations. He laughs as I stomp away. [[Continue|marcus_bath1]]

The wagon rider bursts out laughing. “He was right. He told me you’d say that!” I grit my teeth and stomp away. [[Continue|marcus_bath1]]

“Thank you for your service,” I say, all but ignoring his rudeness. No need to sink into other people’s rudeness. He gives me another smirk but holds off any further insults. [[Continue|marcus_bath1]]

With a small shake of my head I leave him to his vices. And to think that I’ll have to share a ride with that man back to the barracks. [[Continue|marcus_bath1]]

Wet snow makes my advancement in the stone pavement laborious and my boots soggy. Yet, there’s a spring in my step I haven’t had for a long time. I can actually bathe today. Alone. \<<if $sex is "male">> I’ve found myself thinking that perhaps the Romans have forgotten about the druids they slaughtered, perhaps the tattoo wouldn’t catch any unwanted attention anymore. But it hasn’t been that long since they slaughtered my clan. It would be foolish to try my luck just for a bath. Thankfully, now I can finally get rid of the smell. \<<elseif $sex is "female">> The skin under my bindings lets out another tired groan of agony. Soon. Soon I can get out of this thing. Every breath I take pains my side; I try not to think whether or not I have a broken rib. I can’t wait to breathe without restraints, without the fear of getting caught. <</if>>\ The pathetic attempts at bathing in the river did nothing to get rid of the smell. It's there, it lingers in my nostrils whenever I move. It's there even when I lie down motionless. [[I rush towards the entrance.]]

A servant, perhaps a slave, stands at the door. He looks like he’s been expecting me. He gives me a warm smile, almost out of place, like he’s meeting his grandchildren returning from their first hunting trip. \<<if $niall_bath is true>> "Master Hati. My name is Paios and I’ll be in your service. My Lord told me to expect you and to give you everything you might require." His grayish hair is receding and there’s an accent in his tongue that I can’t quite place. “Niall did?” “Yes. He wanted to see to it that your every need is fulfilled.” Nice of him. \<<elseif $marcus_bath is true>> "Master Hati. My name is Paios and I’ll be in your service. My Lord’s esteemed brother told me to expect you and to give you everything you might require." His grayish hair is receding and there’s an accent in his tongue that I can’t quite place. Also, there’s something else that caught my attention. “Your Lord’s esteemed brother? Paios nods. “Indeed. This is Lord Tribune’s villa and his brother and your Lord Centurion, Marcellus, told me to await you here.” He seems to get lost in thought. “There was something else I was supposed to tell you but I seem to have forgotten about it. When you reach my age…” I sigh. “He told you to insult me, didn’t he?” “My memory doesn't serve me well, Master.” Liar. <</if>> [[Greet him properly. He seems a kind man.]] [[Greet him properly. It's the appropriate thing to do.]] [["Whatever. I'm here to bathe."]] [[Give him a small nod.|c6_m_nod]]

I bow my head and give him a small smile. "Are you Greek?" “Indeed." A pleased smile lightens up his face. "Are you familiar with my town, Athens?" "I haven't had a chance to visit. But I've heard only good things." The merchant who taught me Greek told me that they are people of wisdom. Romans forced them to bend the knee but they could only wish to be as civilized as the Greeks are. Well, her words, not mine. "I'm pleased to hear that, Master. However, I doubt any culture deserves only praise." "Alas, that is not what's important right now. Your bath is." [["Please, follow me."|c6_paios_follow]]

I give him a nonchalant nod, eagerly awaiting for him to guide me to the pool area. “Indeed, Master. Time is of essence.” [["Please, follow me."|c6_paios_follow]]

He guides me through an entrance hall towards a once beautiful garden, now devoured by winter breeze. [[I recognize the plants.|c6_m_plants][$herbalist to true]] [[I'm not familiar with the plants.|c6_m_noplants]]

There are many flowers and bushes native to Britannia. Easter lilies, bog rosemaries, primroses… And a beautiful tree of wild cherry, its berries already picked apart by feasting birds. Of course Niall would pick plants from Britannia. \<<if $marcus_bath is true>> Speaking of Niall, for all his talk about private baths, I really thought that Marcus had his own. I try not to judge. Sure, I don't have one. But at least I don't go around inviting people to my non-existent villas. <</if>>\ Paios must’ve thought I was admiring the decoration. “My Lord has a good taste, indeed. Lord Marcellus did help him with it.” He pauses. “It might explain the baths…” “Baths?” “The decoration in the baths is peculiar, I must warn you.” “How so?” “You’ll see, Master Hati. But try not to judge.” [[Continue|fishdick]]

Some look vaguely familiar but plants have a tendency to look similar to each other. Knowing Niall, however, they’re from Britannia. \<<if $marcus_bath is true>> Speaking of Niall, for all his talk about private baths, I really thought that Marcus had his own. I try not to judge. Sure, I don't have one. But at least I don't go around inviting people to my non-existent villas. <</if>>\ Paios must’ve thought I was admiring the decoration. “My Lord has a good taste, indeed. Lord Marcellus did help him with it.” He pauses. “It might explain the baths…” “Baths?” “The decoration in the baths is peculiar, I must warn you.” “How so?” “You’ll see, Lord Hati. But try not to judge.” [[Continue|fishdick]]

My interest is piqued as I follow Paios through the door. But, there's nothing out of the ordinary: Live plants decorate the pool room, giving it a feel of the garden. Green marble continues the theme of greenery. The pool itself is quite large. And the water is so clear you can see the mosaics underneath. Fish. Paios takes a deep breath as if preparing for my judgment. I take a closer look at the fish. \<<if $clueless is true>> Am I supposed to see something? The shape is elongated and the fins are round. It doesn’t look like any fish I’ve ever seen but… “What do you mean, Paios? All I see is fish. Is it a Roman species?” Paios gives me a long look. Too long. Then, he smiles. There’s something about that smile, and there’s a distinct feeling that I’m missing something. “Yes, my Lord. It is,” he says. He walks off, still smiling. “Roman species it is, indeed.” I frown after him. He’s almost certainly making fun of me. I take another look at the fish but can’t see anything amiss. \<<elseif $shy_pervert is true>> They’re clearly dicks. Their fins are balls, their elongated bodies the shaft. And Niall chose this? Why? I silently judge the design but decide to hold my peace. Paios sighs in clear relief. It doesn’t seem like a suitable conversation to him, either. I’m left looking, judging, at the mosaics. What a weird choice, Niall. This doesn’t seem like you at all. Is he a closet-pervert or is there something I’m missing? I will have to ask him when I next see him. \<<elseif $loud_pervert is true>> They’re clearly dicks. Their fins are balls, their elongated bodies the shaft. And Niall chose this? Why? “Why would Niall decorate his baths with dicks?” Paios purses his lips. “I’d call them phallic fish, my Lord.” “Why would Niall decorate his baths with di–phallic fish?” “One shouldn’t judge, my Lord. One shouldn’t judge,” he mutters and walks off. I’m left looking, judging, at the mosaics. What a weird choice, Niall. This doesn’t seem like you at all. Is he a closet-pervert or is there something I’m missing? I will have to ask him when I next see him. \<<elseif $not_interested is true>> Fish decorate the bottom of the pool. The shape is peculiar, not something I’ve seen before. However, there are more important things at hand. Paios gives me a quick glance. “Do you not mind, my Lord?” “The fish? No.” He sighs in relief and leaves the room. <</if>> [[Soon enough, Paios returns with a platter of food.]]

“My Lord told me to offer these to you.” \<<if $niall_bath is true>> “Right. He was concerned about the state of my tummy.” “Indeed he was, Master Hati.” He gives me an amused smile. [[Continue|c6_m_silence]] \<<elseif $marcus_bath is true>> “Niall did? Not Marcus?” Paios smiles. “Ah, no. Lord Marcellus didn’t ask me to do this. He said that…” Paios’s smile freezes as he apparently thinks on Marcus’s words. “Never mind that, Master.” “Marcus told you to insult me?” “No. Of course not. That would be highly rude of him.” “It would be. That’s his modus operandi.” “I have absolutely no idea what you are talking about, Master.” [[Of course he doesn't.|c6_m_silence]] <</if>>\

There’s an uncomfortable silence between us. I almost ask him to leave me to bathe in peace until he says: \<<if $niall_bath is true>> “My Lord has always been a thoughtful boy. A man,” he quickly corrects himself. “Boy? Have you known him for long?” “Years, Master Hati.” He falls silent, as if reminiscing the past. “Are you aware of my Lord’s past?” Paios asks. “That he was kidnapped by the Empire? Yes.” “Kidnapped,” Paios says, musing on the word. “He was. Harsh politics always wound the most vulnerable. As you can imagine, it took a toll on the young Lord, even if he doesn’t show it.” Niall as a child, arriving in Rome alone and afraid. I wonder if he cried the whole trip? Paios sighs. "Well, I shan't ruin your bath with such talk. If you have any need of me, please let me know.” With these words, he takes his leave. [[Finally. Alone.|c6_m_alone]] \<<elseif $marcus_bath is true>> “I hope you don’t mind me asking but… are you and Lord Centurion close, perchance?” I frown at the question. Close? [[Close? I want to kill him.][$marcus_killer to true]] [[“I wouldn’t say that, no.” It’s too complicated to explain.]] [["Absolutely not!"]] [["Not really." I just needed to take a bath.]] <</if>>

\<<if $earth is true>> Briefly reminisce in the thought of killing Marcus. [[It would be just.|c6_m_silencekiller]] \<<elseif $fire is true>> “I’ll be close with him when my dagger pierces his belly.” [[Did I say that out loud...?|c6_m_outloud?]] \<<elseif $air is true>> Briefly reminisce in the thought of killing Marcus. [[It would serve him right.|c6_m_shrugkiller]] \<<elseif $water is true>> If I opened my mouth right now, I would most likely incriminate myself. Lies don't leave me easily. [[Instead, I give him a smile.|c6_m_pleasantkiller]] <</if>>

Where to even start with our 'relationship'? How he killed my family, destroyed everything I hold dear. /<<if $determined is true>> How I’m supposed to be here to kill not only his father, but also him. /<<else>> How my mind is a shattered mess and I have no idea what I’m supposed to do about it. About him. <</if>>\ No. That’s not something to share with a man whom I barely know. “I see. Lord Marcellus did mention that your relationship is complicated.” “An understatement." "I'll say. But, if you don’t want to share, I certainly won’t pry.” With these words, and a smile to accompany them, he takes his leave. [[Finally. Alone.|c6_m_alone]]

The thought almost shoots fire up to my cheeks. But I also realize that my reaction was a tad too strong. “Alright, I’m sorry for asking,” he says with a smile on his face. “But... What are you doing here, then?” [[What am I doing here?|c6_m_whatareyoudoing]]

“Oh, my mistake then.” He nods. “If you have any need of me, please let me know.” With these words he takes his leave. Even if I'd rather not dwell on it, there is the question as to why I'm here. Sure, I’m here because I need to bathe. But, was it really my only chance to get help from Marcus? What about the others? I’m sure Quinn, at least, could’ve helped me. However, I accepted Marcus’s invitation. Why? Well, never mind that. [[Finally. Alone.|c6_m_alone]]

But, my features betray no emotion as I look at the man who inquired about him. "We are not exactly close, no," I reply briefly. "I see. But... why are you here, then?" Perhaps fortune favors me and the fool marches through those doors and joins me in the bath. That is what I want to say. Instead, however, I say: "To take a bath." "Oh! But of course, of course. How foolish of me to keep you waiting. I apologize." With these words, he finally leaves. [[Finally. Alone.|c6_m_alone]]

A pleasant smile lingers on my lips as I give him a small shrug. He reads the situation to his liking, and a smile appears on his face to mimic mine. "I see." He pauses as he studies my smile. Finally, he nods. “If you have any need of me, please let me know.” With these words he takes his leave. [[Finally. Alone.|c6_m_alone]]

Finally, and with the deepest breath, I sink into the pool. Warm water welcomes me in its embrace, soothing my mind. A sigh escapes me: it echoes in the room alone, uninterrupted. Someone is playing a flute in the distance; close enough for me to hear it, far enough so they won’t disturb me. Niall’s doing, most likely. Considerate. It’s not that I needed my own flutist but it’s nice enough to have one. \<<if $sex is "female">> Paios should be long gone by now. My hands wander to my bindings, eager to rip them off in one single motion, to tear the cage that's been holding me for so long. However, it’s going to hurt. Just as I’m bracing myself for the pain to come, the silence is disturbed. \<<elseif $sex is "male">> Just as I’m about to start scrubbing myself clean, a distant sound makes me frown. <</if>>\ “I came here first, Marcus!” Niall. And, of course, Marcus’s voice follows: “You call that coming? You stood at your own door looking like a lost puppy.” “Yes, it is my door! I can order you to leave.” “Ha! Try me, Tribune.” And just like that, the peace and quiet is at an end. [[Continue|c6_m_boysarehere]]

However, this is not the time nor place to share my fantasies of killing that bastard. No, it’s better to change the subject. I give him a nonchalant shrug. "I see." He pauses as he studies my expression. Finally, he nods. “If you have any need of me, please let me know.” With these words he takes his leave. [[Finally. Alone.|c6_m_alone]]

Paios’s brows jump to his hairline. I definitely said that out loud. Before I can explain myself, however, he says: “Lord Marcellus did mention that your relationship is complicated.” He looks less surprised by the fact than he probably should. There must be many eager victims of his to put a dagger in that fool’s belly. “An understatement,” I say. "I'll say. Do you mind me asking what soured your relationship?” [[“He killed my father.”]] [["I do mind."]]

He raises his eyebrows again. This conversation seems to be a good source of exercise for his forehead muscles. “Truly? Why are you here then? Wait.” He quickly shakes his head. “No. It's probably better if I know nothing else. Forgive my inquiry.” I nod. “And... for what it's worth, I’m sorry for your loss.” With these words, he takes his leave. [[Finally. Alone.|c6_m_alone]]

“I understand. I see that you’ve been hurt. I’m sorry on behalf of Lord Marcellus, whatever it was that he did.” A small grace but I give him a quick nod. “If you have any need of me, please let me know.” With these words, he takes his leave. [[Finally. Alone.|c6_m_alone]]

I look at my chest and cringe. They shouldn’t be here. The water level is high, so they shouldn’t be able to see my chest. Still, the sound of those two makes my chest tighten. \<<if $sex is "male">> Would Niall understand the meaning behind the tattoo? He wasn’t there when my kin was slaughtered. The thought makes me breathe a little easily. <</if>>\ First, Marcus’s face pops into view. He’s wearing a smug grin, as per usual. \<<if $marcus_killer is true>> An urge to stab him flashes through me. And it looks like he knows it, for his grin merely widens. <</if>>\ Niall’s face soon follows. He looks distraught and annoyed. He quickly glances at me, careful not to look at me for too long, and an apologetic smile lingers on his features. And I let out a deep, deep sigh. [[Continue|boys are here]]

"What a surprise!" Marcus's voice booms in the empty pool room, making the hair in the back of my neck stand up. This was no surprise. Both of them are here to gawk at me. I quickly assess my situation: I’m sunk deep in the water and it’s relatively dim. The ceiling window offers some light but it’s not enough to penetrate the waters. There are two braziers, both of them positioned in a way that my chest area is left in the shadows. A small grace. Marcus knows who I am but Niall doesn’t. I’m not sure if I want to keep it that way. Niall throws a frown at Marcus for claiming the whole situation a surprise. Then, he looks at the floor, not me. "Marcus told me you're here and I realized there are no towels. I was going to give them to Paios but he was gone. I mean he could be here somewhere but I didn't look, I thought that you needed towels and umm, here I am. The towels, too. The towels are here." I look at Niall as he rambles on. When it finally ceases, Marcus gives Niall a dirty, knowing grin. “What Niall meant to say is that he came here to stalk you naked and I’m here to stop him.” He srugs. “I’m that good of a man.” Niall frowns. “I don’t even know what you’re doing here! I have the towels as an exc–, a reason.” “I just told you what I’m doing here.” [[Look at Marcus. “So, you’re the hero in this scenario? Oh, please.”]] [[I rub my temples. “I’m not in the mood for this.” I specifically said that I want to bathe alone.]] [[Look at Niall. “You came all the way here just to hand me towels?”]] [[I’m worried about this. Niall could find out about me.]]

He perks up, all too happy that I chose to take his bait. Yes, apparently I chose to take the said bait. I could’ve ignored him but here we are. Niall gives his brother a small frown. None too happily he gives me a quick glance as if to say: ‘What have you done?’ I’m sorry, Niall. [[Marcus, unfortunately, starts talking:]]

“I must’ve misheard,” Marcus says with an infuriating shrug. “I thought you specifically said you wanted my company.” I merely give him a dead stare. He’s fully in the know that I didn’t care for his company, nor anyone else’s. “I’m sorry, Hati,” Niall says, rubbing the back of his neck. “We can just go.” “I’m not going anywhere,” Marcus declares. “I can just drag you out of here,” Niall declares back at him. That would be a sight to see. They stare at each other, neither of them backing down. Finally, I can faintly see Marcus saying something, not audible enough for me to hear. Niall flushes red. “I think I should go,” he mutters. [[“Wait, Niall, don’t go. I’d prefer if you stayed.”]] [[Let him go.|c6_m_let niallgo]]

“Stalk you naked,” Marcus corrects me. Niall starts to match the color of his hair. “I was just worried that Paios forgot–” “You don’t trust him to even give your guest towels!” Marcus says, acting mockingly surprised. Niall grits his teeth. “I know, I… I will just go. I will leave these towels here. Goodbye.” The string of words leaving his muttering mouth is hasty as he drops the towels onto the nearby chair and starts hurrying towards the door. [[Let him go.|c6_m_let niallgo]] [["Niall, I'm sorry–"|c6_m_niallisgone]] [["Stop! Niall. Don't leave."|c6_m_nialldontgo]]

I sink even deeper into the pool. Marcus sees it. Of course he does. And, he gives me a devious look. “Hm.” He smiles like the little shit he is. “Hey, Niall. Shouldn’t you walk a little closer to Hati?” “What? Why?” “To give him the towels, of course.” Niall frowns as he glances at me. “I can just leave them here for him to get them.” “You’d make Hati stand up and get them? How naughty of you.” Niall exhales deeply, evidently calming himself. “I know what you’re doing and it won’t work. Hati can get them when he’s ready. When both of us are out of here and he can bathe in peace.” “But that would be no fun.” Marcus grins. “Hati is not here for your entertainment. I think we should go.” “I’m not going anywhere,” Marcus declares. “I can just drag you out of here.” Niall declares back at him. That would be a sight to see. They stare at each other, neither of them backing down. Finally, I can faintly see Marcus saying something, not audible enough for me to hear. As a result, Niall flushes red. “I think I should go,” he mutters. [[“Wait, Niall, don’t go. I’d prefer if you stayed.”]]

I suppose that is a good question. Sure, I’m here because I need to bathe. But, was it really my only chance to get help from Marcus? What about the others? I’m sure Quinn, at least, could’ve helped me. However, I accepted Marcus’s invitation. Why? Paios gives me an infuriatingly knowing smile, as if he knew anything about me. "Well, never mind that, Master. If you have any need for me, please let me know.” With these words he takes his leave. [[Finally. Alone.|c6_m_alone]]

“Yes. I’m the hero and just wait, for I shall tell you the whole story.” He takes an obviously exaggerated breath and starts his monologue: “Here I was, merely shielding your door from any and all intruders, given that your… predicament–” He gives my chest an obvious glance. “–means that you can’t fend them off without my assistance. As you must remember, I have saved your life many a times before this, and guarding your bath door is merely the continuation of that mission. So, when I smelled the familiar, and disgustingly sweet floral perfume–” “Hey! It’s not disgusting.” Niall pouts at the accusation. “–and his lame excuse of a towel rack in his hands–” “It’s not an excuse!” “–I knew I was right to come here. For your secret, dearest Hati, is going to be safe with me. I will shield it with my life. Even against my own brother.” Niall frowns at the word ‘secret’ as Marcus takes another exaggerated breath, ending his speech with a mockingly determined frown on his face. \<<if $fire is true>> “Shut your piehole, Marcus, or I’ll shut it for you,” I hiss at the idiot. He merely gives me his stupid grin, shutting the said piehole before I have the chance. \<<elseif $water is true>> “Marcus…” I sigh and rub my temples. “My name sounds all too sweet on your tongue.” Twins, grant me strength. \<<elseif $air is true>> I breathe in, and out, all but ignoring his ramblings. He gives me an expectant glance but when I give him nothing in return, he looks at Niall, expecting a reaction from him, instead. <<elseif $earth is true>> I merely give Marcus a long, expressionless look. And he gives me an expectant glance in return but when I give him nothing else, he looks at Niall, expecting a reaction from him, instead. <</if>>\ To think that he acts as if my secret was just a fun game for him is… “You’re clearly bullying Hati, Marcus. Stop it.” [[“Marcus, maybe you should leave and let me spend time with your brother, instead.”]] [["Marcus, you know this isn't funny to me."]] <<if $marcus_killer is true>> [[I will kill him.|c6_m_murderpleasestay]] <</if>>

I give Marcus a mockingly innocent smile and turn my attention to the said brother, whose face is gaining a hue of redness. “Huh?” Niall says. “I mean yes. If you want to, I can throw him out of here.” “Throw me out–” “I will.” Niall steels his features and looks at Marcus with a face that means business. “You’re constantly bullying him. I’m putting an end to this.” Marcus scoffs at the accusation. “Well, Hati. Am I bullying you? Do you want me to leave?” [[“Yes. Go.”|c6_m_leavemarcusleave]] [[“No. Stay.”|c6_m_marcusstay]]

Instead of throwing insults at him like he’d deserve, I choose to try to appeal to his sense of empathy. Which might be a losing battle, given his ability to be a stubborn, heartless jerk. But, for my surprise, a brief shadow flashes through his face and he says: “I know. I’m sorry.” Niall looks at his brother with his brows high up to his forehead. “Sorry? Just like that?” “Shut up.” “You never say sorry. To anyone. Well, unless it’s Robus. Or Antonia.” Marcus grits his teeth. Niall turns to me with a wide smile on his face. “I suppose congratulations are in order, you’re now officially in the same club with his dog and niece.” “Great,” I say, my tone awfully dry still. Getting him to apologize for his idiocy is the bare minimum to be expected. Marcus starts walking towards the door. “Where are you going?” Niall asks. “I remembered something I need to do.” Ugh. Now he’s acting like I hurt his feelings for saying that he hurt mine. [[Let him leave. He’s an idiot.|c6_m_leavemarcusleave]] [["Wait, Marcus. Don't go."]]

“Be still, my bleeding heart,” Marcus says with a shitty grin. “Yes yes, your heart can bleed out on the floor for all I care. Now go,” I say, shooing him off. For a mere moment, I can almost see a small, hurt pout appear on his face. But it’s gone as quickly as it appears. “Do have a lovely evening, you two. Don’t let me disturb your quality time.” He shoves Niall on his shoulder, seemingly playfully, but I wouldn’t be surprised if he aimed to push him into the pool. Niall, however, stands his ground. “Ask Hati why he doesn’t want to show you his chest.” Before I can protest, he gives me a stupid little wink, smacks Niall on his shoulder and saunters off as if he achieved something. [[Continue|c6_n_nialldontgo]]

“Huh? You would?” He gives Marcus a quick glance. “Better you than him,” I say and Marcus gives me a mockingly incredulous gasp. “Be still, my bleeding heart,” he says with a shitty grin. “Yes yes, your heart can bleed out on the floor for all I care. Now go. No one wants you here,” I say, shooing him off. For a mere moment, I can almost see a small, hurt pout appear on his face. But it’s gone as quickly as it appears. “Do have a lovely evening, you two. Don’t let me disturb your quality time.” He shoves Niall on his shoulder, seemingly playfully, but I wouldn’t be surprised if he aimed to push him into the pool. Niall, however, stands his ground. “Ask Hati why he doesn’t want to show you his chest.” Before I can protest, he gives me a stupid little wink, smacks Niall on his shoulder and saunters off as if he achieved something. [[Continue|c6_n_nialldontgo]]

But Niall is surprisingly quick with his feet and he’s already gone. From the corner of my eye, I can see Marcus giving me a small grin. “You scared the poor boy off.” “Shut up,” I say, regretting my choices. Now I’m stuck with Marcus. Great. \<<if $marcus_killer is true>> At least I can kill him without witnesses. <</if>>\ [[Continue|c6_m_niallbegone]]

I look at Niall’s receding back, wondering if I made the right decision. Sure, it might be dangerous if more people knew about me. But do I really want to spend time with Marcus, instead? I give the said Marcus a quick glance. And he shoots me with a wide, snarky grin. Great. \<<if $marcus_killer is true>> At least I can kill him without witnesses. <</if>>\ [[Continue|c6_m_niallbegone]]

He stops in his tracks due to my command. He turns to me with his face still flushed with embarrassment, but now it’s accompanied with perplexion. “Alright,” he says, promptly obeying me. Marcus snickers. “Is he your dog?” “Shut up,” both Niall and I say, making the snicker turn into that of a chuckle. “Do have a lovely evening, you two. Don’t let me disturb your quality time.” He shoves Niall on his shoulder, seemingly playfully, but I wouldn’t be surprised if he aimed to push him into the pool. Niall, however, stands his ground. “Ask Hati why he doesn’t want to show you his chest.” Before I can protest, he gives me a stupid little wink, smacks Niall on his shoulder and saunters off as if he achieved something. [[Continue|c6_n_nialldontgo]]

He stops in his tracks and waits, as if checking if he heard correctly. Niall, too, gives me a curious look. \<<if $marcus_killer is true>> And I try my best not to look too suspicious, as if I want Marcus to stay here because I might be catching feelings. Not because I want to kill him, no. Of course not. That would be terrible of me. \<<else>> But no one is as confused over my reaction than me. Why do I want him to stay here? He should be the last person I want to spend time with, yet here I am, begging that he’d stay. Ridiculous. <</if>>\ Marcus turns to me with a wide smile on his face. It’s not even a grin, it’s a smile. He looks annoyingly happy over my words. “I think I should go,” Niall says while he, too, is wearing a slightly perplexed smile. “I suppose so,” I mutter and look at the water. Meanwhile, Marcus is prancing back at me like he owned the place. Great. [[Continue|c6_m_niallbegone]]

\<<set $marcus_bath to true>> \<<if $marcus_killer is true>> To think that Marcus would be such a fool that he’d stay here willingly. Doesn’t he take my threats seriously? Or does he treat his own life lightly? [[Does he want me to kill him?]] \<<else>> Now that Niall is gone, and there's only him, me, and the regret gnawing at my stomach. Many of my life's decisions are questionable but this one takes the cake. In what world would I willingly let the murderer of my father bathe with me? What is wrong with me? And what is wrong with Marcus to accept it? For all he knows, I just want to kill him when he least suspects it. [[Perhaps I should kill him.|Does he want me to kill him?][$marcus_killer to true]] [[I don’t know what I’m doing.|c6_m_don'tknow]] [[I don’t think that I want to kill him. And it's concerning.]] [[I just want to bathe.|c6_m_justwanttobathe]] <</if>>

Just as the words leave my lips, I want to smack my mouth shut. Do I really want him to stay? What’s wrong with me? He should be the last person I want to spend time with, yet here I am, begging that he’d stay. Ridiculous. A smile widens Marcus’s lips. It’s not even a grin, it’s a smile. He looks annoyingly happy over my words. “I think I should go,” Niall says while he, too, is wearing a slightly perplexed smile. “I suppose so,” I mutter and look at the water. Meanwhile, Marcus is prancing back at me like he owned the place. Great. \<<if $marcus_killer is true>> At least I can kill him without witnesses. <</if>>\ [[Continue|c6_m_niallbegone]]

He just keeps making it easier for me. Every shitty grin, every insult makes the decision easier. It’s almost as if he wants me to kill him. “You look positively ferocious, Hati,” Marcus says. Niall gives me a concerned look. “Are you alright?” “I’m completely fine,” I say. It’s not even a lie, I will feel even better when Marcus’s blood taints the pool water. I smile at the thought. The smile manages to make Niall shoot me with another concerned look. Marcus smacks Niall’s back. “Niall, I think you should leave. Hati looks like he wants to talk with me.” “He does? I think he looks like he wants to kill you.” “It’s his typical expression when he wants to talk with me. Trust me.” I nod at the exchange. With a frown, Niall starts to walk towards the door. “Fine… If you’re sure?” “Completely,” Marcus and I say in unison. With an even deeper frown and a nod, Niall disappears out of the door. And I give Marcus a small, almost genuine smile. And he smiles back at me. [[Continue|c6_m_niallbegone]]

I even threatened him with a sword before. I would’ve killed him had not Floyd stepped in and stop me. Yet, he’s there. What's wrong with him? [[“Are you thinking what a good choice you made to let me bathe with you?”]]

I don’t know what my plan is, or if I even have one. \<<if $manipulated>> On the other hand, I don’t even know why I’m in Rome. It should be no wonder I have no plans for that idiot, either. I don't know what I'm doing. \<<elseif $determined>> I did have a plan. To kill them all. Do I still want that? He should be at the top of my kill list. Is he there? <</if>> [[“Are you thinking what a good choice you made to let me bathe with you?”]]

\<<if $earth is true>> I just give him a blank stare. And he gives me a wide grin in return. “Don’t look so grim. I’m sure you’ll perk up in no time when I bless the waters with my existence.” Bless the waters? Why am I here with him? \<<elseif (($fire is true) and ($marcus_killer is true))>> “I’m thinking that I must be insane to let you be here.” Alive, I should add. “I wouldn’t dare to argue against it, you seem quite mad. And feral.” \<<elseif (($fire is true) and ($marcus_killer isnot true))>> “I’m thinking that I must be insane to let you be here.” “I wouldn’t dare to argue against it, you seem quite mad.” \<<elseif $air is true>> “You’re welcome to think that,” I say in a dry tone. “Thank you kindly.” \<<elseif $water is true>> “No,” I say. "I am not." "Are you thinking the exact opposite?" "Pretty much, yes." <</if>> [[“Make room, I’m coming.”]]

\<<set $confused_marcus_killer to true>> Highly concerning. I should want to rip his heart out, shut his insulting mouth forever, make sure he won’t kill anyone ever again. But… no. Something within me protests against the idea. And it’s disgusting. Quinn would be disappointed with me right now. I can almost see $q_his gaze, questioning my sanity. [[“Are you thinking what a good choice you made to let me bathe with you?”]]

Sure. I do want that. However, maybe it would’ve been easier to let Niall be here, instead, if my plan was to bathe and only bathe. Marcus isn’t going to make it easy for me. I can see it in his eyes: he’s going to pester me. [[“Are you thinking what a good choice you made to let me bathe with you?”]]

Marcus raises his hands before taking off his belt. “Look, I get it. You wanted to bathe in peace. You finally could scrub that dirty skin of yours all clean and nice. Truly, we both want it to happen.” I frown. “I’m here because I can help you.” My frown deepens. “Not sold yet, I see. But, think of the efficiency. Two pairs of arms scrubbing your itchy skin instead of one.” \<<if $build is "lithe">> “Besides, my arms are significantly stronger than yours. I can get more grim off of your dirty, dirty self.” <</if>>\ I sigh. “You know you want to.” Do I? \<<if ($marcus_killer is true)>> [[I do. Makes it easier for me to kill him.]] [[Despite my motivations, the thought of him getting naked makes me feel things.|thirsty_marcus]] [[Play along flirtily with murder on my mind.]] \<<else>> [[“Are you coming or not?”]] [[Ignore him and start washing.]] [[Play along flirtily.]] <</if>>

I imagine it. How I would do it. How life would leave his eyes because of me. How his innards would paint the water crimson red. I wonder, would I stay in the pool, would I bathe in his blood? Or would it be too much? Does it matter? What would matter is that I’d finally be rid of him. The need to kill is intrusive, compulsing. A chuckle tries to force its way out of me. \<<if $earth is true>> But it doesn’t. It stays there buried where it belongs. I need to appear sane. He raises his brow at me but says nothing. \<<elseif $fire is true>> It escapes me and I all but slam my hand over my mouth. It sounded so– “That sounded positively $psychotic,” he finishes my thought. It did. I heard it, too. \<<elseif $air is true>> Just in time, I manage to change it into a mere puff of air, an innocent sigh. “What a sweet sound,” he comments, seemingly ignorant of my thoughts. \<<elseif $water is true>> It escapes me and my blood turns ice at the sound of it. It sounded so– “That sounded positively $psychotic,” he finishes my thought. It did. I heard it, too. It makes him hesitate just for one moment before he seemingly decides that a bath with me is a good idea. <</if>>\ [[He gives me an amused look.|murder_belt]]

Sure, I want to kill him. This makes it easier for me to kill him. However… The thought of him naked in the pool with me is a little distracting, to be honest. He’s easy on the eyes. If his grin didn’t make my blood boil, I would call it… Handsome? No. \<<if $earth is true>> Despite my thoughts, my expression remains the same. I give nothing away, the only thing I give him is a cold stare. And he shoots the stare right back at me, but not a cold one. Inquisitive, he’s looking for something incriminating. Something to tease me about. He won’t find it. \<<elseif $fire is true>> I grit my teeth to deny the heat rising up to my cheeks. I would hear no end of it. Take a grip, you fool. As I berate myself, Marcus gives me an all too knowing smile. “You do. Want to,” he almost purrs and it sounds so wrong but also not and– \<<elseif $air is true>> I empty my head and look away. Such dangerous thoughts swim around in my head, they should have no place in there. “Are you ignoring me?” Yes, I am. It always makes him the most mad. He shifts uncomfortably. \<<elseif $water is true>> I need to calm myself. So, I close my eyes and focus on the water. Warm, clear water. “Are you ignoring me?” “Yes, yes I am.” <</if>>\ [[Continue|murder_belt]]

\<<set $marcus_blackwidow to true>> I give him a sweet smile. Too sweet, like a jar of honey you could drown in. “I do. I want to.” He pauses as he studies the smile on my face. “Why do you look like you’re going to eat me when I enter the pool?” His gaze darkens as he grins. “Is it even the sexy kind of eating?” Idiot. “Only one way to find out..." He lets out a hearty chuckle and it’s almost infectious. I would laugh if my skin didn’t tingle with anticipation, if my hands didn’t want to curl around his neck and squeeze the life out of him. He finds this amusing. [[It’ll be his downfall.|murder_belt]]

I never would’ve thought that I’d rush him to join the pool with me. However, I’m tired of his teasing, tired of his games, and I just want to wash. \<<if $sex is "female">> My bindings are itching like crazy, begging to be taken off already. <</if>>\ I just want to bathe and he’s making a big deal out of it. “What eagerness. Wouldn’t want to keep you waiting.” He gives me a mocking smile. [[He whips his belt off in a single, confident motion.]]

\<<if $sex is "female">> My bindings itch like crazy, begging to be taken off already. So, I do. I start taking them off. Even if I have to do it in front of him. <<else>> I give him a bored look, merely a glance, before I start scrubbing my dirty skin. <</if>>\ “Wait!” he yelps. I give him an annoyed look. “What?” “I’m coming in to help you.” [[He whips his belt off in a single, confident motion.]]

I give him a sweet smile. The smile itself is sarcastic, as if I would ever give him a genuine one. As if he deserved to see that. He pauses as he studies the smile on my face. “You look like you don’t mean it.” He makes an exaggerated pout. “It makes me awfully sad.” “Of course I mean it. I //love// that you’re here with me. I //can’t wait// for you to bless the waters with your body.” He chuckles. “I choose to believe that you’re speaking the truth.” “Naturally you would.” Another chuckle from his part, another faked smile from my part. My heart beats a little faster, as if the words I just said held some truth to them. No, of course they don’t. However, before I can dwell on it for longer… [[He whips his belt off in a single, confident motion.]]

My dagger. It’s too far away. Could I kill him with my bare hands? \<<if $build is "lithe">> I glance at his arms. No. I wouldn’t stand a chance. I need my weapon. \<<elseif $build is "average">> I glance at his arms. There’s a chance that I could. However, I’d be a fool to underestimate his skills. The man’s a professional killer. \<<elseif $build is "heavy">> If it came to mere physique, I could take him. However, I’d be a fool to underestimate his skills. The man’s a professional killer. <</if>>\ Before I can explore the thought further, however… [[He whips his belt off in a single, confident motion.]]

Of course he’d make it a big deal. He simply just can’t come into the pool and not make it a show. With a wily grin on his lips, he slips off his tunic. The smile turns into a self-assured grin, all too relaxed, all too smug. It’s a full blown strip show. [[Try not to look (but still look).|c6_m_stilllook]] [[Look into his eyes. He wants me to look away and I'm not obliging.|c6_m_challenge]] [[Look away with my cheeks heated.|c6_m_heatedcheeks]] [[Look away in annoyance.|c6_m_annoyance]] [[Ignore his nudity and inspect his scars.|c6_m_inspect]]

It’s a decent-sized cock. But he doesn’t need to know that. “Oh, how you try to wound me. Thankfully, I've been blessed with a healthy amount of confidence to withstand your ruthless assaults." At least he knows that his ego is massive. Finally… [[He slips into the pool.]]

I’ve seen the said cock before, sure. This time, however, it’s growing. “You’re making me blush, the way you inspect it so intensely.” "Good." “Ha! The insolence. Love that.” Hearing him say that he loves something about me, even if it’s my words… It sends a shiver of disgust through my spine. And I look away, confused and annoyed. Finally… [[He slips into the pool.]]

\<<if $earth is true>> Despite the initial surprise he managed to stir within me, I manage to remain silent and unstunned. He squints his eyes. He wants to ask if I’m not interested or if I’m just acting but that would mean admitting that he doesn’t know how to read me. Good. \<<elseif $fire is true>> I can’t keep my cool, my gaze darts away. Dammit, now he thinks he won. Marcus grins. “It’s alright. Don’t beat yourself up. It is an impressive piece of meat.” I groan. “Who says that about their own dick? It’s not even that impressive.” “//That// impressive?” He grins. “So it’s a little impressive?” Another tired groan leaves me. \<<elseif $air is true>> I look away, as if I saw something more interesting from the corner of my eye. The oils Niall has placed beside the pool, that’s more interesting than his nudity. Marcus gives me a playful little pout. His demeanor implies that he doesn’t know if I’m ignoring him on purpose or because I truly don’t care. Good. \<<elseif $water is true>> I close my eyes and try to calm my mind. It’s just an erection, nothing more, nothing less. “Don’t be shy, you can look if you want to.” A tired sigh leaves me and he chuckles at the sound of it. <</if>>\ Finally... [[He slips into the pool.]]

The water is disturbed and he’s in the pool. And he looks all too pleased with himself. Here we are. I share a pool with the murderer of my father. \<<if $marcus_killer>> Good. I'm exactly where I need to be. However, first things first: I need to wash myself. Should he bleed himself all over the bath water, I wouldn’t be able to bathe. \<<else>> This would be weird had I the will and the energy to ponder on it more. Now, I want to wash myself. <</if>>\ \<<if $sex is "female">> The bindings are still on me. Dirty, itchy, causing me pain. He looks at them. “Don’t you want to take those off?” Words cannot even express how much I want that. His arrival and the unwanted striptease took my mind off the pain but now the irritated skin beneath the cloth lets out a pathetic howl of agony. He gives me an expectant look. Evidently he thinks that he’s going to watch. [[This is too uncomfortable. I don’t want him to watch my chest.|fem nolooking]] [[I take the bindings off with spite.|c6_m_spitefulbinding]] [[I take the bindings off in a teasing manner.]] \<<elseif $sex is "male">> My naked skin is on full display for him to gawk at it. And he does look. All too eagerly his gaze explores my naked shoulders, wandering lower to my tattoo. [["Are you going to wash yourself?" he asks.]] <</if>>

I grit my teeth. Don’t. Utter. A. Word. It will only make things worse. It will make him insufferable. “You look like you’re about to explode.” Not a word. “I’m coming, please be patient.” Finally… [[He slips into the pool.]]

I bare my teeth and let out a guttural snarl. It’s filled with annoyance, anger, it’s the sound of a cornered animal. “How animalistic of you. I shouldn’t expect anything less.” “Just get into the pool.” “Don’t get me wrong, it’s a nice sound. Makes me think of–” I give him a dead stare. “Ugh, fine. You’re so serious.” Finally… [[He slips into the pool.]]

I groan and look away. Why isn’t this even the first time I’ve seen his naked torso? No, why isn’t this the first time I’ve seen everything about him? Why does he keep on showing himself to me as if I cared? “Too shy to look?” I stifle the sigh and look as annoyed as I feel. “I expected a more enthusiastic reaction…” Then, he’s even more of a fool than I gave him credit for. Quickly enough... [[He slips into the pool.]]

Now that there are no other people around, it seems more intimate than the last time I saw him naked. Now, I can examine his naked body. See every scar his skin wears. And there are so many. He’s seen his share of battle. So much so that it’s almost a miracle he’s still alive. His arms are striped with scars and there’s a long one on his stomach. I wonder who did that one. They almost got him. “How did you get taht?” I ask, interrupting his one-man strip show. “Huh?” He looks at the scar and pouts. “That’s not important right now.” “I want to know.” With a deep sigh he crosses his arms. “Just another man after my life.” “Who?” “A dead man.” “Hm.” He doesn’t want to tell. Instead, he proceeds to take off his pants. “Don’t worry about it so much. I’m alive, that’s what matters, right?” He gives me a lopsided grin, fully knowing that I wouldn’t mind if the person took him with them to the Underworld. \<<if $marcus_killer is true>> Yes. We both know I wouldn't mind to see him dead. "Right? Good for you that he didn't succeed." Right. Quickly enough... [[He slips into the pool.]] \<<else>> Or would I? [[Why am I not sure?]] <</if>>

No! Don’t look away! You’re doing what he wants you to– But it’s too late. \<<if (($earth is true) or ($air is true))>> I’m usually better than this, better than looking away like a shy maiden. What’s wrong with me? <</if>>\ My cheeks heat up. And I want to smack myself for it. “My, my… Is my little barbarian feeling a little shy?” [[Steel my nerves and remain silent.]] [[A snarl escapes me.]]

The name of this stupid game is that if he wants something, I’m going to do the exact opposite. So, I keep my chin up and continue to look at him. Instead of his naked frame, my gaze is glued to his eyes as a challenge. He squints, looking almost pleased. He smiles. From the corner of my eye I can see that his body is filled with scars. And there are so many. He’s seen his share of battle. So much so that it’s a miracle he’s still alive. His arms are striped with scars and there’s a long one on his stomach. I wonder who did that one. They almost got him. Before I can even think of asking, Marcus continues to take his trousers off. Slowly. All the while holding eye contact with me. Slowly, gradually, he slides his pants lower, revealing his hip bones. Lower still. His pubic hair comes into view. Then, his semi hard member pops out from its restraints. [[“I wasn’t impressed earlier. Still not impressed.”]] [[I wasn’t expecting it to be hard!]] [[Look at his growing erection with some interest.]]

I try my best to look away. However, the mosaics on the walls don’t seem to hold my interest for too long. My gaze sneaks back to Marcus. He grins at me, as if he knew I was going to look. And it infuriates me to no end. I try to look away, to prove him wrong, but I can’t do it. My eyes are glued to his naked frame. Now that there are no other people around, it seems more intimate than the last time I saw him naked. Now, I can examine his naked body. See every scar he wears. And there are so many. He’s seen his share of battle. So much so that it’s a miracle he’s still alive. His arms are striped with scars and there’s a long one on his stomach. I wonder who did that one. They almost got him. Before I can even think of asking, Marcus continues to take his trousers off. Slowly. All the while holding an eye contact with me. Slowly, gradually, he slides his pants lower, revealing his hip bones. Lower still. His pubic hair comes into view. My heart pounds in my ears but I keep looking. I can’t seem to tear my eyes away from the show. I swallow, but my throat is dry. Then, his semi hard member pops out from its restraints. [[Look away in silent horror.]] [[Look away. “Why is it almost hard?!”]] [[Keep looking.]]

Why doesn't the thought of him dead and buried fill my heart with joy? Concerning. Not something I should dwell on. Quickly enough... [[He slips into the pool.]]

Why is it almost hard? I ask myself and look away. I don’t ask him, I simply can’t. I can almost hear the way he smiles in self-content. “Don’t want to look anymore? Didn’t take you for a shy maiden.” “I swear to the Twins…” “Your Twins are welcome to take a look, too.” Of course he’d top it all with blasphemy! [[He slips into the pool.]]

My horrified shout rings through the pool room. His trousers fall to the ground and after that, silent snickering follows. “You were looking at me so intently, how could I not get a little excited?” I try to say something, anything at all, but nothing comes out. There’s only the feeling of wanting to get swallowed by earth. “Now now. It’s just a cock.” I manage to let out a small sigh. “Yeah, and not even that impressive of a cock.” He chuckles, clearly unfazed by my insults. “Perhaps you just didn’t see clearly. Would you like to take a closer look?” I grit my teeth. [[He slips into the pool.]]

I don’t have words, at least none that I’d care to share. So, I just stare in silence. Besides, I know it'll make him uncomfortable. “You’re making me a bit self-conscious with that stare.” “Good.” [[He slips into the pool.]]

\<<if $gender isnot "ciswoman">> [[I don't want to show my chest to anyone.][$dysphoria_breasts to true]] [[I just don’t like to show my skin. Least of all to that murderer.]] \<<else>> [[I just don’t like to show my skin. Least of all to that murderer.]] <</if>>

He wants to play this game? I’ll show him how it’s done. I start peeling off the bindings while fighting against a grimace that’s about to invade my face. It hurts. This is not sexy at all. He gives me a long look, and not the kind I was hoping for. No. It almost looks as if he’s sympathetic to my pain. Not what I expected. I try to continue but, in truth, I just want these wrappings off of me already. With a little grimace on his face, he says: “I never thought I’d say this but could you hurry up? You look painful.” “I… yes.” I look away and take the cloth off. “You can strip for me later, alright?” I try not to roll my eyes at the mockery. “Now, your boobs are out in the open,” he says as he looks at them. [[“How did you even fit that humongous pair of boobs in the wrappings?”][$big_boobs to true]] [[“Do you even need bindings? Your boobs are so small.”][$small_boobs to true]] [[He tilts his head at my chest.][$average_boobs to true]]

Well, yes. I should. And I will. “Do you want help?” he asks with a grin dancing on his thin lips. "Help? From you?" “Why not?” [["No."|c6_m_nopeno]] [["I'd rather die."|c6_m_wouldratherdie]] [["...Sure."|c6_m_sure?]]

If he thinks he can ruin my bath, he can think again. I start ripping the wraps off with my teeth bared. It hurts, I haven’t had the chance to change them in a good while. Usually, I try to keep them as clean as I can but there have been more sentries lurking along the riverbed. “You don’t have to do it so violently–” “Shut it.” He raises his hands and I ignore him. Finally, my skin is free. I take a deep breath and smile, the feeling of freedom without the bindings obstructing my breathing is exhilarating. The skin itches and aches but I’m so glad to be rid of the dirty wrappings. “Oh, shit. Your skin is irritated.” Marcus grimaces at the sight. “And…,” he continues, all the while looking at my chest. [[“How did you even fit that humongous pair of boobs in the wrappings?”][$big_boobs to true]] [[“Do you even need bindings? Your boobs are so small.”][$small_boobs to true]] [[He tilts his head at my chest.][$average_boobs to true]]

“Excuse me?” “Those are huge. That must be excruciatingly painful.” “Well, yes. It is painful.” I have half a mind to shield my ‘humongous pair of boobs’ from his gaze but he doesn’t seem to look at them in a sexual manner. Which is peculiar in itself. He gives me an uncharacteristically compassionate-looking nod. He’s in a weird mood today. Neverminding that, now that the bindings are off, I really want to just wash myself. But, Marcus is still looking. “Do you want help?” he asks with a grin dancing on his thin lips. "Help? From you?” “Why not?” [["No."|c6_m_nopeno]] [["I'd rather die."|c6_m_wouldratherdie]] [["...Sure."|c6_m_sure?]]

“Excuse me?” “Really cute, too. Like two little buns. Teeny tiny buns.” “Excuse me!” “What? They are.” He laughs at his own words, and most probably at my face, too, as per usual. [[“Well, your dick is small.”]] [[Ignore his idiocy.]]

“What?” I ask, knowing that I probably shouldn’t ask. “Nothing. They’re really… average.” I give him a dead stare. Did he just emphasize how unimpressed he is by my boobs? “Don’t take it wrong. They’re nice.” "Perhaps it's for the better if you'll shut up." "Perhaps." He grins and nods. “Are you going to wash yourself” Well, yes. I should. But, he’s still watching. “Do you want help?” he asks with a grin dancing on his thin lips. "Help? From you?” “Why not?” [["No."|c6_m_nopeno]] [["I'd rather die."|c6_m_wouldratherdie]] [["...Sure."|c6_m_sure?]]

He just laughs. “Try harder.” “Small and shriveled. Like a shrimp.” “Are you going to wash yourself or run your mouth?” Well, yes. I should. But, he’s still watching. “Do you want help?” he asks with a grin dancing on his thin lips. "Help? From you?” “Why not?” [["No."|c6_m_nopeno]] [["I'd rather die."|c6_m_wouldratherdie]] [["...Sure."|c6_m_sure?]]

I ignore him. He gives me a little pout, most likely because he's hungry for attention. “Well… Are you going to wash yourself?” Well, yes. I should. But, he’s still watching. “Do you want help?” he asks with a grin dancing on his thin lips. "Help? From you?” “Why not?” [["No."|c6_m_nopeno]] [["I'd rather die."|c6_m_wouldratherdie]] [["...Sure."|c6_m_sure?]]

He chuckles, like he was fully expecting me to say so. I start washing myself, and to his credit, he does give me some privacy. He closes his eyes and seemingly enjoys his bath in peace. \<<if $sex is "female">> I grimace at my irritated skin. I need to ask for some lotion from Niall. <</if>>\ Finally, Marcus seems to grow bored of the silence. He opens his eyes to look at me. [[His gaze lingers on my tattoo.|c6_m_tattoo]]

“Really?” he asks, and I almost say no. But… I guess a part of me wants to see what would happen. Why? I don’t know. “Yes. You may wash me,” I say, as if I’m granting him a boon of some sort. He lets out a little laugh, and I could almost swear it has a layer of nervousness in it. But, it couldn’t have. Why would he be nervous about touching me? What a ridiculous thought. I’m not nervous about the thought, either. He shifts a little closer to me, his usually confident gaze filled with hesitation. I take a deep breath and close my eyes. Why did I agree to this? [[Continue|marcus wash]]

“Don’t be so dramatic,” says with a chuckle. There’s not a trace of surprise in his features, he expected this. I give him another deadly stare just for good measure before I start washing myself, and to his credit, he does give me some privacy. He closes his eyes and seemingly enjoys his bath in peace. \<<if $sex is "female">> I grimace at my irritated skin. I need to ask for some lotion from Niall. <</if>>\ Finally, Marcus seems to grow bored of the silence. He opens his eyes to look at me. [[His gaze lingers on my tattoo.|c6_m_tattoo]]

I’ve hidden my naked skin for so many months, it feels like second nature to shield myself from his gaze. Of course, he already knows. But his gaze is still intrusive and penetrating and I hate to give him this power over me. I just really need to wash. So, with a grimace, I start ripping the wraps off. It hurts, I haven’t had the chance to change them in a good while. I try to keep them as clean as I can but there have been more sentries lurking along the riverbed recently. Finally, my skin is free. I take a deep breath and smile, the feeling of freedom without the bindings obstructing my breathing is exhilarating. The skin itches and aches but I’m so glad to be rid of the dirty wrappings. Quickly enough, I sink deeper into the water. And when I turn to look at him, expecting the worst, I find that his back is turned. He gave me privacy. I blink at his naked back, confused by the act of niceness. [[“Why didn’t you look?”]]

I’m not comfortable with it, I’ve never been. He gives me a long look, and the sharpness of his gaze seem to soften a little. He looks like he wants to ask but decides against it. Finally, he turns his back on me. I blink at his naked back, confused by the act of niceness. I almost want to ask but decide against it. So, with a grimace, I start ripping the wrappings off. It hurts, I haven’t had the chance to change them in a good while. I try to keep them as clean as I can but there have been more sentries lurking along the riverbed recently. Finally, my skin is free. I take a deep breath and smile, the feeling of freedom without the bindings obstructing my breathing is exhilarating. The skin itches and aches but I’m so glad to be rid of the dirty wrappings. Quickly enough and just to be sure, I sink deeper into the water. "All done?" he asks. “Yes,” I say with some uncertainty still lingering in my tone. His niceness is weirding me out. "All done?" he asks. “Yes,” I say with some uncertainty still lingering in my tone. His niceness is weirding me out. He turns back to me with a weirdly neutral face. There’s no leery grin, no mockery. Just him. “Can I look at your tattoo?” he asks. “Why?” “I’ve never seen it up close.” I squint my eyes at him, weirded out by his consideration. In any other scenario, he would’ve already given himself the permission to look despite my opinion. “Fine,” I say. I can still shield my chest while showing it to him. [[He looks at my tattoo.|c6_m_tattoo]]

No no, don’t ask him that, he’s just going to– “Oh? You want me to?” He starts to turn. "No, I'm fine." I start washing myself, and to his credit, he does give me privacy. \<<if $sex is "female">> I grimace at my irritated skin. I need to ask for some lotion from Niall. <</if>>\ "Can I look already?" he asks. Before I can say no, he turns to look. I sink lower to the water and squint at him. His kindness has its limits. [[He looks at my tattoo.|c6_m_tattoo]]

“Your scar tattoo…,” Marcus says and looks at my bare chest. “Was it made with a knife?” “It was.” A small grimace flashes through his face and I might be fooled to believe it's a sign of sympathy. “How old were you?” “Ten.” Truthful answers leave me before I can think on it further. No one’s asked about it in a long time. “Who did it?” “...My mother.” “Your own mother? Why?” \<<if $chosen_one is true>> “Because my gods demand the blood of their druids. Especially mine, for I am their chosen one.” My words are proud and I smile at the thought. However, from the corner of my eye I can see that Marcus is raising his brow at me. Both of them, in fact. Of course he wouldn’t understand. “You’re their chosen one?” Annoyance flashes through me. \<<elseif $believer is true>> “Because my gods demand the blood of their druids. I’ve been a true believer ever since my birth.” “You… have?” Annoyance flashes through me. He wouldn’t understand. \<<elseif $doubter is true>> Why, indeed. Because the Twins demand it and we’re both their faithful servants. “It was her duty. And it’s my duty to bear it.” He gives me a long, weirdly understanding look. As if he’d know anything. <</if>>\ “Why are you asking all these questions?” "I want to know about your past trauma, of course." “Why do you think it was traumatic?” “Everything you just told me sounds quite traumatic. And dramatic.” “You’re wrong.” Is he? [[Yes. Fuck him.|c6_m_marcusiswrong]] [[I'm not traumatized.|c6_m_marcusiswrong]] [[He's being an idiot.|c6_m_marcusiswrong]] [[Also, he's wrong.|c6_m_marcusiswrong]] [[There's nothing wrong with me.|c6_m_marcusiswrong]] [[I'm perfectly fine.|c6_m_marcusiswrong]]

There’s an annoying look on his face. It’s as if he knew everything about me and more. But I bet he doesn’t even know himself. “Why don’t you tell me about your relationship with your father?” I ask, trying to hit him where it hurts. The relationship between them is strained and broken but Marcus acts like he doesn't care. He dismisses my words. “That’s hardly traumatic for me. He’s just an idiot.” “But what caused the rift between you?” He shifts uncomfortably. Just barely, not many would've noticed but my gaze is honed to him and his reactions, looking for vulnerabilities. [[Probe it!|c6_m_probe][$marcus_weakness to true]] [[Retreat. Let him be.|c6_m_retreat]]

I recall what Quinn told me. The blood, the screaming. It definitely sounds like a traumatic event. Marcus merely shakes his head. “Don’t you start.” “You started it. Something happened between you. All that blood–” He bares his teeth. “Don't.” I squint my eyes, delighted by his reaction. Finally, something I can work with. “Let’s talk about something else.” He yields. He looks like he will leave if I continue. Fine, I will let the issue be. For now. However, this is something I will make a note of for later. [[Continue|masturbation]]

Even if he’d deserve it, I will leave it be, for now. There’s something about his nervous gaze that tells me this is something he’s not ready to share with me yet. \<<if $marcus_killer is true>> This is a good find. It’s crucial to know of his weak spots in order to make him suffer. \<<else>> Seeing him like that almost makes me feel… pity. <</if>>\ “Thank you,” he mutters, looking smaller than he usually does. [[Continue|masturbation]]

Silence hangs between us. It enhances the strangeness of the situation that I’ve found myself in. With him. In a pool. Alone. \<<if $marcus_killer is true>> I should just kill him already. \<<else>> Why did I agree to this? <</if>>\ I take a peek at him. Immediately, he catches my eye and gives me a grin that he must believe is somehow charming to look at. Well, he’s wrong. He looks like a fool. "So, you don't mind bathing with me, huh?" I sigh. "I knew it. You want to soak in the same water I've blessed with my bodily fluids." "Your… what?" "Sure, it’s Niall’s bath. But I like to come here from time to time. Here I am, all alone, thinking about you. What do you think I do?" He lowers his voice to almost a murmur. \<<if $clueless is true>> [["I don't know?"]] \<<else>> I look at the water in horror. Is he talking about masturb— [["You masturbate in the pool?"]] <</if>>\

I’ve imagined his touch to be rough, almost violent, because how else would a murderer’s hands feel? I brace myself for it, not sure how to react. But no such touch lands on my skin. In fact, there’s nothing but the faintest caress of his breath. He hesitates. [[“Don’t tell me the mighty Lord Centurion is afraid of washing a lowly barbarian?”|c6_m_teasebarbarian]] [[Hold my breath and wait for him to touch me.|c6_m_holdmybreath]] [[“Perhaps it’s better that I’ll wash myself.”|c6_m_shouldwashmyself]]

He scoffs. But the scoff doesn’t hold as much strength and resolution as it usually does. Something is off. Is he actually scared of touching me?“ “You should wash yourself,” he says, his voice a little strained. [[I shift away from him.|c6_m_moveaway]]

My body is tense, anticipating. I breathe in sharply as I feel the heat radiating from his palms. But, instead of touching me, they hover over my skin. “Marcus?” I ask. The sound of my voice seems to make him yank his hands away. “You should wash yourself,” he says, his voice a little strained. [[I shift away from him.|c6_m_moveaway]]

A relieved sigh leaves him and I have a half a mind to sigh, too. [[I shift away from him.|c6_m_moveaway]]

I reclaim my personal space and throw him a careful glance. He ignores it. Instead, he leans against the wall and closes his eyes. The air is heavy. \<<if $marcus_killer is true>> He seems unable to touch me, which is intriguing. Is it guilt? Could it be? Could a man like him actually feel guilt or is he trying to fool me? \<<else>> There’s a part of me that wanted to feel his touch on my skin, that part who foolishly even asked him to do so in the first place. And the thought is deeply unsettling. <</if>>\ But, I can’t help but wonder why he didn’t make use of the opportunity to tease me. That is how he usually operates, why not this time? Instead, his eyes are closed as he seemingly enjoys his bath. “Don’t think,” he says without opening his eyes. \<<if (($dummy is true) and ($marcus_killer isnot true))>> That, I can manage. I really don’t want to ponder on why I wanted to feel his hands on me, why there’s a pit of disappointment in my stomach. \<<elseif (($dummy isnot true) and ($marcus_killer isnot true))>> Easy for him to say with that empty head of his. However, maybe his advice holds some merit this time around. I really shouldn’t ponder on why I wanted to feel his hands on me, why there’s a pit of disappointment in my stomach. <</if>>\ He nods to himself in a way which implies that he thinks his words are filled with wisdom and they are worthy of pride. I try not to roll my eyes at him, which makes him chuckle to himself. Then, his gaze wanders to my tattoo. [[Continue|c6_m_tattoo]]

The words leave me before I can even think if it’s wise to admit that I’m left in the dark about his banter. I always hate to give him any sort of win. His features soften, just a fracture, enough for it to send a surge of annoyance through my body. Is he pitying me for not getting his stupid jokes? He gives me another grin before proceeding to talk to me slowly, like I’m missing half a brain. “I’m talking about masturbation, my sweet.” “Wha–” [["You masturbate in the pool?"]]

And, just as the question leaves me, he bursts out laughing. "You should see the look on your face!" "You were joking, right?" "That's for me to know and for you to find out." [["We are not talking about this."|c6_m_notalking]] [["Find out how?"|c6_m_findouthow]] [[Drink the water and compliment the taste.|c6_m_drinkthewater]] [["Oh, please. I'm not fazed by mere masturbation jokes."|c6_m_notfazed]] [[Ignore him.|c6_m_ignore]]

"Alright, your call." Still, he grins, refusing to leave the topic just yet. "Just not into talking about semen floaters?" "I… No. Why would they– No. Shut your mouth. I choose not to take part in this conversation. And you should honor it." “But–” \<<if $fire is true>> “Shut your mouth or I will shut it for you.” "Ooh!" He chuckles in clear excitement. "I'm tempted to see how you'd shut my face but I won't test my luck." \<<elseif $earth is true>> I give him a stern look. Do not continue this discussion. “Don’t give me that look.” He smiles to himself and, thankfully, falls silent. \<<else>> I squint at him. "Honor it," I repeat. "Oh, fine. I'm an honorable man, if nothing else." <</if>>\ I throw the water a glance of suspicion: I wonder when it’s been changed. No. Better not to think about it. [[Look at the decoration to get my mind off things.|Look at the fish mosaics.]]

Marcus nods as if he was itching for me to ask. "By seeing a semen floater passing by, of course" "…No. Why— No." He laughs. The laughter seems to stem from deep within him. The pool room amplifies the sound. I quickly shake my head to clear it out of any and all mental images of any and all semen floaters. Besides, there's something wrong with the mental image. "Semen wouldn't float. It would sink." However, my retort did nothing to end the discussion. Instead, he just looks happier. "I'm glad to talk with an expert on the matter," he says. "No. I'm not—” "It depends on the temperature of the water. If you're in a hot bath, the semen gets all… you know. Are you familiar with poached eggs?” I blink. And regret. [[Look at the decoration to get my mind off things.|Look at the fish mosaics.]]

In a spout of stupidity, I take a good handful of the pool water and slurp it all down. Maybe it was a plan to throw him off guard, maybe I just felt thirsty all of a sudden. I look at Marcus with a big, mocking smile on my face. “Tastes so good,” I add for good measure. His smile, however, is frozen solid. He looks at my hand, then shifts his gaze back to my smile. A grimace invades his features. A deep, disgusted grimace. “Pray to your gods above that Niall had the water changed before you arrived.” I give him a nod, fully standing by my decision. It was all worth it for the look on his face. He gives me one last side-eye before falling silent. [[Look at the fish mosaics.]]

If he thinks I’ll start blushing at his stupidity, he’s got another thing coming. “But that’s the thing! It’s not a joke.” “Whatever it is, it’s not working.” He sighs. “I will have to come up with something else.” “By all means,” I say and ignore him. [[Look at the decoration in the pool.|Look at the fish mosaics.]]

I lightly shake my head and choose to ignore him. It’s for the better. And he, of course, gives me a little pout of disappointment. “Don’t you want to know more?” “No.” He gives me another pout. [[Look at the decoration to get my mind off things.|Look at the fish mosaics.]]

“It was Niall who chose the decoration, right?” “I know, right? The absolute degenerate.” \<<if $clueless is true>> “What do you mean?” There’s something amiss here. Paios, too, teased me about this. I squint at the art, eager to see what I missed. But no matter how much I squint, they’re just fish. “What do I mean?” He repeats my words as if making sure I’m being serious. “Can someone just tell me what you’re all implying? This is getting tiresome.” There’s a sprout of a smile on his face that he’s evidently doing his best to smother. A clear sign that he’s bullying me. Again. “I just haven’t seen that kind of fish before,” I defend myself. “No wonder. They’re the Roman kind.” I knew it, I knew they were. However, why would they tease me about– “They’re called a big dick fish.” I give him a half of a nod before realization hits me. A big dick–? I steel my gaze at the mosaics. Round fins. Elongate body. Those are penises. I let out a long groan and Marcus’s laughter echoes through the pool room. “Yes. Really funny.” Marcus evidently thinks it is. He continues to laugh. \<<elseif (($loud_pervert is true) or ($shy_pervert is true))>> “Niall specifically chose to decorate his baths with dicks?” That doesn’t sound like him. Niall isn’t the type. However, there’s someone else who’d fit the profile… Marcus shakes his head disappointedly. “He is a closeted pervert. The shy ones usually are, don’t you think?” The mocking sigh, he’s acting his dark heart out. Niall didn’t do this. “It was you, wasn’t it?” “Me?” He gives me a seemingly innocent grin that tells me all I need to know. “You chose the dicks.” “Aren’t you the detective? Fine. It was me.” “So, on top of masturbating in his pool, you also ruined his decoration?” “Now that you put it like that…” “Why does he put up with you?” “I’m his favorite brother.” "Aren’t you the only brother he has?” “He has one in Hibernia.” That’s still not too impressive of an achievement. \<<else>> “I sense that you’re going to make this awkward. Don’t,” I warn him. “But don’t you want to talk about Niall’s questionable choice in his pool room’s decor?” “No.” He lets out a disappointed sigh. “Oh, fine.” <</if>> [[Continue|c6_m_silentjudging]]

The lightness of the conversation feels almost out of place. Neverminding the fact that I’m sharing a pool with him out of all people, but just the other day we killed the Opio. There should be a lot to unpack but instead he’s joking about the water and the decoration. It seems that he was his friend. Perhaps I shouldn’t expect anything else from him. He doesn’t seem the type to share his feelings. \<<if $cernunnos_promise_optio is true>> [[“Did you know that I asked Cernunnos to chase Optio as a rabbit?”]] <</if>> [["How do you feel? After what happened to the Optio."]]

He raises his eyebrows at me. High. “I didn’t know you were this insane,” he says, his tone of voice still light but his gaze betrays concern. “I’m not insane. I truly met Cernunnos.” \<<if $optio_regret is true>> And I asked them to take care of the Optio’s soul because I felt bad about what happened to him. Because I shouldn’t have left him unburied and without blessings. But I’m not sure if I want to share that with Marcus. \<<elseif $distressed_optio_murderer is true>> I needed to do it, I didn’t want to kill him but it happened and… I just needed to do something about it. But I’m not sure if I want to share that with Marcus. \<<else>> Perhaps it was my professional pride that made me take the deal with Cernunnos despite not feeling that bad about what happened to Optio. You can’t leave bodies unburied and without blessings, it’s just bad practice. But I’m not sure if I want to share that with Marcus. <</if>>\ I realize that ‘I’m not insane’ might not be the most convincing thing I’ve uttered lately. But it's the truth and the accusation is false, so what else can I say. Now, however, he's expecting me to say something. [["I didn't want Optio to suffer..."|c6_m_optiosuffer]] [["I hope he's stuck in the limbo for ages."]] [[Remain silent. Perhaps I shouldn't have said anything.|c6_m_silentmistake]]

He throws me a glance as if to decipher the meaning behind my question. “I’m fine.” “Wasn’t he your friend?” “Friend is a strong word.” Silence falls between us once more. He’s clearly not interested in sharing his emotions with me. [[“Who was he to you?”|c6_m_whowashe?]] [[“He visits my nightmares. I can see his rotting face when I close my eyes.”]] [[“I feel bad about what happened.” I don’t.|c6_m_feelbad]]

“Why would it matter anymore? He’s dead.” “It might help you to–” “Why do you want to help me?” He gives me an uncharacteristically serious glare. \<<if $marcus_killer is true>> Because I need you to feel comfortable around me so I can stab you in the back when you’re not looking, silly. Instead, I say: “Because I want to.” He frowns at me, clearly unsure if he believes me. \<<else>> I suppose that’s a good question. However, it’s a question I refuse to answer to. <</if>>\ [[Continue|nothing else to say]]

I’m not sure if I’m talking to Marcus or to myself. But I can still see his face when I close my eyes. Without proper burial, he’s doomed to walk among the living. He might come for me someday. He might– “He deserved it for what he did,” Marcus interrupts my thoughts. “But…” “He’d agree. He was a man of some sense.” Maybe, I think, not convinced. He continues: “You take this thing seriously, don’t you?” he asks without a trace of mockery in his words. It’s a curious thing, to hear him talk sincerely. "The dead, the rituals... That stuff." “Of course I do. It's my job." "Right. It is." "You should take it seriously, too.” “Hm.” He smirks. Romans should have a fear of the gods and supernatural occurences in them. Marcus doesn't seem to share the sentiment. I continue: "You saw my father. How can you doubt that Optio could suffer the same fate?" I ask, even if the topic of my father is something I'd rather not talk about right now. Not with him. Never with him. He flinches at the mention of my father. "I'll worry about it when it comes to it." “When Optio comes knocking on your door as a corpse?” “Precisely.” [[Continue|nothing else to say]]

“You felt bad about him dying? Oh, please.” He scoffs. [[“I did. Because of you.”]] [["You caught me. I don't feel bad at all."]]

Finally, the conversation topics have run dry. There’s nothing else to say. \<<if $marcus_killer is true>> [[Now, I should kill him.]] <<else>> [[Now, there’s only silence.]] <</if>>\

\<<if (($distressed_optio_murderer is true) or ($optio_regret is true))>> It’s the truth. Sincerity and the agony of empathy seeps into my words, making them seem smaller and more vulnerable. \<<else>> Maybe my heart isn’t as pure as I make it sound to be but it might fool Marcus. He must be genuinely distressed over what happened, even if he doesn’t show it. It makes him more receptive to my seemingly empathetic words. <</if>>\ Hesitation flashes through his gaze. “You just… met them? How?” “I’m a druid, that’s what we do.” “That’s not… is it?” For once, he seems genuinely taken off guard. “And you asked them to take care of Zoilus?” I nod. “That’s…” He searches for words, still trying to make sense of my words and revelations. “That’s kind of you.” \<<if (($distressed_optio_murderer is true) or ($optio_regret is true))>> “I suppose.” I could’ve also done it because I wanted to alleviate my own regret but maybe I am kind. \<<else>> I give him another nod. Let him think I did it out of the kindness of my heart. <</if>>\ "Thank you," he says before falling silent. Maybe I can’t blame him for it. This is a big revelation. [[Continue|nothing else to say]]

“Insane //and// cruel, what else did I expect?” He sighs wearily. I merely smile at the accusation and continue reveling in the thought of the Optio being forever stuck in a limbo: “Who knows, maybe Cernunnos will chase him for thousands of years. Ages and ages, to feel like someone is chasing you, wanting to murder you, and you keep running and running but you can never–” “Hati, stop it.” His voice is stern, more serious than what I’ve grown accustomed to. I struck a nerve. “Did I make you feel bad? I’m so sorry.” My words are coated with sarcasm. “Shut up.” I almost giggle at his state of unease. [[Continue|nothing else to say]]

I shouldn’t have said anything. The way he looks at me tells me that he thinks I’ve lost it. Well, I haven’t. Of course he wouldn’t understand. It’s no wonder Romans aren’t used to people directly talking with the gods. They just read the signs from the sky, thinking it’s their gods’ convoluted way of talking to them. I get a direct line to the gods. Not just one, but three. (When I finally reach the Twins, that is.) I’m quite special, he wouldn’t understand. “You’re weird, you know that?” he asks. And I refuse to give him an answer. [[Continue|nothing else to say]]

Only the crackling of the living fire nearby can be heard. [[I look at him, wondering why he’s here.]] [[I look at the water, wondering why I’m here with him.]] [[I close my eyes and try to ignore him.]]

It’s time. I quickly skim over my battle plan but find that I have none. I could possibly run after my dagger, even more so if Marcus is otherwise occupied. I need to distract him somehow. But, before I can ponder on that, he says: "What would your father say?" [["What?"]]

He squints his eyes. \<<if $earth is true>> And he sees nothing but my serious gaze, telling him that it is so. He believes me. I can see it in his eyes. He thinks I felt bad because Optio was his friend. “Hm. Thank you,” he mutters. \<<elseif $fire is true>> I challenge his gaze with my own. And he believes me. I can see it in his eyes. He thinks I felt bad because Optio was his friend. “Hm. Thank you,” he mutters. \<<elseif $air is true>> I look away as if feeling bashful and coy, as if I just wanted what's best for him but I'm not sure why. And from the corner of my eye I see that he believes me. He thinks I felt bad because Optio was his friend. “Hm. Thank you,” he mutters. \<<elseif $water is true>> Even if my words might fail me, I give him a smile that tells him that I care for him. I think of everything that gives me reason to smile in this world and the smile comes off genuine. And he believes me. I can see it in his eyes. He thinks I felt bad because Optio was his friend. “Hm. Thank you,” he mutters. <</if>>\ I don’t mean a word I say but it’s great that he seems to be willing to believe me. He’s even more of a fool than I thought he was. [[Continue|nothing else to say]]

He gives me a bored look. “You don’t have to rub it in my face, you know.” I shrug. “I felt like it.” “Of course you did.” He sighs. [[Continue|nothing else to say]]

“What would your father say if he saw you now? Sharing a bath with the man who murdered him?” I stare at him. [[“He would be proud.” Because I’m here to have my vengeance.]] [[I won’t let him trigger me. I need to get to my dagger.]]

“Proud? Why, pray tell?” “Because I will kill you.” “That’s what you keep telling me. Alas, why am I alive still? How proud would he truly be, since you’re taking forever?” The corner of my eye twitches at his insolent words. “You want me to kill you now?” “I want you to put your money where your mouth is.” [[My dagger.]]

Marcus continues to muse like he’s having too much fun with this. “I’m just wondering. Trying to decipher the motive behind inviting me to share a bath with you.” He’s trying to upset me, to force me to make a mistake. [[My dagger.]]

My gaze must’ve glanced at my tunic where my dagger is for he says with a grin on his face: “Now, now. I took the liberty to discard your dagger.” “What?” “It’s funnier for me that way. I want to feel your hands around my neck.” He looks at my hands and it’s my turn to think that he’s lost his mind. \<<if $build is "lithe">> “They’re little, sure. But perhaps your technique is decent. Perhaps you could kill me.” \<<else>> “Perhaps you'd have a chance at killing me.” <</if>>\ Could I just drown him in the pool? “A proper fight till death fits the occasion, don’t you think?” He continues to talk, to inspect me, to try to read my thoughts. “Are you insane?” I ask. “Are you?” The implication hangs between us. The dagger is out of the question, of course he would discard it when I wasn't looking. I have no weapon on me. Drowning him could work but... How would I explain it to Niall? He knows we’re here. Have I truly thought this through? [[I’m not even sure I want to do this. Not now.]] [[This is a perfect opportunity to kill him but I need to stop and think.]]

Why am I not sure? Is the timing wrong? That definitely is wrong, too. But there's something else. Something that makes me hesitate. These thoughts run through my mind all the while as Marcus continues to look at me. Finally, when he speaks, his voice is coated with disappointment. “You can do it, can you?” It grates my ears to hear him say it. “I can. I will.” “Nothing’s changed,” he states. Then, a small grimace creeps on his face, disgusted, disappointed. But is it aimed at himself more than me? “You think I don’t deserve it?” “You do.” I'm sure of it. If anyone deserves to die, it’s him. Suddenly, his burning fingers grab my chin and he forces me to look at him. There’s clear disgust in his face. It’s all over him, it taints everything about him, his fingers slightly tremble as he holds me. His words are somber and repulsed: “If you think that yours is the only father I’ve killed, you’re sorely mistaken. I’ve killed many more, and will continue to do so." It's a promise. "Don’t you think I should be stopped?” [[“Don’t ever touch me again,” I snarl and yank myself free.]] [[Look at him, unsure what to do or say.|c6_m_unsure]]

Niall knows. He seems gullible enough – unless it’s all an act – but I doubt he’d buy any of my excuses if Marcus ended up dead after sharing a bath with me. He can’t be that stupid. Shit. “Are you thinking about Niall?” Marcus asks, guessing correctly. Much to my annoyance. I breathe out to calm myself. I can’t lose myself to the turmoil inside me. He’s so close and I could end his miserable life right now. He grins. “You are. Too bad that he happened to come here. He likes you. He doesn’t want to see you get hurt. Imagine his surprise if he found out that it was me who would’ve gotten killed if it wasn’t for him.” Is this all a game for him? [[Control my anger. He’s not worth it.|c6_m_control]] [[Strangle him.]] [[Grab him by the dick.]]

With the speed of a predator, I grab his limp dick. He barks in surprise. The sound makes me smile. Didn’t see that coming, huh? “I should rip this right off,” I snarl. His eyes are widened but not widened enough. He squeezes my arm but not hard enough. There’s a hint of worry in his eyes but it’s not enough. None of it is enough. There’s no fear. No actual worry over what happens to him. Instead, there’s still the ridicule and sneer, as if he’s eager to see if I really would do it. If I would actually rip it off. Besides, there’s something else lurking beneath it all. Something dark and primal. Then, the cock in my hand twitches and starts growing. [[Yelp and let go.|c6_m_yelp]] [[Squeeze him harder.|c6_m_squeeze]]

I take another breath, a stabilizing one, and mutter a quick prayer to the Twins. Thinking of the Twins, however, seems to only flare up my anger. It takes great effort to control it. I need to control it. \<<if $fire is true>> “Fuck, I hate you,” I mutter as I squeeze my eyes shut. “I hate you so much that I want to see your innards float in the pool water. I want to see your blood color the water crimson. I want to see life leave your eyes. I want to look at your soulless, empty eyes and leave you without a blessing, without a burial, and hide your body so you won’t ever get any of those things, so that the wild animals will feast on your pathetic flesh. I want it so bad but I can’t do it right now.” Saying it out loud helps to control it, I can feel the anger slowly subsiding. When I open my eyes Marcus’s face is fittingly aghast. “Alright,” he manages to say. “Well, you definitely need to have dreams.” “Yes. Some day I will kill you. I hope you know it.” “Now I definitely do, thank you for sharing that.” \<<elseif $air is true>> My eyes are closed, I can’t bear to see his face without getting angrier. With every breath I take, I seem to float further away from my body. The anger is left behind, any and all emotions seem to lose their meaning, there’s nothing but me floating in the air. I seem to look at myself and Marcus from above, thinking what a curious scenario it is. Sharing a pool with the murderer himself. He should be dead but there he is. Life is a peculiar thing, how it leads to places I never thought possible. Curious. Finally, I regain myself, and all the anger is gone. There’s only Marcus looking at me in a quaint way. “You’re not going to try to kill me now?” he asks. “No. Not right now.” “I see. Maybe later?” “Maybe.” He gives me a small, almost sad smile. "Can't wait." \<<elseif $earth is true>> I close my eyes and focus on my breathing. I’ve never had problems with controlling my emotions but this time the turmoil within seem a little more intense. It takes more effort to bury them deep. Deep. Deeper. I don’t know how I let myself get carried away like this. It’s unlike me. I need to kill him when I'm calm, when he doesn't suspect it. I can feel his gaze on me but it doesn’t trigger any anger any more. I’m back to myself. Thank the Twins. “You’re not going to try to kill me now?” he asks. “No. Not right now.” “I see. Maybe later?” “Maybe.” He gives me a small, almost sad smile. "Can't wait." \<<elseif $water is true>> He wants to see me try and fail to kill him. There’s something wrong with him. This is all clearly a game to him. If I give in to my hatred, I’ll just give him what he wants. But is dying what he wants? Does he want to die? When my mind is flooded with his motives rather than mine, I start to regain control of myself. There might be something wrong with me, too, but I don’t need to stoop to his level. Not just yet. “You’re not going to try to kill me now?” he asks. “No. Not right now.” “I see. Maybe later?” “Maybe.” He gives me a small, almost sad smile. "Can't wait." <</if>>\ Marcus stands up, giving me one last grin. “I think it’s time for me to go.” I can’t argue with that. [[Silently start washing myself.]]

Hearing my words, he quickly lets go of me. He looks away, darkness tainting his features, his jaw clenched too tight. “How dare you touch me after everything you’ve done?” I ask, my voice hoarse with rage. “You should never forget what I’ve done,” he says with his tone all too neutral despite the sea of emotion on his face. “Is that it? You’re here to remind me to hate you?” “I should go,” he says as he stands up, all but ignoring my gaze. “Don’t stay too long, Niall will get worried. The wagon will take you back home.” With these words he leaves as abruptly as he came. And I’m left looking at the space he just occupied. Rage slowly subsides and I'm left with confusion. He’s disgusted with himself? He’s… self-aware? I touch my chin in thought, wondering how I should feel about this. Does he truly want me to kill him? Or is this all just a game for him? Was he jesting? I wouldn’t be surprised if the answer was all of the above. [[Silently start washing myself.]]

There is no bloodlust in his eyes, no hatred towards me. The disgust that’s there is desperate, aimed at himself more than me. It’s as if he’s desperate for me to believe his words, just like he believes in them. That he’s a monster and I should kill him. Finally, the look in his gaze changes. It turns into despair, into disgust when he looks at his hands on my chin. He lets me go too quickly, as if my skin burned his skin. “I should go.” He stands up, all but ignoring my gaze. “Don’t stay too long, Niall will get worried. The wagon will take you back home.” With these words he leaves as abruptly as he came. And I’m left looking at the space he just occupied. He’s disgusted with himself? He’s… self-aware? I touch my chin in thought, wondering how I should feel about this. Does he truly want me to kill him? Or is this all just a game for him? Was he jesting? I wouldn’t be surprised if the answer was all of the above. [[Silently start washing myself.]]

And he looks at me. Is he wondering the same? His dark eyes penetrate mine with such intensity it’s difficult to not look away. I’m unsure if I even wanted to. But it’s as if there’s hesitation lurking beneath his intensity. His brows twitch, and the corners of his mouth do the same. It’s like he’s fighting against a grimace. He slightly opens his mouth but not a sound comes out. Unsaid words float between us. I don’t know what I even wanted to say to him. Was it something about the reasoning why I let him bathe with me? Would I even be ready to share that with him? Then, finally, he breaks the silence: [[“What would your father think?”]]

Why am I letting him get so close to me? Why didn’t I tell him to get lost when he offered? The water is still. There’s the dim reflection of my face, looking back at me, offering no explanation. Because I already know why. But I don’t want to. “You look uncomfortable,” he says. I turn to look at him. And he shifts under my gaze. “You, too,” I say. And it’s the truth. “Huh?” He lets out a laugh. It has a nervous pitch to it, I don’t think I’ve heard him sound like that. He hears it, too. And it makes the smile on his face die. He looks away. Then, his next words make my blood go cold: [[“What would your father think?”]]

I squint my eyes closed and try to ignore his presence. I’m too tired to think of the reasons as to why he’s here, why did I let him be here. None of that matters. I just want to enjoy my bath. “You look uncomfortable." His words interrupt the silence. I turn to look at him. And he shifts under my gaze. “You, too,” I say. And it’s the truth. He seems to almost shrink to himself. It’s unusual to witness. “Huh?” He lets out a laugh. It has a nervous pitch to it, I don’t think I’ve heard him sound like that. He hears it, too. And it makes the smile on his face die. He looks away. Then, his next words make my blood go cold: [[“What would your father think?”]]

\<<set $niall_bath to true>> !!Niall’s villa? I gaze at the villa with some suspicion. Can I really just go in there? Marcus promised that I could but I haven’t asked Niall directly. “You can go in, boy. My Lord told you so. And he…” The wagon driver takes a deep breath, clearly preparing himself for something he’s not thrilled to share. “He said that you can rest easy, relax, and wash your worries away. There are lotions, oils, and perfumes waiting for your arrival. Also, if your…” The man sighs and grits his teeth: “Tummy is empty, there is wine and food.” “Niall said that?” “My Lord did indeed order me to say that.” He doesn’t look happy about the fact. [[Awfully nice of him. “Thank you.”|c6_n_thankyou]] [[How kind of him. Suspiciously so…|c6_n_suspish]] [[Remain silent and start walking away.|c6_n_ignorewalk]]

No matter the motives, it’s still nice to be looked after. And my tummy is indeed quite empty. The man, however, rolls his eyes at Niall’s considerate words he was forced to repeat. Uninterested in continuing the conversation, he waves me off. [[Continue|marcus_bath1]]

I only partly realize that I’m squinting my eyes at the thought of Niall being so nice. “Right?” the man says, reading my reaction right. “It’s sickly sweet.” [[Defend Niall.|c6_n_defend]] [[Ignore him and walk away.|c6_n_ignorewalk]]

The man lets out a relieved sigh and leaves with haste. As do I. If a meal is waiting for me in addition to a bath, I can’t waste any more time. [[Continue|marcus_bath1]]

I stare at him, to make sure I heard right. He looks straight into my eyes. It’s a penetrative stare. Challenging. Probing. “What did you say?” I ask. “What would your father say if he knew you wanted to share a bath with me?” he repeats the question without hesitation. His jaw tense as he continues to look at me. [[Tears flood into my eyes.]] [[Keep calm. He’s trying to get a rise out of me.]] [["Why the fuck are you bringing him up?"]]

\<<set $marcus_cry to true>>Humiliation and anger floods over me as I process the situation. The man who killed him dares to use it to attack me. I blink and the tears escape me without my will. I don’t want to cry in front of him but I can’t help it. This is just too much. He offers me no comforting words, not even a glance. Nothing. Did I actually expect something? “I think I should go.” He gets up. Still, he doesn’t look at me. “The wagon will take you back home.” With these words, he leaves. And I’m left looking at the space he just occupied. [[And the tears flow freely.]]

I bite my teeth and breathe deep. I don’t know what his aim is but I won’t let him get what he wants. “Why do bring him up?" “So you won’t forget.” “Forget that you killed him?” The logic behind this is baffling, illogical, and it takes everything in me not to lash out at him. “Perhaps it wasn’t necessary,” he says all too easily as he gets up. “Just wanted to make sure.” [[“Eat shit and die.”]] [[“And now you’ll just leave me alone?”]] [[Just look at him.]]

Anger floods into my words and I try my best not to lash out at him. He’d deserve it, he’d deserve that and more. But he wants me to lash out at him. Why else would he bring him up? “So you won’t forget.” “Forget that you killed him?” The logic behind this is baffling, illogical, and it takes everything in me not to lash out at him. “Perhaps it wasn’t necessary,” he says all too easily as he gets up. “Just wanted to make sure.” [[“Eat shit and die.”]] [[“And now you’ll just leave me alone?”]] [[Just look at him.]]

\<<set $marcus_cry to true>>To think that I’d let that man make me cry is the most pathetic thing I’ve ever done in my life. But it won’t stop the tears from flowing. They taste of shame and grief, anger and bitterness. Why did I let him get through to me? Why did I let him bathe with me? And why does it hurt so much? How he threw it all in my face. [[“Hati? What’s wrong?”|niall cry (post marcus)]]

“Die on my own? And make your job easier for you?” He scoffs and the sound rings cruelly in the air. “The wagon will take you back home.” With these words, he leaves. And I’m left looking at the space he just occupied. And with those words, he leaves. [[Cry. I’m a fool.]] [[Ignore him. Ignore everything.]] [[Why would he say that? Why now?]]

He looks away. “I should. Yes.” He doesn’t want to meet my gaze. He doesn't want to face what he caused. How he hurt me. How he keeps hurting me. “The wagon will take you back home.” With these words, he leaves. And I’m left looking at the space he just occupied. [[Cry. I’m a fool.]] [[Ignore him. Ignore everything.]] [[Why would he say that? Why now?]]

I don’t know what I expect to see. The reason for his sudden act of cruelty? Does he really need one? He looks away. He doesn’t want to meet my gaze. “The wagon will take you back home.” With these words, he leaves. And I’m left looking at the space he just occupied. [[Cry. I’m a fool.]] [[Ignore him. Ignore everything.]] [[Why would he say that? Why now?]]

\<<set $marcus_cry to true>>To think that I’d let that man make me cry is the most pathetic thing I’ve ever done in my life. But it doesn’t stop the tears from flowing. They taste of shame and grief, anger and bitterness. Why did I let him get through to me? Why did I let him bathe with me? And why does it hurt so much? How he threw it all in my face. [[“Hati? What’s wrong?”|niall cry (post marcus)]]

I do my best to ignore his cruel words, his sudden departure. He left me alone. I should be happy about that. And his cruelty shouldn’t surprise me. Nor faze me. So, I won’t let them. Instead, I will soak here for a bit more. After all, I’m finally alone. [[“Hati? Is something wrong?”|niall nocry (post marcus)]]

First, he insists on bathing with me, then he puts all the blame on me? Why? Am I the illogical one for even trying to decipher the meaning behind this? Perhaps he just wants to hurt me more. Perhaps he does… I stare at the water and try not to blame myself for letting him get too close to hurt me again. [[“Hati? Is something wrong?”|niall nocry (post marcus)]]

I blink through my tears, I blink at the sudden words, the tone of voice that is softer than Marcus’s, more hesitant, afraid that he shouldn’t be here to witness me. Niall. He shifts uncomfortably when our gazes meet. “I, uh, was around and heard an argument.” He looks like he’s unsure if he should run to me and dry my tears away. He looks like he wants to. Do I want him to? [[No. "Go away."|"Go away."]] [[Yes.|niall comfort post marcus]]

I blink at the sudden words, the tone of voice that is softer than Marcus’s, more hesitant, afraid that he shouldn’t be here to witness me. Niall. He shifts uncomfortably when our gazes meet. “I, uh, was around and heard an argument.” “An argument,” I say, tasting the word. I suppose that’s what it was. “Do you want me to, uh… leave? I’m sorry, Marcus looked like he did something wrong and I wanted to make sure that–” That he didn’t hurt me. Did he stay behind to make sure? [["Go away."]] [[I think I don’t mind that he’s here.|niall comfort post marcus]]

\<<set $niall_the_oaf to true>> He gives me a quick, fervent nod. “Of course, I’m sorry. I just saw Marcus and he–, I, I’m sorry. I’ll leave.” And he does. <<if $marcus_cry is true>>I wipe the tears and grit my teeth.<</if>>\ I really need to leave this place before anyone else comes here. What next? The Legate? Shivers run down my spine. I'm not safe here. I need to leave. [[Continue|Back at the barracks.]]

<<set $niall_comfort to true>> I give him a quick nod. I can’t say I’m too bothered by his arrival. At least I’m not alone. Niall steps hesitantly towards me, towards the pool. Creases of worry distort his features. He sits down next to me, not entering the pool but trying to get as close to me as he can without it. <<if $marcus_cry is true>>Hesitation paints his gaze as he looks at me. He wants to wipe my tears away. [[Let him.|niall wipe my tears away]] [[Shake my head.|niall keep your distance]] <<else>> [["What did he do?" he asks.]] <</if>>\

Still hesitating, his large hand hovers over my cheek. Another runaway teardrop escapes the corner of my eye, erasing any and all traces of caution in his gaze. Gently but firmly he wipes the tears off my cheeks. [["What did he do?" he asks.]]

He lowers his hand and gives me an understanding nod. At least, I think it’s meant to be understanding. It looks more nervous and and even more anxious. He doesn’t know what to do with his hands. [["What did he do?" he asks.]]

The tone is accusatory, he knows it was Marcus who caused this. I almost scoff at the thought. Of course he knows, he's his brother. I must not be the first one he’s hurt in this lifetime. [["I don't want to talk about it."|niall nope talk]] [["He killed my father and gloated about it."][$niall_truth_father to true]] \<<if $marcus_cry is true>> [["It doesn't matter."|niall doesn't matter]] <</if>>

\<<if $marcus_cry is true>> I shake my head. My cheeks are heated with shame and anger, still wet by tears he caused. I can’t believe I let Marcus affect me this way. Niall gives me a stern nod. “You don’t have to tell me. I have eyes." A grimace distorts his features. "He made you cry." The tone of his voice turns harsh as the veins on his neck grow more prominent. He stands up with his hands curled into tight fists. “I will make him regret it.” He starts striding towards the door. His whole large frame is flooded with righteous ire. [["No! Please, stay."|c6_m_niallstay]] [[Just look at him leave.|c6_m_lookatniallleave]] \<<else>> I shake my head. I’m not interested in talking about it, not right now. Besides, what’s there to say? That’s he’s a cruel idiot? That I shouldn’t be here? No. I’d rather not dwell on it. Niall looks at me, evidently trying to come up with the best course of action. But since I refuse to tell him what Marcus did, there is little he can do. Perhaps it’s better that way. I’ve had enough of drama for one night. <</if>>\

Once again, his eyes widen, this time with more violence. He opens his mouth but nothing comes out. “He– He–” he tries. Twins above, he really tries to say something. Then, so suddenly that my heart almost skips a beat, he shoots up and growls: “I will break his hands.” Before I can realize what’s happening, he’s already running towards the door. [["No! Please, stay."|c6_m_niallstay]] [[Just look at him leave.|c6_m_lookatniallleave]]

\<<if $marcus_cry is true>> My voice is still hoarse due to crying, it makes my plea sound even more miserable. <</if>>\ Niall turns to me, his face a mixed bag of feelings. He looks at the door and sighs in defeat. “He’s probably not even here anymore.” “Probably not.” He meekly comes back next to the pool. “Sorry.” “You don’t need to apologize.” \<<if $niall_truth_father is true>> “He killed…” He can’t even continue the sentence. And now I realize that he doesn’t even question the truth behind my words. He believed me without a second thought. “My father,” I say silently. “And to think that he’s been treating you like it’s all a joke,” he continues, his face distorted with disbelief. I sigh deeply. Finally, someone sees the absurdity of this situation. “I… I’m so sorry. He’s… I…” He tries to find the right words but he keeps fumbling. The sentiment is there and I appreciate it. “Thank you.” He nods but it’s clear that he doesn’t think there’s nothing I should thank him for. \<<else>> He smiles, the smile is a little embarrassed but bright all the same. “I will still beat him up.” “Is that a promise?” I’m not sure if I believe him. He doesn’t seem the type to beat anyone up. But I appreciate the thought. His features grow more grim. How easily his expressions flow through him, like water. “Yes. Yes it is." <</if>> [[Continue|c6_n_silence]]

I merely give him a tired look as he leaves. I doubt Marcus stayed behind to loiter in the villa after what happened. Knowing him, he fled the scene as soon as he was able. ‘Knowing him…’ I smirk at the water. Soon enough, Niall comes back, rubbing the back of his neck, his face flushed due to physical and mental fatigue. “He already left,” he says, surprising no one. He meekly comes back next to the pool. “Sorry.” \<<if $niall_truth_father is true>> “He killed…” He can’t even continue the sentence. And now I realize that he doesn’t even question the truth behind my words. He believed me without a second thought. “My father,” I say silently. “And to think that he’s been treating you like it’s all a joke,” he continues, his face distorted with disbelief. I sigh deeply. Finally, someone sees the absurdity of this situation. “I… I’m so sorry. He’s… I…” He tries to find the right words but he keeps fumbling. The sentiment is there and I appreciate it. “Thank you.” He nods but it’s clear that he doesn’t think there’s nothing I should thank him for. \<<else>> “For not beating him up?” He lets out a laugh, grateful at my little attempt at lightening the mood. “Yes. I can do that later.” “Is that a promise?” I’m not sure if I believe him. He doesn’t seem the type to beat anyone up. But I appreciate the thought. His features grow more grim. How easily his expressions flow through him, like water. “Yes. Yes it is." <</if>> [[Continue|c6_n_silence]]

\<<if $fire is true>> I snarl the words through my teeth like a wounded wolf, convincing no one. But, Niall doesn’t fight me on this. Instead, he gives me a nod. “It doesn’t. All that matters is that he made you feel this way.” \<<elseif $earth is true>> My features betray no emotion. Me crying, a mere momentary lapse in my control. Won’t let that happen again. Niall bites his lip as he looks at me. “Well… It matters to me. He made you feel that way and it’s wrong.” \<<elseif $air is true>> My tone is emotionless and empty. It’s as if it really doesn’t matter. Niall bites his lip as he looks at me. “Well… It matters to me. He made you feel that way.” \<<elseif $water is true>> I try to feign disinterest but my wavering voice betrays me. It makes Niall’s frown grow even deeper. “It matters.” He stands up with his fists clenched. “It matters to me.” <</if>>\ He stands up with his hands curled into fists. “I will make him regret that.” He starts striding towards the door. His whole large frame is flooded with righteous ire. [["No! Please, stay."|c6_m_niallstay]] [[Just look at him leave.|c6_m_lookatniallleave]]

Silence falls between us, neither of us sure what to say. He gives me a small smile. It’s a hesitant one, one that’s asking what he’s even doing here. What he should do about this situation, about me. Then, his expression changes. It takes a mere moment to realize that his gaze is glued to my chest. Amidst all the chaos, I rose too far from the water level. \<<if $sex is "female">> His face turns into that of sheer horror. “You’re a… A…” [[Oh, crap!|c6_n_femalecrap]] [["Please don’t make a big fuss about it, not now."|c6_n_nofuss]] /<<elseif $sex is "male">> His face is confused. “That’s a big tattoo,” he says. “It’s just a tattoo,” I quickly say and sink deeper into the pool again to shield myself from his gaze. He seemingly racks his brain, trying to find the missing information that’s hidden within. The information about the tattoo and its meaning. “I remember soldiers talking about it.” His words are silent, trying to recall more. “When they killed that tribe up in the North. The druids were branded. Someone even skinned a druid’s tattoo and treated it as a lucky charm.” “Someone did what?” “They… The tattoo had two birds in it. Just like yours. Are you…” “Who skinned the druid?” I ask, my voice building up ire. His eyes widen in realization. So much information, so little time to process it. “I… It doesn’t matter.” "It doesn't matter that there’s someone in the fort right now, parading about with the piece of skin of my friend?" “I’m sorry, I shouldn’t have said anything. I’m so sorry, I… I don’t know what to say. I– You–” An incoherent string of words leaves Niall’s mouth as he’s trying to rectify the situation. I breathe in deeply. He wasn’t there. He didn’t kill them. [[He’s just an idiot.|c6_n_anidiot]] [[He tries his best, I’m sure.|c6_n_triedhisbest]] <</if>>

“Shit!” I hide my chest but it’s futile. He saw my chest. I shouldn’t have let him in here. It’s too late now. He knows. “No! It’s alright!” He all but shrieks at me. “You’re fine! This is fine!” “It doesn’t sound like it’s fine.” “No it’s not fine but you were crying and that takes priority!” He buries his face in his hands and muffled laments escape the gaps of his fingers: “You’re a woman. In the Roman army.” \<<if $cis isnot true>> “No. It’s not that simple.” However, in their eyes it is just that simple. They would kill me if they found out. <</if>>\ I shield my chest and sigh. This is definitely not what I needed right now. “Why are you here?” Niall asks with his voice hoarse with emotion. “It’s a long story. I came from Caledonia–” “Cale–?” He looks at my chest that’s now hidden underwater. “The tattoo.” He lets out a long, painful groan. “So, it’s not enough that you could be killed because of your sex, you could also be killed because you’re the druid of the enemy?” “Enemy.” I smirk at the word. “That’s the gist of it, yes.” Another groan. [["I’m the druid of the grove that was destroyed by you Romans."]] [["I’m the druid of the grove that was destroyed in Caledonia."]] [[Remain silent.|c6_n_silentcaledonia]]

\<<if $marcus_cry is true>> I give him a look of pure weariness. I’m tired, I let an idiot make me cry, I don’t need this drama right now. And, to his credit, he just nods. He nods, violently so, but keeps his mouth shut. Little noises try to break free before he stops them. “Let’s not talk about that, yes,” he finally manages to say. “Everything is fine. Perfectly fine. We need to prioritize.” He orients himself on me and there’s a focused frown on his forehead. “You were crying, that’s more important.” \<<else>> I give him a look of pure weariness. I’m tired of all the drama, I just want to soak in silence. And, to his credit, he just nods. He nods, violently so, but keeps his mouth shut. Little noises try to break free before he stops them. “Let’s not talk about that, yes,” he finally manages to say. “Everything is fine. Perfectly fine. We need to prioritize.” He orients himself on me and there’s a focused frown on his forehead. “Marcus made you feel uncomfortable.” <</if>>\ “I’m fine now.” This chaos took my mind off things. “You are?” He gives me a doubtful look. A little smile tugs at his lips. “So, I can freak out now?” “Preferably no.” A smile. A smile that bears hesitation and confusion. But it’s bright all the same. Bright and warm. "Just one more thing, if you don't mind." He frowns at the water. "Marcus knows?" [["Yes."|c6_n_yes]]

He’s just an idiot who infected me with a mental image I’d rather have lived without, the image of the cut out skin lingers in the front of my head. Why must he say everything out loud like an idiot? “I’m so sorry. I’m an idiot.” At least he knows it, too. I give him a little nod, ‘yes, you are’. I sigh wearily. He knows now who I am. Maybe it’s a relief. Now I don’t have to rely on Marcus’s ‘help’ alone. He sighs, too, the sound exposing his own state of fatigue. He gives me a hesitant glance. “But… Why are you here? You could be killed at any moment.” Killed, yes. Would my tattoo be skinned, too? [[“I don’t want to talk about it.”|c6_n_notalk]] [[I'm not sure if I should tell him.|c6_n_truth]]

Sure, he infected me with a mental image I’d rather have lived without, the image of the cut out skin lingers in the front of my head, but it wasn’t intentional. “I’m so sorry. I’m an idiot.” I shake my head wearily. “I’m just a little tired. It’s been a long day.” He knows now who I am. Maybe it’s a relief. Now I don’t have to rely on Marcus’s ‘help’ alone. “I can imagine,” he says as his own words reveal his fatigue. “But… Why are you here? You could be killed at any moment.” Killed, yes. Would my tattoo be skinned, too? [[“I don’t want to talk about it.”|c6_n_notalk]] [[I'm not sure if I should tell him.|c6_n_truth]]

“I… Of course. You don’t need to talk about anything you don’t want to. We can just sit here in silence. That’s fine, too.” “Good,” I say and close my eyes. I have a growing headache at the back of my eyes. This bath turned out less relaxing than I would’ve liked. “I just want you to know that you have nothing to fear from me. I will keep your secret. I will take it to my grave if I have to.” He seems to speak the truth. It’s either that or he’s a terrific liar. However, there is something within his gaze that’s unreadable. It’s fear, that much is certain, but is it truly on my behalf? "Just one more thing, if you don't mind." He frowns at the water. "Marcus knows?" [["Yes."|c6_n_yes]]

\<<if $manipulated is true>> There’s a voice inside me urging me to say that I’m here for revenge but that’s not the whole truth. He would grow all the more worried if I told him that I have no recollection of the time after I left home and arrived here. That I don’t know why I’m here. That’s a discussion for another time. Instead, I give him a little shrug. I’m not sure what to tell him. And he seemingly fills in the blanks that I leave him with. \<<elseif $determined is true>> ‘I’m here for revenge,’ I’d like to say. However, I’m not sure if he would try to stop me. I should expect that he'd try. The revenge I'm after includes both his father and his brother. So, instead of the truth, I give him a little shrug. He can interpret that however he pleases. And, he does. Realization seems to flood his anxious mind. <</if>>\ “I understand that you don’t trust me yet. I don’t think I would trust me, either. But let me be clear: you have nothing to fear from me. I will keep your secret. I will take it to my grave if I have to.” He seems to speak the truth. It’s either that or he’s a terrific liar. However, there is something within his gaze that’s unreadable. It’s fear, that much is certain, but is it truly on my behalf? "Just one more thing, if you don't mind." He frowns at the water. "Marcus knows?" [["Yes."|c6_n_yes]]

Niall buries both of his hands into his hair and sighs, deeply. “Of course he did. He's been lying to me.” “I lied–” “You had a good reason!” His shout echoes in the room. With a shake of his head, he buries his face into his hands. “I’m sorry for raising my voice. You haven’t done anything wrong.” [[Pat his thigh to comfort him.]] [[“I didn’t want anyone else to know.” Defend Marcus.]] [[He’s taking my side awfully quickly. I wonder what’s behind it?]]

He flinches at my accusatory words. They’re harsh but they’re true. It was destroyed by Romans and he is a Roman. “I… I’m so sorry,” he whispers. “I… I don’t know what to say.” “There’s nothing to say.” My words bleed of resentment. “But… They could find you out and kill you. Why are you risking your life here?” he asks. [[“I don’t want to talk about it.”|c6_n_notalk]] [[I'm not sure if I should tell him.|c6_n_truth]]

I’m careful not to blame him. He wasn’t there. Still, he flinches at my words. “I… I’m so sorry,” he whispers. “I… I don’t know what to say.” “There’s nothing to say.” There isn’t. “But… They could find you out and kill you. Why are you risking your life here?” he asks. [[“I don’t want to talk about it.”|c6_n_notalk]] [[I'm not sure if I should tell him.|c6_n_truth]]

I’m not sure what else to say. The truth is out and now I’m just re-evaluating my life decisions. This whole night has been a disaster. “I…,” he tries to start but nothing coherent comes out. “I…” Another try. [[It’s almost funny to see him squirm.]] [[I really don’t know what else to say.]]

He really tries to come up with something to say. Something to comfort me with? Something to make himself feel better about this? His face is a storm of anxiety and I can’t help but to gaze at it. I let out a little chuckle. And he frowns. “Are you laughing at me?” “A little.” He lets out a sigh that seems to ease up on his raging feelings. The frown subsides but it’s not fully gone. Then, a smile. A smile that bears hesitation and confusion. But it’s bright all the same. Bright and warm. "Just one more thing, if you don't mind." He frowns at the water. "Marcus knows?" [["Yes."|c6_n_yes]]

Niall, however, has so much else to say. It’s written all over his face, the need to know. “They could find you out and kill you. Why are you risking your life here?” he asks. [[“I don’t want to talk about it.”|c6_n_notalk]] [[I'm not sure if I should tell him.|c6_n_truth]]

\<<if $dummy is true>> I’m not sure. Try as I might, I can’t figure out the reason why he takes my word so quickly. He might be trying to fool me but it’s starting to feel like an overly complicated con. Maybe there isn’t more to this. Maybe he’s just a kind person. I squint my eyes at him. What is your deal, Niall? Maybe I should go with the assumption that he’s a… [[Good person.|A useful fool?]] [[Useful fool.|A useful fool?][$niall_user to true]] \<<else>> He approached me in the first place and claimed that he sees himself in me. He is adopted, he most likely was young when he came here. I’m from the Isles, alone amidst the Romans. Is that truly enough for him to take a liking to me? To risk his life for me? //a fool// [[He seems like a good person.|A useful fool?]] [[A useful fool.|A useful fool?][$niall_user to true]] <</if>>

I don’t know what else to do. He looks almost shattered by the news. I don’t know what we have between us but it can’t be easy to hear that your brother has been lying to you. So, I reach out to pat his thigh. It’s hard against my palm and it tenses even more when he looks at me. “Oh?” Niall looks at the hand and lets out a little laugh. “You shouldn’t comfort me, you have it backwards.” “This is a lot,” I say empathetically. “But it’s a lot more for you. I… I don’t know how you do it. You’re so strong.” He looks at me, his gaze filled with such earnest admiration that it almost makes me look away. “Thank you,” I whisper, not sure if I feel particularly strong. [[He’s taking my side awfully quickly. I wonder what’s behind it?]]

But Niall shakes it off with a violent firm headshake. “If I’d known, I could’ve helped you. I could’ve offered you this private bath earlier. Why didn’t he offer?” Niall looks at me, seemingly waiting for any new info that would let Marcus off the hook. But I have nothing. All I can do is to frown at the question because it’s a good one. Perhaps Marcus didn’t care enough. Maybe he truly is a bastard who just likes to toy with my life. Niall sighs. “I will break his hands.” His tone is defeated and tired. Too many emotions in one sitting. “Why his hands?” “So he can’t wield his sword anymore.” Oh. Tribune has a cruel streak to him. “How devious of you.” He chuckles. “I’m just joking.” “Dark humor.” “Dark revelations.” Another defeated sigh. \<<if $marcus_killer is true>> Breaking Marcus's hands is a good idea. Will have to keep that in mind for future reference. <</if>> [[He’s taking my side awfully quickly. I wonder what’s behind it?]]

\<<if $niall_user is true>> He seems a naive boy at heart. No scars corrupt his skin. Not a trace of malice taint his gaze when he looks at me. His smile is bright and eager when I give him positive attention. Too soft. Mother would’ve called him a useful fool and she’d be right. \<<else>> Mother would call him a useful fool. That's a ruthless way to look at people. Should I just trust that he's a good person? The way he looks at me almost makes me believe it. How his worried expression only deepened when he learned that I’m in constant danger. How he vowed to keep my secret. It makes me wish I could just trust him. <</if>>\ He gives me a hesitant smile and I realize I’ve been looking at him. [[Silence continues.|c6_n_silence2]]

“You don’t want to talk,” he repeats while clearly fighting against the urge to talk about everything that was revealed. “No.” “So… A hug?” he offers as he stands up with his arms stretched out. He looks like he needs one, too. [[I need to get my mind off Marcus. So, why not?|c6_n_comfort]] [[I need some comforting.|c6_n_comfort]] [[I shake my head.|c6_n_nohugs]]

So, I stand up from the pool, fully naked, dripping wet, and take a step towards him. There’s a myriad of feelings fully on display on his face: confusion about the situation, anger towards Marcus, hesitation. Fear. It’s all that and more. Yet still, he opens his arms to invite me in. And I enter. I bury myself in his embrace, rub my wet face against his soft tunic. [[I feel my eyes sting again.|c6_n_cryhug]] [[Just hug him. Take a deep breath.|c6_n_justhug]] [[Feign sadder than I truly am to make him feel sorry for me.][$niall_user to true]]

He opts for hugging himself as he smiles apologetically for asking. “I’ll let you bathe in peace. Take your time, I’ll be waiting in the tablinum. I mean, that is, if you want to leave with me. I mean I don’t have to leave anywhere anyway. I could escort you out and maybe join you for the wagon ride home and–” [[“I just didn’t feel like hugging right now. Sorry.”]] [[“Sure.”]]

I can’t help it, even if I try. Everything is out in the open. All of my lies that I told to protect myself, all of my raw emotions are laid bare in front of him. He knows so much and I barely know him. It scares me. I have to trust him. Trust him not to throw me to the other Romans. There’s the humiliation, the anger caused by Marcus. “Hush, now,” he whispers against my hair, making shivers run through my body. “Shh.” To his credit, his words help, his touch soothes my mind. Perhaps it shouldn’t surprise me. He seems so used to comforting others, giving his time and his body for others to use. I stay in his arms for a good while and he doesn’t rush me. [[Let go of him with a grateful smile.]] [[Let go of him.|c6_n_letgo]] [[Feel up his body.]] [[Look up at him, at his lips.]]

His body is incredibly warm against me. His strong arms embrace me with the promise of protection. The weirdest thing is that I almost believe that he would protect me if I needed it. I don’t mind being here, listening to his heartbeat, feeling his shaky breath on my skin. He smells so sweet. There’s the usual earthy smell to him, the smell of herbs. But there’s something else beneath it all. Something so sweet it could be off-putting to some. But I inhale it, indulge it. It clears my muddled mind. It’s like lying on a bed of roses underneath the late spring sun. His muscles tense up under my touch, reminding me of his physical prowess. This rose has its thorns. How ready he was to avenge me. He seems to be fully prepared to protect me even when he doesn’t really know me that well. It’s bordering on foolishness but I’m not complaining. [[Let go of him with a grateful smile.]] [[Let go of him.|c6_n_letgo]] [[Feel up his body.]] [[Look up at him, at his lips.]]

It’s an easy enough task, I’m buried deep in his embrace. He can’t see my face that lacks the emotions I’m feigning with the help of my deep, shaky sighs. I appreciate him coming to my rescue. I appreciate that he’s here with me. However, I also need to realize that I need allies. And he’s all too eager to volunteer himself. He’s a high-ranking man who can get me to places. It’s perfect. Almost too much so but his words seem to ring true. He squeezes his arms around me to stop my shivering. His strong arms embrace me with a promise of protection. Good. The added bonus is that I don’t mind being here, listening to his heartbeat, feeling his shaky breath on my skin. He smells so sweet. There’s the usual earthy smell to him, the smell of herbs. But there’s something else beneath it all. Something so sweet it’s almost off-putting. It’s like lying on a bed of roses underneath the late spring sun. His muscles tense up under my touch, reminding me of his physical prowess. This rose has its thorns. And he seems already willing to use them in my name. [[Let go of him with a grateful smile.]] [[Let go of him.|c6_n_letgo]] [[Feel up his body.]] [[Look up at him, at his lips.]]

“Thank you,” I say. The smile on his face brightens up even more when he sees mine. Then, he looks at my naked body and his face flushes red. “Do you want to bathe still?” “A while longer. It’s been long since I last bathed in peace.” I start making my way back to the pool, all too aware that Niall has a clear view to my buttocks. “Of course!” His voice is a tad too high pitched for his usual tone. “I’ll let you bathe in peace. Take your time, I’ll be waiting in the tablinum.” The office of the master of the house. “If you need any oils, there are some on the shelf there.” He points at a shelf brimming with different-sized and colored flasks. “Anyway… Ring the bell if you need anything.” He gives me one last smile before leaving. His step is hurried and he almost crashes into a statue on the way. Finally, alone. [[Continue|Back at the barracks.]]

He gives me a bright smile. Then, he looks at my naked body and his face flushes red. “Do you want to bathe still?” “A while longer. It’s been long since I last bathed in peace.” I start making my way back to the pool, all too aware that Niall has a clear view to my buttocks. “Of course!” His voice is a tad too high pitched for his usual tone. “I’ll let you bathe in peace. Take your time, I’ll be waiting in the tablinum.” The office of the master of the house. “If you need any oils, there are some on the shelf there.” He points at a shelf brimming with different-sized and colored flasks. “Anyway… Ring the bell if you need anything.” He gives me one last smile before leaving. His step is hurried and he almost crashes into a statue on the way. Finally, alone. [[Continue|Back at the barracks.]]

\<<if $niall_user is true>> My hands start to wander on his clothed body, all too eager to touch his burning skin. \<<else>> I don’t know why, probably to distract myself from my flooding of emotions, my hands start to wander on his clothed body, all too eager to touch his burning skin. <</if>>\ His muscles tense against me like a bent string on a bow. “Please don’t go,” I whisper. He takes a deep breath before giving me a smile. “I won’t.” It feels like a promise. “I just… want some comfort.” He swallows. “I can be that for you.” His words make me smile. “Are you sure?” His tenseness makes me ask. “I will help you however I can.” Another whisper meant for my ears only. “Thank you.” [[Fade to black.|c6_n_aftercare]] [[On a second thought, I don't think I want this.|c6_n_smutnope]] [["Do you want me?"|c6_n_smut]]

\<<set $niall_sex to true>> “Oh, dear, I made a mess of things,” Niall muses as he looks at the cum on my stomach. With a frown on his face he takes off his tunic and starts wiping my skin. The cloth is soft, lavish, just like everything he owns. His touch is gentle and there’s a familiar shade of redness lingering on the tips of his ears. But the frown on his face is determined. He still has a semi-erection and he tries not to poke me with it. \<<if $sex is "male">> "This was your first time with a man?" "Yes." <</if>> [[“Are you alright?”|c6_n_alright?]] [[Let out a laugh.|c6_n_laugh]] [[“I want to bathe now.”|c6_n_justonemorething]]

“This will do,” I say as I come to my senses. He seems all too tense for anything else, even if he claims that he’s eager. He breathes out, almost in relief. “If that’s what you want...” “Another time?” He let out a sharp chuckle. “Sure.” He gives me a quick peck on my cheek before retreating with his face flushed, as per usual. “Do you want to bathe still?” “A while longer. It’s been long since I last bathed in peace.” I start making my way back to the pool, all too aware that Niall has a clear view to my buttocks. “Of course!” His voice sounds a little hoarse. “I’ll let you bathe in peace. Take your time, I’ll be waiting in the tablinum.” The office of the master of the house. “If you need any oils, there are some on the shelf there.” He points at a shelf which is brimming with different-sized and colored flasks. “Anyway… Ring the bell if you need anything.” He gives me one last smile before leaving. His step is hurried and he almost crashes into a statue on the way. Finally, alone. [[Continue|Back at the barracks.]]

\<<set $niall_sex to true>> Before I give him time to answer, I push myself against him, against his erection, and lean in to whisper: “Do you want me to touch you?” A puff of air leaves his soft lips. The worry in his gaze is drowned by his growing need. \<<if $height is "short">> With a smile on my face, I caress his powerful arm. “I can’t hear you, Lord Tribune. I want you to say it.” \<<elseif (($height is "average") or ($height is "tall"))>> With a smile on my face, I caress his powerful shoulder. “I can’t hear you, Lord Tribune. I want you to say it.” <</if>>\ But, instead of answering, he manages to move his head in a way that can only be interpreted as a nod. “Good enough,” I say and he sighs in relief. “Good boy,” I whisper as I move the tunic to reveal him. He draws in a sharp breath. But, to his credit, he doesn’t look away. There’s absolutely nothing to be ashamed of, his cock is as big as the rest of him. I grab him, and he grunts. His erection in my hand grows even harder, it pulses with need against my palm. [[Keep still to tease him.|c6_n_teasesmut]]

His face distorts in apprehension. “No! Never say sorry for not wanting to hug. I’m just making this more awkward than it needs to be, don’t mind me. I just wanted to say that you can take your time and your wagon is waiting for you.” “Alright. Thank you.” A smile lingers on my lips and seeing it relaxes him a little, too. “I’m sorry. I mean I’ll stop apologizing right now. Sorry– I’ll leave now!” His step is hurried and he almost crashes into a statue on the way. Finally, alone. [[Continue|Back at the barracks.]]

A little smile lingers on my lips and seeing it relaxes him a little, too. “If you need any oils, there are some on the shelf there.” He points at a shelf brimming with different-sized and colored flasks. “Anyway… Ring the bell if you need anything.” He gives me one last smile before leaving. His step is hurried and he almost crashes into a statue of Faunus on the way. Finally, alone. [[Continue|Back at the barracks.]]

I remain still, holding his gaze and keeping his needing cock in my grasp. He wants me to start stroking him, he needs it. Instead, I give him a knowing smile. “What do you want?” I ask. “I–” I can barely hear him. It’s a whisper and a moan mixed together, it’s a husky plea to start moving my hand, to help him with his need. “What was it?” I ask again. Instead of answering, he looks at my hand. Then, to my surprise, he starts moving his hips against my palm. It’s a slow, hesitant movement at first. Then, it picks up speed. His pelvic muscles strain by the effort as he starts to fuck my hand. [[Caress his hair.]] [[Pull his hair.]]

His lips are soft and pillowy, perfectly kissable. Just like him. \<<if (($height is "tall") or ($height is "average"))>> And they’re so close to mine. \<<elseif $height is "short">> I almost tiptoe to get closer to them. <</if>>\ I shift a little closer to him, just a little, and his large frame tenses against my skin. He’s holding his breath. Am I holding mine? His gaze strays from my naked arms to my naked chest. “Uh, you’re really close.” His voice rings darker than usual, more hoarse. He clears his throat and squeezes my arms a little too tight. It feels like he’s on the verge of pushing me away. [[“Oh. Sorry.” Retreat.]] [[“Does it bother you?” I tease him.]]

I slow the pace, give him time to breathe. I stroke him gently as I look at him. He returns my gaze with his hazy eyes, his eyelids drooping. His messy hair shields his heated gaze. I put a strand of hair behind his ear and give him a smile. He makes me smile. The dick in my hand twitches. [[He looks cute.]] [[He's almost pathetic.]]

“Niall,” I say, my voice steady, making sure that he looks at me. However, his gaze barely focuses on me. It’s a little annoying. I caress his wild hair with a smile on my face. It makes him return the smile. Then, I take a handful of his hair. And pull. He lets out a pained gasp. “You need to look at me when I tell you to.” He nods. He takes a hold of my arm, his grip strong like a vice. It almost hurts. [[“Don’t touch me.”]] [[Let him touch me but remain in control.]]

I order him and he lets go immediately. There’s a trace of confusion in his gaze but it’s quickly swept away by another wave of pleasure. “You need to ask for permission.” I give him a squeeze to emphasize my words and he gives me a groan in agreement. He nods, eager to please, quickly learning the rules of our game. He lets out a loud moan before hiding his mouth beneath his palm. [[Lean closer to him. I can’t hide my own excitement.]]

I give him a little smile. “Niall,” I whisper gently, a wicked smile dancing on my lips. He gives me a small nod to indicate that he’s listening. “Ask for permission next time.” I give him a squeeze to emphasize my words and he gives me a groan in agreement. He nods, eager to please, quickly learning the rules of our game. He lets out a loud moan before hiding it beneath his palm. [[Lean closer to him. I can’t hide my own excitement.]]

The way he trembles under my touch, it’s… “Adorable,” I say out loud. My words conjure up a hesitant smile on his face. Instinctively, seeing it makes me squeeze his cock. He groans, almost in pain. He takes a hold of my arm, his grip strong like a vice. It almost hurts. [[“Don’t touch me.”]] [[Let him touch me but remain in control.]]

The mighty Tribune trembles under my touch. I brush his hair again, still gently, but this time I say: “Feels good, huh?” He nods. “What if I stopped?” A surge of worry clears his gaze from its haze, but not completely. “Would you beg me to continue?” I whisper. He frowns and I let out a little laugh. I will have to torture him more at another time. He takes a hold of my arm, his grip strong like a vice. It almost hurts. [[“Don’t touch me.”]] [[Let him touch me but remain in control.]]

I lean closer to him as my hand works his cock between us. I want to be closer to him. \<<if $sex is "male">> [[My own cock is painfully hard between us.]] \<<elseif $sex is "female">> I fight against my own arousal, I have to stop myself from trying to glide Niall’s cock inside me, he’s too close to his release. I bite my lip and hold on to his rock hard bicep. “Want me to–?” His raspy voice rings next to my ear. As soon as I nod, his wanting hand dives between us. Urgency drives his tender touch as he quickly finds my clit. I moan, loudly, squeezing his arm, clinging onto him, begging him to release me. And, with expertise, he starts rubbing me as fast as I’m stroking him. He cups my ass cheek with haste and buries his face on my shoulder. “Fuck–” I don’t know who said it but as soon as the words ring between us, release finds us both. [[Continue|c6_n_aftercare]] <</if>>

It twitches, yearning the same attention Niall gets. Niall looks at my dick, biting his lip so hard I fear he might draw blood, before returning his heated gaze to me. “Want me to–?” I nod as I take a hold of his rock hard bicep. “But only if you–” Want to, I was going to say, but my words are interrupted by his determined grunt as he grabs my cock. His sudden surge of confidence makes me groan as I cling to his arm. However, his hand doesn’t move even if I will him to. He seems to be frozen in place. [[“Want to stop?”]] [[Keep moving my hips.]]

I ask, not wanting to but his face makes me need to ask. It’s as if my words wake him from a daze. He blinks. Then, without saying a word, he frowns and squeezes my cock, almost hurting me. I let out a gasp mixed with pleasure and pain. His eyes widen at the sound and I feel his grasp loosen. “I’m sor–” “Just wank me already,” I snarl through my teeth. He gives me a quick nod and, with a new-found confidence, starts to stroke my cock, matching my speed. He cups my ass cheek with haste and buries his face in my shoulder. “Fuck–” I don’t know who says it but as soon as the words ring between us, release finds us both. [[Continue|c6_n_aftercare]]

Frustrated by the lack of further pleasure, I start to thrust my hips, fucking his massive hand, hoping he would stroke me back. My dissatisfied grunt seems to wake him from his daze. His hand starts gliding on my cock, carefully at first. Then, it matches my speed. He cups my ass cheek with haste and buries his face in my shoulder. “Fuck–” I don’t know who says it but as soon as the words ring between us, release finds us both. [[Continue|c6_n_aftercare]]

“No. Just wanted to make sure it’s intentional.” “Just in case I accidentally happened to lean into you and stare at your lips?” “Yes.” Then, he shrinks to himself. “I, uh, I don’t know why I talk sometimes.” “Me neither.” I almost laugh and he relaxes at the lightened atmosphere. “Next time I’ll keep my mouth shut, alright? Maybe you should bathe now. I can imagine it’s been a long day.” A little smile lingers on my lips and seeing it relaxes him a little, too. “If you need any oils, there are some on the shelf there.” He points at a shelf brimming with different-sized and colored flasks. “Anyway… Ring the bell if you need anything.” He gives me one last smile before leaving. His step is hurried and he almost crashes into a statue of Faunus on the way. Finally, alone. [[Continue|Back at the barracks.]]

“Yes. Of course. I’ve… wanted this to happen.” “How long?” I can’t help but to tease. “I don’t know.” He squirms and it makes me smile. “This is a little awkward,” he says with a smile on his face. [[Continue|c6_n_justonemorething]]

“There’s just one more thing… You shouldn’t tell anyone about this,” he says. “Of course not.” He frowns. “I need to know that you’re serious. You could get killed either over this or because they find out your real identity. That’s…” He sighs, clearly distressed. “I think I just aged 5 years today.” [["I won’t tell anyone. Why would I?"]] [[“Can I tell Marcus?”]] [[“Yes, yes. Just go already.”|c6_n_shoo]] [[Nod.|c6_n_nod]]

“What? Don’t laugh,” he says but clearly relaxes at the sound. “It makes me self-conscious.” “Sorry.” I’m not. [[Continue|c6_n_justonemorething]]

“I don’t know! I can’t exactly trust your survival instinct since you’re here undercover…” “Hey now. Uncalled for,” I say but he’s right. He gives me hesitant little nods, clearly not sure if he believes me. “You’re absolutely sure you won’t tell?” “Niall, I’m not going to get myself killed. I’ve survived this long.” “Right. Alright. I trust you. And you can trust me.” \<<if $niall_user is true>> I most likely can. He’s too honest for his own good. \<<else>> I have to. It’s entirely another thing I like the fact that I have to. <</if>> “I just don’t want you to die,” he says and he means it. That’s been my priority the last few months, too. At least someone else seems to share the sentiment now. It feels… Nice. [[Continue|Back at the barracks.]]

That would be fun. He’d deserve it. Niall looks like he’s about to deny me but then he seemingly changes his mind. “He’d deserve it.” “Right?” “You can decide what to do about that. I’d rather not think about him right now.” He tightens his fists at the thought of his brother. Marcus would definitely deserve to know. Something to consider… “I just don’t want you to die,” he says and he means it. That’s been my priority the last few months, too. At least someone else seems to share the sentiment now. It feels… Nice. [[Continue|Back at the barracks.]]

He frowns. “I’m serious.” “I am, too. I want to bathe. You’ve been harassing me long enough.” “Harass–” He gives me a small pout. “Fine. I trust that you won’t get yourself killed.” “I’ve survived this long.” Another pout. He wants to be affirmed more. He will just have to live without that because I want to bathe. I give him a little smirk before he leaves. It does feel nice that there’s someone else caring whether I live or die now. [[Continue|Back at the barracks.]]

“So… We’re in agreement?” Another nod. “Alright. Good. I just want you to die.” That’s been my priority the last few months, too. At least someone else seems to share the sentiment now. It feels... Nice. [[Continue|Back at the barracks.]]

I fly away from him to the other side of the pool. What am I doing? What was my plan? To actually rip it off? To give him an angry handjob? What? I bury my face in my hands and stifle the groan that’s trying to escape me. “Well, that was…” Marcus straightens himself. “Unexpected.” He sounds too jovial, too carefree, it almost makes me doubt if what happened was real. [[“Shut up.”]] [["I’m sorry. I shouldn’t have."]] [["Why did that excite you?"]]

Without missing a beat, I take a firmer grasp on his growing member. His whole body twitches as he takes a sharp breath. In a flash, the cock is full-grown in my palm. A surge of victory runs through me: I got a guttural reaction out of him. He’s under my command. I look at him, victoriously, expecting him to look as pained as he sounds. But nothing else reveals his excitement but his erection. Instead, he looks at me as if nothing out of the ordinary is taking place. I give it another squeeze, just to see him jerk a little. To make him plead. Instead, he says in a deep voice: “That’s not how you rip my cock off. That’s just you giving it a massage.” [[Let go. I don’t know what I’m doing.|Yelp and let go.]] [["I'll show you a massage." Double down.]]

\<<set $marcus_sex to true>> \<<set $niall_the_oaf to true>> A dark chuckle leaves his thin lips as my spiteful words echo between us. Darkness devours his gaze as he looks at me. He dares me to continue. And I do. Just to spite him. I push down on his shaft, all the way down, and look at his face as it distorts in pain. And pleasure. “Ah, fuck. Easy,” he wheezes. I merely smile at his plea. And he quickly realizes his mistake. “I mean, fuck, whatever. Just rip the whole thing off.” “That’s better,” I purr next to his ear. His rock-hard cock twitches in my hand, at my words. I can’t believe what I’m doing. I shouldn’t enjoy this. Don’t think. Just make him grovel for me. I just want to hear him moan. A suitable payback for all that he’s done. I pick up the speed and he groans in answer. I pump his cock too fast, it must hurt but I don’t give a fuck. His head falls on my shoulder. His head weighs heavy on me and I can smell the soap in his hair. [["Fuck, I'm coming."]]

I quickly straddle him and my hands curl around his neck. Hatred flows through me, it burns my skin. His pulse quickens against my fingers. And it makes me smile. Fear. I squeeze tighter at his throat and my breath quickens in excitement. Finally, finally I can kill him. Finally he will die by my hand. I look into his eyes, expecting to see fear, but there’s nothing of the sort. Instead, excitement and darkness taints his gaze. I could break his windpipe yet he still smiles. He can’t breathe and he smiles, taunting me. Redness takes over his features as he tries to speak but nothing but a wheeze of air comes out. Then, his cock twitches against my groin. My eyes widen. This excites him. “Oh hell no.” I push him off of me, fleeing his vicinity as he starts gasping for air. “Why would you–” He cackles in between his laborious breaths. “You should’ve seen your face.” “What’s wrong with you?” “I’m not the one initiating foreplay–” “It wasn’t foreplay, I wanted to kill you!” “Felt like foreplay.” He chuckles, his voice still strained as he rubs his throat. It’s difficult to say if he’s serious or not. He’s always doing this. Always making light of things. Even this. “I will definitely think of this later.” He gives me a dirty little wink. “Wh–” “But now I’ll go before you resort to trying to drown me or something. That’s less sexy.” I can only stare at him as he stands up and picks up his clothes. "Have a nice rest of the bath." Just like that, he's gone. And I'm all alone. [[Cry, I’m a mess.]] [[Silently start washing myself.]]

I sigh. He doesn’t shut up. I’m not sure if I can blame him, I did just try to– “To rip my cock off… You know how much strength that requires?” I sigh again and remain silent. He continues, and his tone too light for the seriousness of the situation: “I wouldn’t know, I haven’t tried that. It's a little too barbaric for my tastes.” I don’t answer. “You know, this is getting a little awkward. You sit there silently like a sexually assaulting statue.” “Do you ever stop talking?” “You just threatened to rip my cock off, I have the right to talk about it.” [["...I'm sorry."]] [["Shut up."|"Yes. I do." Double down.]]

“You’re sorry?” Surprise rings through his words. “Yes. I am.” Even if it's him. I went too far. I shouldn’t have. “Didn’t expect that.” Silence falls between us. "Well," he says and stretches. “You certainly made things really awkward.” I start to say something, perhaps an insult, perhaps another apology. But before I can, he says: “I forgive you.” I bite the insides of my cheek. I can’t bring myself to thank him for his forgiveness. Then, thankfully, he stands up. "I should go." He raises his hand to stop me from answering. "Have a nice rest of the bath." Just like that, he's gone. And I'm all alone. [[Cry, I’m a mess.]] [[Silently start washing myself.]]

He tilts his head, all the joviality leaving him. “So, let me get this straight. First, you assault me. Then, you blame it on me? Because of how my body reacted?” I... [["...I'm sorry."]] [["Yes. I do." Double down.]]

When he puts it like that… I shake my head. “I shouldn’t have said that,” I say through my teeth. “I shouldn’t have done that.” “An apology?” “Yes. I’m sorry.” “Hm.” He puffs out air in amusement. “Even more unexpected.” I sigh and look away in shame and anger. Anger at myself, at him, at everything that’s happened. But still, it all drowns in shame. “It’s not that big of a deal.” He shrugs. “You’re welcome to grab my dick whenever." A grin. "Would that make you feel better?” I shake my head and bury my face again. Then, thankfully, he stands up. "I should go." He raises his hand to stop me from answering. "Have a nice rest of the bath." Just like that, he's gone. And I'm all alone. [[Cry, I’m a mess.]] [[Silently start washing myself.]]

He shakes his head in clear disappointment. There’s not a trace of mockery in the gesture. He seems just… genuinely disappointed. And I get the feeling that he’s got the moral high ground this time. The thought grates me to no end. “Disappointing,” he states the obvious to further condemn me. The words make me grit my teeth. I will never apologize to that man. “But, I can see how our relationship makes it difficult for you to see these things clearly. I forgive you.” “You wh–” “I only wish you to learn some manners in the future. Or manage to murder me properly.” Before I can give him an answer, he stands up with his dick till half-erect. “I must go before you try to assault me again, my dearest boorish friend.” “I–” But he’s already walking away. And I'm left alone. Alone with my thoughts. [[Cry, I’m a mess.]] [[Silently start washing myself.]]

\<<set $marcus_cry to true>> What was I thinking? What’s wrong with me? I can’t just… Tears of shame and anger sting the corners of my eyes and I try to keep them at bay. What does it even matter if I manage that or not, I’m alone and no one is here to judge me. And the tears start falling. Why did I let him bathe with me? I should’ve known that I can’t control my anger with him. [[“Hati? What’s wrong?”|niall cry (post marcus)]]

I’m not sure what happened. But I’m sure I shouldn’t start pondering on it too much. I should just focus on washing myself. That’s what I’m here for. Marcus was just a distraction. [[“Hati? Is something wrong?”|niall nocry (post marcus)]]

I drink in the sight of his face, his vulnerability. His gaze is clouded with pleasure as he looks at me. His eyes beg me to continue. [[I’m nothing but merciful and grant him his release.]] [[No, I won’t give him what he wants.]] [[Make him beg for it.]]

The thought of leaving him hanging crosses my mind. It would be a suitable revenge. But, a part of me wants to see how he looks when he comes. How he looks when he’s completely vulnerable. So, I give him a small wicked smile and continue. He sighs in clear relief as his breathing quickens. He squeezes my shoulder and grunts. His dark wet hair barely hangs over his hazy gaze as he looks at me. Then, a low, husky moan as he leans toward me, trying to get even closer to me. He pumps his seed into the pool. Then, silence. There’s only the steadying, laborious breathing of his. His naked body is almost buried in my embrace. [[Move his hair off his face.]] [[Move away from him.]]

Why would I give him anything he wants? He deserves only misery. “So you want me to continue?” I ask. He gives me a quick nod and thrusts his hips in need. Good. I stop. He frowns as he looks at my immobile hand. Then, the realization hits him. “Don’t tell me you’re going to leave me–” “You can finish yourself later. You can even think about me, I’ll allow it.” His mouth is slightly open as he looks at me. Defeat and disbelief paint the whole of his face as he clenches his jaw. “You win this round.” Despite the look on his face, there's a little smile lingering on his lips. “Hm.” I smile, too. “Well, now that you've left my balls blue, I think it’s high time to leave. Will have to finish myself." He gets off the pool and I try not to look at his bare ass as he does so. He turns to give me a little wink. "I promise to think of you.” "Yes, yes, just leave already." He chuckles at his own idiocy and leaves. And I'm left to brew in my life decisions.

“So you want me to continue, huh?” He groans as an answer. “I can’t hear you.” I slow down, almost stopping altogether. It makes him frown. “Keep going,” he moans in frustration. “Say please.” He bites his lip and hesitates. I give his cock a firm squeeze and look at him shiver. “Fuck, fine.” He looks me into my eyes and begs: “Please.” A surge of victory and pleasure washes over me. [["Since you asked...|I’m nothing but merciful and grant him his release.]] [[No.]]

I stop. He frowns as he looks at my immobile hand. Then, the realization hits him. “Don’t tell me you’re going to leave me–” “You can finish yourself later. You can even think about me, I’ll allow it.” His mouth is slightly open as he looks at me in defeat. He clenches his jaw before giving me a firm nod. “I shouldn’t have expected anything else.” There’s a little smile lingering on his lips. “Hm.” I smile, too. He stands up and does nothing to hide his erection. “Well, now that you've left my balls blue, I think it’s high time to leave. Will have to finish myself." He gets off the pool and I try not to look at his bare ass as he does so. He turns to give me a little wink. "I promise to think of you.” "Yes, yes, just leave already." He chuckles at his own idiocy and leaves. And I'm left to brew in my life decisions. [[Continue|Back at the barracks.]]

Without a thought, I brush his hair aside only to meet his cooling gaze. His body startles as my fingers graze his skin. He blinks at me. I blink at him. And both of us move away from each other. “Well,” he starts. “Thanks for that.” [[He looks at the bath water.]]

Without missing a beat, I move away from the heat of his body. His gaze follows me, still a little hazy. And I look at him, unsure what to say. What can I say? I didn’t exactly plan for this. [[He looks at the bath water.]]

“The water’s not hot enough," he says. “What?” He points at his seed. “Doesn’t float.” I stare blankly at the water. A… A semen joke? [[Ignore him. Ignore his jokes.]] [[Question my life decisions.]] [[“You’re an idiot.” Try not to laugh.]] [[Laugh.]]

I’m not going to even give him an answer. He gives me a small grin. “You’re so serious.” [[“Let’s not talk about this. Ever.”]] [[“I’m sorry. For doing that.”]]

What have I done? Why am I here? Why did that happen? Why him? Why me? Why– “Hey,” Marcus says. “It was supposed to lighten the mood a little.” “Didn’t work.” “Do you need another joke?” “No. No, I do not. No more jokes.” “You’re no fun.” He pouts, and a smile rings through his words. [[“Let’s not talk about this. Ever.”]] [[“I’m sorry. For doing that.”]]

Laughter rings in my words even as I try to stifle it. The situation is too ridiculous. He is too ridiculous. “Come on. It was funny.” I shake my head and bury my face in my hands to hide my amusement. Then, I try to calm my tumultuous mind. [[“Let’s not talk about this. Ever.”]] [[“I’m sorry. For doing that.”]]

And I laugh. I can’t help but laugh. I laugh at the absurdity of this situation, at him, at his stupid joke. And he laughs with me. Our laughter rings loudly in the pool room. Finally, little by little, the laughter dies. In the end, we look at each other. “Well,” he breaks the silence. “That happened.” I nod. It did. “I should probably leave.” Another nod. “Before I go… Thank you for your service. It was an absolute–” “Just leave, Marcus.” “Right, right.” He chuckles. But, before leaving, he gives me a quick wink and a nasty grin to accompany it. Great. Now he thinks he can wink at me. What have I done? I'm left to brew in my life decisions. And his seed. Great. [[Continue|Back at the barracks.]]

“So, you’re saying you won’t give me another massage in the future?” “Yes. I’m saying exactly that.” “But I enjoyed myself…” “No.” “I can always savor this memory.” I throw a dirty look at him and he just smiles. [["Well, anyway," he says and starts to stand up.]]

“I’m sorry for doing that.” “For giving me an orgasm?” “No, for… assaulting you like that.” “Oh?” He tilts his head. “I don’t mind if it's you. But I appreciate that. Thank you.” [["Well, anyway," he says and starts to stand up.]]

“You’ve been an absolute delight but I need to go. I’m an important man, after all.” I stifle the urge to roll my eyes. “Indeed. But you have a wonderful rest of the bath. And…” He bends down to meet my gaze. A dirty little grin pervades his features. “If you finish yourself, you're welcome to think about me. I'll allow it.” [[Splash water at him.]] [[Roll my eyes. “Just leave already.”]] [[Remain silent and wait for him to leave.|leave marcus leave]] [[Groan.]]

He laughs and flees the pool. But, before leaving, he gives me a quick wink and a nasty grin to accompany it. Great. Now he thinks he can wink at me. What have I done? I'm left to brew in my life decisions. And his seed. [[Continue|Back at the barracks.]]

“Fine, fine. You’re in such a hurry that you can’t even contain yourself.” Give him a murderous stare. He laughs and leaves the pool. But, before leaving, he gives me a quick wink and a nasty grin to accompany it. Great. Now he thinks he can wink at me. What have I done? I'm left to brew in my life decisions. And his seed. [[Continue|Back at the barracks.]]

He laughs at his own joke and leaves the pool. But, before leaving, he gives me a quick wink and a nasty grin to accompany it. Great. Now he thinks he can wink at me. What have I done? I'm left to brew in my life decisions. And his seed. [[Continue|Back at the barracks.]]

“Is that the sound you will make?” “That’s the sound I make when you act like a fool.” “My bad, then.” He laughs and leaves the pool. But, before leaving, he gives me a quick wink and a nasty grin to accompany it. Great. Now he thinks he can wink at me. What have I done? I'm left to brew in my life decisions. And his seed. [[Continue|Back at the barracks.]]

“But of course, Master. I’ve been informed of your poor state of hygiene.” “You’ve wha–” [["Please, follow me."|c6_paios_follow]]

I quickly let go of him with a tinge of disappointment. Is he pushing me away or is he just really awkward? “No, I just… Thought that I should tell you if it was a mistake.” “Maybe it was.” “I… I’m sorry if I made you feel that way.” He rakes his hair with his fingers and looks away. “I think I should go. It’s been a long day for you.” He gives me a smile. “Don’t worry about anything, alright? Everything is fine.” “Fine?” He probably means between him and I. “Sure.” “If you need any oils, there are some on the shelf there.” He points at a shelf brimming with different-sized and colored flasks. “Anyway… Ring the bell if you need anything.” He gives me one last smile before leaving. His step is hurried and he almost crashes into a statue of Faunus on the way. With a deep sigh, I retreat back to the pool and sit down. Finally I’m alone. [[Continue|Back at the barracks.]]

“Show some respect for your superior officers.” No one insults Niall except for me. The man flinches. “Right, sorry. Didn’t know you have a soft spot for the man.” Of course I don’t. With a scoff, I start walking towards the villa. [[Continue|marcus_bath1]]

He’s old. Older than my father. He’s not bad to look at but… Before I can ponder on the thought further, Paios stops me: “Please, it’s nothing of the sort. I just wanted to know what you think of my Lord.” “Oh… Alright.” That makes more sense.

“But of course, my Lord, that’s only sensible. I just wanted to know what you think of my Lord.” [[]]

“But of course.” Paios nods without a trace of irritation. “Excuse me, Master. I am most certainly preventing you from having your bath. My sincerest apologies. Please let me know if there’s anything else you need.”

How would you describe your appearance? [[Pretty.]] [[Beautiful.]] [[Handsome.]] [[Rugged.]] [[Plain.]]

\<<set $niall_bath to true>> Awkward silence lingers as Niall evidently tries to decide what to do with the information he just received. He gives me a hesitant look, his gaze grazing my chest that’s underneath the water. [[I don't know how to tell him.|c6_n_longstory]] [[Boldly rise from the water to show him my chest.]]

“It’s a long story…” He sits down next to me with a worried crease on his forehead. “I have time.” His palm almost lands on my shoulder but when I flinch, he quickly retreats. “I’m sorry. Take your time.” \<<if (($sex is "female") and ($cis isnot true))>> “Well, I have a pair of breasts and I would be killed on sight if fellow soldiers saw me naked.” There’s a long pause. Finally, he says with eloquence, “Huh?” I gesture at my chest without rising from the water. “Breasts.” Another long, long pause as he tries to make sense of my words. “You have breasts?” he asks. “Yes. Breasts.” “So you’re a woman?” “No, I’m not. But others would most certainly think so and kill me.” “I… see.” He nods slowly and I’m still unsure if he truly sees what I’m saying. “So… You would be killed if you were found out.” “Indeed.” “I see.” “Yes.” Another long moment of silence. It’s comfortable in some weird way. At least he’s not freaking out about this. He’s just silently processing the information, giving me time to start washing. In blissful silence. “Is there something you want to say about it?” I ask. “Oh. Well. I suppose my mind broke a little,” he admits. [["Is there that much to break in there?"|c6_n_meaniehati]] [["I understand."|c6_n_understand]] \<<elseif (($sex is "female") and ($cis is true))>> “Well, I have a pair of breasts and I would be killed on sight if fellow soldiers saw me naked.” There’s a long pause. Finally, he says with eloquence, “Huh?” I gesture at my chest without rising from the water. “Breasts.” Another long, long pause as he tries to make sense of my words. “You have breasts?” he asks. “Yes. Breasts.” “So you’re a woman?” “Indeed, my dear friend. I’m a woman with a pair of breasts.” “I… see.” He nods slowly and I’m still unsure if he truly sees what I’m saying. “So… You would be killed if you were found out.” “Indeed.” “I see.” “Yes.” Another long moment of silence. It’s comfortable in some weird way. At least he’s not freaking out about this. He’s just silently processing the information, giving me time to start washing. In blissful silence. “Is there something you want to say about it?” I ask. “Oh. Well. I suppose my mind broke a little,” he admits. [["Is there that much to break in there?"|c6_n_meaniehati]] [["I understand."|c6_n_understand]] \<<elseif $sex is "male">> I rise from the waters just enough for him to see the tattoo. The confusion distorting his face doesn’t let go as he inspects the marking of my gods. “What is that? Why does it look so familiar?” “Probably because you Romans invaded my land and killed my people,” I say in a dry tone. I just want to get this over with. His eyes widen with realization. “Caledonia? The mark of the druids,” he whispers as he looks at it. “I… I’ve seen the tattoo. I should’ve realized.” “Seen it? Where?” On a prisoner? “Someone skinned a druid’s tattoo and treated it as a lucky charm. The tattoo had two birds in it. Just like yours.” “Who skinned the druid?” I ask, my voice building up ire. His eyes widen. “I… It doesn’t matter.” "It doesn't matter that there’s someone in the fort right now, parading about with the piece of skin of my friend?" “I’m sorry, I shouldn’t have said anything. I’m so sorry, I… I don’t know what to say. I– You–” An incoherent string of words leaves Niall’s mouth as he’s trying to rectify the situation. I breathe in deeply. He wasn’t there. He didn’t kill them. [[He’s just an idiot.|c6_n_anidiot1]] [[Calm down. What happened wasn't his fault.|c6_n_triedhisbest1]] <</if>>\

He starts, “I’m sorry, it’s none of my–” Before he can finish his thought, I’m already rising up from the waters like a brazen kelpie, splashing the water without fear. He’s visibly confused, not sure where to look, how to act. \<<if (($sex is "female") and ($cis isnot true))>> Finally, he focuses on the bindings on my chest. It takes him a good while to process what he sees. Then, when the realization hits him, it looks like it slammed him like a wagon. “You have breasts!” he shouts in sheer horror. Then, he looks around as if to check if someone heard him. There’s only silence that answers his declaration. I grimace at his words. The reaction was to be expected but it doesn’t make it any less off putting. “Yes, I have them. Yes, I’ve been hiding them,” I say, my voice stable and tired. “But it’s not that simple. Let’s leave it at that, alright? For now.” At least the revelation is out of the way now. I suppose it was my fault for making it so flashy. He’s confused, flustered, afraid. All of that and more is clear from his face. Finally, with a frown, he says, “But they will kill you if they find out.” “Yes, that part is simple,” I say with a sigh as I sit down. Then, there’s only silence. He stands his ground, unmoving like a statue of Hercules. [["This is a difficult moment for me. Could you say something?"]] \<<elseif (($sex is "female") and ($cis is true))>> Finally, he focuses on the bindings on my chest. It takes him a good while to process what he sees. Then, when the realization hits him, it looks like it slammed him like a wagon. “You have breasts!” he shouts in sheer horror. Then, he looks around as if to check if someone heard him. There’s only silence that answers his declaration. “Indeed, I have breasts,” I say with a small smile. At least I don’t have to hide them anymore from him. He’s confused, flustered, afraid. All of that and more is clear from his face. Finally, with a frown, he says, “But they will kill you if they find out.” “Indeed,” I say with a sigh as I sit down. Then, there’s only silence. He stands his ground, unmoving like a statue of Hercules. “Is there something you want to say about it?” I ask. “Oh. Well. I suppose my mind broke a little,” he admits. [["Is there that much to break in there?"|c6_n_meaniehati]] [["I understand."|c6_n_understand]] \<<elseif $sex is "male">> His gaze briefly grazes my hips before they finally focus on the tattoo. The confusion distorting his face doesn’t let go as he inspects the marking of my gods. “What is that? Why does it look so familiar?” “Probably because you Romans invaded my land and killed my people,” I say in a dry tone. His eyes widen with realization. “Caledonia? The mark of the druids,” he whispers as he looks at it. “I… I’ve seen the tattoo. I should’ve realized.” “Seen it? Where?” On a prisoner? “Someone skinned a druid’s tattoo and treated it as a lucky charm. The tattoo had two birds in it. Just like yours.” “Who skinned the druid?” I ask, my voice building up ire. His eyes widen. “I… It doesn’t matter.” "It doesn't matter that there’s someone in the fort right now, parading about with the piece of skin of my friend?" “I’m sorry, I shouldn’t have said anything. I’m so sorry, I… I don’t know what to say. I– You–” An incoherent string of words leaves Niall’s mouth as he’s trying to rectify the situation. I breathe in deeply. He wasn’t there. He didn’t kill them. [[He’s just an idiot.|c6_n_anidiot1]] [[Calm down. What happened wasn't his fault.|c6_n_triedhisbest1]] <</if>>\

He’s just an idiot who infected me with a mental image I’d rather have lived without, the image of the cut out skin lingers in the front of my head. “I’m so sorry. I’m an idiot,” he says with a blush of shame lingering on his cheeks. At least he knows it. I give him a little nod, a subtle yes, you are’ after sighing. The most important thing is that Niall knows now and I don’t have to rely on Marcus’s ‘help’ alone. That’s a relief. I suppose. He sighs, too, the sound exposing his own state of fatigue. He gives me a hesitant glance. “But… Why are you here? You could be killed at any moment.” Killed, yes. Would my tattoo be skinned, too? "Let's talk about that later," I say. "I just want to wash." "Oh, of course!" He purses his lips, still clearly ashamed over how the conversation went. "I don’t know why I… said things like that. I’m sorry. I… My brain didn't work. Too much information.” I wave his apologies off. [[Continue|c6_n_joinbath?]]

Sure, he infected me with a mental image I’d rather have lived without, the image of the cut out skin lingers in the front of my head, but it wasn’t intentional. “I’m so sorry. I’m an idiot,” he says again. I shake my head wearily. “What happened wasn’t your fault,” I repeat the sentiment to ground myself. It truly wasn’t. He didn’t skin anyone. He didn’t take part in anything. He knows now who I am. Maybe it’s a relief. Now I don’t have to rely on Marcus’s ‘help’ alone. He doesn’t answer but he looks drained by his emotions running wild. Instead, he asks, “Why are you here? You could be killed at any moment.” Killed, yes. Would my tattoo be skinned, too? “Not now,” I say. “I haven’t had a bath in weeks.” “Oh! Of course, by all means! We can talk about it later.” Maybe we will. But what will he do in the meantime? [[Continue|c6_n_joinbath?]]

“I… I’m sorry,” he says. “I think my mind broke a little.” [["Is there that much to break in there?"|c6_n_meaniehati]] [["I understand."|c6_n_understand]]

He shakes his head. “You’re too kind. I don’t know why I… shouted like that. I’m sorry. I…” “It’s a lot to take in.” [[Continue|c6_n_alsodruid]]

He gives me a hurt pout. “Don’t be mean. I just learned you could be murdered at any given moment.” “Sorry,” I say, not sure if I really mean it. He lets out a weary sigh. “Alright, so… Alright.” I nod. He rubs the back of his neck, his gaze graciously avoiding my chest. “You said that there’s more to it? What did you mean?” “We can talk about it more when my bindings don’t torture my skin.” His eyes widen. “Oh my gods! Here I am, prolonging your suffering.” [[Continue|c6_n_alsodruid]]

Niall stands still, unsure how to proceed with the situation. He looks like he wants to sit down but doesn’t know if he should. He looks like he’s unsure if he should leave. He looks at the water, too, probably wondering if he should join the bath. Then, he looks away as if the very thought is preposterous. [[“You can join the bath if you want to…” The thought is awkward.|c6_n_awkwardbath]] [[“You can join the bath if you want to…” My tone is a little flirty and a little awkward.|c6_n_awkwardflirt]] [[“Now, you should get naked and join me.” My tone is bold and flirty.|c6_n_boldflirt]] [[“Now that you know, you might as well join the bath.” My voice is neutral.|c6_n_neutralbath]]

The thought of him naked in the pool with me is both unnerving and exciting. And he sees my hesitation. Probably because he’s so hesitant himself. “Are you quite sure?” he asks. “No?” “I can leave,” he offers, taking a step towards the door, ready to flee. “Uh, no. You don’t have to if you don’t want to. I mean, I’m sure that I’d like to bathe with you,” I force the confession out of me to stop him from escaping the room. He would do it in a heartbeat. “I, uh, alright. I’m willing to do that,” he says with a hesitant smile. “I will have to get naked.” “As expected,” I say and try to stop the heat from rising to my cheeks. “Yes,” he admits that it is so and tries to hide his own flush. Here we are, two fools blushing over nothing. “Just get into the pool,” I wheeze. "Yes!" He puts his hands on his tunic’s hem before hesitating. He looks at me. “Could you, you know, look away? Maybe?” [["Of course." Don't look.]] [["No." I smile.|c6_n_awkwardsmile]]

He clears his throat and looks at the door. Is he planning on his escape? “Or are you needed elsewhere?” I ask. His shoulders deflate in defeat. “No, I’m not.” I smile victoriously. “So…?” He gives me a quick glance. There’s a glimmer of interest but also a layer of hesitation. “Fine,” he says. “You don’t have to if you don’t want to…,” I say playfully. “No, no, I do want to. I want to bathe with you,” he forces the confession out of him and it makes me smile. He puts his hands on his tunic’s hem before hesitating. “Could you, you know, look away? Maybe?” [["Of course." Don't look.]] [["No." I smile.|c6_n_boldsmile]]

It seems that he’s not going to leave any time soon after he learned the truth. It would feel awkward to watch him standing there fully clothed while I’m soaking here naked. “Uh, you’re sure?” “I wouldn’t have asked if I wasn’t,” I say in a dry tone. The fact that I don’t make a big deal out of this seems to calm him down. He gives me a hesitant smile. “Right, of course.” He puts his hands on his tunic’s hem before hesitating. “Could you, you know, look away? Maybe?” [["Of course." Don't look.]]

It feels awkward that he’s there fully clothed while I’m naked here. However, the thought of him entering the pool naked feels even more awkward. And he seems to share the sentiment, since he gives me a quick lookover. “Are you quite sure? I’d have to get naked.” “You can’t keep your tunic on?” “I’m sorry,” he says with a regretful frown. “The cloth would be ruined. It’s my favorite.” He is wearing a nice, green tunic with little floral embroidery on the hem. “But don’t you have other clothes?” “I… I do. Yes. Should I fetch them?” What am I doing? I’m used to naked people. Why does he make me so nervous? It’s ridiculous. “No. Just take your clothes off,” I say while accidentally sounding too commanding. He gives me a quick, obedient nod and takes his tunic off in a flash. [[Turn away!|c6_n_turnaway!]]

The water splashes as he gets in. His face is completely red when I turn to look at him. “I’m sorry,” he mutters. “I’m not usually like this.” “Like… what?" “Like this. I need you to know that I’m usually more confident.” I look at him in confusion. He shakes his head. “Never mind.” [[Continue|c6_n_pool]]

And here he is, fully naked on display. His hands shield his private parts as he tries to act nonchalant about the whole ordeal. But when his face never ceases to be red, he mutters, “This is ridiculous." “What is?" “How… I am. I need you to know that I’m usually more confident.” [[“Uh-huh, whatever you say.” I don’t believe him.|c6_n_dontbelieve]] [["What do you mean?"|c6_n_watdoyoumean?]] [["Just get into the pool."|c6_n_justgetin]]

And he pouts angrily at my response. “I’m serious. I lead armies!” [[He's so cute..|c6_n_pinch]] [["You indeed lead armies. Armies that murder innocents."]] [["Whatever you say."|c6_n_whatever]]

He shakes his head. “Never mind.” I give him a questioning frown but he ignores it, instead opting to slip into the pool as quickly as possible. He shields himself from my view and looks away. He looks extremely uncomfortable. “Do you want me to look away?” I ask. “No, it’s fine. I’m just… Don’t worry about it.” He gives me a quick smile but it’s clear that it’s a fake one, meant to appease me. “Are you sure?” “Yes. Don’t worry.” Something to fish out of him later, perhaps? [[Continue|c6_n_pool]]

My tone is light but my words are accusing. He flinches at the sound of it. “I… That wasn’t the–” “Point? But it’s the reality.” He sighs. “I’m sorry. Let’s just bathe in silence for a moment, alright?” “Fine by me.” [[Continue|c6_n_pool]]

Now that he’s in the pool, I let out a sigh of relief. Finally, I can continue to wash. It's why I'm here, after all. \<<if $sex is "female">> The bindings are still on me. Dirty, itchy, causing me pain. I want to get them off. [[Take them off without hesitation. He already knows.|c6_n_niallknows]] [[Hesitate.|c6_n_hesitate]] \<<elseif $sex is "male">> “If I had known that you can’t bathe in peace, I would’ve offered the bath sooner,” he says, his tone regretful. “It’s fine,” I say. “I thought that you preferred the musky scent lingering around you.” “You mean my smelly sweat?” “Musky scent,” he repeats with a smile. He gives my naked skin a shy look before his gaze darts away. It’s not necessarily a dirty look, more like an intrigued one. [["You can look."|c6_n_canlook]] [[Pose seductively as I wash.|c6_n_seduce]] [[Wash my biceps while flexing.|c6_n_flex]] [[Shift uncomfortably.|c6_n_uncomfort]] [[Ignore it.|c6_n_ignoreit]] <</if>>\

I sigh and start peeling the bindings off. It hurts, I haven’t had the chance to change them in a good while. I try to keep them as clean as I can but there have been more sentries lurking along the riverbed recently. Finally, my skin is free. I take a deep breath and smile, the feeling of freedom without the bindings obstructing my breathing is exhilarating. The skin itches and aches but I’m so glad to be rid of the dirty wrappings. When I look at Niall, his gaze is on me. But it’s filled with sympathy. “That looks so painful.” He grimaces at the sight of my skin. “It is,” I admit. “If I had known, I would’ve offered the bath sooner,” he says, his tone regretful and pained. “It’s fine,” I wave his concern off but it does little to ease his regrets. “I mean it. If I had known–” “Niall. You didn’t know.” "But–" "It's fine," I say again and, with a reluctant nod, he shuts his mouth. I start washing. He gives my naked skin a shy look before his gaze darts away. It’s not necessarily a dirty look, more like an intrigued one. [[Make a show of washing my breasts. Take his mind off things.|c6_n_breastwash]] [["You can look."|c6_n_canlook]] [[Pose seductively as I wash.|c6_n_seduce]] [[Wash my biceps while flexing.|c6_n_flex]] [[Shift uncomfortably.|c6_n_uncomfort]] [[Ignore it.|c6_n_ignoreit]]

I look at him and the air traps in my throat. \<<if (($sex is "female") and ($cis isnot true))>> [[I don't want to show my breasts to anyone ever.|c6_n_noskinever][$dysphoria_breasts to true]] [[I just don't like to show my skin to strangers.|c6_n_noskin]] \<<elseif (($sex is "female") and ($cis is true))>> [[I just don't like to show my skin to strangers.|c6_n_noskin]] <</if>>

I don’t particularly mind his gaze on me but it’s not important right now. I keep washing as the weeks worth of dirt finally leave my skin. “Must feel good,” he says. “Better.” I sigh. [["Want to spread that on me, too?" I blurt out.|c6_n_blurtout]] [["Want to spread that on me, too?" I ask, trying to appear nonchalant about it.|c6_n_nonchalanthelp]] [["Can I have some of that?" I will spread it on myself.|c6_n_myself]]

“I’m sor–,” he starts when he sees my discomfort. “You don’t need to apologize,” I say quickly. “I’m just…” I wave my hand. “Don’t worry about it.” He exhales in relief. “Thank you.” Absent-mindedly, he opens a jar of oil and starts rubbing his skin with it. The oil looks like something my skin would benefit from, too. [["Want to spread that on me, too?" I blurt out.|c6_n_blurtout]] [["Want to spread that on me, too?" I ask, trying to appear nonchalant about it.|c6_n_nonchalanthelp]] [["Can I have some of that?" I will spread it on myself.|c6_n_myself]]

He clears his throat at my blessing. “I wasn’t looking.” “Don’t lie, Tribune, it’s not a good look.” “I…,” he starts before deciding against it. “Fine. I looked. But only because your skin is… pretty.” I tilt my head at him. “I mean, it looks like the most expensive clay. It’s smooth and–” He clears his throat. “That sounded better in my head.” “Thank you,” I say. “I haven’t seen many battles.” \<<if $scar is true>> “Only that one battle with the bear,” he says, pointing at my face. “That bear ruined my perfect clay thing I had going on, yes,” I joke and the tattoo on my chest itches in response. "That bastard." He smiles and the awkwardness dissipates with the lightheartedness. \<<else>> “Me neither,” he admits. And it’s easy to see. His skin is smooth like marble. He gives me a shy smile when he notices that I’m looking. “I’ve heard that people find scars attractive,” he says. “Are you planning on giving yourself one with a kitchen knife or something? To appease the ladies? Or the gents?” He bursts out laughing at the addition of the gentlemen. “Yes, the refined gentlemen littering the fort, that’s exactly what I was thinking.” He smiles and the awkwardness dissipates with the lightheartedness. <</if>>\ With a small smile, I keep washing myself as the weeks worth of dirt finally leave my skin. “Must feel good,” he says. “Better than good.” I sigh. Absent-mindedly, he opens a jar of oil and starts rubbing his skin with it. The oil looks like something my skin would benefit from, too. [["Want to spread that on me, too?" I ask with a smirk.|c6_n_helpsmirk?]] [["Want to spread that on me, too?" I ask, trying to appear nonchalant about it.|c6_n_nonchalanthelp]] [["Want to spread that on me, too?" I blurt out.|c6_n_blurtout]] [["Can I have some of that?" I will spread it on myself.|c6_n_myself]]

I look at him over my shoulder and give him a little sneaky smile. He clears his throat and looks away. But his gaze can’t stay away from me for too long for it returns to devour me as he slowly swallows, making his throat move with agony. I bite my lip and wash slowly, taking my time, all the while holding an eye contact. “I, uh–,” he starts but evidently doesn’t know how to finish the sentence. Finally, after clearing his throat again, he says, “Must feel nice. To… to bathe, I mean.” “It feels so so nice,” I say, accentuating the words. They make him rake his hair in distress. [["Sorry, I'll stop."|c6_n_niallstop]]

I apologize with laughter in my voice. “You’re so easily rattled, I can’t help it.” He pouts with a smile. “You’re evil, did you know that?” “Yes. I’m fully aware. And you like it.” “No, I refuse to admit it.” A smile stretches his lips as the redness still lingers in his cheeks. Then, he says in the smallest of voices, “Maybe.” Absent-mindedly, he opens a jar of oil and starts rubbing his skin with it. The oil looks like something my skin would benefit from, too. [["Want to spread that on me, too?" I ask with a smirk.|c6_n_helpsmirk?]] [["Want to spread that on me, too?" I ask, trying to appear nonchalant about it.|c6_n_nonchalanthelp]] [["Can I have some of that?" I will spread it on myself.|c6_n_myself]]

It seems like something he's been holding back this whole time. Something he needs to know. “Marcus knew? About you?” he asks despite knowing the answer. “He knew. He knew from the moment he saw me.” That much seems certain. He nods, slowly, deep in thought. He squeezes his fists tight, focusing on them. “You were in constant danger. And Marcus knew.” Anger starts slowly seeping into his words, the muscles in his frame start to tense up. [[Try to calm him down.|c6_n_calmdown]] [[Defend Marcus.|c6_n_defendmarcus]] [[Feed the flames!|c6_n_flameswhoo]]

I give him a bold smirk, one that I fully know will fluster the poor man. And, to no one’s surprise, he flushes red at the question. He opens his mouth like a fish on dry land. “Help? To… wash you?” “Yes.” “Can’t you do it yourself?” “I can’t reach my back," I say innocently. He sighs. “I suppose that’s true.” Another sigh, deeper than the last. “Fine. I’ll do it.” “Good boy.” He clears his throat at the compliment. Before I can tease him further, he already grabs me by my shoulders and turns my back to face him. His touch is surprisingly firm and there’s a sense of detachment to it. Like he’s done this a thousand times before. \<<if $sex is "female">> [[I brace myself for him touching my aching skin.]] \<<elseif $sex is "male">> [[Continue|c6_m_malewash]] <</if>>\

He opens his mouth like a fish on dry land. “Help? To… wash you?” “I mean, you don’t want to if you need– I mean you don’t need to if you don’t want to!” Despite the state of his embarrassment, my words make him smile. Then, he starts to laugh. I pout at the sound with a little smile forming on my face. “Rude.” “You’re silly.” “Look who’s talking!” “Two silly barbarians bathing,” he says with a chuckle. I start laughing with him and the tension leaves with it. “Fine, I’ll wash you,” he says, encouraged by our banter. Before I can question his sudden declaration, he already grabs me by my shoulders and turns my back to face him. His touch is surprisingly firm and there’s a sense of detachment to it. Like he’s done this a thousand times before. \<<if $sex is "female">> [[I brace myself for him touching my aching skin.]] \<<elseif $sex is "male">> [[Continue|c6_m_malewash]] <</if>>\

I try to ignore the pounding of my heart as the words leave my lips. He opens his mouth like a fish on dry land. “Help? To… wash you?” “Yes.” After a moment of silence, he conjures up a practiced smile. “Of course.” ‘Really?,’ I almost ask but manage to hold my peace. His newfound confidence might crumble if I questioned him further. Then, as if the matter is resolved, he grabs me by my shoulders and turns my back to face him. His touch is surprisingly firm and there’s a sense of detachment to it. Like he’s done this a thousand times before. \<<if $sex is "female">> [[I brace myself for him touching my aching skin.]] \<<elseif $sex is "male">> [[Continue|c6_m_malewash]] <</if>>

He tenses up. And right after he seemingly curses at his telltale reaction. “It doesn’t bother me,” he lies. It’s obvious. “I’m sorry if I’ve made you feel that way. I try not to think about this too much.” “But why?” He rubs the back of his neck, unsure what to say. “You know… soldiers shouldn’t… think about those things about their comrades. They don't take kindly to that.” [[“We’re just two brothers in arms taking a bath, right?” Even if maybe I want more.]] [["But aren't you the Tribune? Can't you do whatever you want?"]] [[Grin. "What things are you thinking about, exactly?"]] [["I see."|c6_n_isee2]]

He laughs. “Exactly, nothing sinister going on here. Just two friends bathing.” His gaze darkens. “I just don’t want anything bad to happen to you.” “They already have so many reasons to kill me, add it to the pile.” He chuckles. “That doesn’t make me feel better at all!” “You shouldn't care about that." The smile on his face quickly vanishes as he gives me a disappointed frown. “Of course I care." He reaches for me before retreating his hand. "Every time I think about you, the next image is you with your head in a pike, or flogged half to death.” “I–” “They’d kill you. And I’m not willing to take that risk. And I… Can’t forgive Marcus for taking it.” “He hasn’t–” “He’s roused suspicion already. People are talking about you, spreading nasty rumors.” He doesn’t ask how long his brother knew of me. Maybe he’s not ready to hear that. The seriousness of his tone makes me shift uncomfortably. Does he truly see my future? Or is he just anxious about it? He sighs, shaking his head. “I’m sorry. I didn’t mean to bring down the atmosphere. I’m just… Let’s talk about something else, alright?” [[Continue|c6_n_quinn]]

“Yes. But what about you? What if they do something to you? What if they make an example out of you?” He shifts uncomfortably. “They already have so many reasons to kill me, add it to the pile.” He chuckles. “That doesn’t make me feel better at all!” “You shouldn't care about that." The smile on his face quickly vanishes as he gives me a disappointed frown. “Of course I care." He reaches for me before retreating his hand. "Every time I think about you, the next image is you with your head in a pike, or flogged half to death.” “I–” “They’d kill you. And I’m not willing to take that risk. And I… Can’t forgive Marcus for taking it.” “He hasn’t–” “He’s roused suspicion already. People are talking about you, spreading nasty rumors.” He doesn’t ask how long his brother knew of me. Maybe he’s not ready to hear that. The seriousness of his tone makes me shift uncomfortably. Does he truly see my future? Or is he just anxious about it? He sighs, shaking his head. “I’m sorry. I didn’t mean to bring down the atmosphere. I’m just… Let’s talk about something else, alright?” [[Continue|c6_n_quinn]]

He doesn’t take the bait. Instead, he looks at me with pain in his gaze. “I’m thinking about you. When I shouldn’t. You are already in danger and I’d just make it worse.” “You shouldn’t care about that.” “Of course I care. Every time I think about you, the next image is you with your head in a pike, or flogged half to death.” “I–” “They’d kill you. And I’m not willing to take that risk. And I… Can’t forgive Marcus for taking it.” “He hasn’t–” “He’s roused suspicion already. People are talking about you, spreading nasty rumors.” He doesn’t ask how long his brother knew of me. Maybe he’s not ready to hear that. The seriousness of his tone makes me shift uncomfortably. Does he truly see my future? Or is he just anxious about it? He sighs, shaking his head. “I’m sorry. I didn’t mean to bring down the atmosphere. I’m just… Let’s talk about something else, alright?” [[Continue|c6_n_quinn]]

“Niall, it’s fine.” “Fine?!” he spits the word back at my face with spite. When I flinch at the intensity of his emotions, he blinks. He shakes his head, rubs his arms, trying to calm down. “I’m sorry, I’m not mad at you. I should–” “You should what?” “I should beat Marcus up later. But don’t you worry about it. This is not the time. You’re telling me something important and I’m making it about me. So…” He takes a deep breath and focuses his intense gaze at me. “You came here disguised.” [["Why?" he asks.|c6_n_why?]]

“I chose to come here and it was Marcus who saved my life a couple of times. I find myself defending Marcus, only the Twins know why. Niall’s burning gaze darts to me and I almost flinch at the sight. His anger has blossomed into pure contempt. “So your life was in danger ‘a couple of times’?” “Well, yes…” There’s no denying that but the strength of Niall’s response catches me off guard. Seeing my reaction makes him shake his head, rub his arms, and take a deep breath. “I will deal with this later. But you… “Alright,” he says, trying to gather his thoughts. “You came here disguised.” [["Why?" he asks.|c6_n_why?]]

“He knew. And he’s played it off like it’s nothing. He’s played with my life like it’s nothing.” Anger flares up in Niall’s eyes. Even if the words I say are true, seeing his eyes like this makes me realize something: He believes everything I say, every bit of information I feed him with. “Of course he did,” he snarls through his bared teeth. “He’s always been like that. Always treating the lives of others as a mere joke.” He takes a deep, ragged breath. “He’s always been a dick. But this is even worse.” He shakes his head, evidently trying to clear his thoughts. “I will deal with this later. But you… “Alright,” he says, trying to gather his thoughts. “You came here disguised.” [["Why?" he asks.|c6_n_why?]]

“Actually, it was Marcus who drove me here in the first place.” The corner of Niall’s eye twitches. “He–” “It’s a long story. He…” I search for the right words but there are none for what I’m about to tell him. “He killed my father.” Niall shoots up from the pool, anger quickly rushing back to his gaze like a thunder cloud. He breathes heavily, water drips down on his naked body. His whole frame shivers with disgust. “He killed your father and kept you in danger all this time?” He looks ready to pounce after Marcus. [[“Niall, you're scaring me.“|c6_n_yourescaringme]] [[“Niall. Calm down.“|c6_n_calmdown1]] [[“Well, practically he killed everyone.” Recall dryly what happened.]] [["Niall, you're not even clothed. Sit down."]] [["Sit your sexy butt back down."]] [["He deserves to die for what he did."]]

He looks at me, anger distorting his face so that he’s almost unrecognizable. The snarl starts melting away slowly as he processes my words. “Oh. Oh! I’m sorry!” The pitch of his voice gets higher as he slumps back down to the pool with water splashing. He runs his fingers through his wet hair. “I’m truly sorry, I… I’m overreacting. Or am I? Yes? I don’t know. Forgive me.” “Just… calm down, alright?” “Yes, I will. Whatever you want.” He takes a deep breath to calm himself. “I just… This is a lot.” I remain silent, not sure what to add. It is a lot. [[He rubs his face.|c6_n_facerub]]

“Calm down?” The words leave through his bared teeth. He looks at me, anger distorting his face so that he’s almost unrecognizable. The snarl starts melting away slowly as he processes my words. “I… I’m sorry. I don’t want to worry you.” Still speaking through his teeth, he slumps back down with water splashing. He buries his face in his hands. “I’m sorry.” [["It's kind of sexy that you're so angry on my behalf."]] [[Seeing him care about this so much almost warms my heart.]]

His eyes widen at my comment. Then, he looks at his naked, exposed torso, his pelvic area. And as quickly as he got up, he sits down with his face red. “I’m sorry, I forgot, I– [["It's kind of sexy that you're so angry on my behalf."]] [[Seeing him care about this so much almost warms my heart.]] [[Remain silent.|c6_n_silent2]]

I order him playfully. Half-playfully. His eyes widen at my command. Then, he looks at his naked, exposed torso, his pelvic area. And as quickly as he got up, he sits down with his face red. “Now– No– But what about–” “Calm yourself. I’m not in danger right now.” I’m surprisingly calm myself. Perhaps it’s easy to detach myself from what I’m telling him, perhaps he makes it so with his big reactions. [["It's kind of sexy that you're so angry on my behalf."]] [[Seeing him care about this so much almost warms my heart.]]

My words seep of poison as I study him for his reaction. Of course Marcus deserves to die. He was in the front lines, killing my father’s soldiers. He was there when the village was invaded. When mothers and their children were found in their hideouts. And, to Niall’s credit, there’s no immediate pushback from him. He doesn’t agree with the notion, either, which isn’t surprising. He gives me a careful nod. “I understand. I… I understand.” He sits back down, slowly, with control, deep in thought. “I understand you’d feel that way.” I keep studying him to see if there’s any chance he could be convinced to see that Marcus needs to die. And he keeps looking at me, his gaze wary. Then, with a long, tired sigh he falls silent. [[He rubs his face.|c6_n_facerub]]

He unburies his face to give me an abashed look. “Sexy?” “Yes. You were so ready to jump into my defense. It’s sexy and comforting.” He blinks at my words, not sure how to respond. “You’re like my guard dog.” “Woof woof,” he says with fatigue as he rubs his face. “I’m sorry, this is just a lot to take in.” [[He rubs his face.|c6_n_facerub]]

I didn’t think the news would bring out such a reaction. It’s almost weird to see him so angry about this. “It’s fine,” I say, to further calm him. “Really? But–” “It’s fine,” I repeat. “But I think it’s nice that you care.” He frowns. “Of course I care. Who wouldn’t?” “Every other Roman,” I say in a dry tone. “I…” He sighs. “I can see why you’d think that.” [[He rubs his face.|c6_n_facerub]]

Then, he looks at me with such sincerity it almost startles me. “I’m so sorry you’ve had to deal with this alone.” [["I'm not alone. I have Quinn."]] [["It's fine."]] [[Fight back the tears.|c6_n_dontcry]]

I smirk at my words. “He was in the front lines, killing my father’s soldiers. He was there when the village was invaded. When mothers and their children were found in their hideouts. When my colleagues were in the middle of the ritual trying to banish them.” The smirk grows more grim. “They didn’t succeed.” Niall listens to my words without a sound. His face tells me everything he feels, the anger, the grief, the… pity. Seeing it ignites anger within. “Don’t feel pity for me,” I say, barely managing not to snarl at him. “I… I’m sorry.” He shakes his head. “I’m so sorry.” “What difference does it make?” I ask and my voice is tired. “I don’t want to dwell in on this.” I don’t want to think about it. [[He rubs his face.|c6_n_facerub]]

[[He rubs his face.|c6_n_facerub]]

“Quinn? That’s hardly a–” But he doesn’t continue the thought. Instead, he says, “I mean… Yes. You indeed have your friend.” He mutters under his breath, “Weird little friend.” “What was that?” “Nothing. But I hope that me knowing this doesn’t cause you distress. I promise you that I won’t tell a soul about this. I will take this to my grave if I have to. I’m just happy that I know now and I can protect you.” His words, again, ring sincere. When accompanied with the earnest look on his face, it’s difficult not to believe his words. [["I don't need protection."|c6_n_noprotection]] [["Thank you."|c6_n_thanks]] [[Feign helplessness to manipulate him.|c6_n_manipulate]]

“Fine?” He groans. “How is any of this fine?” He takes my hands in his and looks at me with concern. “You don’t have to act brave with me.” “I’m not acting,” I say with anger in my tone. He hears it and lets go of me. “I’m sorry. I didn’t mean to say that you are not brave. You’re the bravest person I know. I just… I’m sorry.” He rakes his wet hair. “It’s fine,” I say with a sigh. What an awkward conversation this turned out to be. I shouldn’t have expected anything else. “You mean well. It’s just a… touchy topic.” An understatement of the year. “Of course. And I do not hold any of your reactions against you. You deserve patience and time. And I will give them to you." I blink at the considerate words. And he just continues, "And I hope that me knowing this doesn’t cause you distress. I promise you that I won’t tell a soul about this. I will take this to my grave if I have to. I’m just happy that I know now and I can protect you.” His words, again, ring sincere. When accompanied with the earnest look on his face, it’s difficult not to believe his words. [["I don't need protection."|c6_n_noprotection]] [["Thank you."|c6_n_thanks]] [[Feign helplessness to manipulate him.|c6_n_manipulate]]

To think that someone would care so much about the things I’ve been through. I’ve felt so alone. I try to fight the tears that threaten to gather to the corners of my eyes. \<<if $fire is true>> I grimace at the tears, try to threaten them to stay away. But it’s in vain, they’re already falling down my cheeks. “Hati,” he starts, ready to grab me into his wet embrace. “Don’t you dare–” But it’s too late. Roughly, seemingly without a thought, he grabs me into his embrace. Before I can process what happens, he already places a gentle kiss on top of my head. “You are not alone,” he whispers against my hair. [[Cry it all out.|c6_n_cryout]] [[Stay put for a while. It’s nice.]] [[Break free from the hug.]] [[Break free from the hug angrily.]] \<<elseif $earth is true>> And with great struggle I succeed, swallowing back the tears triumphantly. “Hati,” Niall says. “You shouldn’t fight your emotions.” “I don’t,” I say in a stern voice, fooling nobody. “Do you need a–” “A hug? No.” He nods but still keeps his strong arms wide enough for me to enter. [[“Fine. Just a small hug.” I reluctantly enter the embrace.]] [[“I said no.”]] \<<elseif $air is true>> I look at nowhere to clear my mind. The beginnings of the teardrops dry out as I stare at the nothingness. “Hati?” “Yes?” I ask, my voice absent. “You look like you need a hug.” I blink and look at him. His arms are wide open as he looks at me with an earnest gaze, inviting me in. [[Enter the embrace without a word.]] [[“No, thank you.”]] \<<elseif $water is true>> Soon enough, I let the emotions win me over. The tears flow freely. “I’ve been so alone,” I whisper. “You’re not alone anymore,” Niall says with a face of determination. Roughly, seemingly without a thought, he grabs me into his naked embrace. Before I can process what happens, he already places a gentle kiss on top of my head. “You are not alone,” he whispers against my hair. [[Cry it all out.|c6_n_cryout]] [[Stay put for a while. It’s nice.]] [[Break free from the hug.]] <</if>>\

He quickly nods. “I know you don’t. You’re strong. But I’m at your corner if you ever need any help. I promise you that.” I purse my lips at his words. I suppose the thought is nice enough. Then, he sighs with his shoulders sagging. “There is something we need to talk about.” I give him a raise of my brow. Something about his tone of voice is curious. He’s serious. [[Continue|c6_n_revengetalk]]

“Have you seen your friend around?” The question is hesitant and coated with ill-concealed worry. \<<if $quinn_angry is true>> “Too many times,” I scoff and he raises his brows. “We’re not on good terms right now,” I explain. “You can tell me.” Something tries to prevent me from speaking. I ignore it. “$q_He’s… pushy. And gets mad at the smallest of things. $q_He hasn’t been the same after what happened.” There’s a knot in my stomach tightening when I talk. //shut up shut up// “Is it about the trauma you’ve both experienced?” he offers, all too kindly. Quinn was so rude to him and still he tries to offer an olive branch. But I shouldn't tell him. I should just say it’s the trauma and move on. He shouldn’t know. He’s an outsider. “Maybe,” I say. It could be that. I don’t remember $q_him being like this in the past. Something’s changed. “I just asked because, well…” He seemingly searches for the right words. “I’m just a little worried about you.” I should smile. He shouldn't be worried. [["I think I'm a little worried, too."|c6_n_quinnworried]] [["Thank you for the concern but everything is fine." I smile.|c6_n_noworries]] \<<else>> “Yes. Why do you ask?” “No reason,” he says too quickly. When I give him a curious look, he sighs. “I’m just worried about you. $q_He seems…” He searches for the right words, the ones who won’t insult me. “Unstable?” [["I can see why you'd think that. But you shouldn't worry."|c6_n_noworries]] [[His words give me pause. Am I worried?|c6_n_quinnworried?]] [["That's ridiculous. There's nothing wrong with Quinn."]] <</if>>\

Suddenly, he asks, “Can I look at the tattoo?” “Why?” “I’m just curious. I don’t know much about the North’s druids and customs.” I give him a suspicious look but yield, rising from the water just enough for him to see. He tilts his head and studies my skin. “It’s a scar… How old were you when this was carved onto you?” “Pain is the price my gods demanded from me,” I say with conviction, not answering the question. “You were young?” he insists. Still, he worries. He shouldn’t. “By my tenth summer my mother branded me,” I say with my chin up high. “10?!” he gasps in horror. “You were a child!” “Yes but–” “Your mother is a–” But, before he can continue the thought, he stops himself. “My mother was the head druid who did her duty when the gods commanded it.” \<<if $chosen_one is true>> My voice is filled with religious fervor. There’s not a trace of doubt in my heart that it was necessary and mother did what she needed to. Niall, however, looks less convinced. He’s still eyeing at the tattoo but now he looks at it like there’s something wrong with it. Like there’s something wrong with my faith. “I don’t expect you to understand,” I say and my words are coated with some resentment. “I try to,” he says, his mind clearly deep in thought. “You can’t.” His features soften and he gives me a small smile. “Let’s say it is so.” \<<elseif $believer is true>> My voice is filled with conviction and certainty, I believe them fully. Niall, however, looks less convinced. He’s still eyeing at the tattoo but now he looks at it like there’s something wrong with it. Like there’s something wrong with my faith. “I don’t expect you to understand,” I say. He doesn’t share a similar bond with the gods. How could he understand? “I try to,” he says, his mind clearly deep in thought. “I suppose I appreciate it.” His features soften and he gives me a small smile. “Thank you.” \<<elseif $doubter is true>> The conviction in my voice cracks a little. Just a little, but he hears it and his features soften. “You were raised as a druid?” “Of course. That’s all I know.” He nods, deep in thought. “What?” “Nothing.” He gives me a soft smile. "I admire your conviction." His words make me look away. <</if>>\ [["Let's talk about something else," he says.|c6_n_gods]]

He looks away from my tattoo. “Can you talk with the gods?” His tone is intrigued, there’s not a trace of mockery. It’s the face of a man who’ll believe whatever I tell him. Hesitation halts my tongue. The meeting with Cernunnos lingers on my mind but above all there is the anger, the grief over being ignored by my own gods. [["Of course I can."|c6_n_confidentgods]] [[Admit that I've had some problems with contacting the Twins.|c6_n_godproblems]] [[Maybe I should sacrifice Niall to the Twins to make them listen.]]

“Of course I can,” I say with confidence boosted by my conversation with the Father of the Forest. “I just had a meeting with Cernunnos.” His eyes widen at the information. “The Father of the Forest? That’s–” He tries to speak but nothing comes out. “How?” he finally wheezes. “I contacted them with a sacrifice and in their grace they chose to listen.” “What did you sacrifice?” “A frog. I pulled them out of a frozen lake.” “Poor frog,” he muses. “And poor you, that sounds freezing. Do you worship Cernunnos?” I cringe at the question that’s poking at the abscessed wound on my chest. “No,” I admit. “I do not. But they were a gracious host and intrigued by me.” His mouth drops. “What an honor to be talking with the Ancient One.” “You seem familiar with them.” “They were one of the gods I contacted when I was unsure who to call. They seemed safe, somehow. I don’t think they answered.” “Are you sure you listened? The gods whisper in the wind, show themselves in the reflection of the water.” Gods know I’ve tried to listen to them myself. “I don’t know… I might have been too impatient.” \<<if $cernunnos_promise_optio is true>> “I even asked Cernunnos to take care of Optio’s soul.” “Oh! That’s so kind of you.” “And now Cernunnos is hunting him as a rabbit in an eternal limbo.” “Oh.” He purses his lips. “Well, it’s better than… the alternative?” “That’s what I thought!” I say in relief. The thought of the Optio’s fate lingers between us, guilt over his death eating up Niall. <</if>>\ [[Admit that I've had problems with contacting the Twins.|c6_n_godproblems]] [["Let's change the topic, alright?"|c6_n_name]]

“I’ve tried to contact my gods,” I say. “Many times I’ve tried. But they refuse to listen.” “Who are your gods?” “The Twins, the White Ones. The Righteous Butcher and the Just Bewitcher, Twins above, heed my call.” Their holy names turn into a prayer out of a habit. I start muttering their call over and over, my heart filled with anger and grief over being left alone, alone in the foreign land without a guide through the darkness. Then, a hand lands on my shoulder. I turn to look at Niall. His face is filled with empathy, he’s sharing my grief, my anger. “I don’t claim to understand what you’re going through. But I do understand the grief over not being heard. To be alone,” he adds the last word as but a whisper. He does. He was ripped out of his home land by the Romans. [["Thank you," I say with a smile.|c6_n_smilethankyou]] [[Look at his hand on my shoulder.|c6_n_lookathand]] [[Remain silent.|c6_n_remainsilent3]] [[His touch makes my heart race.|c6_n_heartracing]]

His words soothe my mind just a little. There’s relief to be found in being able to share your grieves with someone. And he gives me a smile in return. Then, he looks at his hand on my shoulder and yanks it away. “Uh, sorry.” “You can touch me, I don’t mind,” I comfort him. His face is flushed as he gives me a soft smile. “Thank you. I’m used to touching people, it’s a bad habit.” “If you touch strangers unpromptedly, then maybe you should consider changing your ways.” “I don’t go around hugging random people on the street,” he says with a chuckle. “Even if they look like they’d need one?” “Well, if they really look like it…” I laugh at the answer and he gives me a warm smile in return. [[Continue|c6_n_name]]

“Oh, sorry!” He lets go of me and retreats back to his designated spot on the pool, further away from me. I’m not sure if I minded his touch so much that he needed to flee from me with such determination. “It’s fine.” “No, it’s my fault for not thinking,” he quickly retorts. “I’m touchy. I should ask first.” Awkward silence lingers for a moment longer before he gathers the courage to ask me: [[Continue|c6_n_name]]

I’m not sure how to react to him touching me. Does it bother me? Niall rubs the back of his neck in clear distress. He thinks he hurt me. I’m hardly that brittle. Awkward silence lingers for a moment longer before he gathers the courage to speak. [[Continue|c6_n_name]]

\<<if $determined is true>> “I want to ask why you’re here but I’m also afraid of the answer. Sometimes I am afraid of the things I see in your eyes.” “What do you see?” “Something...” He focuses his gaze on mine. It’s inquisitive, almost piercing. But it’s also afraid. There’s almost something akin to a halo of light radiating from his messy hair. I blink and it’s gone. “I see darkness,” he says, his voice almost trembling. “But you choose to be here. In the darkness. With me.” “I’ve been called a fool before. Many times.” There’s a faint smile on his lips. “Maybe I can save you.” I chuckle. Is that what it is? He wants to save me from myself? “You can try,” I say, almost eager to see how he’s going to do that. He doesn’t fear for himself. He fears for the others, the people he holds dear. Legate, Marcus… For whatever Twins’ forsaken reason they both mean the world to him. And here I am. To kill them. [[Probably.|c6_n_probablykill]] [[Definitely.|c6_n_definitelykill]] \<<elseif $manipulated is true>> “Do you feel comfortable about answering me now? About why you’re here?” When I don’t outright deny it, he continues and his tone is hopeful, “It seems that you’re not here to kill anyone. Even Marcus.” [["Of course I'm not!"|c6_n_ofcnot]] [["No. I'm not."|c6_n_nokilling]] [["I don't know. Maybe I am."|c6_n_dunno]] [["No. Even if I really, really want to kill Marcus."]] <</if>>\

That is what I’m here for and that hasn’t changed. But should I tell him about it? I could lie and he’d believe me. He wants to believe that I wouldn’t hurt them. [[Lie.|c6_n_liekiller]] [[Tell the truth.|c6_n_truthkiller]]

<<set $hesitant_revenge to true>> That is what I wanted, at least. That’s what I should still want. Why does it feel wrong now? “But I’m also hopeful,” he says. “Because there is also so much good within you. I can see it.” I look away, my heart conflicted. I can’t bear to look at his earnest gaze. Gently, he takes my chin and makes me look at him. “I see your beauty,” he insists like a fool. But I’m the biggest fool for almost believing him. “No,” I say and shake his touch away. He doesn’t let it deter him. Instead, he looks almost happy. As if he uncovered something about me he wished to find. “I’ll be here. For whatever you need.” I merely sigh in response. I don’t know what to think. “I’ve been worried about you,” he says and it’s nothing new. But then, he adds something interesting, “You’ve seemed absent at times.” “Absent?” “Sometimes, you stare into nothingness. I call for you but you don’t listen. I fear it might be because of what happened to you.” I frown at the new information. I know that I’ve missed information from the time before I came here. Somehow I’ve brushed it off. The most important thing in my mind was my goal. “You didn’t know?” I shake my head. No need to lie to him. I need him to tell me more. He grows even more worried. “There’s something about you. Something broken.” “I–” I’m not broken. “No, I didn’t mean it like that. I mean… Your mind. It seems shattered. Like something’s missing.” “How do you know that?” He can see that? What is– [["I can help you," he says with determination in his voice.|c6_n_helpyou]]

“I’m here to murder Marcus and the Legate,” I say with my voice filled with conviction. His face falls as he shifts away from me. “I… Truly?” he asks, desperately wanting me to say that I’m kidding. [["Kidding!"|c6_n_kidding]] [["Truly."|c6_n_truly]]

“I couldn’t possibly hurt them,” I say with a small smile, forcing conflicted feelings within my tone and my features. And it is as I anticipated: he sighs in relief. “Thank Apollo, I was getting worried for a moment. I mean, I know that you’re a good person. I know it. But I would be lying if I didn’t fear.” I smile. And he smiles back at me with his fears soothed. [["But...," he says.|c6_n_butkiller]]

\<<set $niall_revenge_liar to true>> He processes my words for a while longer before sighing in relief with a small, confused smile on his face. “That’s not funny,” he says but sounds reassured enough. I wonder if he actually believes me. If he does, he must desperately want to believe it. I give him a small reassuring smile. It pays to have him on my side. I shouldn’t antagonize him too much. Not yet. “But…,” he says and I perk my ear. Does he still suspect something? However, his gaze seems more worried for me than anything else. He continues, “You seem absent at times.” “Absent?” “Sometimems, you stare into nothingness. I call for you but you don’t listen. I fear it might be because of what happened to you.” I frown at the new information. I know that I’ve missed information from the time before I came here. Somehow I’ve brushed it off. The most important thing in my mind was my goal. “You didn’t know?” I shake my head. No need to lie to him. I need him to tell me more. He grows even more worried. “There’s something about you. Something broken.” “I–” I’m not broken. “No, I didn’t mean it like that. I mean… Your mind. It seems shattered. Like something’s missing.” “How do you know that?” He can see that? What is– [["I can help you," he says with determination in his voice.|c6_n_helpyou]]

He searches for the truth in my words, my face. Then, when he finally accepts what he sees and hears, his eyes fill with grief. “But… Could you actually do it?” he asks, still hopeful. Still hoping that I’d say that I couldn’t do it, that my heart couldn’t bear the pain of guilt. [["If I must taint my hands with the blood of my enemies to avenge my people, I will."]] [["Of course. I might even enjoy it."]]

He takes a shaky breath. “I understand the need to avenge, please believe me, I do. But… It’s not just father and Marcus who are to blame for what happened.” “Who, then? The Emperor himself?” His eyes widen at the implication. “Don’t. Please don’t even consider that. You are not thinking straight. Your trauma–” “Stop talking like you know anything.” But he doesn’t back down. “What does killing them accomplish? The army of Rome will find replacements, continue thriving. You’ll just taint your own heart–” [["You don't understand..."|c6_n_dontunderstand]] [["What do you know? You're soft."|c6_n_softniall]] [[I'm not letting him get through to me.|c6_n_throughniall]]

He flinches at my words and disgust spreads across his easily readable face. But, he doesn’t back away. Instead, he says, “You’re not serious.” Still he tries to deflect. When I give him no reason to doubt my words, he frowns. “I think you’re traumatized over what happened and this isn’t you.” “Ha! You don’t know me.” “I do,” he says and the frown turns into determination. “I know you won’t do it.” I groan in frustration. Why does he keep poking at me like he knows anything? [["You don't understand..." Why do I sound hesitant?|c6_n_dontunderstand]] [["What do you know? You're soft." Push him away.|c6_n_softniall]] [[I'm not letting him get through to me.|c6_n_throughniall]]

I perk my ear. Does he still suspect something? However, his gaze seems more worried for me than anything else. He continues, “You seem absent at times.” “Absent?” “Sometimes, you stare into nothingness. I call for you but you don’t listen. I fear it might be because of what happened to you.” I frown at the new information. I know that I’ve missed information from the time before I came here. Somehow I’ve brushed it off. The most important thing in my mind was my goal. “You didn’t know?” I shake my head. No need to lie to him. I need him to tell me more. He grows even more worried. “There’s something about you. Something broken.” “I–” I’m not broken. “No, I didn’t mean it like that. I mean… Your mind. It seems shattered. Like something’s missing.” “How do you know that?” He can see that? What is– [["I can help you," he says with determination in his voice.|c6_n_helpyou]]

His gaze is fixed upon me, refusing to look away. Before I can say anything, he takes my face between his hands. His touch is gentle yet firm, he keeps me in place. I’m unable to look away. “What are you–” “Hush,” he says, his eyes uncharacteristically focused and serious. [["Let go of me!"|c6_n_letgo1]] [[Just wait and see.|c6_n_waitandsee]]

He closes his eyes. Even if I wanted to protest, I couldn’t. Something halts my tongue. Warmth spreads from his fingertips to my mind like a peaceful stream of water on a summer day. I’m a sky of thunder clouds, of fog and smoke. His touch is the light that cuts through the darkness, it makes me see. He makes me see. Makes me see behind the veil. I close my eyes. [[I see...|c6_n_isee]]

But he doesn’t listen. And I’ve seen that look in his eyes before. He’s in a trance. “Let me help you,” he whispers, ignoring my plea. He closes his eyes. Even if I wanted to further protest, I couldn’t. Something halts my tongue. Warmth spreads from his fingertips to my mind like a peaceful stream of water on a summer day. I’m a sky of thunder clouds, of fog and smoke. His touch is the light that cuts through the darkness, it makes me see. He makes me see. Makes me see behind the veil. I close my eyes. [[I see...|c6_n_isee]]

Niall lets me go with a startled look. “What happened? What did you see?” “Quinn,” I say without thinking. “So much blood…” $q_He killed them all in a ritual to contact the Twins. $q_He killed them all. No. What did you do? “Quinn? Your friend? What about $q_him?” I blink at Niall, just now realizing that he’s here and I should probably choose my words carefully. Or should I? Why shouldn’t Niall know? Something in me says that I shouldn’t tell him. [[Tell the truth in a neutral tone.|c6_n_nialltruthneutral]] [[Tell him. I'm distraught and I need to tell him.|c6_n_distraught]] [[No. I will need to find out what happened first. It might put him in danger.|c6_n_beefieindanger]] [[No. This is between Quinn and I.|c6_n_quinnandi]]

<<set $niall_truth_quinn to true>> “I saw Quinn. He killed people to contact my gods. Dozens of bodies littered the altar.” My tone is neutral and detached as I try to make sense of what I saw. Meanwhile, it’s Niall who reacts for me: “Your friend is a murderer?” He takes my hand in a protective gesture, as if to make sure I won’t wander far from him. Seeing my confused gaze he lets go. “I’m sorry,” he mutters. “But you’re sure it actually happened? It wasn’t just a… I don’t know. A weird dream?” “No. Something in me knows it to be true.” Niall’s face is a myriad of feelings. Mine, however, are concealed. I wonder if I always knew this to be the case. The Twins won’t listen to humans without a good reason. $q_He gave them a good reason. “Hati?” Niall asks. “I’m just thinking,” I say, distracted. “Does it… bother you?” [["Of course it does."|c6_n_ofc]] [["I'm not sure." I don't think it does.]]

<<set $niall_truth_quinn to true>> “I saw Quinn. After our village was killed. $q_He performed a ritual to contact my gods." \<<if $fire is true>> “$q_He killed them all,” I say. “Niall, there were so many. Their throats were slit open, so much blood muddied the ground and I–” //my fault my fault my fault my fault// “Hati, it’s fine,” he says and I don’t believe him. How could it be fine? My friend is a murderer. And I caused this. $q_He killed them all for me. “It’s all my fault,” I declare to him, to make him realize it. \<<elseif $earth is true>> “Dozens of bodies littered at the altar,” I repeat what I saw in a monotone. I stare at Niall, gawking at his reaction, trying to make sense of mine. My thoughts are a muddy pit, soggy and slow, and I’m unsure what to say. But none of that is betrayed in my voice, in my steady hands. However, I see the eyes of the dead staring at me, peering at me, blaming me. “I’m to blame,” I state, making Niall frown in worry. \<<elseif $air is true>> “Dozens of bodies littered the altar,” I repeat what I saw seemingly detached. But my heart is a storm. I look through Niall and think of the eyes of the dead, all peering at me, blaming me. They died because of me. I barely notice Niall trying to take my hand and me evading it. “I’m to blame,” I say in a silent hush, barely audible. \<<elseif $water is true>> “It… required a lot of blood. Lots of victims. There were so many bodies…” I look at my hands to witness them shaking. Niall takes my hand in his. His touch is firm and reliable and I quickly give him my other hand to seek his warmth. I close my eyes and try to focus on his hands. But all I see are the eyes of the dead, peering at me, blaming me. I jerk away to catch my breath, to calm myself. “You don’t understand,” I say with my throat tight. “I’m to blame." <</if>>\ “What? Don’t say that. Quinn is the one who–” “$q_He did it for me.” Niall shakes his head in anger. “No! Don’t you ever say that. You are not responsible for other people’s actions. You weren’t even there.” “I wasn’t but–” “No buts,” he says firmly, taking my hands to his, shielding them with his warmth. Shielding myself from my thoughts. “You are not to blame,” he repeats and squeezes my hands tighter. I nod, not sure if I believe him. He doesn’t know the circumstances. But still I let him hold my hands for a while longer before retreating from him. I need to talk to Quinn. [[Continue|c6_n_whatdidyoudo]]

<<set $no_niall_truth_quinn to true>> Whatever happened, it’s between us and Niall shouldn’t be involved. “No. Nothing,” I say. It does little to calm his nerves, however. I already mentioned the pools of blood. “I don’t think what I saw was real,” I quickly explain. His shoulders relax, but just a little. Still he suspects that I’m not telling the whole truth. “I’m a little distraught,” I say. “It was a lot but it was just a nightmare.” Finally, he sighs in half defeat, half relief. “Of course. Just a nightmare. I don’t know what I expected.” I give him a convincing smile. Good. I just need to talk to Quinn. [[Continue|c6_n_whatdidyoudo]]

<<set $no_niall_truth_quinn to true>> For some reason, I know that Niall will be in danger if he knows more than he should. I shouldn’t tell him. But why? Who would hurt him? Quinn? I shake my head to banish the thought. No. $q_He wouldn’t hurt the people I care about. Would $q_he? Then, a small, confused smile starts dancing on my lips. Do I care about Niall? “What are you smiling about?” he asks and I realize how deranged I must look: smiling like a maniac after talking about baths of blood. “Nothing, I just… thought of something.” “You’re alright?” “Of course,” I say and wave his concern off. I can’t talk about this with him. I need to talk to Quinn. [[Continue|c6_n_whatdidyoudo]]

“You’ve become Roman. You’re nothing like me.” I stab him in his heart with my words and look for a reaction. To his credit, he keeps looking at me, only barely flinching at my words. “I know what deep seated hatred does to people. I’ve seen it. It eats away at you and you will end up but a shell of your old self.” “I’m not here to argue with you,” I say. He nods. “Me neither. But I will keep an eye on you.” I scoff. “Really? You?” “Yes. Marcus can take care of himself but you won’t lay a finger on father.” I lean against the cold marble pool with an impressed smirk on my face. There’s a fire within him, after all. “Why are you so loyal to him? The man kidnapped you.” “No. He gave me shelter when I had none. He was a father to me when I had none.” Father issues. Typical. I raise my hands as a sign of mocking surrender. There is no need to continue this discussion further. But he’s not done. “I will make you see that you don’t need to do this,” he says. “I will show you kindness, just like people showed me when I was alone and afraid.” “I’m not alone and afraid,” I quickly dismiss his ridiculous words. “But you are–” “No!” I shout and get up from the pool. “I’ve heard enough of this foolishness.” \<<if $fire is true>> Anger fuels my step as I stomp to my clothes. “$name–” “Don’t use my real name,” I hiss at him and he flinches. It feels too personal on his lips. Like it belongs there. But it doesn’t. I… need to get out of here. \<<elseif $earth is true>> I clench my jaw and try to bury my anger. With determined purpose, I walk to my clothes. “$name,” he says but I don’t listen. He tries to persuade me to stay. To listen to his foolishness. I won’t. I need to leave. \<<elseif $air is true>> I take a deep breath and try to calm myself. I shouldn’t let him under my skin. “$name,” he says but I don’t listen. My mind is elsewhere as I take my clothes and leave. I need to leave. \<<elseif $water is true>> Anger grates my heart as I try to calm myself. I need to leave, I can’t stay here. “$name,” he says but I shake my head. No. Don’t listen to him. I need to get out of here. <</if>> [[Continue|c6_n_marcusarrives]]

“But I do,” he insists. “I felt the same. I wanted to kill them.” I frown at his words. “You did?” “You lost everyone you love. Of course you want revenge for it. It’s only natural for you to feel that way.” [["My hate doesn't feel natural."]] [[Shake my head. I choose not to listen.]]

My voice is a whisper, musing, wondering, only partly aware that I’m confiding in him. Something about me wonders, at times. “What do you mean?” His voice is hushed, as if he’s afraid that he’d scare me out of my confession. Why does it feel that my hatred doesn’t fully belong to me? The embers were there but it’s as if the flames kept getting fanned without me. “Sometimes I find myself in places I’m not supposed to be in. I don’t remember how I got there. I don’t remember how I got here, either.” “Here?” “My mind woke up when I was at the conscription office. I had this burning pit in my stomach. The anger was mine but it felt… foreign, somehow. It's mine but it's... not.” It gnaws at me constantly, urges me to lash out. “I wanted to have my revenge, it was my goal, my only reason to continue walking. But sometimes my mind felt… controlled.” “Controlled?” He frowns in confusion. He studies me, but there’s no trace of him not believing me. He tries to make sense of this. He inspects me. Then, something lights up in his eyes. [["I can help you," he says with determination in his voice.|c6_n_helpyou]]

I clench my jaw and look away. What does he know about anything? It is my god given duty to kill them and if he’s going to stand in my way, I will kill him, too. //could you kill him? you soft, weak thing// “Of course I could,” I mutter to myself, trying to defend myself against the voice of my mother. “What did you say?” “Nothing,” I hiss and try to shield myself against his concerned gaze. “I’m sorry,” he says as he raises his hands, as if calming a wild animal. “I can see that you’re–” “No.” I shake my head and step out of the pool. I refuse to listen. “Please, don’t–” “Don’t,” I say. I take my clothes and walk away. [[Continue|c6_n_marcusarrives]]

"Sure, it does,” I say and Niall’s shoulders relax. “Oh, good. I was worried that…” “That I don’t care about mass murders?” Before he can answer, I add, “I just need to think. It’s a lot to take in.” “I’m sorry, yes. This is a lot. I realize this takes time, I’m just anxious. I’m sorry.” I ignore his string of apologies and look to the distance. I need to talk to Quinn. [[Continue|c6_n_whatdidyoudo]]

\<<set $psycho to true>> Is it a relief to finally know at least a fraction of what happened? The fate of the faceless dead is difficult to grasp when I’ve already seen so many peering at me, blaming me for living when their lives were cut short. Or don’t I care at all? Is it good that they died because of me? That Quinn killed them for me? In the middle of my musings, I realize that Niall has been staring the whole time. His gaze is darkened with worry. “What are you thinking?” he asks, his voice lower than usual. Careful but stern, ready to hear my answer. “If I care,” I answer truthfully and he nods. “It’s a side effect of the trauma you experienced. Seeming lack of empathy” he says firmly, quickly, without accepting any other explanation. “It’ll pass.” ‘I’ll help you,’ he adds with his determined gaze. And I find myself nodding along, just to appease him. For now. First, I need to talk with Quinn. [[Continue|c6_n_whatdidyoudo]]

“What did you do to me?” I ask to change the topic from Quinn to him. He did something to me. Something not natural. “I’m not sure,” he says and it’s easy to believe him. His face is confused but not surprised. “I just knew that I could help you.” “Do you have a god from whom you’re drawing your powers from?” “I can’t say that I do.” He rubs the back of his neck, his gaze evading mine. It doesn’t seem that he’s lying. More so that he’s awkward about not knowing. I give him a long, expectant look. There must be something he knows. What he did… that’s not normal for laymen. He sighs. “I truly don’t know. All I know is that I saw your mind as a river that was blocked. And I knew that I could unblock it if I tried.” “But…,” I try but it’s most likely useless to try and make sense of this. One weird thing at a time. I sigh and he sighs with me. “I’m sorry, I wish I could tell you more.” Curious. There’s more to him than meets the eye. It seems there’s no finding out the truth about him. Not now. It seems that he himself doesn’t know the answer and he seems unwilling to discuss it further. He takes a deep, ragged breath, and I feel like doing the same. The amount of reveals this bath ended up including is not something I expected. [[“I should probably go.” It’s been a lot.|c6_n_ishouldgo]] [[Look at him.|c6_lookielook]]

<<set $niall_refusal to true>> “Niall,” I say, my voice low and suggestive. He shifts uncomfortably when he hears it. “I appreciate you taking care of me. I understand that you fear what might happen to me. But…” I move closer to him, closer to the heat of his frame. \<<if $gender is "woman">> “I’m a big girl, I can take care of myself.” \<<elseif $gender is "man">> “I’m a big boy, I can take care of myself.” \<<else>> “I can take care of myself.” <</if>>\ He gulps, all too loudly. His gaze wanders to my naked skin, lingering, wanting. Hungry. Darkness runs across his gaze as he sighs. I lean in closer and he captures my arm. Just when I think that he’s about to yank me closer to him, he pushes me away. “No!” He keeps shaking his head. “I’m… sorry.” “You don't want me?” “What? No! I mean yes. I mean…” He sighs, clearly distressed. “I can’t. I’m sorry.” [["Why? Because you fear what might happen to me?"]] [["I understand."|c6_n_understood]] [[Remain silent.|c6_n_silence3]]

\<<set $pacifist_hati to true>> My voice is cracking a little due to intense emotions. I'm not a murderer. \<<if (($earth is true) or ($air is true))>> The outburst is unlike me and I’m forced to look away to calm myself. <</if>>\ There’s something churning in my stomach as the words leave me, something loudly protesting in my mind. I should be here to kill, I should want to– Niall sighs in relief. “I knew it. I just… In your shoes, I would’ve wanted revenge.” “Did you want that when you were forced to come here?” He nods without hesitation. “Yes. I wanted to strangle the senators with my own hands.” [["With your little child hands?"]] [["You did?" I find that difficult to imagine.]] [["Want to go strangle some senators together?"]]

\<<set $pacifist_hati to true>> There’s something churning in my stomach as the words leave me, something loudly protesting in my mind. I should be here to kill, I should want to– Niall sighs in relief. “I knew it. I just… In your shoes, I would’ve wanted revenge.” “Did you want that when you were forced to come here?” He nods without hesitation. “Yes. I wanted to strangle the senators with my own hands.” [["With your little child hands?"]] [["You did?" I find that difficult to imagine.]] [["Want to go strangle some senators together?"]]

\<<set $conflicted_manipulated to true>> He frowns at my words but there’s no judgment in his gaze. “You’re hesitant. Why?” How do I start telling him that there’s something wrong with me? How something within me wants me to kill the ones responsible for what happened but… It’s not me. Or is it? “I don’t know,” I say and it’s the truth. There’s something churning in my stomach as the words leave me, something loudly protesting in my mind. I should be here to kill, I should want to– Niall sighs in relief. “I knew it. I just… In your shoes, I would’ve wanted revenge.” “Did you want that when you were forced to come here?” He nods without hesitation. “Yes. I wanted to strangle the senators with my own hands.” [["With your little child hands?"]] [["You did?" I find that difficult to imagine.]] [["Want to go strangle some senators together?"]]

\<<set $pacifist_hati to true>> He chuckles at my words. “Who doesn’t?” Soon enough, however, his smile vanishes. “You, out of all people, are justified to feel that.” “I suppose,” I say in a small voice as I look at the water. “But I won’t do it.” There’s something churning in my stomach as the words leave me, something loudly protesting in my mind. I should be here to kill, I should want to– Niall sighs in relief. “I knew it. I just… In your shoes, I would’ve wanted revenge.” “Did you want that when you were forced to come here?” He nods without hesitation. “Yes. I wanted to strangle the senators with my own hands.” [["With your little child hands?"]] [["You did?" I find that difficult to imagine.]] [["Want to go strangle some senators together?"]]

That’s nothing new. He continues, “You seem… absent, at times. Like your mind is elsewhere,” he starts. Absent? “What do you mean?” “I’ve seen you staring at father’s villa from time to time. You just stand there and… stare.” He’s witnessed my episodes? My heartbeat quickens. How many times have I walked around the fort without knowing? "I... I've missed a lot of memories after what happened," I say, reluctantly. He nods, carefully urging me to continue. “Sometimes I find myself in places I’m not supposed to be in. I don’t remember how I got there. I don’t remember how I got here, either.” “Here?” “My mind woke up when I was at the conscription office. I had this burning pit in my stomach. Anger that didn’t feel mine.” It still gnaws at me, urges me to lash out. “Something in me wanted me to avenge my family. Everyone who died. I just– “Anger that doesn’t feel yours?” “I can’t really explain it. Maybe it is mine, maybe what happened… I don’t know.” I take a deep breath. “I don’t know how I ended up here but now I need to find my little sister and brother." “You will,” he reassures me. “Tinsae is already tracking them down as we speak.” “Tinsae?” “If anyone can find them, it’s her,” he says, fully trusting his friend. It makes me feel a little better. “I know it’s agonizing,” he continues. “To not know… I have a little brother as well.” I give him a small smile. “I try not to think about it too much. It would make me mad.” Without hesitation, he pets my head. His large hand caresses my hair briefly to give me comfort. “You’ll find them.” [[I will. I have to.|c6_n_find]]

He inspects me. “I know I say this a lot but I’m worried.” “Yes, you–” “Worried about your head.” “My head? I–” But he doesn’t let me continue the thought. Instead, he peers at me, inspects me. “There’s something about you. Something broken.” “I–” I’m not broken. “No, I didn’t mean it like that. I mean… Your mind. It seems shattered. Like something’s missing.” “How do you know that?” He can see that? What is– [["I can help you," he says with determination in his voice.|c6_n_helpyou]]

He laughs. “They were small back then, yes. But I was full of rage and fear.” He gives me a meaningful look. He thinks we share that. “But I learned to be good at concealing what I actually feel,” he says as if it’s a good thing. “That doesn’t sound healthy.” He rubs the back of his neck. “Yes, no. But it was necessary. Anyway," he says. "Let's not talk about me. I’ve been worried about you." [[That's nothing new.|c6_n_nothingnew]]

“I was full of rage and fear.” He gives me a meaningful look. He thinks we share that. “But I learned to be good at concealing what I actually feel,” he says as if it’s a good thing. “That doesn’t sound healthy.” He rubs the back of his neck. “Yes, no. But it was necessary. Anyway," he says. "Let's not talk about me. “I’ve been worried about you." [[That's nothing new.|c6_n_nothingnew]]

He bursts out laughing. “You just said you weren’t here to kill.” “But if I had an accomplice…” I say with a sneaky smile. Still he smiles, shaking his head. “They’re my father’s friends. It would make him look bad.” “By committing a mass murder? I’ll say.” He chuckles at my jokes, ones he must wish were merely jokes. Maybe they are. But soon enough, the smile slowly vanishes. Instead, he gives me a worried frown. “I’ve been worried about you." [[That's nothing new.|c6_n_nothingnew]]

Niall quickly nods in understanding. “Of course.” \<<if $niall_truth_quinn is true>> “Are you going to talk to your friend?” There’s worry, bordering on panic, in his tone. Why wouldn’t there be? I just told him that my friend is a mass murderer. I nod. It’s something that has to be done. I can’t exactly ignore $q_him even if I wanted to. “I…,” he starts, hesitating. “I don’t like the idea of you talking with $q_him alone.” [["There's nothing to worry about." Quinn won't hurt me.|c6_n_quinnwonthurt]] [["I need to do this alone."|c6_n_alone]] [["Thank you." I smile. "But I need to do this alone."|c6_n_thankyoualone]] \<<else>> The pile of bodies lingers at the back of my mind. I need to talk to Quinn. [[I need to hear the truth.]] [[I'm worried and a little afraid.|c6_n_quinnafraid]] <</if>>\

I give him a careful look, unsure what to think about the revelations. My mind is still filled with the images of blood. I blink, trying to banish them from my mind. I try to focus on Niall. \<<if $loud_pervert is true>> On his strong, yet soft body that is naked in front of me. My gaze lingers, taking in every curve of his muscles. I wonder how far he would be willing to go to take my mind off things? I smile at the thought. “You look devious,” he says with a tight throat. “Oh?” I say, unbothered that he knows I’m looking at him. He clears his throat and looks away, shifting uncomfortably. \<<elseif $shy_pervert is true>> On his strong, yet soft body that is naked in front of me. My gaze lingers, taking in every curve of his muscles. I wonder how far he would be willing to go to take my mind off things? I smile at the thought. “You look devious,” he says with a tight throat. I blink. I didn’t realize I was so obvious. I look away. “Sorry.” “It’s fine,” he says as he clears his throat. Despite his words, he shifts uncomfortably. \<<elseif $clueless is true>> On his strong, yet soft body that is naked in front of me. My gaze lingers, taking in every curve of his muscles. Only when I see that he’s blushing I realize that I’m doing that. I look away. “Uh, sorry. My mind was elsewhere.” “It’s fine.” His voice is a little tight. \<<elseif $not_interested is true>> I focus on his kind face, on the way his gaze darts from his hands to me, to the surface of the water, to his hands again. He’s nervous. I wonder if I’m making him nervous? He gives me a small, hesitant smile. “What are you thinking?” “Nothing,” I lie. “It’s just been a lot.” “It definitely has.” He sighs. “Do you still want to talk about it?” No. I don’t think talking about it solves anything. I just need to… talk to Quinn. [[“I should probably go.”|c6_n_ishouldgo]] <</if>>\ He claps his hands as if our business is done for the day. \<<if $niall_truth_quinn is true>> “I had a nice bath," he starts and rethinks his words. "Well, apart from that ‘your friend is a mass murderer’ thing.” He grimaces, seemingly trying to banish the thought. “I, uh, maybe we could call it a day. Unless you want to still talk about it, of course.” No. I don’t think talking about it solves anything. Besides, he looks like he's ready to leave. Do I want to change his mind about that? Maybe we could still do something else than talk. \<<else>> “I had a nice bath, didn’t you? Maybe we could call it a day.” He clearly wants to leave. <</if>>\ [[Respect his decision. "I should go."|c6_n_ishouldgo]] [[Try to change his mind about leaving. I want him.|c6_n_changehismind]]

$q_He won’t hurt me, I know that. But Niall looks less convinced. “Are you sure?” he asks again, begging me with his gaze to let him take care of it. Let him save me. But there’s nothing he can do. I will have to talk with Quinn alone. And I know that $q_he won’t hurt me. Of this, I’m sure. $q_He won’t hurt me. It’s like a mantra I’m repeating in my head. //never you// “I am,” I say, and my voice is forceful enough to make him retreat. “I’m just worried,” he says in a last effort to make me change my mind. When I say nothing, his shoulder sack in defeat. “Just be careful,” he says in a hushed tone. "I will be." Niall clenches his jaw in disapproval. But he doesn’t fight me on this. Instead, he says, “I will keep an eye on $q_him.” I smile dryly at the thought. Quinn is a shadow in the fort, I doubt Niall can even see $q_him unless $q_he willed it. With determination guiding my step, I get out of the pool, and put my clothes on. I give Niall one last look and he quickly gives me one last smile. “Good luck,” he says. I might need it. [[Continue|Back at the barracks.]]

Instantly, he returns the smile. But his gaze is still filled with worry. “Don’t worry,” I say. “Quinn would never hurt me.” I’m certain it’s the truth. But Niall looks less convinced. “Are you sure?” he asks again, begging me with his gaze to let him take care of it. Let him save me. But there’s nothing he can do. I will have to talk with Quinn alone. And I know that $q_he won’t hurt me. I didn’t know that $q_he’d go this far to ‘help’ me but… //never you// Of this, I’m sure. $q_He won’t hurt me. It’s like a mantra I’m repeating in my head. “I am,” I say, and my voice is forceful enough to make him retreat. “I’m just worried,” he says in a last effort to make me change my mind. “And I’m grateful. But I will take care of this alone.” His shoulders sag in defeat. But he won't let this go, he will keep an eye on Quinn. I smile dryly at the thought. Quinn is a shadow in the fort, I doubt Niall can even see $q_him unless $q_he willed it. With determination guiding my step, I get out of the pool, and put my clothes on. I give Niall one last look and he quickly gives me one last smile. “Good luck,” he says. I might need it. [[Continue|Back at the barracks.]]

There’s nothing he can do. I will have to talk with Quinn alone. And I’m sure $q_he won’t hurt me. //never you// “Are you sure?” he asks again, begging me with his gaze to let him take care of it. Let him save me. But there’s nothing he can do. I will have to talk with Quinn alone. And I know that $q_he won’t hurt me. Of this, I’m sure. $q_He won’t hurt me. It’s like a mantra I’m repeating in my head. //never you// “I am,” I say, and my voice is forceful enough to make him retreat. “I’m just worried,” he says in a last effort to make me change my mind. When I say nothing, his shoulder sack in defeat. “Just be careful,” he says in a hushed tone. "I will be." Niall clenches his jaw in disapproval. But he doesn’t fight me on this. Instead, he says, “I will keep an eye on $q_him.” I smile dryly at the thought. Quinn is a shadow in the fort, I doubt Niall can even see $q_him unless $q_he willed it. With determination guiding my step, I get out of the pool, and put my clothes on. I give Niall one last look and he quickly gives me one last smile. “Good luck,” he says. I might need it. [[Continue|Back at the barracks.]]

I blink at the intrusive thought. That might get them to listen. “In Hibernia,” I ask, my voice stable despite the weird kind of excitement in my heart, “Do they worship the gods with blood? Humans, specifically.” Niall frowns at my question. “No? Is it… common in Caledonia?” His voice is uneasy but cautiously curious. “I don’t know. I never ventured far from my village.” “Was it common in your village?” he asks more precisely, knowing that I’m evading the subject. “No,” I say quickly. He relaxes. But still a sense of uneasiness hangs in the air. “Why are you asking?” “I… don’t know.” “You just randomly think about human sacrifices?” My laugh is a little strained. “That’s me.” “You’re a little weird.” He chuckles. “But I like it.” I need to change the subject. [["I just recently had a meeting with Cernunnos themselves."|c6_n_confidentgods]] [[Admit that I've had problems with contacting the Twins.|c6_n_godproblems]] [["Let's change the topic altogether, alright?"|c6_n_name]]

“Do you miss your family?” I ask to change the subject. “I miss my mama. And my brother. “Mama? Really?” Maybe I shouldn't be the one to judge. He purses his lips in embarrassment. “What of it? ‘Mother’ sounds so formal.” "It does," I yield. “You don’t miss your father?” His face turns sour at the mention of his father. He doesn’t need to elaborate on the subject for me to know that the topic is difficult for him. [[Probe him.|c6_n_probefather]] [[Let it be.|c6_n_letitbe]]

“Hati isn’t your real name, isn’t it?” “No.” Something in him changes, almost as if he’s relieved to hear it. He asks, holding his breath, “What is your real name?” “It’s $name,” I say, not sure what significance knowing it holds to him. He exhales in clear relief, his posture inflating, making him seem more sure of himself. He gives me an easy, warm smile. “Thank you for sharing it. Your name is as lovely as you are.” [["Where did that come from?"|c6_n_where?]] [["Tone down the sweet talk, gancanagh."|c6_n_toneitdown]] [[Stare at him in silence.|c6_n_silentstare]]

\<<set $niall_worried to true>> \<<set $quinn_worried to true>> Disappointment flows through me over my words. I shouldn’t have said that. He’s not one of us. He doesn’t know. Niall clenches his jaw as his worried gaze peers into me. “Do you need help with $q_him?” Help? What could he do about $q_him? It might just make things worse if he interferes. Besides, there’s nothing to interfere with. I’m just overreacting. Yes, that must be it. I give him a small smile. “It’s fine. You don’t need to worry.” “But you just–” “I didn’t think my words through. It’s fine.” He gives me a small, worried frown. He doesn’t believe me. But it doesn't matter. [[Continue|c6_n_tattoo]]

“It’s just the trauma,” I explain. “We’ve both been through a lot.” There’s something about him that makes me think he doesn’t believe me. But still, he nods. “I will keep that in mind and be more thoughtful when it comes to $q_him.” “$q_He can be cruel. You don’t have to stand up for that.” What else would he do? Quinn won’t listen to him if he tries to shut $q_him down. Quinn only listens to me. “Oh, it's fine. I can blank out when $q_he next starts calling me names,” he offers all too kindly. [[Continue|c6_n_tattoo]]

\<<set $niall_worried to true>> \<<set $quinn_worried to true>> “$q_He does seem unstable nowadays,” I start, my mind wondering. Niall’s features harden as he listens intently to my every word. “You can tell me.” Something tries to prevent me from speaking. I ignore it. “$q_He can be… quite pushy at times. And $q_he gets mad at the smallest of things. $q_He hasn’t been the same after what happened.” There’s a knot in my stomach tightening when I talk. //shut up shut up// “Is it about the trauma you’ve both experienced?” he offers, all too kindly. Quinn was so rude to him and still he tries to offer an olive branch. But I shouldn't tell him. I should just say it’s the trauma and move on. He shouldn’t know. He’s an outsider. “Maybe,” I say. It could be that. I don’t remember $q_him being like this in the past. Something’s changed. “I just asked because, well…” He seemingly searches for the right words. “I’m just a little worried about you.” I should smile. He shouldn't be worried. Niall clenches his jaw as his worried gaze peers into me. “Do you need help with $q_him?” Help? What could he do about $q_him? It might just make things worse if he interferes. Besides, there’s nothing to interfere with. I’m just overreacting. Yes, that must be it. I give him a small smile. “It’s fine. You don’t need to worry.” “But you just–” “I didn’t think my words through. It’s fine.” He gives me a small, worried frown. He doesn’t believe me. But it doesn't matter. [[Continue|c6_n_tattoo]]

"Are you… sure? Has $q_he always been like that? So detached and…” It’s as if he wants to add an adjective even more sinister but he withholds it. “I wouldn’t worry about it. $q_He’s fine. Try to ignore $q_him when $q_he’s cruel, though. $q_He can be a little protective towards me.” “Protective?” He wonders for a moment. “There’s a part of $q_him that seems like that. Then there’s another part who seems to treat you like a pet $q_he can replace.” I raise my brows at the comment. “I mean, no, forget about it. I’m sorry I said anything.” “A pet?” I scoff at the accusation, the ridiculousness of it. That oaf. What does he know? [[Continue|c6_n_tattoo]]

He seems deflated once more, his shoulders sag as he looks at the water in frustration. “What are you talking about?” I ask. Finally, after a long surge of silence, he says: “Things feel different with you.” “Why?” “You see me differently from anyone else.” Vague words. What does he mean by that? “I don’t know how to explain it.” He rakes his wet hair, his fingers getting stuck in its tangles. He frowns at the sensation. “Try.” He sighs, letting go of his wet nest hair. “With others, I can hold myself together. With you, I’m the one who fumbles, who’s nervous, who can’t utter a coherent sentence.” Redness rises to his cheeks. “Who can’t stop fucking blushing.” I flinch at the curse word that’s almost unfit for his mouth. "I hate it," he says. [["I'm... sorry?"|c6_n_sorry?]] [["What do you mean by that?"|c6_n_wdym?]] [["I find you endearing just as you are."|c6_n_endearing]] [["Please don't say that you hate yourself."|c6_n_nohate]] [["You are a little annoying but I wouldn't be here if I absolutely loathed you."]]

It’s almost jarring to hear him talk like that all of a sudden. My teasing words make the familiar pink rise up to his cheeks. “Uh, sorry. But don’t call me that.” “Gancanagh? Why not?” “What if I called you a banshee?” “I’d thank you kindly.” He rolls his eyes. “Besides, I am smooth. Ask anyone.” “I don’t need to ask, I’ve seen firsthand how unsmooth you are.” Offended, he purses his lips and looks away. After a moment of awkward silence, he sighs in defeat. “I know. I thought this would make a difference but it didn’t.” “What didn’t?” “Knowing you. But it just gets worse.” [[Continue|c6_n_awkward]]

It sounds like the problem is with me, even if I don’t quite understand the issue. “No, no, please don’t apologize. I don’t think it’s your fault.” “But if you’re not this way with others, wouldn’t that imply…” “I don’t know what to make of it. I try to get a grip of myself, I’m sorry. Please don’t blame yourself. I would never want you to do that.” His words seem genuine. “Is there anything I can do differently to make you feel better?” “No, you’re perfect. Don’t change a thing,” he says with conviction. He continues, without flinching, “The problem is me. I don’t know what’s wrong with me.” “But–” “No. I shouldn’t have brought it up.” He exhales in frustration. "Sorry. Besides, there are more important things to discuss, if you feel up for it." [["There is something I need to know," he says.]]

He lets out a laugh. “Right,” he says, as if he thought I was trying to be funny. But when I show no sign of backing down, he frowns. “You’re serious?” “Of course,” I say. His cheeks flush up to the tips of his ears. He looks away and clears his throat. “You’re weird.” “For liking you for the way you are?” I almost laugh at the thought. “I question your tastes,” he says as he rakes his hair in thought. “Is there anything I can do differently to make you feel better?” “No, you’re perfect. Don’t change a thing,” he says with conviction. “But–” “No. I shouldn’t have brought it up.” He exhales in frustration. "Sorry. Besides, there are more important things to discuss, if you feel up for it." [["There is something I need to know," he says.]]

“I… I don’t know what I mean. It’s confusing and I’m not trying to confuse you, too.” He seems genuinely perplexed by his situation. He continues, “I am… This.” He gestures at himself, as if he’s something disgusting to look at. “And I’m not. I don’t like it. And I’m sure you hate it, too.” “I don’t hate you,” I say, confused by the sudden shifts in his tone. He looks at me perplexed. “Are you sure?” “Yes?” “Well, I question your tastes,” he says as he rakes his hair in thought. “Is there anything I can do differently to make you feel better?” “No, you’re perfect. Don’t change a thing,” he says with conviction. “But–” “No. I shouldn’t have brought it up.” He exhales in frustration. "Sorry. Besides, there are more important things to discuss, if you feel up for it." [["There is something I need to know," he says.]]

“Oh?” He blinks at my words, processing them. “Oh, I did say that.” I wait for him to continue but he doesn’t. Instead, he sighs and buries his face in his hands. “I can’t believe I made this all about me when you just told–” “Don’t worry about it,” I say quickly. He gives me a grateful smile. “You’re too good for me.” I return the smile but wonder what he meant by all of this. He continues, “Please don’t think the problem is you. It’s me. I don’t know what’s wrong with me.” “Is there anything I can do differently to make you feel better?” “No, you’re perfect. Don’t change a thing,” he says with conviction. “But–” “No. I shouldn’t have brought it up.” He exhales in frustration. "Sorry. Besides, there are more important things to discuss, if you feel up for it." [["There is something I need to know," he says.]]

He lets out a laugh. “I love your honesty.” He rakes his hair in thought, closing his eyes. “Let’s talk about something else.” "No, wait. What did you mean by that?" “No. I shouldn’t have brought it up.” He exhales in frustration. "Sorry. Besides, there are more important things to discuss, if you feel up for it." [["There is something I need to know," he says.]]

I’m not sure what to make of his charade, so I merely give him a stare. And, soon enough, the confidence he so easily wore starts crumbling down. He shrinks to himself and looks away. “I hate this,” he mutters to himself. “What?” “I thought this would make a difference but it didn’t.” “What didn’t?” “Knowing you. But it just gets worse.” [[Continue|c6_n_awkward]]

“What?” He frowns in confusion. “Smoothness.” “Huh?” He blinks before flushing red himself. “I am smooth! It shouldn’t come as a surprise.” “Niall. I say this with affection and care, but you’re not particularly smooth.” Offended, he purses his lips and looks away. After a moment of awkward silence, he sighs in defeat. “I know. I thought this would make a difference but it didn’t.” “What didn’t?” “Knowing you. But it just gets worse.” [[Continue|c6_n_awkward]]

"I will give you privacy," he quickly announces and looks away, letting me spread the cream in peace. \<<if (($sex is "female") and ($cis is true))>> I take a deep breath and spread the lotion on my itching, aching skin. It hurts, but at least he doesn’t see my grimacing face. I focus on Niall's wide back. He seems almost afraid to look at me. It’s curious. Is he just that shy? “I’m done,” I say and, with some reluctance, he turns to look at me once again. Again, he tries not to look at me. [[“Does this bother you? Sharing a bath with me?”]] \<<elseif (($sex is "male") and ($cis is true))>> I spread the cream on my body with my eyes on Niall’s wide back. He seems almost afraid to look at me. It’s curious. Is he just that shy? “I’m done,” I say and, with some reluctance, he turns to look at me once again. Again, he tries not to look at me. [[“Does this bother you? Sharing a bath with me?”]] \<<elseif $cis isnot true>> I spread the cream on my body with my eyes on Niall’s wide back. “I’m done,” I say and, with some reluctance, he turns to look at me once again. He seems to put great weight on my gender identity. I should probably talk to him about it. [[Continue|c6_n_transdiscussion]] <</if>>\

I sigh and nod. I should probably offer him an explanation so he will keep his eyes to himself. “I don’t like to show my breasts to anyone.” He gives me a hesitant nod. “I understand.” I don’t think he does. But it’s nice to think that he could. “It’s not just that I don’t want you to look at them. I don’t want anyone to look at them.” He gives me a long, pondering look. “You don’t like your breasts?” I shake my head. He takes my hand in his, warming my skin. I look up at his equally warm smile. “I will look away if you want me to. And I’m here if you want to talk about anything.” “I… Thank you.” He gives me one last smile and turns away, leaving my skin to miss the warmth he gave me. Quickly enough, I take the bindings off. I sigh deeply in relief and start peeling the bindings off. It hurts, I haven’t had the chance to change them in a good while. I try to keep them as clean as I can but there have been more sentries lurking along the riverbed recently. Finally, my skin is free. I take a deep breath and smile, the feeling of freedom without the bindings obstructing my breathing is exhilarating. The skin itches and aches but I’m so glad to be rid of the dirty wrappings. I sink deep into the water and say: “You can look now.” He turns with an understanding smile stretching his lips. Then, when he sees the rash crawling at my decollete, he frowns. “That looks bad.” He takes a closer look and I flinch at the attention. He immediately retreats. “I’m sorry, I… Your skin. It’s bad. You need ailments.” He leans towards the small shelf containing an array of clay and glass vials. He picks a beautiful glass vial of something and gives it to me with a smile on his face. "It'll help." "Thank you." The smell of the lotion is pleasant enough; it's got hints of floral, vinegar, and herbs. [[Continue|c6_n_myself]]

I shift uncomfortably, not sure how to proceed. Niall frowns in worry. “If you’re uncomfortable, I will look away.” “I am. Could you?” “Of course,” he says and, with a splash, turns his wide back at me. I sigh deeply in relief and start peeling the bindings off. It hurts, I haven’t had the chance to change them in a good while. I try to keep them as clean as I can but there have been more sentries lurking along the riverbed recently. Finally, my skin is free. I take a deep breath and smile, the feeling of freedom without the bindings obstructing my breathing is exhilarating. The skin itches and aches but I’m so glad to be rid of the dirty wrappings. I sink deep into the water and say: “You can look now.” He turns with an understanding smile stretching his lips. Then, when he sees the rash crawling at my decollete, he frowns. “That looks bad.” He takes a closer look and I flinch at the attention. He immediately retreats. “I’m sorry, I… Your skin. It’s bad. You need ailments.” He leans towards the small shelf containing an array of clay and glass vials. He picks a beautiful glass vial of something and gives it to me with a smile on his face. "It'll help." "Thank you." The smell of the lotion is pleasant enough; it's got hints of floral, vinegar, and herbs. [[Continue|c6_n_myself]]

\<<if $gender is "transwoman">> “I want to talk to you about something,” I start, not sure how to continue. He gives me a small, encouraging smile. “You can tell me anything.” I take a breath and blurt it all out: “I’m a woman, despite what my gods’ determined sex implies. Every time I hear people call me a man, it feels wrong and it hurts me deep in my core. For now, it is what it is, I need to continue the charade for my own safety, but if you could just… refer to me as a woman when we’re in private, I would appreciate it.” I let out the breath I was holding, not eager to see how Niall reacts to the news. But when I finally look at him, his eyes are filled with emotion. “I’m sorry if I’ve ever hurt you with my words.” “It’s fine, you didn’t know.” “I didn’t but–” He wanted to. He wanted to be there for me from the start. He sighs. “Thank you for telling me.” \<<elseif $gender is "transman">> “I want to talk to you about something,” I start, not sure how to continue. He gives me a small, encouraging smile. “You can tell me anything.” I take a breath and blurt it all out: “I’m a man, despite what my gods’ determined sex implies. If you could just… keep referring to me as a man even when we’re private, I would appreciate it.” I let out the breath I was holding, not eager to see how Niall reacts to the news. But when I finally look at him, his eyes are filled with emotion. “I’m sorry if I’ve ever hurt you with my words.” “It’s fine, you didn’t know.” “I didn’t but–” He wanted to. He wanted to be there for me from the start. He sighs. “Thank you for telling me.” \<<elseif $gender is "nonbinary">> “I want to talk to you about something,” I start, not sure how to continue. He gives me a small, encouraging smile. “You can tell me anything.” I take a breath and blurt it all out: “I’ve never felt that my sex defines me. To be called a man on a daily basis has taken a toll on me. I’m not just a man. I’m more than that, I’m not just that, I’m…” I sigh. “It’s difficult to explain.” He frowns, clearly processing my words. “You're not your sex?” “No.” He looks uncomfortable, somehow. Or perhaps like he’s deep in thought. “What are you thinking?” “Nothing bad!” he says, fearing that I’d think the worst. “I just…” He searches for words with his hands, unsure how to continue. “I… think I understand what you mean.” I give him a small smile. “Really?” “I think so.” I'm not sure if he's just saying that but at least his features seem earnest enough. I suppose it's nice to feel seen and understood. <</if>>\ [[Continue|ch6_n_peoplelikeyou]]

He seems stressed. Better help him take his mind off things. I rise up from the water to give him a good view of my chest. To his credit, he manages to maintain eye contact despite a hue of redness creeping up to his cheeks. I give him a small, sneaky smile before I start massaging my chest. It hurts, but seeing his face is worth it. He glances at my hands and clears his throat as blood surges to his cheeks. But then, his embarrassment is replaced by worry. His voice is husky as he says, “Your skin looks so irritated.” “What?” “The rash is diabolical,” he says with determination as his confidence slowly starts crawling back to him. He leans towards the small shelf containing an array of clay and glass vials. He picks up something, fumbles, and immediately after the vial lies shattered on the marble floor. “Gabh transna ort fhéin!” he growls at the shards. He starts to clean up, then curses even louder, and turns to look at this bleeding finger with contempt. “You alright?” I ask. “Yes!” he all but snarls, looks at me, then sighs. “I’m sorry. Yes. I… made a mess of things.” [["I can lick the blood clean," I helpfully offer.|c6_n_letmelickit]] [["Does it hurt? Are you alright?"|c6_n_youok?]]

He sighs and wraps his bleeding finger with a small cloth. “No, it’s fine. Just a scratch.” “You’re not going to die on me?” “It would serve me right for being so clumsy.” “Don’t say that.” He gives me a small, apologetic smile. “I just hate to be like this.” “Be you?” He lets out a cackle of laughter, a self-deprecating one. “Let’s just focus on you now, alright?” “But–” “You’re here with your terrible rash, I want to help you. Please let me.” He turns back to the shelf and picks another vial. “I would’ve preferred the other one but this is almost as effective,” he says as he hands it to me with his uninjured hand. [[Continue|c6_n_myself]]

“Gods above!” he exhales in frustration. “No!” “I was just trying to be helpful.” “No! Stay away from my finger!” I start laughing at his outburst and, despite his annoyance, there’s a small smile tugging at the corners of his lips. “You’re impossible,” he sighs and wraps a cloth to his bleeding finger. “You like it.” “No,” he says and a small smile betrays his lie. “You’re going to have to spread the cream on yourself,” he says. “You were going to help before your accident?” He looks away with almost a sneaky smile on his face. “Of course not.” He turns back to the shelf and picks another vial. “I would’ve preferred the other one but this is almost as effective,” he says as he hands it to me with his uninjured hand. [[Continue|c6_n_myself]]

“Yes you do, sweetie. Now get into the pool.” He mutters under his breath and quickly dips into the water. Now his face is red with anger and embarrassment. He shields himself from my view and looks away. He looks extremely uncomfortable. I give him a long, inspecting look. “What?” he asks in a small voice. “Nothing,” I say. It’s difficult to say what his aim is with that claim but, for now, I have other things to worry about. [[Continue|c6_n_pool]]

I’m not sure if I believe him or not and, frankly, it doesn’t matter. I’m just here to wash. He purses his lips at my comment but quickly obeys, slipping into the pool as quickly as possible. He shields himself from my view and looks away. He looks extremely uncomfortable. “Do you want me to look away?” I ask. “No, it’s fine. I’m just… Don’t worry about it.” He gives me a quick smile but it’s clear that it’s a fake one, meant to appease me. “Are you sure?” “Yes. Don’t worry.” Something to fish out of him later, perhaps? [[Continue|c6_n_pool]]

“Don’t say it like you don’t believe me at all!” He pouts as he quickly slips into the pool. He looks extremely uncomfortable. I give him a long, inspecting look. “What?” he asks in a small voice. “Nothing,” I say. It’s difficult to say what his aim is with that claim but, for now, I have other things to worry about. [[Continue|c6_n_pool]]

“I saw a big tattoo,” he says, clearly hesitant to bring it up. “What is it?” “The mark of my gods. I’m a druid from Caledonia,” I say. “A druid… From Caledonia,” he repeats the words, trying his hardest to make sense of it all. When another wagon finally hits him, he lets out a long, painful groan. “So, it’s not enough that you could be killed because of… //that//.” He wildly gestures at my bindings. “You could also be killed because you’re the druid of the enemy?” “That’s the gist of it, yes.” Another long, agonizing groan. “I think I need to lie down.” Then, when the third wagon hits him, his eyes widen. “Your family… They were all murdered?” “Indeed. They’re quite dead,” I say in a dry tone, slightly bothered by his casual question. As if it’s like asking what’s the weather. And he realizes this, for his face quickly turns red. “Why did I say it like that? Gods, I’m so sorry.” “I think you should take a breath.” “Of course, you’re right.” He lets out a long exhale and closes his eyes. “You’re too kind." \<<if (($sex is "female") and ($cis isnot true))>> He rubs the back of his neck, his gaze graciously avoiding my chest. “You said that there’s more to it? What did you mean?” “We can talk about it more when my bindings don’t torture my skin." \<<elseif (($sex is "female") and ($cis is true))>> He rubs the back of his neck, his gaze graciously avoiding my chest. "We talk more when my bindings don’t torture my skin." <</if>>\ His eyes widen. “Oh my gods! Here I am, prolonging your suffering. Please, take those things off!” I will. But what will he do in the meantime? [[Continue|c6_n_joinbath?]]

\<<if (($gender is "transwoman") or ($gender is "transman"))>> “Anyway, uh… I’ve heard there are people like you,” he starts, his gaze wondering. “I mean, not that you’re something to gawk at. I mean you’re nice to look at but I didn’t mean it like that and–” He trips over his words, as he usually does. It’s an already familiar habit of his. <</if>>\ “When did you know? About yourself? I mean, if it’s not rude to ask.” \<<if $gender is "transwoman">> “Ever since I can remember. As a child, I bit a foreign chieftain who called me a boy.” He lets out a laugh. “You bit a sovereign?” “He demanded my head, it was a whole thing.” I smirk at the memory. “But my father defended me. He always did.” \<<elseif $gender is "transman">> “Ever since I can remember. As a child, I bit a foreign chieftain who called me a girl.” He lets out a laugh. “You bit a sovereign?” “He demanded my head, it was a whole thing.” I smirk at the memory. “But my father defended me. He always did.” \<<elseif $gender is "nonbinary">> “I’ve always known. It’s just who I am. And father always made sure that I’m able to express myself however I please.” <</if>>\ There’s an almost fond smile on Niall’s face as he looks at me. “I’m glad you were raised in a way that lets you express yourself freely.” A shadow crosses his gaze and the smile wavers. He’s had issues with that himself? “Romans seem strict when it comes to how men and women should act,” I say. Niall scoffs, and the disdain is clearly aimed at Rome itself. “Do they ever. I mean, I’m not complaining. It’s just a little exhausting at times.” He flexes his arm, studies his well maintained nails. [["I like your nails."|c6_n_nicenails]] [[I look at my own dirty nails. I like them as they are.|c6_n_dirtynails]]

He beams at me. “Thank you. I can do yours if you want to.” “I’d like that.” I look at my nails that have been muddied in ditches. “The situation is pretty bad.” “We’ll make it right,” he promises as he gives me another smile, warm and freely affectionate. Then, when he seemingly realizes that he’s been looking at me for too long, his gaze quickly darts away, as if he’s almost… scared. [[“Does this bother you? Sharing a bath with me?”]]

He notices what I’m looking at and leans in to see my nails. With a pained grimace, he says, “We must do your nails.” “No, thank you.” He looks at my nails another time and the grimace deepens. “But…” “You’re not touching my nails.” He pouts. “Fine.” But he keeps looking at me with a fond smile on his face. Then, when he seemingly realizes that he’s been looking at me for too long, his gaze quickly darts away, as if he’s almost… scared. [[“Does this bother you? Sharing a bath with me?”]]

The bindings have wreak havoc on my back and I'm not looking forward to him touching me there. There’s a scent of vinegar in the air that mixes with something floral and spicy as he opens the vial. I brace myself for his touch with clenched teeth. “I will be careful,” he promises. He is. When he starts to spread the cream on me, his touch is as light as a feather. However, it still hurts. \<<if $fire is true>> “Ah! Fuck!” I yelp and flinch away from him. “I’m so sorry!” With a resigned sigh, I retreat back to him. “It’s fine.” “I promise I’ll be more careful.” “You already promised that.” “I’m sorry. I didn’t realize it was that bad.” \<<elseif $earth is true>> I steel my muscles and try to bear with the pain, with the daggers on my back. “It hurts?” he asks. “No.” Despite my words, he lets go of me, giving me time to adjust to his touch, to the cream. \<<elseif $air is true>> I let out a puff of pained air and try to think of something else than the daggers of pain on my back. Niall reads my reaction right and gives me time to adjust to his touch, to the cream. \<<elseif $water is true>> “Ah, it hurts a lot,” I say while trying not to flee his touch. “I’m sorry,” he says and lets me go, giving me time to adjust to his touch, to the cream. <</if>>\ After the initial surge of pain, the ointment slowly starts to relieve some of the aching on my skin. It makes me sigh in relief. Give it to Niall to have the right medicine on hand to give me relief. “It’s getting better?” “Much better, thank you.” He takes care not to touch my injured skin any more than necessary. He’s good at what he does. [["You're used to this?" I ask. I'm not jealous. Not at all.|c6_n_more?]] [[Remain silent.|c6_n_letitbee]]

“Hm? Well, yes.” There’s awkwardness in his tone. “I am.” “How is that?” “Hati,” he starts. “Do you really want to talk about that?” “I asked, didn’t I?” He sighs, his touch losing some of its firmness. “I’m used to this, yes. There are many people in this town that I’ve helped with my lotions.” “You spread it on them personally?” He lets out a ragged sigh. “Some of them.” “The prettiest ones?” Why am I asking? “Hati,” he says and lets go of me. “I’m not going to talk about this.” I purse my lips at his refusal. Perhaps it’s for the better. "Let's talk about something else," he adds while his gaze darts away from my naked form. He seems uncomfortable. [[“Does this bother you? Sharing a bath with me?”]]

I doubt he wants to talk about it. I’m not sure if I even want to know. He finishes my back and lets go of me. “Done and done.” “Thank you.” Again, he tries not to look at me. [[“Does this bother you? Sharing a bath with me?”]]

Seeing his sincere gaze aimed straight at me when he speaks like that makes me self-conscious. It’s as if he sees the darkness in me. \<<if $determined is true>> And there’s so much of it. So much that I could drown in it if I wasn’t careful. He sees it and he wants to save me from it. The thought is foolish, yet… Nice. Somehow. \<<elseif $manipulated is true>> It’s there within me even if I don’t want it there. It’s there devouring me alive. He sees it and he wants to save me from it. <</if>>\ I give him a small, grateful smile. “Thank you,” I say again. In an instant, he returns the smile. “You’re welcome.” The comfortable silence lingers for a moment longer. Then, little by little, the smile on his face starts to vanish. “There’s something I’ve been wanting to talk with you about.” [[Continue|c6_n_revengetalk]]

\<<set $niall_user to true>> I give him a small, wavering smile. “Thank you. That makes me feel safer.” And he gives me an oblivious smile in return, completely believing my every word. “Just call me and I will be there,” he promises. “I will.” Then, he sighs with his shoulders sagging. “There is something we need to talk about.” I give him a raise of my brow. Something about his tone of voice is curious. He’s serious. [[Continue|c6_n_revengetalk]]

His whole frame hardens against my touch. Finally, when he grows more used to my closeness, he grows soft and pillowy. He’s so soft when he’s not tense and anxious. It’s like I’m buried deep within him, his strong arms protecting me from the outside world. “You’re strong,” he says. “You’ve survived so much.” I focus on his touch, his words. His hushed voice. The scent of herbs and something so sweet it almost makes me stop breathing. I nuzzle my face against his chest to wipe my tears. I don’t want him to see them. Even if he probably wouldn’t hold them against me. Finally, almost reluctantly, I leave his warmth. The air feels cold on my damp skin. He gives me the warmest smile as a farewell. “Feeling better?” Embarrassing. I look away. There’s a long silence as I try to come to terms with the fact that I showed so much to him. The truth is out, my emotions laid bare. \<<if $niall_user is true>> I shouldn’t have given out so much. Our relationship is now imbalanced. He knows more about me than I do of him. The roles should be reversed, instead. It’s a concerning situation. “$name?” My true name rolls out of his tongue like it belongs there. It’s concerning, too. “What?” I ask reluctantly. He sighs deeply with his shoulders sagging. “There is something we need to talk about.” I give him a raise of my brow. At least the change of subject is welcomed. However, something about his tone of voice is curious. He’s serious. [[Continue|c6_n_revengetalk]] \<<else>> Does it matter? Should I care that he knows so much about me? He hasn’t shown any sign of betraying me. Well, now would be the perfect time to do so, he knows so much. I give him a careful look and he’s quick to give me a smile. A smile that almost makes me feel ridiculous that I’m doubting him. But I’m in constant danger, of course I should doubt him. It’s only sensible. I barely know this man. “$name,” he says. “I understand that you’d doubt me. I can see it.” There’s no denying it. “And there’s nothing I can say to make it better. I can only show you. And hope that you will let me.” I nod, unsure what else to say. And he nods back at me, still wearing the same smile. Then, little by little, the smile starts to vanish. “But there’s something I’ve been wanting to talk with you about.” [[Continue|c6_n_revengetalk]] <</if>>\

Annoyance fuels my movements as I break free from the hug. “Don’t,” I warn him. Don’t touch me without permission. I do not like to be touched. Not right now. “I’m so sorry,” he says and he does look sorry. “You were crying and I just acted on impulse.” I squeeze my eyes shut. Managing my sensory input always helps with the surge of unwanted emotions. Niall sighs. “I’m sorry, I don’t think that hugs from a damp naked man was on your to do list for the day.” I open my eyes to see him rub his neck. “I’m just not much of a hugger." “Are you Tinsae’s cat?” He smiles hesitantly, as if afraid that he’d scare me away. Like a cat. Then, he adds, “You are cute as a cat.” He looks away to hide his flushed cheeks. “Anyway, I'm sorry, I won’t do it again,” he promises and his tone rings sincere. We’ll see. But there’s something about this bugging me, other than his unwelcome touch. There’s a long silence as I try to come to terms with the fact that I showed so much to him. The truth is out, my emotions laid bare. \<<if $niall_user is true>> I shouldn’t have given out so much. Our relationship is now imbalanced. He knows more about me than I do of him. The roles should be reversed, instead. It’s a concerning situation. “$name?” My true name rolls out of his tongue like it belongs there. It’s concerning, too. “What?” I ask reluctantly. He sighs deeply with his shoulders sagging. “There is something we need to talk about.” I give him a raise of my brow. At least the change of subject is welcomed. However, something about his tone of voice is curious. He’s serious. \<<else>> Does it matter? Should I care that he knows so much about me? He hasn’t shown any sign of betraying me. Well, now would be the perfect time to do so, he knows so much. I give him a careful look and he’s quick to give me a smile. A smile that almost makes me feel ridiculous that I’m doubting him. But I’m in constant danger, of course I should doubt him. It’s only sensible. I barely know this man. “$name,” he says. “I understand that you’d doubt me. I can see it.” There’s no denying it. “And there’s nothing I can say to make it better. I can only show you. And hope that you will let me.” I nod, unsure what else to say. And he nods back at me, still wearing the same smile. Then, little by little, the smile starts to vanish. “But there’s something I’ve been wanting to talk with you about.” <</if>> [[Continue|c6_n_revengetalk]]

Anger fueling my movements, I break free from the hug before giving him a snarl. “I–,” he starts. “If you say you’re sorry I swear to the Twins–” He opens his mouth, closes it, then opens again but nothing but air comes out. I try to calm my breathing, taking deep breaths. My heart pounds against my chest. “I’m sorry,” he says, despite my warnings. “I didn’t realize.” I squeeze my eyes shut. Managing my sensory input always helps. Now, with a more controlled voice I say, “Now you know.” “I do.” And he will act accordingly. But there’s something about this bugging me, other than his unwelcome touch. There’s a long silence as I try to come to terms with the fact that I showed so much to him. The truth is out, my emotions laid bare. \<<if $niall_user is true>> I shouldn’t have given out so much. Our relationship is now imbalanced. He knows more about me than I do of him. The roles should be reversed, instead. It’s a concerning situation. “$name?” My true name rolls out of his tongue like it belongs there. It’s concerning, too. “What?” I ask reluctantly. He sighs deeply with his shoulders sagging. “There is something we need to talk about.” I give him a raise of my brow. At least the change of subject is welcomed. However, something about his tone of voice is curious. He’s serious. \<<else>> Does it matter? Should I care that he knows so much about me? He hasn’t shown any sign of betraying me. Well, now would be the perfect time to do so, he knows so much. I give him a careful look and he’s quick to give me a smile. A smile that almost makes me feel ridiculous that I’m doubting him. But I’m in constant danger, of course I should doubt him. It’s only sensible. I barely know this man. “$name,” he says. “I understand that you’d doubt me. I can see it.” There’s no denying it. “And there’s nothing I can say to make it better. I can only show you. And hope that you will let me.” I nod, unsure what else to say. And he nods back at me, still wearing the same smile. Then, little by little, the smile starts to vanish. “But there’s something I’ve been wanting to talk with you about.” <</if>> [[Continue|c6_n_revengetalk]]

It’s as if the weeks’ worth of fear and sorrow all flood onto Niall’s wide chest. I grab his arm and it hardens in surprise against my touch. Finally, he grows more used to my closeness. He grows soft and pillowy. He’s so soft when he’s not tense and anxious. It’s like I’m buried deep within him, his strong arms protecting me from the outside world. “You’re strong,” he says. “You’ve survived so much.” I focus on his touch, his words. His hushed voice. The scent of herbs and something so sweet it almost makes me stop breathing. I nuzzle my face against his chest to wipe my tears. I don’t want him to see them. Even if he probably wouldn’t hold them against me. Finally, almost reluctantly, I leave his warmth. The air feels cold on my damp skin. He gives me the warmest smile as a farewell. “Feeling better?” “A little,” I admit. I don’t know how I ended up crying in his embrace. Embarrassing. I look away. There’s a long silence as I try to come to terms with the fact that I showed so much to him. The truth is out, my emotions laid bare. \<<if $niall_user is true>> I shouldn’t have given out so much. Our relationship is now imbalanced. He knows more about me than I do of him. The roles should be reversed, instead. It’s a concerning situation. “$name?” My true name rolls out of his tongue like it belongs there. It’s concerning, too. “What?” I ask reluctantly. He sighs deeply with his shoulders sagging. “There is something we need to talk about.” I give him a raise of my brow. At least the change of subject is welcomed. However, something about his tone of voice is curious. He’s serious. [[Continue|c6_n_revengetalk]] \<<else>> Does it matter? Should I care that he knows so much about me? He hasn’t shown any sign of betraying me. Well, now would be the perfect time to do so, he knows so much. I give him a careful look and he’s quick to give me a smile. A smile that almost makes me feel ridiculous that I’m doubting him. But I’m in constant danger, of course I should doubt him. It’s only sensible. I barely know this man. “$name,” he says. “I understand that you’d doubt me. I can see it.” There’s no denying it. “And there’s nothing I can say to make it better. I can only show you. And hope that you will let me.” I nod, unsure what else to say. And he nods back at me, still wearing the same smile. Then, little by little, the smile starts to vanish. “But there’s something I’ve been wanting to talk with you about.” [[Continue|c6_n_revengetalk]] <</if>>\

My voice is small and emotionless as I let him hug me. It’s not that I needed a hug. No. He looked like he needed a hug. He looked like he needed to comfort me. Not me. His whole frame hardens against my touch. Finally, when he grows more used to my closeness, he grows soft and pillowy. He’s so soft when he’s not tense and anxious. It’s like I’m buried deep within him, his strong arms protecting me from the outside world. I don’t need protection. But it’s still nice. Finally, almost reluctantly, I leave his warmth. The air feels cold on my damp skin. He gives me the warmest smile as a farewell. “Feeling better?” “I didn’t need to feel better,” I remind him. It was all for him. “Ah, of course.” He gives me an infuriating smile, like he doesn’t believe me. With an annoyed sigh, I start to think about the situation I’m in. The truth is out. \<<if $niall_user is true>> I shouldn’t have given out so much. Our relationship is now imbalanced. He knows more about me than I do of him. The roles should be reversed, instead. It’s a concerning situation. “$name?” My true name rolls out of his tongue like it belongs there. It’s concerning, too. “What?” I ask reluctantly. He sighs deeply with his shoulders sagging. “There is something we need to talk about.” I give him a raise of my brow. At least the change of subject is welcomed. However, something about his tone of voice is curious. He’s serious. \<<else>> Does it matter? Should I care that he knows so much about me? He hasn’t shown any sign of betraying me. Well, now would be the perfect time to do so, he knows so much. I give him a careful look and he’s quick to give me a smile. A smile that almost makes me feel ridiculous that I’m doubting him. But I’m in constant danger, of course I should doubt him. It’s only sensible. I barely know this man. “$name,” he says. “I understand that you’d doubt me. I can see it.” There’s no denying it. “And there’s nothing I can say to make it better. I can only show you. And hope that you will let me.” I nod, unsure what else to say. And he nods back at me, still wearing the same smile. Then, little by little, the smile starts to vanish. “But there’s something I’ve been wanting to talk with you about.” <</if>> [[Continue|c6_n_revengetalk]]

I throw him a stare to keep him away from me. “Are you sure?” As an answer, I keep staring at him. He remains in place, looking awkwardly to the side. Finally, after a long moment of silence, he sighs deeply with his shoulders sagging. “There’s something we have to talk about.” “I’m not going to hug you.” He lets out a laugh. “It’s not that.” Immediately after, his smile vanishes. [[Continue|c6_n_revengetalk]]

My voice is small and emotionless as I let him hug me. Maybe I needed the hug. Why else would I enter the embrace? I’m not sure. Sometimes it feels like I’m acting without a thought, just automatically doing what I’m told but not thinking about it. I do have to admit that this is nice. His whole frame hardens against my touch. Finally, when he grows more used to my closeness, he grows soft and pillowy. He’s so soft when he’s not tense and anxious. It’s like I’m buried deep within him, his strong arms protecting me from the outside world. I don’t think I need protection. But it’s still nice. Finally, almost reluctantly, I leave his warmth. The air feels cold on my damp skin. He gives me the warmest smile as a farewell. “Feeling better?” “I think so. Thank you.” The smile still lingers on his features when he looks at me. And I look back at him as I start to think about the situation I’m in. The truth is out. \<<if $niall_user is true>> I shouldn’t have given out so much. Our relationship is now imbalanced. He knows more about me than I do of him. The roles should be reversed, instead. It’s a concerning situation. “$name?” My true name rolls out of his tongue like it belongs there. It’s concerning, too. “What?” I ask reluctantly. He sighs deeply with his shoulders sagging. “There is something we need to talk about.” I give him a raise of my brow. At least the change of subject is welcomed. However, something about his tone of voice is curious. He’s serious. \<<else>> Does it matter? Should I care that he knows so much about me? He hasn’t shown any sign of betraying me. Well, now would be the perfect time to do so, he knows so much. I give him a careful look and he’s quick to give me a smile. A smile that almost makes me feel ridiculous that I’m doubting him. But I’m in constant danger, of course I should doubt him. It’s only sensible. I barely know this man. “$name,” he says. “I understand that you’d doubt me. I can see it.” There’s no denying it. “And there’s nothing I can say to make it better. I can only show you. And hope that you will let me.” I nod, unsure what else to say. And he nods back at me, still wearing the same smile. Then, little by little, the smile starts to vanish. “But there’s something I’ve been wanting to talk with you about.” <</if>> [[Continue|c6_n_revengetalk]]

My words are polite and distant as my mind keeps blanking. “Are you sure?” “Positive.” He remains in place, looking awkwardly to the side. I say, “We could talk about something else.” When in doubt, change the topic. He sighs deeply with his shoulders sagging. “There is indeed something we need to talk about.” “You’ve piqued my curiosity.” [[Continue|c6_n_revengetalk]]

His sincere gaze makes me forget myself. Forget that I don’t really know him. Seeing him smile almost makes me feel that I do. Feeling his touch on my naked skin makes me wonder. The eye contact is long and grows increasingly awkward. His gaze shifts to his hand on my shoulder. With a yelp, he lets go of me. “I’m sorry,” he mutters. Did I mind that he touched me unpromptedly? Judging by the heat creeping to my cheeks, I quite liked it. How foolish of me. Awkward silence lingers for a moment longer before he gathers the courage to speak. [[Continue|c6_n_name]]

My mind is determined as I step out of the pool. Of course Quinn was keeping things from me but I don’t think I expected this. “Uh, I had a good bath with you?” Niall says after me as I put my clothes on. I mutter him goodbye and leave. “Bye!” Niall yelps after me. [[Continue|Back at the barracks.]]

My hand shakes and I frown at it. Am I afraid of Quinn? Or am I afraid of what I will hear? Either way, my hand keeps shaking. Suddenly, my shaking hand is encased in Niall’s warm palms. His eyes are filled with worry as he looks at me. “Are you sure you’re alright?” I take my hand back. “I’m fine.” Perfectly fine. He looks a little defeat. He knows something is wrong and I’m not telling him. “I will tell you later,” I say absentmindedly. My thoughts are filled with the images of blood. “Alright. Just… please remember that you can tell me anything.” “Sure.” With a small smile, I step out of the pool, and put my clothes on. I give Niall one last look and he quickly gives me one last smile. “I had a nice bath with you,” he says. I mutter something and leave. It’s time to meet Quinn. [[Continue|Back at the barracks.]]

“Yes, I already told you so,” he says with a frown. It seems that he’s telling the truth. It really bothers him. “I can’t touch you like that. I see things that will happen to you if I will.” “You see my eventual decapitation?” My words are dry. And he frowns even deeper at the sound of it. “Yes. I don’t value your life so lightly.” He gets up, ignoring his state of nakedness. “I don’t think this is funny, $name.” “It’s not,” I admit and look away. He’s clearly not in the mood. He sighs as his demeanor softens. “I will see you later. You can be here as long as you want.” “Thanks,” I say, trying to shake off the feeling of being rejected. He gives me one final smile and leaves. [[Continue|Back at the barracks.]]

“You do?” He sighs in clear relief. With a little apologizing smile on his face he still gets up and starts to dress. “I should… go. If it’s alright with you.” “I won’t keep you.” The thought is amusing. Would he really stay if I told him to? “Anyway, yes. Thank you. I will…” He gestures at the door. “Go now. But you can stay as long as you’d like.” “Thanks.” [[Continue|Back at the barracks.]]

There isn’t much to say. He’s already made his mind and I should probably focus on Quinn, for now. Niall waits for some kind of response before getting up. He rakes his wet hair as he looks at me, clearly trying to find the right words. “I’m sorry.” He lets out a self deprecating laugh. “I know I keep saying that. But it’s true. I am. For many things.” I give him a shrug and it seems to be sufficient enough for him to leave. “I’ll see you later, alright?” he says. “Sure.” Hearing my words makes him smile widely. “Yes. Well, anyway.” He gestures at the door. “Go now. But you can stay as long as you’d like.” [[Continue|Back at the barracks.]]

His eyes widen at my crude words. He shifts away from me, shaking his head. “I think we’re done here.” I purse my lips and look away. “It seems so.” He gets up and starts putting on his clothes. He clearly starts to say something, thinks on it, and remains silent. Then, finally, without a word, he leaves. I sigh at the water. Maybe I shouldn’t have put it so harshly. I can always apologize later if I feel like it. [["Did you just slutshame my brother?"]]

Marcus.

I suppose it makes sense for him to be afraid of that. They would kill me if they found out about our relationship, should it grow even closer. However, the fact that he does fear for my life is nice enough, I suppose. He gives me a small, sad smile. “I’m sorry for being such a downer. Let’s talk about something else, alright?” [[Continue|c6_n_quinn]]

He’s good at what he does. Despite this, the rest of him stay as far away from me as he physically can. He clearly doesn’t want to touch me with anything else than his hands. “Niall?” “Hm?” “Why are you so far away?” “Oh.” He clears his throat. “It’s just more comfortable for me. Sorry.” Even if he seems uncomfortable, his hands work swiftly and with confidence. Yet, there’s a level of detachment in his touch. [["You're used to this?" I ask. I'm not jealous. Not at all.|c6_n_more?]] [[Remain silent.|c6_n_letitbee]]

“Ah! What are you doing?!” “You asked me to take it off!” he shouts back at me. “Not immediately! Ugh, just get into the pool.” The water splashes as he gets in. His face is completely red when I turn to look at him. “I’m sorry,” he mutters. “I’m not usually like this.” “Like… what?" “Like this. I need you to know that I’m usually more confident.” I look at him in confusion. He shakes his head. “Never mind.” [[Continue|c6_n_pool]]

He blinks at my response. “No?” “No, I don’t want to look away.” He pouts. “I’m not your prized pig to behold.” I snort at the mental image. “But I want to appreciate your form. Pretty please?” “My form?” He looks at his revealed, muscular thighs, as if checking they’re still there. “Fine,” he finally mutters. He starts taking his tunic off, his movement spiced with spite. [[Continue|naked_niall]]

He blinks at my response. “No?” “No, I don’t want to look away.” Heat still lingers on my cheeks but I don’t mind it. He pouts. “I’m not your prized pig to behold.” I snort at the mental image. “But I want to appreciate your form. Pretty please?” “My form?” He looks at his revealed, muscular thighs, as if checking they’re still there. “Fine,” he finally mutters. He starts taking his tunic off, his movement spiced with spite. [[Continue|naked_niall]]

I flex my bicep as I wash it and give him a cheeky grin. \<<if $build is "muscular">> He gives me an appreciative nod. “Who’s bigger?” he asks as he pops up his own bicep with a playful grin. I sneak closer to his arm and we take measure. “Mine,” I declare. He laughs. “They’re the same size!” “No, no, mine is bigger.” “Fine, you win. You need to show me your workout routine later. So I can keep up.” \<<else>> “Oh?” he says with a smile dancing on his lips. “That’s a cute little bicep.” “Cute?” I frown. “Very cute,” he says as his smile turns into a grin. He pops up his own bicep and, to no one’s surprise, it’s huge. I groan at the sight. “Well compared to that monster, sure.” He bursts out laughing. “You need to join me in my workout routine, sometime.” <</if>>\ He gives me a warm and meaningful look. Then, as if he’s realizing that he’s staring, he looks away with a hue of redness lingering on his cheeks. He shifts away from me. Absent-mindedly, he opens a jar of oil and starts rubbing his skin with it. The oil looks like something my skin would benefit from, too. [["Want to spread that on me, too?" I ask with a smirk.|c6_n_helpsmirk?]] [["Want to spread that on me, too?" I ask, trying to appear nonchalant about it.|c6_n_nonchalanthelp]] [["Can I have some of that?" I will spread it on myself.|c6_n_myself]]

\<<set $niall_angry_left to true>> I take deep breaths as I walk away with my hair still wet. Who does he think he is? Trying to ‘save’ me? I don't need saving, much less his. Then, a voice stops me in my tracks. “Did you seriously think that he’d be in on your little revenge fantasy?” An all too familiar voice mocks me. I should’ve known he’d stay here for the show. I turn to face the man I’d rather not see right now. Or never, for that matter. “What are you doing here?” I ask. Marcus smiles like he’s in on a joke only he knows of. “To see you make a fool of yourself.” “I see only one fool.” “I’m not here trying to get honorable Tribunes to get in on my murder plots.” I could just leave. [["Fuck off." I leave.|c6_n_leave]] [["I don't need to listen to this." I leave.|c6_n_leave1]] [[No. I will torture him first.|c6_n_noleaveyestorture]]

I throw a tired insult at him and leave. I’ve had enough of everything for this evening. Predictably, he remains unfazed by my words. Instead, he says, “Good night, Hati.” I roll my eyes at the sarcastic wishes and walk away. [[Continue|Back at the barracks.]]

But before I can, he says, “You don’t need to but do you want to?” He leans against the doorway with his arms crossed. “No,” I answer coldly and leave him to his vices. [[Continue|Back at the barracks.]]

“He’ll warm up to the idea.” I stretch my newly bathed limbs and give him a cruel smile. Marcus perks up, probably not expecting that I’d play along. He sizes me and my threat up. “You really think so? My gold-hearted baby brother, indulging in your little murder dreams?” His voice is amused. But there’s a layer of worry in his words that I smell like blood in the water. Fear. What if I were able to manipulate his brother to look away? To even help me? To help me open doors, to expose weaknesses. “You’re worried,” I say and my smile doesn’t falter. If anything, it grows and I barely notice I’m baring my teeth at him. He doesn’t flinch. I didn’t expect him to. Not yet. “If I was worried, you’d be dead,” he retorts. It's still a playful threat. And an empty one at that. “If you wanted to kill me, I’d already be dead. There’s something preventing you from doing it.” Still I smile as I probe him. “Is it guilt? Is your disgusting heart even capable of feeling guilt?” I take a step closer and his leg twitches ever so slightly. He almost took a step back and seeing it makes me so happy. He grimaces at his treacherous limb, baring his teeth like a wolf before looking at me. “Leave him alone,” he demands, his stance tall and frigid, his voice slowly losing the sense of playfulness. We’re standing too close to each other, so close that I could easily bury my knife in his belly. And the thought makes me smile. He looks at my curled lips. And he swallows. How easily I can see his weaknesses this close. “You look insane,” he says. “You made me.” Another gulp, even more visible this time. [["Quinn told me about you," I start.|c6_n_quinntold]] [[Keep looking at him.|c6_n_keeplooking]] [[Step away.|c6_n_stepaway]]

Disgust flashes through him. “What did the creep say?” “$q_He told me how much you hate yourself. Is it because of what happened?” I keep looking at him. “What you did to me?” His jaw tightens. “No.” “You’re lying.” “Why would I care about that? I’ve killed many. Why would you be special?” Maybe I’m not. But something tells me that he’s lying. In any other instance, his words would’ve hurt me. But he’s lying. For some reason, he cares. And it hurts him. Good. That means I can twist the knife in his wound and watch him suffer. [[Kiss him.|c6_n_kissmarcus]] [["You're pathetic."|c6_n_patheticmarcus]]

No. Leave. This isn’t worth it. Wherever you thought this road was going to lead you to, don’t do it. I take a step away and there’s an almost disappointed look in Marcus’s face. Did he want me to hurt him? I stifle the urge to spit in his face. He would probably like it. “Stay out of my face,” I hiss with venom. “Since you asked so nicely,” he says with a small, defeated smile. “Good night, Hati.” I roll my eyes at the sarcastic good night wish and walk away. [[Continue|Back at the barracks.]]

I watch how his gaze peers into my eyes the same way it did when we first met in this miserable town. But this time I have no reason to fear. He can’t hurt me. //he can// There’s nothing he can do to surprise me, nothing he can– [[He grabs me.|c6_n_grab]] [[He tries to grab me.|c6_n_trygrab]]

\<<set $marcus_angry_kiss to true>> Suddenly, too suddenly for my brain to process, he grabs the back of my head with both of his hands, entrapping me, holding me in place. “What the–” Before I can properly protest, he shuts my mouth with his lips. My eyes are wide open as I look at his equally confused, widened gaze. It’s not the gaze of a predator. It’s the look of a man who doesn’t know what he’s doing. The kiss is unsure, sloppy, ready to break apart at any sudden movement. Nothing I expected from him. //expected?// No. No. I shouldn’t. He shouldn’t. [[Break the kiss and punch him.|c6_n_punchmarcus]] [[Break the kiss and slap him.|c6_n_slapmarcus]] [[Where's my knife?|c6_n_wheremyknife]] [[...Let him kiss me.|c6_n_lethim]] [[Deepen the pathetic kiss.|c6_n_deepenthekiss]]

He grabs the back of my neck with his lips threatening to close in on mine, but I’m faster than him. “What the–” I hiss and… [[Punch him.|c6_n_marcuspunch]] [[Spit at him.|c6_n_marcusspit]] [[Slap him.|c6_n_marcusslap]]

He doesn’t protest. Instead, he looks at me. I want him to know how much I hate him but there are no words. I cannot express it clearly. No matter how much I insult him, he just takes it all either like he doesn’t care or he deserves it. I– [[He grabs me.|c6_n_grab]] [[He tries to grab me.|c6_n_trygrab]]

The slap echoes through the empty hallway. Marcus holds his injured cheek with a look of nothing in his gaze. He expected this. Of course he did. He’s not a complete idiot, even if there’s evidence to the contrary. “Don’t ever do that again,” I say through my bared teeth. “Stay away from my brother,” he says, as if this is some kind of exchange. He kissed me because of Niall. It’s another one of his mind games. Good thing I didn’t fall for it. “It’s none of your business,” I say with venom in my words. And he accepts it. For now. Without another word, I leave him to his vices. [[Continue|Back at the barracks.]]

It wasn’t in my pile of clothes. I can’t feel it on me. How did I miss it? Marcus must’ve taken it when they arrived. The bastard. So, instead of stabbing him, I break the kiss and as he’s panting for air, I punch him. Hard. And he takes it. He takes it like he knew he deserved it. Blood pours from his nose. I think I broke it. [[Remain silent and look at him.|c6_n_remainsilentlook]] [["Sorry. I... No. You should be sorry for this."|c6_n_marcussorry]] [[Laugh at the sight of it.|c6_n_marcuslaugh]] [[Marvel at the sight of his blood.|c6_n_marvel]]

No no no, why? Is this part of the plan? Yes? To taste the lips of a man who took everything from me. Who killed them all, who– I let him hold me. I almost let myself indulge in his confused touch, almost let myself soften against him. But I can’t. [[I can't.|c6_n_marcuscan't]] [[Or can I?|c6_n_canI?]]

\<<set $marcus_angry_kiss to true>> With a snarl filled with hatred and anguish, I grab the back of his neck and deepen the kiss. Anger makes me click my teeth against his. He grunts in surprise, in confusion, and for a mere moment he tries to push me away, to prevent me from devouring him. But then, after a moment of hesitation, he answers the kiss in kind. He leans into me, leans into my hatred and bitterness. He grabs my arms but not with the sense of urgency and need I expected. No, it’s with a sense of timidness. And it almost makes me laugh. He’s afraid of me, of either breaking me or what I will do to him. I expected a wolf, not a docile dog. I break the kiss as quickly as I started it, leaving him gasping for air. “You’re pathetic.” He doesn’t protest. He is and he knows it. I continue with a small smile, “I will make Niall kill you for what you did.” “You’re insane.” “It’s a bet.” “This isn’t funny, you insane–” “It’s a little funny.” I keep smiling and give him a peck on his cheek. He draws in a sharp breath and is left looking at me. “See you at the fort, Lord Centurion,” I say and give him a careless little wave. He doesn’t follow me. It’s no wonder. I smile as I walk, but there’s something nagging me. Something saying that I went too far. Even if there are clearly reasons he won’t kill me, should I really push my luck with him? Niall and I aren’t that close yet. I shouldn’t place all my bets on him defending me, should Marcus want to try and murder me. I should lay low for a while. I should merely mess with Marcus’s head, and get closer to Niall. We’ll see later what happens. [[Continue|Back at the barracks.]]

His touch is awkward and almost unsure, as if he’s perplexed by his own actions. As if he doesn’t know And I’m just as confused. For why else would I let him hold the back of my neck like his hand belonged there? Like I didn’t mind it there. Like its warmth brought me any level of comfort. The urge to close my eyes almost wins over, the urge to give into this weird kiss that wasn’t meant to be, but I can’t listen to it. I look at him, I look at the man who took everything from me, and he looks back at me. He doesn’t challenge me with his gaze. He looks almost afraid. The kiss breaks slowly, without a fuss, like it was never there. The ghost of his touch still warms my lips. I bite my flesh to make it go away. Pain clears my mind, tensing my body, ridding myself of every trace of softness I let fester because of him. His whole frame is tense against mine, as if he’s readying himself for my reaction. [[Punch him.|c6_n_punchmarcus1]] [[What happened? Why did he kiss me? What?|c6_n_confusedmarcus]]

My hand that wraps behind his neck tells me otherwise. He grunts against my lips as I yank him closer. I deepen the kiss, deeply loathing the sense of hesitation in his touch, demanding more from him. I deserve as much. After everything he did. After everything he did to me, he only gives me a timid, hesitant kiss? Fuck that. I hate everything he is and I want him to know that. I want him to taste the bitterness from my lips. He grabs a ball of my hair as he tastes my lips, tastes everything. He kisses me like he’s wanted to do this for months. He wanted to but he couldn’t. Because he took everything from me. [[Break the kiss and punch him.|c6_n_punchmarcus]] [[Moan against his lips.|c6_n_marcusmoan]] [[Break the kiss.|c6_n_breakthekiss]]

He answers my moan by grabbing my hips, pushing my pelvis closer against his. His growing erection against my thigh makes me inhale sharply. Inhale his scent of leather and sweat. Suddenly, he breaks the kiss with a startled look in his face. He looks at me with our noses almost touching, his breathing almost erratic. Then, he pushes me away. \<<if $build is "lithe">> I almost fall on my behind, barely managing to keep myself upward. \<<else>> I take a step back and look at him with a frown. <</if>>\ “What the–” He doesn’t say anything. He just shakes his head. He touches his lips and looks at me like he doesn’t know what to do or say. Then, without another word, he leaves. And I’m left with my muddied thoughts. There’s a part of me who wants to run after him and tackle him for what he did. But I don’t. Not this time. This time, I’m a mess of things, wondering what happened. Why did I let him kiss me? What’s wrong with me? Why did I enjoy it? Twins help me. This is all just an act, I remind myself. Nothing more, nothing less. I should probably try to enjoy it less but that’s neither here nor there. I should just… Leave. Now. [[Continue|Back at the barracks.]]

But it’s a punch diluted by confusion. Why did I let him kiss me for so long? What’s wrong with me? Did I enjoy it? The impact doesn’t really hurt him. I didn’t put my heart into it. Did I even want to? \<<if $fire is true>> And the fact makes me even more furious. I take another swing at him but this time he’s ready; he catches my fist. “I already gave you one swing, you’re too greedy,” he berates me. Hearing him talk like he usually does, makes my blood boil even hotter. I grab my fist back with a snarl. But the hatred is aimed more at myself than at him. If anyone, I should punch myself. Fuck, what’s wrong with me? Without another word, I stomp away. I can’t bear to look at his face any longer. “Good night, $name,” he says after me. My true name grates my ears and I’m half ready to take the third swing at him but I keep walking. //he’s not worth it he’s not worth it// I leave. \<<elseif $earth is true>> Something within me wants to punch his lights out but I don’t listen to its roars, not anymore. Instead, I look at him. And he looks back at me. It’s as if there’s no words to express how I feel about this. The half-hearted swing didn’t really express it, either. So, I give him nothing. And, with confusion muddying my thoughts, I leave without a word. “Good night, $name,” he says after me. My true name grates my ears but I don’t let him have his reaction. I’m done. I leave. \<<elseif $air is true>> It seems that I did, for why else would I let him do that to me? The thought leaves me confused as I look at him without seeing him. I let him kiss me. I shouldn’t be here. “Don’t touch Niall,” he says. I barely hear his words, my mind is elsewhere, curled up in a corner wondering how I let this happen. Without uttering another word, I start walking away. “Good night, $name.” Not even my true name triggers a reaction out of me. I just keep walking. Away from him. \<<elseif $water is true>> I almost mutter that I’m sorry. And it confuses me even more. Why would I ask for his forgiveness? He should suffer for what he did, a punch in the face is the least he deserves. Especially after kissing me like that. I touch my lip with my other hand, confusion muddying my mind. “Why?” I ask. “Don’t touch Niall,” he says. It’s about him. I should’ve known. “All of this? For him?” I ask, my words almost fragile with emotion. He looks away, not offering me an answer. And I won’t stay here to let him gather himself when I’m a mess myself. I leave. <</if>>\ [[Continue|Back at the barracks.]]

“I–” I start but nothing comes out. He lingers for too long, looks at me with an unreadable expression. His hands still hold me in place. I don’t know what to say. I don’t know what to do. A part of me wants to lean in and kiss him again but that part of me is insane and I shouldn’t listen to it. “Don’t touch him,” he says again with command in his tone but the whisper makes it sound like a plea. He’s talking about Niall. “Did you… kiss me because of him?” He answers with a frown. It’s a face of confusion, as if he doesn’t even know himself. With a shake of my head, to clear my mind, I push him away. “Is this another game of yours?” Anger. At myself. At him. “No.” Another frown, more confused than the last. “I don’t know,” he admits. And it sounds so sincere it makes me want to vomit. I don’t want his sincerity. I don’t want anything from him. Wasn’t it supposed to be my game? What is this madness? Before I can make a fool of myself any more than I already did, I leave. I need to leave. [[Continue|Back at the barracks.]]

\<<set $marcus_punch to true>> His clutches aren’t as strong as I anticipated. I escape without effort. And punch him. Hard. And he takes it. He takes it like he knew he deserved it. Blood pours from his nose. I think I broke it. [[Remain silent and look at him.|c6_n_remainsilentlook]] [["Sorry. I... No. You should be sorry for almost kissing me."|c6_n_marcussorry]] [[Laugh at the sight of it.|c6_n_marcuslaugh]] [[Marvel at the sight of his blood.|c6_n_marvel]]

He nods without hesitation. “Yes.” Huh. Didn’t think he’d admit to it. Even when he’s wiping the blood off his face, he gives me a regretful gaze. “I’m…” He clears his throat. And I wait for him to say it. But nothing comes out. He must want me to fill in the blanks. I sigh in frustration. “I should go.” “Wait. There’s…” He straightens his back, gathering back his confidence. “Stay away from Niall.” Niall. He did this for him. \<<if $marcus_kiss is true>> "So, you kissed me because of him?" \<<else>> “So, you tried to kiss me because of him?” <</if>>\ He flinches at my words, at me recounting what he tried to do to me. And, reluctantly, he nods. Another one of his mind games. Good thing I didn’t fall for it. “It’s none of your business,” I say with venom in my words. And he accepts it. For now. Without another word, I leave him to his vices. [[Continue|Back at the barracks.]]

Giddiness takes hold of my body. I can’t help it, I don’t even want to. My whole body starts to twitch in laughter. And I let it all out. He winces at the sound of my laughter. It’s manic, high-pitched and grating not only his ears but my own. But he takes it. He doesn’t say anything. Finally, when the laughter dies and there’s nothing but chuckles left, he asks, “Do you feel better now that it’s all out?” “A little,” I admit. Seeing him spitting his own blood on the marble floor makes me smile. “Then listen to this, you ball of madness: Leave Niall alone.” \<<if $marcus_kiss is true>> "So, you kissed me because of him?" \<<else>> “So, you tried to kiss me because of him?” <</if>>\ He flinches at my words, at me recounting what he tried to do to me. And, reluctantly, he nods. Another one of his mind games. Good thing I didn’t fall for it. “We’ll see,” I say with a small smile and a careless shrug to accompany it. “You will–” “You will stay quiet and see what happens. Right, Lord Centurion?” He doesn’t answer. Instead, he wipes his blood in his blood-red tunic, revealing his flat stomach and his skin filled with scars. “Right,” I answer for him. “Now, it's high time for me to leave. Good night, Lord Centurion.” He doesn’t return my wishes. Utterly rude of him. [[Continue|Back at the barracks.]]

\<<set $psycho to true>> I look at his blood mesmerized. Seeing it flow on his skin so freely stirs something within me. Something awakens from its slumber. Why haven’t I made him bleed for me before? Every fiber in his wretched body deserves it, yet I’ve stilled my hand. Why? Because he might kill me for it? I can’t help it, I dip my fingers in his crimson flowing on his upper lip. He doesn’t shy away from my touch. He looks at me despite the pain, unmoving like a statue. It’s the gaze of a man who’s backed in a corner. He knows he deserved it. And he’d deserve so much more. But now I’m more interested in the blood that I spilled. I look at the warm wetness on my finger and give it a warm smile it deserves. I kiss it with my tongue. I lick his blood as I look at him. Still, he remains stationary. His gaze follows my finger, my tongue. He tastes of copper and desperation. “Are you satisfied?” he asks. “Not until you draw your last breath.” “As expected.” He gives me a smile. Then, he says, “Leave him out of this.” He’s talking about Niall. I smile at him. “Will you bleed for him?” “Yes.” There’s no hesitation in his voice. He would die for his brother. And that’s honey for my ears. “We’ll see,” I answer. If anything, Niall is the one who won’t leave me alone. He wants to protect me from this world. “I mean it,” he says. “I will kill you with my bare hands if you do anything to him.” He’s serious. He would do it. His hands are bloodied enough. “Don’t let him hear that,” I warn him. “He knows what you’ve done.” “And you–” “I haven’t done anything yet.” I give him an innocent, virtuous smile. “We’ll see what happens, won’t we? Lord Centurion.” I smile at him and take my leave. [[Continue|Back at the barracks.]]

Blood spreads across his jaw. It pours into his mouth. He spits blood at the pure white marble floor, tainting it with it. And I watch him. There’s nothing I need to say at this moment, everything’s been said on my part. My fist did the talking. “Leave him alone,” he says. Niall. He’s talking about Niall. \<<if $marcus_kiss is true>> "So, you kissed me because of him?" I ask with my tone lacking emotion. \<<else>> “So, you tried to kiss me because of him?” I ask with my tone lacking emotion. <</if>>\ He flinches at my words, at me recounting what he tried to do to me. And, reluctantly, he nods. Another one of his mind games. Good thing I didn’t fall for it. Without giving him an answer he desperately needs, I leave him to his vices. [[Continue|Back at the barracks.]]

He receives my spit without flinching. It’s like he knows that he deserves it and more. My saliva slowly runs down his cheek like a snail. He looks at me but there’s nothing I can understand in his gaze. More than anything, he looks confused. It couldn’t be over what I did, he must’ve anticipated my reaction. He’s not that much of an idiot. Then, it must be over what he did. What he tried to do. “What’s wrong with you?” I ask but I’m not sure if it’s the right question. There’s so much wrong with that man. “I…” He hesitates. He wipes the spit from his cheek and looks at it. “Many things.” That’s nothing new. He continues, however, and this time his voice gaining more confidence, “You will leave him alone.” Niall. He did this for him. “So, you tried to kiss me because of him?” He flinches at my words, at me recounting what he tried to do to me. And, reluctantly, he nods. Another one of his mind games. Good thing I didn’t fall for it. “It’s none of your business,” I say with venom in my words. And he accepts it. For now. Without another word, I leave him to his vices. [[Continue|Back at the barracks.]]

The slap echoes through the empty hallway. Marcus holds his injured cheek with a look of nothing in his gaze. He expected this. Of course he did. He’s not a complete idiot, even if there’s evidence to the contrary. “Don’t ever do that again,” I say through my bared teeth. “Stay away from my brother,” he says, as if this is some kind of exchange. He tried to kiss me because of Niall. It’s another one of his mind games. Good thing I didn’t fall for it. “It’s none of your business,” I say with venom in my words. And he accepts it. For now. Without another word, I leave him to his vices. [[Continue|Back at the barracks.]]

\<<set $marcus_punch to true>> I break the kiss and as he’s panting for air, I punch him. Hard. And he takes it. He takes it like he knew he deserved it. Blood pours from his nose. I think I broke it. [[Remain silent and look at him.|c6_n_remainsilentlook]] [["Sorry. I... No. You should be sorry for this."|c6_n_marcussorry]] [[Laugh at the sight of it.|c6_n_marcuslaugh]] [[Marvel at the sight of his blood.|c6_n_marvel]]

As if regaining my senses, I break the kiss. He pants against my lips, warming my skin with his breath. I shake my head, needing to get away from him. I take a step back. And he doesn’t stop me. He looks like he’s ready to leave, himself. Without another word, I leave. I leave him to his vices. And leave with mine. [[Continue|Back at the barracks.]]

With a snarl filled with hatred and anguish, I grab the back of his neck and smash my lips against his. Anger makes me click my teeth against his. He grunts in surprise, in confusion, and for a mere moment he tries to push me away. But then, after a moment of hesitation, he answers the kiss. He leans into me, leans into my hatred and bitterness. He grabs my arms but not with the sense of urgency and need I expected. No, it’s with a sense of timidness. And it almost makes me laugh. He’s afraid of me, of either breaking me or what I will do to him. I expected a wolf, not a docile dog. I break the kiss as quickly as I started it, leaving him gasping for air. “You’re pathetic.” He doesn’t protest. He is and he knows it. I continue with a small smile, “I will make Niall kill you for what you did.” “You’re insane.” “It’s a bet.” “This isn’t funny, you insane–” “It’s a little funny.” I keep smiling and give him a peck on his cheek. He draws in a sharp breath and is left looking at me. “See you at the fort, Lord Centurion,” I say and give him a careless little wave. He doesn’t follow me. It’s no wonder. I smile as I walk, but there’s something nagging me. Something saying that I went too far. Even if there are clearly reasons he won’t kill me, should I really push my luck with him? Niall and I aren’t that close yet. I shouldn’t place all my bets on him defending me, should Marcus want to try and murder me. I should lay low for a while. I should merely mess with Marcus’s head, and get closer to Niall. We’ll see later what happens. [[Continue|Back at the barracks.]]

/* define your story variables here */

This is a closed alpha demo, meant for either alpha testers or patrons. Some choices and routes are still under construction. This is content meant for 18+ audience. By proceeding, you are confirming that you are of age. <<button[[Continue]]>><</button>>

Content warnings: sexual assault instigated by the main character (if the reader actively chooses responses implying it). [[Back.|Continue]]

Do you want to jump straight to the Chapter 8? [[Yes.|bath_skip]] What is your sex? [[Female|gender_female][$sex to "female"]] [[Male|gender_male][$sex to "male"]]

\<<if (($gender is "cisman") or ($gender is "ciswoman"))>> \<<set $cis to true>> <</if>>\ What is your height? [[Tall|height][$height to "tall"]] [[Average|height][$height to "average"]] [[Short|height][$height to "short"]] What is your build? [[Muscular|height][$build to "muscular"]] [[Average|height][$build to "average"]] [[Lithe|height][$build to "lithe"]] [[Continue|element]]

Your height is $height and build is $build. Things have changed and now Hati's personality is based on four elements (fire, air, earth, and water). You can read more on the personality types [[here]] and decide on your Hati's dominating personality type here. [[Fire|quinn?][$fire to true]] [[Water|quinn?][$water to true]] [[Earth|quinn?][$earth to true]] [[Air|quinn?][$air to true]]

!Fire: Fire is undisciplined and emotional, charismatic and convincing. !Earth: Earth is disciplined and stoic. They are good at hiding true feelings, hence can lie easily. !Water: Water is mellow, empathetic. Wears their heart on their sleeve, hence bad at telling lies to people's faces. !Air: Air spends time observing and reading people. Master at deflection, inconspicuously sways people to do their bidding. [[Back|element]]

Is Quinn a man or a woman? [[A woman.|perv?][$quinn_gender to "woman"]] [[A man.|perv?][$quinn_gender to "man"]]

\<<if $quinn_gender is "woman">> \<<set $q_he to "she"; $q_him to "her"; $q_his to "her"; $q_hers to "hers"; $q_himself to "herself" $q_He to "She"; $q_Him to "Her"; $q_His to "Her"; $q_Hers to "Hers"; $q_Himself to "Herself">> \<<elseif $quinn_gender is "man">> \<<set $q_he to "he"; $q_him to "him"; $q_his to "his"; $q_hers to "his"; $q_himself to "himself"; $q_He to "He"; $q_Him to "Him"; $q_His to "His"; $q_Hers to "His"; $q_Himself to "Himself">> <</if>>\ Describe your perversion level. [[Not interested.|dummy?][$not_interested to true]] [[Openly perverted.|dummy?][$loud_pervert to true]] [[A shy pervert.|dummy?][$shy_pervert to true]] [[Completely clueless.|dummy?][$clueless to true]]

!!<h2>Chapter 6</h2> My steps echo on the all too familiar stone road leading to the barracks. The same desperate headstones beg for my attention, greet me with salutes from the afterlife, and warn me about the dangers of life and how quickly things can end. If I heeded their existence, their memory would still live on. They need me to see them. I see you. I see you. You will live through me. The scent of rotting leaves, of winter, everything is all too familiar. It reminds me of the night when– I stop. There’s a sound of someone walking nearby. No. Not walking. Crouching. Like an animal. [[It’s ready to pounce.]]

Familiar fear takes a grip on my stomach, anxiety pushes down on my chest. I’ve been here before. I’ve heard that sound before. I’ve seen the animal who lurks in the darkness. I’ve felt its weight on me. It wasn’t an animal at all. It was– [[“Show me!”|c6_showme]]

Maggots devour the corpse’s half-decayed, caved-in face. The eyes have long been eaten by the larvae, only the sockets are left to stare. Stare straight at me. And with those holes he sees me. He looks at me and he sees everything. The maggots in his sockets squirm relentlessly, trying to devour every last bit of dead flesh there is left. The man has no mouth but he smiles. His face comes closer, the smile grows wider, and the maggots wiggle so close that their tails brush against my skin. “Show me…” The whisper moans from beyond. His hands slam against my skin and I scream. [["Hati!"|c6_hati]]

The shout from behind freezes my blood. I try to run, to flee, but I can’t, my feet refuse me. My tunic rips off on its own and I can only watch as my naked chest is revealed to the darkness. I can’t pick the cloth to shield myself from the night, my arms refuse me. There’s a man behind me, breathing against my ear, the back of my neck. It’s too cold to be the breath of the living. The smell of dirt and rotting flesh assaults me, forcing me to stop breathing. The long silence burns my lungs, the freezing wind punishes my naked skin. The man’s decayed fingers hover over my sides. I dread the moment the dead flesh violates me, it will decay my skin. It will burn with vengeance. I try not to see who’s behind me. I try to fight the urge to look. I try to force my eyes shut but I can’t. I can’t stop myself from turning to face him. I look at him. [[A scream gets stuck in my throat.]]

“Hati!” Someone is shaking my shoulders. “Hati! Wake up!” Floyd. Kegan. Everyone. It’s so dark. [[Bury my face in Floyd's tunic.|ch6_buryfloyd]] [[Push Floyd away from me.|ch6_pushfloyd]]

I shove Floyd off me. I need to breathe. I need to calm myself. And I need to do it alone. “I’m sorry, you were screaming. It was a nightmare,” Floyd says, repeating the things I already know. I close my eyes until I’m certain they’ve abandoned all intent on trying to comfort me. I don’t need anyone's help, I just need to calm down. I can do that on my own. I don’t know what came over me. It was just a nightmare. I can say that now, logically. However, it felt all too real. My skin still tingles where he touched me. [[Continue|it's late]]

Without a thought, I bury my face in Floyd’s tunic, suffocate the subsiding screams by biting into his tunic. //Pathetic// “Shh, calm yourself,” Floyd says as he strokes my hair. And I do calm down. It’s his warm touch that makes me ground myself in reality, and I stop biting on his tunic. “It’s alright.” His voice calms me. With a small nod I look at the spot on his tunic. My saliva is all over him. Embarrassing. “It’s alright,” he repeats. “I’m used to being covered in my children’s snot.” That makes me feel less good about this than he thinks. I’m an adult. I shouldn’t cover my colleagues in snot nor saliva. I retreat from his embrace to further calm myself. I don’t know what came over me. It was just a nightmare. I can say that now, logically. However, it felt all too real. My skin still tingles where he touched me. [[Continue|it's late]]

!!A couple of days later It's here. The day when I can finally bathe in peace. I'm going to... [[Go to Camilla's bath.]] [[Go to Tinsae's bath. (Tinsae's bath entrance coming soon)|Go to Camilla's bath.]] [[Go to Niall's bath.]] [[Go to Marcus's bath.]] [[Go to the hot spring.]]

Would you call yourself observant or oblivious? [[Oblivious.|miscthings][$dummy to true]] [[Observant.|miscthings]]

It’s late, darkness makes it more difficult to see their faces. Some look confused and worried, some alarmed or annoyed. “By Jupiter’s throbbing cock, Hati, you sounded like a banshee.” Pec joins the conversation with his helpful remark. He gives me a quick and drowsy look over before diving back underneath his blanket, muttering something about morning horns and gods-forsaken hours. Floyd throws him a reprimanding look but the man is presumably already asleep. “Are you alright?” he asks me, his voice tight with worry. “Yes,” I quickly reply. This isn’t something I can share with him. He doesn’t believe me, I can see it in his eyes. How could he? I just woke up screaming. Besides, what is there to tell? That I feel bad about what happened to the Optio? [[I didn’t even kill him.]] [[I killed him and I feel terrible.][$distressed_optio_murderer to true]] [[I killed him but that’s not why I’m distraught.][$optio_murderer to true]]

He gives me a nod, his warmth still radiating from him. “Try to sleep. It’s still too early to wake up.” I sigh and curl up into my blanket. With a determined frown, I try to think of something else. Anything would do. I’ll think of… [[Marcus.|c6_marcus_think]] [[Niall.|c6_niall_think]] [[Camilla.|c6_camilla_think]] [[Tinsae.|c6_tinsae_think]] [[Quinn.|c6_quinn_think]] [[My past.]]

“I’m… fine,” I say, fully knowing that it won’t convince him. Perhaps I don’t want to convince him. Perhaps I need someone. The same warm smile he always gives me spreads across his face. “Do you want to sleep next to me?” “I…” I frown at the question. It sounds innocent enough, like a father would say to a child who woke up screaming. [["I would like that."]] [[Grunt in agreement.]]

For whatever gods-forsaken reason, my thoughts gravitate towards Marcus. [[Think about his jawline.]] [[He’s... nice. In an infuriating way.]] [[Think about kicking him in the shin.]] [[I will kill him.]]

Niall’s smiling face appears in front of my mind’s eyes. [[He is so... nice. It's weirding me out.]] [[Think about his smile.]]

I don’t dare to think of my future, it would only cause me more anxiety. No, I need something warm. Something familiar. I’ll think about my father. His warm smile. //His head falling on the ground.// No. No. That’s not what I’m thinking about. I bury my face in the blanket and try to empty my mind. I need to sleep. In between visions of death and loss, I fall into restless sleep. [[The next day.|cernunnos]]

I would. The thought spreads warmth in my chest, as does his familiar smile. “Whenever you’re ready,” he says and makes room for me in his bed. I hesitate for a mere moment before settling myself next to him. “Don’t start shagging,” Pec says even if he should be asleep. “Pec, I will–” Floyd starts with anger tainting his words but sighs instead. Faint sounds of snickering carry from Pec’s bed. Floyd lets out another exasperated sigh and says: “Don’t worry about anything, Hati, just sleep.” With some hesitation I snuggle next to him, taking in his warmth and his scent that I’ve never really stopped to appreciate before. He smells of freshly-baked bread, the same ones he always bakes for us when he has the time. But there’s something fresh and sharp beneath it, a scent of peppermint. Is he about to cook something with mint? I smile at the sensation of having someone so close to me. Someone who doesn’t require anything of me, who just wants me to fall asleep and dream of good things. I smile at the memories of the food he’s cooked, wondering what else will be in store for us. I fall asleep as quickly as I close my eyes. No nightmares get past Floyd that night. [[The next day.|cernunnos]]

I let out an indistinct noise that’s supposed to mean that I don’t mind the idea. I don’t. I just want to go back to sleep and curling next to someone doesn’t sound like a bad idea. “That means ‘yes’, right?” Floyd lets out a laugh in the darkness. I don’t answer, I just climb next to him. I greedily take in his warmth and his scent that I’ve never really stopped to appreciate before. He smells of freshly-baked bread, the same ones he always bakes for us when he has the time. But there’s something fresh and sharp beneath it, a scent of peppermint. Is he about to cook something with mint? I smile at the sensation of having someone so close to me. Someone who doesn’t require anything of me, who just wants me to fall asleep and dream of good things. I smile at the memories of the food he’s cooked, wondering what else will be in store for us. I fall asleep as quickly as I close my eyes. No nightmares get past Floyd that night. [[The next day.|cernunnos]]

!!In the forest The nightmare still lingers at the back of my head as I enter the same forest the Optio died in. This is the only one with an ancient oak in it. Faint divine energy surrounds it, the smell of dandelions linger even when there are no flowers in sight. It’s only been a couple of days since I set foot into this forest but winter has already claimed it its own. The wind punishes my skin with its freezing howl as I slowly make my way through the wet snow. The great oak watches over me as I try to keep the shudders at bay. At least I don’t have to get undressed for this ritual. A small grace. I did have to look for a frog in hibernation to sacrifice to the Twins. It wasn’t an easy task, they lie dormant at the bottom of slow rivers and freezing ponds. Wetness clings to my shivering skin. I try not to think about it. Father always said that being cold depends on your strength of mind. Don’t think about it, don’t freeze about it. Or something like that. [[I place the frog on the altar.]]

His gaze always follows me when he thinks I won’t notice. He’s so //nice//. Sickeningly sweet. It doesn’t even seem to be an act. He’s just nice. With a frown on my face I finally fall asleep. [[The next day.|cernunnos]]

He has a nice smile. It always reaches his eyes. He carries himself with surprising confidence, despite the fact that he trips on his words when he talks to me. It’s not a bad thing to think about before falling asleep… [[The next day.|cernunnos]]

What? No. Why would I think about his jawline? Sure, it’s prominent. It makes his whole face look sharper, stronger. Doesn’t mean he’s not a fool, of course. He does tend to grind his teeth a lot. I wonder if that’s the reason why I’ve focused on his jaw so much. Must be the reason… With these thoughts, I finally drift to sleep. [[The next day.|cernunnos]]

What? The person who killed my father is //nice//? I let out a mute groan into my pillow. At least my thoughts aren’t occupied by the decaying face of the Optio anymore. However, I’m not sure if this is any better. With these disturbing thoughts, I drift to sleep. [[The next day.|cernunnos]]

I think about his pained expression. How he’d fall on the ground and I could kick him some more. The thought of his pain makes me smile, and I quickly fall asleep. [[The next day.|cernunnos]]

I will murder him. I will smile when he draws his last breath. I will make sure I will be the last thing he sees in this world. In his final moments, he will curse his stupidity for letting me live. With these thoughts, I drift to sleep with a smile on my face. [[The next day.|cernunnos]]

Camilla’s frown appears in my mind’s eye. [[She has a pretty smile.|c6_camilla_nicesmile]] [[That frown seems to be stuck on her face.|c6_camilla_frown]]

I mean, she could have a pretty smile if she smiled sometimes. And she'd punched me for saying it. At least verbally. She really does love her insults. The walls around her are built there for a reason. I wonder what the reason is… With these thoughts, my mind finally drifts off to sleep. [[The next day.|cernunnos]]

“If you’re sure…,” Floyd says, giving me one last chance to confide in him. [["I'm sure."|c6_floyd_sure]] [[Hesitate.|c6_floyd_hesitate]]

I didn’t. But he died on top of me. And I didn’t even give him a proper burial. I failed my duty as a druid. His soul is cursed to walk this land for eternity. [[Floyd keeps looking at me.|c6_floyd_look]]

No, he had it coming. I don’t regret any of that. However, he will come after me for not giving him a proper burial. No matter how I felt about him, I should’ve buried him properly. It’s too late now. [[Floyd keeps looking at me.|c6_floyd_look]]

<<set $optio_murderer to true>> My dagger sunk deep into his thigh. My hand still tingles in remembrance of the deed. I hide the hand beneath the blanket. I didn’t even give him a proper burial. I killed him and denied him entry to the afterlife. [[Floyd keeps looking at me.|c6_floyd_look]]

There are rare moments when she smiles but those smiles still carry the sense of self-importance. As if she’s better than everyone else. Must come with being a noblewoman. With these thoughts, my mind finally drifts off to sleep. [[The next day.|cernunnos]]

Tinsae’s pleasantly smiling face appears in front of my mind’s eye. [[She's sweet.|c6_tinsae_sweet]] [[She's too sweet. It's weird.|c6_tinsae_too_sweet]]

My old friend’s mischievous face appears in front of my mind’s eye. \<<if $quinn_sex is "male">> [[I’m worried about him.|c6_q_worried]] [[Thank the Twins he’s here with me.|c6_q_thankstwins]] \<<else>> [[I’m worried about her.|c6_q_worried]] [[Thank the Twins she's here with me.|c6_q_thankstwins]] <</if>>\

I’m happy that $q_he’s here with me. However, there’s the worry about $q_his changes that dims the joy. $q_He’s not quite $q_himself. On the other hand, am I the same as I was, either? Maybe we can heal together. With these thoughts, my mind finally drifts off to sleep. [[The next day.|cernunnos]]

I couldn’t do this without $q_him. To have someone familiar here with me is so important. Yes, something’s happened to $q_him but I’m sure we can figure it out together. With these thoughts, my mind finally drifts off to sleep. [[The next day.|cernunnos]]

I didn’t expect to find someone like her in the midst of all the enemies. She must have a strong character to have remained so pleasant in this world and its hardships. It’s admirable. It’s safe. She makes me feel safe. Thinking about her makes my mind drift off to sleep. [[The next day.|cernunnos]]

She must be hiding something. There must be something else about her than that sweet smile, and that sweet demeanor she wears around me. The Romans are cruel and they’ve created a cruel world, how could she have maintained that overly pleasant character about her? It’s suspicious. However, thinking about her does help my mind to drift off to sleep. [[The next day.|cernunnos]]

It’s the same altar Quinn made for me during Samhain. The frog still lives, barely. The poor fellow is blissfully unaware of its fate, still hoping to feel the first rays of the spring sun on their frozen muscles. No spring will come for you, little frog. But I will make your death meaningful. Another winter gale makes me bite my lip to stop it from quivering. Despite the freezing wind, the thick forest feels more hospitable than it was when we buried the Optio. [[The thought of him lingers at the back of my mind.]] [[I need to focus on the task at hand.]]

He must be ravaged by wildlife already. A shudder forces its way through me, and this time it’s not caused by the gust of wind. I wonder if he’s here. If he can see me. No. Better not to think about that. Besides, he can’t do anything to me. The veil between the living and the dead is thick once again. [[I should've saved him somehow.][$optio_regret to true]] [[I need to focus on the task at hand.]]

I let the Optio’s rotten face leave my mind as soon as it tried to enter. This is not the time. I need to focus. I've made all the necessary preparations to do this. I need to do this. I need to contact the Twins. I need to hear from them. [[I am their chosen one, after all.][$chosen_one to true]] [[I doubt they’ll answer me...][$doubter to true]] [[I need to believe that they’re here for me.][$believer to true]]

How? He tried to kill me. There was no talking sense to him. It was as if he was possessed by something. By his hatred towards me? It’s no use thinking about it. He’s dead and remains unburied, no matter how much the fact saddens me. I need to focus on the task at hand. I've made all the necessary preparations to do this. I need to do this. I need to contact the Twins. I need to hear from them. [[I am their chosen one, after all.][$chosen_one to true]] [[I doubt they’ll answer me...][$doubter to true]] [[I need to believe that they’re here for me.][$believer to true]]

I fill my heart with makeshift confidence as I look at the altar. They will answer me this time. They already contacted me during Samhain, they know that I’m here and I need them. They will answer me. I’m their druid! They’ve chosen me to be their vessel. I am their humble and loyal servant. They will answer me. [[My grip is tight as I look at the frog.]]

The thought poisons my faith, makes my heart feel heavier. They must see that I’m struggling. If they still refuse to answer, I… I try not to think about that. [[My grip is tight as I look at the frog.]]

They’re here, they must be. They know that I’m here, they contacted me during Samhain. I need to believe that they care. What else do I have? My faith is what I have left. I push the depressing thought and focus on the task at hand. [[My grip is tight as I look at the frog.]]

\<<if $fire is true>> I bite my lip and focus on the frog. “I’m sorry, little guy.” It’s what I need to do. It’s what I’ve done a thousand times before. The discomfort shows on my face, I know it. Mother always scolded me about it. She said that I should wipe the frown out of my face since the gods are watching. I’m sorry. \<<elseif $earth is true>> I push all my feelings aside and focus on the frog. It’s what I need to do. It’s as simple as that. I’m used to this. If there ever were negative feelings over me having to kill the sacrifices, I didn’t let it show. Mother commended me on it. “Sorry, little frog.” \<<elseif $air is true>> I stabilize my breathing and ignore my feelings on the matter. I need to do this. It’s as simple as that. I’m used to this. If there ever were negative feelings over me having to kill the sacrifices, I didn’t let it show. Mother commended me on it. \<<elseif $water is true>> I let emotions wash over me, it’s no use of trying to keep them at bay. “I’m so sorry, little frog. I’m sorry that I have to do this.” Mother would always reprimand me for being so sentimental. //Just kill the damned creature,// she’d say. //What are you crying about?// Even now, even when I’m alone, I still feel guilty. Guilty about caring. “I’m sorry.” <</if>>\ [[The dagger flashes as I pierce the frog’s little heart.]]

A small pool of thick blood gathers beneath them. I focus on the blood and mutter: “Twins above, the Righteous Butcher, the Just Bewitcher, heed my words. Heed my blood offering.” I repeat their names, over and over, as I start falling deeper into the familiar trance. But the forest remains empty. There’s not a soul to be felt. Nothing. “Please,” I add. “Please.” [[Nothing.]]

Emptiness gnaws through me. Please. I need to talk to you. Then, a bitter thought sneaks into my mind, poisoning my concentration: Why did you talk to Quinn but not me? Why won’t you talk to me? [[Get angry.]] [[Profound sadness takes hold of me.]] [[There must be a reason for it. I need to believe that.]] [[Stare emotionlessly at the frog.]] [[Do I need to offer them more blood?]]

Why is Quinn so important that you'd answer to $q_him but not me? I’m the one who prays for you every night, sacrifices for you, I’ve given my whole life for you. Yet, you blessed $q_him and not me. Am I truly discarded this easily? “Fine! Keep your secrets!” The frog’s body lets out a pathetic ‘thump’ as it hits the holy oak. The urge to run after the frog and ask for its forgiveness, ask for the Twins’ forgiveness, tries to take over me. Instead, I bury my face in my hands and try to stifle a shout of rage. \<<if $fire is true>> I can’t. It escapes me, igniting my innards with righteous anger. “FUCK YOU!” I roar at the frog, at the altar, at the Twins themselves. I bend down to hold my knees, grind my teeth, the fire within me burning smaller, more pathetic. The Twins have forsaken me. \<<elseif $earth is true>> My jaw is tightened as I bury the fire within me, suffocate it with dirt and dust to reclaim control of myself. It helps. There’s a familiar numbness within me but its power is still brittle. I look at the frog. It died for nothing. It seems that the Twins have forsaken me. \<<elseif $air is true>> All but ignoring the rage within me, I take a deep breath of the cold winter air, I fill my lungs with it, feel a little calmer. But there’s a hollowness within me, a hole in my chest that refuses to leave even if the burning fire did. I look at the small critter that I killed for nothing. The Twins have forsaken me. \<<elseif $water is true>> I close my eyes and drown the rage within me. But, the rage proves treacherous, for it turns into that of profound sadness that grabs my innards, twists them, it makes me bend down and breathe heavily. The Twins have forsaken me. I killed the poor frog for nothing. <</if>>\ [[Continue|cernunnos comes]]

To be truly alone. Truly forsaken in the foreign lands. \<<if $manipulated is true>> It’s a wretched thing. I try not to ponder on my lost memories, the lost time, the sense of weirdness that eats at my soul every waking hour. But right now, at this very moment, in front of the altar where the frog’s body lies that died in vain, I find myself feeling the weight of it all. It’s too heavy for me to carry alone. I wish… I wish I wasn’t here. I don’t want to be here. Please. Take me away from here. \<<elseif $determined is true>> I’m doing this for them. I came here to avenge them. And what do I get in return? Nothing. Anger feeds on my innards. Anger that slowly fades away and all that’s left behind is sadness. Numbing sadness. Why am I here? Why did I think this is a good idea? I want to go home but there’s no home to go to. <</if>>\ [[Continue|cernunnos comes]]

If I didn’t believe it, I fear I might break down. And I can’t afford that to happen right now. So, I clench my jaw and choose to believe. The Twins are out there, that much is certain. They showed themselves to me during Samhain. They are here, they know that I am here. They caressed my mind with their love, even if they didn’t prolong their stay. They choose not to reveal their plans to me. It’s not my place to question them. That’s what mother would say. If they choose to champion Quinn but not me, it is as it is. My duty is to help them. Help Quinn. My duty is to believe and serve. [[Continue|cernunnos comes]]

I’m numb. My limbs are numb due to coldness, my mind numb due to abandonment. All I can do is to look at the body of the frog that died in vain. I don’t want to care. I don’t want to, but I’ve cared all my life. I’ve cared what the Twins think of me, I’ve hoped that they care about me. Mother said that they care. It’s been demanded that I care, over and over. I clench my teeth and try not to care. [[Continue|cernunnos comes]]

Do they crave that from me? The life of a frog is indeed a wretched thing, a small, insignificant thing. I can offer you more, I can give you something more. Do I need to murder for you? [[It'd be a sacrifice. Not a murder.][$human_blood to true]] [[Of course I'm not going to murder anyone.]]

Sacrifice is a sacrifice. It’s necessary, natural. It’s what the gods demand. It’s justified. The thought is tempting. I need to reconnect with the Twins. And, perhaps, they would look upon me with more grace if I gave them the ultimate sacrifice. But, who to sacrifice? And is that truly what the Twins require of me? Something to consider. [[Continue|cernunnos comes]]

No. No, I’m not going to resort to human sacrifices, that would be ridiculous. I just need something bigger, an elk, a bear. Something with more life force. Something to make the Twins listen. [[Continue|cernunnos comes]]

Just as I’m about to leave, I stop. I listen. I… feel. Hope. Hope tugs at my heart as something reaches out to me. A powerful being. An outreached hand. Its energy is subtle, gentle. It’s a lover’s caress, a friend’s embrace after a long time apart. Its scent is newly cut grass, a spring meadow filled with a thousand dandelions basking in the high noon sun. Its energy lingers around me, explores me. It grazes my skin, fills my heart with anticipation. It’s not the Twins. No. The scent is not the same. But I’ve felt this energy before. I met them. //Do you permit it?// Yes. I do. [[Then, the world around me disappears.]]

I lie on the ground on my back, blinking at the dark sky. The ground is not a freezing sea of mud, my clothes are dry and warm. A sense of peace wraps my heart into its embrace. The scent of dandelions linger in the air, their spores dance in the midnight sky. I could lie here and look at them forever. But no. I need to see who invited me here. [[I sit up.]]

My gaze is captured by an imposing figure sitting cross-legged underneath the same oak I sacrificed the frog under. Their head is shaped like the skull of a deer but instead of bone, it's oak bark. Their horns are thick branches. The golden torque on their neck gleams underneath the myriad of stars. Their skin is striped with black tattoos, they circle their slender body like snakes. Their legs are the legs of a mighty elk. Cernunnos. Not a word leaves them. For a while, I find myself doubting they even had a mouth underneath that barken skull. Do deities even need mouths to speak? As these useless thoughts rummage in my head, a comfortable silence surrounds the forest. Cernunnos peers at me with their dimly lit green eyes. Their gaze pierces through my soul but there’s nothing for me to fear. As long as I follow the order of nature, I will be at peace here. However, if I ventured too far… They would catch me easily if I tried to flee. I would be but a mere rabbit. [[Greet them with respect.]] [[Greet them in awe.]] [["Cernunnos?"]] [[Remain silent, I'm too stunned to speak.]]

I quickly bow my head as low as I can without falling. "Lord of the Wild Things. Father of the Forest. God of the Green. Mighty Horned One. Ancient One. I offer myself to you and ask nothing in return. Please use me as you see fit." I don't turn to look at them after the string of greetings. I know better than to stare straight in the eyes of a deity. Not a word leaves their lips. However, there’s something in the air. Like a summer breeze kissing the skin of my cheeks. My heart rests, my limbs are light as feathers. Then, a voice from beyond, roaring like thunder but silent like a whisper. “Rise, child of the Isles.” My body obeys, my mind wonders what else they know about me. [["Druid," they say.]]

"Father of the Forest!" I bend down on my knees and fight the urge to crawl up to them and kiss their feet. Never have I met a deity before and I would be a fool to act with any less reverence. “God of the Green. Mighty Horned One. Ancient One. Lord of the Wild Things,” I recite every known word of Cernunnos I can remember and hope I won’t forget anything, hope they are sufficient. An amused energy circles around me but it’s pleased, nonetheless. Then, a voice from beyond, roaring like thunder but silent like a whisper. “Rise, child of the Isles.” They know where I’m from. The thought fills me with dread and excitement. What else do they know about me? [["Druid," they say.]]

"Cernunnos?" I ask and disturb the holy silence with my mortal voice. My voice grates my ears, the thought that I would address them with that name is preposterous and I almost slap my treacherous mouth shut. Mother would slap me right across the face for such blasphemy. I flinch, expecting to feel the change of the aura around me. Hostility, anger, righteous fury ready to strike me down… But nothing of the sort emerges. No. Nothing but an odd sense of amusement lingers around me. Then, a voice from beyond, roaring like thunder but silent like a whisper: “Is that how you greet your own gods, brave child of the Isles?” My cheeks flare up at the backhanded compliment and all I can do is to bow my head. [["Druid," they say.]]

I don't know what to say, where to even begin. Why would Cernunnos want to see me? A greeting might suffice but I can’t force it out of me, no matter how hard I try. All I can do is to gawk at them. And they look at me with silent expectation. I finally rip my blasphemous gaze from them, not sure what to do, how to act. Mother would slap me right across the face for such an act. Then, a voice from beyond, roaring like thunder but silent like a whisper: “Can you speak, child of the Isles?” There’s amusement in the air. Are they teasing me? “Yes, I can, Ancient One, please, I–” They halt my tongue with their gaze. It’s not a gaze of hostility but of silent amusement. I fall silent. [["Druid," they say.]]

The sound echoes from deep within them, it resonates underneath their wooden skull. It’s everywhere around me. It makes me draw in breath, to cling to their every word. "Your offering was pathetic." I pause. I blink. Did they just insult me? “I’m used to potent elks, mighty bears, and strong boars. I received a sleepy frog from a nearby pond.” They add: “And I certainly did not expect a small, shivering druidling from the Isles, all alone in the snow.” Shivering druidling? [[Defend myself as respectfully as I can.]] [[Will myself not to snap back at them.]] [[Well, they’ve got a point.]] [[Remain silent.|silent cernunnos]]

I’m facing a foreign god. Alone. I should not start to– “Excuse me for saying but that is the most rude of you, Ancient One.” They tilt their head slightly, granting me the right to speak further. “Yes, I was cold and shivering. However, you paint a pathetic image of me and I disagree with the notion.” They look at me. It seems that to them, they’re just stating a fact. And it’s futile to argue against it. It makes the insult even more insulting. What a rude god. Well, I should probably just be happy that they didn’t will me out of existence. Their gaze lingers on me almost lazily. [[Study Cernunnos.]]

They’re a god. You can’t just start snapping at gods. Even if you really want to. And I really want to. \<<if $fire is true>> Before I can stop myself, I’m already talking: “I am not pathetic.” They look at me. It seems that to them, they’re just stating a fact. And it’s futile to argue against it. It makes the insult even more insulting. “Did I lie, druidling?” “Yes. No. I mean I was cold and shivering. However, I’m not pathetic.” Silence. Bored silence. What a rude god. \<<elseif $earth is true>> They’re rude but they could also will me out of existence. I hold my tongue, this is definitely not a battle I’m willing to choose. \<<elseif $air is true>> I take a deep breath and try to see the matter from their point of view. They’re rude but they could also will me out of existence. I have to pick my battles. Besides, I must’ve looked pathetic to them. So, I remain silent. \<<elseif $water is true>> But before I can stop myself, I’m defending the one thing that irks me about their statement: “Life of a frog is just as precious as the life of an elk.” Amused silence lingers as they seem to ponder on my words. “Yes. You speak the truth.” I exhale the air I was holding in. Thank the Twins they didn’t take offense. Wouldn’t want to be willed out of existence for wanting to defend a frog’s honor. <</if>>\ Their gaze lingers on me almost lazily. [[Study Cernunnos.]]

Yes, my sacrifice was pathetic. The life force of a frog is a weak one. Yes, I was shivering, and yes, I was all alone. I felt all alone. This is not how I expected this night to turn out. Silence lingers as they inspect me. [[Study Cernunnos.]]

I don’t really know what to say to that. A part of me agrees with their assessment, another part feels just slightly insulted. So, it’s better not to say anything. Silence lingers as they inspect me. [[Study Cernunnos.]]

Time passes by and curiosity wins over my caution. I look at Cernunnos, I dare to study their appearance. Their long hair shields their chest, and spiraling tattoos trace the parts of the skin that I bear witness to. Their body is that of a toned hunter, ready to dart after any and all prey that would flee from their grasp. They’d catch them without any effort. [[Look away.|c6_c_iwasnottheoneyoucalled]] [[Inspect their lower body.|c6_c_wanderinggaze]]

“I was not the one you called,” they say. A simple statement, one that I can’t deny. No. They weren’t what I expected. “Who then?” I open my mouth to speak the truth. However, something inside me says that I shouldn't. Something prevents the names of my gods from leaving my lips, it implores me not to let them know. They shouldn’t know that I was trying to contact the Twins. But why? [[Tell them the truth.|c6_c_cernunnostruth]] [[Lie.|c6_c_cernunnoslie]] [[I don't want to lie nor tell the truth.|c6_c_nolienotruth]]

The danger makes my heart throb faster as I let my gaze wander lower on their body. I’ve never seen a god before, never seen anything like them. The elk-like legs draw my interest, they merge seamlessly with the humanoid lower belly. My mind is suddenly overrun by a brief flash of me laying my head on their lap, their warm fur acting as a makeshift pillow. I blink and the image is gone. Only a flimsy excuse of a skirt prevents my wandering gaze from invading their privacy further. I look away, as if just realizing what I’m doing. Mother would slap me out of this existence. Thankfully, Cernunnos seems to ignore my intrusive gaze. There’s only a slight shift in the air, a touch of amusement that hangs like a silken curtain over me. [[Continue|c6_c_iwasnottheoneyoucalled]]

“The Twins. Alpia and Ailpein. I am theirs.” Something within me makes me want to tear off my tongue when the true names of my gods leave me. I shouldn't have told them that. But I don't know why. I was never forbidden to speak their names before, why does the deed strike me with fear now? I inspect the meaning behind my fear but there’s nothing within my memory. Cernunnos doesn’t appear to be moved by the news either. Nothing changed in the aura around us, nothing that would indicate that Cernunnos even cared about the information. There is some semblance of interest but nothing else. Why did I think they’d care? Why did I think I’d get hurt for telling them? “A student.” They sense my inexperience, they know I’m but a student still. But it’s not so simple. “No. The old keeper of the grove is dead. I am the only one left.” The sight of the destroyed grove flashes before my eyes. Burnt flesh, howling of grief, a neatly arranged pile of severed heads, their soulless eyes all staring at me. “The grove itself is destroyed.” [[Anger...|c6_c_anger]] [[Grief...|c6_c_grief]]

“Morrigan,” I say. Silence. Oppressive silence lies heavy on my chest, on my shoulders, and my posture gives in underneath its weight. “A lie.” It’s a firm statement, not a shout. Not a threat nor an accusation. Just a statement of a fact. But it fills my mind with dread, shakes my body to the core. [["I'm so sorry!"|c6_c_sorry]]

I’m not so foolish that I’d lie to a deity. However, the twisting knot in my stomach prevents me from telling the truth, my tongue refuses to cooperate. I shouldn’t tell them the truth. So, I won’t. Cernunnos waits. The silence grows long, heavy, it lies on my shoulders so much so that my posture gives in under its weight. Finally, they merely say: “I see.” They won’t pry the information out of my mind but the question still hangs between us, wondering why I wouldn’t just tell them. [[Continue|c6_c_doyouhavequestions]]

Who would be so foolish that they’d lie to a deity? Of course they’d know that I’m lying. “I’m so–” “Silence.” A command that shuts my mouth in an instant. My breaths are short, afraid. Awaiting. Instead of saying anything, Cernunnos lazily pets the snake at their feet. The sight traps the air in my throat. I’ve never seen a snake so large. How didn’t I see it before? The snake’s eyes are glued to me. I’m but a rabbit in their eyes. It wants to see how fast it would catch me if I tried to run. //run run run little rabbit// “I detest lies, little rabbit,” Cernunnos says as they trace the snake’s stripes with their finger. I can only bow my head in shame as the truth leaves my treacherous lips. “My gods’ names are Alpia and Ailpein. The White Twins. I hail from Caledonia, I am the keeper of their grove.” “A keeper?” An echo of laughter rings in the air. They sense my inexperience, they know I’m but a student still. But it’s not so simple. “The old keeper of the grove is dead. I am the only one left.” The sight of the destroyed grove flashes before my eyes. Burnt flesh, howling of grief, a neatly arranged pile of severed heads, their soulless eyes all staring at me. “The grove itself is destroyed.” [[Anger...|c6_c_anger]] [[Grief...|c6_c_grief]]

Anger at what happened rises within me, fury aimed at those who are responsible for it. Anger lashes out of me like a wolf aiming to tear open any and all throats in its way. The air between us changes color to match my rage, redness hangs between us like a mist of blood. My jaw is clenched and my fists tightened as I look at the ground. “You’ve come to kill them?” A simple question. “Yes.” A simple answer. However, a thought makes me raise my gaze to meet theirs. Cernunnos is worshiped in the area, I might kill their followers in the process. “You don’t mind?” The skull face is as unreadable as ever. I don’t get the feeling that they mind but there’s something else. “You will die in your quest.” I frown at the words. It’s not a threat but a simple statement. “What do you mean?” Can they see the future? Or are they preaching the age-old story about revenge, how it always ends up killing the perpetrator in one way or another? No further explanation is given. [[Continue|c6_c_doyouhavequestions]]

Grief deflates my body, makes my limbs feel as heavy as my heart. The air between us turns into dark grayness on a wet winter night. I’m tired. So tired. And so alone. There are flickers of redness amidst the darkness, little bursts of anger and hatred trying to light the way, but they’re all but drowning in the mist of blackness. The air slowly changes colors, it turns green, the greenery of a meadow in the moonlight. Warmth touches my fingertips and it slowly spreads through my whole body. Understanding, sympathy. Cernunnos is still rooted to their seat but they reach out to my mind, offering their sympathies, embracing me without touching. They’re sorry for what happened. Death is a part of nature but to kill maliciously, and so many, is to disturb the order of creation. “You will find peace.” “When?” They don’t say. [[Continue|c6_c_doyouhavequestions]]

Silence. It might have been comfortable if an owl didn’t stare at my soul with its glowing eyes the whole time. The silent hunter of the night, the omen of death. I try not to look at it. “Mind not the animals, little druid,” they say and beckon the bird to land on their arm. The bird’s claws penetrate Cernunnos’s skin but they do not bleed. They slowly stroke its feathers all the while the owl stares at me. “You want to ask me something?” they ask. They will want something in return. I shouldn't ask anything if I don't need it. [[No. I shouldn’t ask them anything.]] [[Ask them to take care of the Optio's soul.]] \<<if $quinn_gender is "man">> [[Ask for help with Quinn. I promised I would help him.|c6_c_helpquinn]] \<<elseif $quinn_gender is "woman">> [[Ask for help with Quinn. I promised I would help her.|c6_c_helpquinn]] <</if>>\

Every fiber within me warns me that it’s a trap. I shouldn’t ask them anything. I should just leave. I’ve been here for too long already. Cernunnos knows my resolve and accepts it. They won’t force me into anything even if there’s a flicker of disappointment souring the air. Then, a sense of finality replaces it. We’re done for today. [[Cernunnos stands up.]]

\<<set $cernunnos_promise to true>> \<<set $cernunnos_promise_optio to true>> “There is a soul without a god, without a home. They’re wandering this forest. Zoilus was his name, Optio his profession. Could I ask you to take care of him?” They tilt their head in recognition. “I know this soul. Very well.” Relief fills me. But there is something within their words that makes me hesitant to ask: “What will you do to him?” “He will be hunted as a rabbit for as long as is required.” [["What? I just wanted to give him peace."|c6_c_peace]] [["That sounds fair."|c6_c_fair]] [[Remain silent.|c6_c_silent2]]

“I have a friend who’s touched by the gods. But $q_he’s dying because of it. Is there anything I could do to help $q_him?” A long pause. “I cannot say without seeing your friend.” “Ah, of course.” Defeat deflates my body. A part of the reason why I needed to contact the Twins was to help Quinn. I don’t want $q_him to die. An aura of understanding lingers around me, warmth. Cernunnos is not blind to my plight. A low, understanding voice: “Malicious gods can kill their followers even without meaning to.” \<<if $doubter is true>> ‘Malicious gods.’ I frown at the words. The Twins are not malicious. There must be a misunderstanding. But I don’t utter a word out loud to defend their honor. "Does your friend want to be cured?" “Yes. $q_He does.” I think $q_he does. $q_He seems to have accepted $q_his fate but it certainly doesn’t mean that $q_he wants to die. "I will try to help." [[Hope fills my heart.]] <<elseif ($believer is true) or ($chosen_one is true)>> [[Malicious gods?]] <</if>>

Cernunnos stands up. I didn't realize how tall they were when they were sitting down. They take a step towards me, their movement graceful despite the length of their limbs. With my neck strained I look at them looming over me. Primal fear tries to take over me, begging for me to run and not look back. //run run run little rabbit// However, the reflex of a prey is subdued by the hunter’s soothing aura, their silent promise not to do me any harm. I inhale the scent of dandelions, of greenery, of the soothing, rich scent of oak. And as I do, they bend down, closer to me, ever closer. So close that I can feel the faintest warmth of their breath, bearing the scent of spring, on my skin. Their barken skull looks coarse to the touch, the glowing eyes capturing mine gripping my heart with awe-inspired fear. "You may leave, druidling of the Isles." [[I wake up with a jerk.|c6_c_wakeup]]

\<<set $cernunnos_promise to true>> \<<set $cernunnos_promise_quinn to true>> “But…,” they start, the simple word bearing massive weight within. “I require something in return.” It’s to be expected. Gods aren’t known for giving their boons for free. “What can I offer you, Ancient One?” “A prayer,” they elaborate. “Every night." “No sacrifices?” “Only your time and attention.” A smile rings through their words. Time and attention. And my devotion. Could I pray to both Cernunnos and the Twins? Wouldn’t that be sacrilegious? However, this means that I could get help for Quinn… [["I accept the terms."]]

\<<if $fire is true>> “They most certainly are not malicious, Ancient One!” A shout leaves me before I can think. No. The Twins would never kill Quinn. There’s a misunderstanding. It takes a moment to realize that I just shouted at a god. However, they don’t seem to take offense to it. If anything, they seem to have expected a strong response from a druid. \<<elseif ($earth is true) or ($air is true)>> “The Twins are not malicious, Ancient One.” There’s a misunderstanding. I breathe deep and keep my cool despite the utter insult that was just spat at my face. \<<elseif $water is true>> “Malicious? The Twins?” I frown at the words. “No, Ancient One, my gods are not malicious.” To even imply that is an insult but I can’t exactly leave this place before I’m excused. Cernunnos seemingly ignores my words. <</if>>\ Instead, they ask: “Does your friend want to be cured?" “Yes. $q_He does.” I think $q_he does. $q_He seems to have accepted $q_his fate but it certainly doesn’t mean that $q_he wants to die. "I will try to help." [[Hope fills my heart.]]

Warmth lingers around me, a Southern spring breeze. I should be pleased. However, I’m not sure I am. A sense of dread crawls in my stomach, like I did something terribly wrong. I can’t take it back. A sense of finality lingers in the air. We’re done for today. [[Cernunnos stands up.]]

A slight taste of pungent irritation. “He will be given peace when he deserves it.” I shouldn’t question them further. I can only hope that Optio will find his peace when Cernunnos deems him ready. They don’t seem like a cruel god. “But…,” they start, the simple word bearing massive weight within. “I require something in return.” I nod. It was to be expected. Gods aren’t known for giving their boons for free. “What can I offer you, Ancient One?” “A prayer,” they elaborate. “Every night.” “No sacrifices?” “Only your time and attention.” A smile rings through their words. Time and attention. And my devotion. Could I pray to both Cernunnos and the Twins? Wouldn’t that be sacrilegious? However, this means that I could help Optio’s lost soul… [["Yes. I accept."|"I accept the terms."]]

Cernunnos doesn’t seem like a cruel god so there is no reason for me to think that Optio will suffer for longer than it’s needed to. He was a bastard in life, no wonder some time in the limbo is needed. Cernunnos gives me the slightest nod, despite both of us knowing that my approval wasn’t needed. They have claimed Optio's soul and they will do whatever they please with it. “But…,” they start, the simple word bearing massive weight within. “I require something in return.” I nod. It was to be expected. Gods aren’t known for giving their boons for free. “What can I offer you, Ancient One?” “A prayer,” they elaborate. “Every night.” “No sacrifices?” “Only your time and attention.” A smile rings through their words. Time and attention. And my devotion. Could I pray to both Cernunnos and the Twins? Wouldn’t that be sacrilegious? However, this means that I could help Optio’s lost soul… [["Yes. I accept."|"I accept the terms."]]

I wonder how long he’s going to live in the limbo of being a rabbit before he can rest? At least there’s the possibility of rest for him. It’s better than the alternative. I think. “But…,” they start, the simple word bearing massive weight within. “I require something in return.” I nod. It was to be expected. Gods aren’t known for giving their boons for free. “What can I offer you, Ancient One?” “A prayer,” they elaborate. “Every night.” “No sacrifices?” “Only your time and attention.” A smile rings through their words. Time and attention. And my devotion. Could I pray to both Cernunnos and the Twins? Wouldn’t that be sacrilegious? However, this means that I could help Optio’s lost soul… [["Yes. I accept."|"I accept the terms."]]

I’m lying on the snow as I look at the gray sky once again. My body is warm but my clothes are freezing wet. At least I haven’t died of hypothermia while in… wherever I was. With a groan, I stand up. It takes a moment to wrap my head around what just happened. It’s almost too much for my brain to process. To think that an actual god answered my call is… a lot. With a shake of my head I start to walk back to the barracks. I’m soaked, cold, and in dire need of a hot bath. Not that I can get one any time soon. Then, a noise stops me on my feet. Something is stalking me. Optio? No. Something smaller. The energy is almost enthusiastic. //Hello!// A high-pitched voice enters my mind. It’s not Quinn. And the sound entered my head directly without the aid of my ears. I turn around to see what manner of beast is invading my head this time. [[A fox?|c6_c_fox]]

The fox’s stance is perky and confident as she peers at me, tilting her head. As ridiculous as the thought is, she looks like she’s waiting for an answer to their greeting. “Did you just speak?” I ask. //Of course, silly human,// she answers. I blink at the creature, trying to ignore the feeling of going mad everytime something like this happens. First Quinn talks in my head. Then I have meetings with the gods. Now this. However, the fox has a familiar scent to her. They smell of grass and dandelions. Cernunnos. It calms my mind, at least now I know that I’ve not gotten mad. This is the handiwork of a god. //The good Green Lord granted me a life as a mighty predator.// She looks at her tail proudly. //I will now eat birds and mice.// “Are you the frog that I–” ‘Killed,’ I almost say but swallow the word, not sure if I should recount the fact. So, Cernunnos resurrected them. “Why?” The fox seemingly nods but doesn’t answer my question. Would she even know the answer? //I feel like eating a frog now. They could turn into a pretty fox, too.// “I don’t think it works like that.” But Frog is already jumping away, her hops too frog-like for a fox. “Frog! Wait!” I shout after her. Frog turns around to look at me. //I will find you when you need me, friend. Goodbye!// I blink after her, quickly take in her fluffy gray tail before it’s gone. But I have a feeling she didn’t lie. This isn’t the last time I saw her. And the creature seems good-natured. The thought fills me with some sense of warmth. Someone is watching over me. //But is it truly a good thing?// [[I choose to believe it. For now.]]

My legs are wobbly and I sit down on the snowy moss pillow. Gods, talking animals… \<<if $cernunnos_promise is true>> Changing allegiances. I frown at the thought. I did not change my allegiances. I merely asked for help. //traitor// No. I bite the insides of my cheeks as I think of the implications, the possible consequences of my actions. The Twins always required absolute loyalty. [[At least I’m not alone. It makes me happy.|c6_c_happy]] [[I feel like I’m betraying the Twins.]] \<<else>> At least I didn't agree to anything. A small grace. I need to try to contact the Twins again later. I get up and start walking towards the barracks. [[Continue|quinn]] <</if>>

Even if it wasn’t the Twins that contacted me, it was a god. A god who seems to hold no ill will towards me. For now, at least. Gods can be fickle. Cernunnos isn’t a mere god, however. They are one of the more powerful deities I know of. Their presence is everywhere in this forest, strong and vital. Yes. They are a good ally. I ignore the feeling of emptiness that was left behind for Twins not answering to me. I have another long day ahead. [[Continue|c6_c_beforeleaving]]

//as you should// No. I’m the druid of the Twins, not of Cernunnos. The ghost of the pain lingers on my skin, on my scar tattoo. I’m theirs. \<<if $chosen_one is true>> I’m the chosen of the Twins. Despite that, I promised myself to another. It makes me feel… dirty. I shouldn’t have made such a promise. I should’ve waited for the Twins to make themselves known to me. Why didn’t I? Is my faith so fickle that I need to be constantly reminded to whom I belong to? I bury my face in my hands and groan. I made a terrible mistake. I need to ask for their forgiveness. Whatever will be enough? \<<elseif $doubter is true>> Doubt has eaten away at my heart before. Perhaps this is for the better. At least the Twins would be forced to notice me if I cheated on them with another god. The thought makes me snicker, just a little, but the image of my mother’s stern face quickly kills any and all laughter within me. I shouldn’t joke about these things. \<<elseif $believer is true>> This makes me feel… dirty. It’s wrong. I shouldn’t have made such a promise. I should’ve waited for the Twins to make themselves known to me. Why didn’t I? Is my faith so fickle that I need to be constantly reminded to whom I belong to? I bury my face in my hands and groan. I made a terrible mistake. I will probably need to ask for their forgiveness. Whatever will be enough? <</if>>\ [[Continue|c6_c_beforeleaving]]

The sight of the barracks doesn’t fill me as much dread as it used to. It’s not a home but at least I know what to expect there. Usually. Before I reach the gates, however, I halt my steps. Quinn. $q_He stands beside the gate to the fort, all but ignoring everyone passing by. It looks like $q_he’s deep in thought. So much so that it’s as if $q_his body is but a puppet that’s lost its strings. \<<if $quinn_gender is "man">> [[I'm worried about him.|c6_q_worry]] [[I try to evade him.|c6_q_flee]] \<<elseif $quinn_gender is "woman">> [[I'm worried about her.|c6_q_worry]] [[I try to evade her.|c6_q_flee]] <</if>>

Before I leave for the fort, there’s something still keeping me in place. I look at the altar, at the blood meant for the Twins. The smell of blood lingers around me. The smell of blood. It’s a familiar scent, all too familiar. There was a time when it filled me with awe, reverence. This time, however, the hair in the back of my neck stands up. The smell of the Twins. But there’s something wrong. There’s someone watching me but it’s not a benevolent force. It’s a predator sizing me out. I hold my breath as I grab the hilt of my sword. But, as quickly as it came, the feeling subsides, and the scent with it. I let out the breath that I was holding in, let go of the hilt. Was it them? Could it be? I swallow and grimace at my dry throat. As if I could fight off gods with my sword. As if I needed to! Blasphemous. It wasn’t the Twins. Otherwise, they would have made themselves known to me. But who else could it be? Once again, I’m alone. This time, however, the fact fills me with relief. I don’t want to spend another moment here. [[Back to the barracks.|quinn]]

“Quinn?” I ask. I try not to think about the fact that $q_he looks like $q_he’s dead. Like $q_he died while standing. I try not to get overly worried by the fact that $q_he doesn’t answer. “Quinn?” I’m so close I could poke $q_him just to see if $q_he’s still alive. Thankfully, I don’t have to. Quinn perks up and $q_his eyes focus on me. “You. I was waiting for you.” “What happened? You were unresponsive.” “Oh, that." $q_He waves dismissively. "It happens.” “It just… happens? How long has it been happening?” Quinn swats my worries away like they were an annoyingly buzzing fly ruining $q_his summer meal. “I don’t know, it just happens. Another side effect. Don’t worry about it.” “Don’t worry–” “I was waiting for you. Where were you?" [[“What were you doing?”|c6_q_whatwereyoudoing]]

$q_He’s not looking at anything. In fact, $q_he looks almost dead. I’m sure $q_he isn’t. And it’s good that $q_he’s looking at something else. I can slip away. I try to look at the sky like I’m deep in thought, hasten my step, and hope for the best. Something grabs my arm tight. A familiar grip, inquisitive. Demanding. “Where are you going, Hati?” Quinn’s voice asks. “Were you running away from me?” [["Yes."|c6_q_yup]] [["Of course not."|c6_q_ofcnot]] [[Remain silent. I’m not sure what to say.|c6_q_silent]]

I’m not sure if I should say. It feels wrong somehow, that I met with Cernunnos. Quinn isn’t devoted to the Twins but things seem to have changed since $q_he received the blessing. The Twins demand loyalty, I’m not supposed to even converse with other gods. \<<if $cernunnons_promise is true>> Much less take their deals… <</if>> [[Lie.|c6_q_lie][$quinn_liar to true]] [[Tell the truth.|c6_q_truth]]

“Oh?” A smile. “I was just joking.” I sigh. “Look, I’m just tired. And cold. I need to change my clothes.” $q_He looks at my clothes and nods. “Of course. You look drenched.” A wink. “A good look.” “Not the time.” I groan. “Of course, of course,” $q_he muses as $q_his gaze searches for something within me. "Where were you?" [[Continue|c6_q_whatwereyoudoing]]

“I could’ve sworn…,” $q_he muses with a cunning smile on $q_his lips. “Well, it’s a good thing you didn’t because I was waiting for you. I would’ve had to chase you down and tackle you if you tried to run.” $q_His smile is playful. “I was always a faster runner than you." $q_His gaze searches for something within me. "Where were you?" [[Continue|c6_q_whatwereyoudoing]]

$q_He pouts. “Hey wait, you tried to? I was just joking.” "Look, did you want something? I'm in a hurry." “Oh?” $q_He tilts $q_his head. “I wanted to know where you were." [[Continue|c6_q_whatwereyoudoing]]

“I was in the forest praying for Optio's soul.” The best lies are half-truths. “Hm? You were trudging in the snow because of that idiot?” $q_He scoffs. “That’s all?” $q_His eyes squint slightly as $q_he peers at me. \<<if $fire is true>> I hold $q_his gaze confidently. Quinn’s gaze inspects me, probes, pokes. Finally, $q_he gives me a smile. It takes me a moment to decipher the meaning behind it: it almost looks like $q_he’s proud of me. Of what? Of me lying or being good at it? It can’t be that $q_he’s proud of me for praying for the Optio. \<<elseif $earth is true>> I hold $q_his gaze with ease. There’s absolutely nothing on my face that would incriminate me. Even my thoughts are as shielded as I can manage, even though $q_he’s more than capable of prying if $q_he wanted to. Quinn’s gaze inspects me, probes, pokes. Finally, $q_he gives me a smile. It takes me a moment to decipher the meaning behind it: it almost looks like $q_he’s proud of me. Of what? Of me lying or being good at it? It can’t be that $q_he’s proud of me for praying for the Optio. \<<elseif $air is true>> I empty my mind easily enough and look through $q_him. There are no thoughts, no emotions, nothing to hide. Quinn’s gaze inspects me, probes, pokes. Finally, $q_he gives me a smile. It takes me a moment to decipher the meaning behind it: it almost looks like $q_he’s proud of me. Of what? Of me lying or being good at it? It can’t be that $q_he’s proud of me for praying for the Optio. \<<elseif $water is true>> I dart my gaze to the side and try not to let my lie show. But it shows. It announces its presence on my face so proudly that Quinn starts to snicker. “You’re so cute, I can’t even hold your lies against you.” “Cute?” $q_He pinches my cheek with a grin. “How are you still alive? You’re in the midst of enemies, unable to lie. It’s both endearing and worrying.” “How condescending of you...” “Hey, you lied to me, it's only fair that I stab back. But it’s alright. You don’t need to tell me everything that happens in your life.” <</if>>\ Then, $q_he frowns at my clothes, as if seeing them for the first time. “Why are you so wet?” [[Continue|c6_q_wetclothes]]

“I was trying to contact the Twins.” $q_His features soften, quickly, like $q_he was expecting me to say that. “Did they answer? No wait… They didn’t. It’s all over your face. I’m sorry. Maybe they tried but–” “No,” I say more sternly than I intended to. \<<if $believer is true>> “I mean,” I quickly backtrack. I don’t know if they were there. Maybe they were. “Maybe they did try,” I admit. Quinn nods. “I’m sure they did. However…” $q_He peers into my eyes. \<<elseif $doubter is true>> “They didn’t try. They weren’t there.” A shadow of disappointment crosses Quinn’s face. $q_He makes a noncommittal sound before peering into my eyes. \<<elseif $chosen_one is true>> Then, I quickly backtrack: “I’m sure they were coming. I should’ve been more patient.” “Maybe you should’ve,” Quinn agrees. “But I’m sure they will forgive you.” Then, $q_he peers into my eyes. <</if>>\ “But if it wasn’t the Twins that contacted you… Did someone else do that?” $q_His gaze is sharp, even though $q_his tone is light. “Why would you think that?” “Because.” $q_He smiles. $q_He knows. Does $q_he? I can’t tell from the sneaky smile on $q_his face. Maybe $q_he’s just messing with me. [[Try to evade the question.|c6_q_evadethequestion][$quinn_liar to true]] [["No."|c6_q_nopenogods][$quinn_liar to true]] [[“Cernunnos did.”][$quinn_cernunnos_truth to true]]

“Why do you sound like you’re interrogating me?” “What are you talking about? I’m just worried. You’re all wet and you look like you saw a ghost. Was it that prick of an Optio? Don’t tell me his ghost is hanging about in the forest now?” I look at my clothes. I can’t exactly fault $q_him for wondering. “No. I didn’t see him.” I was sure I was going to, though. “Who did you see?” “No one.” The lie leaves me and I can’t take it back even if I wanted to. I’m not sure why but I don’t think I should tell $q_him. I just need to process this alone. Perhaps Quinn wouldn’t understand. And I can only hope that $q_he won’t pry it out of my head. Disappointment is clearly visible on $q_his face despite the lingering smile. //revolting smell// "What?" "I didn’t say anything." Then, $q_he frowns at my clothes, as if seeing them for the first time. “Why are you so wet?” [[Continue|c6_q_wetclothes]]

I don’t want to tell $q_him about Cernunnos. Something tells me I shouldn’t. A part of me wants to, almost needs to, but I can’t. I just need to process this alone. Perhaps Quinn wouldn’t understand. And I can only hope that $q_he won’t pry it out of my head. $q_He smirks and mimics my answer: “Of course not. Why would anyone else reach out to you? Druid of the Twins that you are.” Right. That I am. But why do I feel that Quinn knows what happened? Is $q_he reading my thoughts? Is $q_he– //revolting smell// Before I can ask, $q_he shrugs. “Hopefully they’ll answer later. I’m sure they love you dearly.” “What about you? Have you heard from them? You’re the one with their blessing,” I can’t help but ask. “Hm.” $q_He gives me half of a smile. “My body is but a pawn to them. You, however... They love you.” \<<if $chosen_one>> I find myself nodding along. They do. I just wish they’d show it. And I feel selfish about it. \<<if $doubter>> I doubt that but I keep my thoughts to myself. \<<if $believer>> They do love me. I need to believe that. <</if>>\ Then, $q_he frowns at my clothes, as if seeing them for the first time. “Why are you so wet?” [[Continue|c6_q_wetclothes]]

$q_His eyes widen. “Cernunnos? //The// Cernunnos?” “Are there other Cernunnoses?” “No, I...” $q_He waves my light-hearted question away. “Don’t be cute. Did you actually meet the Green One?” “I did. It was unexpected.” “I’ll say.” Quinn’s voice trails off. Then, $q_his eyes sharpen. “What did they want from you?” “They wanted to greet me.” “Really? And you believed that?” $q_He all but rolls $q_his eyes. “Gods don’t just want to say hi. Did they ask something of you?” \<<if $cernunnos_promise is true>> [["They did..."|c6_q_Iaskedforhelp]] \<<else>> [["They did but I didn’t agree to it."|c6_q_didntaskforhelp]] <</if>>\

\<<set $quinn_bath_powers to true>> “You will catch a cold like this.” $q_His frown deepens. “You’re soaked. You will catch a cold like this,” $q_he repeats the words. “We need to get you warm immediately. I heard that people can die from the common cold.” “You… what?” But $q_he’s already dragging me towards the bath house. The one where Optio found out about me. I halt, frowning. “I can’t just–” “I can make them look the other way.” “What? You can do that?” “It’s a bit draining but yes, I should be able to do that.” “Why didn’t you tell me before?” “Look… It’s draining. I don’t know how much these mushy brains of mine can handle.” [["I don’t want you to strain yourself. I can just change my clothes."]] [[How strong are Quinn's powers? Concerning...]] [[How useful it is to have an ally this strong.]] [["No. I just need to change my clothes."]]

\<<if $cernunnos_promise_quinn is true>> “I asked for help. Because of you.” “Me? What do you mean?” “I don’t want you to die. So I–” “You asked Cernunnos… to help me?” $q_He repeats my words in an incredulous tone. [["I love you. I don't want you to die."][$quinn_lover to true]] [["You're my friend. I don't want you to die."][$quinn_friend to true]] \<<elseif $cernunnos_promise_optio is true>> “They wanted me to pray for them.” Quinn’s eye twitches as $q_his smile wavers. “And you just promised yourself to them?” “No, not just like that. They promised to take care of the Optio’s soul in exchange.” “You traded your devotion for that creature?” $q_He spits out the word ‘creature’. $q_His body is as tense as $q_his faltering smile. “My devotion belongs to the Twins.” I defend myself. “I can pray for both.” “Oh?” The forgery of a smile on $q_his face is frozen in place as $q_he looks at me. It almost unnerves me. “I shouldn’t have to tell you that the Twins require loyalty.” “No. You don’t have to tell me.” I already feel bad about it, I don’t need this. [["Why do you care so much?"|c6_q_whydoyoucare][$quinn_angry to true]] <</if>>\

$q_He pauses, as if to make sure $q_he heard right. “You didn’t take any of the Green One’s offers?” /<<if $doubter is true>> “Of course not. It smelled like a trap.” /<<elseif ($chosen_one is true) or ($believer is true)>> “I’m the druid of the Twins. My loyalty lies with them.” <</if>>\ Quinn opens $q_his mouth but nothing comes out. “I love you,” $q_he blurts out. “What–” Before I can react, $q_he’s already clinging onto me like a bear cub to a tree trunk. $q_He squeezes my frame almost painfully before quickly letting me go. “Sorry.” “Hey, now, what did you expect? Of course I wouldn’t be so dumb as to take a foreign god’s offer.” /<<if $dummy is true>> $q_He gives me a long look before smiling widely. “Of course. How silly of me to think that.” /<<else>> $q_He nods. “Of course, I know you’re bright.” <</if>>\ $q_He lets out another relieved sigh. “Gods can be wily. You were alone in there, they could’ve done anything… I.” A frown. Concerned. “I’m just so happy that you got out of there alive.” “I’m not sure they would’ve killed me. They seemed more curious.” “Whatever you say, I wasn’t there. I wish I was. I could’ve… I don’t know. Punched them and gave you time to flee.” “You would’ve punched the Ancient One?” “Naturally!” “You would’ve reached their abdomen, they were quite tall.” Irritation flashes through $q_his face. “Right. Stupid tall gods.” Then, $q_he frowns at my clothes, as if seeing them for the first time. “Why are you so wet?” [[Continue|c6_q_wetclothes]]

“You–” $q_He holds $q_his tongue. $q_He seems to swallow an insult before it could leave $q_his lips. “Of course. That’s logical of you.” “Logical? What are you–” “You love me and you don’t want me to die. And if someone were to come and offer you assistance with it, of course you’d take the offer,” $q_he repeats the words as if they seem alien to $q_him, despite claiming that it makes sense. “Even if it means changing your allegiances.” Confusion. Anger. Disappointment. [[Why?|c6_q_why]]

“You–” $q_He holds $q_his tongue. $q_He seems to swallow an insult before it could leave $q_his lips. “Of course. That’s logical of you.” “Logical? What are you–” “You’re my dearest friend and you don’t want me to die. And if someone were to come and offer you assistance with it, of course you’d take the offer,” $q_he repeats the words as if they seem alien to $q_him, despite claiming that it makes sense. “Even if it means changing your allegiances.” Confusion. Anger. Disappointment. [[Why?|c6_q_why]]

“Hm. Of course I don’t care. Do whatever you like. I heard that Jupiter is looking for more followers, too.” “Quinn! That’s uncalled for.” $q_He raises $q_his hands in mock surrender. “I do apologize.” The apology rings hollow, anyone with ears could hear that. “I really need to go now. Do have a pleasant day, my friend.” “Why are you so angry?” “I’m not angry. I’m in an awful hurry, places to be, things to do. I have a life, too, you know. A life without you.” $q_He emphasizes the last words while looking me in the eyes. “We’ll talk later.” And, $q_he leaves. I’m left standing confused, angry, and insulted. Why would $q_he twist the knife in my wound? I already feel bad about what happened. Fine. If that's how $q_he wants it to be. I just want to get these wet clothes off my back. Right now, I’m cold, I’m tired, I’m slightly irritated, and I just want a bath. No baths for me. Not after what happened with the Optio. I just need to change. [[Continue|Bath?]]

Why does $q_he look at me like I betrayed $q_him? “What did they ask in return?” Quinn asks. “They wanted me to pray for them.” “Of course they did.” The smile on $q_his face is bordering on manic. “And you promised your devotion. You did it to help me,” $q_he repeats the words. [[Get angry.|c6_q_getangry][$quinn_angry to true]] [[I'm confused. Something is wrong.|c6_q_confused]] [[I'm hurt.|c6_q_hurt]]

“Yes, I did!” I shout, and a few soldiers passing by peer at us with mild interest. I lower my voice to a hiss: “I’m not going to wait till the Twins deem it appropriate to answer when you’re dying.” “You should just leave it be.” “Why? Do you want to die? Is that it?” “You should just accept what the Twins have in store for you and I. Isn’t that your duty?” $q_His words are cold and chastising. Yes, I suppose it is my duty to blindly accept what the gods are willing to give me. But why would $q_he out of all people remind me of that? $q_He almost sounds like my mother. No. Not almost. $q_He does. “Are you my mother?” I ask. “Your… hm.” $q_He smiles weakly and shakes $q_his head. “I’m sorry. I don’t want to sound like her. I shouldn’t have snapped at you.” It almost feels too little too late but $q_he continues: [["It wasn't your fault."]]

“Why are you like this? You used to–” “What? I used to be more accommodating to your disloyalty towards the Twins? With you throwing your devotion to any god that would ask for it?” “Quinn… You’re unfair.” $q_He sighs and $q_his demeanor softens. “I’m… I’m sorry.” It almost sounds like $q_he is. But it’s difficult to believe it after what was said. "I realize I sound like your mother. It's not a good look. I shouldn’t have snapped at you.” $q_He continues: [["It wasn't your fault."]]

It feels like I’m being chastised by my mother. I wanted to help yet it somehow made $q_him angrier. I shrink to myself, just like when mother berated me when I was little. Quinn gives me an angry look. But this time the anger is aimed at $q_himself. “I’m sorry, I shouldn't snap at you like this.” $q_He starts to put $q_his hand on my shoulder but I instinctively flee $q_his touch. $q_He flinches, looks $q_his rejected hand, confused. Then, $q_he shakes $q_his head. “I sounded like your mother. I’m sorry.” $q_He continues: [["It wasn't your fault."]]

“Cernunnos is the one who led you astray. They're the one who used your grief, anger, loneliness, whatever feelings you have, against you.” “I took the deal willingly.” “Did you? You were facing a god all by yourself.” Quinn grimaces. “I should’ve been there with you. I failed you.” “What?” The shift in the conversation makes me frown. “I failed you. I should always be there for you.” “I didn’t ask you to come with me.” “You didn’t.” //another fail on $q_his part// Any trace of previous anger is gone and $q_he looks almost… defeated. [[I don't care. I'm too angry at Quinn right now. I need to leave.][$quinn_angry to true]] [["I'm tired. I want to be alone."]] [["I should've asked you to come with me. I'm sorry."]]

$q_His demeanor is erratic and frankly I’m too tired to deal with this right now. “You are. Tired. I’m sorry.” “It’s fine, I–” "Your clothes are wet," $q_he says. "Well, yes. They are." [[Continue|c6_q_wetclothes]]

The apology leaves me without a thought. Perhaps Cernunnos wouldn’t have approached me if $q_he was with me. Perhaps the Twins would’ve answered sooner. However, there shouldn’t be anything to apologize for. Perhaps it’s the regret I feel for conversing with another god that made me apologize. Perhaps it’s the look on Quinn’s face, despite $q_his earlier chastising. Perhaps I deserved it. Quinn shakes $q_his head. “No. No need to apologize.” $q_He gives me a smile, filled with warmth this time. “You can just refuse to obey. Don’t pray to them.” I… I guess I could do that. "I will think about it." The smile on $q_his face falters, just slightly. “Alright. That’s good enough for me.” Suddenly, $q_he frowns. “Your clothes are soaked.” [[Continue|c6_q_wetclothes]]

“I don’t want to hear your apologies,” I say. I didn’t expect to bear with Quinn’s anger on top of all this. I helped $q_him and this is what I got for that. Quinn nods, $q_his mind clearly already elsewhere. “Sure. I need to think, too.” Annoyance flashes through me. //$q_He// needs to think? After all $q_he said to me? With a puff of anger I start walking away from $q_him. I’m cold, I’m tired, I’m angry, and I just want a bath. No baths for me, at least not before I'll get to the private baths. Not after what happened with the Optio. I just need a change of clothes. [[Continue|Bath?]]

\<<if $quinn_lover is true>> “You’re so considerate,” $q_he muses under $q_his breath. “That’s why I love you.” Before I can answer, $q_he continues: “I will now make sure that you’ll get a change of clothing.” “You what?” Quinn drags me towards the barracks, fully intending to make sure I change. “Quinn. No need. I can clothe myself.” $q_He laughs. “Of course you can! But I still want to watch.” “Quinn. It’s been a long day.” "Fine!" $q_He grins and gives me a quick kiss on my cheek. "I'll go now. But do change. I don't want you to catch anything." "Fine. Just go." I let out a little laugh and $q_he smiles at the sound of it. \<<else>> “Hm. Fine. You’re a good friend. Perhaps it is for the better that I don’t try the limits. I might…” $q_He grins. “Die.” “Are you actually joking about it now?” I want to ask if $q_he’s completely lost it by now but I really just want to go and change. "You should try to joke about it, too. Lighten the mood." "I'll try. Next time. When I'm not shivering." Quinn shoos me away with a grin. <</if>>\ I sigh as I watch $q_him go. Then, a violent shiver runs through me. I really need to change my clothes. [[Continue|Bath?]]

I shoot $q_him a look of concern. $q_He doesn’t see it, but $q_he still stops walking. “What’s wrong?” “Just thinking.” “You can think while soaking in the warm bath.” $q_His hand squeezes mine and I look at our intertwined fingers. They laced together without a thought, as naturally as when we were young. I frown at the sight. Frown at my thoughts. $q_He’s my ally. My… friend. I shouldn’t worry about $q_his powers. $q_He will use them to protect me. [[Off to the baths.]]

I can’t help but give $q_him a proud smile. To think that it’s us against the Romans is exhilarating. With my connections and $q_his superhuman abilities, no one can stop us. Quinn gives me a warm smile. “You’re looking positively wicked.” “Why, thank you so much.” “It’s a good look.” /<<if $quinn_lover is true>>Quinn gives me a quick peck on my lips. $q_He smiles, proudly, and warmth spreads through me despite the freezing wind. <</if>>\ Together, we will be unstoppable. [[Off to the baths.]]

Quinn spoke the truth. $q_He made the others look away. No one came to gawk at me. Despite that, I didn’t dare to take off my tunic, the old habits die hard. Quinn sat right next to me with $q_his tunic still on. $q_He couldn’t speak during $q_his concentration and I didn’t want to test $q_his limits, so the visit to the baths was quick but my limbs are warm again. In the end, blood began running from $q_his nose. [[Continue|Bath?]]

“Hm. Fine. Perhaps it is for the better that I don’t try the limits. I might…” $q_He grins. “Die.” “Are you actually joking about it now?” I want to ask if $q_he’s completely lost it by now but I really just want to go and change. "You should try to joke about it, too. Lighten the mood." “Not in the mood.” $q_He purses $q_his lips as $q_he looks at me. “I hope I didn’t make you mad at me?” I wave dismissively. “I just need to change now.” “Right. Wouldn’t want you to catch anything nasty. I need you.” I give $q_him a nonchalant nod before leaving. Then, a violent shiver runs through me. I really need to change my clothes. [[Continue|Bath?]]

What is your gender? [[Man.|height][$gender to "cisman"]] [[Nonbinary.|height][$gender to "nonbinary"]] [[Woman.|height][$gender to "transwoman"]]

What is your gender? [[Woman.|height][$gender to "ciswoman"]] [[Nonbinary.|height][$gender to "nonbinary"]] [[Man.|height][$gender to "transman"]]

And now for the small things: Do you have a scar? Do you know about fashion? \<<if $sex is "male">> Do you have a beard? [[I have a beard.|miscthings][$beard to true]] <</if>> [[I have a scar.|miscthings][$scar to true]] [[Fashion is my hobby.|miscthings][$hobby_fashion to true]] [[So, to recap...]]

\<<if (($hobby_fashion is true) and ($beard is true) and ($scar is true))>> You have a beard, you're knowledgeable about fashion and style, and you have a scar. \<<elseif (($hobby_fashion is true) and ($beard is true))>> You have a beard and you're knowledgeable about fashion and style. \<<elseif (($scar is true) and ($beard is true))>> You have a beard and a scar. \<<elseif (($hobby_fashion is true) and ($scar is true))>> You're knowledgeable about fashion and style and you have a scar. \<<elseif $hobby_fashion is true>> You're knowledgeable about fashion and style. \<<elseif $beard is true>> You have a beard. \<<elseif $scar is true>> A bear mauled you when you were younger. \<<else>> None of the above things are true about you. <</if>> [[Continue|determination?]]

<<set $chapter to "Chapter 6">> Are you determined to get your revenge or are you a little confused as to why you're in Rome? [[Determined.|Chapter 6][$determined to true]] [[A little confused.|Chapter 6][$manipulated to true]]

defiled hearts: the barbarian

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by <a href="https://www.tumblr.com/blog/defiledheartsblog">Haley Mattos</a>